The Inca Trail was a massive undertaking. I recall living in Hamilton and ‘helping’ a friend train for it. He had weights in his backpack and we walked around the streets at night. I can say that I completed this training, not even anything close to it. Nevertheless, I had completed two hikes in South America and three in the past year. I was ahead of my normal game; however, I was scared of what affects the altitude may have on my non-hiking ability and me. As for Laurence, I was pretty sure that he would make it – a stubborn beast that can make himself do anything if he has told everyone that he is going to do it.
We arrived in Cusco, ready to go. Well, we had to buy a water pack, some thermals for me, some socks for the evening times, and some snacks – that is ready – right? We actually spent a lot of the time looking for and eating nice food (there is a lovely place called Mr Soup, which is wonderful – I am not sure that we would have gone there so often had we known that we were going to be served soup for lunch and dinner every day of the walk!).
Our “first day” on the package involved us heading out to a couple of Inca sites and exploring the areas. At our first site, Laurence spent most of his time chasing after the llamas that were loose. No matter how many times that boy sees llamas he is always equally as excited. The main point of the day was to get to the hotel right before the start of the trek. Of course, the hotel had their own llamas as well and, of course, their dedicated ‘pooping’ area was outside of our room window. Laurence spent a long time waving out the window at them. In the spirit of going on a big hike, we decided to carbo-load on our last night, pizza for the win.
The first day of the hike went well. Our six-kilogram bags were given to the porters to carry; they were each carrying about 30 kilograms each. We all walked at a faster pace than expected by our guides and we especially enjoyed being cooked for by about six Peruvian men. The food was surprisingly good and plentiful. However, the actual walk itself was interesting. It was not hard per se, but it was harder than I wanted it to be. This was supposed to be the easy day; I had hoped that I would find it really easy but I found parts of it more difficult than expected. That evening, as I enrolled my fellow walker to give my legs and feet a massage (something that I hoped would continue throughout the walk, but did not), I questioned whether I would be able to complete the trail. Laurence, of course, was fine. He completed it with what seemed like ease.
The next morning we discovered that one of the men on our trek was sick and had decided that the struggle of the day before was too much, that he would not be able to complete the trek. His friend decided that he would stop with him. Day 2 and our group was already diminishing. With that in mind, we packed our bags and continued the walk. Today was touted as the most difficult day of the trek. We walked the Dead Woman’s Pass in three sections, up to the check-in point, a morning tea break, and then to the top. After the incredibly steep walk up to the check-in point, I realised that this was going to be a long and hard day – perhaps harder than I thought it was going to be. After that, I put my music in and looked at the shoes of the person in front of me, a girl called Latoya. If it was not for her willingness to slow down when I was struggling and to encourage me up the pass I might not have made it. We walked the second two sections in about 2 hours each. I was never at the front of the group, but I was not at the back either. I was very proud of myself for making it up the pass. Laurence, of course, put his music on and when I lifted my eyes from Latoya’s shoes I saw him bopping his way up the pass. I could see that he was tired and finding it difficult, but he did not stop bopping until the last 30 or so metres before the top. Soon after taking photos, it started to rain, hard. I had forgotten that once we got up the pass we still had hours to walk before making it to the campsite. Walking downhill (for goodness sake – I only just made it up the massive hill!) for hours in the rain was painful. Not exhausting like the walk up but it was slippery, slow going.
Day 3 was a mixed bag. We knew that we had a long day ahead of us, walking both up and down considerably but finishing at roughly the same altitude. The only problem was that we were sore, tired, and it was still raining. Motivation wise, this was my hardest day. The issue was that I could either go back or go forward and both involved an awful lot of walking – there really was not a choice, but man I wished all day that there was a choice, that I could catch a helicopter, a packhorse, a llama or something. Long day short, we made it! The final night on the trail, only one morning to go in order to get to the sun gate.
The walk to the sun gate was nice, real Peruvian flat (i.e. up and down, but not too much up or down). Laurence, Latoya, and I walked it pretty fast and made it there by around 6:00am. The sight was spectacular and the masses of people were behind us. We were not the first from our group but we were some of the first people there.
After 4 days of trekking, no showers (except for the tubs of hot water they put outside your tent in the evenings), too much food, rain, sunshine, and exhaustion, we still actually had to walk from the sun gate down into Machu Picchu. This was an undertaking that I was willing to complete. This last day made the rest of the trek seem worthwhile.
…But I will never walk it again.