South American Swine Flu - Day 7

Before we head to the airport, we make a trip to our new found favorite eatery in Cusco, Jacks.The great Peruvian gringo restaurant smack dab in the middle of Cusco. My first day in the city I ordered up a plate of French toast to help settle my stomach thinking I was going to get a little altitude sick. This time I didn’t hold back and ordered up the jumbo burger (I cant remember the real name of it, but it was something to that affect). And it was nothing short of jumbo, topped with all the great American toppings you could think of. Not only was this a gringo place, but it was straight hippy. I still cant decided if my burger was real beef or not, hell it may have even been dog, but it was nothing like a fat juicy America burger from George’s. None the less, it was delightful. After we eat we take one more stroll through the city and markets before we head back to the hotel, pack our stuff and catch a cab.

Before long we find ourselves outside our hotel flagging down one of the mini cabs to take us off to the lovely Cusco airport. We part ways with our wondering trekking companion, Hutto, and leave him to explore more parts of South America. We all wish we could stay a few more days or weeks and see more of this beautiful country, but a working society awaits us. Depression starts to set in. The only talking that occurs in the cab are the relentless efforts to get the cab driver to accept 15 Soles instead of 20 for the ride. A total savings of about .30 cents each. I learned a lot about the art of bargaining while in Cusco, it’s a shame I cant put it to use in America. Unless I am bargaining for something of little to no value, like who will drive home from the bar (talking myself out of driving of course).

We arrive at the Cusco airport and don’t wait long before we are boarding our LANAir plane toLima. A short 1 hour flight back to the capital city. As cramped as the coach seating was on this flight, I was more comfortable there then I had been in 7 days. Sitting upright in a nice cushiony seat, listening to widespread with cold air blowing on my face. I am trying to take advantage of it before the long layover.

We arrive at Lime International around 5pm and have a nice 7 hour layover before our 12:10am red eye back to hotlanta. I envision myself sleeping on that dreaded marble floor in the miniature food court again, but its too early for that right now. We grab a table and wait. If there is one thing I hate doing, it is waiting. 10 minutes pass by and I am already getting anxious and looking for something to do. We contemplate passing the time at the bar, but opt out as we are all running out of extra cash. The next best thing? People watching. Justin and I begin noticing about 1 out of every 10 people walking by are wearing some sort of mask over their face. Swine Flu is starting to scare everyone stupid. But after watching all these people, we start to get a little cautious ourselves and even begin to feel a little woozy. Its all in our heads of course, and I determine this feeling is because I am hungry. So I waddle over to the Peruvian McDonalds and order up a nice double quarter pounder and large fry. Now, I haven’t had McDonalds in a long time so I am really looking forward to slowing down my heart rate for the rest of the day.

Its not long after we eat that Justin begins to feel a little sick. He thinks he may be catching a cold so he goes to the in-airport drug store and buys the South American knock off of Air-Borne.He offers up one, so I take. A little extra vitamins in my system after this trip couldn’t hurt, right? Its not long after taking the “airborne” that I begin to feel a little nauseous myself. Its coming up on 9pm and it is almost time for us to get our tickets, so we make our way down to the Delta kiosk and stand in line. I begin to feel incredibly weak, so I throw my bag on the floor and lay down for a few minutes and try to mentally fight off this wave of nausea. It seems to work for a few minutes while we converse with some fellow travelers I met on my way down to SA just 7 days ago. But it quickly comes back and hits me like a ton of bricks. I don’t know what I should do at this point. Should I jump out of line and go take care of business in the bathroom? Or tough it out, get my ticket and try and sleep it off in the terminal. I chose the latter. I quickly realize my mistake when I make it to the customs line. There are a good solid 500 people in front of me with only 2 ass clowns checking passports and bags. My worst nightmare. Standing in a small room, people shoulder to shoulder, and it is hotter then hell. I continue to tough it out, but it gets harder and harder. I start thinking about Swine Flu. Do I have it? How will this crowd react if I just lose it right her on the floor? My first though? Everyone will run out of the room like they are trying to avoid the bubonic plague and I will be standing alone at the front of the line showing my passport. But I decide to save some face and hold back. I thought about jumping out of line and going to the bathroom, but the thought of having to go back to the end of the ever growing line was just not something I was willing to do.

After about 30 minutes of waiting in line, I have made it to the customs counter. I couldn’t help but think about Swine Flu while I was standing in line, and I have managed to build up this inner fear that I was slowly dying. I start to think everyone around me knows I have swine flu and there is someone waiting on the other side to detain me (my mind does weird things when I am delirious). Even the customs guy is looking at me funny. It was probably all in my head, or maybe it was because I was ghost white. As soon as I get my passport stamped I make a mad dash for the restroom, find the back stall, and being to feel better (for lack of a better word). I try and do so in a quite manor for fear of peoples reaction to someone yakking in the bathroom of an airport, but remember I had a double quarter pounder and large fry….lovely, uh?

