Salkantay to Machu Picchu II

Well I have returned to Cuzco and have eaten some good food, had some good rest and relaxed all of today.

This whole trek began last Monday, when I was sorely dissappointed to find out that there was NO POSSIBLE WAY to go on the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. The Inca Trail is the original trail used by the Incan people to reach Macchu Picchu, their most holy city, back during the height of the Incan Empire in the 1500´s. I really wanted to go on this because of the historical significance and because I didn´t want to do the cheesy tourist thing and take the bus and train there, I wanted to earn my way to this ancient site.

So while we were at an internet cafe I saw this ad for a 5 day 4 night trek over a pass by Salkantay peak, one of the glacieral peaks of the Andes, and then continue overland to Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of Machu Picchu. I checked two travel agencies in town and then decided to book on a whim instead of staying in Cuzco by myself while Jordan and Sophie trekked on the Inca Trail. I was due to be picked up at 4:30 am the next morning and so Jordan, Sophie and I made our way to Margarita´s house, a friend of a friend of Sophie´s, where we would stay. After sitting with Margarita for awhile and aquainting ourselves, we all went to bed, I repacked my things for the trek, leaving the unecessary and cumbersome things behind, and set an alarm for my 4 am wake up. Nervous and fearful that I wouldn´t wake up and would miss my pickup I slept lightly, waking up to every taxi horn and dog bark until about 3:45, when I decided to just get up. The taxi didn´t arrive until 4:55 when I was then whisked off under the pre-morning darkness to an ominous bus waiting at a street corner. I got on and found my seat next to a French-Canadian from Quebec, who turned out to be one of my trekking partners.
Three hours later we arrived at the mountain village of Mollapata at 3600 meters altitude (10,800ft), from where our journey would begin. We took only small packs or waterbottles and the porters loaded our large packs onto the mules and horses. We began hiking up the mountainside via a dirt road, following our guide Renaldo. After 3 hours of good breath-stealing hiking we arrived at the lunch site where our cook and horses had gone ahead. Upon finishing our lunch of soup and spaghetti we started out again up the road that slowly revealed the sister glacieral peak of Salkantay, our goal. With something to guide us on Anna, a sweet girl from Holland, and I set our pace and trooped ahead up the road, finally arriving 3 hours later at our campsite near the base of the peak in a mountain valley. On our way there was an avalanche on the glacier, an amazing sight to observe with a clear view, free of the danger, and awed by the thunderous beauty.
That first night was COLD, it got down to 0 degrees Celsius/ about 28 degrees Farenheit. The wind whipped through our campsite and our clothes, chilling us to the bone. Wednesday morning dawned with overcast skies and a sharp chill. We all huddled together around the breakfast table, clasping our cups of steaming drink, awaiting our send off, into the cold and up to the pass. Renaldo, our guide, predicted a 10 hour day and we all groaned at the idea of walking 10 hours in the cold. We all put on our brave faces and set out into the wind, gloved, scarfed and hatted, as small snowflakes pattered infrequently from the sky. Taking frequent rest stops and eating power bars and chocolate our group of 8 pressed on, some falling behind due to altitude sickness, some pushing ahead with a steel will.
After 4 1/2 hours of intense hiking under cold and overcast skies we all finally reached the pass, where the wind was whipping the clouds up the valley between peaks at a frenzied pace, and chilling us to the bone. After a short congratulations to all as we regrouped at the top, we took our victory pictures and began the welcome trek down from the 4,800 meter/ 13,800 ft pass. We trudged exausted through a rocky river bed, strewn with boulders and pebbles that threatened to bring us down at every step. The river bed finally dispersed and we reached a small green mountain meadow on a cliff that overlooked the valley below and our much anticipated lunch site. Hopeful with our guide´s perscription of 1 1/2 hours walk to lunch, Anna and I raced on, but grew complacent after we had already walked 1 hour and 40 minutes with no lunch in sight.

Finally we reached the lunch, ate in weariness and reluctantly asked how far it would be to the campsite. We received the dreaded response of 3 hours more. Brave faces were installed once again, and we set off, only to be surprised by the welcome change of jungle scenary as the drab mountain landscape faded away to be relpaced by lush greenery, bright flowers and warmer weather. Three hours later we arrived at the promised campsite, where we all collapsed in sheer delight and glee at our accomplishment.

We all slept well and awoke to hike just a short 45 minutes to a natural hot spring at the edge of a river, where we all passed soap and shampoo, glad to be warm and clean after two days of cold, sweaty, dusty hiking. It was short lived however, after 1 1/2 hours in a hot spring, there were few who wanted to embrace the 5 hour hike that lay ahead of us in order to reach the next campsite, and lunch.

As we drug ourselves down the trail we were greeted by a boggy trail where natural springs had flooded the dirt, and continual streams as they crossed the trail and headed to the river 200 meters/600 ft below. The thin jungle path finally gave way to a bulldozed landslide and to a frequently used road into La Playa, the town where we would stay for the night. It was a less than wonderful site that greeted us however, as we were to be camping the the front yard of Renaldo´s friend, rather than proceeding on to the next town of Santa Teresa, 45 minutes down the road, with hot springs as well. The dissappointment was met with brave optimism, but was only to get worse as loud radios, dog fights and roosters in surround sound kept us all from the good sleep we all so desperately needed.

The whole lot of us awoke grumpy and with sour dispositions as we sat over our pancakes and hot drinks. We then loaded in to the bus bound for Santa Teresa, where we would take the cable car over the river. The "cable car" turned out to be a poor rendition of something that might appear on Fear Factor, a shabby tray measuring 3 feet by 4 feet connected to a cable that flew like a zip line to the other side of the river and was then pulled back manually by a rope attached to the tray. As the only means of transport over the river, people, parcels, bamboo, wood and all sort of other things were transported on this tray. We loaded people and parcel together, with people atop parcels, sometimes one or two persons, sometimes five, with two wooden crosses of those who had gone before us mocking our brave shows from the bank of the river below. All made it across without incident and we then boarded a fenced flatbed truck with about 45 others to take us to the railroad track´s end where we would hike the tracks to Aguas Calientes, the town that lies at the base of Machu Picchu.

To be continued....