Off the Beaten Path

One day, about 8 years ago, my husband Al and I found ourselves a standing on a rickety platform, high in the rainforest in Costa Rica.  I was hooked up to a zip line, but terrified to take that giant leap of faith to fly over a deep gorge.  Ever so sweetly, I snarled at Al, “Who’s stupid idea was this anyway? Let’s turn back.” Calmly, as always, Al replied “Yours.  No turning back.”    Actually, this is a  pattern, I come up with the crazy ideas for our travel itineraries, but it is Al that gives me that “gentle” nudge off the platform into the scary unknown once we are there. 

On no trip was this pattern more apparent than on our trip to Peru in July of 2017.  Before I tell you this story, there are three things you need to know.

•  In July 2017, I was 59 years old and Al was 60.
• I am neither sedentary nor athletic, but especially not athletic. 
• The Andes are really big mountains. REALLY. BIG. MOUNTAINS.

We were in Peru for two weeks—a few days in in Lima enjoying the history, culture and amazing cuisine, a few days in the Amazon basin, but the highlights of the trip were hiking in the Andes and seeing Machu Picchu.  We booked our trip through an Australian agency called Intrepid Travel that provided the following description (and I quote) “The trip is recommended for those with a moderate level of fitness but there are also a few different trail options to suit your interests and physical capabilities.”

 Dear Intrepid Travel,  “Moderate Level of Fitness” may need further definition.  Just sayin'

The general outline of the hike went like this.  From Lima, we flew on a small jet to Cusco, the ancient Incan capital. Cusco is situated high in the Andes and approaching the runway between the imposing peaks is not for the faint of heart.  At an elevation of 11,000 feet, this beautiful city is a common location for all sorts of intrepid hikers to adjust to the altitude.

It was in Cusco that we learned that many people don’t acclimate well to such high elevations and that most people bring a prescription medication that prevents altitude sickness.   Who knew?  Apparently, everyone but us. Maybe we should have done some research.  But by then it was too late.  There were easily available herbal alternatives to prescription medication- coca candy, coca tea- both dispensed liberally by hotels and tour guides.  I am not entirely sure if they are legal in the U.S., but when in Cusco…

It was also in Cusco that we discovered that it would be cold at night in the Andes.  Even without research, we really SHOULD have realized that.  But that oversight was easy to fix and we bought hats and gloves in a little local market.

The hike began in the town of Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley.  This is about 2000 feet lower than Cusco—a mere 9000 feet above sea level.  We were part of a small group- 6 hikers, 2 guides, 2 cooks, a couple of horsemen and a few horses that carried our tents, sleeping bags, food, cooking supplies, port-a-potty tent and so on.  The night before we set out, we had a team meeting where our guide told us the first of many …um… alternative facts. 

Number 1.  Day one is a warm up.  Easy Peasy

Number 2:  The trail is “rolly-rolly Inca Flat”  Just FYI:   Flat is not a word that applies in the Andes.

He also told us one thing that was true.  You need trekking poles.  All six of us were totally skeptical.  Why?  Too much to carry.  They will interfere with photographing the wonderful sights.  But he was insistent.  Ok.  We decided to humor him.  This turned out to be a very good decision.  They helped somewhat on the climb, but were indispensable on the descent.

The next morning we set out, full of optimism and confidence.  Of the six hikers, five of us were sixty-ish.  The remaining one, the speed demon known as Ingrid, was a super-fit 29 year-old physician.  But fortunately, a very kind and patient super-fit 29 year-old physician.

      

First hour. Hmmm… this is steep, but no worries. Paulo said this is the easy warm up day. It will get easier soon.

Second hour: Well, ok, it is still steep, huff… puff… but this is the easy day.

Third hour: More huffing and puffing. Lots more. Easy Peasy? Jeez Louise...what will tomorrow be like?

