A view from 3rd camp, that river crossing makes it tough.
A subtle sunset viewed from the camp outlines the jagged and rugged mountains.
The mountain path from Marampata, camp 2, to the ruins. Three days on the outside edge...fantastic.
It is difficult to relay the feeling of being on top or near the tops of mountains, few people, if any,
about and not have a clue where in the world one is. The only access back to, as some like to say, civilization,
is to follow the trail or path. Miss that path and one is lost in what feels like the middle of nowhere.
The isolation, the tranquility, the beauty of the mountains and the night sky filled with an untold number
of stars is not a feeling describable easily. It probably means something different to each of us. Should a
spectacular sunset precede the evening dusk, then better still. Sitting in the darkness and gazing at the jagged
outline of the mountains, sometimes aided by moonlight, the trickle of a stream or the pounding of a stronger
flowing river breaking the quiet, enhances the atmosphere but also highlights the insignificance of the individual
in the context of nature. At the same time, the individual also has the privilege of enjoying the sights and
feeling the atmosphere without any restrictions. Perhaps nature too needs the human to compliment it else who
or what is there to appreciate the miracles occurring in the world each moment.
We reached Choquequirao Ruins in poor weather.
One of very few gentle and short slopes; hence, a happy editor.
After emptying the guts in a non-traditional way, Jenni captures the mood of both her 'man' and town.
We looked across the ravine before us and realized our initial destination, as the crow flies, was only
another mile or so away, perhaps a 1,000 feet higher than where we stood. The latter position was on the
first day after hiking less than three hours. Because we are not crows, we hate that phrase about these
birds as it’s meaningless to pedestrians, we had to walk down to the river some 3,500 feet below and then
up 4,500 feet. As hikers, one thing that gets to us is to walk down when the target is above. Seems silly
but then who are we to argue with the Designer of the mountains. Once we had reached the position we had
viewed from afar the previous day, we still had a further 1,500 feet of inclines to negotiate to arrive at
Choquequirao Ruins and get back to camp at Marampata. Arguably, it was the toughest day in our hiking lives.
People have asked, ‘When are you going to end this nonsense…um hike-about?’ Our answer has always been when
we no longer derive enjoyment from the adventures. Well, if anyone presented us with resignation forms within
thirty minutes of the peak last Monday, we might have quit. We thought after the trek we would be wiped out
for a few days. Surprisingly, after 45 miles in three days with elevation acquisition of over 12,000 feet,
we felt good, quite normal...in a manner of speaking. Yet the night before we left for the trek, Jenni returned
from the bathroom and mentioned that she felt tired after brushing her teeth. Too many teeth? Actually, we
both began to cough again. Our diagnosis is that the quality of the air, heavily laden with dust, was the
problem. We never wished to be doctors but we obviously have the flare for the profession. Hum!
Soon after crossing the river, the big climb begins. Thereafter, it got progressively steeper.
"How much is that doggie in the box?" Our baggage comes across the river under heavy guard.
The only time we were disappointed with one of the locals was when the guide kept saying, “Marampata, Marampata…”,
while pointing towards the sky. (Our tough, initial destination.) After a while, we said in a fit of pique,
“Marampata does not exist; it is a figment of your imagination.” Fortunately, he spoke not a word of English.
Talking of brushing teeth…at camp three, Jenni headed for the banos in early evening. The mosquito-like
insects were particularly prevalent and ugly that night. As a defensive measure, she covered her face and
neck with insect netting. Good thinking! The feeble structure of the banos included a commode with an exposed
front and low mud walls on three sides, hiding the participant while seated but not in the upright position.
Flushing was by way of filling a plastic, gallon size container with water that was stored close by and pouring
it into the commode. More water, better the flush. The mosquitos, not wishing to be thwarted by the clever net
placing on the head, attacked that part of the body recently exposed in the banos. The revenge of these terrible
mites was very nasty from our perspective. Some four days later, the results are still prominent. Who would have
thought to spray repellant on both ends?
After years of searching, finally found Jack's beanstalk. As for Jack...
Reminds us of scenes from Hawaii but with snow.
A makeshift crib in a rather drab environment, to put in gently.
And still on the subject of bathrooms, it’s interesting to see that in each village, many of the homes have
a business which is the selling of drinks, candy and other consumables. The liquids are broadly, Coca Cola,
water, Gatorade and Inca Cola. We always marvel at the sight of these booths in the mountains where human
traffic amounts to less than ten hikers per day. In getting back on track, we have fixated on the Inca Cola
but had no desire to give it a try. One reason might be that it is not a low calorie drink. The more important
detracting feature of the cola is that it looks as close to urine as the real thing. Our editor has displayed
enormous courage on this trip but she understands when she’s out of her depth. She stayed with water.
After reaching the second camp, we faced lightning and rain. We tried to explain to the guide that
we don't hike in lightning. 'Ah!', he exclaimed. He ran into the hut and returned with a flashlight.
