Trek - 3/4 - i should log off

Torres del Paine

November 16, 2009 By Jillian

To call ourselves hikers and not go to Torres del Paine National Park in Chile would be the fastest way to loose our credibility. So despite the awful weather, we crossed yet again into Chile arriving in Puerto Natales in the middle of yet again, another snowfall.

Famous for its rock structures (the torres or towers) the park is covered in hiking trails through the mountains and around the turquoise glacial fed lakes. One of the most famous of these hikes is called the “W” which takes 3-4 days to complete and not surprisingly makes a W path around the major points of interest. Without the proper camping equipment and fearing that Florida boy Danny would turn into a popsicle with more than one night camping next to a glacier, we opted to do a modified “W”, which really looked more like a “U”.

Blame it on our adventure racing, but we’re pretty goal oriented when we hike. So when our bus from Puerto Natales arrived at the park later than expected, we charged up the mountain like a pair possessed, determined to make it our original goal for the day. The constant damp, cold weather that’s been following us the last few weeks finally caught up with us as Danny hacked, coughed and sneezed his way up and down the trail. By the time we got within sight of the mirador, we were a classic case of tortoise and the hare. The steep trail had become in my mind practically vertical, and I had no motivation to continue. And then a french woman on her way down came sliding into me like a baseball player sliding into base fueling my displeasure even more. I complained as we crossed the snowline, which we didn’t expect to cross. As we hauled our tired bodies over the final set of boulders and arrived at the mirador I was umm… disappointed. While Danny thought the view was incredible, it took a while to grow on me.

The moment we arrived the clouds seemed to part allowing sunshine to bathe the towers. It was still cold and windy, but somehow the sunshine made it better. As the professional photographer next to us snapped nearly his entire memory card of pictures, we took our requisite pictures, enjoyed the view and decided we’d had enough of the freezing cold. As we turned to pick our way down we heard a rumble next to us. Ice had been falling off the towers since we arrived, but this was a deeper rumble and before I could process what was going on, Danny shouted “avalanche!” While the view of the torres in the end won me over, no view can ever compare to watching an avalanche no matter how small from out of harms way. It was a humbling experience.

We had along way to go before our campsite so we headed down. Because of our late start, we hiked literally until dark, hauling our tired bodies into the campground a little before sunset. Thankfully we found our rented tent had already been set up, but unfortunately the “reservation” for two sleeping bags and mats was a joke, and only one of each was available. Thank god the guy at the desk took pity on us spending the night in our lightweight fleece sleeping bags, which we had intended to use only as bag liners, and gave us a comforter off his bunk bed to use.

We’re pretty far south now, so sunrise is about 5:45 a.m. And sunset is around 9:15 p.m. With so many hours of sunlight we figured we’d get up early the next day and complete our modified trek in plenty of time to catch the last boat back to the bus stop at 6 pm. Our haul the day before had taken a toll on our bodies, specifically Danny’s head cold. Couple his inability to breathe well with the hurricane like winds and it was an easy decision to take the “early” boat back at 1pm. The park itself was beautiful, and despite the steep entrance fee, $30 per person, we would definitely recommend to anyone to come in better weather and spend a week hiking the trails.

Big Foot Tour Operator (Cusco, Peru)

September 19, 2009 By Jillian

Recommended by our guidebook we booked our Salkantay Trail trek through Big Foot Operators mostly because they were the only ones recommended by the guidebook that got back to our online requests for information. Very responsive to our initial inquiries and questions via email, we realized we were paying more than the normal rate, but expected to have a better experience.

The staff at Big Foot was extremely professional and as we signed the waivers, contracts and paid for the tour, they went over specific details of the trek with us and provided us with a written receipt outlining what was and was not included in the trek. We were sure there would be no surprises on the trek and were under the impression that Big Foot ran the trail tours themselves with their own guides and staff.

Unfortunately we were wrong, they operate only as a middle man, sending their clients off on tours by other operators. This resulted in a number of very disappointing surprises.

On the second morning we were told that boiled water for our water bottles would only be provided at breakfast, not at all meals as the details from Big Foot stated. Walking on average 8 hours a day, this was completely unacceptable to us, especially given that it was written on our documents from Big Foot. Fortunately we had our own water purifier so we were able to fend for ourselves, however this is such a huge health and safety issue at the high altitudes on the Salkantay that we could not just accept it as fact. Then came strike number two. Combined with clients from other travel agencies and tour operators we had paid almost a third more than everyone else in our group. This wouldn’t have bothered us so much if we felt that we were getting what we had paid for, but the value just wasn’t there. From the poor quality of the equipment to waiting almost two hours for lunch, and almost losing people on the trail, time and time again the tour failed to live up to our expectations of quality.

