Macho Machu Picchu

Wednesday, October 8th, 2008

Day 101 on The Big Trip. “Up, Up, and Away!”
THREE A.M. strikes my forehead with a huge pine tree and no warning “timberrrrr”. I get first shower and organize everything we need for the day: snacks, snacks, water bottles, layers of clothes, electrolyte drinks, and a camera the battery of which is charging. The shower is cold. I can get it warm, but only if it is trickling out of the showerhead so that the cold air that sneaks through the bathroom window makes me just as cold as when there is more water at a colder temperature. Oh, bother. I hurry and dry off and put all of my clothes on, including my fleece and favorite insulating layer (my red Arc’Teryx Solo Jacket). I then put on some non-cotton socks, my damplike shoes, plastic bags, and skimpy poncho. Time for breakfast!

ANGEL CHOKO and granola con miel (with honey) mixed with strawberry yogurt…mm mm! By the way, Angel Choko is the name of the crunchy chocolate balls of cereal. Alisa sees me shivering in my layers of clothing and decides the shower is not for her. She takes a picture of me looking very silly, all wrapped up in plastic with my Seattle biking pants on (rainproof pants). We load up our CaseLogic daypack with everything we desire and put it on under my poncho, lock the Osprey Porter 46 that now contains our computers that we will leave behind in our hostel room, and walk down the stairs to leave the hostel.

FREAKY POSTURE is the name I give the tale depicting our attempt to get hot water for mate de coca on the morning of our Machu Picchu ascent. Because remembering this brief anecdote drudges up an unsettling image, I will make this short. Alisa wanted hot tea so she went downstairs in the hostel to the kitchen and reception area to find out how she could get some. She returned to the room without any hot water or mugs and asked me if I could go downstairs and try to wake up the person sleeping in the standing up position in the kitchen to see if we could get some hot water. After trying to wake him up by flicking the lights, saying, “Hola, buenas dias,” and even prodding him, I’m not sure what I will do differently, but I’m forced to try since Alisa really wants hot tea before this early departure and supposedly grueling trek.

RELUCTANT, I head downstairs, anxious to get on the way for Machu Picchu because I know that it’s a popular destination and that out of the many people going, a bunch will be certain to head out early to arrive first! I’d like us to be that bunch, hence the 3am wakeup and 4am departure for an expected 1 ½ hour hike up to the Machu Picchu entrance. It is also given that the first bus leaves at 5:25am and takes about 30 minutes to reach the top of its winding road, just before the gates open at 6am. Downstairs, the kitchen door is closed, all lights are off, and the front door is locked. I knock on the kitchen door. Nothing. I open the door. Here’s the freaky posture: man standing with light coming in slanted over his body from the kitchen window, his head leaning on his bent arms on the counter such that his body is arched. The posture is maintained even though the light shows that the constant dripping noise has left his entire left leg and left shoe drenched. How is this man sleeping? He must be sleeping through neumonia. I try everything Alisa tried, short of getting close enough to prod him; I stay in the doorway. I click my hands; I clap my hands. Nothing. Freaked out, I return unsuccessful to Alisa and our room. She understands and we get everything ready to leave.

WAKE UP, El Tumi hostel! Wake up! We need to leave and the front door is locked! We knock on another door near the would-be-entrance and a shadow figure emerges through the wavy grey glass window in the door. The shadow opens the door and pokes his head out enough to tell us to ring the bell. We’ve tried that. A lot. It doesn’t work. He shuts the door and comes out again, enters the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. A few seconds later and he comes out with someone else who is dry and has both normal posture and the key to the door.

FREEDOM AT FOUR AM: in Aguas Calientes, from Aguas Calientes, pertaining to us. We have spent too much time in this town for what it offers aside from access to the obvious masterpiece of Machu Picchu. I am very excited to be walking. It’s still dark out. One store is open and the man offers us water. We have water, thanks!

SECURITY guard stirs in his seat, and nods back at me, probably half asleep with that blanket. We walk on down the steep, the narrow, the well-watered street, the click of rain on the shops metal and plastic awnings ushering us onwards to the

PLAZA DE ARMAS, where a man is curled up and asleep on a bench. Every town in South America has a Plaza de Armas, however, whereas most are the centerpiece of the town, the showcase and go-to place with benches on all sides, Aguas Calientes’ differs. It seems to still be under construction but not construction that will provide views, a more central location, or a decent place to gather or relax. I feel as though the man sleeping on the bench in the three-day drizzle at four a.m. captures this part of our journey up to Machu Picchu, so I snap a photo of him in the dark as I look back.

