Chapter Sixteen

DAY three arrived very cold and crisp. Today was our short day so we did not get up till 7am, and after breakfast, we set off on the trail at 8am. Todays trek, although at 10 kms is shorter than yesterday´s 16 kms, is just as chanllenging as yesterday´s, involving, as it does, the descent of what seemed like thousands of steps. We treked till 3pm and arrived at Winay Huayna our campsite for the night at just 2680 meters or 8,792 ft above sea level. A far cry from 4,200 m or 13,779 feet above sea we reached at the top of Dead Woman´s Pass yesterday. It makes me feel good that I can climb to nearly 14,000 feet without oxygen, thanks to the prudent acclimatisation we took for several weeks before attempting the famous Machu Picchu trek.

When we arrived at the campsite my toes were sore and as soon as lunch was over I sat in my tent with a basin of water which I put my feet into for about 20 mins. We were free to rest till 5 pm. Some of the others went to sleep but I just ¨chilled out¨ in a basin of water.


At 5 pm we were escorted by our guide to an Inca site about a 7 minutes walk from our campsite. It was the largest we had seen on the trail and was described by our guide as a mini Machu Picchu. Laid out in similar fashion to the real Machu Picchu, it was a beautiful place and well worth the visit even though at the time I found it difficult to move myself once I had settled into my tent for a rest earlier that afternoon.


At our campsite, we could avail of the luxury of a hot shower, at a cost of 5 soles, (about 1.25 euro). Some people did. Each person was allowed a max of 10 mins to get undressed, washed and dried. Only 2 showers were available, one for men and the other for the women. When I looked at the queue, I thought better of it because there were 20 women waiting and with each one allowed 10 minutes I would be waiting for over 3 hours for a shower. It would also be dark and cold by then. Rain was threatening to come and the rumbling of thunder could be clearly heard in the distance. I preferred to stick my feet in the basin of water instead and ´baby-wiped´ the rest of my body.


Each evening at dinner we were given details of the next days events. This evening we were informed that we were to be at the Sun Gate to see the sun rise the following morning. We would be woken at 3.45am and would be leaving our campsite at 4.30am. The sun would rise at the Sun Gate at 6.30am. With this in mind we all headed off to bed at 9.30 pm


During the night the threatened rain came and with it the promised thunder and lightening. Its ferocity kept most of us awake for the rest of the night. It did not bother me, I was very snug in my sleeping bag and the sound of the rain on the tent was lovely. I felt secure inside the canvas. By the time our porters woke up our team with a basin of hot water to wash with and our hot cup of tea, I was already half packed up and almost ready for breakfast. I was excited as well as emotional. This was a very important day for me. I could not but help think of Tony whose dream this had been but who was missing the thrill of what I was about to experience and witness.

The Gods, it seemed, were crying in their heaven.It was a wet, wet morning and like the others I was compelled to dress in my rain gear. Like the porters, guide and others on my trek, I also used my head lamp, worn on the head like a miner´s lamp, to light up the way ahead.


No one was really in form for a big breakfast, but I guess the chef knew this, for he had baked us a cake. This was a special cake, made with all of us in mind. One of the girls did not eat sugar, so when the cake was baked, a section of it was made without icing. In my case, a section was inscribed....if that´s the word....with a shamrock. It was nice for someone to think I was special and to go to this much trouble for me and at a height of a mile and a half into the sky!


We set off on our last day on this difficult adventure at 4.30am in the rain and the dark. Our fourth day´s hiking would take us down 1,100 feet and across the a distance of 5 kms over uneven and difficult pathway. We set off at a very fast pace - our objective to reach the Inka Sun Gate before the Sun arose. It would be such a pity to get to the sun Gate late and miss the early rays of the sun illuminate our pre-Columban lost city in the Andes.


My muscles ached, my toes were sore, my shoes and trouser ends were filthy and all my joints groaned. But I persisted and with a mixture of determination and an unwillingness to seccumb to whatever nature might throw at me, I went on with some pride and a little enthusism, happy that I was achieving this important target in my life. I was achieving a dream, one that had been Tony´s to begin with, but which turned out to be mine to complete.


