The cheapest way to reach Laguna Llaca was to catch a colectivo to the village of Marian, 13 km from the lake, and hike the rest of the way. I could have caught a taxi a lot further down the road and saved myself the walk, but where would be the fun in that? Like the trail to Laguna Paron, the terrain alternated between road, gravel and dirt, but this trek had a very different feel to it. For the first 2 km I was walking through the village, saying hello to the locals as I passed. Gradually the houses petered out, although it was a while before I left the growling dogs behind. There was a distinct lack of trees compared to yesterday, causing me to stare directly into the sun most of the morning.

 

Just after I passed through the entrance gate to the park, the glaciers came into sight. This was when things became interesting. According to the map, a trail should have led me all the way to the lake. I started off on a flat, grassy plateau, but I was on the wrong side of a river weaving its way along the plain. I found the narrowest section there was, took a leap of faith and landed safely on the correct side. Then I hit a fork in the trail, but my map only showed a single path and I wasn’t sure which one to take. As I had a lot of climbing left, I presumed the route going uphill would be a good guess. It wasn't. Partway along this trail a local guide came walking towards me. He told me the bottom path led to a series of switchbacks that climbed up to the lake and was the usual route for tourists. The route I was on veered up to the road, which would also take me to the lake, so same same in the end. As I wasn't keen on backtracking, I continued on the current path.

 

A few minutes later, my trail deteriorated into nothingness. I was halfway up the mountain, on a steep slope, with nowhere to go. After contemplating my options, I decided the best course of action was to scale the precipitous slope to find the road above me. There was nothing for my hands to grab onto other than short, spiky grass, while my feet searched for the barest of footholds. An eternity later I arrived on the empty road, surprised I hadn’t slid all the way to the bottom at any point.

 

With my unconventional detour, the final distance was closer to 12 km than 13 km, but when you add in 1,200 m of ascent and 3 hours and 15 minutes of non-stop ascending, I was relieved to be finally standing on the top of the hill, looking down at Laguna Llaca (4,474 m). I was the only person there, although several small groups later joined me. The water was much paler than the other lakes I had visited, almost an opaque pale blue. At the end stood twin summits covered in snow, while bare rocky walls filled in the sides. It wasn't the most impressive lake I had seen around Huaraz, but it was still a captivating sight.