Yanama - Quelcamachay - Huancacalle: 30/07 - 03/08

Part 2 - You gotta cough to get off

Day 6

The evening before I dreamt of peanut butter, honey, junk food and video games. This day (while i was happy to be alive and well) was the first day of really not wanting to keep going - I was exhausted. This section of the trek was also the least described in my guide notes and having got (the usual) vague directions from the locals I set out a little apprehensively.


I followed the mighty Yanama River downstream to cross a makeshift bridge and followed the path through rainforest to a creek crossing. While I assumed I had to follow the path I got a little confused for a bit looking between two sets of two farms that both might have been my markers. The path eventually brought me to a campesino who pointed me upwards and onwards. I climbed and climbed, finally coming to the edge of the forest and a view of the grand expanse of the Valley Quelchamachay which was split down the middle by a huge wedge of lower mountains. As I continued around the valley the path dropped as did my spirits, as I knew the end goal on the morrow was a pass of 4600m which I was nowhere near at the time.

The vegetation on the steep slope was mainly intact due to scarce inhabitation of humans and I passed through more gorgeous cloud forest and waterfalls - there was no shortage of water on this section of the trek due to the protected and snow-fed microclimate. Down down I went and finally reached the river where I lunched and questioned a passing father and son for directions. It was sublimely beautiful. And i was on the right path, so pack up your spilt milk and soldier on, cowgirl. The cloud forest continued to impress me as did the multitude of birds flitting about.

Slowly a stark granite massif revealed itself to me - it was very reminiscent of the Fitzroy and Torres del Paine mountains in Patagonia. Being the only person there made it all the better and with every passing viewpoint was revealed more spectacular scenery. It was definitely the most beautiful day of the trek and one of the most scenically beautiful of my life - next to the magic river in basically uninhabited wilderness with the mist swirling around the Tolkien forest. It was an awesome walk and defintely inspirational, which was great for me as I was absolutely shattered from so much hard uphill.


Dark rainclouds threatened to unleash and did drop one or two, but I kept them at bay through sheer denial (and a little cloud-bursting). The last part of the day was a gentle climb into a surreal valley with a few cows and horses following the Inca stones. I set camp early, saw my campo friends from earlier again (people actually live there!?¿¡) and explored upvalley a little. My ultimate pass for the morrow was very close to the nevados and from my vantage point seemed nigh on impassable. Then I noticed the Inca road slowly traversing and ascending to a faint path to the top. Looked like fun to me!

Day 7

I`d set my alarm for early but woke at 130am due to being camped at around 4100m near glaciers. In the morning I scraped a thick layer of frost from my fly before setting off on the brilliant Incan path. I again saw the campesinos who seemed to be walking out of the steep bowl into nowhere - where the hell where they going? I took many breaks on my way to the base of the steep incline from where I was mentally steeled to execute a Galaga-fied ascent. In the end this wasn`t really necessary because of a decent path, and I was soon climbed into the snow towards the 4650m high Choquetacarpo Pass. Clouds swirled around the snow again and i was rewarded with great views back down the valley and over the two ranges to my right and left.

Getting to the top was a great moment as I knew I had finished the hardest ascent of the whole trek and (although there was another high pass going towards Espiritu Pampa) it was figuratively all downhill from there. I added to the many cairns dedicated to the mountain spirits, forced salty balls (yuk!) down my throat for energy and set off downwards to Huancacalle, still some 15km away. According to a official sign this path was protected Incan heritage and indeed it was consistent and very impressive in its construction with small bridges, proper drainage and some very wide sections. The last section became a dirt road which made for fast walking and I made good time, eager to reach the town where I planned to have a rest day.

I was pretty zombified by now and I was having serious concerns about whether I`d be able to continue - after eating my provisions for six days I was pretty much over them; my financial situation appeared very tough and of course I wasn`t in the best physical shape. I stumbled on past pathetic drunks that claimed to be guides (everyone is a guide here :) who automatically assumed I was with a tour company. I figured I might as well just get a $ sign tattooed to my forehead to make it easier for the Peruvians to understand what I was about as it sometimes seemed like thats all they see in me. I passed a couple and a 4wd, who after some tentative converstation invited me to join them back to Huancacalle - whoo hoo! But (fair enough I guess) they were interested in talking to me about lots of stuff as usual and i really didn`t have the energy to communicate in Spanish, luckily Dom spoke slowly to me and I got through with minimal pain.

