Peru – The Salkantay Trek – Day Two
Today the hardest part of the whole trek lay ahead of me. The wake-up call was set for 5:30, and after a hearty breakfast we headed up towards the pass. The surrounding landscape was sleepily waking from its slumber, and although the morning greeted us with a beautiful view of Salkantay, the mountains soon wrapped themselves in cloudy mists and revealed their beauty only in fleeting glimpses.
Horses and llamas grazed around us, and the mountain streams, filled to the brim with glacial meltwater, roared swiftly down into the valley while we moved slowly in the opposite direction. From the base camp at 3,870 metres above sea level we made our way up towards the mountain saddle. The narrow path wound alongside little brooks, and even though we had climbed above 4,000 metres, the surrounding landscape was still mostly green and lush.
Although clouds occasionally chased across the sky around us, I have to say we were incredibly lucky with the weather. Tackling this stretch in a gale, rain or a snowstorm is something I really would not have wanted. I also had plenty of chances to photograph the gorgeous surrounding scenery. The oxygen was thinning, and with it our climb slowed a little too. After about two hours of walking, part of the group, accompanied by horses, caught up with us. Riding on the backs of these small, sturdy horses, two women from our group passed us as well; they had been hit harder by altitude sickness the day before and so were riding part of the way today.
Because I too was worried about how an altitude of around 5,000 metres would affect me, from the morning I kept a small wad of coca leaves in my mouth, replacing it regularly every half hour. The effects of this plant feel roughly like drinking several cups of strong coffee, but above all, throughout the whole day at this altitude I got no headache and suffered no nausea. The Peruvians rattled off about a hundred different ailments that chewing coca supposedly helps with, but I was happy enough that it worked against altitude sickness.
At around 4,400 metres the grass slowly began to thin out, and the ground we were climbing over was now entirely rocky. The scenery around us was so beautiful that the miles flew by. Around 11:00 we reached a place called Pampa Japonesa at 4,600 metres. There, once again, the absurdity of today's mass tourism showed itself, because our guides had already pitched a tent for us there, a sort of little dining room with lunch cooked and waiting. I can't help it, but in situations like this I really feel strange. As if I couldn't carry some food for the journey in my backpack and eat it here perched on a rock. Oh well, we simply had a lavish lunch laid out for us here.
During lunch I set up a time-lapse of the rolling clouds, which now completely covered the main Salkantay massif, hiding it from our view. Once we had finished eating, part of the group set off at a slow pace towards the saddle, while I and the second little group took a bit of a detour around Lake Ancascocha. It had an absolutely incredible blue-green colour, milky and as if clouded. Another, smaller pond had water that was completely ferrous, its colour shifting from rusty brown to shades of green.
According to the map we had been given by the agency, the Incachirisca saddle was supposed to be at 5,100 metres above sea level. My watch measured only 4,950 here, but let's round it off to a compromise of 5,000. At this altitude the oxygen concentration is only half of what it is at sea level, and it was already quite noticeable in my breathing. At the highest point of the route there was of course a big photo session. Our little group then slowly began the descent towards the second camp, but I stayed sitting there for quite a long while with a few fellow travellers. I photographed and filmed, and Salkantay rewarded me with a brief moment when its peaks revealed themselves in all their glory. That was a moment I simply had to wait for.
Now all that lay ahead of me was a few hours of descent to the second camp at 4,200 metres. Beyond the mountain saddle the landscape turned dramatic for a while; the cliffs suddenly lacked any snow cover and glowered at us in a very dark colour. Some were almost black. The water in the streams had also changed to a murky brown, as the sun beat down on the glacier and melted an even greater volume of water. But before long we were back among grassy vegetation, walking literally across a carpet of lichen and moss.
It was almost dusk by the time we reached the second camp, where the tents and dining tent had already been set up for us. I had been really looking forward to this night, because sleeping in a tent at 4,200 metres above sea level is not something you get to do every day. I unpacked my down sleeping bag, since the temperature would surely drop below zero overnight, and then quickly went for a walk around the camp with my camera in hand.
After that all that awaited us was a big dinner, chatting around a single table and a little sipping of the local pisco liquor and drops of whisky that some of us had carried up from civilisation. Worn out after a demanding day, though, everyone quickly "slipped away" into their tents to dream of today's great adventure. Through the night Salkantay watched over us from above, and in front of the tent our little dog Bengee, who had walked with us all day today, kept guard. As for what the third day of the trek was like, when we first reached the Inca ruins, you will have to wait a bit longer. I will tell you about that in the next article.