The Alternative to Inca Trail
Whether for conservation or economic reasons, or both,
the Inca Trail is no more the adventure it used to be. Overcrowded
and strictly controlled, it pushes travellers to look for
an alternative. Some do so because of overbookings. Others
– because the Trail in its current state no more satisfies
their adventure spirit. For the adventurous, such alternative
trail does exist.
It isn’t lined with Inca stones, it is a rough mountain
path, but in many ways it takes you to a much deeper, more
real Peru. You may not see ruins three times a day but you
go through two magnificent lost cities and some genuine
untouched Quechua villages, not to mention the most incredible
mountain views. What’s more – this trail is
not for everyone, it is for those who can take it.
The trail takes you from Cachora village (three quarters
of the way from Cuzco to Abancay), through the lost city
of Choquequirao and the Vilcambamba mountain range to the
village of Santa Teresa and from there to Machu Picchu.
It takes 7 to 8 days to complete, depending on your preferences.
You will need to hire a guide in Cachora – a small
village on the way to Abancay. It is very basic but it will
have all the provisions you need, just make sure you come
with enough cash, as there will be nowhere to get it. Also
advisable is a mule for your backpacks, and one for riding
if you are not a strong walker.
Days 1-3: The Road to Choquequirao
The first leg of the trail was to get to Choquequirao,
another lost Inca city in the vicinity. Largely unknown,
it is a real treat for an adventurous trekker. I have already
written upon it in the “Choquequirao – the Real
Lost City of the Inca” article on this site.
Day 4: The Big Push
Day 4 is when the real adventure starts. No matter how
unknown Choquequirao still is, it is more or less a known
route. That morning, however, we dived into the bushes off
the terraces of the ruins and began our steep ascent into
the unknown. Climbing up large boulders, wet from the arid
forest at around 3500m altitude was an affair requiring
sharpness of mind and body – with a 2 day walk to
the nearest hospital. In about 2 hours we finally battled
our way through thick bush to see the amazing panorama of
the range and the valley below. Now it was a schizophrenic
zigzag down to the valley.
Hopping over the stones to cross that valley river at the
bottom, you just couldn’t help wondering if anyone
ever passes that way. It was the primordial wilderness.
Another steep 3 hour ascent and we reached our station
– a lonely hut with a roof full of corn cobs and the
floor full of guinea pigs. The Quechua woman kindly cooked
us dinner. Her husband had gone shopping – he would
be back in 6 days time.
We also had a new member of the expedition. A small dog
followed us from Choquequirao, as if she knew us all her
life. She stayed with us for the rest of the trek. She was
a real traveller, an easy-going little soul.
Day 5: The Other Side
The morning started with a 2-3 hour steep ascent, higher
and higher, until the vegetation vanished and we fought
the path amongst rocks and boulders. The vastness of space,
top of the world, only the wind. We reached 4000m and the
altitude was becoming apparent. Short rests every 100 metres.
There was no more food until the night station. We shared
the last tin of sardines and headed for the white light
at the top of the ridge. It was obvious we were just about
to cross… something…somewhere. Some kind of
salvation.
That mountain pass was unforgettable. A border point between
the known and the unknown. No matter how lost Choquequirao
was, everything behind us was known, it was informed backpacking.
For the last 4 days we saw the same view, only from different
angles and in different corners. Now we have reached the
edge of that view. This now was the second instalment, a
whole new package. Everything was different, everything:
the shapes, the colours, the path, the light, the air. It
was the second wind, the re-birth. From now on we are on
The Other Side.
On descent into the valley the path turned into a wide
road practically etched into the face of the mountain wall.
The spring came again – the flowers, the insects,
the birds. We regained our joy. I took the t-shirt off and
burned within an hour – a mistake I was to regret
on Day 7.
2 hours later we were in the valley, approaching the village.
It was a different world, locked away from the rest of the
planet. Everything there was in slow motion, time had stopped.
The people were quietly surprised to see us. They did not
attempt to meet us, nor were they unfriendly. It simply
seemed an odd thought that our two worlds would ever come
into contact.
We headed straight for the shop and ate a whole box of
chocolate. That night we camped by the river on a vast field,
under the brightest stars ever. I had never seen a sky like
that, so close to my face.
Day 6: The Grim
Pure grim, or maybe we were just tired. We barely talked
to each other. Unforgiving zigzags up and down cramped claustrophobic
corridors for the first half of the day, on steep irregular
rocks. The sky was dark and it was showering all day, occasionally
breaking into strong rain. No emotions, just get it over
and done with. The mountains seemed angry.