RAILROAD TRACKS go right; we go across, now on the portion of the path to Machu Picchu that buses and humans both use. Only at a few minutes past four in the morning, humans have it to themselves, and their headlamps. We pass the luxurious hotels closest to the line of parked buses that heave and churn tourists up and down the road as long as daylight persists. The roar of Rio Urubamba is beside us for much of this even dirt road trek. I assume the river is there, too, even though I can only hear it through the rain on my poncho. Past the buses there are wedded bridges standing side by side. Tempted by the staircase on our side of the bridges, we decide to cross them instead, and thankfully so.

BIENVENIDOS A MACHUPICCHU the sign reads. I wonder where the other stairs would have misled us to. Knowing that the hike to Machu Picchu is up, we turn up the road and soon find our first “flight” of stairs. Up we go. One foot in front of the other. It’s still raining. We get out an Electrolyte drink – the strong version of Gatorade – and begin chipping away at it, believing that we cannot bring it into the site.

UP AND DOWN arrows are found at the top and bottom of each series of winding stairs. I didn’t expect the hike up to Machu Picchu from Aguas Calientes to be a) this dark, b) this well marked, c) this full of stairs and flat dirt roads, and d) this wet. We have to watch our breathing since this is a lot of hiking and the altitude is noticeable when you try and run or jog. The plastic bags on our feet ripped to dog ear flaps long ago and our feet notice the humidity change. The view from any normal vista on the stair-hike is mostly thick white clouds, tangible foliage 10 feet away, and some mountain edges that somehow poke through. It’s impossible not to wonder how amazing it will be when it begins to unveil itself!

FIVE THIRTY greets us at the top of the stairs, at the entrance to Machu Picchu. There are three Aussies there already. We find out they left at 3:30 in the morning, without headlamps or flashlights and that they followed the train tracks instead of the road to reach the bridge and the stairs! Oh well. We weren’t first, but we were 4th and 5th! I’m happy with that! We park ourselves on a covered picnic bench so we can shed wet layers for a moment to snack on our bread and Electrolyte.

FIVE FIFTY came round the bend, puffing smoke out the side, popping ponchos of all different colors with fresh smiles and walking sticks and full water bottles, ready to go. A group of fifteen or so hikers also make it up the stairs and get in line ahead of the three Aussies, and ahead of Alisa and me. The five of us realize that we should get in line before all of the buses chug-a-lug ahead of us, too!

OPEN SESAME! The first few ponchos scurry through the turnstyle into the bygone city. We realize they’re requiring passports with the tickets, so I quickly snatch them out of our bag and we’re checked to go…go…go! We’re walking like racewalkers who can’t bear walking anymore in the Olympics years ago, breaking into a run! We want to be the first ones in line for climbing Waynapicchu. Here's the first of two videos uploaded to youtube.com that capture Alisa running through the maze that is cloudy, 6am Machu Picchu:




WAYNAPICCHU is the large mountain near Machu Picchu that sports hefty stair-climbing, some ruins of its own, and of course some spectacular views of Machu Picchu. The trick of it is this: only the first 400 people to arrive in line for Waynapicchu get to go: 200 at 7am, and 200 at 10am. The other trick is this: the line for Waynapicchu is at the other end of the Machu Picchu maze! So here we go, running this way and that, following fast directions on the go from workers at the site, and heading off in that direction! I whip out the camera and film Alisa running ahead of me in the early morning when Machu Picchu is in a puffy cloud such that the only things you can see are the ground, the better than desultory remnants of buildings, and the alpacas grazing around them! If we looked back we would have seen all of the tourists swarming, but since we ran and since we were first, we must have been nearly the only ones to have pictures of just us and Machu Picchu! What a go of it!

WRONG WAY apparently. Oh no! Where did we go wrong? We had climbed a ladder and found what seemed to be the ceremonial rock – which I would love to have been allowed to boulder – and the alpaca-only area! Luckily we spot a fellow who had been so kind as to take a picture of us before we rushed off ahead, and he hollers for us to turn around and catch up! So we do!

THIS WAY and that we go, catching up and surpassing him and the other group of tourists who had discourteously hopped in front of us before 6am.

PHEW!!! We’re first in line! First two! “We’re not only going to be able to go up to Waynapicchu, we’ll be the first ones,” I whisper to Alisa, obviously extremely excited about this. Before we can go we have to wait until 7am when the gate for Waynapicchu opens. When the employees arrive and start going through the line, they ask everyone if they would like to go at 7am or 10am. Almost everyone behind us seem to get their 1-200 number stapled on their ticket, and head back to Machu Picchu until 10am!

EGOTRIPPING, I was. But when you reach the top of Waynapicchu after following paths and narrow stairs and eroding slopes and little crouch-tactic-requiring tunnels under rocks, you’d get why I was egotripping, and tripping over my shoelaces to reach the top!

