Inca Trail to Machu Picchu – Day Two

There’s no illusion a tent wall provides any kind of a barrier to sound, so anyone bothered by snoring might want to pack earplugs on the Inca Trail. About 4 am, our tents now illuminated by a very bright moon, I could hear our neighbors become progressively more restless. On one side, neither person had slept … with growing discomfort, they were anxious to start the day. On the other side, I overheard a plea for Imodium. As today’s itinerary was advertised “the most challenging day of the trail” and would include climbing its two highest passes, “character building” was a certainty.

We planned to start early, to ascend through Dead Woman Pass “Abra Warmiwanuska” at 13,780 feet while the terrain protected us from the sun. As it turns out, clouds did a pretty good job of this on their own.

The porter tent began stirring early, readying breakfast and other comforts. Snug in my sleeping bag, I heard rustling outside as one of these gentlemen came to each tent door and asked “coca tea?” Tent side tea service, served in a warm tin … it invigorated my spirit to face the morning chill.

Breakfast started with an impossible beverage made from toasted fava beans that tasted very much like cocoa. Thinking it might be a bit high in fiber for the bathroom situation over the next several hours, I just had one glass. There were also sunshiny pancakes with caramel happy faces and rays of sliced strawberries. Who can resist a smile? We certainly weren’t going to starve.

Here comes the sun!

Here comes the sun!

We started our ascent, each at our own pace, sometimes making mini-switchbacks within the trail by weaving from side to side to avoid huge steps. Periodic rests let us look back on our progress, and watch as the sunlight crawled down into the valleys. Sadly, without setting up a tripod and taking several bracketed shots, I’d never come close to capturing this playground of light. My fellow hikers were in the shade, with sun bathing the hills above them, and mountains in layered silhouette progressively fading into the horizon. This delightfully vexed me and the camera.

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Shortly into the climb, we passed through an ecological zone with strangely twisted trees, to the gurgling accompaniment of a gentle stream that paralleled the trail. It felt like the “realm of faerie” but without the ominous undertones … at least not now, in the light of morning.

faerie

Near the boundary of this spriteful little microclimate was a small camp called Llulluchapampa. I’m suddenly wondering if Peruvians get as tongue-tied saying Mississippi as I get trying to sound out Llulluchapampa. This was our designated snack stop, a great place to rest and let everyone get caught up. A herd of llamas dotted the hillside, with two that might have been disputing dominance patrolling the area near the restroom. Or maybe they were courting, I’m not sure. One laid its ears back and let out a loud hiss, and the other ran off up the hillside.

Llama drama

Llama drama

Possibly inspired by knowing “Alive” occurred in the Andes, or maybe by the fava beans at breakfast, we somehow got into a philosophical discussion about survival and cannibalism. I’m pretty sure none of us had any new thoughts on the topic, but it was interesting. While one charitable soul from our group is trying to donate a kidney to help a young man’s quality of life, this is a distant cry from the Hannibal Lecter “Chopped” basket. (Maybe the Food Network and The Walking Dead can play around with this idea for Halloween … Alton?!) Anyway, recharged, we donned our packs and resumed the slow grind up to Dead Woman Pass.

So, you really only see one part of the “reclined dead woman” the entire time you’re climbing this pass. At first you see the obvious, then maybe the underwire (which I’m pretty sure is not part of the original vision), then the specks as people pass just below it (not as animal crackers in a Liv Tyler movie). Somebody somewhere (probably in the AF) will get in trouble with the “thought police” for how they imagine this.

dead-woman-pass

The way up is A LOT of stairs, finally passing into the fog we previously observed as a cloud. Its every-changing swirls nicely veiled the mountainside, good scenery as we caught our breath.

clouds

The pass was another great waiting point, though a bit chilly. This was where I was most glad to have layers in my backpack!! When I heard Jodi cheering me on, I knew I was past the “false summit”.

Not that we don’t condense time in these blog things, but as we “wait at the top” is probably a good time to introduce everyone. I’ve known Robin for what seems like years, but it’s really a short packed timeline with a lot of adventures and road trips, to the point we joke about traveling more together than with a spouse or an ex. If the Amazing Race continues indefinitely, maybe we’ll find ourselves on it … it at least can’t end in divorce. I’m the history buff, Robin is the adventure freak, so when she said she wanted to do the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, it was fate. She works with Fred, and this has always been on his bucket list. We posted the trip on meetup, and Alli joined us. Barry, Patti, and Carolyn also signed up, but as one-day hikers exploring other stuff while we did the trail. Rob and Jodi randomly latched on through a google search that aligned them with our travel agent and trip, and the butterfly effect delivered again. In fact, none of this might have reached critical mass if Robin hadn’t installed Verizon for a good friend of mine, talked up a Via Ferrata, and pulled us both into meetup through her enthusiasm. As much as I celebrate my life as an introvert, I recognize some of my best friendships are through these random connections facilitated by extroverts and chance. As Robin says, it takes all types to make the world go around.

Back to Dead Woman Pass. The sun came out for a brief appearance and gave us some beautiful photo ops, then just as rapidly succumbed to fog.

fog

Fred may not have been having the best of days, but he was a champ. You may be guessing right now where the 4 am
plea for Imodium originated, and you would be correct. I was going to keep it anonymous, but this day wasn’t easy for any of us, so I’m giving Fred some props. Fred arrived at the top to a chorus of “suck it in, buttercup” as we all turned paparazzi. It uplifted all our spirits to see he was still smiling!

fred

Just before the downhill, I cranked down my hiking boot laces … only to have one of them break. I took some time to re-thread, and pushed on, shortly catching up to Fred as he ran off into some tall grass. I think this was about this time it dawned on us: coca leaves = laxative.

