Jungle Boogie

It's incredibly hard to write from memory. Even when these memories are only a few days old. I've shrugged off the suggestions of writing while everything is fresh. Always assuming that powerful memories are never forgotten, I've put off writing about this experience. Regardless, the 3-day trip I experienced last week cannot be left out. Here it is:

KB and I arrive in Ollantaytambo at at about 9am. We had spent the previous night in Cuzco, not daring to travel the vast expanse of road between it and Ollanta (as the locals call Ollantaytambo). Peruvian combi drivers already drive as if speed limits, yellow lines, and laws don't exist. If another daring combi pulls up behind them, they'll speed up 20+ mph simply to ensure they aren't passed. Once they've realized they're going to be passed, regardless of how hard they mash on the gas pedal, they hug the yellow line as close as possible to make sure the passer is aware of their domineering presence. I've come to accept that getting a ride in a combi here is more of an extreme sport than throwing myself down these mountains on a bike. The whole ordeal is overwhelming on its own, but combined with darkness it becomes a death wish. Russian roulette with multiple bullets. Needless to say, having to stay in beautiful Cuzco for the night was worth ensuring an empty chamber.

Arriving in Ollanta, the day became a whirlwind of tumultuous progression. KB, our driver Gato, five Aussies, and I loaded into the van. We headed up to Abra Malaga pass, part of the South American continental divide. At 14,160 feet, this pass is the highest road until you cross the ocean and hit Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. It's a place of nearly constant rain throughout 4-5 months of the year. Dropping off the back side of the pass, we began our five hour bike ride down into the jungle. It's amazing how quickly the environment changes in a short ride. The top of the ride presented itself with dozens of picturesque waterfalls cascading down the mountainsides like silk. These waterfalls begin only hundreds of feet from the peaks of the mountaintops sometimes. The rain is so continuous that even with such a little gathering area, these waterfalls flow consistently with high volume. As the ride progresses, high-altitude desert gives way to a warmer forest of thickets and conquering ground cover. You're able to shed off the rain gear, soaking up the powerful "radiation" rays as you cruise down. Waterfalls are now channeled into wide-spread rivers that move OVER the road. You become extremely talented at slowing down, putting your feet on the handle bars or frame, and hoping the splashes aren't overly determined to occupy your shoes. Stopping for lunch at a beautiful Incan watch-post, I jumped off my bike to find myself planted right in front of a small little banana tree. The bananas weren't fully ripe, carrying the slight green shade of a banana you normally buy when it doesn't sound appealing then, but will probably be good in a future smoothie. I had no intention of missing out on eating the first banana I had ever seen growing though. Delicious to say the least. The ride ended in the jungle town of Santa Maria at 4,600 feet, aka Beer Town as the trip guides call it. I'd dwell into the enjoyment of a cold beer after a long day of adventure, but I'm sure all of you know the feeling.

Getting the bikes ready for the decent! I keep my bike on top unless it has to be used. No use wearing down my brake pads while at work.

Goodbye rain. Hello sunshine! (This is me at work)

The 4 hour drive up to Huancancalle that night contained all the aspects of a perfect roller coaster ride. Fast speeds, terrifying heights, and equipment that makes you second guess your decision. Halfway up, we came to a rutted, eight foot wide section of road that the van bottomed out in. Next thing you know, Gato has us out of the van, pushing it back a few feet. His complete lack of English made instructions more than interesting and brought a bit of humor to the situation. Using rocks, a group of us dug out the high spots and placed rocks in the ditch. We then stepped forward, selfishly watching from the comforting safety of the road, while Gato maneuvered his away atop the thousand foot drop to his left. The power was out in the entire valley that night. It was absolutely beautiful passing by dimly lit clay-brick homes with entire families huddling around a few candles, caught in conversation. While the Aussies didn't seem super stoked on the power being out and the complete lack of internet in the valley, I spent the night enjoying the tranquility of solitude. Hearing the sounds of the rain trying to compete with the roaring river only a few hundred feet away. 