But these Inkas were shrewd people. They did not make penetration of their mountain top fortress easy. Incidentally, it was so remote and inaccessible that the Spanish although they conquered the rest of Peru never discovered this citadel in the sky. It was only discovered by an American academic in the 1920s with the help of a local farmer who lived in the valley thousands of feet below . It was as if nature had covered this place with trees and shrubs. It had lain undiscovered for almost 500 years. And I was now about to trod on this sacred and hallowed ground.

But not before one last shock was in store. For just after a bend in the mountain path, my mouth almost dropped when I saw what was in front of me! STEPS ! An almost 100% vertical wall of steps. Upwards. About 50 - 60 steps. One false move, one missed step, one miscalculation and I would truly be resting in pain, but more likely resting in peace! I tried not think of the consequences.

So, "right," I thought ! The only way for me to conquer this final challenge is on "all fours," undignifed though it might look. I didn´t care who was watching, or how I might look. I took a deep breath; did not look up or down, but just went for it. I dared not look around or stop for fear of falling. I simply kept going.

Exhausted, I scrambled over the top, glad not to be last in our group to overcome this final obstacle. I was surprised and delighted when other people in other groups who had reached the top applauded me on my arrival there. Everyone, it seemed, encouraged everyone else. We in turn encouraged and applauded the other treckers coming after us and overcoming this final gravity-defying challenge.

It was now 6 am and our target was to reach the Sun Gate in thirty minutes time before sun-up. By now the rain had ceased. But................... to my disapointment and dismay, I did not see the sun at all. Yes, the sun had risen that morning as normal and we did arrive on time to see it ......... but the mountains were covered with cloud and mist. It was worse than a dark, grey, winter´s afternoon. Some people cried with disappointment. Others barely held back the tears. Our hard and fast final trek through the mountains that moring seemed to have been in vain. But not totally.

On we pushed, this time to reach Machu Picchu proper. I knew or guessed Tony would be waiting here for me with his porter/guide. He had never been far from my mind and I was now going to meet up with him again, or so I had hoped, because I had no idea whether he had made if off the mountain and if so, what condition he was in.

If things had gone well for him, I knew he would be coming by bus to Machu Picchu. A fleet of Mercedes buses bring tourists from the town of Aguas Calientes (´Warm Waters´in Spanish) and he would be waiting for me when I reached my final destination. And this is precisely what happened.

It was Amanda, one of my group, who spotted Tony´s porter first. Tony was nowhere to be seen. I wondered what was wrong. I went down to where Javier and the porter were standing and asked what was wrong. There is nothing wrong, he the told me.......just that Tony is outside the gate. and cannot get in because I have his ticket and is waiting for it ! We all went out and met Tony and everyone in the group gave Tony a warm welcome back as if he had never been away these past two and a half days. But I gave him the warmest welcome of all. Together, we officially all entered Macchu Pichu as a group the way we had started off.

Tony writes: I was glad to be re-united with Trish and the rest of the group, but came so close to not making it. AS you know, I decided to turn back after two hours on the second day of the trek. My reasons for doing so have already been given by Trish; my concern about delaying and hindering other members of my group by virtue of my slow pace, and therefore placing their safety in jeopardy, and secondly, I reckoned it was beter to be a live grandfather to Rachael and Gareth´s pending child than to be a dead or otherwise hero on the mountain. It was not without some discussion with myself that I reached this decision, but in the end it was clear cut - there was no decent option open to me but to turn back.

That, however, was only the start of more trouble. The journey back would mean re-tracing that morning´s two-hour two kms journey and then re-retracing the 14 kms covered on Day-1, a total distance of around 16 kms. A porter, Ramon, was secunded to travel with me for I did not remember my way in these mountains and his duty was to make sure I got down safely, as least as far as Kilometer 82, our starting point.

But through a mix-up or over-sight, the journey had to be undertaken without food and with only three small bottles of liquid between us. Both Ramon and I had been walking since 5.3o am that morning. We stopped for five or ten minute rests when I required a ´breather´ but resumed for fear that the day might not be long enough for us to reach the safety of our starting point. Eventually, around 2 p.m. I told Ramon I was exhausted and doubted if I could complete the journey.

