However, that gem of an experience would have to wait until after lunch. The total hike today was the longest leg of the trip, 15K (or about 10 miles).
The morning started with a straight incline. Unlike the previous day, today would be filled with "Inka flat" trail, which mostly means up and then down and then up and then down. We've come to know that there is no such this as "flat" when a Peruvian person describes a trail and the best you can hope for with "flat" is limited stairs.
We would climb to summits two and three today, but thanks to the aforementioned Gringo killer, we had a net downhill for the day.
The previous night and this morning may honestly be the coldest I've ever spent outdoors. We were warned to wear two pairs of socks, even inside our zero degree bags, and suit up in our warmest hats and gloves. This was not overkill. When Marco, our assistant guide, arrived at 5:30am with steaming hot coffee at our tent, it was almost too much to reach my hands out and mutter a "Gracias". Bless Marco and that wake up tent service. If only I could be stirred each morning with a hot cup of joe in real life....
Anyhow, once we'd eaten breakfast, we were off. The first hill wasn't as daunting as it had looked. When my toes reached the first step into the sunlight, I could almost feel them again. We wound our way up yet another set of granite stairs and into a set of ruins that served as a break during our climb.
Juan explained that all around us, there were Incan trails that we could not see. The last Inka (Manco) fled from the Spaniards into the mountains in this area and both created many decoy trails and also destroyed almost all paths that could lead the invaders to his people. The real paths were yet to be fully discovered. Many paths led to nowhere and had this been overgrown again. Therefore, we couldn't see these trail, but trusted our guide that they were there.
After this break, we resumed our climb to the second summit. While seemingly brutal, it was nothing compared to the day before, and we'd been informed that this was the last great climb of our journey. That made it all theory bearable. Reaching the top of summit two was incredible. One way, we could peer across at the 14,000 monster we'd scaled yesterday, and the other way was sweeping jungle valley. It was breath taking.
We began our descent into the "cloud forest" or high jungle of Peru. It was beautiful and very different than the Amazon basin we visited earlier in our travels. The air was still crisp and fresh, not humid and heavy. We wandered downward in search of our lunch camp, stopping at another beautiful set of ruins along the way.
Lunch was, you guessed it, filling and fabulous. After lunch, we would wind out way through a path of slight inclines and declines to reach the third summit of the trip. I think this was everyone's favorite part of the trek . We were hiking on some mostly flat trail high in the Andean peaks. The views were humbling, awe-inspiring, and sometimes downright terrifying along the way. The path could be narrow at times, slick from the most, and passed through more than one tunnel/cave rock formation that was pitch dark to walk through. It was rad.
When we reached a spot just before the last little climb to the third summit, we paused to really admire the view. We could see in the distance, Aguas Calientes, the town at Machu Picchu. It was a point that we could grasp in time and place. We were making so much progress.
We reached summit three and paused for a bit because we all knew what lie ahead- the Gringo killer. It would take two hours to get down from there to a fork in the road. If we reached this fork before 5pm, we were instructed to go left. If we were slow, we were supposed to go right and head straight to camp. The path left led to another set of ruins. Allegedly, this was our guides favorite thing to see along the trail and encouraged us to giddy-up. It was 3:10. Off we went.
I cannot begin to recreate the strong string of colorful expletives I developed for the Incan people this afternoon. The most family-friendly started with "those Incan assholes...". The spiral downward was the most brutal for me. Jeff didn't seem to have too much trouble, but after a while, every step was painful. My feet and calves were attempting to make up for my tired ankles and knees, which resulted in a hot, hard-headed mess. I, of course, both refused to slow down or to take breaks. You see, while I was cursing the entire culture, I knew Jeff would like to see the other recommended ruins. I was confident in that moment that I never wanted to see another Inka creation ever again, but I sure as shit didn't want to be the reason that Jeff didn't see it.
It was quite interesting to learn on this journey that while Jeff excels at the downhill, I do not. While most would agree that down is far better than climbing up, going up is way more my thing. We were opposites, go figure! However, the views were breath-taking and I was determined.
Once we reached the bottom of the spiral staircase the Incan people so considerately dropped in the MIDDLE OF THE JUNGLE, we reached flatter ground and finally reached the fork in the road. It was only 4:48.
We opted for the route left. Here, I really picked up speed. After a few minutes, I realized Jeff wasn't even in sight behind me. I was glowingly increasingly uncomfortable with the level of darkness that was falling. Jeff and I fell back into our rhythm and made it to the ruins in 15 minutes. I have never been more mistaken about the need to visit this detour from the trail. This was the most humungous set of heaping terraces there ever was. It was incredible to see.
Far below we could make out the camps and even farther in the distance, the river that winds to Machu Picchu. We stopped for a few minutes to take it all in, but not for too long. We had to make it to camp before dark, and dusk falls early in these parts.
As we started to curl down the path to the bottom of these terraces, I emerged from a wooded area slightly ahead of Jeff. I was greeted by a black Alpaca, grazing away about 20 feet ahead. He looked up as I barreled out of the trees. He was looking right at me! I turned back the single track trail to whisper at Jeff for the camera. I stopped. Jeff reached me and also saw the alpaca, who had taken a few steps our way, still staring right at us. He continued towards us. All at once, I start to envision us being attacked by a wild alpaca. Do they even have real teeth? They eat plants! He kept coming, and we managed to snap this photo:
He shimmied right passed us, as we both pressed ourselves to the mountainside of the narrow trail, and kept on lumbering up the trail. Good luck to the next hikers he meets.
We continued downward and about 30 minutes later, we reached our final campsite. Taking off my boots had never felt so good.
On a side note, I love my Merrell hiking boots. The trip to Peru was their maiden voyage, and I suffered not a single blister or irritation. #winning.
We ate an early dinner and crawled into our tents as quickly as possible. The wake up call for Saturday was 3:30am. We needed to hike the last 5k (3 miles) to Machu Picchu before sunrise.
Someone saw a snake in camp, and that was enough for me to ask Jeff to check our tent three more times before I locked myself inside until morning. It was a blissful slumber, for the next 6.5 hours.
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