Then we went through a settlement. It was a large one (perhaps
400-500 people) and extremely spread out. But since it was
raining we met almost no one. A ghost village. Victor pointed
out a hospital, the only one in these mountains. I thought
of the woman who hosted us on the fourth night. If she is
unwell, she has to walk for at least a day or two to get
help.
We camped right at the edge of the village. The owner of
the field had his wife cook us dinner – the best fried
potatoes I had ever tasted. Wet, worn out, covered in mud,
stinking with 6 days of the trek, with numbed brains and
full stomachs, we just wanted this day to be over and crawled
into our tents.
Day 7: The Finest Hour
No one could have guessed how this day would turn out.
It was a leisurely walk for an hour along the edge of the
valley, with a solid wall of mountains on the left. It was
green and warm. Out dog chased sheep.
Finally, the valley ended and we began ascending. Once
again, the vegetation vanished and it got dark. Soon we
found ourselves in snow. The wind, blowing over the pass,
created a mini-blizzard. It was a harsh colour scheme of
black and white. The pass was barely noticeable through
the white flakes. We were now at 5000m.
At the top of the pass we came across an apachita –
a small column of flat stones. The Quechua put a stone there
every time they pass to appease the gods of the mountains.
They also believe that if you bring a stone from far away,
leaving it on the apachita relieves you of a burden.
Two hours later, after a sharp descent, we were in the
Santa Teresa valley. We had cleared a good 4000m of altitude
in that time. Walking in the lush, tropical vegetation on
the bank of a playful river, bathing in joyful sunshine,
surrounded by all forms of life, it was so hard to believe
that two hours earlier we were making our way through bold
rocks and a blizzard. We’ve come back to sinful, cheeky
Earth, with all Her diversity, joys and sorrows.
We came across a hut, where a smiling friendly woman sold
us some tropical fruits to enjoy. Plastered out in sunshine
by the river I was savouring the music of life so different
to the silence of the mountains.
Down in the valley, it was a two days walk, but since it
was all the same landscape from now on we took a truck to
Santa Teresa. There is nothing like riding a truck after
6 days of wilderness. It seems like the height of civilisation.
In Santa Teresa it turned out that Machu Picchu was 3-4
hours away, we just had to follow the railroad. However,
we only had 2 hours of daylight left and no mules for the
backpacks, since we have let our guide go back.
We had a frustrated beer in a bar and came up with something
really bloody clever – let’s just go anyway.
The trail went along the river, it was anything but easy
– still ups and downs, though short, with the backpack
digging into my burnt shoulders. We didn’t even clear
half of the way before the darkness fell. At 8 PM we reached
a dead-end. There had been a landslide and the trail was
destroyed. A sign warned us that beyond lies extreme danger.
We hesitated. Walk in the dark for three hours more just
to get back where we started?
So we stepped beyond the sign. It was pitch-black. A tilted
field of loose rocks sliding from underneath our feet into
oblivion below. One wrong step and you slide with them –
over a 20 metre drop. Only one free hand (flash-light in
the other one) and 22kg on the back. After some very close
encounters with the Grim Reaper we decided not to tempt
fate any more.
We got back to the end of the path. It was now 10 PM. There
wasn’t even anywhere to camp, and it wasn’t
the safest thing to do anyway. But Gods heard our pleas.
A campesino, carrying a sack of bananas appeared on the
path. He was happy for us to follow him. Our gratitude had
no limits.
The way over the landslide turned out to be much higher
than we thought – as you would expect when a bunch
of rocks falls over a path. Still very risky and narrow
in places, it was bearable. Half an hour later we reached
the rail tracks.
It wasn’t over yet. Two more hours on the train tracks.
Not the easiest surface. Finally, the camping ground below
Machu Pichu. We collapsed as soon as we entered. It was
1 AM and we started the day at 7 AM. We had walked a total
of 15 hours, mostly over rough terrain, 8 of those with
backpacks, and 2 of those in the extreme conditions of the
landslide.
I wouldn’t swap this trek for three Inca Trails.
There were no ruins on our trek, but we camped at a lost
city. There were no Inca Steps, but we walked the genuine
trails of the Quechua. We submerged into lost villages,
we saw the hearts of the mountains and we flew to snowy
5000m. And the sight of Machu Picchu was that much sweeter.
Note: make sure you are accustomed to the altitude, you
are reasonably fit, you do not need medical facilities,
you are properly equipped with warm stuff for the extremely
cold nights and very good boots – there is no hospital
for days.
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Alex is the webmaster of
Valencia City Guide - an independent resource on travelling
in Valencia, Spain.
Rainbow at Choquequirao
Photos and text copyrighted by Vacations-Abroad.com
