Salkantay Trek
Peru
Four days, three nights. No tour, no guide, no pack animals.
The Salkantay trek is quickly becoming one of the most popular ways to reach Machu Picchu. When we spoke to other travellers about trekking to one of the 7 Wonders of the World, they always mentioned Salkantay, never the more well-known Inca Trail. What Salkantay lacked in ruins and culture, it made up for in dramatic scenery. It was also much cheaper and, currently, less crowded. While most people join a guided tour, there were enough villages and guesthouses along the way to undertake it independently without having to carry camping equipment. It sounded perfect for us.
Day 1
Distance: 11.5 km
Ascent: 660 m
Descent: 412 m
At 6.30 a.m., we caught a colectivo from Cusco to Mollepata, where we expected to transfer to a taxi for the journey to Soraypampa, which is as far as the road goes. It turned out that everyone in the colectivo was also doing the Salkantay trek, so the driver offered to continue driving up into the mountains for an extra fee. However, the other tourists on board decided they wanted to start from the village before Soraypampa, Challacancha, which is where the tour groups commence. As it was still early in the day and we didn't have much hiking ahead of us, we jumped out too and trekked the extra 7 km to Soraypampa.
After paying the cheap entrance fee (the one and only fee we would pay for the entire trek), we set off at 9.30 a.m. directly up a mountain. At the top it flattened out and twisted along a fast-flowing aqueduct, with Humantay Mountain guiding the way. The sky was clear but a thick haze hung in the air. We passed one large tour group and then another, and we soon realised that Salkantay wasn’t going to be as quiet as we had been led to believe.
In Soraypampa, we made enquiries at a couple of hostels before we found a room available. Unfortunately it was only a dorm, which paled in comparison to the dome tents and wooden huts with clear roofs for star-gazing, but at least we had the room to ourselves. The hostel turned out to be a popular choice for independent trekkers, and we were soon conversing with people from all over the world.
There was nowhere to buy lunch, so I ate the couple of small bread rolls I had brought with me before starting the out-and-back climb to Humantay Lake (Danny was taking it easy after getting almost no sleep last night). Hundreds upon hundreds of day trippers from Cusco were coming down the hill as I was ascending, so it wasn't hard to find my way up the gravel path. Forty minutes later I was standing on the shore of the lake, gazing at the hazy glacier overhanging the water. Once the final tour group had departed, there were only about a dozen of us there - it would have been horrendous an hour earlier with hordes of people milling about. A rocky trail led up to a narrow rim, which skirted around part the lake. Although the haziness didn't improve, the turquoise blue of the lake intensified significantly. It didn't have the wow factor of the lakes in the Cordillera Blanca, but it was picturesque nonetheless.
I arrived back at the hostel in the early afternoon and sat in the wonderfully warm sun, chatting to the other hikers. Once the sun disappeared, though, we retreated into our private dorm until dinner time. The evening meal consisted of popcorn and fried rice (a great combination if you ask me), with gigantic servings placed in front of everyone. As soon as it was over, we all made a beeline for our beds in an effort to stay warm and prepare for an early start tomorrow.
Day 2
Distance: 19 km
Ascent: 744 m
Descent: 1,753 m
Breakfast was served at 5.30 a.m. Not from 5.30 a.m. onwards, but only at 5.30 a.m. Light had barely started to appear in the sky at that time. Normally on our hiking trips, we wouldn't get out of bed before the sun had hit us. The only reasons I got up at all were because I had paid for breakfast and I knew I would need the energy for today's long trek.
We left the hostel at 7 a.m., which was much earlier than we liked. We were, by far, the last people to leave not only the hostel but also Soraypampa. It was bitterly cold and, thanks to the clouds, the sun didn't reach us until 8.15 a.m. The first section involved a 6 km ascent to the Salkantay Pass, sitting at 4,630 m. Usually a tough climb would warm us up, but not so today. Although Salkantay Mountain was directly in front of us, it was obscured most of the time so there wasn’t much to look at. On the way we overtook hundreds of trekkers and dozens of horses, most of whom were part of tour groups. Sadly, many of the horses were carrying hikers, both men and women, who seemed quite young and more than capable of walking up a hill.
It took us less than 2 hours to reach the pass, where we could finally see the glacier on Salkantay (although the glare of the sun prevented us from taking any decent photos). There were further glaciers leading down the next valley but the clouds were still hanging about. Due to the icy wind and lengthy descent ahead of us, we didn't stay for long at the pass.