So much for our explanation. Fortunately, the lightning passed soon afterwards.
'Reach for the sky'. One of many attractive peaks.
We both were hesitant about the last day's climb after experiencing the downhill two days before.
Fortunately, we were in fine form and literally 'ate' up that mountain.
After the tough second day component, we lay in the tent savoring the moments and resting the bodies.
Soon after falling asleep, we awoke to the sound of a grinding noise. What could it be? We were the only
campers and the few residents were in their huts, including a cute baby. It sounded like the chewing of cud
but with less than graceful manners. Our editor worried that it was a cow with her calf and that they might
stumble over our tent. The thought was not pleasant. We decided to investigate. Sure enough, a mule was
eating alongside the tent. We expressed our dissatisfaction with the animal by speaking in our best
South African accent: “Voetsak,” we shouted, and the animal bolted but only about 15 feet. We returned
inside, feeling the hero in front of our lovely, but weary editor. After all, we had faced the
great unknown on the top of a mountain in the middle of the night. We lay down again only to hear the
grazing animal continue. Added to that, these animals have no inhibitions. There is no reluctance to
emptying their bowels anywhere and at any time including at our entrance.
Snow and cloud integrate on the peak, Salkantay.
Because of the heavy trail use by the beasts of burden, there is a very good covering of dung or manure,
if you prefer, which adds to the importance of good foot placement. For locals, it appears they don’t
differentiate between manure and soil. Back to the evening’s rest after the tough day. A little while
later, the residents came out the hut and explained to the mule that it should ‘scoot’. Perhaps they were
less polite than that. One of the dogs rushed out to enforce the ruling. After a further five minutes,
the dog returned from herding the mule but it was yelping. We guessed it got a solid kick from the errant
animal. Thereafter, all was well until about 3:30am when the rooster’s alarm clock set him off early, we would
think. It’s a good thing we don’t need the sleep. What do they say…it’s a waste of hiking time.
One more point about the animals. In many of the small-holdings including town homes, all types of animals fill
the spaces. At our commencement point, we saw chickens, pigs, mules, dogs, cats, guinea pigs and maybe other
birds and animals, too. A fascinating aspect was to watch them get along with each other. At no stage did we
see any aggressive or threatening behavior bar the dog and mule mentioned above. In fact, the arrogance of the fowl
shown to their more powerful neighbors was surprising.
Another peek at a Hawaii type of peak.
Looks like a back alley where schoolboys could grab a smoke in 14th century.
The older we get, the more time passes for us to think of the issues of life. The experience of seeing
different cultures, people and lands has exceeded our expectations. More importantly, although we do visit
cities, the real essence of hike-about is being in the country, the mountains, the lightly populated or
untouched areas. We get a great feel of places by visiting and meeting locals, especially the less sophisticated
populace. In addition, it has been incredible to meet fellow hikers and travelers on the trails over the years.
There are many but a few stand out who have not only touched us but have influenced us. We particularly think
of Jonna from the east coast, Michael D from Sedona, and two gentlemen from the great state of Oregon,
Bill A and Barry J. Having met and corresponded with them has been and continues to be uplifting occasions.
It's not what's for lunch, fellas but who's for lunch. The crowd gather around the main living area at camp 2
Although we see much misery and suffering in the world, we think we have our own understanding of why the
world still exists. When we look around, we see the need to nurture and provide a place for babies. What is
more beautiful than the human baby? In addition, look at the animal young ones, too. Then add another ingredient
or relationship—mother and child. Can there be anything stronger and purer than the link between mother and baby.
So whenever we see and read of the awful cruelty and inhumanity that permeates throughout the world, we are
strengthened by the beauty of the little ones as well as the bonds between those same cute babies and their moms.
On completion of the trek, a taxi-type vehicle and driver took us on a 'min-dae' ride to the main road. In local
parlance, it means we were moments away from instructing the driver to halt and let us out the car and rather
walk up the mountain to the bus stop. Although he wasn't reckless, the wide turns he made as the car careened
around and on the cliff edges was frightening. Our editor closed her eyes and we don't have to guess what she
was doing. We were involved in some last minute estate planning. Upon reaching the main road, we waited at
roadside for a double-decker modern bus. It seems one flags down this inter-city bus and after some brief
negotiations between Mr. Silvio and the driver, we headed for Cusco on a 4-hour drive. In a touching moment
just before then, Jenni took off a jacket she had purchased for herself and gave it to Mr. Silvio to hand over
to his daughter-in-law. The picture of the baby above is his grandson.
A 7-century old structure.
As always, at the conclusion of a hike-about segment, we like to thank our friends for their interest and
those who made comments, suggestions and even some compliments—thank you very much indeed. It is very special
knowing we are not alone particularly in some of those wide-open spaces. Finally, a special thank-you to
Barbara and Gary Frank for encouraging us to visit Peru. We suppose the greatest compliment we can pay them
is that we believe the experience was much more than we could ever envisage. Quite frankly, it was profound.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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