Huaraz
PERU
Santa Cruz Trek
By LYNDI
Sunday, February 22, 2008
Have you ever boarded a bus in a warm, spring-like city so you unwisely chose to wear a tank top and skirt, only to find out you wake up the next morning in a town located at over 3,000m (or 10,000 ft) and only roughly 8 degrees Fahrenheit? Me neither. That would have been way stupid and shown a significant lack of foresight. Therefore, I entered into Huaraz, Peru warm and toasty after an 8 hour bus trip from Trujillo.
Huaraz is well known throughout trekkers’ circles as the starting point for the famed Santa Cruz Trek – often reputed to be the best hike in Peru – even over the many trails leading to Machu Picchu near the Sacred Valley. Huaraz sits right in the middle of the Cordillera Negra and Cordillera Blanca mountain ranges, so everywhere you turn you see enormous, snow-capped mountains and crystal-clear lakes nestled in between the peaks. So as long as you’re looking up, Huaraz is beautiful. If you’re looking around, it’s pretty much an eye-sore. As with any city along the Andes, Huaraz has been hit time and time again by earthquakes, therefore all the buildings in town are squat, plain, non-aesthetically pleasing structures – just sort of bracing for the next tremor. Apparently it was in good shape until 1970 when a huge earthquake ripped the city from top to bottom killing 100,000 people (the current population today). So now the streets have been built wider and buildings shorter and character-less.
When I got off the bus at 5:30am, I was immediately surrounded by people trying to sell their tours to trek in the Cordilleras or to the pre-Colombian ruins of Chavin. At any rate, I didn’t even bother doing the “polite no” scheme. I ignored the touts because everyone knows that if they are desperate enough to chase down unwilling tourists in bus stations, their reputation probably doesn’t speak for itself. I finally grabbed my bag and started walking out of the station towards a hostel I had read about online called “Backpackers”. I was really looking forward to staying in a city with hostels again so maybe I could finally meet other travelers. One guy from an agency I can’t remember started following me – all the way to the hostel. Finally I turned to him to tell him to leave me alone, I have a hostel, I don’t need his help but I just couldn’t get rid of him. Even when the lady at the hostel let me in the front door this creepy guy followed me in – apparently an old chum of the lady. Great. I told him I wanted a shower and a nap and didn’t want to talk to him. So he said he’d come by later. When I told him that was a horrible idea he finally relented, gave me his card, and told me I could visit him later … since he was the only agency in town open on Carnaval Sunday.
Crap.
After my nap and shower I walked through town to find it completely shut down for Carnaval. I also found that there was more than one agency with signs on their door saying “See you in March!”. Apparently tourism is so low in late February – being the middle of the rainy season in a city that depends on trekking – that a good percentage of businesses in town just shut their doors for two months at a time. And Mr. Stalkerman was right – I couldn’t find much in the way of travel agencies that were open. I did some research online and in my Footprints guidebook and saw that Galaxia Expeditions was highly recommended as well as open that day. Since I only had five days in Huaraz before I was set to return to Lima, I had to book something that day and leave on Monday for the Santa Cruz trek. I talked to Galaxia and they told me they had a group leaving on Tuesday – which would be okay because I could do the trek in three days and then do a different activity on Monday. I swallowed my pride and also talked to Mr. Stalkerman and he said he had a group leaving the next day – so I had to let him know NOW! To be honest, I really wanted to do the four day trek, but his agency had no credentials and I really didn’t like the pressure strategy, so I went with Galaxia. That would prove to be a risky choice.
So for $250 I got a three-day trek (had to pay the same price as the four-day trek – which was standard throughout town) and a free rock climbing day in the nearby mountains. The rock climbing was great – my guide took me up to a beautiful viewpoint with different levels of routes available. I, obviously, opted for the easy ones. So the guide would climb up with the gear to set up the ropes and then I would climb to the top using only the natural holds of the cliff. I’ve done rock climbing indoors plenty of times – but doing it outdoors was a lot more exhilarating. There’s no color-coded holds telling you to “Put Hand Here!”, and you didn’t have to turn around after climbing up about 20 feet. The only thing was we did the easiest routes at the beginning when my arms and legs and back were fresh and ready for a challenge. We got to the more difficult routes when I was worn, torn, and exhausted. Needless to say, I didn’t get too far on the harder route. I did end up getting to the top four times, I fell off once (well – I guess you don’t really “fall” if you have someone below to keep you in place), and finally I had to give up – seeing as how my arms could no longer be lifted to shoulder level, much less hoist me up a rock face. However, overall it was a great day.
And then early the next morning, our trek began. We had a group of 6 people, a guide, and a burrotero – or guy that leads our burden-bearing donkey. I was the only one doing the three-day trek while all the others were doing all four days, so I wasn’t sure how that was going to work. I asked at the very beginning on the drive up and was told that “there’s a system”. Ah! Well that explains everything!
The drive up was pretty spectacular – we passed the crystal blue Llaganuco Lakes and over a pass of about 4700m and started our hike in a little “town” called Vaquiera. And by “town”, I do mean “2 houses on a dusty street with 2 stray dogs”. One guy on our trek – a Polish guy named Marcin – had just arrived from Lima the day before and just about died within the first 5 minutes of walking. The start of the trek was 3700m and it only went up from there, so the altitude had hit him pretty hard. I’m not sure if it was the language barrier or the altitude, but he cracked us up on several occasions. The first time as we were walking, he quickly pointed and yelled out “Look! Avalanche!”. As we all leapt for cover he corrected himself saying “Oh wait. I mean waterfall”. At another point he was drinking a rehydration drink and told us it tasted like “eye”. We weren’t really sure what that meant until he said, “Oh wait – ei is “egg” in German. It tastes like egg”. I was quite relieved our hiking partner in the middle of nowhere didn’t know what eyes tasted like.