Within 2 km of leaving we entered the clouds, and that was it for glacier-viewing. When we popped out underneath the clouds, where the light and heat couldn’t penetrate, we could see the valley stretching out for an eternity. It was filled mostly with rockfall and didn’t look particularly attractive. Eventually we entered a cloud forest, where the surrounding trees put an end to any possibility of views from then on.
The 13 km from the pass to our destination, Chaullay, was consistently downhill on a slippery gravel and rock path. Having to watch every step we took quickly became tedious. At least the route was obvious, so we had no need to consult our map at all. On this section we didn't pass a single other hiker on the trail, having left the majority of them all at the pass. It was much more pleasant when we could escape the crowds and the noise.
The first town we passed through on the descent, Wayramachay was lined with tent after tent, ready for the arrival of tour groups for their lunch stop. As it was only 11 a.m., we continued on to the next village, Rayanpata, which consisted of nothing more than a handful of houses. We perched ourselves on a rock on the side of the path and ate our sandwiches, joined by a swarm of mosquitoes.
Thanks to the lower altitude near Chaullay, it finally warmed up enough for us to remove our jackets It had been a long time since we had ventured below 3,000 m, and we weren’t complaining about the pleasant temperatures or oxygen-rich air. We arrived at 1.30 p.m. in a town filled with rustic hostels and campsites set on the side of the mountain. At 2 p.m. a light rain started to fall - maybe the early start had been a good idea after all.
I was relishing the steaming hot shower at our hostel until, without warning, it turned ice cold around the 3-minute mark. After the same thing happened to Danny, we realised it must have been on a timer. A sign would have been appreciated. The rest of the afternoon we tried to absorb any sunlight that managed to filter through the clouds and just enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted. At dinner we caught up with many of the hikers we had spent last night with, swapping travel and hiking stories over a simple meal. Understandably, we were all keen for an early night.
Day 3
Distance: 20.5 km
Ascent: 455 m
Descent: 1,202 m
It wasn't a relaxing sleep. Ferocious thunderstorms battered the town for 3 hours overnight. With a corrugated iron roof above us, the sound in our room was deafening and little sleep was achieved. We wondered how this would impact the trails today.
6.30 a.m. was a slightly more respectable time to have breakfast. Surprisingly, there were clear blue skies and the haze had disappeared, although more storms were forecast for later today. We set off at 7.30 a.m. to take advantage of the perfect weather while it lasted.
The first 3 km were along a dirt road, dodging both cars and donkeys. Then we turned off onto a single track that meandered through the forest, with a river raging below. It was by far the prettiest section of the Salkantay we had seen so far, despite the absence of snow or glaciers. Even though today was mostly downhill, the trail still had plenty of uphill segments to keep us on our toes. Somehow the soil was only slightly damp and not a muddy mess like we were expecting. The further we descended, the more birds, butterflies and foliage we saw. It had been many weeks since we had been at an elevation where everything was deep green and lush. With the sun beating down and a warm breeze floating through the air, it could have been a summer's day in Australia.
Things were going great until we hit the tour groups. As it was a narrow trail, there weren’t many opportunities to overtake. Often we became caught in a conga line of people lining up to take a photo of a waterfall, or stuck in the middle of a group of 20 hikers. Sometimes we would pull over to let them pass, but they would stop a minute later and we would catch up with them again. It was never peaceful and we couldn't find our own rhythm. The exasperating leapfrog game lasted for a couple of kilometres, until we reached a village surrounded by passion fruit vines where all the groups sat down for a longer break. We continued on.
At roughly the halfway mark we faced a dilemma. Online blogs and Maps.me both said to cross over the river and take the road the rest of the way, due to landslides wiping out the path ahead. However, we weren't sure how outdated that information was. A few independent hikers ahead hadn't taken the bridge over the river, so we decided to take the same route and test our luck with the landslides. Looking behind us, we noticed the tour groups were taking the bridge option. We figured their guide would be more aware of the situation than us, so we backtracked and followed their lead.
On the other side, the trail eventually led up to the road. That was where the tour groups jumped into a van and drove off to who knows where. Not wanting to retrace our steps again, we started out along the road, knowing it would lead us in the right direction. It was nowhere near as picturesque as the first part of the day, but at least we wouldn't be hindered by landslides. (Later we heard that many groups were driven to our destination, Lucmabamba, to save time. We never found out if we could have kept going on the original path.)