As we entered small but nice enough Huancacalle we ran over a small pig - i watched the process of it quickly dying then the proceeding discussion of apologies and what to do from there including talk of paying for it - that definitely wouldn`t happen in Australia as the driver had taken due care but the pig was just slow and careless. So with carcass next to my backpack we continued down to Pucyura, the land of Internet and I soaked up the technology, charged my Ipod (!) and inhaled some chocolate greedily. Of course though, someone wanted me to buy something, even in the Internet place. The girl working there, Rutme, pronounced "Rootme", had a boyfriend called Roger (not pronounced "Rogerme") who carved scenes into wood like the olden day Cusco scene he showed me. Very fine work indeed.

I walked back up to Huancacalle and found exactly what I`d wished for coming into town that day - a camping place with a kitchen and electricity to charge my camera batteries - yes! So after waiting for and bartering with the resident manager Apolenar I had a great price, a place to rest easy and cook my savoury burgers and chocolate balls into a yummy soup and some nice company - Apolenar hand-crafted amazing textiles on a loom from alpaca and sheep wool and sold them for very little compared with his dedicated input. I checked the time as at Quelcamachay my phone had decided to reset itself and I after not checking the time had guestimated... upon confirmation it turned out to be exactly right... I am the legend of all legends. According to the guest book Apo had a steady trickle of visitors but I was the only one for my two nights. For every bowl of delicious salty broth he accepted from me he provided me with an appreciated cafe, bread roll and a chat- cheers Apolenar and Huancacalle Community Camping :)

Day 8

The next day I slept in until 730, whoo hoo! Free of the gorilla-on-my-back I stepped light as a featha to Vitcos, a restored Incan estate atop a hill just over the way from the township. Again the Incas had great eyes for the grandiose, symbolic and beautiful and with a spectacular setting made for another amazing experience - like the snow-capped mountains in Patagonia the Incan action was getting a little ho-hum! The terraces of Los Andenes were next on the agenda with terraces and carved boulders and then on to Yumi Rumac, a set of moated canals and carved rockery around a sacred boulder. The place had a solid feel to it and I sat for a while in front of the rock soaking the ambiènce of its carved steps and symbology. One collection of stone piece was arranged (or carved) into a perfect line such as I`d rarely seen in Incan stonework. Very cool - I then followed the Incan path back to town and enjoy some Peruvian local radio at Apolenar`s... loud male voices yelling at you enhanced with maximum 80`s effects over the top of local music. The music seemed a combination of Chinese love-twang and country/blues, by necessity including lyrics from the following selection - "corazon", "mi amor", "why have you left me¿", "i love you so much" etc.

Cusco - Cachora - Santa Rosa - Choquequirao Archaeological Monument - Maisal - Yanama: 25/07 - 30/08

Part 1 - No pain no gain

The Sunday evening I insisted on roast chicken with salad and chips, anticipating a serious lack of fresh meat and vegetables on the trail. Afterwards we upgraded considerably to ´Fallen Angel´, possibly the most artistically decorated restaurant/bar I`d ever been to and a prime location for lush progressive parties, the only issue being it is also a hotel :( Cool experience though, thanks for buying 20 soles drinks gals! Susanna loved it.

Day 1

Some sleeping, waking, exercising, packing & storing stuff and a great capuchino at La Bondiet happened before I farewelled and headed to the terminal for a long bus journey most of the way to Abancay. At the turn-off to Cachora I waited some minutes, then neatly folded myself up into the boot of a hatch-back and we wound down to the town. I found cheap lodging and then scoped the scene at Cachora - a ritzy (ish) restaurant and lodge, quiet residents and a town plaza with a definitely-in-the-Top-3 (depending on the continent) view, being of the Vilcabamba Range and Nevado Pedrayoc. Very impressive, I say. At the locals´ restaurant that night, everyone greeted everyone and I enjoyed myself before retiring.

Day 2

I was still recovering from high-adrenaline Pisac action the next morning and slept right in, but eventually got going down the hill after learning of the 35 soles entry for Choque, something I hadn´t really factored into my budget - it was a little concerning but I made some calculations and assessed myself as having enough plata (silver). I found the main trailing crossing the creek and up the wall of the descending valley, holding my height on a wide dusty trail through eucalyptus forests. The waters soon joined the mighty Apurimac River which had carved its way through to create a super-deep river valley and subsequent awesome views. As the trail started to descend I met Flavius from Belgium, also hiking solo but opting for the 4-day there-and-back option. I also paused to eat 1 portion of provisions (gain 4 stamina points). I had invested much time, thought and energy into these foods while in Pisac and it was time to appreciate.