I immediately feel better, clean myself up and make my way to terminal 23. Im delighted to see that the terminal is fairly empty so I head to the back and lay down to try and catch some shuteye. At this point is it about 10:45. Not 10 minutes pass by and I am back in the bathroom.Now I really start to worry. Do I really want to board a plane while I am uncontrollably sick? Or do I really want to try and change my flight plans, wonder into the streets of Peru and try and check into a local hotel? I make about 3 more trips to the bathroom before making my decision to board the plane. Flying coach is uncomfortable enough. Try to do it on a red eye flight with a pilled out hippy chick constantly passing out in your lap, a 6 foot 6 New York guido behind you kneeing your chair, no constant flow of cold air, all while getting up to get sick every 45 minutes just like clock work. It literally got to the point where I could look at my watch and say, “ok, I am going to have to get up in 5 minutes to throw up so I should probably start trying to wake up this chick now…” No one has ever actually been to hell and back….except me. I am the only one on earth who has visited the fairly depths of hell and come back to tell about it.

Our flight was about 6 hours and 45 minutes from the time we take off in Lima to the time we land in Atlanta. At about the 6 hour point I begin to feel a bit better. I eat a little bit of my breakfast muffin (I missed the eggs and hash browns because of my 5:15 appointment in the lavatory) and was able to hold it down without incident. This delights me. Hippy chick wakes up and we chit chat for a bit. I come to find out she was in Peru doing some volunteer work at a “troubled kids” shelter in the middle of the Jungle. She shows me pictures and videos, all with a huge smile on her face, and as odd as it is, that short talk with her completely cheered me up. We finally land in Atlanta and I couldn’t be more ready to get off the plane. But, just as my luck has always been, the passenger terminal that attaches to the plane is broken and we have to wait.We wait about 45 minutes before the pilot determines we need to go to another terminal. Now normally my blood would be boiling at this moment, but instead of getting a hot head, I turn to the hippy chick and continue conversation. Here we are talking about our lives when all of a sudden she bursts out “oh shit!” She has forgotten about her connecting flight to Birminghamthat takes off in 45 minutes. Poor hippy. I tell her she will make it if she runs her ass off to customs so she can be first in line. The flight attendants are nice enough to let everyone who has a connecting flight off first, so this gives her a head start. I swear she gets off the plane a good 10 minutes before I do. But she must have gotten lost somewhere along that long hallway in the international wing on the way to the main hub of arrivals. Don’t know how because there is nowhere to go but straight for about half a mile. Maybe she got turned around by the lone ficus tree by the bathrooms, or got confused by the “flat” escalator, but as I stand in line for customs I see her run in out of no where. How the hell did I get to customs before her? Hippies. I still wonder if she made her flight on time.

I finally meet up with the rest of my mates outside customs and we head for the trains to take us to baggage claim (they sat first class and thus got off the plane before I did). They ask me how my flight was, and I just give them the evil eye. This is when Justin tells me he was getting sick the entire flight also. That’s it! I now know what made us sick! Well, I think I do. I think it was that cheap ass Peruvian knock off of Airborne! We were the only ones who took it, and the only ones who got sick. Gotta be the fake airborne.

We quietly make our way to baggage as we are all upset the journey has actually come to an end.It feels good to be back in the good ol’ US of A, but at the same time I am disappointed the trip is over. I wish I stayed a little while longer and explored a little more. This is where “The List” got started. The top ten places I want to visit before I die. It has since grown to 20.

Drivin' That Train....to nowhere - Day 6

As we turn our backs on the "Lost City" of the Incas we start to realize our journey is over. Before we can even let it all sink in, we are on a bus taking us rapidly down the mountain. The bus driver is once again driving like a bat out of hell. Its almost as if something mysterious happens on top of that mountain and he is rushing us to the bottom so we don’t witness it. Or maybe he just wants to go home to his wife and kids. Or to a bar, who knows. Next stop, Aguas Calinentas where we will catch a 5:00 train back to Cusco. – Side note: I didn’t take a lot of pictures after Machu Picchu, so the rest of the blog will mostly be story time....

Before we catch our train, we have a little down time in "Hot Water,” so naturally we grab a bite to eat...and of course indulge in some celebratory beers. We all share our favorite moments on the trail, and some of the more seasoned traveler’s compare it to other trips they have been on. They are all in agreement that this was among their top 2 trips. Steve ranked it as his favorite while Nick and Beck place it in a close second behind the South African safari they went on a few months back. Nick and Beck are coming up on their 11 month away from home. It’s hard to imagine being away from friends and family for that long, but they seem so content, so at home traveling the world living out of a backpack. This is rather inspiring to me and I quickly decided that at least once in my life I am going to experience something like that. Maybe not as long as them because in our society you cant just take off for 10 months and expect to come back to a job. But one day I will do it, and when the time is right I will know.