Backyard of the place we stayed at. So many flowers!

The following morning, we began a beautiful trail hike out of Huancancalle. It was an overcast morning, as almost all are up in the mountains here. With it being the rainy season, the rivers were flowing fast and the flora consumed every crevasse of the beautifully green slopes. There were beautiful indigo berries, ten foot long ferns, and red pointed plants that seemed to grow on every level branch within the trees. The level of symbiosis among flora here is amazing. Certain plants grow only around certain others, some only grow directly on others, and some help to protect others. It amazes me the more and more I begin to notice the minute parts of a system that seem so simple. The ruins of Rosaspata – Vitcos were overwhelming at minimum. I had seen numerous ruins from roads, always with a good distance between them and I. This however, was the first time I had been right up to them, touching the actual stones. I will not try to pass over the fact that I have never cared about rocks in my life. I wish I could say they've always fascinated me and that I wondered how every rock was formed, but I really could care less. That being said, standing among some of these ruins is powerful enough to make anybody wonder. These rocks are carved absolutely perfectly into the shape that best fits its place in the wall. Carved out of a quarry, possibly miles away, and transported to a place where it would be used as a representation of precision and strength. Bathrooms naturally made private using walls without doors, carved anchoring points for roofs, and holes through walls in which a board could be placed to indicate “Don’t come in”. Locks where never used in Incan times. People simply respected the fact that if a board was across a door, they probably shouldn’t enter.

The river that overpowered the spattering of rain on the roof. The place we stayed in was the closest one to the left of the picture. Wonderful family.

Beginning of the hike.

This lichen/mold only grows on the ends of leaves of this specific plant. I'm assuming this is because the plant's defense is weaker at the ends. The lichen/mold also helps defend the plant from predators though. Pick your battles I guess?

Imagine a civilization building hundreds, possibly thousands, of these in their short 135 year existance.

The holes carved in these rocks were used to anchor some sort of roof.

View from the ruins.

Continuing up the hike, we moved through the gardens heading towards Yurac Rumi (aka “White Rock”). There are numerous waterfalls coming off the terraces in this area. Each waterfall empties into a bath before continuing on down the garden. I’ll refer back to the waterfalls later. At the top of the garden, you reach Yurac Rumi, considered by many to be the most beautiful piece of Incan artwork. It’s an absolutely massive rock with carvings all over it. Carvings accomplished before the time of metal or simple machines. The stones were carved with harder river stones collected from the numerous rivers in the area. I had seen the rock in photos, yet it didn’t prepare me at all for the grandeur of it's detail and size. Most Incan history has been completely lost due to the Spanish and therefore people must choose between what they believe is fact and fiction. Although, there is a more commonly accepted historical idea behind the area. It was a place enjoyed by utmost elite citizens only. While common people were traveling near it daily to deliver food and supplies, they were never allowed to turn the last corner and actually see it. The Inca would spend his time there, basking in the peacefulness of the valley. Occasionally, there would be a virgin from the lower towns that would offer herself to the Inca. She would walk up the valley, free of any footwear, until she reached the garden. She would then bathe in each waterfall on the way up, cleansing herself for the Inca. When she reached the top, she was said to be purified, but would still have to prove her virginity. Atop Yurac Rumi, there’s a channel carved into the rock with a seat carved above the uphill side. The virgin would sit in the recession and urinate into the channel, where a shaman would determine if she was a virgin. It’s not fully clear what method they believed to be accurate at determining this.

First of about five waterfall baths in the garden.

Notice the pointy red plants that grow in the trees. I've been informed by my friend Becca that they're called bromeliads She says: "They're epiphytes, which means they grow on other plants, usually ending up in trees in the rainy season when it floods, and since they don't root in the soil they live off nutrients in the air!"

White Rock complete with a white gringo.

Benches carved out below White Rock.

Channel and sitting area the virgin would urinate into.

 The uphill side of White Rock.