He asked me to rest and continued along the trail, until he found a farm-house, where he hired a horse to take me and my backpack the rest of the journey. The horse had a saddle but no bridle. I was simply expected to hold on to his mane for security. The old lady who had brought us the horse volunteed to walk in front with a rope tied around the horse´s head. But it was useless. Never having ridden a horse before and fearful of the fall to the ground, never mind the sheer drop-offs at the side of the trail pathway, I panicked and had to dismount almost immediately.

But the horse had now been hired. It could not be un-hired. So I decided that the backpacks Ramon and I were carrying should instead by carried by the horse while we walked in front at our own pace. The toothless old lady who owned the horse walked patiently behind. On and on we trudged, up mountain, down trail, until at last we reached a drinks station, where I purchased soft drinks for Ramon, the woman and myself.

At we neared Kilometer 82, we realised the porter and myself would never make our destination to Aguas Caliintes. So we dispensed with the horse´s services. The old lady quickly mounted the horse, put a rug on the saddle, and turned off for the fastness of her mountain home.

As we waited in the cold at Kilometer 82 Ramon and I were asked by an American to share a cost of a collectivo into Olantaytambo, which we gladly agreed to do. For despite the heat of the day, and our exhaustion, we could barely tolerate the icy cold winds which were now whipping up. The sun had gone down and there was snow on the mountains above. Nothing for it but to pay the 50 Peruvian soles demanded by the mini-bus owner for the exclusive use by us of his vehicle.

Within two kilometers, however, a row broke out. The driver, who was now greedy for more money than the 50 soles we had agreed to pay him, wanted to pick up other passengers to augment this amount. But the American was having none of it. We had a deal, he reminded the driver. Problem was one of the passengers was the driver´s cousin. At first he said he would not pay to take a lift in his cousin´s collectivo, then he agreed to pay twelve and a half soles - his share of the cost- but then changed his mind again and said he would pay nothing. I thought all hell would break out.

Eventtually, the driver agreed to abide by the term of the original deal but it meant having to pass and ignore all his ussual customers on the road. They were not pleased. Greed, however, is not without some moral lessons. I hope he learned it.

That evening Ramon and myself helped outselves to two big meals and some beer in a restaurant in the town of Olantaytambo. A tremendous sence of relief overwhelmed me. I was exhausted but had survived. I was happy to have got down off the mountains, safely. It might not have happened.

Unpacking my rucksack that night, I was astonished to discover it contained chocolate bars, sweets and other energy-giving substances which my porter and I could have done with on the mountain that day, and which Trish had packed for my survival. But I was so distressed with my physical and emotional condition on turning back that I had forgotten their existence. I knocked on Ramon´s door, told him of my stupidity and forgetfulness and shared my ´bounty´with him. He smiled quietly, but I know he was pleased. As if to say:"things happen."

Two days later, I was re-united with Trish on Machu Picchu. We chatted and talked as we made our way round the Inca ruins. My admiration for her was immence. She had achieved what she thought for her was unachievable. We joked that she would have some story to tell our grandchild/grandchildren. And she did it at 53 years ! I nearly fell in love with the woman all over again. She had shown tremendous guts, courage, determination and will-power. Not that I doubted that she had these qualities. But she had been tested and not found wanting in these attributes.

I was proud of her and I hoped her family would be too. She had undertaken and succeded in completing an overwhelmingly difficult challenge, on her own, and one which has defeated much stronger and younger people than her. My admiration for her has grown and grown. She is some woman. And I am glad and very happy to be married to her. I am a lucky man !

After Machu Picchu we relaxed in Cusco. Trish had her hair and nails done in a local hairdresser and we both had a massage. We got back to Lima, met our friends Maria Elena and Gonzalo, said ´Hola ¨to their son, Ivan. But but we were sad to leave two days later for the journey down Peru on what was to be the end of a dramatic finale in this historic country.

Our experiences had changed us. Of that, there was no doubt. I had a new respect for Trish and was in awe of her accomplishments and achievements. She had shown a side to her character that others are seldom called upon to reveal.

And she had not been found wanting.

But another country was calling us south, and time could not be delayed.