Stay Useless: La Luna de Miel de Brant & Katie: Viva El Peru, pt. 3

July 18, 2013: Guanacpatay to Huayllapa via San Antonio Pass

We awoke to thick clouds, despite the clear weather the night before. We also awoke to puffy faces as the salty food or altitude or both was taking quite a toll on us. As we ate breakfast, the clouds lifted somewhat and gave us hope that we would be able to see something on the pass. We had been told that San Antonio Pass was perhaps the most beautiful place in the Cordillera Huayhuash. Oddly, most treks do not seem to include it. On the way up the pass, we saw a pair of guanacos (essentially, wild llamas). We reached the pass (5,100 m / 16,730 ft) and were greeted by stunning views, despite the lingering clouds. The glacial blue of Laguna Jurau was nearly 2,500 ft. below while the jagged peaks of Sarapo and Siula Grande battled the ever shifting clouds. We gaped at the view and steeled ourselves for a steep descent over scree down to the lake. We ate lunch at the Cutatambo campsite below the Laguna Jurau. Rather than stay there, we had opted to descend all the way down the valley the town of Huayllapa (3,500 m / 11,480 ft) making for over 5,000 ft of descending on this day. The walk to Huayllapa was long and mostly flat, and eventually the town came into view. The landscape near town had been terraced and subdivided into small plots by thick rock walls. We crossed over stone bridges and through small arches, giving the feeling that we had entered Middle Earth. We reached town at last, and setup camp in the town soccer field. The nearby school was still in session and we heard singing. The same song, over and over again. The town itself had no paved roads, but did have electricity, and the school appeared to be new. Dinner was soup, of course, and spaghetti with tuna fish in it. We went to sleep pleased to be at such a low elevation.

Fat faces. Katie actually insisted that I post this.

Low clouds.

Guanacos.

San Antonio Pass.

Descending the scree.

Still descending.

Below the lake and ready for lunch.

In Middle Earth.

Approaching Huayllapa.

July 19, 2013: Huayllapa to Angoshcancha via Punta Tapush.

I awoke feeling crappy, and got worse throughout the morning. I took some Immodium before breakfast, which did little to combat the cereal with strawberry milk and deep-fried, cheese-filled tortillas we were served breakfast. By the time we began hiking, I was shivering despite the relative warmth. After dragging myself up the canyon for an hour, I gave up, took some Cipro and agreed to ride the horse. On the horse, we left Katie and Lidia in the dust, and rallied up the pass. I watched Catalino and Raoul urge the donkeys up the trail, and began to finally warm up. As someone with no horseback riding experience, the rocky trail soon became uncomfortable and then downright painful. I dismounted the horse just below what I believed what the top of Punta Tapush, and walked with Raoul to where we would wait for Katie and Lidia. As soon as we stopped walking, I laid down in the sun and attempted again to get warm. I tried to control my shivering enough to sleep. After lunch, I found that what I had thought was the top of the pass was merely the end of the steep section and we had quite some distance to go, although at a gentler grade. I dragged myself, step by step, for an eternity and the shivering and blinding headache continued unabated. Atop the pass (4,800 m / 15,750 ft so over 4,000 feet of ascending for Katie), there was a cairn whose silhouette resembled a buddha. I'm not sure whether it was the wisdom of the buddha or the antibiotics kicking in (okay, it was probably the antibiotics), but I finally felt like I would make it. Walking downhill instead of up certainly helped. With the aptly named Diablo Mudo at our backs, the descent to Angoshcancha (4,400 m / 14,435 ft) was short. By the time we reached the campsite, it was clear that Katie was beginning to battle the same illness that I had been battling for the previous 12 hours. At tea time, a snow squall rolled through. It cleared at dinner time and became quite cold. Dinner was lomo saltado (salted, stir-fried beef with peppers and french fries), with chicken and rice soup. I shivered for what felt like several hours before finally getting to sleep.

Campsite in Huayllapa.

Katie's favorite: The sign says "Don't throw trash in the river." The building is a bathroom that dumps into the river.

Death rides a horse.

Diablo Mudo, from the south.

Beginning the descent to Angoshcancha.

Diablo Mudo, north side. (The evil side.)