After we eat, we part ways with Nick and Beck as their train departs at 3:00. I really enjoyed their company and learned a lot of things about their cultures that I will take with me back to the states. The rest of the group spreads out and does our own things for the remaining 2 hours. Steve and I head to an internet cafe and jump on a computer with "high speed" internet. This is where I learn about Swine Flu. I had heard about it before I left the states, but didn’t pay much attention to it. We start to fear that we may have a hard time getting back into the states without being detained and held for examination. I continue internet surfing, checking my email, and of course facebook. As I am reading my facebook messages I hear something poking around under my chair. Of all things, its a freaking chicken. Now, you have to picture this place. It’s not like your normal little town where everything is inside behind closed doors. Its almost like we are in a big market. Only curtains shield the inside of these stores from the natures of the Peruvian jungle. Unless you’re a "wealthy" store, then you have the luxury of a wooden sliding door, or better yet glass!. Now, my brain doesn’t process the fact that swine flu and bird flu are two different things at first, so my instinct reaction pushes me away from the computer and away from this disease ridden bird. Still, after reading about Swine Flu, I don’t want to take any chances. I sit there for a second and let the chicken do its thing. I figured it would peck around a few times and be on its way. Not this guy, he has found something in my pack. My last granola bar, and ill be damned if I let him have it. This is when I wish Jason was with my so he could kill it in a "PETA certified” way, but instead I just kick it out the door/curtain and it goes clucking along its merry way. I half expected some Peruvian restaurant owner to come yelling at me for abusing his live stock, but no one seemed to care. It must have been a homeless chicken. If you’re a chicken, homeless is better then live stock I guess, but I doubt he knew that.

I leave the internet cafe and head toward the train station, stopping in a local market to try and pick up some last minute souvenirs. Every market vender is selling the same worthless crap. Fake Alpaca blankets, hats, sweaters, coco candy, T-Shirts (after 1 wash I now have a belly shirt, and its for sale if anyone wants it), smoking accessories, bracelets. Again, none of this appeals me, so I leave and head to the train station where I meet up with the rest of the crew. 5:00 is rolling up on us fast and we are all ready to get on the train and try and take a short nap. But less we forget we are in Peru and nothing is on time. We wait a good hour before the train even arrives. Then the trouble starts.

We are on a "backpackers" train. This is basically a trolley car with old crickety benches screwed down to the floor. They pack us in there tight. And to make it comical, they situate it like most trains where we have to all sit facing each other. I’m in a leg lock with a dirty 22 year old hippy chick from England who just spent 10 days on the trail. Needless to say, it wasn’t pleasant. Here we sit, in an intimate position waiting for the train to start moving. no A/C, no lights, no movement. It gets hot in there real fast, everyone smells like hot garbage at this point. The sun begins to go down, and it’s starting to get dark in the train. This is where we learn that our engine has broke down and we have to wait on another one. But the one we are waiting on is having problems of its own. "10 minutes" the train instructor tells us. 10 minutes becomes an hour and a half. And just to mock us, an empty Orient Express train pulls into station right next to us, just glowing with its leather seats, mahogany molding, crystal Champaign glasses, and LIGHTS! Finally the half busted engine car arrives and we lock up to it and begin to roll out. Not 100 yards out of the train station does the thing stall on us. Granted, it starts right back up, but this is rather troubling. Its approaching 7:00, we still have a 2 hour train ride ahead of us, and we plan on partying back in Cusco. The damn train stalls out about every 15 minutes along the way. One time for about 30 minutes in the middle of the Peruvian Jungle. We begin to wonder is this thing is even going to make it to Cusco. At least we are all prepared to camp out again if we need to! But finally, the thing finds another cylinder or something and makes it the last hour without incident. It doesn’t go over 15 miles an hour, but at least we are moving at a constant rate.

Its 11:00 by the time we make it to Cusco (it’s really a small town outside of Cusco, but I cant remember the name of it) where we have a van waiting to pick us up and take us back to the hotel. It has never felt better to sit in a seat that has cushions. By this point I was so tired from the last 5 days that the van ride is just a blur to me. We make it back to the Hotel where we find our room just the way we left it. We all take long hot showers and head out to the bars. First stop, a nice gringo bar where we play darts and relive our trip. Hutto, Justin and I were kicking ass until Greg lands a bulls-eye to seal the deal from 10 feet behind the line. I argue it doesn’t count, but to no avail. We were out of beer and ready to hit another watering hole. I prefer another laid back dive bar, but some how we get swooned into a Cusco discteca. It was rather first class the way we got into this dump. We were just walking through Cusco's main square when we are all of a sudden surrounded by Peruvians begging for the chance that we grace their night club with our presence. Promises of free drinks and many beautiful women is what grabs our attention, so we follow some kid into his night club. Once we are in I turn to him to ask him about these free drinks, but he is no where to be found. Bastard. He probably wasn’t a day over 13 either. We got shunned by a pre-teen Peruvian punk. Whatever, we were in so we decided to stay and check it out. This place was pretty amazing....I will try to paint a picture for you….Carrollton’s TC Rose in Panama City in early April full of 16 years olds. That’s where we were. It’s like high school spring break, people! I have no idea where these kids came from. Not once on my trip did I see anyone that looked younger then I was, but here we were at a discoteca full of high school kids. At least they looked to be high school kids. I didn’t want to take my chances. We did a "frat lap," as Hurme called it, to check the place out. It didn’t take long to come to the conclusion we should leave. Not without another drink though. We all throw one back and headed home. We didn’t realize it until we left, but it was a little over 2am. All of a sudden I was dog tired. I couldn’t wait to get into my bed. Tomorrow we head out for our long layover filled journey back to the states.

