Peru: Cordillera Blanca

As soon as I was more or less back on my feet, Jo and I got on another night bus to Huaraz, in the Cordillera Blanca in Peru. We were itching to get out of Lima - though the food in Lima is amazing (if you’re ever there, you must go get ceviche at the Magdalena market!), the city itself is not our favourite. First of all, it is very noisy - it seems to be the way people drive in the city is with their foot on the gas and their hand on the horn. The constant honking of horns was driving us crazy; the only time you didn’t hear them, it seemed, was between one and five in the morning.

The second reason we wanted out was because we were dying to see the sun. The positioning of Lima between the Pacific ocean and some desert mountains means that the fog that comes off the sea gets trapped around the city. That, in combination with the polution from the non-stop traffic, means that the sky is just grey all of the time. Certain times of year it is better and the sun does come out, but apparently not in July and August.

The third reason is because we simply wanted to get back to nature and to what we were planning to do before I got sick: Hiking and trail running. The Cordillera Blanca has some of the most celebrated hiking circuits in the world and we were eager to experience them. We also were preparing for the Andes Race 100km race at the end of August and were anxious to get both some training and some altitude acclimmation going.

Of course, we didn’t jump right into trail running upon arrival in Huaraz. I, after all, had just spent an entire week horizontal, and we also needed to acclimate to the over 3000m of elevation before trying to go even higher. We spent the first few days in Huaraz working, and also with me trying to get my appetite back. You can’t go into the mountains if you’re not well fueled, after all.

Huaraz itself is a fairly nice town, or at least, the area where tourists generally stay is fairly nice. There is a good mix of local and more touristic restaurants, cute little squares, and plenty of nice cafes to do work in. When we first arrived, we stayed in a hostel right on the main street called Hotel Huaraz. It was alright for the price, but I think after my illness and everything, I was feeling tired, homesick, and therefore emotional. We went into our room, which in typical Peru fashion had no windows (you have to stay at nicer places for that) and I just started to cry. Jo did his best to comfort me, but sometimes you just have to cry in order to let those emotions go. He went and picked up some food for us, but my already limited appetite and my emotionally state didn’t allow me to eat too much that first night. Thankfully, things got better from there.

A couple of days later I felt ready enough to head out on what we called our “warm-up hike” - the Cojup loop. This would be a two or three day hike, depending on how fast we were. Had I been in a better state and had we been more acclimated to the altitude, I think we could have done it in two. We, however, did end up dividing it into three days.

We booked transportation to the trail head through our hostel and went to various stores to do our provisioning for the trek. If there is one piece of advice I would give anyone coming to Peru to do any hikes autonomously (that is, without guides or a tour group), it would be to by trekking food in your country to bring with you. The light weight, dehydrated trekking food available in the Huaraz is incredibly expensive, so we went to the regular grocery shops, instead. Here, however, the options are extremely limited: canned tuna, instant noodles, pasta, industrial sandwich bread, some cold cuts and cheeses, and canned lentils. The canned lentils are very heavy, so we only bought one of those. Let’s just say that none of our meals on any of the hikes we did in the Cordillera Blanca were overly gourmet or high scoring on the nutrition scale, either.

The next morning we were up early, off, and away. The transport dropped us off at the start of the trek, which is just a wide-open, massive valley between two big mountains. The first day involved crossing this valley and then climbing up a ways to a lagoon, where we would find a place to camp for the night. Those first few hours were the only time we saw other people for the entire trek; just a couple and their dog. After that, we were completely on our own. The first day of the hike wasn’t too difficult, and we managed to get in around 12km. We were going to camp next to the lagoon, but there were a lot of cows hanging around the alcove where we thought about putting the tent, and we were worried that they would accidentally knock rocks on us during the night. We then found the remains of a one-room building made entirely of stone. The ground inside was flat and it protected us from the wind, making it an ideal location. We were in bed before 7pm.

The next morning, we were woken up by a loud moooo outside our tent. I opened the tent flap to indeed see a big white and black spotted cow peaking in at us. I said hello to the cow, she mooed back at me, and then continued on her way. From there, we ate breakfast, packed up the tent, and got ready to tackle what would be the toughest day: To climb the pass that sat at an elevation of just over 5000m. Still recovering my energy from being sick and both of us not having so much acclimation time, it was a challenge. There were many times where we just had to stop and sit down to breathe, especially the closer we got to the top of the pass. Finally, we made it.

