I wake this morning after one of the most rock solid nights of sleep I’ve had since arriving in Peru. I almost don’t want to crawl out from under the creature comforts of my cozy bed and warm covers, but then I realize I’M IN PERU!!!  So, I quickly change my tune, thank the Universe for another brand new day filled with adventure and possibility, and get myself moving.  

Despite hiking miles and miles each day up steep inclines and stairs, my body has only been minimally sore and recovering quickly.  I wonder if it’s that I’ve been fueled well and hydrated, but then remember to give myself some credit for staying in relatively good shape and preparing for this adventure. To the outside world looking in, I sometimes think these trips and treks appear easy as if they require minimal prep.  In reality though, each one of us here has put in months of physical training and mental prep work along with the proactive planning required to ensure our lives and families at home are taken care of while we are away. For those of us taking on a trek like this for the first time, there has been a ton of gear prep required as well.  These adventures remind me of the iceberg image that shows success.  You know the one I mean?  The hard work and time required is all buried under the water never to be seen and so, unless you’re living and breathing it and putting the work in, it’s easy to miss all of that effort and work and instead, see succeeding as an easy peasy lemon squeezy type journey.  Believe me, it’s anything but. 

As I put on my clean clothes, my dirty buff, and my faded, salt-stained, sunscreen-doused hat, I think I’ve achieved a pretty good mix of clean and filthy for day seven of a trek.  I dress the blisters on my heels with moleskin and bandaids for the however many days in an row it’s been now and as I give them a once over, I see they don’t look any worse than they have.  I’m grateful I actually have supplies to dress these babies appropriately on this trip, unlike my very first extended outdoor experience in 2005 at Yosemite.  I was totally naive and unprepared and wound up covering massive heel blisters with duct tape for days. I’ve come a long way since then and so I’m calling this a win! 

After a buffet breakfast at the hotel that has definitely been beaten out by our breakfasts in the mess tent, we gather and head out to the bus station in Aguas Calientes to make our way to the main gate at Machu Picchu.  This morning, we will have about two hours to explore and learn from our guides before just about half of the group, myself included, will break off for the optional hike up Huayna Picchu, commonly known as Wayna Picchu.  I like wine a lot and so I remember the name of this mountain because it sounds like “Wino”Picchu.  Please don’t judge.  

Yesterday, we got to explore the upper terraces of Machu Picchu and so this morning, our guides lead us to the lower terrace areas.  We visit and learn the history of The Temple of the Sun, The Temple of the Three Windows, Intihuatana (the sundial), The Temple of the Condor, and so much more.  It feels somewhat overwhelming to take so much information in in such a short amount of time and I once again find myself wishing there was a book of notes summarizing it all that I could take home with me.  One thing I held onto though was when Harry shared that the population of Machu Picchu was likely around 800 people or so, but for festivals or ceremonies, a few thousand people populated the site.  This morning, as I sit here learning so much information, soaking up so much history, and trying to process it all, I can’t help but think about the ancient civilization, the people, the culture, the farming, the sacrifices, the hustle and bustle that once occurred right where my two feet are planted on this Earth.  I have a hard time wrapping my brain around it all, but one thing is for sure.  I feel so extremely grateful to be here.  

Also, two things stand out to me this morning.  The first is how truly fortunate we have been on this trek to see barely any other humans outside of villagers on the trail.  As mentioned in an earlier blog here, when we hit the original Inca Trail closer to town, we began to see more humans, but nothing compares to the number of humans we are seeing this morning at Machu Picchu.  

We are placed in groups of ten or so as we move from one area to another and watched by the guards on-site to ensure our group size doesn’t grow.  It seems there is a rule here, no more than ten people to one guide.  It feels very touristy and operation-like as we advance from temple to temple, spot to spot, but I am told the crowds are nothing like they could be.  Due to the political climate in Peru, and prior to that Covid, sadly the number of visitors to this beautiful, breathtaking country has drastically decreased in recent years.   

