Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu

Pre-Peru

In the past six months I’ve spent time backpacking in Thailand, Vietnam, and Peru. Through these travels, one experience stands out as the uncontested highlight; the Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu, a five day trek through a high altitude mountain pass and lush green jungle, ending at the half millenia old well-preserved ruins of Machu Picchu.

The decision to visit Peru was last minute. A friend who I’d wanted to travel with and myself happened to have clear schedules and the money to do so. An email from a cheap flights list reignited the conversation of possibly traveling together and within a day we had flights booked to Lima, departing in six days. Neither of us knew much about Peru, besides that it was famous for Machu Picchu.

Over the next few days I researched Peru and what I wanted to do, immediately being captivated by the glowing reviews of the Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu. I knew I wanted to do the trek, but my mind concocted every possible reason not to do so, coaxing me to entertain more comfortable options. Stay in your comfort zone! I left Philadelphia with no gloves, hat, jacket, or suitable hiking shoes. I had made my decision.

A week later…Day 1

A hostel employee opens the dorm door and calls my name, to which I reply I’ll be ready in a few. I check my phone and It’s 4 AM (he’s early) and I haven’t slept a minute, partially due to the nature of sleeping in a 16 bed room at a party hostel, wherein travelers come and go at all hours, stirring up the quiet, with little regard to those trying to sleep. To be fair, in this instance, I was the disturber of the peace- packing my backpack, getting dressed, brushing my teeth, a quick scan of the bed to make sure nothing is left behind. Though the real culprit in the lack of sleep was the gnawing anxiety concerning what I was about to embark on.

Five days in a threatening environment with no familiar faces and no communication to the outside world, a journey with no easy escape. (My friend who I was traveling with opted to stay the five days in Cusco.) My mind was plagued with thoughts of regret before the trek even began. I should’ve just stayed in Cusco and relaxed. I wouldn’t feel like this right now. What if I have a panic attack? What if I don’t befriend anyone and end up alone for five days? Can I handle that? What if I’m too nervous to continue trekking forward? Would there be any way out? The trepidation is nearly overwhelming.

In the lobby I am greeted by our guide, who doesn’t say much, and a fellow trekker, who also remains quiet. The three of us exit the hostel together, silent silhouettes against the darkness of a cold, still Cusco, a town which sits at an elevation above 10,500 feet. A short walk down the hill which our hostel sits midway to the top of leads us to a city square where we await the arrival of others. As more people trickle in and our numbers grow, the vans arrive; large vans seating around 15 people each that serve as frequent transport for the Peru tourist. The group, now thirty strong, radiates a sense of nervous apprehension and excitement, though this seems to be dampened by the early morning sluggishness pervading the crowd.

I try, unsuccessfully, to catch some sleep on the 2 hour bus ride to our starting point, a small town in rural Peru, anxious to the core about what is to come. The anxiety soon dissipates though, as our trekking group of 10 share our first breakfast together. Talking to them sets me at ease. Everyone seems rather chill and I’m stoked to have ended up with a solid group. Our group is a hodgepodge representing France, New Zealand, Germany, Canada, Poland, and Italy, with trekkers ranging in age from 18 to 35.

The trek begins with a painless, 3 hour, predominantly flat, walk along the side of a mountain and into a valley where we camp for the night. Porters driving mules transport most of our gear and prepare the campsites each night, allowing for an easier journey. From the very start, the views are breathtaking and truly never cease to captivate one’s attention. After arriving at the campsite early afternoon, we eat lunch and are given the option to do a side hike up to Humantay lake, an alpine lake set against a backdrop of the towering Peruvian Andes. The high altitude and strenuous hike foster bouts of anxiety which I fend off on my ascent to the lake. I’m with the three New Zealanders and am surely not going to be left behind. I keep on and make it to the lake, a stunning view well worth the effort.

The second day is by far the most taxing of the trek, consisting of a strenuous uphill climb to the apex, the Salkantay Pass, a 15,000 foot high mountain pass, before the long descent into an incredibly lush green jungle. Again, I have trouble sleeping. I’m not sure if its the altitude or the anxiety preceding tomorrow’s big day.