From there, we started the descent. Originally we thought we could do this and return all the way to the end of the loop in the second day, but the altitude humbled us quickly. We ended up stopping and setting up camp about halfway down the descent, completely exhausted. That night, we were in bed by 5:30pm.

The next day, though longer in kilometers, was much easier. We finished the descent we’d started the day before and then walked across the mostly flat valley until we reach the main road. From there, we sat, waiting for when the bus would come by. This was where the driver told us the buses would pass and to send him a message when we were there, or close by. The only problem was that we had no signal, because we don’t have Peruvian sim cards. So we just sat there, waiting. Eventually, a man came by in his car, carrying two other passengers. He told us that the buses likely would’nt be passing by for several hours, but he was dropping off the other two passengers and could do the same for us. We ended up paying him around 20 soles each for the ride, which was a reasonable amount.

Back in Huaraz, this time we decided to spend a little bit more to get a more comfortable hotel with a better breakfast and windows. It was worth every penny spent to be comfortable. Again, we spent the next couple of days resting, working, and doing a little bit of running and gym sessions. The only problem is that there is basically only one place to go running in Huaraz, and that is up to a look-out with a giant cross statue that looks out over the entire city. It is a great view, but running up there, especially when you start the run at 3400m already, is quite challenging. There isn’t any flat sections - it’s either you’re climbing or going down. This was not my best run - I was still quite exhausted from illness, lack of calories, and of course the hike that we had just done. I know that running probably wasn’t in my best interest at that point, but I had a race to train for and am stubborn so that’s what we did.

As I mentioned, the Cojup trek was our warm-up hike - for what, exactly? An even longer, more challenging hike, of course. The Huayhash trek, that goes all around the Cordillera Huayhuash. Most people do this as a guided hike in a group that takes eight days. Jo and I were going to do it autonomously with the goal of doing it in 6 days, maybe seven if we decided to add on a day to go to some hot springs. Regardless, we packed for eight days just to be sure. We sat down with a tour agency operator and former mountain guide, who explained the entire route to us and drew us a map. We, of course, had the GPS track to follow, as well. The night before the trek we stayed in a cheaper hostel more in the center for easier pickup and so that we were spending less money on a room that we were going to be leaving at 3am.

The next morning we got picked up and taken to where the buses would pick us up. From there, we drove a few hours to where the trek starts. It was around 10am when we were finally actually starting the hike. During this hike, there are three passes that are 5000m or higher, plus some others that are just a little bit lower. Doing the hike in six days instead of eight meant that we would start each day with a tough climb. The trek started out great and we were in high spirits. The climbs were tough but the views were beautiful. A more popular route, there were plenty of other people along the trail who we could say hi to and sometimes ask to take our picture when in nice locations. Our good mood, however, took a downturn upon arrival at the first campsite, which we would be skipping and continuing onto what is normally the site for day 2. There was a checkpoint, where some local people were standing. They informed us that to pass here we had to pay 30 soles each. Confused, we explained that we’d already paid 50 each to enter the Huayuash national park and another 20 at another spot that we didn’t know what it was for - there was simply a blockade and everyone in the bus had to pay. The man and woman there told us that, yes, we paid that, but this 30 soles was for the first two campsites - “for the community”. It was extremely frustrating, because no one had told us that we would have to pay various amounts at various checkpoints along the way. She not-so-politely informed us that if we didn’t have enough cash, we should turn around and go back. It was 3pm and we’d been hiking since 10am. We counted out how much cash we had and thought that we would perhaps have just enough to make it through - no hot springs, however, which we knew was extra.