WHITENESS blocks our views of the mountains that we know surround us, the valleys that we know are below us, and each other when we walk too far apart! We wonder whether we will have a view of Machu Picchu at all when we reach the top. Given the weather patterns that we noticed in nearby Aguas Calientes, I am guessing that the clouds will avert once the sun pops up, although who can tell for how long. Just yesterday, the sun was only out for a few hours! Either way, with the snacks and water we have, I am prepared to sit it out at the top of Waynapicchu until we can see Machu Picchu, and then we can head back and explore the actual site!

THE TOP is ours, as is a humble picnic on the boulder that sees all. We pop out the Luna bars that dad sent me to South America with. So far, now Machu Picchu. However, there is a lovely rainbow welcoming us! Little did he know, that if he’d planted a camera in one of them, he could’ve shared Machu Picchu with us from the moon. That’s really

WHY I wanted to climb Waynapicchu more than actually being at the site of Machu Picchu. That is, for me going to moon’s greatest result wasn’t really being on the moon, or taking that first step on the moon, or working out all of the logistics and contingency plans. Going to the moon’s greatest result was looking back. When they turned around and saw the Earth as a body, swimming in clouds, resting in the universe. Waynapicchu gave me that entirety of Machu Picchu that I couldn’t quite grasp from within its walls. It was nice on the top of Waynapicchu. We saw clouds rolling over distant mountains on the other side of Machu Picchu, and finally some wisped away part of the valley and the river that runs through it. With the clouds of changing pace and changing directions, different weights and different half-lifes, parts of Machu Picchu begin to appear. We start taking pictures and taking notes of what’s what in Machu Picchu. Is that the western urban area? That must be the guardhouse and then that’s the ceremonial rock we ran by on our wrong way! There are the steppes for agriculture!


THE STEPS in these cultures are ingenious. They don’t waste space at all. Each step is formed from the wall of rocks by a larger rock sticking out into space. Diagonally up an over from the first step will be the second, another rock with a flat top, sticking out enough for two feet to land on it, and so on until the top where food was planted. That way no land was wasted for stairs instead of crops!

A FEW HOURS on top of Waynapicchu is enough for us. The ten a.m. 200 people will soon be shuffling upwards, taking away our private enjoyment of it all. So we’re ready to head on to our next view. Although the skies between one land mass and another never really entirely cleared, we saw what we came to see. And perhaps even more magical it was, thanks to the clouds, and thanks to the possibility of seeing Machu Picchu only existing at the top of Waynapicchu and not on the hike up!

NEXT UP is Huchuypicchu, the younger brother to Waynapicchu – or should I say shorter brother, Sean? We tackle Huchuypicchu on the way back to Machu Picchu. It’s a quick hike and gives us a much closer – and still aerial – view of the magnificent city. From here we put on our warm jackets, record a Vlog entry, eat and drink more, and rest a bit. From high above, we see an alpaca rolling around on the ground like a dog might in mud. We get a good laugh out of that, then we wonder how many poncho-wearing, guide-following Machu-picchuers might be looking at us looking down at them. It seems that we have been lucky to choose this “bad-weather” day for our Machu Picchu trip. Consider the following: fewer people go to MP on “bad-weather” days; yesterday was the train and bus strike and as such, fewer people will make it to MP; it’s off-season for traveling and yes, even for MP! Looking out over the site, I think it’s pretty crowded. But then I remember these considerations and see that there can’t be more than 300 people at MP itself at the moment. For MP, that’s nothing!

MACHU PICCHU is nice to just roam around, especially after seeing it from afar since now we have a better sense of where we are in the city at any given time. I’m really inspired by the construction of these walls and houses and steps. Some rooms use a large boulder as the wall – maybe in Patagonia I can learn how to build my own house and I’ll try and use a boulder as a wall, that way I can wake up and boulder in my living room to get to the lounge upstairs! Well, we’ll see!

WEARINESS is sinking into Alisa as she keeps saying that she’s aching and worn out, not to mention damp and tired from waking up at 3am and exerting so much energy that NASA wouldn’t know what to do with it. After hiking up to Machu Picchu and Waynapicchu and Huchuypicchu, I’m excited and ready for more even though I’m tired and damp as well. So on the one hand, I really want to climb the highest mountain of them all: Montaña Machupicchu. On the other hand, Alisa does not feel up to it. We sit at the bottom of the trailhead up Montaña Machupicchu and rest, considering our options. There is also a much shorter, much easier paved path that leads to the sun gate of Machu Picchu. Since this would be our easiest ascent of the day, Alisa thinks it should go last. We consider the option that leaves Alisa at Machu Picchu and lets me run up and down the mountain, but staying together and taking it easy overrides that option, so we start up.

