Pilgrimage to Picchu

Frogs croaking, hamstrings tender, hot cocoa in hand and rain beginning to fall, we settled in for our second night on the Inca Trail. It was a trying, but rewarding, day for everyone. We awoke at 6am to begin the 3,000 ft ascent up Dead Woman`s Pass which summits at 4,200 m (12, 600 feet), and racked up a good 18 km (over 11 miles) before hobbling into Camp 2 around sunset. The mileage didn`t weigh on us as much as the 3 consecutive mountain passes that had us climbing and descending for hours on end. The knee-jarring Inca Steps got the best of even the toughest hikers. But the views of alpine lakes and snow-capped peaks kept us going, eager to know what lay beyond the next bend.

It`s difficult to sum up the experience in words. The pictures don`t even do it justice. The image of Machu Picchu, plastered on postcards and airport walls and singed into our minds since childhood, finally became a reality. Watching the heavy mist lift at sunrise to unveil the treasure we`d hiked 4 days to reach was completely surreal. But it was the challenge, friendships, dramatic scenery and ruins we saw along the way that made the trek what it was -- every hour spent hiking a puzzle piece of the big picture.

Km. 82 greeted us with heavy rain as we began our trek early Saturday morning. Clad in rainbow-colored ponchos, our team of 16 internationals dredged up the muddy trail, all the while thinking ¨better now than Machu Picchu¨. The weather cleared by midday, and our damp bags dried in the sun as we munched on a delicious lunch that kept the group´s spirits high. Ruben and Edwin, our comedic and knowledgeable guides, gave us the game-plan for the next few days while we sat overlooking the Urubamba River Valley and ruins at Llactapata. Surrounded by steep green hills leading up to two jagged mountain ranges, the valley was only a taste of the beautiful views we would take in over the next few days. Clouds hovered around their razor edges as we continued past Camp Wayllambamba (where most companies set up the first night) and up the start of Dead Woman`s Pass. The serene campspot, and the edge we gained on the other groups, was well worth the extra hour incline with packs fully loaded.

The second day had us ¨knackered¨, as our Aussie and Brit companions said often, bringing us from 3,200 m up to 4,200, then back down to 3,600 where most groups camped the second night. Ruben, our guide, had a different plan. With a smile stretching across his animated face, he said, ¨We keep climbing, arrive at 2nd camp, worth it, y´know, it´s beaauuutiful, you got it??!!¨ We groaned, grabbed our packs and started the climb, all the while Ruben repeating, ¨you know, you on Inca Trrraaail, you can DOOO it!!¨ And we certainly did, but not before the 21 porters carrying our tents, cooking gear, and extra sleeping bags jogged by us in sandals. We were amazed by their strength and effort. Even the 65-year-old porter only managed to stop and rest a fourth as much as we did. We paused at the Runturacay Ruins, an egg-shaped lookout point above the deep valley, just as the rain began to fall. The peaks rising steeply from the valley reminded Ryan of Haleakala Crater in Maui. By the time we arrived at the ruins of Sayacmarka, the strong Andean sun had broke out and warmed us.

Rain poured hard on the second night, from dusk till dawn, and we started our third day as Team Rainbow... again. But the skies cleared quickly, and made the 3.5-hour-long descent from the third pass at 3,700 m less slippery. We made it to Camp 3 by midday for hot showers and another amazing lunch. The meals that were provided were always excellent. We then tirely trekked to the nearby Wiñay Wayna at 2,650, the ruins known as the little Machu Picchu and meaning ¨Forever Young¨ in Quechua. It was there we witnessed the clouds parting and the sun casting its brightness on the white peaks opposite us. They looked straight out of the Himilayas. Ruben explained that it was a center for meditation practices of the ¨childrens of the sun, knowledge peoples... like me,¨ which made sense with such a drastic landscape. Blue sky with spots of grey clouds met jagged peaks abruptly turning to jungle before slamming into the river valley where the mighty Urubamaba flows. Just as he explained the flag of the Inca, comprising all the seven colors of the rainbow, a huge rainbow painted itself between the mountains and valley. He quickly took us to the main quarters where he explained the strategic position of the seven windows facing that same valley; each time a rainbow forms, it is in the same spot.

It wasn`t until nightfall when the other tour companies dragged themselves into camp after a day twice as long as ours. We were glad Ruben decided on pushing us the second day, as the third, he said, was a ¨piece of lemon pie¨. We followed his orders exactly and slept like ¨alpaca baby, not thinking anything, nothing¨ for a few precious hours before our 4am wake up call began our FINAL day!!

Flashlights in hand, we left camp at 5am to complete the last 2 hours of the 49 km (31 mile) trek to Machu Picchu. When we reached Intipunku, the Sun Gate, by 6:30am, the sky had become light but was covered in heavy mist. We could hardly see 20 m ahead. As other tour companies marched on discouraged, Ruben proceeded to stand on the ledge and blow exasporatedly. ¨I blow clouds away, you got ITTT, the view, it`s incrEDIble.¨ Sure enough, the mist was gone in a matter of minutes, exposing the ruins we`d pushed ourselves so hard to get to, far below.

We honestly lack the words to describe the journey from here on out. We descended to Machu Picchu as the sky grew brighter and clouds thinner. We marveled at the stonework, only 80% complete when the Spaniards arrived in Cuzco (never to Machu Picchu) in 1533 and the Incas fled to the jungle. Ruben gave another enthusiastic tour before we were given free time to bask in the sun on the terraces; the 10:30am sweet-smelling crowds from Cuzco had yet to arrive. Ryan surmounted the energy to ascend the steep Wiñay Picchu, and got to see the birds-eye view of the condor-shaped ruins.

We all know how much Ryan likes to take photos, and each one tells a bit of this story. Hope you enjoy! They may appear cloudy, but we actually lucked out with a sunny final day at the ruins. We´re headin´ home! See you Monday! For the photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/clapoma/PilgrimageToThePicchuS