Inca Trail Day 4 and Machu Picchu - Post #5

I stayed awake almost all of our third night on the trail, listening to the rain and making silent pleas to Mother Nature to stop it. I finally drifted off when the rain slowed to a drizzle but I didn't sleep long because our wake-up call came at 3:30 a.m. The ground was damp but the sky was dry. The early hour didn't lend itself to breakfast, but our chef had baked a cake (!) overnight which wished us luck on the final leg of our journey to Peru's Wonder of the World and we ate it while we drank tea. The porters had our tents down in no time and were practically packed up before we were because they had to take a different path down to Aguas Caliente to catch the porters' train.

As for us, we ate and hit the trail. We could feel the sense of urgency in our guides and took off in the dark for the checkpoint which marked the end of the Inca Trail and the entryway for the path to Machu Picchu ... which we ran into in less than five minutes. We had no idea we were so close. It was 4:30 a.m., and we were the second group in line (behind another Llama Path group).

Fifteen minutes before the gate was set to open, it began to rain. Not just any rain, but big, bulbous rain drops. Chaos reigned (rained?!) until 5:30 as everybody tried to squeeze into the covered shelter.

At 5:30 the guides sorted things out, the first group pushed through the gate and then the six of us took off ... and I mean, we booked it. Forget the altitude sickness, forget the sore muscles, forget the exhaustion and fatigue. The fire to reach the Sun Gate first and the excitement of seeing Machu Picchu took hold and we took off at a ridiculously fast pace. The rain sloshed, our pants soaked through (lesson learned: never wear cotton pants in the rain), our feet slid across the rocks and our poles struggled to hold us upright. My headlamp bumped the bridge of my nose every time I took a step and I tore it off before the sun came up. I also felt my passport turning into a soggy mess in my pocket and I transferred it to an inside pocket of my rain jacket (another lesson learned: keep passport in a Ziploc bag).

Three individuals passed us before we reached the monkey stairs, a set of extremely steep steps that almost require the use of hands and feet to climb. As we ran up the stairs, we passed the group in front of us. The six of us hiked like we hadn't hiked in the previous three days.

And then we reached Intipunta - the Sun Gate - the first place where you can see Machu Picchu. We were the first full group to reach the Sun Gate that day. Unfortunately, as you know from my first post, the weather was not cooperating and our view was completely obstructed by fog. As disappointing as the situation was, it was sort of funny too. We'd come all this way and it was pouring rain. We took the obligatory picture anyway.

There was no reason to hang around at the Sun Gate, so we took off on the final leg of our journey ... this time at a significantly slower pace. We had achieved our goal of reaching the Sun Gate, but now the hikers began to mingle with tourists who had gotten off the bus at Machu Picchu and were hiking up to the Sun Gate for a view. There was a clear difference between us and them. Us: Wet, dirty, stinky, bundled up. Them: Pressed khakis, bulky video cameras around their necks, sandals, umbrellas.

When we reached Machu Picchu, it was so foggy we could barely see anything. We walked down to the entry gate and found an umbrella to huddle under as we ate our snacks. Alex told us that he'd just found out that it rained at Machu Picchu the entire day before. "Do you think it will burn off?" we asked him. And as optimistic as Alex is, he shook his head ever so slightly.

I looked down into the parking lot where buses were dropping people off and already picking up people who had given up on the weather. We stood near the site's cafe, which served up coffee and candy like a stadium. And then I looked out toward where Machu Picchu was supposed to sit, sprawling down the mountainside, and all I saw was fog. A heavy disappointment fell on me, and despite the amazing journey of the last few days and the achievement of hiking such a challenging trail, I had to fight back a few tears of frustration.

Alex suggested we take our tour of Machu Picchu in the drizzling rain, and we all hoped that in that time the weather would change its mind and the sun would burn the clouds off. Despite the situation, Alex and Eddie did a great job sharing the story of Machu Picchu with us. They led us into rooms and explained the significance of why certain windows and fountains had been placed where they were.

The higher class lived on one side of the site (about 200-300 people) and the workers lived on the other side (600-800 people). When Hiram Bingham found Machu Picchu in 1911, only two families were living there. The important buildings and the buildings at the top of the site (vs. the lower buildings) were made of perfectly fitting rocks which were rubbed smooth by the workers. Everything on the site was created from rocks pulled from three on-site quarries.

I thought the most interesting room was the Sun Temple, which was sort of located in the middle of the site. It has two windows, and on June 21 the sun shines directly in one of the windows and on December 22, it shines directly in the other. It's easy for me to believe that those buildings were built with the summer and winter solstices in mind, but the Inca history wasn't written down so it's hard to know for sure how much of the Inca story is true versus not, but it's a wonderful story of cross-mountain routes, spirituality, energy stones and levels of leadership spread out across the Andes anyway.

Once our tour had ended, the rain had let up a bit, and though the fog still came and went in waves, we began to see Machu Picchu in all its larger-than-life glory.

We wandered out to the old Inca bridge, a rickety structure that had been used by people on the Inca Trail. Apparently they used to let visitors walk across it, but someone fell off and died a few years back, so now people are held back with a simple "Prohibited" sign in Spanish. In the United States, there would have to be a guard stationed on the path, signs in a million different languages and a big ugly chain restraining people from wandering out to the bridge. But here, people just know and respect the trail.

When we returned to Machu Picchu, the clouds seemed to lift like magic and we eagerly took the moment to take in the massive, expansive civilization before us. The buildings escalated down the mountainside and the greenery of the surrounding mountains and terraces drew out an astonishing array of color from the site. I was so excited to be there at that moment. Despite the cool dampness, wet boots and pants, dirt and sweat, everything about the previous three days now seemed completely worth it.

From our vantage point high on the hill, we began wandering around the rest of the site. Machu Picchu is huge. We spent a couple hours peeking in the rooms, walking up and down stairs, looking through windows, feeling stones and gazing in awe at the fountains and flowers ... and yet I feel like I could have spent several more hours peeking, walking, looking, feeling and gazing and still not fully comprehend the enormity of this structure.

The sun never fully came out and we still had a few moments of light rain, but we definitely enjoyed Machu Picchu in all its glory.

One Wonder Down, Six To Go ~

JoAnna