Trek to Machu Picchu: Dias Uno y Dos

Dia Uno:

Yawar explaining Quechua
      history along our trek

Machu Picchu is the main reason the majority of the tourists come to Cusco in the first place.  So, the fact that it has been almost a month that we have lived here and not gone to the Old Peak yet was a bit troubling.  But it was time.  We began our first day on Friday morning with a 7:15 am meeting in the Plaza de Armas.  Our group trickled up to the meeting spot on the stairs.  Sarah and I grabbed coffee and bread from our favorite chocolate croissant place in the center of the city, Panam Cafe.  (Im actually in Panam right now writing this blog, that’s how much I love this place)   We were carrying our two 62 liter backpacks that were moderately full because we had to expect everything from cold mountaintops to rainforest conditions.  Sarah and I had realized we over packed when all the German girls (6 in total) showed up with just a book bag of supplies for four days.  We received our tickets into Machu Picchu and our train tickets home with instructions to guard them with our lives.  We stuffed them in our passport along with every other important document we may need for this trip.  Not too much time passed before a short, brown, thick-legged Quechua man in a colorful traditional alpaca chullo lead us to our collectivo.  We piled in with our bags sitting “comfortably” in our laps.  We drove up the mountain to a bike shop where we waited patiently in the collectivo as a couple small men threw bikes up on the roof.  With our ride sufficiently packed full and loaded, we headed on our one-and-a-half hour journey to our first stop in Ollantaytambo.  On the way up we got to learn a little bit about all the people we were going to be hanging out with for the next four days.  Most importantly we got to know our short, brown, Quechua guide named Wilberth. But most of his friends call him by his Quechua name, Yawar.  So we collectively decided as a group we were to call him Yawar.  Yawar spoke passionately about the history of his people and land.  He had respect about where he is from that we could feel when he spoke.  But at the same time he was goofy and friendly with laughs about the cultural differences of our dynamic group.  After clearing out of Cusco and coming down the hill towards the Sacred Valley we finally made it to Ollantaytambo.  We hopped off the road to a small store/deli.  We stretched our legs for twenty minutes, got a sandwich, and had enough time to realize that the Andes Mountains had a style of their own.  They are mossy with green vegetation growing on every possible surface of rock.

  

Checking out the 

Andies in Ollantaytambo

Scenic view on the way up

Sarah and I did the rain dance thanking the Inca gods for not having rain at this point in our trip.  Then, we spider legged back into the small collectivo and headed up the mountain to Abra Malaga which sits at 4,350 meters or 14,272 feet.  Here we unloaded and got ready for our bike ride down the massive mountain.  We couldn’t help but think during the ride up, gazing out the window, how the first Quechua people traveled these mountains and what the Spanish were thinking when they invaded these lands. We took one switchback after another all the way up.  The higher we got, the better the view of the awesome scenery that we saw on the way up.  It finally started sprinkling rain when we got to the cloud line, which we expected.  We unloaded and layered up, because it was cold at the top and left our bags in the collectivo that was following us to our next stop.  Some of us had full cage helmets that I have never worn before in my life, but somehow felt as comfy as a football helmet to me.  After a safety brief about how to not die on a bike in Peru, we took a moment to appreciate the mountain view.  We filed in line with our tires turned downhill towards the small town of Santa Maria, our next stop.  

Unloading the collectivo

Ready to head down the mountain

A stop in the cloud forest

Winding in and out of the clouds we could feel the warm pockets of air going down into the jungle.  We winded our way down through the cloud forest one sharp turn after another getting closer to the valley floor.  Awesome views were around every corner showing the true beauty of Peru.  We finally got down low enough for our guide to warn us about five or six waterfalls that poured over the road we'd be riding through.  The first waterfall was the deepest and fastest flowing of all the others.  Sarah and I both swore if it was running any harder, it could have swept us off our bikes and off the edge of the road.  The other waterfalls were fun to go through at high speed and left us soaked, but we didn’t mind.  We made our decent until finally reaching the valley floor.  Santa Maria wasn't too far down the road, so we stopped riding and packed back into the collectivo.  Santa Maria sits at 1,250 meters or 4,101 feet.  For all of you who are curious but unwilling to do the math, no worries, I got you covered.  We traveled a vertical decent of 3,100 meters or 10,171 feet in a matter of two and a half hours.  This was obvious to us because we had stripped off all the layers of clothes that we would no longer need during the rest of our trip; we were now in the jungle. 

