Macchu Picchu, Peru - Hike Day 2

The "Challenging" Day
I didn't sleep alone, my high altitude headache kept me company throughout the night.  When I did manage to drift off for an hour, he tapped me on the temple to wake me up.  I don't think I slept more than 3-4 shallow hours.  I woke up feeling worse than the night before.  At breakfast there was a lively discussion.  We had the option to hire a local chaski (porter) to carry our pack just for this day.  Manny and the other guide, Nilton, were encouraging us to do so.  I didn't need any encouragement.  "I just feel if I don't carry my pack, it would be like cheating" said Emma, an Englishwoman with rosy cheeks and doughy limbs.  A few of the younger Americans agreed.  I kept my mouth closed.  We were all cheating.  Without the chaskis to carry the tents, food and cooking utensils, a chef to cook for us and guides to lead us, we'd never make it half way to Macchu Picchu.

In the end, just 6 brave souls of the 16 decided to carry their packs.  From left to right: Lauren the animal lover, the two Aussies Matt and Leanne, Alec, Michael and Emma.  I had no doubt that Matt and Leanne would do fine.  The rest were going to suffer.  Michael had brought up the rear the day before - he'd flown in to Cusco then done a high altitude hike the very next morning to prepare for this hike.  It was a rookie mistake - he'd gone too high, too fast and now he was suffering from high altitude sickness but was in denial.  He and Alec were friends but you'd never know it - Alec never helped or waited for Michael.  After breakfast I happily gave my pack to a chaski and took Dodo's light pack to carry.

We started the day straight up and it didn't stop for the next 7 hours.  I felt so light without my pack, so wonderful.  I was wheezing at the start but fell into a rhythm.

Dodo was tight lipped and grim the entire day.  She looked miserable to me though she denies it.  "Not miserable, just tired!!"  Due to the difficulty of the climb all the hikers from the various tour groups caught up with each other and clogged the path.

The word "chaski" means "inca messenger" and is a more dignified term for porter.  These guys carry a heavy load - upwards of 40-50 lbs.  They are in amazing shape.  Since they are so much faster than us and need to get ahead of us we were trained to get out of their way.  When a chaski comes up behind you, you step to the side and yell "chaski" to let everyone know to move aside.

 

At the steepest part of the trail, where it was clogged with hikers, I decided to follow a chaski like a car follows an ambulance to skip the traffic.  I hopped on his heels as he went by and followed him step for step with my head down.  I heard "chaski" being called out and saw shadows stepping to the side as we went by.  It was a ridiculous pace - twice as fast as I'd been going before.  In just two minutes, we'd passed everyone on the trail.  Aside from the usual headache, dizziness, burning lungs and inability to catch my breath I felt a new sensation.  One I'd never felt before.  The muscles in my lower abdomen were quivering.  I felt as if I were about to lose control of my bowels.  Just at that moment, the chaski stepped to the side of the trail and rested his pack on a rock ledge to take a break.  I did the same.  He smiled at me.  I was proud to have stayed with him.  We conversed in Spanish for a few moments and then he was off.  I stayed put much longer.

I waited for the Dodo and the two of us walked together.  I had no idea where the rest of our crew was.  The ascent had splintered us completely.

Dodo and I mostly kept quiet, we were both breathing heavily.  A llama was munching in an adjacent field and we stopped to take photos.

We continued up and the llama followed us.  He walked along with us, stopping to tear at some grass once in a while.  It was a magical moment that took our minds off the pain.

I didn't think it was a good idea to pose so closely but she never listens. 

Lunch was the only thing we were thinking about at this point.  It was something to look forward to.

Manny and Nilton had told us to look out for the black mountains.  A few weeks back a fire had spread along the trail, turning the mountains from their usual grey to black.

We finally saw the lunch tent.  I had a feeling of ecstasy.  Just being able to sit there for an hour was so wonderful.  After lunch Manny suggested a group picture with all our chaskis.  We were headed to Dead Woman's Pass, the highest point of the hike at 14,000 feet.  I wondered whether Manny thought this was the best time for the photo as not all of us were going to make it.  Manny is standing on the far left with the colorful hat.

Before taking a step I took a shot down the trail from where we'd started in the morning.  We'd done about 2,000 feet.  You can just see our morning camp in the crevice where the mountains come together.

As we started our afternoon ascension, many of the tour groups were mixed together.  There was one particular group of English folks from Manchester who had as their star hiker a 61-year old woman with some kind of degenerative motor neuron disease.  Her gait was awkward and she kept balance with two walking sticks.  She lurched from side to side slowly.  She was soaked in sweat but didn't seem to be suffering in the least.  I walked behind her for a while, awed by her determination.

As I'd guessed, of the six brave souls on our team, the Aussies Matt and Leanne were doing fine.  Alec was doing ok but the rest were suffering mightily.  Lauren finally succumbed and gave her pack to a chaski.  The Englishwoman Emma was pinker than usual.  Her nose glowed like a red christmas bulb.  Michael was way in the back, so far back that nobody was quite sure where he was.  Nilton, one of our guides, was surely with him since his job was to play sweeper.

Dodo and I reached Dead Woman's Pass about two hours after lunch.  We joined Matt and Leanne and waited for the others.  Manny suggested we all wait and take a group picture.  He couldn't convince the ringleader Maya and her three friends.  They had no interest in his suggestion or the rest of us and took off towards camp.  Alec joined us, then Emma, then Lauren (sans pack) and we all decided we'd wait for Michael no matter how long it took him.  The Mancunians were all around us waiting for their star.  A few minutes later there was screaming and hollering and I looked down the mountain and saw the handicapped woman approaching the top.  We all stood and started clapping to encourage her.  I was biting my lip to hold back tears as were a few others.  She stepped onto the top and her crew swarmed her, giving her hugs.  "Oh my god, I feel like I am going to cry" said Ashley, one of the Americans on our crew.  A few minutes later we screamed and yelled for Michael as he struggled to the top.  Dodo ran over and took his photo.  Alec, his friend, was nowhere to be found, he was already on his way down the other side of the mountain.

Dodo and I took a photo at the Dead Woman's Pass marker.  The wind was howling - I had on two hats and all the layers in my possession and I was still cold.

One more look back down.  The path is on the right side of the picture.  That is 4,000 feet of climbing in one day. 

The rock path down the other side of the pass looked like a dusty version of the yellow brick road.  A steep, windswept path towards dinner and sleep.

We put our walking sticks to good use, trying our best to go down slowly and not tweak a knee or ankle.  We were to descend for 3 hours.

On the way down we looked back up at Dead Woman's Pass, so named for the rock formation at the top.  It's supposed to look like a woman on her back but I didn't really see it.  My walking stick is supposedly pointed at her breasts.  Once we made it to camp the chaskis gathered and clapped for us and welcomed us home.  It was a spirited dinner, we'd all made it through the hardest part of the trek.