I SURVIVED THE INCA TRAIL!!

While Steve hung out in Cusco and the Sacred Valley, I had one of the most challenging and amazing experiences of my life—hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, a 26 mile, four day, three night trek over the mountains to the fabled Inca citadel. My companions were Edison, a namesake of the inventor but more importantly a wonderfully knowledgeable guide to Inca history and culture, and Ben and Jeannie, a delightful young couple from Mississippi who made me homesick for Liz and Giul. I was definitely the senior member of our little group and, in fact, most of the hikers I saw on the trail were in their 20’s and 30’s.

Our group also numbered eight porters, all of whom seemed ageless and incredibly fit. They carried our gear, set up camp, cooked our meals and even provided us with a snack each morning for the trail. While I trudged up and down the trail stopping to rest, take pictures, marvel at the foliage and views or look at Inca sites along the way, they powered their way along the trail carrying loads of at least 50 kilos on their backs. When we arrived at our final campsite for the evening, everything was ready for our arrival—hot water for washing up, our tents set up and dinner cooking.

The first day of the hike took place in brilliant blue sunshine with views of snow and ice topped mountains behind and before us and the Urubamba River below us. The trail wound gently up past farms and adobe houses. Along the way, women were selling bottles of water or Gatorade to passing hikers. If a house or stand had a pole with a red plastic bag tied to the end at was a sign that chicha—a kind of beer made from fermented corn—was available. I can’t tell you want it tastes like because I safely decided to stick to water. At night after hiking about five hours, we camped next to a cornfield. After dinner, I cuddled into my sleeping bag and was lulled to sleep by the sounds of a stream and the croaking of tiny frogs.

Day Two was the real challenge. We woke up at 6am and by 7:30 were on the trail going up and up and up to Dead Woman’s Pass at an altitude of almost 14,000 ft. My heart was pounding, my legs were aching but turning back was never an option. After some five hours climbing huge granite steps to reach the pass, it was another two hours down those “evil steps” ever so carefully, until I arrived at camp for the night. After dinner, I put on just about all my clothes, climbed into my sleeping bag and slept like a baby in the cold mountain air.

The next day took us for hours through a lush cloud forest featuring amazing varieties of orchids, bromeliads, mosses and ferns. After lunch, the trail also featured four hours of torrential rain, effectively soaking all my clothes, my backpack and my shoes. My tent that night smelled like a high school gym since I laid out everything--including a sodden wad of Peruvian money--next to my sleeping bag in a vain attempt to dry out my belongings.

On the final morning, we woke up at 4 am to get ready for the final push to Machu Picchu. The rain had stopped but the clouds remained. When we arrived at the Sun Gate after some three hours of hiking, Machu Picchu was lost in a lake of swirling clouds--a true fantasy kingdom. By 10, the sun appeared and the clouds vanished to reveal the truly incredible grandeur and beauty of the site. Machu Picchu is indeed a wonder of the world but for me the real value and meaning of the experience was getting there over those four days. I am unashamedly proud of my accomplishment.

For some of my photos of the hike and Machu Picchu, click here.