Snippets Of My Hike Up Machu Picchu’s Brother Mountain
When most people think about Peru, one of the first images that comes to mind is Machu Picchu with all of its mountainous glory. And who can blame them? An ancient city crafted in the mountains – most of it largely untouched. It’s serene beauty and majestic placement has garnered it plenty of attention over the years, and rightly so. But today, my friends, we talk about the lesser-known ruins in the mountain known as Huayna Picchu, which in the native Peruvian language of Quechua, means “young mountain.” Machu Picchu means, you guessed it, “old mountain.”
More specifically, we talk about my trek up the mountain, and let me tell you, just because it’s the younger mountain does not mean it’s the easier climb.
The day started at 630AM and had me meet my guide in the town of Aguas Calientes; situated roughly 30 minutes from Machu Picchu. We got on a bus, rode up the mountain, and in no time we entered through the main gates to Machu Picchu. Although I’ve had time to get used to the altitude, it still seems to sap my energy to a lesser degree.
A light drizzle and patchy clouds only slightly damper an incredible view of the Incan city in the mountains. I bought a poncho for the occasion, but most likely didn’t need it. My backpack is protected by a rain cover and a little drizzle never bothered me. My guide explains to me how the Incans taxed cities in food or livestock, but also taxed them by requesting workers to help build Machu Picchu. As I look out across the green expanse, I imagine hundreds of people tending the overgrown green fields, conversing in the city center, and managing their livestock. One stone city teeming with life in every crack and crevice. Machu Picchu is layers upon layers of emerald grass spiraling up a mountain – a city surrounded by clouds.
But enough about that. Who wants to hear about Machu Picchu? No, what I have for you today is the pitiful tale of one gringo trekking his way up Huayna Picchu.
The Tall Trek Up The Young Mountain
As my guide and I come to the end of the Machu Picchu circuit, he pats my shoulder and smiles. “Okay, friend, Huayna Picchu is just ahead. It will take 45 minutes to an hour to climb. Good luck!” I ask if he wants to come but I already know his answer by the relieved look on his face. “No, not today. You have fun!”
While I did have fun, it wasn’t the type of happy-go-lucky fun people have on a beach or in an arcade. It was the type of fun that’s earned through hard work. The type of fun you get to look back on and say “I’m glad I did that.” But also the type of fun you might think twice about when offered for a second time. As I stare up at the mountain ahead of me, I realize that tonight, I’ll be sleeping well. But tonight was a long way away.
Mountain Out Of A Machu
My poncho flutters and flicks around me only stopping a minor drizzle from peppering my coat. As I look up at the Huayna Picchu trail, I feel I won’t wear the poncho until the end, and I was right. After tripping over it a few times I take it off and ball it up in one hand.
The stones are slick and narrow, making me slow down and thoughtfully place each step. Between the small footholds and stamina-sucking altitude, the hike feels more difficult than it needs to be. I’m not the only one feeling that way as I pass a few groups near the bottom and middle of the hike.
Ropes anchored into the mountain serve as a handhold, but only intermittently. It seemed that the most precarious run of steps came without these guides. It just made me all the more grateful when they were there. After the first 30 minutes, I would climb 40-50 steps and then rest. One minute was spent surveying passing clouds, the rushing Urubamba river below and ancient stony ruins. Then three minutes would be spent putting one foot in front of the other. Luckily, masks were optional. Having it on during hikes absolutely impacts my breathing for the worse. Plus, having it off I could smell the leafy, clean mountain air – a nice reprieve from the huffing and puffing I build up during the climb.
Nearing The Top Of The Trek
The closer I get to the peak, the easier each step becomes. My jacket starts to get heavy with rain and sweat and the heat my body generates is hanging around my arms and chest. The clouds seem to dissipate the higher I go and Machu Picchu starts to peek out from behind white puffs.
A wall of stone signals to me that the top is near. More ancient ruins lie ahead. I take a brief rest on one of the stone layers and listen in as a group of four chat in Spanish, planning their Instagram pics. One girl sits on a stone cliff face and throws up her hands for a snapshot. She moves her long hair over one shoulder and exposes a trail of sweat from her neck to lower back. Her friend laughs and I say “sudorosa, no?” They both chuckle and agree as the girl on the wall moves her hair back -covering up proof of her hard work.
I take my coat off and my undershirt is drenched in sweat. A few dry patches sit at the bottom and I use them to wipe the sweat from my phone lens. The wind feels like heaven and the clouds support that theory. Everything just looks so perfect and peaceful – like it’s all been placed in the precise location it needs to be. My body temperature drops down closer to normal with each passing breeze and I feel its time to get moving again. I throw my gear back on and get ready for the peak.
On Top Of The Mountains & Clouds
A roofless stone room with rectangular windows creates a passage to another set of steps. Slender, green shoots sprout up from the stone, and moss mazes its way through cracks in the rocks. It’s an ancient structure clinging to a mountain with all sorts of flora attached to it. More than a 500 years separates this day and the day construction started on all of this. 500 years is a fraction of a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I think about how far civilization has come.
I’m eager to reach the top now, so I climb up, up, up, up, and finally hit the peak – a platform covered with huge rocks scattered here and there. One points to the sky, so I sit down and scooch to its top. Small birds catch winds on outstretched wings and sail all around us, swift with the flick of tiny wings. I sit at the top of everything and, once again, take everything in.
It’s one of those “kid moments” where you’re thinking about a million things while taking in everything around you. My mind can’t keep up with my eyes as the sensory overload sets in, but it feels so good.
Looking At It All From The Tippy Top Of Huayna
The trail is described as a moderate hike, but it doesn’t just feel moderately good making it to the top. It felt like my hike up Mt. Fuji all over again. It felt like the world was showing off while I got to do the same. This feeling is why I planned a trip for five years. It’s that potent spark of amazement, wonder, and fulfillment that is so special, yet short-lived. It’s what made me actually get back out there again.
After being back on this trip, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not really a traveler. But on days like this, I’m glad I pretend to be.
I linger at a couple of beautiful lookout points before climbing back down and exploring Machu Picchu one last time. It’s my victory lap in the city surrounded by clouds that I won’t soon forget.
-Vagrant
If you missed my last Notes From The Road piece, be sure to check it out here. Paracas was a gorgeous town with plenty of wildlife and food for any traveler.
This entry was posted in Key Quests