HALFWAY there, Alisa’s body tells her to stop. We find a block of rock for a seat and she waits there while I start running. It’s not long before two things happen: 1) I’m out of breath and need to alternate jogging and walking fast, and 2) it starts pouring.

LUCKILY I left my poncho with Alisa, so I just get drenched. Free wash!

22 MINUTES later I finally reach the top; it’s still pouring and clouds mask the new perspective of Machu Picchu and the two brother mountains we climbed earlier: Huchuy- and Wayna-picchu. I can see them, but don’t think the camera can. Just in case, I film myself on the edge of the mountain and the ocean of clouds, pointing out the city and its guard dog mountains.

JUMPING and running down these funky stairs is much quicker than going up. I have to blink every few jumps because of the rain that accumulates on my eyelids. I can tell that my legs are tired, but I trust them still and slow down at any slightly sketchy or precarious part. I arrive back with Alisa, who has put on my poncho over her rain jacket and is accompanied by an employee at MP. We say goodbye to him, and start down to MP. Alisa is definitely not doing well, and we think that it must be the weather and altitude sickness. It’s clear that our day should be done, so we march back through parts of MP to exit.

EXITING MP means navigating tourists who don’t follow the “Stay right except to pass” rule, which is more of a car thing to do, anyway. Outside of the MP entrance gate there is a huge line for the bus back down to Aguas Calientes. Which, by the way, costs US$7. Too pricey for us. Alisa needs the bathroom. We try and make our way past the line to get to the public bathroom at the bottom of a set of steps crowded over with bus-takers. A man is in Alisa’s way, so she says, “Excuse me, I’m not cutting, I need to use the bathroom, can you let me by?” The man just turns around and doesn’t budge. Thankfully this man had a wife who pulled him out of the way, nearly scolding him for not doing so. We run by, puzzled by this silliness, and gain shelter from the rain while Alisa hits the ladies room and I snack on yet another chocolate covered bar.

FOOD TALLY for the post-breakfast day is amazingly atrocious, check it out: 3 Luna bars, 1 Clif bar (thanks dad!), 2 Golpes (Twix meets cereal bar), 2 Choco Sodas (chocolate swallows saltine cracker), 6 Chocodas (Hydrox ripoff, just like Oreos), and 3 pieces of bread. This couldn’t have helped anything that caused Alisa’s oncoming sickness. Thankfully, I have a bit of a sweet tooth and was feeling stupendous after the treats and the hiking.

2000 more stairs await us. Since the stairs cut straight down through the winding bus road, occasionally we see full buses going down and near-empty buses headed up – some of them honk when I wave. Back in town, we get to our hostel and start hanging up our soaked things to dry. I want to make sure Alisa gets some good food, so we head to the nicer restaurants in town, which abide by the railroad tracks.

THOUGH decent, the food doesn’t agree with Alisa’s sickness, as she heads past the fireplace to the bathroom. Today is turning epic! We have to leave the restaurant for the hostel, where Alisa tries resting.

NOPE. I run downstairs and ask the receptionist where the nearest pharmacy is and follow his directions. After describing Alisa’s symptoms (fever, vomiting, tiredness, and sensitive skin) and telling the pharmacist what we did today (hiking, altitude, wet weather, insufficient food) I pick up some meds for 24 soles ($8) that should curb her sickness! Excited that I can now speak half-confidently and half-sufficiently in Spanish for these purposes, and bummed that it takes Alisa being sick to inspire this, I head back to the hostel, thinking that all of this will help Alisa get better and soon!

NOPE. Alisa’s fever spikes and I walk down the stairs of El Tumi Hostel once again to the reception desk. This time, I ask him to call the doctor and also ask how much I should expect it to cost. The doctor will be on his way, and it should cost 150 soles. “150 soles?” I repeat. Or 40 or 50 he says, depending on the medicine and the examination. OK, I say. At least this will help Alisa get better.

DOCTORS 1 and 2 arrive. They are like Batman and Robin. One does the talking and almost manages to hide the fact that he understands English. The other one practices being a statue. They give Alisa a big bottle of strawberry flavored electrolytes. They give Alisa 8 hours in which to consume the entire bottle. They charge us $65 dollars. We get a receipt for Alisa’s insurance. Goodbye. Thank you. Hopefully in the morning Alisa will feel much better, especially since we have already bought expensive train tickets back to Ollaytaytambo that leaves at 9:30am. Also, we don’t want to spend any more time in Aguas Calientes! It’s kind of dreary all on its own, let alone when compared with the Machu Picchu experience! (Don't worry about Alisa - She's doing great now!)

WHAT a day!