Little surprises continued to pop up and we found ourselves paying out of pocket for not included transportation to the hot springs and having to pay to put our bags on the train from Hidroelectrica to Aguas Calientes and Macchu Picchu. The issue was not the money it was that the additional costs were surprises despite having going through the details very specifically in writing with Big Foot.

We spoke with Big Foot about our quality concerns and the deviations from our contract upon our return in Cusco. Basically because they are a middle man and not a tour operator they couldn’t live up to their contract. After meeting with our group and the guide, Big Foot agreed to refund us part of our tour price, which while our wallets were happy, we were still disappointed that it had to come to a refund. Overall we had a good time on the Salkantay Trail, but despite resolving the situation, they’re unable to promise anything on the tour since they aren’t the operator and thus we cannot recommend them.

Galaxia Expeditions (Huaraz, Peru)

September 19, 2009 By Danny

Llangaduco- Santa Cruz 4d/3n

This is an incredible trek. Although the hike goes through a pass at almost 4800m, it is a relatively easy trek, with the last two days being down hill. The trek could be easily compressed into three days or two long days. That being said, we lacked the necessary camping equipment and instead of skipping the trek joined with Galaxia Expeditions. Gear, guide, and food, the total was about $120 per person plus a 60 sole entrance fee to the park. If you go, a lot of the local villages are trying to tack on additional fees to help support their communities. It’s up to you whether you pay or choose to dispute the fee, but either way be prepared with small bills.

Our trek lasted 4 days (from Llangaduco to Santa Cruz), with the longest and hardest day being day number two when we cleared the pass. The tour was handled professionally and our guide even spoke a little english! Each day we carried a small backpack with our water and layers of outerwear which were rapidly changed seemingly every 200m or so in altitude. The rest of our gear was brought to the next camp by mules.

With temperatures below 0 degrees Celcius, individual camping gear was extremely important. Luckily we had excellent gear through Galaxia Expeditions, appropriate for the climate and altitude and in good condition. Hot breakfast and dinner were prepared for the group by Emilio, our camp cook and mule driver, and each morning we were given a high calorie bagged lunch. Each afternoon upon our arrival at camp we were greeted with hot beverages and snacks. Overall it was a great experience.

And then we began to walk… and walk…and walk.

September 10, 2009 By Jillian

Icy peaks, Monkeys and ruins, we were determined to show Leah all that Peru had to offer. Without super powers our only option to see all of this was a trek to Machu Picchu, and not on “the” Inca Trail. Opting instead for the Salkantay Trail, an alternative 5 day trek to Machu Picchu, we didn’t realize how much we would walk and walk and walk. If there’s one thing we’ve learned in our travels its that things are never exactly what they are made out to be. Originally we were told our trek was 28 km, which over 5 days is hardly any trekking. We immediately questioned the distance, but decided that our tour operators numbers didn’t account for any vertical distance.

At quarter to five in the morning, we set out from Cusco to the village of Mollepata. Bleery eyed we met the rest of our trekking group, a couple from the Netherlands, two British-Americans and two teenage Ecuadorians with their Dad.

After a quick breakfast of bread and jam, we left our heavy bags behind and set off up the road. Not 20 minutes later our trek had its first casualty. Turns out hiking boots come to Peru to die, as one of the British-Americans lost both shoe soles. Taping together the bottom of his shoes, we plodded on up a dusty road for the next 8 hours to our campsite. I’m pretty sure that in 8 hours we did at least 40% of the distance we were told we’d do in total. Hmmm….

Filling ourselves with popcorn and mate de coca (tea made from coca leaves) the three of us fortunately showed no signs of altitude sickness. Others in our group were not so lucky and spent the night in their tents. With the moonlight reflecting off the snow and an army of cooks and horsemen to do the difficult work, it was a perfect night of camping, even if it was freezing cold. Perhaps the best surprise of the trek was the next morning when the cooks woke us up with tent side tea service. I think the last time I was served hot tea at my tent was the weekend we got engaged! (Danny’s Note…there was no tent side tea that morning…it was hot chocolate)

Never successfully summited despite several international attempts, Salkantay Mountain is not nearly the highest peak in South America, but from below it certainly looks it. Fortunately we didn’t have to summit the mountain, just cross through the Salkantay Pass (4600m), so we got to sleep until sunrise! Although Danny and I climbed higher in Huaraz , it doesn’t seem to get any easier to breathe at high altitude, and we huffed and puffed our way to the pass.