Panorama of the valley and the road headed down to Santa Maria

Sarah hiking through Santa Maria

We rode twenty-five minutes down the bumpy road to the small town of Santa Maria.  The whole town was under construction and luxuries included running water (cold) and a toilet to sit on.   We walked into our hostel and were appointed our dorm style living quarters with two shared bathrooms with showers in the middle outdoor common area.  I was the minority male in my room with Sarah and the six German girls.   That night consisted of an exploration of the small town, a great meal from the local restaurant, and quick meeting with Yawar about the next day.  Afterwards, we all headed towards bed.  We knew we had an early morning wake up the next day because we were told in our meeting about the eight hours of hiking we had to do to make it to our next stop in Santa Teresa.  None of us wanted any part of staying up late.  So after brushing my teeth and seeing the biggest spider in my life, which I was told is a common smaller tarantula, we quickly feel asleep.

Local restaurant in Santa Maria

Old Peruvian town 

Dia Dos:

            The second day we all woke up mentally prepared for our eight hours of hiking.  The whole group knew that the eight hours would be well worth it when we arrive to Santa Teresa with the hot springs that awaited us.  We grabbed an early morning breakfast, threw on our packs and headed down the dirt road to our trailhead.  On the way we noticed the abundance of mango and banana trees surrounding us.  We passed through an old rundown town that looked like an old Hispanic western movie set and followed the Urubamba River up to the trailhead at the base of a mountain.   The Urubamba River was no ordinary river, but the most powerful river I had ever been close too or seen.  With muddy water and sounding like a greyhound bus at full throttle, it was obviously the rainy season.  

Mango trees everywhere

Banana tree

Headed to trailhead

Hiking up

Anyway, we all knew this point our mission was going up and over to the other side of the mountain on a trail that went straight up.  This was all right with us since Yawar told us that we had a couple stops at some houses on the way that had monkeys.  He referred to it as the 'monkey house'.  We made it up to the first monkey house where we met a nice old Quechua woman who had snacks and drinks to sell, but most of all, a small monkey that was tied to a door.  He was tied up for good reason too, because he was jumping around trying to grab and bite anything in sight; small monkey bites though, nothing blood drawing.  We took a rest and got a chance to play with the monkey before we hit the trail upward again.  The further we got up the more we realized how much altitude we were gaining.  With the small riverbed below us at this point, we made it to the second monkey house.   We met another nice Quechua woman who had all the same things to offer us travelers, except she had passions fruit juice - real passion fruit, and it was cold.  Sarah and I gulped down two glasses of that sweet heavenly nectar.  We got a small cultural briefing about coffee, coca, fruit, and vegetable productions in the jungle.  We also got a little insight about the annatto plant and how the native Quechua people used the red blood seeds to paint their faces for rituals.  We learned about how the Quechua people respected and prayed to the gods for the governing of their lives which mostly included the cultivation and weathering of their lands.  Thanking Pachamama or Mother Earth comes with the rituals or even small sacrifices such as pouring out a small amount of the water before drinking to replenish your body.   Respect for the powerful environment we were in was abundant in the way the native people were still living.  We met the monkey at this stop, which was tied to a tree but was much less interactive.  Apparently a German girl accidently stepped on his tail while taking a picture and the monkey has never recovered since.   After a good rest and an awesome overlooking view of the valley below we packed up to continue our accent up and over the mountain. 

