The Huayhuash in ten photos or one word: 예쁘다

The Huayhuash hike (pronounced why-wha-ash), located near Huaraz, Peru, attracts experienced hikers from all over the world and uh, also, me. The experience changed me forever, especially my appreciation of oxygen. Instead of boring you with thousands of words, I’ve selected ten photos to sum up the experience or one Korean word that I learned from one of my hiking partners: yeppeuda (예쁘다). The meaning? You’ll find out at the end of this post. Now here are my favorite ten photos.

Long shadows 

Every morning of the sixty-six kilometer “mini” Huayhuash hike was like Chinese shadow puppetry. You can see the silhouette of a donkey, Simba, the dog, our tent, and me snapping the photo. Even Simba seemed mesmerized.

Diligent donkeys

The most experienced hikers in our group were the donkeys. They carried our supplies, including five days of food, tents, sleeping bags, and even my butt donut. The donkeys would hike the same trail as the hikers, and would undoubtedly be the first ones to reach the day’s peak as well as the first to arrive at camp.

Insane inclines

What is the Huayhuash trail like? Imagine being on a step master cranked to full blast for five days straight with no oxygen. More on the lack of oxygen later. Elevation gains were roughly 700- 900 meters per day.

First class guides

I selected Enrique’s expeditions as a tour agency, because of the availability dates and good reviews. No high class web design or pampering, or even English speaking guides (no matter what Enrique promises). Still, it was a winning choice, the guides being locals who know the trail like the back of their hands. Herman, our hiking guru, is credited for keeping me alive during the day, making sure I didn’t slip off a steep slope or trip on a rocky path. Benji was the donkey whisperer that kept the donkeys in line, set up camp and cooked four star meals, yes, four stars. I was expecting rice and beans but was blown away by the menu, from french toast omelets to cheese wontons with guacamole.

New shades of blue 

Not even a box of new crayons could match the vibrancy of the colors on the trail, especially the azure sky and aqua lagoons of the Carhuacocha Lagoon pictured below.

Stunning sunsets

At camp, everyone would stop what they were doing to stare at the sky, the colorful display being nature’s fireworks. The second act would be even better– a blanket of constellations covering camp at night, featuring a different cast of stars than the northern hemisphere.

Rough conditions

Yes, I brought my butt donut, which doubled as a pillow at night, and got a stink eye from our donkey whisperer. While the trail was beautiful, ground makes a hard mattress. Huayhuash camp sites do supply a few toilets with flushing johns, but limited trickling faucets and absolutely no showers. I stank, everyone stank and nobody had a good hair day. Some of the swankier tour agencies allowed their hikers to rent an extra donkey to carry hot water. But no cappuccino machines.

Assortment of hikers

I thought I’d be the oldest hiker, but there were dozens of “I’ll hike a mountain, but won’t go over the hill” club. Ha! Lee, a hiker from Korea who was in my group, was older than me, (but he wouldn’t tell me how much older). Brenda, who was the third chico in my group, was on Mexico’s Pan American rock climbing team. I met hikers from Israel, Australia, China, England, Columbia, India, Brazil, Canada, and the USA. Folks from everywhere take on this challenge.

Frosty mornings  

Yes, the nights are cold on the Huayhuash. Frost covers your tent and the camp’s only water spigot freezes. Once you started hiking, you warm up, like an Eggo in a toaster. But once you’d stop? You turn into a human popsicle.

Feelings of euphoria…or is it altitude sickness?

The photo below is of me on the last day of the hike, a 18 km/900 meter decline from camp Pampacuyoc to Huayallapa. While the scenery was lush and studded with waterfalls, I couldn’t enjoy any of it because all I was concentrating on was breathing. Why? I had the dreaded altitude sickness.

I had to rent a donkey the day prior–which was upgraded to a horse–to help me make it up 5200 meters to the Trapezium Pass, and the only out of there (Hey– renting a donkey up a mountain is a lot cheaper than paying for an emergency airlift down). I was terrified– I have hated horses ever since I fell off one TWICE in Scotland on another insane adventure. I jiggled off that horse like a laundry basket on an old washing machine, only to have a group of French equestrians gallop about five feet from my brain.

All I could manage to do on the rent-a-horse was concentrate on breathing. That was in attempt to keep my heart from knocking out my chest. I didn’t dare look at the path: the only thing worse than falling off a horse would be falling off a horse down a steep rocky slope.

The next day–when this photo was taken –I was too dizzy to take in the views, feeling woozy like the time I got drunk in high school on sloe jin. But once we arrived in Huayallapa? My heart stopped pulling a temper tantrum and I felt better. And another hiker, much younger, was riding the horse.

HUAYALLAPA — The mini Huayhuash (five days) ends in Huayallapa, which I believe is a Quechuan word for “I did it!” . We had to pay a toll to enter the city (there are several tolls along the way). Our group bypassed the camp site to stay at a small hotel for 30 soles–about the same price as a six pack of Pilsen– with warm beds, almost-hot shower and some magical thing called wifi. The proprietor’s mother (pictured below with Brenda), enjoyed Good n Plenty candy from the USA. Her dog’s eyes were glazed over with milky cataracts, due to the extreme SUV rays.

The venture back to Lima.

Huayllappa is in the middle of nowhere. Getting back to civilization requires an eleven-hour journey aboard various (collectivos), buses, taxis, and a butt donut, due to a recent injury during coloring time in the classroom (read the previous post) . The roads are insane, sections being washed out by rain or blocked with a landslide of rubble. Expect your vehicle to have to back up if oncoming traffic approaches.

yeppeuda (예쁘다)

Okay, so I can’t count. It takes more than ten photos to sum up the Huayhuash, but only Korean word: yeppeuda (예쁘다). The meaning? Beautiful. I want to thank Lee for teaching me this word, his wisdom, encouragement, and willingness to hike slow if I promised not to speak English fast.