The Lost City of the Incas - Day 5

Sleep = Awesome. I slept better then a man in a coma and that is no lie, but 4am came fast and with the furry. It was odd and inconvenient to wake up to the sound of an alarm clock. Where were our Sherpa’s with hot coca tea? For those few seconds between the time the alarm wakes you up and you gather yourself to consciousness, I thought I was back home waking up for another miserable day in a cube. But I soon realized reality. Today was the day we had been waiting for. We hiked nearly 60 miles to see this lost city and we couldn’t be more excited. We quickly took showers (again, odd) and met at a local restaurant where we were served another 4 course breakfast. Super pressed for time, we had to slam the food into our faces and rush out the door to get a good spot in line at the bus station - we had busses take us from Aguas Calinentas to the top of Mt. Picchu....weak I know, but by now we deserved it. Its 4:45am and we are excited to catch the first bus to the top....until we turn the corner. There were already probably 300 people in line. This bothers me. #1 because we may as well have enjoyed our breakfast and #2 because I now realize we are going to spend the day with a thousand other tourists. What has been so nice about this trip is the extreme solitude we had all experienced on the trail. We got to share time with people who share our interests while enjoying the "escape" from civilization. But, at the same time this is the new "seventh wonder of the world" so I guess I should have expected a crowd.

We finally get on a bus and it takes us up a narrow, windy, steep road. And it takes us up fast. Way too fast for comfort. I spend most of my time looking out the window at the magnificent scenery while wondering how many busses have fallen off these cliffs. I instinctly find myself inching away from the window. We reach the top in no time and get in another line to get into Machu Picchu. Now, we were told we could bring backpacks with us to carry some food, water, and rain gear. My day pack is cutting it close with the size requirements, so I tighten all the straps as tight as they could to make the bag look smaller. My trekking companion, Steve, has the same size bag as me and does the same thing. We decide to walk in together so it doesn’t look like we have larger bags then the rest of the group. Now, I don’t know what it is about me, or my bag, but the bastard checking our tickets wouldn’t let me in! Said I had to go to the "bag check" at the front of the building and leave my pack there. This pisses me off, but I don’t put up a fight because I don’t want to get banned from Machu Picchu. As I turn to Steve to say "alright, lets go put our bags in storage and get back as fast as we can" I see him walking through the gate, backpack in toe. WHAT? Steve must have gave him a wink, or slipped him a sole or something. How the hell did he get in and I didn’t? So off I go to check my bag - which contains all my food and water. 7 hours without food will make me a little cranky. I strap on my rain gear, check my bag, and rush back to the line and give the ticket guy an eat shit look. MF'er.



All my built up anger and emotion blows away in the wind as soon as I step foot on Machu Picchu. Words cant even describe how beautiful and surreal this place is when you see it in person. Pictures do not do it justice at all. I was immediately amazed at how big Machu Picchu was. We come in from the south side where most of the agriculture stacks are. Our first destination is clear across on the north side to Waynapichu so we can get a climbing stamp. They only let 400 people on this mountain and I soon learn why. While in line it begins to rain, which is a daily occurrence at Machu Picchu especially in the morning hours. Im glad i grabbed my rain gear! We get our ticket stamped for the 10am climb. For the next 2 hours Hubert takes us on a mini tour of the ruins, explaining its history in detail to us. You can tell he loves what he does as he passionately talks about the ruins and many theories that surround Machu Picchu and the Inca's who inhabited it. What is so great about this place is the lack of history that has been discovered here. When the Incas left (if that's what they did) they didn't leave any kind of evidence that scientists can really use to learn about this site. It isn't even really know what it was built for! most think it was a city build to hide the "upper class" of the Inca's, which makes sense because it is so remote and so hard to access. Others believe it may have been used as a sacrificial prison. What they do know is that is was only inhabited for around 100 years. Why it was abandoned is another mystery. Some scientists think the Inca's were wiped out by smallpox (smallpox killed thousands of South Americans in the 14th century) while others believe they may have been chased out by the Spanish Conquistadors. Either way, what is so amazing to me is that nothing of significant importance was left behind. Because of this, we may never really know what was going on up there. Hell, we can learn all about Dinosaurs that roamed the earth millions of years ago but we cant learn much about a civilization that lived less then 600 years ago. My theory? I think they abandoned the site as soon as they got wind the Spanish were coming. They Took everything with them and headed to the hills where they all died of some disease. You watch, we will soon find them out there in the Ande's holding on to some fine pieces of Inca treasure. I'm the first to say it right here on this blog. I could go on for hours about the stuff i learned, but i wont give you a history lesson. But i highly recommend reading up on it, it is very interesting stuff.