Calculated trekking days - 13

Food per day - approx 900g of:

3.5 x baked sweet burgers (oats, banana, crushed peanuts/soya oil, salt, honey)

3.5 x baked savoury burgers (rolled quinoa, carrots, potato, salt, crushed brazil nuts/soya oil, honey)

4 x chocolate salty san pedro balls (previously described)

Total food at start of trek - about 11 1/2 or 12 kg!

The burgers were great and tasty, the salty balls starting to become hard to swallow but gave great energy. I stopped at a great lookout over them-there hills at 2800m, then began an intense descent. As you can imagine with all that food I was nearing 25kg on my back, and being tall with bad knees I had a very difficult time of it on slippery dust. I caught up with Flavius but soon had to slow the pace of a pottering granny as I´d also forgotten to clip my toenails (very important) and everything was rather %&%&ed - I hated it. We both rested a while at a hostel/camping area at the river (1500m) (which again invoked thoughts of MExico), crossed the Apurimac and began the relentless ascent up the other side. It was steep and tough, I had to stop many times in the 90min of our 700m vertical gain. It had been a painful day of approximately 1350m descent and 900m ascent, but at Santa Rosa we found an oasis of flatness along with grass and water to rest ourselves and an amiable old lady who fed me chica de caña (slightly alcoholic sugar-cane beer). I had enough time to set a flyless tent (yay!) and enjoy the beautiful breeze and perfect temperatura.

Day 3

The next morning I met Hugo, Paloma and Alicia, friends from Lima on a budget to Choque for the first time. After the outset Flavius and I separated due to differing speeds on the again very steep ascent - the two more intense hours to Marampata, where many guides, mules and clients rested, ate and camped before heading to Choquequirao proper. But even from there it was another 90 min to the very visible ruins, paying entrance and upping and downing through pretty cloud forest. I sent my tent below the main ruins and ate gifts from Michael of Pisac, San Pedro and chocolate balls with more cactus and less coca - much more palatable :) Cheers man! And so I was ready to Choquequirao.

Set amidst the mid-altitude (3085m) diversity of moist cloud forest, Choque retains a natural feel due to being quite spread out over 1,800 hectares, of which approximately 30-40% is excavated. * In Southern Quechua the name means Cradle of Gold - it is similar in structure and architecture to Macchu Picchu. The ruins are buildings and terraces at levels above and below the truncated hill top Sunch'u Pata (or Usnu as it was named). The hilltop was anciently leveled and ringed with stones to create a 30x50 platform.

Built during the reign of Pachacuti Inca Yupanqui, it may have been the last bastion of resistance and refuge of the Sons of the Sun who fled Cusco when it was under siege in 1535. Led by Manco Inca Yupanqui they took refuge in Choquequirao. According to the Peruvian Tourism Office, "Choquequirao was probably one of the entrance check point to the Vilcabamba region, and also an administrative hub serving political, social and economic functions. Its urban design has followed the symbolic patterns of the imperial capital, with ritual places dedicated to the Sun (Inti) and the ancestors, to the earth, water and other divinities, with mansions for administrators and houses for artisans, warehouses, large dormitories or kallankas and farming terraces belonging to the Inca or the local people. Spreading over 700 meters, the ceremonial area drops as much as 65 meters from the elevated areas to the main square." * (mainly from Wikipedia)

You could really see the artists hand behind this place. With such a variety of beautiful landscapes and architechtural wonders organically built into the geography, it had a surreal and sublime feel. With perfect afternoon sun I explored the diversity of structures including the LLama section at 200m or so lower than the Lower Plaza. This was a series of agricultural terraces with white stones depicting llamas drawn into the canvasses of their grey stone walls. The truncated hill-top of the Usnu was like a UFO landing platform, while the priests buildings below dedicated themselves to a particular distant peaks with both westward-facing windows pointed directly at it. The most beautiful area was the grand Lower Plaza of large stone halls and passageways topped by triangular rooves that gleamed in the sunlight, but my favourite area was the terraces directly below - of about 3m of height, a few trees here and there and very simple but so beautiful.