Annatto face paintings

Annatto plant

View from the second monkey house

View of Urubamba river from the top

Cliffhanger

Finally we made it to the top but the challenging part of the hike was not over.  Since Inca people are very small, this constructed trail that traversed and descended down the mountain was very steep, very narrow, and had very skinny steps.  We had to be in full concentration for the first part of our decent because there was around a 1,500-foot drop off to the left of us all the way to the Urubamba River in the valley floor.  We eventually scurried down the mountain in a quick decent to a small tin covered restaurant along the river.  This restaurant was literally in the middle of nowhere, but we were glad to have some hot soup and to be out of the rain that was heavy and steady at this point.   Lunch finished quickly and I took the chance to grab one of the covered hammocks just a few steps from the restaurant.  Like I said it was raining pretty hard at this point so, with the sound of the rain on the tin roof and the swaying hammock, it took little time to persuade me into a light sleep.  The occasional drip of cold water through the tin roof on my bareskin didn’t bother me one bit since I was in prime post-lunch real estate. 

Traversing across the mountain

Carefully climbing down

Inka sturdy bridge

On the Indian Jones bridge

            After lunch, Yawar told us we would be walking along the river and our travels up and over mountains would be over…. for today. The rain had become steady as we trekked along the river passing over waterfalls on “Inca sturdy “ bridges.  Some bridges were made of sticks while some more professionally built. Needless to say, we definitely followed directions when instructed to go one at a time over some of them.   We eventually came to a bridge that passed over the Urubamba River that looked like it was constructed for an Indiana Jones movie.  Excited and nervous, we made our way across the swaying bridge trying not to notice the old rusty cables or the roaring water below.  After successfully crossing over, we followed the river for another hour or so knowing we had to be close to our destination.  We had to cross the river one final time to reach the last stretch of our trek to the hot springs in Santa Teresa.  Only our method for crossing the river this time was by cable car.  Sounds pretty benign at first, but we soon realized it was a small metal basket pushed and pulled across the river on a cable.  I don’t know what I envisioned when I first heard 'cable car' but when I saw what it was, it seemed right at home with the South American experience.  In fact, if it was a fancy motorized gondola, I probably would have been disappointed.   We anxiously waited our turn and then it was time for Sarah, our new Dutch friend Arthur, and I to squeeze into the basket to be sent across the river.  We were given a solid push and glided to the middle of the cable, where, for a second, we waited over the turbulent river.  After being suspended for a second or two we were pulled over to the other side.   Before we knew it we had survived the cable car across the river. 

Cable car crossing

            Our group made it across three at a time and we got ready for our last little stretch to the hot springs.  We had to go up the side of the mountain a little bit to avoid the river but on our way back down, the trail took us right over the hot springs.  Tucked into the base of the mountain next to the Urubamba River, they were the most beautiful hot springs I had ever seen.  With eight hours of hiking finished, our legs and feet aching, we couldn’t get off the trail and into our suits fast enough.  A lot of words come to mind in trying to describe how those hot springs felt, but only one word could add the sense of relaxation and beauty of the atmosphere: the place was simply divine.  The huge green mountains surrounded by low fast moving clouds, powerful river nearby, and warm natural water were enough to make Sarah and I not want to leave.  In fact, we were the last people in our group to pack up and pile into the collectivo to leave to our hostel.

Hot springs in Santa Teresa

            We had officially finished our longest day of the four-day trek.  Everyone was hungry and tried.  We had wanted to try to hang out, have a beer or two, and see what nightlife there was at the discoteca in this small town, but the hostel beds were calling us.  We all scarfed down our dinner and set sights on our beds.  Sarah and I had to mentally prepare for the adventure we had in store for us - zip lining across the valley with the Urubamba River, hundreds of feet below us.  With dreams of rolling the dice on South American cables and our bodies tired from our day of hiking, sleep found us early and quickly.  Just like that, half of our four-day adventure was over and we had yet to even come close to the main event.  Machu Picchu was still at hand.     

Our group on an overlook going down to Santa Teresa