The second thing that stands out, totally unrelated to the first, is that as we tour and explore, I feel a sluggish.  I remind myself that every day for the past six days, my body has been up and on the move, climbing and working hard by 8 AM.  This morning though that isn’t the case and I wonder if my body is just confused by the slow, relaxed pace we have taken.  I feel almost like it’s saying to me, hey, if you’re not going to work then just rest all together.

No can do. 

While I may feel sluggish and tired, I know nothing in this life is guaranteed and that I may only be blessed to be in Peru once so I’m taking every opportunity presented here and grabbing it by the balls.  The optional climb is near and clearly I need to kick it up a gear or two to work, grind, and challenge my body once again.  Remember my only rule is this- don’t die. 

As our group tour comes to a close, I take a moment to split off from the larger group to experience The Sacred Rock, one of the most spiritual locations in Machu Picchu believed to radiate healing and positive energy.  I have a brief conversation with the Universe and my spiritual team, do my best to channel in and soak up that positive, healing energy and then, it is go time. 

We approach the entry gate to Wayna Picchu less than five minutes later and I see on the sign that a maximum of just 400 people are allowed to climb here each day.  The gate agent checks our passports and tickets, each of us signs the visitor book indicating our name, country of origin, and the time we depart, and then we make our way down a small hill to the official trail head.  According to our guide for this climb, Uri, we have a two hour window to make it round trip, up and down.  It should take us approximately one hour to ascend and one hour to descend, an even split.  

As we start moving forward at the official trail head, we are immediately ascending.  It is the first day I haven’t brought my poles, but only because others who looked into this optional hike much more than I did had shared it would be impossible to use them.  Too steep, they had told me.  But how much steeper than what we had already done could it be?  After just a few minutes on the trail, I understand what they meant. Too steep is an understatement.  

Standing at 8,923’, the trail to the summit of Wayna Picchu consists of approximately 750 stone steps, including a portion near the summit known as  “The Stairs of Death”. Despite being a potential form of human torture to summit this mountain given the quick and steep ascent, I feel like I am in the midst of a spiritual experience. At some point between huffing and puffing for air, I enthusiastically exclaimed to those near me on the trail, “It’s Sunday and we’re going to Church!” Nature IS my church and on this Sunday, it only feels fitting to be taking on this challenge to summit a spiritually symbolic place in the Incan community, home to The Temple of the Moon. 

Our group is moving at what feels to my lungs and legs like an aggressively rapid pace. The amount of sweat dripping from every inch of my body is like a sort of soul cleanse.  I am bouncing back and forth between thinking things like “What the hell are we doing?!?” and “This is absolute insanity people!” to “It’s just stairs. Just keep going up!” and “You’re crushing this! Don’t stop now!” I realize my thoughts are words coming out of my mouth either as I hear myself mutter “fuck” for the 100th time under my breath or as I say to Chris and Vicki something like, “What the fuck?! This tastes like death!” I’m not sure which one it was exactly.

As I reach the “Stairs of Death”, I know I am near the summit. My body and mind shift gears and push into overdrive and my adrenaline flows full force. The stone steps became so narrow that at times my feet are placed sideways to fit and they are so steep that I find myself climbing with both my hands and feet, like I am climbing a type of stone ladder built into the side of this ancient mountain. These stairs are like some part of an obstacle course I never imagined I would find myself on. I am blinders on and laser focused with a sole goal of getting to the top. I haven’t doubted myself before and I won’t start now. I know I will make it all the way.  I know our group will make it to the top today. I know this experience will be forever etched in my mind, every last detail of it. Today, I once again find myself bumping up against my own edges and breaking through limits I had clearly created in my mind. I’m defining new boundaries today in terms of my capabilities and doing hard things in this life and THAT feels freaking AWESOME!

Our group makes it up to the summit in just 45 minutes. No injuries. No issues. Fucking badass.

The breeze at the top feels phenomenal on my boiling hot skin and the views, well, there are no words. Machu Picchu appears to have markedly shrunk in size in the 45 minutes it took us to climb all the way up here and it feels so very far away from where we stand. We take turns sitting on a perch in the rock to snap photos and as I look back at the photos later of course, I am not surprised to see that they do no justice to the real views and scale of it all. Here I sit on top of the world, somehow feeling even closer to the Heavens than I did before, feeling so blessed to be right here, right now.