It is a frigid night in the valley. Our guide says its negative 5 degrees out, though I don’t believe it’s that cold. Sleeping in sweatpants, a sweatshirt, gloves and a hat, enveloped in a sleeping bag is enough to keep warm. Though I’m warm and tired, rest doesn’t come, leading to further worry about the next day. I didn’t sleep last night and sleep doesn’t seem to happening tonight. Will I be able to make it through tomorrow without sleep?I could have been sound asleep in a bed in Cusco. Why did I decide to do this? I drift in and out of sleep.

Day 2

Soon enough I’m awakened by the unzipping of tent flaps, welcoming the cold air into the tent. Through the opening our cook peeks his smiling face in offering Coca leaf tea. It’s 5 AM and I’m beat. I drink the tea and prepare for the day, telling myself to simply keep putting one foot in front of the other if it gets tough. I will make it through regardless of anxiety and discomfort.

Group breakfast is satisfying enough, a filling though nutrient sparse meal, accompanied by quiet conversation, the group collectively waking up as the coca tea and caffeine stimulate the senses. I really enjoy getting to know my fellow trekkers, each person unique with their own intriguing story. We depart camp before 6, another early start as is the theme of the trek. Throughout the morning I am near the front of the pack, trekking on, fending off bouts of anxiety, conversing with newfound friends, enjoying each moment, taking in the astounding beauty of my surroundings.

Before noon, we reach the Salkantay Pass and are dwarfed by the presence of snow capped mountains that dominate the sky in front of us on one side, while far more distant mountains fill out the remaining landscape in the opposite direction. It feels incredible to be there, the highest I’ve ever been, amidst the largest mountains I’ve ever seen, breathing the fresh, untainted, mountain air. I feel a great sense of relief and accomplishment. I trekked into the unknown facing my fears and came out on top, literally. The difficult part of the trek was over and I immensely enjoyed it.

Once the rest of the group arrives we circle around our guide as he explains the lore of the mountain. We then begin our descent, stopping for lunch along the way. The swift transition from snow capped mountains to lush green jungle is jaw dropping. The air thickens and the temperature rises. Layers of clothes are removed, the world seemingly changing seasons over a matter of hours. The ‘major threat’ shifts from low oxygen air to pestering ubiquitous mosquitos which no one can seem to evade. Mosquito repellent is now a must in addition to sunscreen.

I am continually blown away by the stark contrast of a mere few miles distance. A barren mountain pass transformed into a jungle teeming with green and life. At 530 PM we arrive at our campsite, a group of makeshift structures in the jungle. The air begins to cool as the sunlight starts to fade, as we lounge in the grass square of our campground, a jovial mood all around. The day was incredible, though long, and the rest of the trek would be chill relative to it.

Eating dinner that night, on a rickety wooden table adorned with our colorful Peruvian table cloth, surrounded by the warmth of new friends and enthusiastic conversation, placated by the sounds of the jungle night, I felt at peace. The kind of peace that I don’t feel often. The feeling that everything is right in the world even if just for a moment. I can’t help but smile. I could cry I’m so happy. I am so grateful to be here. I finally sleep. I pass out at 8 PM and sleep through the night, waking up refreshed and excited for the trekking ahead. No more anxiety.

Day 3

It’s an easy day consisting of a predominantly flat trek through the jungle landscape. It feels good to exert minimal physical effort, to jaunt through the jungle, taking it all in, feeling the warmth of the sun embracing my tired limbs. After the trekking we arrive at our next campsite, a not so rustic campground on the outskirts of a small town.

Late afternoon we get the opportunity to relax in thermal springs nestled within the mountain valley. I haven’t showered in days, and the mandatory shower pre-hotspring is refreshing, washing away the dirt and sweat of the last three days. The thermal springs feel amazing, though as I remain in the springs the outside temperature drops substantially, making exiting the springs painful. (I didn’t bring a towel and didn’t want to pay the rental fee of $3.)

Day 4

The fourth day begins with zip-lining over a mountain valley. I had never zip-lined before but figured I would try it. Overall I ended up unimpressed, though it was definitely worth doing once! We zip-lined in various positions including upside down and laying down through five zip-lines stretching across the valley below. This was fun! But the exhilarating 30-60 seconds spend cruising along zip-lines, 1000+ feet above the ground was overshadowed by the twenty minute waits per zip-line. It was boredom punctuated by tiny bursts of fun, and the boredom far superseded the fun in my mind.

