Dos what?!?

Wednesday September 3rd, 2014.

Santa Cruz Island and South Plaza Island, Galapagos Islands, Ecuador

Its 7am and we are waking up for the first (of two) yacht tours of the Galapagos! We are super excited and only have about 30 minutes to get ready and go wait outside for a large tour bus to come pick us up. At this point, we are both realizing that we really have nothing to wear. We had put extensive thought into packing for the Inca Trail portion of this vacation and no thought, whatsoever, into this part. I end up wearing jean shorts and a fleece (over my swimsuit) and Laura ends up in a turquoise muumuu, which she drunk-bought the night before.

We are ready – let’s do this!

We only have to wait a few minutes outside of our hotel for a large bus to come pick us up. The bus is empty; we are first on the pickup route. We sit with our noses pressed against the window while we get an impromptu island tour of hotels-that-are-nicer-than-ours. Soon we arrive at the dock on the opposite side of the island (this is the dock that where the big boats come in… different than the bay dock, which is next to our hotel). As we wait for our yacht-for-the-day to arrive Laura and I purchase some pretty bad coffee from the snack shop on the dock. Soon the yacht arrives and we have to take a little boat to board it (the water is not deep enough for it to come all the way in). We board the little speed boat, clutch our coffees tightly, and we are off!

The crowd on the boat is very international and we all sit quietly, hypnotized by the waves for the 2 hour trip to South Plazas Island.     

When we finally arrive, we are treated to a quick island tour half in Spanish and half in English. The guide goes through the Spanish explanations first (which we try to translate) and the English explanations second (which completely discredit our translations). Early in a Spanish explanation of the marine iguanas, Laura catches the phrase “dos penes”. She tells me that she thinks that means two penises, but we are sure that she misheard. Later, during the English explanation, we discover that she did not, in fact, mistranslate. The marine iguanas have evolved two penises, thus allowing them procreate with greater consistency. We cannot stop giggling.  

South Plaza Island is known for its marine iguanas, land iguanas, and crazy flora. The whole island is covered with red plants (later I learned they are called sesuvium) with intermittent large green cacti. The water is a deep blue and the view is amazing.  After a short hike (and a million pictures), we head back to the boat for lunch.

Lunch is pretty good, it consists of fish and veggies (an omelet with veggies for Laura). We take a quick boat ride to a famous snorkeling / dive site where we will see all sorts of little fish and go on a hunt for sharks. The Galapagos is known for its shark population and mainly consists of hammerheads and reef sharks, but there are many other kinds as well. We are going to an area that is known for white tipped reef sharks. Don’t worry, they are nice, our guide assures us.  

Immediately I am amazed by the very large schools of brightly colored fish, which are basically everywhere. Snorkeling in the Galapagos is like floating through a National Geographic magazine. I am happy with all the weird fish, but our guide eventually pulls me over to a group of rocks where he is frantically pointing his flashlight. He watches me with great anticipation until I finally recognize that I am staring at a shark and then he explodes with joy. Our guide is sooo happy, its contagious. He quickly swims off to find more tourists.

Eventually we all board the yacht and begin the trip back to Santa Cruz. We get back around 6pm and load onto the bus to head into town. From here we shower, change clothes, and have a little time to spare before dinner. We spend the evening shopping, drinking, and generally appreciating the beautiful weather and views. Puerto Aroya is really cute and since all of the boat/tour people leave around 5pm, it’s like we have the whole town to ourselves. After dinner and a few rum-based cocktails we head back to the hotel for another full 8 hours of sleep.

Tomorrow is Yacht Day #2. 

The greatest giant land tortoise photograph of all time.

Tuesday September 2nd, 2014.

Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands, Ecuador

Its 7am and we are slowly waking from the best 13 hours of uninterrupted sleep that has ever occurred in history. The sun is up before us (for the first time what seems like forever) and we are very well rested. Today we will be exploring the island of Santa Cruz, but first we have time to go into town for coffee and breakfast.