Arriving in Lucmabamba in the early afternoon, we found ourselves surrounded by avocado trees, orange trees and coffee plants. Our hostel was way up the hill from most of the lodgings, and all we could hear around us were chickens and small birds. The weather was perfect and it was a lovely place to relax. Most of the other hikers took buses out to the Santa Theresa hot springs, but we had visited numerous thermal pools in Peru and it didn't seem cold enough to warrant sitting in a hot spa. Instead we chilled out until dinner, where we were served heaps of veggies with a small portion of carbs (my ideal ratio). Then it was off to bed for another early night.
Day 4
Distance: 22.1 km
Ascent: 1,040 m
Descent: 1,033 m
It was a peaceful night, with the presence of solid walls between our neighbours and the predicted rain staying away. Disappointingly, the clouds and haze had returned, but the weather was warm and there were no winds about. When we sat down for breakfast at 6.30 a.m., we saw tour group after tour group already heading up the trail. We didn't mind taking our time and leaving at 7.30 a.m.
On the way out of Lucmabamba, we wandered through a forest filled with coffee plantations, fruit trees, ferns and palms. It felt more like a Southeast Asian jungle than the Peruvian Andes. Although there were rarely any views, the scenery was stunning. We toughed it out for 6 km straight uphill, keeping a steady pace on the soft dirt. Despite bumping into several tour groups, they were more spread out today and overtaking wasn’t as difficult.
Coming down the other side of the mountain took an eternity. The steep path zigzagged downhill for several kilometres, with a gradient close to 40% at times. Giant steps wore out our already weary legs, but at least it wasn't slippery. We didn't see any groups on this section, and our only company was the consistent hum of cicadas. There was a small set of ruins on the way, the remnants of a rectangle-shaped building, but it wasn't worth stopping for.
At the bottom we crossed a river and followed the route to the town of Hidroelectrica, alternating between road, trail and railway line. The latter was lined with vendors and restaurants, where we picked up a snack for the long walk ahead.
Leaving Hidroelectrica, we climbed up a short hill lined with banana trees up to a second train track that led us all the way to Aguas Calientes (aka Machu Picchu Town), 10 km away. Although the trail was slightly uphill the whole way, we barely noticed it. What we did notice, though, were the pointed, jagged rocks that railway tracks are typically composed of. Our feet and ankles were not appreciating the sharp, unsteady terrain. The tropical jungle vibes continued, reminding us of our time living in and travelling around Asia.
The last few kilometres were along a dirt road beside a river, where a constant stream of buses going to and from Machu Picchu kicked up clouds of dust. It was a relief to finally arrive in Aguas Calientes, but also a shock to the system. The town was crammed with hostels, restaurants and bars, all sitting on top of each other on the narrow, vehicle-free streets. It was tourism to the extreme, and all at jacked-up tourist prices. Bright lights, loud noises - it was an overload to the senses after several days out in the mountains. If you could ignore the sales pitches and the overdevelopment, the setting was striking. Giant rocks and mountains covered in trees jutted straight up into the air, and we knew Machu Picchu was on top of one of them, just out of sight.
Usually, tickets to Machu Picchu are sold out months in advance, but every day an extra 1,000 tickets go on sale if you line up in person at Aguas Calientes. There are 10 different types of ticket on offer, which cover various routes around the site. The most popular is circuit 2A, and this was the one we were after. As soon as we arrived in town at 1.45 p.m., we made a beeline for the Cultural Centre where the tickets are sold. The first step was to collect a number, which told us what time to return to the centre to buy the ticket and how many people were ahead of us (it seemed like an unnecessarily confusing system). As numbers are available from 5 a.m., we didn't think securing tickets for tomorrow was realistic. Much to our surprise, we were given numbers 243 and 244 out of 1,000, giving us some hope. We returned at the stated time, 4 p.m., lined up with a couple of hundred other people and crossed our fingers.
It turned out to be easy in the end. There were still 180 tickets left for circuit 2A, and we had our choice of time slots. We picked an early hour in the hope of having slightly clearer weather, then went out to celebrate with happy hour at one of the hundred or so bars in town (although the cost didn't make us so happy in this crazy expensive town).