10:00 comes and We head to Waynapichu for the climb. I have to admit, i am a little nervous about this. When Hubert declines an offer to join us because it is "too dangerous" we know we are in for some trouble. He hikes for a living for Christ's sake. And to make it even more interesting, i am not good with heights. But off we go. This mug is a big, steep mountain. the first 30 minutes is an exhausting giant stair climb up to about 4/5 of the way to the top. This is where about 70% of the 400 people that came to climb turn around. When you reach the last part of the ascent and see what you have to climb to get to the top, it almost makes you sick to your stomach. Or, at least for me it did. But I wasn't going to be one of those 70% pussys. I came 3,400 miles for this and if i die trying then so be it. (The picture to the right doesn't do it justice. this was just one of the easy parts where you were able to release your claw grip and snag a picture. Seriously, if you slipped at all you had about a 50/50 chance of survival at this point). I took my sweet ass time climbing up to the top. Baby steps isn't even a good enough analogy. Now, as I'm climbing I expect there to be some kind of look out platform at the top for everyone to gather at and enjoy a picturesque view of Machu Picchu. Absolutely not. Its literally a pile of about 5 or 6 boulders perfectly balanced at the point of this devil mountain. Throw 15 people on them at once and you have your self a serious life or death game of twister at 7,000 feet. I finally position myself at the top of one of the rocks and just sit holding tight, clinging my jacket tight so i don't do a Marry Poppins into the wind. Its very windy up there and you honestly feel like you can get blown away (see the death grip i have on the rock?). But there is nothing quite like feeling like you are on top of the world. the view is amazing. 360 degree views of the sacred valley. Truly unbelievable.

We hang out at the top for about 45 minutes, moving about the boulders to get different views of the surroundings, just trying to soak it all in. IT soon starts to rain a little and we decide it might be a good time to head down before the rocks get "slippy". Going down is a lot easier then i expected. Usually that is the hardest/scariest part for me. Maybe it was because i was eager to get down? Or maybe it was the ass hole who behind me who was on my heals the entire way. There is a section of the mountain where you have to crab walk down some Inca stairs. these bastards must have been some tiny people, because these stairs are no more then 5 inches wide. not build for a man with a size 14 shoe. But we make it down successfully and congratulate each other on a climb well done. Well worth the risk. If you ever go to Machu Picchu, make a point to climb Waynapichu. As much as i may have discouraged you, trust me it is worth it. I wish i took more pictures from up there.

As the day comes to a close, we decide to wander around the ruins and visit sections we didn’t get to see on the tour. We probably had about an hour and a half to kill before we had to catch our bus back down to Aguas Calinentas. I honestly don’t remember much after the climb. All I could think about was how the trip was coming to an end while trying to take advantage of every last second. While doing that I must have clogged my brain because the last hour on Machu Picchu was mostly a blur. I do remember Greg, Hutto, and myself making it to the top of the west end where we had incredible views of the ruins. This was the section that had the "post card" views. Again, pictures and post cards do not give Machu Picchu justice. We run into Justin and Steve coming back from their short trek to the Inca Bridge. We were glad to see them and to be able to share the last few minutes together. We had a lot of fun goofing off, taking pictures, enjoying each others company. Spirits were high as we knew the journey was coming to an end, and what a perfect setting we had to finish it off with.



Next stop: Aguas Calinentas to catch our train back to Cusco.....the adventure continues

Oh Yea, Your Going to Die - Day 4

The days seem to come earlier and earlier as sleep becomes harder to come by. I woke up about 45 times last night packing in about 1.5 hours of solid shut eye. The stray dogs around the camp are nervous little bastards. The slightest noise sets them off. And when one starts barking, the entire stray dog civilization starts barking. This goes on until about 4am when the god damn rooster starts crowing about 1 foot from our tent. No lie, he is posted up 1 foot from our tent. I can see his silhouette, mocking me. My tent mate Jason is “PETA Certified” to humanly kill a chicken 2 different ways. I contemplated waking him up to kill it in a non “PETA certified” way. I wanted blood. Soon the chiefs assistant comes to the tent with his morning offerings of coca tea and we begin packing our shit for our final day of trekking.

Spirits at the breakfast table seem to be a little low. Hubert’s mood buster last night still lingers around and it is apparent no one is looking forward to today’s hike. I recall a conversation I had with Hubert a few days back that lightens my mood slightly. At the summit of Salkantay I ask him what day of the trek is his favorite, offering the best views, and with out hesitation he says “day 4.” Im set back for a second. How can anyone say something like that while standing at the summit of the Salkantay Pass. I am eager to find out. We quickly eat breakfast, slam down a cup of coca tea, and trek out leaving the town of La Playa behind us.

Not 20 minutes into the trek, we come to a part where we must cross a river. Last nights rain is causing us problems already. The river is flowing a little faster and fuller then normal, dumping itself over a 50 foot fall just to our left. The odds of us making it across to the other side dry are near impossible, unless we take a certain pass. And that pass happens to be along a group of rocks at the VERY EDGE of the waterfall. So not only are we walking inches from a 50 foot drop, we are doing so over lose, slippery 20-30 pound rocks. Death seems certain for one of us. Or at least a broken back. Of course, we could always just wade a few inches in the water and deal with the wet shoes and socks for the rest of the trek, but we all decide to dance with the devil and take the risky route. Its more fun, and it makes for good action shots. Because I hung back to take pictures, I am the last to cross. If someone falls to their death, I want to make sure I get it on camera. As im crossing and the others are waiting on the other side, I have a flash back to my childhood when I flirted with death. In the neighborhood I grew up in we had a duck pond not far from my house. Every 5 years or so it would freeze over and being the young dumb asses we were, we would walk out in the middle and slide around. My friend Jimmy and I were out there in the middle near a little island (maybe 20-30 feet from the shore) when hear the ice start to crack. Not a good sound. One ass hole (who will remain nameless because we are no longer friends with him) decided it would be funny to throw rocks toward us in an attempt to crack the ice and send us into the frigid water. He wasn’t trying to kill us or anything, he just thought it was funny. We did not find humor in it and thus proceeded to beat him up when we got off the ice. As im making my way over the rocks, I started thinking to myself “wouldn’t that be a bitch if they all started throwing rocks at me as I try and cross this rover of death.” I now associate myself with better friends, so I don’t see that happening.

