shanmonster | Pilgrimage to Machu Picchu: Part Ten

knightky and I are not used to getting up at 3:30 in the morning. In the past, I've gone to bed around that time, but I can't recall ever needing to wake up at that hour. It wasn't easy for anyone. David and Jesus were as sleep-fogged as the rest of us. The camp was cold, damp, and seemed to be filled with shambling zombies. My ears were filled with a chorus of low, moaning laments. No one sounded perky--not even Lovely, who is always perky. To top it off, Kyle had developed a hard, wracking cough overnight, and I was worried.

I grabbed my flashlight and baby wipes, and headed along a dark and winding route through multiple camps to the privy. It was bad in there. Really bad. Although the floor had been relatively clean the night before, it now appeared to be strewn with freshly-turned topsoil. Since there are no shelves or handles in the stalls, I had to manage holding the flashlight and baby wipes while getting my pants down and assuming the position.

It did not go well.

I stifled a squeal when I dropped the flashlight. I thought I would be spending the rest of predawn in inky darkness, but the runaway torch didn't fall into the pit of despair, but instead, landed under the door and rolled outside. With a tremendous sigh of relief, I finished up and got out of there. The flashlight looked clean, but the fall had damaged it, and now it flickered off and on at random intervals.

With my bargain strobe light in hand, I stumbled back to the camp. There, we ate bread with jam, gulped down our tea, and joined the groaning shuffling crowds down the cimmerian trail to the entry gate of Machu Picchu.

The reason for the ungodly wakeup hour is because everyone camps in the same campsite on the last day. It is close to the checkpoint where identification and park passes are checked before admittance is permitted. Machu Picchu is a protected UNESCO site, and only a certain amount of people are allowed to set foot in it each day. So, if you do not have your paperwork in order, you are turned away. (I can't help but wonder how that works. If you don't have your papers, do they throw you off the mountain, send you back along the Inca Trail, or make sure you go directly to the parking lot outside of Machu Picchu rather than entering the ruins?) If you are first in line, you head to the ancient city ahead of all the other shambling zombies, and if you make haste, you'll reach Intipunku (the Sun Gate) in time to watch the sunrise.

Most groups get up around 4:30. Despite our ridiculously early wakeup call, several groups were ahead of us. Perhaps they got up at 2:30 or 3:00 am. Perhaps they hadn't slept at all. Half-dead with lack of sleep, Kyle and I stopped when our group did, stood with legs wide for balance, and let our heads droop. The people around us were talking, and eventually, I realized that none of the voices were familiar. Between the badly flickering flashlight, our sleep deprivation, and navigating the treacherous trail, we'd been separated from the rest of our group. Were they ahead of us or behind us?

We gambled on them being ahead, and started past the other people. The path was narrow and crowded, and although we couldn't see over the edge, we knew a fall would be bone-breaking at best. In a somnambulistic fashion, we crab-walked past everyone until we heard familiar voices. To keep themselves awake, our group was playing a silly word game called "Sex, Drugs, and Rock n' Roll."

I joined in, and Kyle, miserable cough still trying to split his chest and throat, crashed down to sleep while he could. I don't know how long we stood there. I wanted to sleep, too, but there was no room for me to sit. My participation in the game died off, and I weaved back and forth a bit with my pack between my feet.

I think we waited for a few hours. I didn't bother checking the time. I didn't want to know. It felt like we were in line to get the first tickets to a Harry Potter movie or some such, except that we were in the wilderness. Not even the birds were awake yet, and the moon and stars were hidden by clouds.

There was a moment of excitement as the checkpoint, somewhere far ahead of us, opened and admitted the first group. I woke Kyle, and he grumble-staggered to his feet. Our group moved ahead a few dozen feet, and then we stopped again. It went on like this for a while, and finally, we entered the building and had our papers checked. And then we were off.

I didn't take any pictures along this part of the hike, since I wanted to be sure to save my phone's meagre battery reserves for Machu Picchu.

In theory, the hike from Wiñay Wayna to the final pass at Intipunku takes about 90 minutes. As usual, the diuretic effects of the coca tea had kicked in. My bladder was so full that my epiglottis was floating. As we hiked, I searched with increasing desperation for anywhere I could pee. Alas, but the trail was crowded with people and bordered by steep mountain face and a sheer drop. Kyle's cough was getting worse, and he looked every bit as exhausted as he had on the second brutal day on the Trail. Though it wasn't hot, his hair and clothes were sopping wet with perspiration, and he looked on the verge of death. I think his body had passed its level of endurance and was quitting on him. For the most part, the trail was not as difficult as it had been on the other days, but Kyle was slowing more and more, kept going only by sheer pigheadedness. Our hike was taking substantially more than an hour and a half. Jesus was at the back with us, and he looked like he'd had no sleep.

We followed the contours of mountainsides, and dropped into another cloud forest (still with no safe place to take a leak). We passed over two or three landslide sites. (A major landslide had taken out the trails and railway a couple of years before, destroying all land access to Machu Picchu.)

We reached an almost vertical flight of 50 narrow steps.

This is not my video, but here's a taste of what those stairs are like:

And then we reached the final pass! Though the sun had already risen some time before, we climbed the Sun Gate and beheld the valley before us. We sat on the edge of the gate to have our photo taken.

[Sun Gate]

(The winding path behind us is the only road to Machu Picchu. I'd like to take a moment to talk about the pronunciation of Machu Picchu. Maw-chew Peek-chew is correct. Maw-chew pee-chew is not. Pronounced correctly, it translates to "old mountain." Pronounced the way pretty much all non-local people pronounce it, it means "old dick." So when gringos say it the wrong way, there are quite a few sniggering locals rolling their eyes....)

After everyone was through with their photos from the Sun Gate, everyone started the final leg of the journey into Machu Picchu...everyone except Kyle. He was missing. My worry changed to raging jealousy when I caught him taking a leak off the Sun Gate.

"That's so unfair!" I said. "I need to pee so bad!"

He smiled sheepishly, and we continued along the trail. Now it was a stone wall to our left, and drop to our right. I vowed that as soon as I would vault over the wall at the next opportunity and find a place to pee. I finally got my wish. I clambered over the wall, teeth afloat, and found a tiny cave-like construction. I have no idea what it was. An ancient shelter? A grave? In any case, I turned it into my own personal pee cistern, and felt hugely relieved.

I climbed back across the wall, and clean tourists with no backpacks coming toward the Sun Gate from the direction of Machu Picchu looked at filthy, grimy Kyle and I with curiosity. Kyle was not any more rested, despite the respite at the Sun Gate. As he staggered like a soldier from the trenches, an elderly man hiked up the hill toward us. "Good morning," he said, in a jaunty, cheery fashion. Kyle looked at him, blearily. The elderly man made some sort of smart-assed comment about us looking tired, and I just shook my head.

A few more people were coming up the path toward us. Even though they couldn't have walked for more than 15 minutes, and this part of the trail really wasn't that bad, they were talking about how hard a hike it was.

I felt a wash of smugness creep over me, and in my mind, I patted them on the back in a most condescending fashion.

And then there was Machu Picchu. We made it! The whole group of us posed together in front of it.

[Machu Picchu]

Although I took quite a few pictures within Machu Picchu, there are far nicer pictures out there which you can view. The site was full of tourists, and clear shots were difficult to get. I got my best shots up on Wayna Picchu, which is where my hand is pointing in the above shot!

(To be continued....)