 Fourth hour: Gasping… “Al, who’s stupid idea was this?” (mine. I admit it)

And so the morning continued.  Step.. huff.  Step… puff.  You get the idea.  Like I said--the Andes are big. REALLY. BIG. This hike was immensely challenging-- both physically and psychologically.  Huffing and puffing.  Fighting the doubts.  Trying to ignore the screaming voices of my twin internal critics, Agnes and Agatha, as they nagged me mercilessly.  “What are you thinking?  Do you know how old you are? Why didn’t you train for this?  You’ll never make it.  What a moron!”  Those voices are the worst.

There was a lunch stop, but it was hard to eat.  I felt kind of nauseous -- maybe from the exertion, maybe the altitude.   I rested in the grass and didn’t think I’d ever get up again.  But soon the call came and we set off.  One step after another.

The afternoon was much like the morning.  The trekking poles were helpful; I did find a bit of a rhythm and we finally arrived at our campsite.  We had hiked quite a few miles and climbed from 9000 to 12000 feet that day.  We had certainly earned our dinner.  The group commiserated about our fatigue, expressed our gratitude for the cooks and the guides and the horses, and shared our awe of the mountains, but mostly we were ready, at 6:30 p.m., to sleep. 

It was already pitch dark.  And I mean dark.  And quiet. And cold.  There were no towns, no lights other than our flashlights, no noise, other than the wind.  It was us and the crystal clear night sky.  That night, for the first time, at age 59, I saw the night sky as it was in the beginning.  The Milky Way galaxy is no vague concept.  It is not a picture in a textbook.  It is a brilliant river of light that stretches across and dominates the sky.  Much like we do, the Incas named constellations but they also named the dark spots in that sparking band of light- the frog, the snake, the llama.  We were tiny specks in the universe looking billions of years back into time and into the infinity of space. 

Bone-tired tiny specks. 

At 5 am the next morning, we were awakened to the guides knocking on our tent. Time to get up!  Really?  They placed  basins of warm water for washing up and two cups of coca tea outside our tent to help us get going.  We noted, with some relief, that we did not experience significant negative effects of altitude- but maybe we should have done that research anyway….

The trail on second day was ‘rolly rolly Inca Flat’ (FAKE NEWS) and brought us to our highest elevation – 14,500 feet above sea level.  

We fell into our usual pattern—Ingrid, the 29 year-old speed demon in front, the rest of us, single file behind.  The mountains were covered by dry grasses- browns and golds blowing against the red and black rocks.  The sky was cobalt blue and we were excited to see the very rare Andean Condor, but no people, and little wildlife. 

Trying to focus on anything BUT how tired I was, I tended to focus on what was right in front of me—the trail and Al’s back.

One step.

Another.

One step.

Another.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

And then....

With no warning whatsoever, the view opened up.  We had reached the Kuychicassa Pass and in front of me was

Heaven had revealed herself and we found ourselves face-to-face with the mountain Willka Weqe, which is Quechuan for “Holy Tear.”  The name is perfect—this sight made me sob and laugh simultaneously.  I stood there, tears streaming down my face, experiencing a joy that emanated from the deepest part of my exhausted being.

Willka Weqe, stayed with us for the next two days of our trek.  Never again out of sight,  always protecting and nourishing the Sacred Valley. 

And us.

When we talk about travel as “life changing” or “transformative” we think about cultural experiences and global understanding.  Fair enough.  That is a big part of it.  But travel outside your comfort zone, whatever that means, transforms in a different way.  I have learned that I am capable of so much more than I think I am.  I am reminded that pushing though immense challenge brings deep joy and true pride.  I have learned that the moments that you expect to be inspirational, like seeing Machu Picchu itself, are indeed great but the unexpected, unanticipated moments are the ones that take root most deeply in my soul.  That night sky.  This mountain.  Those moments far off the beaten path.

I always close my blogs with gratitude.  I am grateful for the opportunities I have had to explore the world, to push myself, and to keep learning.