We paid the toll and continued on, hiking straight on until the next campsite. This meant that we did nearly 20km in one day, with our heavy backpacks and a tough pass in there, as well. It was around 5:30 pm when we were arriving at the campsite. There were three options: Two, more crowded sights sitting up on the ridge, and a less-crowded one down by the lagoon. With the wind up high and not much space left, we opted for the one below. We made our way down there, where we there was a local woman. She looked at us and Jo made eye contact with her - we figured she was the person who’s job it was to check out tickets and make sure that we had paid our toll at the last site. We set up our tent and then Jo started cooking dinner as the sun was setting. It was at this moment that she came over to us, said hello, and then informed us that this was actually a private campsite that would be 10 soles each extra. Already frustrated by the suprise payments that we would have to pay along the way, we were fairly upset. I explained to her our situation, and that also that I wished she had come and told us this before we had completely set up our tent and started cooking our dinner. After some back and forth, she agreed to let us pay just 10 soles for the both of us. I don’t like confrontation, and the situation really bothered me, making it tough for me to sleep that first night. This was our first foray into the way the local people here often do business, and we definitely didn’t like it. We learned that we have to always ask prices ahead of anything, because otherwise you’re stuck paying for something you didn’t want to in the end.

The next day we woke up to a frost-covered tent. Camping at over 4000m each night, it was quite cold. We shook as much of the ice off of the tent as we could, because a wet tent means a heavy tent. We headed out for our third day of hiking, when we came across another roadblock. A man with his family set up a toll of 30 soles per person to cross a bridge in order to head towards the next pass. The problem is, there isn’t another way to get there, so you have no choice but to pay. 60 more soles down and feeling quite frustrated, we continued on.

From there, things generally got better. Now that we were aware of all the tolls and payments we would have to make, we just had to let it not bother us. We only hoped we would have enough to get us to the end of the hike - there are no ATMs in the mountains. The hike was challenging but absolutely stunning. The snow capped mountains all around us were the picture-perfect backdrop. The 5000m pass we did on day three had one of the most beautiful views of the snowy cordillera I think I have ever seen. Each night at the campsites, there were the same dogs that were following the tour groups. They were all really lovely and always came to Jo and I, knowing that they would get their fair share of belly rubs from us. One, in particular, we fell in love with. She was young, maybe around 6 months to a year old, and looked like she likely was some kind of black-and-white sheepdog mix. She had a spot on her left side in the shape of a heart. She slept outside of our tent every day and hung out with us every evening.

While we were enjoying the beauty and challenge of the hike, we were quickly realizing that we were a bit light on food. Again, the lack of options meant most items were quite heavy. In an attempt to not make our bags too heavy, we inadvertently brought meals that simply weren’t big enough. This was most difficult for Jo, who has much higher calorie needs than I do. By the end of the fourth day, he was really starting to struggle - he was in a pretty major calorie deficit, and we still had quite a bit of distance to cover. Thankfully, that night the campsite was actually on a soccer pitch in a small town. While there were no real restaurants, there was a woman who would cook you a nice, hot meal for just 12 soles per person. We counted our soles carefully, and while we didn’t have enough to sleep in a hostel or take a hot shower like many of the other hikers were doing, we did have enough for the food. Having a good-sized, fresh-cooked meal like that was just what we needed. The woman was lovely, and her place even had wifi. She asked if we wanted the password, and I said sure. This way I could quickly check in with work to see if anything urgent was needed of me. I connected, saw that I had no pressing messages, and turned my wifi off again - I was enjoying being disconnected. When we went to go pay, we said to her 24 soles for the two meals, yes? To which she replied: Yes, and 5 for the wifi. I suppose we shouldn’t have been surprised at this point, but Jo and I both stood there staring at her a little bit speechless. Thankfully, quickly, she changed her mind, saying no, no, it’s okay. We paid for our meal and went back to the campsite to go to sleep.

The last two days passed quickly. Jo was feeling a bit better after the fresh meal, but still the altitude in combination with the days of calorie deficit were still affecting him. Heading up the long climb to the final campsite, we had to stop much more frequently so that he could sit and rest. The last campsite was absolutely beautiful, but it was also at 4500m, making sleeping fairly difficult. Our doggie pals were there again, though, which we always enjoyed.

The next morning we set an alarm fairly early to make sure we’d get an early start on the day. Our goal was to be in the town of Llamac in time to take the 11am bus back to Huaraz. Just as we were reaching the bottom of the big hill we had to go down, we heard a heavy thump-a-lump-a-thump sound approaching behind us really quickly. Before we could even turn to see what it was, there she was: our black and white sheepdog friend. She had apparently decided to join us for the last day of the trek. At first we were unsure, thinking that maybe she belonged to one of the guides. We weren’t taking the same route as the tour groups, and we were worried she would get lost. There was no stopping her from coming with us, though, so we figured we’d ask around the town when we reached Llamac.