After a short hike up a hill we reach a fork in the trail. Hubert informs us that this is where the trail gets hard. “The next 2.5 hours is up hill, stay on the trail and don’t stray off even a few feet because snakes like to hang out in the long grass.” Its starting to get warm so we shed some layers. At this point we are actually walking on part of the original Inca Trail. The trail its self is about 10 feet wide, with the classic Inca style boulders build up on either side. It’s hard to imagine people using this trail hundreds of years ago.

The next few hours are grueling as we ascend up at a steady pace. No flat parts here, just straight up. But the views get better and better the higher we get. Again we are walking along the mountains edge, so we have wonderful views at all times. We eventually make our way from the bottom of the river valley, up to cloud level, and soon above cloud level. Before long we reach the summit for the day. It was like a jungle up there. Everything is dripping wet, the trail is mud, and the vegetation is as thick as we have seen it. I figured we would see a lot of wild life – birds, maybe some squirrel like creatures, the Spectacle Bear....we see nothing but a bull. A freaking full grown Bull. If someone would have asked me “did you see any Bull’s on the trail?” I would have thought they were a complete idiot and slapped them. But there it was, about 30 yards away eyeing us down. What the hell do you do here? There is a 2,000 lb bull on the trail. This thing is barely big enough to even fit on the trail, how are we supposed to get around it? Some random guy (kind of weird, this guy was just hanging out up there) picked up a big stick and took off after it. I didn’t think this was going to do anything but get someone killed, but sure enough he scared it off. The Bull had to do an Austin Powers style 8 point turn to turn its self around before it could run off in the other direction, but it finally did. And we carried on. now I am worried that this Bull is waiting in the bushes for us to pass so it can bull rush us (no pun intended). You know the part in Jurassic Park when the gang is walking through the jungle when all of a sudden a Velociraptor peers through the bushes and pounces on someone’s head? I was waiting to see bull horns come charging through the brush. But we escaped death once again.

We reach an open spot on the side of the hill and we come across some ancient ruins believed to be built by the Inca’s. There is not much information about this particular site, but they know it is an Inca site by the way the windows were built in the classic Inca 

style. Only a small section of this village has been reconstructed. 

Hubert takes us through the part that is still in shambles. Its amazing and eerie at the same time to walk through an ancientvillage that has not been touched since the day it was abandoned some 500-600 years ago. Most of the walls had begun to crumble, trees and brush covering most of what is left. The small section that has been

 reconstructed in the clearing consists of 3 small rooms. The middle

 room contains a door with a water channel leading out to the edge of the mountain. From the clearing, we have our first views of Macchu Picchu. We only get a few glimpses as the cloud cover is still looming, but when the clouds lift for

 that brief second, it is a magical view.

The trek down is painful. A steep decline back down to the river valley. I can feel the cartilage in my knees ripping apart with every step I take. The value of my trekking poles increased dramatically here. Despite the pain, the spirits seem to be higher then ever on the way down. Maybe its because we know we are nearing the end of the trek and we can finally take showers and sleep in a bed, or maybe something at that Inca village gave us a boost, a sneak peak at what our day will be like tomorrow at Macchu Picchu.

We finally reach the bottom. The sun is out and it is hot. We cross over to the other side of the valley via a suspension bridge that is about 75 yards long and about 50 feet in the air. On the other side we hike our way down to the river banks and take a break. We spread out across a few large boulders, dangle or feet in the glacier river, and soak up some sun rays…..the best way to relax. This is near the end of our Salkantay journey, only about a 20 minute walk to the town of Hydro Electrica, a small town build around the dam that supplies all the electricity for Cusco. Not much of a town really, just a few market stands and eating places for the trekkers to sit and have their chiefs prepare their last meal. After lunch (late lunch – 2:30pm) we take a short train ride to the town of Aguas Calinentas.

Back in civilization for the first time in 4 days. Here we get to do the normal things in life; use the internet, check in with loves ones, use a real bathroom, have a chicken try and steal your last cookie from your bag at an internet café…..sleep in a BED with a real pillow under our heads! We check in to our hostel (which is more like a hotel), take a shower, and head to dinner at a local restaurant. Here we enjoy each others company, indulge in a few beers, and recap stories from the last few days. I cant wait to lay my head down and sleep for once. Tomorrow: Macchu Picchu.

