Inca Trail: Day 3 - Huayllabamba - Pacaymayo

After the seven-hour hike yesterday, I had no problem sleeping in the tent. Sleeping in a tent was not as rough as I first imagined. Having a four-man tent all to myself, I felt like it was a perfect way of easing into camping. The one item I should have brought would be an inflatable travel pillow, but a folded jacket is an adequate substitute. The biggest inconvenience while camping was the trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Fumbling around with a flashlight and peeing into the bush was not convenient.

I heard a growling animal circling my tent in the middle of the night. I was too petrified to check it out. Would that be my encounter with the elusive Andean bear, perhaps? I asked Jhon and Chris whether they may have heard the same animal sound at breakfast. Neither did. Considering food was undisturbed, Jhon believed it would likely be a smaller animal, such as a dog or fox. I do have to wonder whether I was hallucinating. Much to my surprise, Chris seemed to have a rough time. As it turned out, he may be outdoorsy but not necessarily a big into camping. He was even more bummed out with the lack of a shower than me.

The morning call for this morning was six o’clock. A bucket of warm water was provided for washing up, along with a warm cup of coca tea. We had thirty minutes to pack up before breakfast. Over breakfast, we talked about the ratio of porters and hikers. Hiking the Inca Trail may sound rustic, but the porters pampered us. Of course, there is still a gradient of comfort on the trail. Among the community of guides and porters, there is a legendary story about a wealthy couple from the Middle East who hiked the trail. If the story is to be believed, the pair had 37 porters and two guides traveling with them. Among the items carried up by partners are a queen-size mattress and a soaking tub. Their entourage also included two masseuses and a pastry chef. Kudos to the couple; they at least walked the trek all on their own. I would have thought they would hire horses or palanquins.

A high-elevation rainforest was unexpected.

Much to my disappointment, we woke up to an overcast sky. Jhon seemed confident that the sky would clear up in a few hours. Who was I to doubt his judgment, right? But as much as I would love to have a clear sky for photography, the overcast weather spared me the intense sun of the high Andes. This reminded me of my weather-related anxieties on Camino de Santiago. Sometimes, I let my desire for good photographic moments interfere with my enjoyment of travel experience. It is something I need to work on.

Porters began to pack up the campsite as soon as we finished our breakfast. Over breakfast, Jhon gave us a preview of what was ahead of us. Today’s section is considered the toughest section of the Inca Trail. The sole reason was the infamous Dead Woman’s Path (Warmiwañusqa). At 13,828 feet, the path is the highest point on the trail. It is an unrelenting five-hour climb to the top. What made it particularly difficult was the lack of oxygen at that altitude. By most estimations, the oxygen level is about a third less than at sea level. Although I was not particularly concerned with severe altitude sickness, I knew it would be a long slog uphill. I am destined to be the laggard of the group.

When tackling the steep trail, I was particularly impressed by the occasional teams of female porters. I did not know women could work as porters. According to regulations, female porters could each carry up to 15 kilograms, ten less than their male counterparts. Interestingly, their pay is the same as men. So, it does beg the question of why some tour operators might employ females on the trail. In a few instances, some chefs would bring their wives on the trail as kitchen assistants. Many men are keen to keep their women close.

A pair of female porters, with their brightly colored petticoats.

However, Jhon explained that most of them are widows. Because Peru is such a traditional and patriarchal society, widows often had a difficult time making ends meet. The Inca Trail proves to be a surprising source of employment. Naturally, female porters often work together in groups, and they all wear their traditional petticoats. These dresses are beautiful and unique to the individual. But I must say that the chauvinist within can’t help feeling wrong that these women, some a lot older than me, were carrying packs several times heavier than mine.

This first section of today’s trial was quite steep and scenic. We went through a temperate rainforest, where different species of mosses and lichens cover many trees. It was a sharp contrast to the dry desert-like landscape from yesterday. The scenery reminded me of the Hoh Rain Forest inside Olympic National Park. It seemed strange to come upon a rainforest at such a high altitude. I could appreciate the ecological diversity of the Inca Trail and why it is regarded as one of the best treks in the world.