The second half of the day was spent walking to Aguas Calientes along the train tracks, approximately a 3 hour walk. Many tours of Machu Picchu include this walk along the train tracks, due to it being the cheapest way to get to Machu Picchu by far. The train to Machu Picchu costs ~200/person and brings you to and from Aguas Calientes, the only way into the town wherein one wouldn’t have to walk. Whereas I paid 180 for the entire five day trek including all meals, guide, porters, a night in a hostel (tonight), admission to Machu Picchu ($50), etc. The walk along the tracks is rather strange to me. In the US that would never fly; Hundreds of tourists walking along the sides of an active train track. The weather turned gloomy, grey overtaking blue, the sun hidden from view.

Entering Aguas Calientes after an extended period in the outdoors was akin to culture shock. The town, pumped full of resources from tourism, is starkly different from what I’d come to know in Peru. Pristine streets, luxury hotels, American food, signs advertising free wifi, and absurd prices three times that of those in Cusco marked the signs of something drastically different.

Everyone wanted wifi. We hadn’t had service or internet since embarking on the trek. As soon as we checked into our hostel, I connected to the wifi and was hit with the last four days of one-way communications and notifications. I excitedly told my friends and family how much I was loving the trek thus far. I spent a substantial amount of time filling people in, sending pictures, catching up. Four days isn’t all that long without a phone or internet but it feels that way in a world in which I legitimately can’t remember the last time I’ve gone more than a day.

Sleeping in a bed was another relief not to be understated. The sleeping bag wasn’t that bad, but it doesn’t even come close to the comfort of a real bed. Drifting off that night, I felt a slight sense of disappointment that I was back to civilization, connected to the internet and world and everything else that entails.

Living disconnected, without a phone is something incredible. Eating every meal with a group of people where no one has a phone to check, where the conversation is the only form of entertainment is an almost magical experience. It promotes a true ‘living in the now’ experience. You’re just there and that’s it. There’s nothing to escape the moment, to seek stimulation from. And that is incredible. You sink into whatever your doing. Regardless, I was excited for the following day, Machu Picchu. The strange thing is, the trek is so captivating that many times throughout I forgot the end destination and ‘purpose’ of the trek is ultimately to make it to and explore Machu Picchu.

Day 5

At 4 AM we meet our guide in the hostel lobby to group up for the final leg of the trek, a mile walk to the base of the mountain, followed by a climb up a staircase to Machu Picchu. The staircase is one of the most difficult parts of the trek, leaving you winded with each set of stairs you ascend. The stairs seem endless. It took me about forty minutes to make it up, though it took others closer to an hour. At least the stair climb is short lived. We are some of the first in line to enter the site.

At 6 AM the site opens and we find ourselves in the magnificent Machu Picchu, the final destination of our five day journey. We take our last group picture here, at the typical tourist picture spot. (It’s a great spot!) We spent time exploring the site, our guide explaining its origins and certain features. And then our guide informed us that he had a bus to catch and would be heading back to Cusco. A heartfelt goodbye followed. Our guide was incredible and really made the trek all that it was. It’s sad to see him go, his exit signaling the end of the trek. The rest of the group slowly parts ways. A friend and I make the further trek up to the sun gate to get a higher vantage point of the lost city.

A few hours later we find ourselves walking along the same train tracks, this time leaving Aguas Calientes behind us. It’s hot outside and I’m carrying my full 40 liter backpack stocked with the majority of my belongings that I brought to Peru. I’m sweating and there’s a rash forming on my inner thighs. It stings a bit to walk and the weight of my backpack is not helping. My legs are sore from the 55 miles of trekking. I push on though, unfazed at this last test, the cost of an incredible five days that I consider my best traveling experience thus far. Positivity overpowers my aching body as I daydream about future adventures, the next trek to an unknown place.

I’m in disbelief at how all around incredible the experience has been. It shattered my expectations in the best way. At the end of the walk I part ways with my friend as we board different vans back to Cusco. The ride is a long one (~8 hours) and I’m looking forward to it. I love long rides, especially through interesting scenery in foreign places. It’s a great chance to relax and reflect. I’m ready to chill the entire time, stare out the window at the Peruvian landscape, listen to music, process the experience, and plan for whatever is next.