It was a different experience to Macchu - there was literally no guards or security; even though it was high-season I saw maybe 20 people all afternoon, including my camp neighbours Eric and Bridget from Stuttgart with whom I explored a little in the perfect weather. I ascended to above the highest ruins next to a stone aqueduct, setting up to soak the setting sun as it sunk past the snowy peaks and listen to `Envolver`. What a fantastic way to finish the experience. Thanks Incans!!

That evening I was invited by my friends from Lima into their tent - we partook in a cañaso ritual (sugar cane ethanol that people have decided is worth drinking) including offering to the mountains and mother earth and I shared some of my San Pedro balls and some English/Spanish conversation.

Day 4

The next morning I said my goodbyes and set out early, ascending past the ruins through the cloud forest for an hour or so, meeting arrieros (mule-hands/trek workers) and their mules supporting a Choque/Macchu Picchu trek, some 6 or 7 days from Cachora and passing through Yanama where I was heading. AS we rounded the mountain and began a consistently steep descent we discussed our respective costs of living/wages, what constitutes a good job and our plans for travelling. Of course I get the usual raised eyebrows around questions like `You`re travelling alone? Without a guide? Aren`t you scared? ` To which I patiently answer. But my favourite response to give is when asked `You don`t have a mule?` to which I answer `No, I`m The Mule` and succeed in cracking myself up on the inside every time.

On the descent I stopped in at the still quite undeveloped Pinchinuyoc ruins which included a trickle of water from its aqueduct, from which I happily filled. I finally caught up with the group at Victoria River after our 300m ascent/1300m descent morning. I was exhausted and crashed under shade in the epic canyon beside the rushing rapids, then stripped off for a quick wash in the icy water. The nice arrieros brought me a bowl of chicken soup, yummo dudes, cheers! Not so friendly was the haughty English-spèaking guide who kept his protective Latino arm around their two Danish (and, need I mention, female) clients, Sitta and Miriam.

The post-Victoria ascent had been described in both my guides as super-tough and I expected it to kick my arse. But after chomping some superballs and fully hydrating I set my jaw and set out, keen to get it done. This approach was working well until a few challenges arose - firstly a drunk arriero passing the opposite way thinks I`m a mule (or The Mule) and hurls a sizeable stick which hits me in the face. I was OK, shaken but not stirred. The next issue came on soon enough though - large blood-sucking midges had been pissing me off no end, so I took out my insect repellant and applied liberally, including directly into my eyes. )&&%ed up. But my worst dilemma was a lack of water. This dry season certainly was dry, and without glacier melt the rivers and creeks would be very low. However the glacier catchments are of course very specific and my area wasn`t one of them. I didn`t want to but had to ration my agua as I kept onwards and upwards. At one point a recent avalanche had spread unstable scree right across the path, and on the incredibly steep slope it made a crossing very undesirable as one slip meant a sure death. As such I searched some nearby cow tracks for an alternative, leaving my bag right near the avalanche. After disturbing a few bovines I heard some rocky movement, then more and finally a huge rockslide smashed down the hillside. Luckily my bag was not swept away in the chaos, escaping with only a dusting. I managed to cross with extreme caution and continued (as recommended by my guidenotes) towards the sounds of farm animals above. Eventually the Maisal ranch came into view late in the day and I collapsed on the lush grass in a state of shatteredness. The two Danes and I shared conversation and pretzels while soaking the atmosphere - amazing 270 degree views including the mesmerising glacier and peaks of Corihuaynachina, hilarious farm animals, a cool evening breeze and beautiful shining stars.

Day 5

Early starts were the norm for this trip and this day was no exception. My legs were very worn out from the get go as I rounded towards Corihuaynachina, up and down through cloud forest seriously degraded by aggressive and adept farm animals like goats, pigs and cows - the latter are far more agile than you might think. Eventually the animals` range lessened and I continued towards the San Juan Pass through great cloud forest including impressive stands of Mountain Cedar. The vegetation eventually changed to paramo which featured lichen, fungii and mosses like the striking redness in the photo below the glacier closeup. I passed an ancient silver mine used by both the Incas and Spaniards and witnessed an abundance of silver (I think) embedded in the stones of that area.

