It’s astounding that Machu Picchu was forgotten for hundreds of years. Incan inhabitants fled after word of Spanish invaders, abandoning their architectural masterpiece. After what many call genocide of the massive Inca population, the great citadel and knowledge of its existence became lost in time. A handful of natives knew about it, but they cherished it as a sacred part of their ancestry. Hiram Bingham, the American explorer who’s credited with its discovery, had to bribe a few men to guide him to it. Nowadays, it’d be hard to find someone who hasn’t heard of Machu Picchu. It’s the biggest draw card for Peru, if not for all of South America. It was at the top of my life list, as it is for many.

The Inca Trail refers to the 21-mile stretch from the Sacred Valley to Machu Picchu, though there are countless trails in Peru and its neighboring countries. The Incas created a spider web of paved paths to connect their expanding empire, with steep steps that wind around mountains and narrow passes through cloud forests. It is a testament to Incan construction that people today can trace their steps. The five-day hike along the Inca Trail makes the visit to Machu Picchu more like a pilgrimage than a vacation.

There were 16 people in our group, most of who came to South America for the trek alone. Believe it or not, we had 23 porters and 3 guides. It’d be hard to find luxury on the Inca Trail, but we were by no means roughing it. Our stuff was carried by porters, our tents were up when we arrived to camp, we were woken up each morning with hot coca tea (to help with the altitude), and the food was amazing. Our main guide Carlos joked we would gain weight, not lose it.

A bus took us to the starting point the first morning, where we were bombarded with bamboo walking sticks and wide-brimmed hats. There has been major concern that the influx of tourists is destroying the trail, so the checkpoint ensures that only 500 people enter per day, all of which must be accompanied by a guide. After a group photo with the Inca Trail sign, we started walking. For four days, we climbed up jagged peaks, maneuvered down slippery slopes, zigzagged across terraced fields, and wandered through various ruins. We were often at cloud level, where harsh landscapes suddenly disappeared into white mist.

The porters are remarkable. They raced past us carrying ten times the load, as we watched with amazement and fumbled a Quechua greeting. Each time we heard “porter!” and moved out of the way, we discussed how crazy those men are. It was impossible to imagine what their job is like, so Julie and I tried it out for half a day – an afternoon in the life of a Peruvian porter. It wasn’t hard to find two who were willing to swap their heavy bundles for our buoyant gringo packs. I exchanged my baseball hat for a colorful beanie (the team uniform), and I would’ve worn tire shoes if they had fit.

A real backpack would distribute the weight in a comfortable form, but the makeshift sacks the porters use concentrate the 50 or so pounds on the shoulders straps. Nevertheless, Julie and I were determined not just to survive the walk, but to make it to camp with the other porters. We got in the zone, and it was clear that we had impressed the rest of the team, for we were welcomed with clapping and a line to shake our hands. Julie and I gained respect for the men that do it every day, and, as it turned out, they gained respect for us.

Nature is the one thing out of the control of the guides and porters. It could rain every day, clouds could obscure all of Machu Picchu, or a landslide could obstruct the final stretch of the Inca Trail. We suffered from the latter. A landslide wiped out a crucial section of the path, forcing everyone to detour until it can be cleaned up. We got down from the mountains and followed train tracks to the town of Aguas Calientes, where we were exposed to civilization a day earlier than we hoped. Instead of walking through the Sun Gate and down into the citadel, we had to take a bus with all the other (lazy) tourists. It was a real bummer: we had hiked for four days to earn the view from above and the sense of accomplishment in reaching Machu Picchu by foot. I bet the Incas could have fixed it in no time.

The good news: Machu Picchu was even more spectacular than I dreamed it to be. No postcard can capture its strength and majesty. It’s simply perfect. We got there just as the sun rose over the surrounding mountains and slowly poured into the valley. It was surreal. I was so in awe that I had to remind myself to take pictures.

Although we had trekked on higher mountains in the area, we could never see Machu Picchu before. It was strategically nestled in a circle of mountains, which is why it remained undiscovered for so many years. The Incas created a Garden of Eden, where man and nature cooperated and thrived. The terraces follow the contours of the mountain face and the stonework is inseparable from the natural boulders. The waterways through the buildings are still flowing.

Carlos led us on a tour before he let us wander freely. It was great to learn about the sites, but it was equally satisfying to blindly explore. I got lost in a maze of ruins more than once. Many people find a quiet spot on one of the grassy plazas and meditate on what it was like back in the day. Julie and I chose to tackle Huayna Picchu, the famous peak that juts out from behind Machu Picchu. There are some more Incan ruins perched atop, so we brought our bag lunches and snacked as we looked down on the lost city.

This entry was posted on Friday, May 5th, 2006 at 8:48 am in XXI. Peru. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.