We are staying in Puerto Ayora, which is one of 2 towns with hotels located on the islands (this town is much larger than Puerto Villamil, which is located on Isla Isabela). We quickly find an open restaurant and sit at an outside table and begin pursuing the menu for the perfect breakfast. There are many options and, after almost of week of no food decisions, I am feeling overwhelmed. Eventually we both put in orders for very large plates of breakfast food. I also order coffee and Laura orders a cappuccino. Breakfast is lovely and we have plenty of time to relax, return to the hotel, and get ready for the day.

Right at 8am, Alexandria and our driver arrive at the hotel. Our first stop is El Garrapatero, a beautiful beach. When we arrive it is completely empty except for a guy renting kayaks. Alexandria wanders off and Laura and I are left alone on the most beautiful beach of all time. I am feeling adventurous so I go off to secure a kayak for a quick paddle. I have to make the transaction in Spanish, but renting a kayak is a pretty basic task, so I flub my way through it. I spend about 30 minutes paddling around, but eventually get scared and turn around to join Laura on the beach. We sit quietly and intermittently wander in and out of the water. This is very tranquil.

After the beach Alexandria takes us to the highlands where the weather changes drastically and we are able to see views of the entire island. She talks a little bit about life on the islands and takes a few pictures of Laura and I. She says that I look better without my hat, so I should make sure to take it off for photos. In hindsight, I agree.

Next we are off to the see the giant land tortoises. This is going to be cool. As we are driving to the tortoise farm we see our first giant tortoise drinking water out of a make shift water trough close to the edge of the property. It is super cool and we take 10 pictures each. Only a few minutes later we are stopped because one of the giants is taking a nap in the middle of the road. We all get out of the truck and are slowly approaching when a small bus approaches from the other direction. It soon becomes clear that the tortoise is not going to move on his own accord. Our driver and the bus driver both have a plan though. We are all to grab part of the shell and drag the 300 pound creature out of the way. Laura and Alexandria are immediately on the case. Meanwhile, I am on my camera phone. After some grunting and heavy lifting the group eventually clears the road. We are free to make the rest of the drive to the main house at the farm.

After looking around the main area for a few minutes, we all sit at a table in an open air dining area. We are served an amazingly delicious piece of tuna, some vegetables, and plantain chips with hot sauce. This will be our best meal in the Galapagos. When lunch is over we watch a short documentary on the glory of the Galapagos.

As it turns out the tortoise farm is filled with very mean ants and we are not allowed to walk around without large rubber boots. Of course we do not have socks, so we both have to go barefoot in the large boots. It doesn’t matter though, because we are about to enter land tortoise-plalooza. There are so many tortoises, it is truly unbelievable. Every time I think I have taken my last photo another opportunity presents itself; we are both in hot pursuit of the greatest giant land tortoise photograph of all time.

Once we are done with our loop of the farm (and our sockless feet are officially swimming in sweat) we load back into the truck and head into town. Its only 5pm, so Laura and I have some time to kill before dinner. Alexandria suggests that we go to the Darwin Center and tortoise hatchery and drops us close by. We walk around for a little bit, see baby tortoises, a few land lizards and I finally get my picture next to the Darwin Research Station sign (a major check on my bucket list). We also spend some time at the cheesy tourist shops just outside of the Research Station.

As it becomes dark we head back to our hotel to shower and make attempt #2 at going to dinner. This time around we are successful. We end up eating at one of two restaurants that are included in our tour package. The menu is not impressive and neither is the food. We both end up eating veggie pasta and Laura chokes down a glass of Ecuadorian wine.  

After dinner we do our best to find a bar to relax and have a few drinks. Everywhere is basically empty, but that does not stop us. A few rounds later, we wander back to the hotel for the night.

Tomorrow we go to Santa Fe Island! 

Bubble gum scented pesticides, that's my favorite.

Monday September 1st, 2014.

Quito, Ecuador / Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos Islands, Ecuador

Its 5am and we are waking up extra early to catch our flight to the Galapagos Islands. The hotel is very far from the airport, plus we will be hitting Monday morning traffic. The previous evening we had booked a cab for 5:30am but, alas, it does not show. After standing in the dark lobby for a few minutes, a desk clerk eventually appears and helps us get a cab. On the way to the airport we chat with the driver in broken Spanish and arrive safely with plenty of time to spare.