About half an hour in, we stopped at the side of an inconspicuous-looking boulder. He pointed to a crack that measures about three or four inches at its widest point. This is one of the dozens of Inca burial sites on the trail; they are easy to miss to unsuspected hikers. Back in the day, the Incas either mummified or buried the dead. There are cliffside tombs around the Sacred Valley, often hanging high above the ground. It was jarring to see that there were still pieces of human bones nestled with the crack of this boulder. According to Jhon, there used to be a couple of skulls visible deep, but they have since been removed for conservation purposes. From this point forward, I started looking for any potential burial site.

With a grueling day ahead of me, Jhon suggested Chris press ahead. John would stay with me in the back. As much as I enjoyed Chris’s company, I did feel psychological pressure about keeping up with his pace. Otherwise, I don’t mind going at a slower pace. Unlike Camino de Santiago, the distance of each day’s stage is predetermined. There is no need to rush to the campsite each day. This is one piece of advice that our friends Ivy and Vince gave us beforehand. Because they are avid hikers, they found the Inca Trail to be “very easy”; they could complete each stage in just under four hours. While they recommend the trail in glowing terms, they admit they rushed each day’s trek without taking their time enjoying the scenery. Frankly, wouldn’t it be better to enjoy the varying views on the trail, rather than hours at a campsite?

It finally started to resemble the Inca Trail in my own imagination.

I secretly hoped there would be more hikers in our group so I wouldn’t be the slowest. Just like in life, I often love being in the middle of the pack and not sticking out too much. On the Inca Trail, one of the least talked about qualities in a guide is the ability to encourage struggling hikers. Jhon quickly reminded me that I was making good progress and there was no need to rush. I found myself taking a rest every five to ten minutes. Jhon would trail me by a few steps and use my rest period to discuss history, the environment, or his family. At no point did I feel rushed. Rather, I felt guilty for hogging so much of Jhon’s time.

After almost two hours of huffing and puffing, I arrived at Llullucha Pampa Campsite. This is approximately the halfway point to the Dead Woman’s Path. Amazingly, we learned this was where hikers with Alpacha Expeditions camped last night. I distinctly remembered that group, with the neon green pack covers, marched past our campground last night. I marveled at how many kilometers they had to cover on their first day. I wonder whether this may be the one way to lower the cost. I am so glad I picked a more laid-back operator.

Could you see the silhouette of a dead woman? I couldn’t.

As a campground, Llullucha Pampa is spectacular. Its vast expanse resembles an idyllic meadow filled with llamas and alpacas. We had a clear view of the Dead Woman’s Path from this spot. Interestingly, the pass did not get its name from an actual dead woman but from the silhouette of the mountain, which is supposed to resemble a profile of a woman lying down. I honestly couldn’t make out the said silhouette; I suppose one would need to stand at just the right spot to get that view. That said, I must admit the name is brilliant as it elicits a sense of dread among hikers.

As I stared at the past, I could see individual hikers standing far on the ridge. The thought of making this big climb took the wind out of me. Thankfully, Llullucha Pampa is a major resting spot for today’s stage. Ecoinka purposefully did not offer a lunch stop today. Instead, lunch will be provided at tonight’s campsite. Jhon told us this was a conscious decision. From their experience, a heavy could make it difficult to climb up the Dead Woman’s Path. Instead, the chef provided us a packed lunch with a sandwich, fruits, and chocolate. It gave us just enough fuel to start the ascend.

The drink stand of Llullucha Pampa campsite.

