Day 5/5: Salkantay Trek to Machu Picchu
Peru Part II
* Below is a continuation from my collection of Peru journal entries, polished for the readers’ sake. If you missed earlier entries, feel free to visit my homepage and scroll my collection of posts. Throughout entries, you may notice various italicized sentences. These represent my raw, in-the-moment thoughts to pull you inside my mind and dimensionalize each piece. Thanks and happy reading.
Day 5:
I awoke around 3:45 am eager for what I knew would be a very historical day ahead. Thaís and I decided to buy a shuttle pass up the mountain to the base of Machu Picchu, even though most others hiked their way up.
Throughout the entirety of the trip, Kelyvn continued to amaze me. He has such a positive outlook and a real “say yes” attitude. When given the choice, he’d choose the hard/scenic route, so no way was he going to take the easy way out and ride a shuttle to Machu Picchu, he was going to do the damn hike. I admired that. To add, he and Thaís mentioned how they’re not hikers. They’d never really hiked together, so this was their first hike as a couple — to Machu Picchu! Thaís and I, on the other hand, felt like we’d done enough hiking the past four days and were completely fine paying 30 soles to save our feet and two hours of our life.
The two of us reached the base of Machu Picchu with time to spare before our 6 am start time, so we walked around among the other thousands of tourists waiting to see the Seventh Wonder of the World. I passed a resort neighboring the entrance to Machu Picchu, and I think it was the most boujee, luxurious resort I’d ever seen with my own two eyes. I peered through floor-to-ceiling windows where I saw chandeliers the size of my room and chairs that looked set for a king. Wow, to be able to afford a room there… Meanwhile, I was just grateful to have showered the night before.
Kelvyn and the rest of our group met us at the entrance at 6 am, so we walked in together and met our tour guide (sadly not Luis this time). We toured Circuit C, and in my opinion, the hour-long tour was extremely boring. Maybe I was just tired, but I was looking forward to the completion of the tour so we could explore the circuit on our own. Many people don’t know this (including myself before this experience), but the “Machu Picchu” mountain you see on postcards, touristy photos and screensavers is not Machu Picchu. The mountain you stand on is Machu Picchu while looking at the sister mountain, Waynapicchu or “Young Mountain.”
As we explored after the tour, we saw a set of stairs alongside a wooden sign with an arrow pointing up, telling us to follow if we wanted to reach the top of Machu Picchu. Heck yeah, I wanted to summit Machu Picchu. We’re never gonna be here again! We have to. We were all in and excited, but had no idea just how many steps awaited our already tired feet.
What we thought would maybe take 20–30 minutes took 2.5 hours. Staircase after staircase after staircase… like one of those nightmares where you’re clawing your way through a never-ending tunnel. The climb was steep with minimal flat, resting points. The trail was in good condition, although there were several uneven and broken steps because it’s original Incan stonework!
However, the scariest part of this climb arose during the second half as we gained greater elevation. There was a stretch of very exposed staircases (which I later learned are famed as the “Stairs of Death”) where my fear of heights, which I thought I conquered, definitely made a resurgence. These steps were so steep that I was essentially crawling up with my hands and feet. I’d glance to my right but immediately had to keep my eyes glued to the steps. My stomach would churn as I’d catch a glimpse of the sheer dropoff that was just feet away. I focused on my breath to ensure I didn’t get lightheaded and topple right over the edge! I wish I had photos to share of these “Stairs of Death”, but I kept my phone safe in my pocket at the time to avoid any distractions that could cause me to misstep.
As I mentioned in a previous entry, it’s astounding how few borders/railings there are in this country. While, yes, man-made confines take away from the natural beauty of a place, but sometimes they’re necessary — like at the “Stairs of Death”!
Historically, these stairs are believed to have served defense purposes. Known for their engineering prowess, the Incas likely designed these stairs to pose a challenge to invading troops, for this natural fortress could only be conquered by the most agile and fearless. Additional theories suggest that the Incas built them to reach a celestial observatory at the summit, and others believe the mountain was a sacred site where high priests would retreat for solitude and spiritual practices. Each theory builds mystique to the already enigmatic Waynapicchu.
Along the way, we crossed paths with the cutest, Hispanic family. There were a lot of them, including Grandma, who was probably around 70 years old with walking sticks (which Machu Picchu doesn’t permit, but I’m guessing an exception was made for her). Okay, if she can do it, WE can do it! As we passed by them, they clapped and cheered us on and I smiled so big. You never forget those sweet, unexpected little moments with strangers.
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I grew eager as I hoped the crest of every staircase would be the last and we’d alas reach flat ground. After pausing for a few breaks and existential crises, we finally reached the top of the last set of stairs and shouted in excitement and relief. We plopped ourselves on a flat rock and stared at the clouds above, which were almost right on top of us. Our chests rose and fell with every loud inhale and exhale… we made it. We were at the top of Machu Picchu! Unfortunately, the cloud coverage was thick and we could barely see Waynapicchu below. Although, the clouds moved fast, revealing a clear blue sky within minutes. However, another family of clouds would pass every five minutes and once again, completely cover any attempt of a view.