The airport looks even nicer than I remember. There are high ceilings and lots of empty space. Since we are traveling to the Galapagos, we have to go through a special line and run our bags through a screening process that will determine if we are approved to enter the biologically fragile environment of the Galapagos Islands (as it turns out the main determining factor is whether or not you have $150 for a temporary visa… don’t worry though, we have known about this for a while and are both prepared).

Bags checked. Visas acquired. 

Next we need to check into our flight. The airline personnel are exceedingly kind and try to nicely explain to us that if both take window seats then we cannot sit together. We quickly explain that we do not want to sit together and to feel free to seat us very far apart; the kind women looks surprised, but obliges us anyways. It’s nothing personal.      

Once we are boarded and on our way, I was surprised to learn about a mandatory stop in Guayaquil. It’s not that big of a deal, but we have to sit on the runway for a while and are not allowed to use electronics. Having finished my book several days before, I am feeling quiet bored.

We are nearing the airport in the Galapagos when the flight attendants suddenly storm the cabin with pesticides. They are spraying the ground and the insides of the overhead bins. It’s explained to us that this procedure is required before entering the protected area of the Galapagos and before anyone can argue, they are already done. I am worried for the health of my lungs, but the air now smells of bubble gum, so I feel calm.

As we stand in line for customs Laura and I fill out the required paperwork. It asks questions such as: Have you been camping recently? Are you carrying hiking boots? Do you have anything made of wood? Uh oh. In an effort to be truthful we both end up answering “yes” more often than “no”. When it’s our turn to talk to the guard we are both nervous. He looks at us and at our bags and sighs (our truthfulness has irritated him). After a long hesitation, he waves us through. We are happy that he is not a hero.

We have booked transportation from the airport to our hotel and are extremely surprised to find an eager guide standing by the airport door holding a sign with Laura’s name on it. Success (finally).

Our guide’s name is Alexandria and she has a plan. Laura and I are both tired and still sick, so when Alexandria explains to us the 37 things that are going to happen next we both totally space out. It’s okay though, Alexandria is treating us like idiots... ergo its okay to act idiotic.

We are herded onto a bus, a little boat, and, eventually, into a pickup truck. With great urgency Alexandria explains that we are to check into our hotel, drop our bags, put on swimsuits, get back in the truck, go to the dock, and then sit quietly while we wait for her to bring us lunch. Alexandria is pushy and we follow her instructions.

As it turns out, we have plenty of time to eat and enjoy the view before our boat arrives for our tour of the bay of Santa Cruz. We climb onto a small motor boat with about 10 other tourists. The driver seems to really like me and Laura and is constantly grabbing our cameras to get pictures of the birds and sea turtles. The tour turns out to be pretty awesome. Immediately we see blue-footed boobies. Next our guide shows us the sharks by throwing his flip flop in the water (thus enticing them to come up to the surface). Then we make a stop at a lagoon where we see tons marine iguanas (this is the only place they exist!). Our tour ends with almost an hour of snorkeling with a gigantic sea turtle who keeps swimming right up to me (I am simultaneously terrified and amazed). On the way back to the dock our guide sings and stands on his hands. He is working us for tips and, in the end, we do not disappoint.

Once we are back on dry land, we realize that we really have no idea where our hotel is. It takes a little effort, but eventually we make it back. We both shower and get ready for dinner. The shower is Amazing and we decide to rest for a few minutes before heading back into town.

It’s nearing 6pm and before we know it, we are out. We cannot go to dinner. We both know this but feel mildly guilty that we are missing out on an opportunity to explore. With no discussion whatsoever, we come to the mutual understanding that we are staying in for the night. We are at the beginning of 13 hours of uninterrupted, sea-level sleep. The Galapagos are awesome.

Tomorrow – we will take very many photographs of tortoises.

Vacation: Round 2

Sunday August 31st, 2014.

Cusco, Peru / Lima, Peru / Quito, Ecuador

Its 5:30am and time to get up for our flight to Ecuador. Time of day no longer matters though. Our standards have changed and now all wake up calls past 3am are acceptable.

We take an overpriced cab to the small airport in Cusco and prepare for our flight to Ecuador (via Lima). The entire flight is long (a little over 5 hours), but we are not hiking, so we are both happy.