For hikers looking for indulgence, a group of entrepreneurial ladies set up a mobile stand filled with an impressive collection of drinks and snacks. This is our last chance to purchase something before getting to Machu Picchu. Besides your typical candies and sodas, they also sell a variety of beers. The bestseller seems to be Coca-Cola. The prices were very steep. I bought a bottle of Gatorade here for 20 soles, more than 5 dollars. I would not have spent that much on Gatorade if not for the fact that I lost my water bottle this morning. The campsite offers trash disposal, squad toilets, and sinks, even for those not purchasing everything.

After our packed lunch, I was ready to face the biggest challenge of the Inca Trail. Again, Jhon recommended Chris go ahead and wait for us at the top of the pass. This section of the trail is steep and unrelenting. For the next two hours, we were exposed to the intense sunlight of the Andes. It made quite a harsh environment. Despite the physical challenge, I found this section less emotionally stressful because I could gauge my progress more easily by just gazing up. It was far better than second-guessing myself.

This section upward may feel more exposed, but it also became the most communal part of the trail. I was glad to see that just about every foreigner struggled. It was even more surprising to see how many physically fit hikers had just as difficult a time as I did. It was reassuring that I was not alone in my own physical struggle. Even more surprisingly, most had the time to acclimate to the high altitude. For once, I did not feel too bad about myself; maybe I was not all that weak. I could do this! It was just the confidence boost I needed this afternoon.

Like most hikes I have been on, I got into the groove and found people most similar to my pace. A pair of father-daughter hikers from Britain was my Inca Trail buddy. It was sweet to learn that the dad took his young daughter on the Inca Trail; I could hardly think of a nicer bonding experience than this. They mentioned that they hiked Kilimanjaro just last year, and she found the Dead Woman’s Pass more difficult. I found it difficult to believe, considering Kilimanjaro is at a much higher altitude. That said, I could tell the girl was struggling and was pale like a ghost.

The final ten minutes of the ascend were just brutal.

The last stretch before the pass was difficult. I found myself taking a rest every two or three minutes. We could see Chris on the pass taking shirtless selfies. Since we were so close to the top, Jhon decided to meet him there, allowing me to pace myself without pressure. It was funny how Jhon flew past me in an instant. I had to remind myself that this was not a race and that I was doing the trek for my own enjoyment, not for the expectation of others. That said, I do wish Brian was here to share this struggle with me.

In the end, Chris waited nearly forty minutes for me. Reaching the Dead Woman’s Pass was a momentous experience for everyone on the trail. The view may not have changed dramatically in the last thirty minutes, but it was a psychological triumph nevertheless. Standing at the highest point along the trail, I felt all my anxieties about the trail dissipate. If I made it to this point, there is no doubt I could make it to Machu Picchu. I was grateful for Jhon's encouragement and the excellent weather thus far. Watching all the jubilant hikers taking selfies was half of the fun.

As I took in the beautiful scenery, Jhon spoke to us about all the ecological changes he had witnessed in the past twenty years. The retreat of the mountaintop snowpack in the past decade has been alarming; the amount of accumulated snow now is only half. As often is the case, the effect of climate change is most pronounced in rural areas. And it was the poorest community that was most affected. As rainfall decreased, local families began to seek pastures up the hill. That, in turn, led to desertification, landslides, and wildfires. And as if illustrating Jhon’s point, I spotted a wildfire in the distance.

As usual, I was never able to keep pace with Chris.

After twenty minutes of rest, we were ready to head down the pass toward the campsite. From Dead Woman’s Pass, it was downhill for the rest of the day. Ironically, going downhill was more challenging for Chris as he popped one of his knees a few weeks ago, fearing that a wrong step could spell disaster and end his Inca Trail journey. Even so, he still sprinted ahead of me quickly. After ten minutes, I could hardly spot him in the distance. While I agree that descending is more dangerous, it is less physically exhausting than the trail this morning. I was very grateful for my trekking poles. I had to remind myself to slow down and take in the scenery.

This was my favorite section of the Inca Trail thus far.

