Day 1
There was a nervous energy that continued to multiply as
each person began exiting his/her room and gather in the courtyard of our
hostel. We all knew the challenges that awaited: 4 days of trekking, 46
kilometers, 3 nights in the wilderness. Some were jovial, hiding their nerves;
while others’ panic-stricken eyes told the entire story. The epic challenge was
no longer some future difficulty—it was about to begin. Although our leader
awarded us chocolate, nothing could really soften the truth that was the Inca
Trail.
The first day, especially the first half, was mostly flat
and fairly easy. The views consisted of shrubs on either side, followed by mountains
to the left, and a stream, the tourist train and more mountains on your right.
The scenery was very pretty; however, you could not fully enjoy it because the challenges
that you knew awaited in the coming days. I hovered at the back of our group;
partly to conserve energy, but mostly to absorb the surroundings and relish in
the opportunity to soak up such a unique experience.
After lunch, the lead guide provided a final destination and
campsite number and allowed the “fast” group to carry on undisturbed. This freedom
allowed the front group to go at their own pace without being forced to wait for
the back group, and the back group to not struggle trying to keep up with the
front group. After about 55 minutes, I arrived alone, and shortly before the
porters, at the campsite. Finally, for the first time all day, I could stop,
rest and try to relax into the amazing scenery surrounding us.
Day 2
A rooster decided to strut behind each individual tent,
singing his morning song, at 4:00 am the morning of the second day—definitely
not the most ideal way to wake up before the hardest day of the trek.
Day 2 consists of a 1200-meter vertical climb to 4200
meters, followed by a 600 meter decent on the ancient Inca steps. Estimated
time to complete: 8 hours. Our tour leader did not try to keep the group
together for Day 2. Rather, after reaching the initial passport checkpoint, he
said “fast group, go ahead, be careful, drink lots of water, it’s Campsite 9.”
As I climbed, I started playing leapfrog with the porters. I
would follow and overtake when they set down their twenty kilogram packs for
some rest, then allow them to overtake me as I stopped to drink some water or go
the bathroom (water has a major impact on preventing altitude sickness). At
3600 meters, the altitude started affecting my body. With the help of Coca leaves,
water and a little Gatorade however, I slowly and methodically marched up to
the highest point—4200 meters.
While breathing the thin air at the top and looking back
over the valley, the other trekkers looked like little ants, slowly struggling
up the mountain. The view was incredible and knowing that you had reached the highest
point was fulfilling. Something about reaching the top always seems to provide strength
and courage to continue the trek. I began running downhill. Step after step
after step, rock after rock after rock. My knees really started bothering me on
Day 2; however, once you are in that valley, your two choices are: (1) 4200
meters up back the way you came (2) 4000 meters up to the next pass. Turning
around at the campsite provided a view of part of the trail you had descended
along with several waterfalls cascading over the mountains that were hovering
above you like giant clouds.
The calm comfort after finishing a hike and arriving at a
virtually empty campsite is a unique sensation that few trekkers get to
experience. You can relax in the peace and quiet while you know so many others
are still struggling with the trail. Day 2 of The Inca Trail was complete.
Day 3
We were told Day 3 required us to stay together due to
various ruins along the route. Unfortunately, the rain started early in the
morning and by the time we finished breakfast everything was soaked. Couple the
rain with the altitude, the cold, and the fatigue from two solid days of
trekking and two nights of camping, and you know a long day awaits.
The initial leg (trip to the first ruin) was difficult. Not
due to gradient or effort; rather, the major difference in pace between the
climbers. By traveling at my normal pace, I arrived at the top well before the
back portion of the group. The top, where you are stuck waiting, freezing cold
and wet. The rain stalled at about 3800 meters (around Checkpoint 1), then we marched
to 4000 meters. As we descended back down to 3800 meters, the fog, mist and the
rain moved back in. By the time we reached lunch, the rain had fully returned
and did not stop for the rest of the day. Your hands are numb, feet are wet and
frozen, and you know that your toes already look as though they have aged half
a century. You are willing to accept these hardships if you are blessed enough
to see clear views of Machu Picchu on the fourth day.
Lunch ended in a screaming feud of anger and frustration
partly due to built up tension, but also partly due to the straining challenge
we were exposing ourselves to. The good news is that after lunch we were
heading down. The bad news is that after lunch we were heading down. While descending
is easier on the muscles and heart, it is far more painful on the knees and
ankles. Each step caused a dull, but loud pain, to echo from my knees. I knew
that I had no choice though, I was going to finish. As the third day ended, the
clouds started to blow away and the rain began to stop. I could hear the as the
3rd campsite neared.
My knees were destroyed by the time I could hear the tourist
train (the train that bypasses the trek) and see the campsite. That evening
after dinner, I massaged my knees, took some ibuprofen and prepared for the
3:30 AM wake up call. Only six more kilometers to Machu Picchu.
Day 4
I awoke at 3:00 am to the sound of porters outside the tent.
Everyone was anxious; the porters needed to catch a train and the trekkers were
nearing the end. We had been battling the natural elements and physical and
mental stamina for three days. We left the campsite at 4:00 am to get in line
before the gates opened at 5:00. Even though we arrived an hour before opening,
we were still the fourth or fifth group in line. When traveling through this
region, the weather can change from warm and sunny to rainy, foggy and cold in
a matter of minutes, and I did not want my pace to dictate my view of the
famous city. Therefore, as soon as we were cleared at the checkpoint, I bolted.
Eventually I stopped and looked around into the mist,
wondering if I had reached the famous city or not. Then without warning, the
fog lifted slightly and a brief wave of slight visibility revealed the outline
of the city before it disappeared again in the mist. I made it! Machu Picchu
was, while camouflaged, right below me!
I walked down the final steps, walked into the gate and
began exploring the city. The shear scale was unexpected and marvelous
especially because you could not see the entire city from above due to the
weather. After a little exploring, I returned to the lookout perch to wait the
others in our group. With each passing minute, the city seemed to toy with me
like a laser pointer with a cat. Sometimes you could see 100 feet in front of
your face, then 10 feet, then 100, then 10. We were told the weather would
continue to play this cruel game for at least a few more hours. However, the
day before, the city was revealed for less than one hour all day. As the group
filed in, rain started to fall. Oh no! The same kind of rain we experienced the
day before had returned—rain that never truly cleared and only came back with
more ferocity in the afternoon.
We waited several hours and as quickly as it had started,
the rain stopped and the view actually started to clear. The sun was up and for
the first time the entire view cleared from Machu Picchu all the way to the Huayna
Picchu mountain behind it—one solid image, crystal clear and unbroken.
We all go through difficult times in life. Some are self-inflicted;
others are not. In this situation, our entire group knew what we undertaking.
We knew it was going to be four days, 46 kilometers, altitude, difficult. We
knew, but we also challenged ourselves to struggle and overcome through the
pain. Standing on the perch near the top looking down on a clear city with the
spectacular mountains in the background, you could finally take a full,
complete breath. For the first time in four days, several pain pills, coca
leaves, a lot of sweat, and some damaged knees, I could breathe because the
challenge was finished and the reward was great!
I have been fortunate to see many special scenes across the
world. The clear view of Machu Picchu is one of the most incredible sights I
have ever seen. By coupling the power of the image with the struggle and
hardship of the journey, I could not help but smile, laugh a little and almost
shed a tear when I stood on that lookout perch. I had made it!
No comments:
Post a Comment