After a quick layover in Lima, we land in Quito, Ecuador for Vacation: Round 2. Prior to departing the US I had booked a driver through our hotel to meet us at the airport. We anxiously search the arrivals area, but we have been stood up (its okay, we are getting used to it). We find a taxi driver and explain where our hotel is located and he happily obliges us. Cab rides from the airport in Quito are a flat fee of $20USD. We are very surprised when the cab ride takes almost an hour to get to our destination (Wait a minute - did we just scam the cabbie?!?).

We are staying in a hip part of town and are ready to check in and explore. Our hotel is really more of a hostel and the desk attendant is asleep on a couch in the lobby when we arrive (its 1pm, also known as, a good time to take a nap). We begin to explain that we are checking in when it becomes clear that there is a major communication barrier. I am speaking what I thought was Spanish, but I am making no sense, whatsoever. Laura, is faring slightly better than me, but it’s a struggle. Many hand signals and overzealous facial expressions eventually earn us a key to our room and two shower towels. After dumping our gear in our very large room, we head across the street to a super cute pub/restaurant.

I am officially ready for my first post-trail alcoholic beverage. I order a Heineken and Laura gets a pina colda. I feel the effects of my beverage quiet quickly (we are still 9200 feet above sea level) and unexpectedly begin to laugh-cry into my beer. They are tears of joy – I am so happy to be out of Peru!

After our celebratory drinks, we take a short walk to the historical center of town. Central Quito is actually one of the UNESCO world heritage sites. It is beautiful, but, honestly, it looks a lot like San Francisco (but with more prostitutes). After a nice walk, and some silly, drunken photography, we head back to our part of town, where all of the bars and restaurants are located.

So far Quito is awesome. It’s beautiful, the streets all have sidewalks, it doesn’t stink… clearly society here is much more advanced than Peru. For this reason we are looking forward to a really good meal as we are both (almost) ready to start eating again.  

Unfortunately, the food here disappoints, severely. After reviewing an endless row of menus we go into a small diner that is playing 80s music videos on at least 5 different big screen TVs. It is way cute and we are looking forward to eating when the server informs us that they do not have any veggie burgers and their vegetarian options are extremely limited. Bummer. The search for dinner continues.

Eventually we end up at an Ecuadorian version of TGI Fridays. It’s not ideal but both of our stomachs are still hurting pretty badly and they have potato skins on the menu, so we take a seat. We split a big sampler platter, which is pretty bad. It has potato skins (with un-melted cheese on top), chips, cheese sticks, and few other snacks. We are both offended by the potato skins, but it doesn’t stop us from eating them all. After dinner we go out for a drink. Neither of us wants to, but its habit.

Eventually we end up back at our hotel room. I take a long, super-hot shower and, finally, start to recover from Vacation: Round 1. We fall asleep relatively early and will have to wake up early to get a cab back to the airport for our flight to the Galapagos Islands.

Tomorrow we will finally get back to sea level!   

I will have the Doritos and orange juice, thank you.

Friday August 29th, 2014

Inca Trail, Machu Picchu and Cusco, Peru

At 3am I are waking up to begin the final hike to Machu Picchu. After nearly 7 hours of sleep, my mental and physical state is slightly improved. I manage to drag myself out of my sleeping bag and over to the breakfast tent.

When I arrive, the porters are serving pancakes. I feel hungry but my mouth is still very dry. I attempt a few bites but am unable to swallow. I offer my plate to my trail friends and the food is gone before I can complete my sentence.

After breakfast, we dutifully join the group at the line for the last checkpoint. Our guides are near the front and call for us to pass the others so that we can stand with the group. The other hikers do not like this, but Dad is pushy, so we eventually end up near the front. It is still dark and cold outside. And now it’s starting to rain. We have to wait nearly an hour for the checkpoint to open up before we can proceed.

There are conflicting stories as to why the group had to line up at 4am when the checkpoint doesn’t open until 5. One possibility is that our guides wanted to be at the front of the line; another reason is that the porters have to pack up the gear, run down a hill, and catch an early train back to Ollantaytambo. Neither of these reasons is good. I am grouchy.

