As we’ve mentioned several times in the past few posts, we hiked Colca Canyon this weekend. We had heard about Colca while researching Peru and knew we were interested. However, since we had already booked the Inca Trail, Colca wasn’t at the very top of our priority list–we just hadn’t spent much time looking into it. When we decided to add in Arequipa before we went to Cusco, we did so partially because Arequipa is the jumping-off point for Colca Canyon. We knew that Colca would be difficult, given that it is the second deepest canyon in the world, but we didn’t really give it that much that thought–we were doing a longer hike in November, so surely we could handle it. It occurred to me after the hike that when we hiked the Grand Canyon in 2002, we spent months preparing for the trip. We researched online, we bought special gear, we watched documentaries about the Grand Canyon and we built training programs around getting in shape for the hike–we were prepared. For Colca, however. . .
Day One
We were picked up at our hostel a little bit after 4:00 am. Our group of eight piled into a comfortable tourist bus and proceeded to zig zag through Arequipa picking up other tour groups and guides. By 5:00, we were on our way out of Arequipa, headed to Chivay, the main gateway village to Colca Canyon. At Chivay, we purchased tickets for our first stop, Cruz del Condor, the primary viewing location for Andean Condors. The condor is an impressive bird with a wingspan of up to 10 feet and the ability to fly at altitudes of up to 16,000 feet. Adam was less than thrilled about going Condor-watching. The condors must have known, because they didn’t make an appearance at all that morning. After an hour of checking out views of the canyon, but no condors, we loaded back on the bus and continued on to Cabanaconde, the small village at the rim of the canyon from which we were to begin our hike.
The drive to Cabanoconde afforded amazing views of the canyon, including Incan and Pre-Incan terracing, still used by the local farmers. I was immediately struck by how much life there was in Colca Canyon. Unlike the Grand Canyon, Colca is peppered with villages, large and small. The villagers at higher elevations make a living by raising livestock–mostly alpacas. Those at lower elevations farm vegetables and small fruit orchards. Throughout the weekend, we were regularly surprised by how well the inhabitants of the canyon were able to live in such a harsh environment.
In addition to the views, we got one of our first tastes of the difference between the Peruvian and American road system. There were numerous places where small streams crossed the roadway winding along the side of the mountain. Since we were in such a large bus and the streams caused dips in the roadway, we had to slow almost to a stop to cross each of the streams (even though they were tiny streams). At one of the larger dips in the road, we came to a complete stop. After a few moments, the bus driver and all of the guides piled out of the bus. They began rearranging large rocks into rows across the stream. When I saw them produce railroad ties from the cargo hold of the bus, it dawned on me what they were doing–building a bridge!! After a good ten minutes of adjusting and maneuvering, the bus slowly crawled across the makeshift bridge. Only after we made our way across did I realize that I had been holding my breath–as I breathed a huge sigh of relief, the guides cheered for the bus driver. This bus ride was nothing if not eventful.
Once we arrived in Cabanaconde, we met the rest of our group–Tom and Foy, a couple from England about five weeks into a five month trip; Gregg and Dion (he’s British and she’s Irish, but they’ve been living in Australia for four years. They were about halfway through a yearlong trip); and Phillipe and Emilie, a French couple traveling in Peru for a few weeks; and our guide, Victor, a native of Chivay. After we ate lunch together, we began our hike for the first day– it was about five miles long, descending about 3300 feet into the canyon. The trail was steep and mostly made of gravel, so despite being downhill, it was a tough hike. Reaching the village of San Juan de Chucho at the bottom of the Canyon was a relief. We were excited when we reached our destination for the evening, the home of the Rivelino family. This was our bedroom for the night:
Rustic, yes, but thoroughly impressive given that the only way to get to the village is to hike or ride a mule! Our candlelit dinner was cooked and served by our guide and the Rivelino family. After dinner, we had an exciting night that consisted of going to sleep at 7:45. We were beat!!
~Megan
Day Two
We were supposed to be awake by 7:30 the next morning for breakfast, and we were a little worried since we didn’t have an alarm clock, but the Rivelino family rooster took care of that for us. The loud little guy started cock-a-doodle-doo’ing at about 3:30am. He kept it up off and on throughout the morning until we got up around 6:30. Even though I was less than thrilled about our new alarm clock, once we went outside our hut, I was quite happy about being awake to watch the sun come up from the bottom of the canyon.
After getting up and having some pancakes for breakfast, cooked again by our host family and our guide, we set off for the day. We were on the trail by about 8am, and it was supposed to be about a 3-4 hour hike, ascending and descending across the bottom of the canyon until we reached “The Oasis”, our accommodations for night two. The hike started off going straight up a steep trail for about a half hour. Unfortunately, Megan and I were right behind our guide, Victor, and since he does this once or twice a week, he moves at a pretty quick pace. Before Megan knew it, she was out of breath and couldn’t get it back. Since we were going up a really steep part, and we were at about 8000 feet above sea level, the altitude was really getting to her. Next came a headache and feeling of nausea.
Luckily for her, the rest of that day’s hike wasn’t too grueling. It was mostly flat, with a descent for the last hour into The Oasis. We passed several little towns along the way, and we were given a local drink (chicha-a fermented corn drink) by one of the local women. We were told that chicha was only made for special occasions, and our visit to their town was that special occasion.
As we got closer to The Oasis, Victor told us that once we got there, we would have the rest of the day and evening to relax and prepare for the next day’s ascent back to the top. The Oasis was quite the place to unwind after a tough two days. It is a little village at the bottom of the canyon that has many bamboo huts for the hikers to stay in. It also had two pools, the water coming from nearby waterfalls. And what would an oasis be without a bar to help with the unwinding process?
It was a gorgeous place to spend the afternoon and evening unwinding and preparing for the next day’s hike. Our hut wasn’t the most luxurious of places, but how many times does one get to stay the night in a bamboo hut at the bottom of the second deepest canyon in the world?
After our guides cooked everyone dinner at around 7, it was back to bed by 8 again, as we had to get up at 5am to start our journey back to the top.
We have to leave soon to catch a bus to Puno, which is about halfway to Cusco. The bus strike is still going on and they are not letting any buses into Cusco, so we still aren’t sure how we’re going to get there once we get to Puno, but several travel agents have suggested we go that far, and there may be some alternatives once we arrive in Puno, or the strike could end, and we’ll be 6 hours closer.
We don’t have time to talk about the last day of our Colca trek, but we will update as soon as we get a chance. In the meantime, here is a link to the Flickr set of all of our pics (it’s a big set!!)
Until then….
~Adam
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I know, DORK. I didn’t care though, those things were lifesavers. Some of the steps on the trail were hip-height on me. I have never been so jealous of the long-legged as I was on that day! As much as I loved my bamboo poles, I was even happier to be able to tell the mule driver that walked up behind me and asked if I wanted a ride, “No Gracias.” There were a couple of people from other groups riding up, and we noticed that the mule driver had brought an extra mule. When I declined it, he told the others to wait and took the extra mule back down. It occurred to me that perhaps our guide, Victor, had suggested to him that he might be able to pick up another rider on the way up. (An idea that I later confirmed with Victor himself.) So while I always enjoy contributing directly to the local economy, I felt pretty badass to be able to turn down the ride after all the altitude sickness drama the day before. Yeah, I owned that canyon. 😉
The Wander Year 