Inca Trail-Day One, Part One

Ted at the start of the trail in Piscacucho.

The Inca Trail runs from the Sacred Valley to the lost Incan city of Machu Picchu. It was part of a network of trails that covered the Incan Empire, which stretched over an area from Southern Columbia to Northern Chile at it's peak before the arrival of the Spanish.

A "Happy Strawberry" has a nice view of the road as we get closer to our starting point on the trail.

We were picked up at 6:00 AM from our hostel for the 2.5 hour drive from Cuzco to Piscacuchu with a brief stop in Ollantaytambo to pick up a few provisions including bamboo walking sticks, plastic rain ponchos and coca leaves.

You must have a permit to hike the Inca Trail and the best way to obtain one is to book a guided trip through a travel company that specializes in doing so. They are all over Cuzco but they are not all alike. The government restricts the trail to 500 trekkers per day and of those 500, 300 are porters. It is suggested that you book your trip months in advance and we were lucky to go when we wanted to in late March. April and May at least were already booked.

Breakfast was our first meal just before we headed out on the trail.

A couple of adjustments for Ted's pack.

And we're off.

There are several checkpoints along the trail and you have to check in at least once per day. The porters check in separately at the start of the trail to insure that they aren't carrying more than 25 kg (about 55 lbs), one of the regulations instituted in 2001 to prevent abuse of porters and protect their health.

Our first checkpoint.

The Urubamba River, which will ultimately become the Amazon River, flows past Piscacuchu.

Just past the first checkpoint, we crossed over the Urubamba and onto the trail.

A close up of Ted, Joette & Megan crossing the bridge. Our own "Abbey Road" moment.

At about 8,500 feet in elevation, the Urubamba flows pretty rapidly.

A look back at the bridge and checkpoint.

A train passes in front of Qhanabamba, a small Inca complex.

We stopped at a village named Miscaig for a break.

Rush hour in Miscaig.

At the bridge over the Huayabamba River

Getting to Peru

Based on the recent experiences of friends and relatives as well as myself, I'd have to say that the US airline industry is have some troubles.

On my recent trip to Ireland, chronicled at http://www.micksreturn.blogspot.com/, my brother Joe spent 81 of 250 total trip hours getting to and from Ireland from Portland, Oregon, spending three nights in different airports. They do say, however, that half the fun is in the journey, so maybe he got shortchanged. You'd have to ask him.

The trip to Peru started with my wife, Joette, and our two kids, Megan and Ted, arriving in Peru in early March for three weeks of intensive study of Spanish and immersing themselves in both the language and the Peruvian culture.

The trip would have them fly through Atlanta, Miami, and Lima before finally landing in the old Andean mountain city of Cuzco, Peru. This long day's journey would be made considerably longer due to a paperwork error involving the fueling records of the Atlanta to Miami flight, causing a two hour delay and a missed connection in Miami. This little mishap would force Joette and the kids to pick a nice, comfy spot in Miami airport to sleep with their luggage, then reroute them through Panama, then to Lima where they would eventually get a hotel before leaving on the final leg from Lima at 6:00 AM. A mere 42 hours after their start, they would arrive at their final destination, Cuzco, Peru.

The view on the ground at Cuzco airport after 5 flights and two days.

My trip would take seven hours longer. Admittedly, though, my plans started as a three-legged trip with a business stop in the middle that required a two and a half hour drive (one-way) from the Baltimore. Delays into Chicago due to bad weather would ultimately force the cancellation of that portion of the trip but also allow me to catch the earlier flight to New York. This was fortunate because the same weather that messed things up in Chicago had made their way to the East coast. By opting for the 3:00 flight (which actually left at about 6:30) instead of the 7:30 flight (I have no idea when it left) I was able to make my connecting flight to Lima, allowing me to make it to Cuzco by mid morning on Friday, very important considering we were leaving at 6:00 AM the next day for our four day hike up the Inca Trail towards Machu Picchu.

My suitcase, however, wasn't so fortunate. The short hop from Baltimore to New York allows the airline to use small, turbo-prop commuter planes that can hold upwards of 40 people. Just not all of their luggage. I called the stewardess to inform her that they seemed to have not quite loaded all of the bags on the plane and I knew this because I could see my red bag on the cart parked next to the conveyor belt over by the terminal. After consulting with the pilot, she informed me that we were "overloaded" and couldn't put any more bags on the plane. Sorry.

Better I make it to Peru without my stuff than my stuff without me. As obvious as this was, it turned out to be a complete understatement compared to what the upcoming hike to Machu Picchu.

My suitcase would be so jealous.