Once the checkpoint opens up, we shuffle through and are on the final leg of the hike. The guides are going fast and about half of the group cannot keep up. Other groups are passing. It is a race to the ancient ruins and our group is definitely losing.

Eventually, Dad comes to terms with the fact that his group is the slowest and stops to rest while everyone else passes by.

It’s still dark and very misty but the sky is starting to light up and the views are incredible. I am still fighting some pretty nasty stomach cramps and exhaustion, but it’s hard to not get caught up in the excitement of this portion of the hike. 

  

After an hour or so we eventually arrive at the sun gate, an Incan ruin that overlooks all of Machu Picchu and sometimes directs the sunlight into one of the ancient temples below. There is no sunlight now, only waves of fog intermittently allowing spectacular views of the ruins below. I use this opportunity to sit and rest. I really do feel terrible, but we are very close to the end and I am focusing on keeping it together. After very many pictures, the group continues the hike down to Machu Picchu. Eventually, we arrive. Whew.

Raul tells the group to take 30 minutes to use the restrooms and grab a snack from the café. I am overly excited to see a “civilized toilet” with running water. Next, I attack the café. Exhausted and starving, I am unable to make a rational food decision. I end up with Doritos and orange juice for breakfast. For the first time since yesterday morning, I am able to chew and swallow food. My mouth finally works again.

Machu Picchu is really, really big. Things are often smaller in real life – Machu Picchu is much bigger. I was surprised to see an abundance of guards and free-range llamas.

Eventually, we meet our guides and the rest of our group at the entrance. We are surprised to see Dad wearing a clean set of clothes with slicked-back hair. I wonder if he carried that hair gel this whole time? He definitely looks sleazy; it’s weird and funny.

Raul walks us around some of the ruins and explains how Machu Picchu was always known to the indigenous people and was only found by American explorers when a little kid accidentally spilled the beans. He also explains how a lot of the buildings were used and then attempts to field several questions for which he does not have answers. After the tour, Laura and I wander around for another 45 minutes or so. We look at a very old, functional sundial, pet the llamas, and intermittently run into our trail friends. It feels strange to see them in public.

Around lunchtime, we hop on the bus to Aguas Calientes, where the group will have a final lunch together. The seats on the bus are the most comfortable seats, ever. I immediately fall asleep and pray that we never make it to Aguas Calientes. Of course, we are there in a mere 30 minutes.

We quickly find the designated lunch restaurant and sit at a long table. I order a small cheese pizza and Sprite. Raul gives each member of the group a certificate and a hug.

After lunch, Laura and I are faced with an important decision – (A) spend the afternoon in Aguas Calientes and take the chartered bus back or (B) utilize public transit and get back a few hours earlier. I have some anxiety about Peruvian public transit, but it is ultimately overcome by an intense desire to get back to the hotel. 

Getting a train to Ollantaytambo is a piece of cake. The train is wonderful and I drift off to sleep again. Eventually, we end up in Ollytaytamba. It is after dark and we really have no plan to get from here to Cusco. Luckily, Laura, who is better at this than me, has befriended a fellow traveler and convinced him to let us tag along. As we all exit the train, Laura follows him, and I follow Laura. We end up in a dark parking lot. A cab driver is yelling at me to put my bag somewhere and my body somewhere else. I don’t really understand, but our new train friend translates. Eventually, I sit down in the cab/van and try to relax. We are on the last leg of our journey back to Cusco.

At this point, my stomach is really starting to cramp up again. I am getting waves of pain coupled with hot flashes every few minutes. The cabbie’s driving abilities are not helping and right when we can start to see the lights of Cusco, we are stopped on a one-lane street due to a car accident. No one is clearing the road. I mentally prepare to be here all night.

After some amount of time, the van starts moving again and, eventually, we end up in the town square at Cusco. I feel like death.

In a total daze, I follow Laura around a few corners and up a hill and somehow end up at our hotel. It is late and we have to ring the doorbell.

One of the staff lets us in and shows us to the storage room where our bags are stored on the top shelf. We get them down and trudge up a flight of steps to our room for the evening. We have an early flight in the morning and still need to pack and shower. While Laura goes to the hotel café to order wine for dinner I take a shower but try to be quick because the water is already not very hot. I somehow get all of my belongings in order and lay down for 5 hours of badly needed sleep.