I’m not sure what the exact threshold is, but at some point, no matter how acclimatized you are, it gets really, really hard to breathe and continue uphill. Your lungs just feel like they aren’t getting any air, and in reality they aren’t. I’ll admit, I took a few puffs of my asthma inhaler, something I haven’t done since being diagnosed with shortness of breath a few years ago. Breathless just short of the pass, I declared to our Ecuadorian friends, “no tengo ganas para subir mas.” (I don’t want to climb further). Cracking a smile, we finally made it to the pass and even the clouds took pity on us, parting to give us a view, if only for a few seconds, of Salkantay’s summit. A natural col, the pass was inhospitably windy and cold even at 10 a.m. The only objects at the top besides the sign and some rocks was a skeleton of what we think was a horse. Clearly the distance calculation from our operator was way off, for we walked uphill to the pass for almost 5 hours and like race walkers downhill for the next 3 hours. Others hikers on the same trek told us that they “trained” for the hike. Missed the memo on that one.

Thankfully the three of us are in good physical condition, for the next morning we were achy but still able to move. Unfortunately everyone in our group looked like they caught chicken pox overnight. Definitely not from normal mosquito’s, the bug bites covered our arms and legs in small red welts, which at least for Leah and Danny resulted in some very swollen elbows and ankles. Even with 100% DEET Leah was unable to keep the bugs off her and as we continued the march on the third day (another 6 hours), our rhythm was frequently interrupted with swatting and slapping the bugs away.

Continuing through the mountains along a riverbed, the elevation change wasn´t as drastic, but the scenery was incredible. From a snowy mountain pass the day before, we had descended down into a sub-tropical climate. Banana trees, orchids and humming birds, we couldn’t be further from the icy climate of the day before. Hiking with a purpose, we made it to our campsite by lunch. Greeted by Paco, a domesticated monkey, who took interest in our very dirty bodies and bags, we waited for lunch. Unfortunately for Leah, Paco took a real interest in her curly hair, touching her braids with his hands and even trying to gnaw on them.
Thankfully after our exhausting climb the day before, we spent the afternoon soaking in hot springs and the evening splitting a bottle of Pisco Now tell me you don’t want to come camping with us? 🙂

In the end I’m not exactly sure how far we walked, but I can tell you that for four days at least 6 hours a day, that is all we did. Uphill, downhill, and across riverbeds, the hike was a test unlike any other. The monotony of hiking for so long each day only to get up and do it again is really a testament to the strength of the group and our ability to keep each other interested and occupied. Sure the scenery is varied and fantastic, but for the most part the terrain kept our eyes firmly planted on the ground, leaving us only our rest breaks to really appreciate the mountains and forest around us.

And then there was smoke. Lots of smoke. On the last day, from the valley we had just walked out of, we saw a cloud of think smoke. Within minutes black and gray ash began to fall, and our guide decided it was time to move on. Striking out towards Aguas Calientes with determination, we walked along the railroad tracks away from the fire. From the opposite direction, a group of local men armed with machetes headed into the smoke hoping to destroy some of its fuel before it reached homes. Unfortunately forest fires are not that uncommon in the region as fires set by locals to burn trash frequently burn out of control. According to our guide, Machu Picchu itself has been threatened several times by forest fires in the last decade.

By the time we hauled our bodies into Aguas Calientes we were exhausted, plain and simple. No matter what the tour agency says, there is no way the hike was only 28 km. Though not particularly challenging at any one point the hike was overall draining and as we crashed into bed that night we declared no more! If only we knew…

We’re either arrogant or stupid

September 2, 2009 By Jillian

Twice as deep as the Grand Canyon, the Colca Canyon northeast of Arequipa is an incredible patchwork of agricultural villages nestled in colorful canyon walls. Like the Grand Canyon, Colca Canyon is still home to indigenous Cabana and Collagua peoples, who make their living through traditional farming. Unfortunately for us, its winter, so for the most part the fields were dry.