It didn’t take long to descend below the clouds and take in a completely different microclimate. A little downhill on this side of the pass, it felt warm and humid. I caught up to Alli and Robin as they stripped layers. We spent the rest of the trek to the lunch site with frequent stops for butterflies and flowers.

biodiversity

Pacaymayo was a beautiful site (they all are) in “the gap” between the pass we just traversed and the one we would tackle after lunch. As we neared it, this fantastical waterfall massaged our spirits with its chaotic rhythmic pounding. This was our musical backdrop during lunch. It was very soothing.

waterfall

Bellies full, we started our next ascent, objective Runkuraqay Pass, 12,959 ft. So, it’s not quite as high, but it’s nothing to scoff at either. It’s like purchasing something for $12.99 … you mentally should just round to $13. It costs you about the same as Dead Woman Pass. Hearing thunder in the distance, we wondered if we should worry. But we kept pushing onward and upward, to our next stop, some ruins along the way, also named Runkuraqay/Runkurakay.

views1

There’s some conjecture what purpose Runkuraqay served … was it a fortress, or a watchtower overlooking the valley? The current thought is it was a resting spot, or “tambo”. It certainly was a good spot for one.

Ahhh, Inti ....

Ahhh, Inti ….

We continued up the hill, again, each at our own pace. This area was open and exposed, and offered gorgeous expansive views. And by this time, the thunder had moved on.

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I was playing tag with one of the porters from a different group. I’d catch up to him when he took a break, would pass him, then would hear music, increasingly louder as he passed me. He was carrying a large radio that may have been manufactured before I was born. I kept trying to get a picture, but it was always too obvious. I initially thought how much an iPod might make his life easier, but then I realize how much I take for granted. In any case, there were several porters carrying old radios, but it seemed a lot more practical when they were traveling as a group.

We made it to the second pass and started our descent. These stairs seemed steeper and narrower, or maybe we were just tired. There was very little cover, so you could see the trail stretching on for a great distance.

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It was about this time I started to need a bathroom break, so I pushed ahead to find something more sheltered. It kept looking extremely exposed. Then there was a cliff face on one side and a steep drop on the other, no real options. I kept moving. Finally I came to a stretch where the ground was just a few feet below the trail, with some tall grass as cover. There was some scrub shielding the view from up the trail. It was now or who knew when, so I climbed off the trail and a few feet down the hill to some modest cover. No sooner had I squatted than I heard music, rapidly approaching … this time a large group of porters…

Not too much further down the hill the sun highlighted what looked like a fortress on a large outcropping. Up treacherous stairs were the ruins of Sayaqmarka.

sayakmarka

Like most of these sites, nobody can be truly certain of its purpose. There’s some speculation this housed aclla cuna (chosen women), girls picked at a young age for their beauty and talent, and groomed as future sacrifices, or wives for nobles. An “inaccessible city” for keeping them chaste … ???

Just beyond this was Qonchamarka, which may have been another rest stop. It had a kind of ethereal otherworldly feel about it, like something out of Avatar.

avatar

From here it was a short hike to our campsite, Chaquicocha/Chaquiqocha, at 12,000 ft. A former lake bed, it was now dry, with the exception of the creek running through it. But its insects were everything you’d expect of a wetland.

camp1

We had been warned about the tiny “biting vampires” … I think their name translates to “Jaguar’s Bane” or “Jaguar’s Curse” or something like that. I threw on my camp clothes and jacket, put my hood up, minimized my exposed skin and coated myself in OFF. They were unrelenting, and nobody had repellant strong enough. But the sun was setting and it promised to be spectacular, so I braved the insects instead of retreating to my tent.

sunset

Robin was also outside, but her calling was coffee. She had her Jetboil going (you may accurately guess she’s not a minimalist camper). Hers finished, she was making one for Fred (you may also guess, Robin is extremely loving and generous). Exhausted, Fred had answered “yes” to a coffee, before immediately crawling into his tent and sleeping bag. The coffee now ready, Robin beckoned him outside. Too dead tired for situational awareness, Fred said “that’s all right” and planned to stay rooted to his comfy spot. He promptly reconsidered.

One of the lessons learned the previous night was it’s best to get in and out of the camp toilets as early as possible. These were squat-a-potties, and some people must need a foolproof guidance system, or to move closer to the target. After several miles of stair-stepping, squatting isn’t easy. I heard at one point the trail owners put in toilets with seats, but people took in reading material in spite of the line. So they went back to squatters. Minimal lines, but the collateral damage progresses through the night. It made me a little less thrilled with fresh fruit and vegetables.

Thankfully the biting bugs go away shortly after dark. I took refuge in a column of smoke until then.

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While we ate another grand meal, we heard a lot of commotion from a neighboring campsite. Apparently someone from their group had reached the point he/she could go no further. This does not leave a lot of options. From what I understand, porters went back for this person and carried him/her the rest of the way to the camp. Thinking about the terrain we just covered, this can’t have been easy, especially in the dark.

Feeling very accomplished, tired, and full, we retreated to our tents. I had planned to take pictures in the light of the full moon, but clouds rolling in excused me to prioritize sleep.

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