While the faint of heart took the train to
The Incans built to last. Though some sections are packed dirt, wherever there are steep grades or potential for erosion they paved with stone ramps and steps on solid foundations, crafting stone culverts to divert rain water. My driveway can’t go three years without developing potholes, but the Incan trail has lasted over 500 years with little maintenance and is in fine shape. Substantial portions of the trail were built on steeply sloping mountain sides, and I saw places where retaining walls had been built 20 feet or more in height to support the narrow width of the trail. Several sections are tunneled through the stone mountainsides, and in some locations near vertical staircases are carved into solid granite rock.
The Incans never got around to inventing the wheel, and it’s probably just as well since they wouldn’t have had much use for it in their mountain terrain. And though they had llamas and alpacas to use as pack animals, they apparently found that people made more effective beasts of burden. Some sections are too steep for all but nimble two footed creatures. The Inca trail had a utilitarian purpose, to be used by foot porters. But it was also built to serve a clear ceremonial or religious purpose.
The trail passes through some of the most sacred terrain of the Incans. And it is apparent that the trail was designed to accentuate and highlight the sacred and awe inspiring. That is certainly the impression you get walking it. Each turn of the path elicits an involuntary “wow!” revealing progressively grander vistas threaded by paths and staircases, fortresses and temples, until finally – if you survive – you arrive at the fabled redoubt of Machu Picchu which blows away all else. Imagine if you will Indiana Jones, absent the enormous rolling stones and (as far as I could tell) poisonous snakes, but with the eye-popping snow-capped peaks, thousand foot drops, rickety gorge-spanning bridges, and thunderous water falls plummeting to uncharted depths. With a unique combination of natural, manmade and historic significance, the Incan trail has got to be one of the great walks on the planet.
Accompanying me on the trail were David and Samantha. Beyond being delightful traveling companions, they were thoughtful enough to be smokers, which slowed them down on the uphill stretches just enough that their otherwise youthful energy did not embarrass me too greatly. David also was nice enough to weight himself down with about 20 pounds of toiletries and hair gel, apparently of the view that there was no point hiking the Inca trail if you can’t look your best doing it. Key Inca trail advice – travel light. Though not quite as light as Sam, who about five minutes into the trek announced “my camera is saying ‘memory card full’. Does that mean I can’t take any more pictures?” For the next several days any new photo op had to be balanced by deleting another photo. Today’s too obvious travel tip – bring extra memory cards.
Our party also included Nancy, our charming guide, a veteran of more than 100 trips down the Incan trail, and a bottomless source of information on all things Incan. She cannot be blamed for the innumerable inaccuracies in this blog. While I really enjoyed listening to her, it had little appreciable impact since I start out each day with my metaphoric “memory card full”. Anything new I learn must be balanced with something forgotten. I compensate though with creativity. If a recounted fact is not boring you can be reasonably sure I made it up. We also had eight porters.
Yes, eight porters, for four people. I’d hoped to slip that by but you are just too quick. The truth is that a trek down the Inca Trail can’t actually be considered roughing it. The porters carry all your baggage, including sleeping bag, air mattress and tent; you need carry only a day pack with camera, suntan lotion, hair gel, extra memory cards etc. Moreover, the porters are carrying a dining tent, with table and stools, a propane stove, pots and pans, and enough food to eat remarkably well (and even gain a few pounds) over the four day trek. The whole trip is fraught with an embarrassing level of indulgence, beginning with the morning wakeup call when the smiling porters appear at the door of your tent with a silver tray of tea and coffee. After you set out on the trail, the porters pack everything up, load it on their backs, and jog off after you. Just as you are starting to congratulate yourself on how little you are wheezing on the uphill, and what a sensible purchase those $200 hiking shoes were, the porters clad only in flip flops jog by you with all the gear happily chatting among themselves. By the time you reach the lunch stop they are waiting to greet you with a refreshing glass of juice and warm water to wash up with. They have made camp and are at work on the meal. The process repeats in the afternoon. A porter’s life is not an easy one – it takes its toll. The oldest – a wizened fellow you might have called grandpa – turned out to be almost a decade younger than me. They are mostly farmers who do the work for supplemental income and are paid just $30 for the four days, plus tips. The whole system seems so inequitable and abusive that it occurred to me to recommend the Inca Trail only to Republicans. Or possibly to Democratic union organizers. But, on reflection, nobody told them they had to be born poor Peruvians, right? There is also an option where you can take fewer porters and carry your own baggage, if you are out of your friggin’ mind.
Your faithful correspondent,
Walkabout Dave
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