Manners

Thursday August 28th, 2014.

Inca Trail, Peru

At 4:30am I am awakened by Mom and hot coffee. I feel very nauseous but accept and drink the coffee out of habit. I am moving very slow, but eventually, get up and shuffle over to the breakfast tent with Laura. We are served a cup of watery quinoa. Plates are being passed down the table consisting of one pancake and two pieces of shriveled sausage. I ask for a plate without sausage but Raul says no. I am exhausted and officially sick. I take the breakfast plate and try real hard not to puke on it. One of my trail friends takes my sausage and I slowly chew pieces of the pancake which turn into little balls of salvia and carbs. I have to drink water in order to swallow and only make it through one-third of a pancake. 

After breakfast, the group gathers near the entrance of the campsite. I suddenly realize that Laura and I have not spoken to each other all morning. She looks how I feel. Laura announces that she feels sick. I can only nod in agreement.

The day starts with a sufficient hill. It’s not vertical (like yesterday’s), so the guides call it Inca-flat. I am not amused. 

About 30 minutes into the day, I stop at the side of the trail to let some porters pass by. They smell pretty bad and Laura loses it, and by “it” I mean her breakfast. She pukes several times on the side of the path. I want to help but I am fighting a strong gag reflex. A few trail friends help Laura by providing her with water and some electrolytes. Wordlessly, we continue up the hill.

For the rest of the morning, we visit a few pre-Incan ruin sites. I spend the entire time trying to will myself to be less sick. The trail is beautiful, but I can barely keep it together. If I were at home, I would call into work, wear pajamas all day and have grape-flavored Gatorade delivered to my door.  

After a morning of hiking, we finally arrive at the lunch site. I feel hungry and know that I need some calories. I optimistically plop down in the center of the table in our lunch tent. Lunch is served and Laura is out of the tent within seconds. I want to run out too, but my dumb manners have me glued to my chair. After staring at my plate for nearly five minutes, I finally have to leave. I am simultaneously very hungry and very sick.   

Laura and I sit on a hill overlooking the bathroom. We are both too weak and too hungry to move to a better spot. We sit in silence, despondently gazing at the Peruvian toilet house. It doesn’t take long before Mom and Dad come to check on us. I try to convince them that I am very grateful for the food but just need to sit this one out. I try to manage a fake smile, hoping that in Spanish it will translate into a real smile. No such luck, Dad decides that he is going to be helpful.

First, he brings us tea that tastes like dirt and socks. I sit and quietly drink the tea. It is terrible. Next Raul begins to rub his hands in a substance that he has retrieved from his bag. I think it may be soap, though deep down inside I know that it’s not. He tells me to breathe deeply and then, with no warning whatsoever, he shoves his hands around my face and demands that I keep breathing. Okay. I breathe. His hands smell like a menthol cough drop, mixed with sweat. I am still stunned when he removes them and asks if I’m better. For a split second I sit like a deer-in-headlights before I reply, “Yes”, Much better.”

Raul finally placated, turns to Laura. 

I watch my friend relive my experience and find a tiny resemblance of joy deep in my soul. I am so incredibly miserable, but still, I know that this moment in time can never be relived. 

Finally, lunch is over and we are back on the trail. I am starving but completely averse to food. It is a very strange feeling, to have my stomach scream for food but my mouth refuses it. I have no choice but to focus on moving forward. 

At this point, it really hits me that the only way to get off of this trail is to walk to the end. The Inca trail has no evacuation routes, no clinics, and no doctors. Furthermore, the porters have our tent, so there is no sleeping until we get to the campsite. Even if I was 10 times sicker, I would still have to walk to the end of the trail.

5 minutes after coming to terms with my situation, a group of porters trots past, carrying one of our trail friends on a stretcher. It turns out there is one other way to get off of this trail. Next, I see her worried husband walking quickly, trying to keep up with the porters. “She’ll be fine.” He flashes an obviously fake smile.