We make our way back down Wayna Picchu, slipping our bodies and our packs through a narrow cave as we begin. Going down is as steep as it was coming up just in reverse. We stop along the way, sometimes in awkward contorted positions on the narrow trail to let the hikers climbing up pass us by as others had done for us during our ascent. God forbid you stop and lose momentum on the uphill. I let some hikers know they are close to the summit as a way to encourage them, but I only do so for a short while while we are still near the top. When I was running marathons and someone would lie and tell me I was close to the finish, I would get so frustrated with them. Why would someone tell you you are near the finish when in reality, you still have miles to go? I’m not here to give anyone false hope today.

After descending, our bus picks us up and we depart Machu Picchu to head back to town for lunch. I sit up front next to an older gentleman who shares he has also traveled to Peru on his own. He has come from India and will spend one week here. From Peru, he will continue traveling all over South America for the coming months. He is a successful healthcare lawyer who is semi-retired, doing only contract work now when he chooses. He talks about his adventures to too many countries to count and more states that I myself have visited. He tells me how he is heading to the jungles in Peru for the next three days and then, he will meet his son in Chile to explore together. I think about the day when I will meet my children in a new place to explore together. I think about the trips I have been planning in my head to new states and to more National Parks. I think about how I must continue to create a life filled with flexibility and freedom and exploration and joy because time, well, it’s priceless and our time here on this Earth, it’s limited. I intend to invest my time, live this life, and experience epic shit at as many turns as possible.

We arrive back to Aguas Calientes and meet up with the rest of our group at a local restaurant near our hotel. Our guides have reserved a large area of the top floor for us to have lunch. The walls are lined with money from all over the world, handwritten notes and drawings on crumpled up napkins, and business cards of all kinds. I am on sensory overload as I look to my right and see one of my teammates Karen, holding a giant drink that looks like a frozen green margarita. I order one thinking it’s some kind of lemonade, but clearly my head is still scrambled from the climb earlier because when it arrives, I realize it is a frozen limeade. I suck my first frozen sip through the straw and my whole mouth waters as my face scrunches up from the sweet citrusy tang of it. That doesn’t stop me though because this frozen treat is so cold and refreshing and amazing all in one!

The portions at lunch are big enough to feed an entire family and so by the time we exit the restaurant, we are all basically waddling along in a food coma, legs tired from the morning adventure. We make our way to the hotel, grab our duffel bags, and then head to the train station. We spend some time shopping in the market just outside the entrance way before making our way onto the afternoon train bringing us back to the luxury of our eco tents at the hotel in Ollantaytambo. I fall asleep for much of the train ride back and when we return, I remember that I have booked a massage for this evening.

BEST. DECISION. EVER.

Still full from lunch, I settle into cozy and beautiful tent #12 where I find a large basket waiting for me. It is filled with a plush white bathrobe, a pair of soft slippers, and a lantern that I use that evening to light the path to the spa nearby. My massage is absolutely fantastic. My body has been worked, my mind is exhausted, and as I lay there being pampered to the nines, I am reminded of the healing power of human touch.

As of today, we have hiked at least 62 miles, passed through 42 microclimates, ascended  as over 15,000’, climbed literally thousands of steps, and trekked for seven days.  As a group, we have overcome chest colds and head colds, sore throats and headaches, pulled muscles and tired bodies, and some minor symptoms of altitude sickness.  We have laughed too many times to count, shed tears of overwhelm and pure joy, and made memories to last a lifetime.  We have all overcome mental and physical challenges, some have experienced firsts, and we have surely done hard things.  We have experienced discomfort, we have grown, and we have lived!

As I lay my head down on this cozy pillow, my body wrapped in soft blankets once again, I feel so grateful to have been connected with this group of 21 amazing humans.  I came as a stranger, am leaving a friend, and tomorrow, the adventures will continue. We will have a city tour, a picnic lunch, and our final celebration together before myself and three others tackle one more mountain together because, well, when in Peru…