Welcome to the Jungle - Day 3

Day 3 starts early again. I didn't sleep well at all. Not sure why, you would think after hiking 12 miles over 11 hours and 4,000 feet of elevation change i would have slept like a baby on Nyquil. Maybe it was stuffsack makeshift pillow I was using, of the freaking rooster that decided to start crowing at 3am. Either way, I was going on about 2 hours of sleep. Coca tea to the rescue. We trek out around 7:30 and head for the heart of the valley where 2 rivers join and will eventually make their way to the amazon. I believe the name of the river is the Santa Teresa....but I could be mistaken. We follow this river all day eventually leading us to a little town called La Playa.

I have to admit, I was a little bumbed when I fund out we would be hiking in jungle like conditions. Jungle = hot, humid, muddy, lots of vegetation, and at the time that just didn't appeal to me. I wanted to be back out in the open surrounded by snow capped mountains that seemed to reach the heavens. But as we made our way, I began to really enjoy it. We trek for about an hour toward the bottom of the valley to some local hot springs. We take advantage and soak our body's for the first time in 3 days. Maybe not the cleanest water, but it felt so damn good. The hot springs are actually little man made stone pools, but they are fed by hot spring water pumped from the ground about 30 yards away. The pools were build on a ledge right where the 2 rivers join.

As we continue on, everything gets noticeably greener. The vegetation becomes very thick and lush, and the flowers become larger and more colorful. We saw many different kinds of orchids, Hubert pointing them out to us nearly ever time we came across one. Some small, some large, one named the "dancing lady" because it looked like....well, a dancing lady, and another that made you hallucinate if you ate it. As tempting as it was, we didn't try it. Something about hiking on a mountain ridge while tripping nuts didn't appeal to anyone. And when I say we were walking along a mountain ridge, I mean we were really on a ridge. At times the trail may have only been 2 feet wide. One wrong step and you fall thousands of feet. What makes it really unsettling is the number of avalanches you can see on the side of the mountains due to erosion. We were about half way through the days hike when we come up on a waterfall. We have to almost go under the waterfall to get around it and continue on. After we cross it, Hubert says " there must have been an avalanche here last week because the trail was gone." Oh, well that's good to know! None the less, being on the mountain ridge made for breath taking views.

We reach the town of La Playa around 3:30. Today is our shortest hike of the trip. This town reminds me of something you would see in National Geographic. The houses (or huts) are very small, and most seem to have no electricity. The population here is probably around 200, and their largest source of income is no doubt the trekkers who come through there. We reach our camp site and it is in the middle of what i would call the "town market." Our tents are set up between the bathroom with a "warm shower" and a store that sells backpacking supplies and beer. We take advantage of the beer situation. I get into an intense game of chess with Hubert after dinner. I haven't played chess in probably 15 years when I would often play with my grandfather when he was in town. I felt like I was really good at the time, but I now realize that he would just let me win because in no way would I be able to out smart my grandfather at this game. But I was able to out smart Hubert. Actually, he just made a dumb move and I pounced on it. We continue to take advantage of the cheap beer well into the night (like 9:30). Every one is in an excellent mood, exchanging stories, sharing interests and local hobbies when Hubert drops the bomb on us. "Guys, tomorrows hike may be just as hard as yesterdays. We climb for 4 hours straight." The mood turns somber and we immediately regret the last 4 big beers we split. We decide to pack it in and prepare for tomorrow.

Salkantay Pass - Day 2 Part 2

We sat for a long time at the summit, enjoying the sights, congratulating each other, chit-chatting on what was waiting for us on the northwest side of Salkantay. It was hard to leave the perch i found myself sitting in. How can you just get up and turn your back on the most beautiful setting you have ever laid your eyes on knowing you will never be back to see it again? Well the time has come. "Ok guys, lets go, lets go" says Hubert, his patented "get off your lazy asses and lets go" quote. "No more chilling" he adds, trying to pick up the gringo slang. We slowly gather our packs and equipment and gather at the back end of the summit. As we begin the trek down the other side of the mountain we see that the clouds are rolling in. The first day and first half of the second day of our trek were spent on the west side of the Ande's, or the ocean side as the locals refer to it. The air here is constantly moving so cloud cover is usually non existent and it is often fairly dry when it is not the rainy season. The other side of the pass is another story. We are entering the sub tropic region of the Peruvian mountains. The environment is almost that of a rain forest. Clouds get stuck on the eastern side of the Andes as they can not pass over the high point of the mountains, thus creating the subtropic like atmosphere.

We start the decent high in the clouds. Visibility is only a few hundred yards at times, but the sights are still amazing. Our decent is slow and gradual, a complete opposite of what we just went through. One one side of the pass we climb just under 4,000 feet in a little over an hour. Our way down seems almost flat as we will descend 2,000 feet over the next 6 hours. We make our way down via a valley pass where glacier melt collects from hundreds off different runoffs on both sides of the valley. Waterfalls are everywhere, all rushing to the center of the valley where the glacier river races down the mountain, getting bigger and faster the further we descend. The cold air we experienced at the summit quickly turns into a humid heat. The further we get down the valley, the wetter the conditions get. Its not raining, and it probably has not rained all day, but you would have thought it had poured.