Determined to not be carried to the end, I decide to put together a plan. I dedicate all of my energy to putting one foot in front of the other and use all available mental strength to visualize success. I would like to have a meltdown, but know that I do not have the energy to spare.

By early evening Laura and I are officially at the back of the group. There are only a few porters behind us. They are obligated to stay at the back of the group. I guess they are there to prevent us from laying down and going to sleep in the middle of the trail. They are rushing us as it quickly becomes dark outside. 

Just after dark, we finally enter camp. Dad points out a tent and mumbles that a porter will bring our bags. I crawl into the tent, sit on the cold ground and begin to pray that the porter will actually bring my bag. I cannot get up and go look for it in the dark and do not want to call for anyone.

Eventually, my bag is brought to the tent. Without moving my legs, I somehow pull my sleeping pad and sleeping bag out and wiggle into it. I have to pee horrendously but need to sleep more. I take a calculated risk and go to sleep.  

An hour or so later, Dad tries to convince me to go to dinner, but I cannot. Later he insists that I attend the tipping ceremony for the porters. Laura, a saint of saints, takes my money and attends on my behalf.

I do not move until the next morning. Finally, I am asleep.  

Slow and steady wins the race.

Thursday August 28th, 2014

Inca Trail, Peru

It’s 4:45am Central Time. Darwin, aka Mom, is knocking on our tent door. He comes bearing hot coffee. I already love him. 

As it was explained during last night’s trail briefing, Day 2 is the hardest day by a landslide. It is almost entirely uphill with a very steep descent at the end. The group will start at 9800 feet, summit at 14000 feet, and descend to 12,000 feet. It’s not a long hike, but it is steep. Most of the trail will take place on original Inca stairs; they will be historical, magical, beautiful, wobbly, slippery, and uneven. I know that I’m in for a challenge.

The first half of the day is 2 big uphill pushes. The air is thin and I am tired. Laura and I pace ourselves and come up with a plan that involves moving at a very slow pace but only stopping every 15 minutes for a quick sip of water. This methodology gets us to the first checkpoint near the front of the pack. I can’t believe we are not the slowest ones! This is going so much better than I thought. The next big push is similar in length but definitely steeper. We continue with the plan of moving really slow and get to the lunch site in the middle of the pack. Lunch is slightly delayed, but I am feeling happy and chat enthusiastically with my new trail friends.

After lunch, we have one more uphill push to the summit of Warmiwanuska, which is also known as Dead Woman’s pass. This will be the highest point on the trail and the farthest above sea level that I’ve ever been. I am ready to make this happen. Well, my brain is ready, my legs and lungs are not so keen.

I start to drag on this part of the trail. The altitude finally hits me. This is what I was afraid of. Over the course of nearly 500 feet, the entire group passes us by. We are taking each step extremely slowly and only 20 paces from the top I have to stop. I want to push forward but physically can not. Laura waits with me. I start to tear up because she is so nice. It takes almost 10 minutes for the two of us to make it to the top. 

Once we arrive, it’s extremely windy and foggy. I want to rest, but it’s very uncomfortable, plus I am starting to worry about time, we still need to descend 2000 feet before dinner and I can barely breathe or move my legs. 

This side of the mountain has drastically different conditions. The fog continues and a light rain coats the large rocks, which act as steps. I am extremely grateful for my hiking poles and have no idea how anyone could navigate these slippery rocks without them. Even though I am feeling the constant stress of slipping, I’m still relieved to no longer be hiking uphill. Laura is struggling though. Her knees hurt and she is moving slow. I guess that one woman’s downhill is another’s uphill. 

We arrive at the campsite about half an hour before tea time. We are not at the end of the pack but have definitely lost momentum. We rest briefly and then decide to pull it together for tea and popcorn. I really don’t want to go, but the guides are calling us and I’m not sure how to say no. Once we sit down with the rest of our trail mates, we learn that at least half of them slipped and fell at some point during the descent. I enjoy the commiseration of the group. 

At dinner, I am totally exhausted and have no appetite at all. I take one serving of everything and methodically chew and swallow it all bite by bite. It feels like work as I give myself a miniature pep talk for each bite. 

When I finally lay down to go to sleep, all of my muscles are screaming for relief. I can not get comfortable and lay awake for most of the night.