Who doesn’t love a 5:30 wake up call, knowing you’ll be walking 16 miles up and down a mountain?

The good thing about our pre-sunrise alarm was knowing we’d have the entire day to pace ourselves during the walk. Leaving later would have meant rushing at the end of the day to avoid sundown, and I’m glad that wasn’t the case. The first hour and a half of our walk was along a mostly-flat, dusty, car road. We stopped several times so Juan Carlos could show us the various fruits and vegetables growing along the road —  bananas, avocados, papayas, passionfruit, and a special type of native fruit that turns into red paint, which he used to paint our faces with “tribal” designs.

Then, out of nowhere, Juan Carlos led us off the road and up a very narrow, steep path with intense, switch back turns. Lets face it: I had no idea what I was in for during the next several hours. I don’t think I’ve ever walked up such steep inclines in my life — the paths were angled at least 45 degrees, if not more, and my ankles were completely flexed upward at many points. Between the altitude and the incline, my breath was short and my heart was absolutely racing — when I stopped you could literally see my heart pounding my chest. I don’t know how else to explain it other than to say we were hiking along the edge of a mountain. One step to my left, there was a thousand foot drop, to the right, an enormous boulder engrained in the side of a mountain. Juan Carlos would point to a roof or a path far off in the distance and cheerily exclaim “that’s our next stop!” as if it was no big deal that our next destination was on an entirely different side of the mountain.

I have to admit, however, that it was incredibly satisfying to see your destination so far away and finally make it there, look back and say to yourself, “damn, look what I just did.”

Along the way up the mountain, there were several “houses” where we made stops — geared toward tourists, selling overpriced water and snacks, but one had traditional Peruvian clothing to dress up in and a display of the various produce that grows in the area, which Juan Carlos explained to us.

I mostly walked slowly at the back of the group, telling myself over and over again that it wasn’t a race, that I could take my time. My feet felt shaky and I was nervous as my feet found their places among the large rocks lining the very narrow path. One wrong slip and I could have literally tumbled off the mountain, knocked unconscious in the Peruvian jungle. I tried not to think about it as I made my way forward, trying to force myself to take breaks to look up at the incredible landscape. Aside from the fear, the walk really was breathtakingly beautiful — I’ve never seen tree-covered mountains with such unique formations.

We finally made it to our restaurant where we all wolfed down a delicious lunch. I’m not sure if it was the intense calorie burning or if the food really was that good, but the fresh guacamole we had was, in that moment, some of the best I’ve ever tasted.

After lunch, we walked for several hours along the Urubamba riverbed. We crossed several bridges back and forth over the river — some made of a handful of tree branches laid across the riverbed, others man-made but still very rickety. During rainy season, the riverbed often floods and, in some cases, wipes out the trail, so they often have to create a new path on either side every season. The terrain was rocky and sandy and not completely flat, but not nearly as uphill or treacherous as the morning had been. The sun had come out from behind a thin layer of clouds and it was definitely hot — much hotter than I had anticipated it being. Sweaty and exhausted, I was thankful I’d paid the 5 soles to send my bag ahead to the hostel instead of carrying it with me the entire day. At that moment, it truly felt like the best $2 I’ve ever spent! It was relatively unbelievable to realize that my body had taken me from steep mountains into jungle, then onto the banks of a river. I was in shock with how much I’d been able to do, despite my fear, and inability to breathe, at many points along the way.

At the very end of our walk, we had to cross the river on what Juan Carlos kept referring to as a cable car. This cable car was actually a 10 foot by 5 foot wooden and metal platform, attached to a long wire cable that stretched at least 300 feet across the river, whose calming gurgling noises had suddenly become intense, rushing sounds 25 feet below us. Mat (the Australian in the group) and I sat in the “cable car,” Juan Carlos gave us a giant push, and we began to sail across the cable. From the other end, a young boy — not much older than 14 or 15 — held a white rope, attached to the cable every 10 feet or so by a metal ring. Once our car slowed, he began to pull the rope, and consequently us, toward him. After we paid him a single sole (35 cents) for the crossing, he politely handed us a square, pink receipt, then used all his strength to push the car back to the other side, ready for two more passengers. Mind-blowing to say the least, and my pictures definitely don’t do the experience justice.

Another 15 minutes of walking and we reached what had become heaven in our minds: the hot springs. I cannot think of a more amazing way to end a day of such intense walking. Three gigantic pools of hot water, nestled along the riverbed, surrounded by jungle-covered peaks. It was the perfect reward after an exhausting day, and I’m sure the reason my muscles didn’t quit working for the rest of the trek. At first, we stood in the water in silence. I’m not sure what the others were thinking, but my loss of words was definitely a combination of exhaustion, shock, and total relief!

I’ll pause now to explain our group a bit — there were six of us total, two couples. Millie and Dan, a couple from London, were who I met at my pre-departure orientation, and I’d say I definitely became closest with them. Millie and I walked and chatted for a lot of the hike, and we got along really well. Stian and Gene were the other couple, from Norway, who were traveling all over the world for 8 months. Mat was the fifth member of our group, a 25-year old Australian guy with a very stereotypical Australian attitude. He did the whole trek in thin, canvas shoes, and mostly kept to himself, not talking much. Juan Carlos was an incredible guide — unlike a lot of the guides of the groups that we’d run into along the way, he wasn’t interested in partying or going crazy, he wanted to show us his beautiful country, teach us about the Incan culture and history, and really get to know us. I spent a lot of the time walking next to him and chatting — his english wasn’t perfect, but it was 100x better than my Spanish! I have to admit, by the end of our trip, I might have developed a baby crush…

Speaking of, despite spending most of my time with the two couples, I really felt at ease. There was a point at the hot springs when I was standing by myself, watching Stiam and Gene exchange loving, flirty looks, where I had a pang of jealousy but overall, the four days of the trek really entrenched in me a satisfaction in my own singleness — something I haven’t felt in a long time. I am so genuinely happy to be on my own at this point in my life, and despite all the heartbreak of the last year, I truly believe it all happened for a reason, and for me to finally be at this point emotionally.

I digress. After relaxing in the hot water for an hour and a half, our group of 6 opted for a 5 soles van ride into town instead of walking the last 2 miles — our muscles had had enough! We changed into our non-hiking clothes and had our standard dinner — a mealy soup I was not a fan of, chicken breast, rice, tomato and avocado and potato strips. We each got a complimentary Inca Tequila shot — just thinking about it brings back the burning sensation in my throat, even with the salt & lime. I was exhausted before dinner, but the tiny amount of alcohol ensured I was asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

Those are just a small smattering of the pictures I took on day 2 — to see all of them check out the Google Plus album I posted.