Dead Woman’s Pass functions as a dividing line between two microclimates. We had a crisp blue sky on one side and a misty wonderland on the other. The mist provides us with a welcomed respite from the intense sun. Everyone on the trail was giddy that the “worst” was behind us. Everything is going to be better from that point on. Maybe it was just in my own head, but everyone became more social and chatty. Along the way, I started chatting with a couple from Richland Hills, Texas: Brian and Jill. I found out that Brian and Jill lived in Russia for nearly a decade, and we overlapped my six-month stint in Moscow in 2011.

We quickly hit it off. We bonded over memories of Moscow and shared general interests in post-Soviet states. Given the recent war in Ukraine, I was eager to hear their perspective on Russia. They decided to walk the Inca Trail as their 20-year anniversary gift. It is one of the bucket list items they thought would be now or never. It was sweet to see them holding hands while walking the trail. It only just made me miss my Brian even more. It was interesting how closely I felt like we got to know so much about each other in a very short time.

This afternoon, my walk with Brian and Jill triggered many memories of the Camino, specifically the camaraderie among the hikers. As beautiful as the trail may be, it is often the people I met that made the most long-lasting impressions. Before I knew it, I could see the campsite in the distance. As much as I would like to get to lunch, I love this section of the trail. It is by far the most pleasant section because of the expansive vista. I also enjoy the Camino-esque quality with other hikers. And just like Camino, you never know whether we may see each other again.

After bidding goodbye to Brian and Jill, I arrived at Pacaymayo Campsite. It is located in the valley between the two major passes of the Inca Trail, making it a practical spot to spend a night. It was already three o’clock by the time I dragged myself into camp. Chris had arrived about half an hour ago, and everyone was waiting to get the lunch service going. After a long day, a bowl of noodle soup was just divine. But the highlight of the meal was mango ceviche. In my own ignorance, I did not realize that vegan ceviche was a thing. It was such a pleasant surprise.

Of the three campsites we stayed at on the Inca Trail, this one is the largest and the most developed. Based on my observation, there were nine different camping areas; our group took the highest in the entire complex. After lunch, our first order of business at camp was to take advantage of the cap’s shower facility. According to Jhon, this facility is one of the few infrastructure upgrades the government has done in the last few years. However, it was imperfect, as the facility is poorly maintained and lacks the basics, such as toilet seats. With no attendant on duty, the facility is only cleaned once daily and gets progressively nastier as the day progresses. By the time I got around, it was already a disaster.

Naturally, there was only a cold shower available. It is always a big debate among trekkers whether it is better to skip it. In the end, all three of us took the shower, which was a worthwhile endeavor. Nothing is better than a shower, even if it is a dropping of glacial cold water. I am not sure just how clean I got, but it is more of a psychological “cleansing” that I craved. Outside the shower facility, I ran into a Lithuanian-Polish couple from Chicago. We quickly started a conversation, and I learned we went to the same college. We quickly hit it off and discussed everything from the Inca Trail to European politics. We must have talked for two hours until Jhon came to get me for dinner.

It was a little odd having dinner so soon after our lunch. Over dinner, we inevitably began talking about the level of infrastructure on the trail. Peruvian government adopted a “leave-no-trace” approach for the Inca Trail. In practice, that means everything we need on the trail has to be carried in and out each day, which is extremely inefficient given the number of tourists going through the trail daily. Instead of having a team of porters carrying a portable kitchen and all the tents between campsites, it makes local sense for the government to set up a permanent cooking station and small cabins at each official campsite. I suspect the current system of porters is too important of a source of employment for the local community to be changed.

As we were about to call it a night, we spotted a handful of hikers in the distance, making their way down from the Dead Woman’s Pass. I could only imagine the terror and mystery of hiking in the darkness. Whoever they are, I must applaud them for their perseverance. I can’t help thinking it could have been Brian and me, perhaps?

Inca Trail: Day 3 - Huayllabamba - Pacaymayo

Inca Trail: Day 4 - Pacaymayo - Puyupatamarca

Inca Trail: Day 2 - Piscacucho - Huayllabamba