Shit Equals Salvation!

A holiday to Peru...$1001 - (possibly much more)

A three day trek in the Colca Canyon…$56.45

A 2.5 liter bottle of water at the bottom of the canyon...$4

Getting lost on a ‘trail’ that is washed out, has five hundred meter shear drop offs and is marked with a skull and cross bones on the map….priceless.

The Colca Canyon is a spectacular place offering breathtaking mountains, shear cliffs, wild rivers, the Andean Condor in prolific numbers, and Quechua speaking peoples farming terraces that have existed since pre-Incan times. I traveled there with a Spanish couple and we met an interesting young American couple with whom we set off together on a three day trek to conquer the wilds of the world’s second deepest canyon (the deepest being a stones throw north and a whopping 163 meters more profound).

We had a pleasant descent to the bottom of the canyon and soothed our sore feet the first night in natural thermal baths and eased our trembling stomachs into some fresh-caught river trout.

On the second day we found ourselves at the level of the river and on a trail that climbed over five hundred meters, only to fall back down to the level of the river again where there was an oasis we had set our hopes upon. After a fierce climb (from about 2000 m to 2500 m) and no sight of respite from the mounting elevation we found a small trail that seemed to skirt the side of the mountain…a shortcut.

The shortcut tuned out to be an old mule train, about a foot wide, and that, with the rain of the past few days, had washed out in places and left one with many leaps of faith while facing quite a few hundred meters of tumbling down the side of the mountain, littered with cactus (and nothing else to hold onto) and into the boiling river. Fun times. So fun in fact that one of the women fell into a panic attack over one of the washouts and started hyperventilating.

The trail was also overgrown, not only with cactus, but with a plant that felt like a bunch of thumbs slapping you, and, when you broke a twig off, it spewed a sticky, milk-like substance, all over the offendng culprit.

Just as we got used to this ‘trail from Hell’ it ended, leaving us scratching our heads. There was nothing left to do but follow the ancient Vicuña (like a llama) paths that were even narrower and more haphazard.

The only images going through my head were headlines from newspapers back home, reading 'American tourist plummits 548 meters to bloody death on non-existent trail in Peru's Colca Canyon...remains could only be identified by dental work', or some such thing.

“Here’s some shit!”
“Here’s some more!!”
“Is it fresh?”
"I don't know, I haven't tasted it yet!" (At least we sarcastic bastards hadn't lost our sense or humor)

This is how the next hour or so went. Never, ever, have any of us been so happy to find, smell, analyze, and follow mule shit. That is how we ended up finding a proper trail and stumbling our sorry selves down into the oasis where a pool and cold beer waited (actually it wasn't cold, but I didn't notice....I did notice the price however, and it was steep).

The right side of the canyon hosted our 'camino de muertos'

Later, when looking back over our maps (there were numerous maps of very bad quality) did we discover that the trail that we ended up taking is marked, on one of the maps, with a skull and cross bones. Hindsight is 20/20. Thankful to survive we were given ample time to reflect on our near death experience on our 1200 vertical meter climb (with a 12 kilo pack and ever thinning air) to the rim of the canyon the next day. Talk about fun times!

All in all, the Colca was great…a beautiful place with lots of close up encounter not only with death, but with the majestic condors. Now I’m back in Arequipa, about to head to Cuzco and start a busy but much anticipated month of visitors from the great ol’ US of A.

Suvivors!...me and my Spanish companions on the rim of the canyon