Already a fan of this dog, we completely fell in love with her. She was the perfect hiking buddy, never going too far ahead or lagging too far behind. We called her Lilly because she liked to stop and sniff all the wildflowers along the route. If we called her, she would come running to us. As magical as that was, our last day ended up being a bit of an adventure. Following along the GPS route, it took us to a place where we knew we needed to be on the other side of a rushing river. The only problem was that there was no bridge. We followed along the dirt road for a while to see if we would come across one, but with no luck. A van travelling the opposite direction went by us and gave us road directions as to how to get to Llamac. The issue here was that it would be far longer - on day 6 of hiking, we didn’t envie the idea of adding so much extra distance, and along a road, no less. We went back where Jo saw a spot where he thought we could perhaps cross the river. I was fairly hesitant - the water was glacially cold and the current fairly strong, plus, we had Lilly with us. How was she going to cross? It was too deep for her to walk across and we were unsure if she could swim against the strong current. This is when we divised a plan. We took off our boots and socks and zipped off the bottom part of our pants. We left our bags on the edge of the river, while I crossed carrying both of our boots and socks. Jo crossed carrying Lilly in his arms. A medium-sized dog who was more fluff than anything else, she was surprisngly light. Also surprisingly, she was perfectly calm as Jo scooped her up and carried her across. The water was absolutely fridged - it was everything I could do to stay calm while crossing, and also not slip and fall all the way in. When we reached the shore on the other side, Jo went back across to get the bags. At first, Lilly was preoccupied with me, as I was sitting on the edge trying to do some deep breathing to calm my slightly panicked nervous system. Just as Jo reached the bags, that is when Lilly realized that he had gone back. Now, it was Lilly’s turn to panick and my turn to calm her down. The poor thing was pacing and whining watching Jo pick up the bags and bring them back across. Once he arrived on shore she was practically trying to jump back into his arms.

Safely on the right side of the river, we put our boots and lower pants back on and checked for the route. We could see the path we needed to take, but it meant quite a steep climb to get there. What’s more, the path leading to it was narrow and lined with thorny bushes. As I said, it was an adventure - and adventures aren’t always the most comfortable.

The rest of the hike was fairly straightforward: Follow the path until you arrive in Llamac. At this point, we knew we wouldn’t be arriving for the 11am bus. Our getting lost and the river adventure had solidified that. The path that wound around the mid-point of the mountain was absolutely beautiful, but I was having trouble enjoying it. I was not 100% convinced yet that we were, in fact, on the right route, and was feeling rather stressed about it. Lilly had gone up so far ahead that we couldn’t see her anymore, which wasn’t like her, so that also worried me. Finally, we came across the reason why: She’d caught the scent of a couple and their guide, who were just a few kilometers ahead of us on the trail. We came across them while they were taking a snack break and found Lilly happily accepting some treats from the guide. He informed us that not only were we on the right path, but we had probably less than an hour to go before reaching Llamac. This was the best news of the day.

We reached the town with Lilly by out side. The only problem was that Lilly was not neutered, and I had noticed that she had begun what I thought was likely her first eat cycle. As we entered the town, all the male dogs were coming out of the woodwork - they could smell it. Lilly was not a fan, and so we used our poles to do our best to keep the male dogs away from her.

We met another hiker who pointed Us towards where we could buy bus tickets to head back to Huaraz. When we got there, however, they informed us that no more buses were running that day, because it was las fiestas patrias - aka Peru’s national holiday. The drivers, rightfully so, were taking the day off. The only problem for us was that we didn’t have enough soles to pay for a night in a hotel and for the bus, just one or the other, and there were no ATM machines in the town. The couple who owned the store who was selling the bus tickets, however, told us that with the money we had left, we could pay for the night in their hotel, which was above the shop. The bus route for the next morning would make a stop in a town were there was an ATM. There, we could take out the money and give to the driver.

