Dreaded day 2 began at 5 am. Our Swiss mountain goat mate disappeared way ahead of us within the first ten minutes. Bernie and I slowly began the first two hours of the uphill climb until the rest stop. We made it in an hour and a half, and were feeling pretty darn proud of ourselves. At that rest stop was the last village and signs of humanity until the end of the trail. The previous night, the 3 of us and Jonathan talked about buying some alcohol if possible. So we bought a bottle of rum to celebrate if and when we made it to camp 2. Of course we made Jhonathan carry it because our 2 kg backpacks felt like 20 kgs.
Thus began the second leg of the two hour climb to the highest point of the trek. Once again we started off okay, until we weren't okay. The slope began to get steeper and steeper and we finally reached a curve in the mountain where we realised what we thought was the top of the mountain wasn't. It was much much higher and the slope looked like a vertical climb. At this point, I had to stop to catch my breath every 5 steps. Jhonathan walked close behind me and Bernie encouraging us as we slowly made our way up, as the porters with their 28 kg bags ran by us.
The last 15 minutes of the climb was ridiculous. I had to stop every 2 steps. I literally couldn't walk or breathe or see or think or anything. At this point I offered Jhonathan and random porters $100 to carry me the last ten minutes. They declined. Inch by inch we continued on. I saw Bernie reach the top and I genuinely didn't know if I could make the last 20 steps.
I finally did after stopping every 1 step, and when I reach the pass, I collapsed in agony and happiness. We were so high up, that all of a sudden there was a hail storm and we had to rush to put on our jackets and ponchos and gloves etc. Like I said, the weather and scenery changes by the minute, from tshirt and shorts to gloves and scarves!
After a couple of pictures, we began walking down the mountain. Those crazy Inkas, they could've found a way around the mountains, but no, up one and then down and up another! If I have painted a vivid enough picture of how steep the climb up was, you can imagine how steep it was going down. Luckily we rented trekking sticks and that's the reason why we survived.
At the bottom of the mountain, we stopped for lunch and began the next two hours of uphill climb. At this point, I began enjoying the walking and even the difficulty of it all. And the views, spectacular. No words. At the top of the second pass, after seeing some interesting Inka sites, we began the last bit of downhill. Once again extremely steep and hard, but we played 20 questions and it was much more fun than concentrating on not falling of the cliffs and dying, as the porters ran by us.
That night at the camp, Jhonathan made us "Te Machu"... Rum tea to celebrate us surviving the hardest day. Honestly, I was so tired I didn't even want the rum. Me!
But we survived and chilling at the camp surrounded by very mystical mist, I thought to myself, I'm on the Inka trail in Peru. Who would've thunk it?
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| One of my many breaks |
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