The first day of hiking was beautiful, if not a bit muddy. After having done the Inca Trail where there is a constant flow of trekkers, guides, and porters as far as the eye can see – being the only people in the vast wilderness was bliss. I think we only hiked for about 5 hours the first day and set up camp underneath towering glaciers and surrounded by a herd of alpacas. I shared a tent with a French-Canadian girl named Marie that I’m not sure was capable of smiling. She did, however, lecture me for not doing the full four days and for not having my own equipment because, you see, she’s a hardcore hiker that can do anything I’ve done but better. One of those. But hey, at least she didn’t snore.
The second day was definitely the hard one. We had an early wake up call and were served hot coca tea by our guide and burrotero, a huge breakfast of pancakes, and were off. As we gradually climbed to Punta Union Pass at 4750m (15,500ft), the vegetation became sparse, the air became thinner, lakes and rivers flowed down from the mountains, and glaciers looked within reach. When we could actually see the pass we would be crossing, we could only go about 15 minutes at a time without stopping to gasp for breath – or in poor Marcin’s case – without stopping to lay sprawled on the rocky floor ready to die. The nicest part about the thin air is that it forces you to stop, rest, and look around. Too many times I hike away, chatting to other hikers, and don’t really stop to appreciate the surroundings. And there was plenty to appreciate around here. When we finally passed the pass (haha), we had to stop at the top and take plenty of pictures. Not only of the viewpoint, but of the huge achievement. It was really, really hard going at the top, and we wanted to soak it all in for all it was worth. However, at that altitude, it doesn’t take long for the cold, crisp air to start your teeth chattering, so we began our descent after about a half hour’s rest at the top.
And, as they say, it was all downhill from there. We camped the second night at a really windy location, but we huddled inside our food tent and played endless card games. I was really lucky to get a group that got along so well – minus the Canadian – so we were able to entertain ourselves while avoiding the biting wind.
At dinner that night, I asked our guide what I was supposed to do tomorrow since the rest of the group would hike one extra day. The answer? I go by myself. We all sort of laughed since our guide was pretty sarcastic anyways… until we figured out he wasn’t joking. I told him I absolutely was not comfortable with that situation but he said I’d be fine. What?? How can sending an untrained hiker on an 8 hour hike through foreign terrain without a map by herself possibly be a good idea?? He told me it was really easy (this, by the way, is where Marie piped in and said “Yes, just follow the the valley. It is really very easy”. Thanks roomie). I told him getting lost was the least of my concerns. What if I fell and broke something? What if I didn’t have enough food or water? What if I encountered another hiker with, um, bad intentions?? There was no way I was going to hike the third and final day by myself. I was very serious with my guide telling him that that couldn’t possibly be “the system” that they had told me about – but he insisted. My heart sunk. In all reality – everything really probably would be fine. But “probably” wasn’t good enough for me. Thank the Good Lord that poor, sick Marcin finally volunteered to go three days. He said he wasn’t feeling well the whole trip and didn’t want to stay a full night, but later he also admitted that he was very concerned about my safety. I told him I hoped he was only doing it for himself and not for me and the shady company, but he insisted. Whew.
So early the next morning we set out to head to Cashapampa. Had it been a little less cloudy we could have seen the mountain that is in Paramount’s logo, but we saw plenty of other beautiful mountains instead. The scenery was stunning, the weather was crisp and dry, and I was absolutely relieved to have a hiking partner. As our guide had predicted, nothing went wrong (although I did take a wrong turn at one point and had Marcin set me back on track) and we arrived at Cashapampa safe and sound. Not that that makes their “system” okay – but it worked out for us. Our guide had told us that once we got to Cashapampa, we should take a series of buses back to Huaraz and gave us specific instructions. What he didn’t tell us was that no buses run from Cashapampa after 3pm. Thanks again Galaxia. So we took a taxi to a nearby town and a bus from there. I’m not sure what would have happened had one of us not spoken Spanish since the guide had been very specific with where and when to catch buses in Cashapampa.
So we arrived back in Huaraz around 6pm. I had a few words with the people at Galaxia telling them the 3 day trek was a horrible idea if they thought sending a single girl on her own through foreign terrain was a good idea – as well as the fact that the guide gave us the wrong – or non-complete – instructions on how to get back. In their defense, they apologized and said that I was supposed to hike with the group on the third day and once we all got to camp the guide was supposed to hike with me to Cashapampa, then hike back to the group (it was only 2 hours further after the third campsite). That did explain a lot – but it didn’t explain why the guide was not aware that this was, in fact, their “system”. Luckily Marcin and I made it and had a great time doing it. And the best part was that in the middle of rainy season we did not see a drop of rain the entire time.
I really wished I’d had more time to spend in Huaraz. There were about 2 more treks I’d really like to do, I’d like to visit the Chavin ruins, and I could definitely have gone for a few more days of rock climbing – but a 32 hour return trip to Cuzco and a handsome boyfriend beckoned. I boarded a nightbus that night, was in Lima early in the morning, and in Cuzco 22 hours after that. But Huaraz is definitely on the list of “Things To Do (Again) Before I Get A Real Job”. OK – I don’t have that list. But I need to get back.
