¨De Thooper Mountan Haykerth¨ on the Inca Trail

The classic four day trek along the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu, one of the New Seven Wonders of the World, is (not surprisingly) monumental! The majority of the hike was done on the original path build by the Incan Empire in the late 15th to early 16th Centuries. The ruins along the way teased the senses but do nothing to prepare the hiker for crossing the final pass at the Sun Gate early on the fourth day. December is considered to be the off season, but on the last day I found myself waiting in line to enter the final day with 199 other hikers (200 passes are issued daily). Thus the last day feels more like being herded than a peaceful sunrise walk in the Andes. During the walk down into Machu Picchu all the mooing was gone and there were nothing but smiles lining every face.

The guides took their time in the four day trek to give a prideful and comprehensive history of the Incan culture despite my doubts about their historical accuracy. They spoke English well, but the main guide always spoke with a smooth, sexy, Latin lisp (and a twinkle in his eye), and always called us, ¨the super mountain hikers,¨ which came out phonetically what I titled this blog. For all it's glory and international recognition the militant Incan Empire was only dominant over the Cuzco Valley for about a century, a historical blink of the eye.

Despite the empire's demise the locals are still proud to follow the three rules of the Incan Empire: don't lie, don't steal, and don't be lazy, 500 years after the fall. This was most evident in the porters. The porters on the trail at times would run in their shoes made from old car tires, passing the tourists who were generally struggling with the steep terrain and/or the altitude. Normally Latinos don't walk like they have somewhere to be, and they are generally content to get there when they get there. Being stuck behind a sauntering Latino on a narrow sidewalk was a frustrating experience until I learned how to walk like them. On the Inca Trail I found that the shoe was on the other foot. The 48 km (30ish miles) took us four days to finish, but the fastest porter ever completed it all in only 3 hours and 45 minutes. Note: this happened one year at the annual porter race, he wasn't carrying a pack.

Going up to the highest pass of 4200 m (13750 ft) I tried to pace what appeared to be one of the weaker porters. I kept up and probably could have passed him, but was not interested in getting into a battle of wills with him. Oh, i didn't mention that he was about half my size, his pack was at least twice as big as mine, and he was doing it in sandals. I was impressed, but am still trying to figure out how they still have any cartilage in their knees.

In our group of 13 tourists there were 17 porters. In a given day there are 200 permits for tourists and 300 for guides and porters. I am still trying to wrap my head around why one of them needed to carry a table and stools, another carrying a kitchen tent and mess tent, and yet another carrying three cups per person, full silverware, plates, bowls, napkin holders, and fake flowers for a table setting. My guess is the reason for all the extravagance is to give people jobs at the expense of tourists, but even most five-star hotel managers would be saying, ¨Geez, that's a little over the top.¨

One area where I was glad to have so many porters was when it came to the food. I have not eaten that well in a long time. There were five course meals three times per day, tea and popcorn at 5:00 pm, and daily trail snacks. I still think I was the most impressed by the pizza we ate on day three, but the hot coca tea in bed every morning to start the day was a close second.

On the first morning I was still enjoying my tea as my Irish roommate Eion was out preparing his bag for the hike. One of our Austrailian group members walked by and said, ¨Top of the morning to yeh.¨ (Note: According to Eoin no one actually says ¨Top of the morning to yeh¨ in Ireland. In fact it may be cause for punching someone in the face.) It was hard to watch his reaction while trying to not shower the tent with coca tea through my nose. He looked at me and turned a fire engine red that I did not think was humanly possible. After our hike was done and we were sharing a pint (in an Irish pub ironically enough) some of the others chimed in to get him to say, 'There always after me lucky charms.' Again Eoin turned his bright red and announced, ¨Noo, he'z (and points at me) bean tryin' ter get me to sey dat fer tree weeks nao. I doon't care how many paynts ye put in me I ain't gunna sey't. And we doon't sey, 'top o' de marnin' to yee,' eider.¨

During the hike though we all took turns faking all the accents to the delight of the rest of the group and evidently the Pachamama (Mother Earth) because she smiled fondly upon us all four days of the hike. The great weather meant there were great views. If at anytime the hikers would lift their eye off the shoes in front of them, they would be greeted with the panoramic sight in all 360 degrees. Everywhere you looked there was always another steep mountain or river valley. Therefore there was never a bad picture to be taken. All of the pictures I took came out great, but there is not one picture that can adequately do any justice when 'seeing in surround sound'.

This is most noticeably apparent in Machu Picchu itself. The ruins are situated in the saddle of a ridge line connecting Machu Picchu Mountain and Wayna Picchu Mountain. On both sides of the former religious center the cliffs drop straight away into the steep valley below. On a clear day one can see sheer rock faces and cloud forests that rival Yosemite and the Grand Canyon.

The quality of the stone work in Machu Picchu in mind boggling, and has to be experienced to be believed. Granite was used for to create everything from temples, to retaining walls, to bridges build in cliff faces. Despite not having steel tools to shape the stones the more important building, alters, and compasses were fit together better than most puzzle pieces. In area surrounding the Sun Temple it is claimed to be impossible to slip even a credit card between rocks. After careful exploration and testing I finally found one spot that permitted my credit card to enter. To my surprise a brand new 100 Sol note came out, a gift from the Pachitata (the father spirit) himself. But the god got the last laugh in the end, because when I tried to spend the bill, I was informed that it was counterfeit. It was a good thing I didn't trade real money for the fake currency.

After a morning tour with the guide we were released to do as much walking as our tired legs would permit us. A small group of us bit off a big bit as we attacked and climbed Wayna Picchu. We were going to try to run the steep and narrow assent to try and beat the record until we found out the current standing record for Wayna Picchu: 20 minutes up and 5 seconds down. The view from the top of the bullet shaped hill in the background of the classic Machu Picchu picture did not disappoint. Those who take the time find at the top a panoramic view in every direction. s impressive as the buildings are in Macchu Picchu, Wayna Picchu is that much more extraordinary because of its towering presence like Skeletor's lair on the top Snake Mountain. The rock work is not as fine as in Machu Picchu, but as one squints, focuses, and stares it is hard to tell when the sheer cliff face stops and the Incan rock foundation begins.

The only downer on the whole trip was the torturous four hour train ride home. AIt was like in the beginning of Office Space when Peter is sitting in his car in traffic and gets passed by a man using a walker. The train was painfully slow with no leg room, smelly neighbors, and no hope of getting off (insert maniacal laugh here). I would have rather walked home in four days than have spent the four hours on that train.

The bookends of our the Inca Trail was spent in the tourist staging town of Cuzco. This was the actual center of the Incan Empire and Spanish strong hold for so many years. This means that there are some interesting ruins and combinations of spanish churches on Incan retaining walls. It was here that Dave and I were reunited, and eventually ran into Matt and Drew from PC Panama. We spent a couple of days echando cuentas and reminiscing about the good ol' days. Once back from the trek I ran around doing all the touristy bits in town that I had missed before. The painting of the Last Supper in one of the Cathedral gave me pause. I never knew that Jesus ate chinchilla and mangos at the last supper! Where is that in the communion tradition? Someone has been holding out on me all these years.

Cuzco itself is overly touristy and it is impossible to even sit in the Plaza de Armas and eat breakfast in peace. I couldn't get more than 30 seconds of peace at a time before someone would show up and start bothering me about buying something, donating money, or taking a picture with them. It got old really fast, but there were benefits too. In the evening when wee were ready for dinner we would barter for a lower price, and then go club hopping and drink the one free drink at each place. The whole mood of Cuzco got old fast, it was time to move on.