Every tour agency in Arequipa seems to offer tours to the Canyon from one day bus tours, to multi-day treks. Fortunately we contacted a local guide through couchsurfing who offered his expertise. In true Tobias style we decided to do a two day hike in one day. Our friend told us that it just isn’t done in one day because of the intense afternoon sun, but we’re either arrogant or stupid, and figured that after we conquered the Grand Canyon in a day we could certainly do Colca Canyon. Having assured our friend that we could do it after he expressed hesitation, we took the map he drew us, which we affectionately called the “treasure map”, and headed out on the bus. Six hours later we arrived in Cabanaconde, the furthest village in the canyon, grabbed a cheap hotel room and prepared for our hike.

Inspired by our plan, our new Spanish friends decided to dash their original plan and instead do our circuit, but in the less crazy time frame of two days. Our plan was simple, a loop from Cabanaconde east into the canyon crossing the river before breakfast, and continuing on the other side of the canyon west to the oasis before crossing the river again and climbing out. One variable was left to be determined- how would we handle the 3000 foot change from the canyon rim to the river and back up at over 10,000 feet?

At 4:15am the alarm rang, but seeing as it was still completely pitch black outside we slept for a few more minutes before finally rolling out of bed. Cold and in the dark, we walked out of the hostel shocked to see that the town was already up and moving. Shops, schools and even a restaurant or two were already open, and people were already sitting in the main plaza. Getting a move on, we hurried out of town to the trail head, arriving just before sunrise.

Hiking down to San Juan de Chuccho, the first village on our trek, we passed a few mule trains headed back up to Cabanaconde and a few indigenous men and women heading down. The trail down was steep, and in parts very rocky. (If you ever want to do this trail, it is definitely necessary to have good shoes, don’t be fooled by the smooth mule path the first hour.) Reaching San Juan de Chuccho we were shocked to see a number of really nice looking hostels and restaurants, but pushing to finish in one day we declined a very nice indigenous womens offer of breakfast.

Hiking along the other side of the canyon we were greeted by a number of side trails and off shoot trails. Unsure, we asked everyone we met which way to Costinirhuha, our next village. Friendly, they pointed us in the right direction and sent us on our way with a cheerful “buen viaje.” Unspoiled by the tourism they have, the small villages of Costinirhuhua and Malata were downright wonderful. Traditional clay homes spanned the canyon cliffs, hovering above terraced fields which spread down to the river. Clothed in traditional costumes, the villagers we met seemed genuinely happy to greet us and never once became pushy or aggressive while selling their hostel, food, or crafts. Unfortunately, pushy and aggressive locals have become a regular on our trip, sometimes so much so that they ruin the place we are visiting.

With the sun beating down on us, we clung to what little shade we could find as we rushed down to the Sangalle, the Oasis. The canyon itself was beautiful, from the inside it was blazing hot, but looking up we could see snow covered volcanoes. Hot and tired, we threw ourselves into a frigid pool at El Eden and lounged in their shade eating lunch. We had yet to run into our Spanish friends, and with a real lack of enthusiasm on my part, we headed out of Sangalle only to bump into them at the outskirts of town. Less zealous than us, they decided to take a mule train back to the canyon rim, so we parted ways and marched on.

The trail was straightforward, and by that I mean straight up. Though we didn’t have an altimeter, we figured that we climbed about 1000 feet in the first hour. Unfortunately the next two hours were similar and by the time we reach close to the top we were exhausted. Just as I was about to take my 30th break in the last hour, a man with two mules cheerfully came around the next switchback. “Hola Senorita!” He cried. Como estas? Necessitas Agua?” “No, pero estoy muy consada,” I replied. Laughing he chatted with us for a few more minutes before leaving us with good news- only 15 more minutes to the top! Energized, we mustered up what strength we could and found our way to the top. A beautiful view from above, we were unfortunately greeted by several burning trash fires, making us unwilling to spend time admiring our work. We headed back to Cabanaconde and collapsed.

The trek was difficult, but as we say in spanish, “vale la pena” (worth it). If you ever feel so inclined, it can definitely be done in a day, just make sure you are in shape, start early and be prepared with enough food and water.

Torres del Paine

Big Foot Tour Operator (Cusco, Peru)

Galaxia Expeditions (Huaraz, Peru)

And then we began to walk… and walk…and walk.

We’re either arrogant or stupid

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