Cutest caterpillar I've ever seen. I wanted to put it in my pocket!

The bike ride back down to Beer Town was high speed and full of beautiful scenery. Bumpy dirt road for miles and miles on end. The moment that stands out most in my mind was bombing through a small little town along the way. As I’ve said before, Peruvians are fully convinced that all Americans are Tom Cruise. They LOVE seeing us be extreme! This little town contains a main road with a single ninety-degree turn in it. Peruvians tend to huddle together when anything is going on and this corner was clearly the place to be. On this day, it was a group of preadolescent kids. As I rode by, they cheered as loud as they could, trying to run as fast as me while I sped by. I could tell it was the highlight of their day.  

Banana tree galore! I felt like Donkey Kong.

Personal cheer squad.

Giving a local chimbolo (the local slang term for a kid) a high five right after he raced me on  bike with one pedal. His friends pushed him to get him going.

Arriving at the bottom, we proceeded to take another roller coaster ride to the fully jungle village of Santa Teresa. Plantations of bananas, coffee, mangoes, avocado, and papaya farther than the mountains allow one to see. Staying in an ecolodge, it was time to take my first Peruvian shower. Yes five days of extensive exercise without a shower. Words would not be able to explain the pain your nose would go through if you smelt me then. I gathered my things and found myself in the most beautiful outdoor shower I had ever seen. Atop the side of a large drop, it was open to the forest on one side. There were birds flying from tree to tree, looking to see which provided the plumpest bugs. Standing in it's warmth, I relaxed and enjoyed the view. I later discovered the entire group took freezing showers because they didn’t know it was an electrically heated showerhead that needed to be turned on. Afterwards, it felt necessary to try their own Eco Quechua cocktails, chalked full of rum, pineapples, oranges, bananas, and mangos. It seemed like more of a smoothie than a cocktail to be, but that’s even better! Some good laughs were shared and stories told over a delicious dinner. Everything about this place was new to me. Sleeping in a bed with mosquito nets, taking a shower outdoors, and massive fruits up for the taking.

One of the huts at the ecolodge. The weather was superb.

Twice the size of any avocado I've seen in the states. All free!

The next morning, we started our day with full doses of adrenaline. About 10 minutes away from the lodge is a zip-line tour that gives one a bird’s eye view of the entire valley. Coping with my curdling stomach and biggest fears, I double-checked all the equipment they had set up. My first doubts occurred when they didn’t double-back any of the harnesses. I almost took the harness off right then and walked away. The cliché idea of only living once ran through my head though and I immediate decided I was doing it no matter what. Observing a bit more, I found each zip-line post to have three failsafes. Good enough for me!

Still taken from a video. I hope you enjoy the silly expression!

Dangling!

Even being fully harnessed and a fairly adventurous person, it took all of my courage to let go to the point where my feet were above my head.

The next step in the trip was a short four-hour hike from the hydroelectric dam near Santa Teresa to another jungle town called Agua Calientes (Meaning “hot water”, due to all the hot springs in the area.) The hike travels along a beautiful river called Rio Urubamba. Supposedly, house-size rocks are normally fully exposed in the riverbed, yet the water was so high they couldn’t be found. The constant sound of massive boulders being pushed along beneath the water could be heard. The jungles here are so mundane to the locals. I’d come across a massive millipede and would be jumping with joy at the experience, while the locals laughed and probably called me a gringo. I’d like to see they’re expression upon coming across an elk or mere seagull in the states! 

Millipede motion.

Arriving in Agua Calientes.

Arriving in Agua Calientes, I was right beneath Machu Picchu. Looking up, I could see its massive terraces on the hillside. I pondered it for a while and decided I would wait to see it. It may seem silly to travel thousands of miles and pay so much money to arrive at the base without venturing the last few minutes. However, I can only imagine how powerful the experience will be. An experience I’d rather share with somebody I love, rather than five Aussies I had just met a few days before. I’ll be back. On that note, I jumped on a train for the hour and a half trip back to Ollanta.