After about an hour and a half of descent we reach a flat part of the valley. I know we ha vent reached the bottom because there is NO way we just descended 7,000 feet. The river that was once rushing through the valley has now slowed down to an "upper Chattahoochee" roll, spreading its self out across the valley, creating a number of different streams cutting through the valley field. It reminds me of a scene from Alaska (that i have seen on TV) where a river has hundreds of "threads" cutting through a large field. Geography class taught me that once a river reaches its flat point it tends to spread and die out, soaking into the soil. (its amazing all the stuff i remember from Geography and Geology class, but how little i remember from my finance classes). We hike about another 30 minutes and we reach another descent. A drop off really. The river quickly rejoins and creates another powerful flow cutting a deep trench in the valley. Before we descend, we break to have lunch (FINALLY!!)

After lunch we begin the trek down. Another 3 hours and we will be at camp 2. Our descent from here is quite different. We are surrounded by lush vegetation and the sounds of animals (we haven't heard an animal the entire trip other then the horses and stray dogs). It is almost like we are in a rain forest. Come to think of it, we kind of are. Everything is wet. The trail has changed from dirt and lose rock to mud. Bugs are everywhere. God damn, the bugs are everywhere. And they are big and bad. Its almost like Atlanta in the dead of summer, but the bugs are three times the size and much more fierce. A mosquito bit in Atlanta is really no big deal. Here they welt up the size of a half dollar and itch like a sun of a bitch. Oh yea, and they can give you yellow fever. But the sights and sounds are amazing non the less.

We finally reach camp at the base of the mountain. Our camp is set up in a valley of three large mountains just north of three rivers joining to flow together toward the mighty Amazon. Tonight's camp is in a villagers yard....Is that what you call it? His land I guess is a better word. Its hard to imagine someone living so far from civilization, so far from a town that sold the bare necessities. But here we are. Hell, this dude even had working plumbing, although we think it works on strictly gravity and empties its self in the river below. where the hell else is it going to flow to? Tisk Tisk. We enjoy a great dinner prepared by our chef and indulge in some warm cervezas sold to us by the local land lord. After dinner he even builds us a little camp fire and for a moment we all almost felt like we were at home. Many stories were told around this small twig fire. Some funny, some embarrassing, most completely inappropriate, but all worth sharing. There is nothing like enjoying a few beers around a camp fire. It sets you in the euphoric state of mind where you have no care in the world. Beer, fire, friends. One of the best trifectas ever created.

Salkantay Pass - Day 2

Day 2 starts at the ass crack of dawn. Actually you cant even see dawns crack yet, but it will be showing soon. Its early, 5am. We are woken up by the assistant chef's offering of hot coca tea or coffee. I don't get that kind of service at the apartment i pay way to much for. Or frankly at any place i have ever STAYED before. Only under Gods roof surrounded by picturesque scenery could you receive this kind of service. After a mug of coca tea (coca as in the leaf of drug in which the Motley Crue song "kick start my heart" was written about) we are all quick to our feet, packed up and ready to eat a hefty breakfast. The usual, pan, Jam, Granola, fruit, eggs, and another mug of coca tea so fight that "I'm so full i want to go back to sleep" feeling.

Today's destination: a 5 mile trek to the summit of the Salkantay Pass and another 7 miles down through the sub-tropic region of the Ande's. First up, about a 3 hour moderately level (some hard elevation changes) trek toward Salkantay. Salkantay is not your ordinary snow capped mountain. This bitch is HUGE! Topping out at a staggering 6,271 meters (20,574 feet), it is only the 12th highest peak in Peru. Salkantay is one of the more historically significant mountains of the Peruvian Ande's. Many believe the Incas associated the mountain's alignment with Machu Picchu's sundial directly with the regions climate. They looked at Salkantay as a deity, controlling the rainy season in the Sacred Valley and Cusco.

We are approaching the mountain from the southwest side where its glaciers runoff cuts right through the middle. It was cloudy most of the morning, so our view of the mountain wasnt so great, but as we got closer the sun began to burn off the clouds. We were coming right up on the beast. As we got closer, we realized just how hard the hike was about to get. We were currently around 12,500 feet above sea level. Or summit point for the day was 16,000 feet. I ask Hubert how long it would be before the summit..... "hehe about 1.5 hours until summit" he mutters. Doesnt sound too bad. Until i do the math. Thats about 39 vertical feet per minute. Doesn't sound like a lot, but when you are that high above sea level, climbing 5 feet in a minute will get you winded. We had an extra horse with us that day in case someone could not make it.

We begin the trek up. Cut back after cut back, it is the most exhausting hike i have ever done, hands down. Its hard to look up and enjoy the scenery for fear you may trip over a rock, tumble all the way down and have to start all over again. We moved at our own pace, no rush to the top. I would stop and rest about every 10 minutes and just soak it all in. Its almost funny to watch the others as the seem to struggle up the mountain, hunched over their trekking poles, one foot after another very slowly, breathing very hard. This picture above is a bad example, but really no picture would capture the real struggles. It doesn't look like it, but thats about at a 45-50 degree angle. The horses had a hard time. But once you make it to the top, it is all worth it. The views are amazing. Something so surreal I literally had to keep reminding myself where I actually was. For an hour we sat at the summit and soaked it all in. I didn't speak much up there, just sat there and kept thinking "this my very well be the most beautiful place i will ever be"