We managed to snap a few quick pictures when we caught an opening in the clouds, but we didn’t get the beautiful 360-degree view everyone hoped for. But, “It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey.” ;)
The Hispanic family reached the top about 30 minutes later and were elated. We cheered for them this time, and it felt like we all crossed the finish line of a marathon. Unfortunately, we only had about 15 minutes left before the mountain top closed, as thick clouds were rolling in and the staff wanted to ensure hikers made their way down before any possible rainfall. It’s good they monitor the weather so closely, for those steep, jagged steps (especially on the way back down) would provide a major safety hazard when wet (more than they already do). How I would’ve loved to spend a good hour at the top, though.
The way down was significantly quicker but significantly scarier, which we anticipated. With my feet turned sideways, I carefully placed one foot beside the other down the narrow ridges. With my back to my deathfall below and my palms clinging to the rocks on my left, my eyes did not take their gaze off my feet. I was locked in.
Less than an hour later, our steps finally flattened out at the base. 1,800 stairs made for roughly a 6-mile round trip.
Our sight of Machu Picchu was crystal clear now down here, so we used this opportunity to snap better photos. After our cheeks grew sore from smiling, we decided to take a seat on the grass and simply take it all in.
As I took in the view, I also took in my surroundings. All kinds of people were around me, which can be expected at any touristy site. I observed cute, little families snapping selfies, tour groups laughing and taking photos and a group of roughly 10 women dressed in all white performing some sort of spiritualistic dance for the “Machu Picchu Gods.” They moved slowly, opened their arms wide, then would go behind each other and do some woo-woo movements with their hands.
The Incas built Machu Picchu so high in the Andes because this location is considered to be in the middle of an “energetic vortex”, making it a sacred place. There are also many myths and legends feeding into the mystical allure. Some tourists visit specifically to feel the energy and practice yoga before the spirits.
I was asked if I could “feel the energy” by a random mom I took a family photo for, and I replied, “Yeah it’s amazing!” … I couldn’t feel shit. I only felt exhaustion. I also didn’t snap back in her face and tell her that I only worship one God, Jesus Christ, and other phony gods cannot set you free like my God can. While I do believe that, it’s still somewhat of a beautiful thing to see others worshiping. Regardless of who or what they’re worshiping, at least they’re lifting their gaze and hearts to something more powerful than they. At least they’re humble enough to acknowledge the existence and presence of something greater than themselves… greater than man. At least they cast their hopes, cares and anxieties to something unearthly. At least they see they aren’t here by accident. In my opinion, having a god is better than having no god.
God didn’t create religion, he created love. Man created religion and used it to divide each other. If religion is not from God, I will not waste my energy fretting over who identifies with what religion and why they believe in that religion and so on. I identify as a Christian, but I think calling myself a disciple, a believer and a daughter of The King demonstrates greater love and authority without putting myself in a box. Humans must focus more on having a real, spiritual relationship vs. a religion. Maybe then there’d be less judgment. God craves a deep, authentic relationship with us, not a systematic religion.
As I sat criss-cross-applesauce staring at the greatest thing I’ve ever seen, I felt at peace. Soo tired, and soo at peace. I began to doze off, and my head began to nod like it did in 7th-grade science class. It felt disrespectful to fall asleep before the Seventh Wonder of the World, so I forced myself to snap out of it. I continued sitting in awe, and I felt the energy — but not the energy everyone else spoke of. I felt the energy of the Holy Spirit! The sheer scale of mountains before me was humbling, to say the least.
It was a glorious day, and the crew (Thaís, Kelvyn, George, Michelle and I) went into town after and had smoothies. The best part was… these smoothies were COLD and oh-so refreshing. I’ll never forget how quickly Kelvyn slurped up his mango smoothie the moment it was set down. Wide-eyed, he downed that glass in probably less than 10 seconds. He’s a comedian.
So, the Seventh Wonder was accomplished and the day came to an end, though the trip didn’t end there. I will sum up my final days and thoughts in the next two journal entries to follow, but for now, I’ll leave you with a brief reflection and expression of gratitude:
Every bead of sweat, every challenging step, every mosquito bite, every swollen ankle, every sock down the toilet, every pair of boots ruined and every day without a shower was worth it.
People have had the Salkantay Trek at the top of their bucket list for years… people prepare weeks ahead with a Machu Picchu training plan… people invest in sturdy, non-slip hiking boots with high-tech ankle support and traction specifically for this hike. I am so, so grateful for the gift of this adventure. This trek wasn’t on my bucket list (I didn’t even know it existed), I didn’t train for this, I sure as hell didn’t have proper hiking boots and I had just finished a week of being cavewoman Karina.
All you need is some grit, toilet paper and God!
P.S. See my Reel from Salkantay Trek Days 1–3 here!