July 20, 2013: Angoshcancha to Jahuacocha via Punta Jaucha

I awoke feeling better and Katie awoke feeling worse. The morning was very cold and hard frost had formed overnight. Breakfast was, mercifully, watery oatmeal and, oddly, cheese sandwiches (odder still, with the crusts removed). Some Tylenol straightened Katie out enough to hike. After numerous ascents which were longer than expected or otherwise misleading, this one was short. What appeared from below to be the top of the pass was, in fact, the top of the pass. The views from the pass (Punta Jaucha 4,850 m / 15,910 ft) were pretty good and the sky was blue, so rather than proceed down from the pass (the typical route), we opted to proceed along the ridgeline to the Cerro Huacrish. As we proceeded along the ridgeline, it seemed as if the entire Cordillera Huayhaush unfolded before us. That combined with the clear skies made this by far the best views of trip. Finally, the skies were clear enough to see several of the summits of the tallest peaks in the range, including Yerupaja. Even our guide was in awe, making it clear that this was a rare treat. We reached the end of the ridgeline and were forced to descend steeply towards Jahuacocha. This was slow going as we descended loose dirt and patches of grass for over 2,000 ft on a solid 35 degree slope. While the number is an estimate, it is not an exaggeration as that is about the pitch where skiing gets interesting, and I much rather would have been on skis for this. We arrived at Jahuacocha (4075 m / 13,370 ft) eager to rest our knees. For whatever reason, the campsite was bustling with three other groups there as well, by far the busiest campsite of the trip. (There had been one other group at Angoshcancha the night before and we had spent the two prior nights as the sole occupants of our campsites.) The site itself is presided over by Jirishinca and Yerupaja's massive west glacier. Upon arrival, Katie reloaded on tylenol and went off for a nap, while I had lunch. Lunch was little flatbread pizzas; easily the worst pizza I've ever had and it was still delicious. Dinner was possibly the saltiest meal yet, a stir-fry of onions and some kind of root vegetable. While this was easily the best day of the trek, we were glad to be almost finished, with only tomorrow's half-day hike to Llamac remaining.

Donkeys coming over the pass.

Katie, suddenly forgetting her illness.

The views were okay.

This. This is why we are here.

Also, this.

The evil hillside we walked down. View from the bottom.

Camp, crowded...

...but beautiful.

July 21, 2013: Jahuacocha to Llamac to Huaraz

We both awoke feeling better than we had in days. Katie slept like a log, thanks to Cipro and tylenol. I'm not sure what we would have done on this trip without Cipro, first and foremost, but also immodium, advil, tylenol and pepto-bismol. Before we departed, we had a group photo taken by one of the locals, who appeared to have never used a digital camera before. He seemed mystified despite the instructions from our guide. Our trek out followed the valley and the river, but soon deviated, staying high along the wall of the canyon, following a path that paralleled an aqueduct. We crossed over a ridgeline and descended steeply into Llamac (3,300 m / 10,830 ft), arriving around noon. The sun was out and it was the hottest it had been for the entire trip, mostly due to the low elevation. We passed through the town square and located our shuttle. We retraced our path back to Huaraz and were dropped off at La Casa de Maruja, the hostel owned by our trekking company. We said our goodbyes to Lidia and Raoul, with Catalino having left us at Llamac as he was bound for the nearby town of Pocpa with his donkeys. We took hot showers first thing. Our next goal -- dinner -- was derailed by a broken doorknob. I had noted when we entered the room that it seemed sketchy, and sure enough it broke, locking both of us in the room with no way to call for help. To get someone's attention, Katie yelled through the tiny bathroom window "Ayudo! La puerta!" to gain the attention of anyone in the hostel to rescue us. Luckily, after a few minutes of yelling, the owner heard us, attempted to open the door, failed and called the locksmith. The locksmith came and repaired it, and by that time, we were starving. We had dinner at a new restaurant called Papa Loca, which was delicious. I had fettucine with pesto and grilled chicken and a very good pisco sour. Katie had a pork sandwich with a side of the best french fries of the trip. It was quite a relief from the salty food we'd had on trek.

Overall, the trek had both incredible highs (amazing scenery and solitude) and lows (crap weather, being sick). We both appreciate it more now that we are back than we did while it was happening. The little annoyances, and even the bigger ones, have faded and given way to gratitude for the grandness of the adventure and vastness of the mountains that are imprinted on our souls.

Left to Right: Lidia, Raoul, Brant, Katie and Catalino.