Now our only problem was Lilly. We sat outside with her as long as we could, keeping the male dogs away so that she could sleep. An elderly woman called out to us, asking if she was our dog. I told her that, no, she just followed us out of the trail. The woman told us that, well, she was ours now, and we should take her with us back to our country. This, of course, is easier said than done. First of all, dogs are not allowed on buses in Peru, so how do we get her even from Llamac to Huaraz? Second, to move a dog from one country to another, they need all of their vaccinations up-to-date, confirmation from a vet that they are healthy, and a doggy passport. All of this could take multiple months. Finally, Jo and I aren’t returning to either of our countries, at least not for quite some time. We mulled over what we could do for quite some time. We did know some people in Lima who could perhaps take care of her until we were able to take her, but then we really thought: What’s best for her? Currently, she was happily living in the mountains, following hikers and groups who gave her love, food, and attention. She was free. Yes, there are certain disadvantages to not living in a house with a family, but by all accounts she was healthy and happy. We made the very conflicted decision to wish her goodnight, and if she was still there when we caught the bus in the morning, then maybe we would make a different decision.

With that, we took a much needed shower, the woman cooked us dinner, and we went to sleep. The bus was leaving early the next morning, and we went outside to catch it, Lilly was gone, having probably gone off with another guide or group of hikers. This was probably one of the hardest moments yet for us in terms of having to leave a dog behind for sure.

Back in Huaraz, we spent some days resting and eating - Jo made a joke that we had both “melted” during the trek, and we needed a few days of good eating to get back in form. We did some running, as we were still training for the Andes Race at the end of August. Running in Huaraz is tough. There is only one place to go - up to a lookout, which is a long continuous climb - and the city itself is already at 3400m of elevation. Though difficult, it was good training, as the Andes Race would be similar. We also did some trail running in an area around Huaraz, that had a challenging 22km route that went over a pass at 5000m, so it was also a good training.

The first time we did that route, however, it did not go well. The first of these reasons was that I was days out from my period, and anyone who understands the luteal phase knows that this can be a difficult time to attempt difficult things. My energy levels were low and my mental and emotional resiliance was down. The other problem was that I had developed an infection in my lower right wisdom tooth. I had noticed it brewing right on the last day of the hike, but usually they flair up and then go away fairly quickly. This time, however, it did not. The day we did this trail run for the first time was just the day that it suddenly flourished. My cheek on the one side was quite swollen, though we didn’t really notice until we got out on the trail. It was also painful, and it made eating, especially the often chewy-textured trail snacks, quite difficult. The first half of the run is also a long, continous climb up to the pass, and I think I stopped and cried at least three times. The trail was beautiful, it just wasn’t the day for me.

When we got out of the trail, the first thing we did was go straight to a pharmacy. In Peru, when you need antibiotics, you just go to the pharmacy and by them. Going to a doctor first doesn’t achieve much, because they don’t tend to do any specific tests unless they deem it really necessary. We looked up online that amoxacylin is often prescribe for tooth infections, so that’s what we went and asked for. The woman there told us the price and then asked us how many we wanted. We thought this was a weird question, because we were more used to pharmacists knowing how much you should have and telling you themselves. We said five days worth, bought them, and left.

We had another week or so in the area before we had to go meet Jo’s sister, niece, and nephew in Lima, Rather than staying in Huaraz, we went to a neighboring town called Yungay. The plan was to stay in a hotel there the first couple of nights, then do a fast-packing trail run from there up to a refuge in the mountains of the national park, stay in the refuge for a night then run back down. The only problem? The amoxacylin that I had been taking three times a day had started to give me diarrhea. We delayed our fast-packing adventure a day to make sure that the immodium was doing it’s job well and then started off with our plan. The only problem? My period finally arrived, and in addition to that I was completely wiped out by the second round of antibiotics in less than a one-month span. So we abandoned the plan and turned back, and instead went back to Huaraz.

A couple of days later I was feeling much stronger, and so we decided to repeat the 22km trail we did the week before. This time it went much better, though I wasn’t feeling 100% back to myself, I was feeling much stronger. Perhaps the Andes Race wouldn’t be such as stretch after all.

Finally, after nearly three weeks in the Cordillera Blanca and surrounding mountains, we boared a night bus to head back to Lima. Now it was time for a visit that we had been anticipating for quite some time: Jo’s older sister Nadege and her two children. We couldn’t wait to see family again after such a long time, especially Jo.