The water situation was no better here than the day before - my water situation was a recurring theme in this part of the trek as I needed more than my usual requirements due to several factors. 1/ My food was all dried and I therefore needed h2o to process it. 2/ I was carrying a shitload of weight. 3/ I was at high altitude. And the toughness of the trek was starting to take a toll. I was tired, thirsty and frustrated, and decided one of my patented short-cuts down a side cow-track was in order. I followed my nose through the grassland/scrub and eventually found a trickle of cow-flavoured water to refill with. From there I saw a track that seemed like my one in the distance, rounding the mountain and ascending slowly. In reality it was just a regular cow route to high pasture and the real path had reached its apex directly above me, but I stubbornly refused to backtrack, thinking I would rejoin the main path soon enough. As I came to high point after high point I thought each coming one would provide me with the easy pass and descent I was searching for but of course was mistaken, and I with a consistent refusal of turning around I was getting into a deeper and deeper mess.

I came to a steep, elevated basin underneath Corihuaynachina with seasonally dry lakebeds and a small rock ruins. I didn`t want to turn around so the only option was to pick the comparitively easiest route to the north (where I knew Yanama was roughly at) and climb my way about 700m up and out with Captain Heavy Pack. I didn`t know how much time I would need or even if the mountains were passable, but I decided to do it anyway. I planned the ascent like the stages of the Galaga computer game... Stage 1, Stage 2, then CHallenging Stage, mainly so every time I achieved another Stage I could give myself that cool Galaga sound effect. As I ascended further and the slope got steeper and rougher I became more and more scared. My main problem was water - I knew if i had to I could survive the cold as I had plenty of food and warm layers, but without water at such altitude one could be shafted pretty quickly.

But adrenaline is a strong drug and I completed 3 of my 5 stages (dert-der-deh-delert!!!). From that point I had great views of the glacier and some rare wildlife. The blurry photo that looks like your Mum and Dad going for a Sunday stroll in the park is actually of Andean Spectacled Bears, rare in any part of the Andes. There`s also a suspicious looking brown shape behind them; I figure its probably their puma friend accompanying them for a cuppa at home in front of the hearth. I know what you`re going to say (in an Arny accent): It`s not a puma!

I could not continue up as I had planned so rounded the next viewpoint to find a disheartening scene. Thick cloudforest blocked my way underneath a cliff - I couldn`t climb up the steep rockery nor did I want to lose any more height, so I tried to find a way up and out of my hole, with no success. I was very scared due to a lack of water and the fading daylight and delirious due to exhaustion, dehydration, lack of oxygen and San Pedro. I was in a helpless situation and very angry with myself. At that point I almost broke down and gave in to the fear.

But instead I asked the universe to convert my fear and stress into oxygen, because thats what I needed the most. I focussed, breathed and re-focussed, then plunged into the forest despite the branches catching my pack and followed the cliffline down. To my relief it soon curved around and I was able to continue ascending, albeit slowly. But as the forest continued and with all the slipping, tripping and catching I was losing it. After passing another dry creekline I stopped and seriously reflected upon dying on the mountain - I thought of all my loved ones and all that I wanted to do. I prayed to Gaia, the universe and all of time and space for my life and again repeated my prayer for oxygen from fear.

Sure enough I soon saw grassland and an end to the forest - I struggled through and climbed out to get sight. Up the hill was blue sky! This meant at least a flattening out of the landscape, so I braved steep slippery grass to push hard for the level point. The last bit required some serious footwork around a cliff but I was on a roll and finally reached my goal. Ahhhhhhhh! Tears of joy!! Right then was the most emotional moment of my life, not only because by looking down on an `easy` descent to Yanama I knew I was safe but also because I was looking at the most spectacular mountains I`d ever seen in the Vilcabamba Range. Since starting to be lost I`d felt like something was calling me - I`d thought maybe it was Yanama township but actually it was those mountains.

I had a new lease on life - I ate and drank my water and started downways. This side of the mountain was fairly well grazed but still retained a beautiful atmosphere of grassland, bromeliads and cloud forest amongst a serious rock festival. My rapid, ankle-mankling descent soon got me to the first of the beautiful stone houses of the people of Yanama, whom I questioned to find a campsite for the night and my walkmates from that morning. But I eventually found out they had camped further on from the town itself and therefore didn`t seem too preoccupied with my fate despite not seeing me at lunchtime as we`d spoken of. Whatever then, I just think in Australia people would be far more concerned.

Yanama was a lovely, clean and proud township and I found a pampa (flat bit of ground) to set camp at Fabian`s and shouted myself some sugarry goodness. Ahhh, it was good to be alive.