It is crisp and clear and a beautiful day. We could not have asked for better weather.  In a few minutes we will board a bus that will take us to the starting point at Kilometer 82 where we will sort through our gear and get ready to leave. From there, the road winds down to the gate where we pay our entrance fee ($88 US), sign-in, cross the bridge, and set off on one of the most arduous hikes we have ever made.

(11:38 pm) Dead Woman's Pass

We are now at Dead Woman’s Pass and it has been a grueling day. As we began, the trail rose gently uphill through a eucalyptus grove. The incline was gradual and the trail shaded. We continued on through large trees and beautiful valleys until we approached the first set of ruins at Llactapata. Here we took a break to take photographs and just sit in the vastness of our surroundings. From Llactapata we had a commanding view of the entire valley and it made us feel very small. Several farmers could be seen working in the rolling countryside, and just out of sight you could hear the Rio Cusichaca, which is a tributary of the Urubamba. At times, this raging river plunged underground and ran unnoticed. As we marched ahead past Llactapata the trail began to rise.  It was also at this point that it began to rain.  We found shelter under a lean-to along side the road, but as the rain stopped, we continued on down the road.

We stopped for lunch at the small village of Huayllabamba. Here locals sit out next to the trail offering cold drinks, food and other assorted goodies for sale.  Our lunch consisted of a local fare including bread, fruit, cheese, rice, and tea. There was plenty and we were grateful.
 
For me, the hardest part of the hike started immediately after lunch. Our guide asked if we wanted to pass up the first campsite and proceed to the bottom of 'Abra de Huarmihuanusqa,' or 'Dead Woman's Pass.' He said this would put the hardest part of the trail behind us and allow us to ease through the remaining days. Because our strength was holding and we still had a great deal of enthusiasm, we decided to take the recommendation and proceed straight to campsite #2.

Just after Huayllabamba the trail turned northwest up the Llullucha Valley. I realized immediately we were in for a much harder hike than anticipated, and I was right.  We marched on through a steep thicket of lush, sub-tropical vegetation that gave way to woodlands. The incline was dramatic and I became fatigued rapidly. The incline continued for well over an hour until it dropped down to a clearing. This was the first campsite along the trail, and the one we had decided to pass. By the time we arrived at campsite #1 it was a virtual tent city with large groups staking out the best sites. Still, we moved on.

At the first campsite, my wife and I separated. She has a much better cardiovascular system than I and I couldn't keep up. She ended up with an Australian woman and another American. I fell in with another Aussie. As we left the meadow the path began to enter the woodlands. It was beautiful. The trees were hung with moss and looked like large mushrooms or stocks of brocoli sticking out of the ground. Still, even with all the beauty around me, I could not take my attention away from the path before me. The trail continued up steeply with no sight of respite. The Aussie and I would walk for a while and then stop and talk. He was a very nice fellow and told me a story about an American woman hiking alone in Tibet. She was walking very fast and ahead of everyone when she fell off the side of a cliff. It was some time before anyone realized she was missing and when they backtracked, they could barely hear her inaudible cry for help. She had broken her leg and back. As the story was being told, I slipped and almost went over the edge. As I looked down I realized I could have had a similar fate. Still, we continued on, stopping every so often to catch our breath, stuff more coca leaves in our mouths or to bitch about the difficulty of the trail.