Ayacucho to Paucara

Leaving Ayacucho, we walked past the bus station at the edge of town and down into a narrow river 'quebrada' then ascended a small mountain to cross into another river valley. It was a hot day, though thankfully a cool breeze was blowing through the valley as clouds built in the distance. We stopped in a town to sit in the shade and drink cool beverages before continuing up to the tiny town of La Vega. There was no hostel in town, so we asked about camping and were told we could camp in town and they would keep an eye on us. As we wandered towards a place to camp, a local shop owner came up and offered us their neighbor's house. We weren't sure, but followed yet another stranger into their house. His wife was sweeping the floor, preparing for our arrival. We ended up camping out in their front room. As a thunder storm rolled through ouside, we chatted with the family inside before going to sleep for the night.

Waking up the next morning, we ate a quick breakfast and walked on. During the night I had gotten ill, so I was moving slowly and not feeling great. The weather commiserated with my mood, and a slow drizzle began as we made our way along. I was shuffled along at what felt like a snails pace. Thankfully there was a larger town ahead and a shortcut to it. We made it into the town of Huanta as the skies cleared that afternoon and found a place to stay. I immediately took my soaked clothes off and fell asleep, only waking to eat a bit of dinner and drink some water before the next morning.

I felt infinitely better the next day, but still didn't want to push it. We opted to carry less weight and walk down to a bridge, then come back to Huanta to give me a chance to rest more. We walked most of the day, descending into a wide river valley. As we descended, the weather got hotter and I was glad to have enough water and my umbrella for the last stretch. We made it back to Huanta that evening and I was able to get some more rest.

We set out the next day, shoving ourselves and our stuff into a moto-taxi to get back to the bridge. The valley florr sat at 2,100 meters(6,800 feet) and we had a 2,000 meter(6,500 foot) ascent to get out of the valley. The sun was relentless and the shade non-existent as we made our way up and up. Criss-crossing the road, I was glad to have shortcuts to bypass the multitude of switchbacks. The aridness of the climb was intriguing- though it was obvious water shaped the land, there was no water along the mountain sides, only in the river snaking along the valley floor. We ended up camping before the small town of Marcas because I was still recovering from illness and ascents are exhausting.

Making it through Marcas in the morning, we were able to get some supplemental foodstuffs and walk on. We left the road and began following the Inca trail to go up and over a pass. Lunching at the pass, a local man came up to chat with us for a bit before making his way back to his herd of sheep. As we made our way along the descent, I noticed an ominous cloud across the valley, slowly but surely moving towards us. I watched the lightning strike the far peaks as we curved along the mountainside.
Fidgit and I began hearing the thunder roll across the valley and the breeze picked up. The clouds covered the sun and we began looking for a spot to take refuge. We happened across a dirt road and a passing local told us about a nearby town. We made our way to the pueblo as the rains began. By the time we made it to town and found our way to a small room in someone's backyard that they sometimes rent out, the skies had opened and the downpour lasted a couple hours. We cooked dinner by the light of my headlamp dangling from the ceiling (because the power had been out in town for a couple of days) and tucked into our beds for the night.

Waking up to partly cloudy skies, we made our way along after breakfast. The Inca trail and road were the same at times, though sometimes the trail was straighter as the road wound into the nooks of the mountainside. It was always nice to be off the road, and finding the Inca trail and seeing the centuries of wear along it is amazing. I'm so glad to see these routes still being used today. We made our way into the town of Paucara in the midst of a hail storm, thunder echoing off the steep valley sides. Rainy season is nearing an end down here, but the storms are still nothing to scoff at. We have been lucky along this stretch to be mostly off-road while still being near towns if we do need to bail to avoid lightning strikes/gnarly weather.

Paucara to Huancayo

Leaving Paucara, I nocticed we had made our way into the 12th parallel, meaning we were at 12 degrees south from the equator. I was so excited because we had been moving through the 13th parallel since the end of last season. The Andes in this part of Peru curve to the west, causing our route to do so as well, and not making northern progression as quickly had been wearing on me. "We're finally going north again!", I thought excitedly as we made our way along the edge of the road out of Paucara.

We made our way up a wide valley, short-cutting the switchbacks of the road before finding a more direct pathway up to a pass at 4,100 meters(13,400 feet) where we stopped for lunch. It was the day before easter, so the campo seemed calm and quiet as we continued our way along our route, finishing the day at one of the more beautiful campsites we'd stayed at in a while.

We slept well and in the morning continued along the valley edge, following a conveniently placed aquaduct to another trail. These paths led us along and down to another valley floor and a small town. It being Easter Sunday, we didn't expect anything to be open so were pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a Grandmotherly woman standing in front of her shop. She sold us cold sodas and some bread and we sat in the shade of her awning to consume them before moving on. We stayed along the valley floor the rest of the day, passing through a couple more small towns before finding camp along the railroad tracks. I had developed a nose and chest cold, so I was grateful for the lower elevation(we were down below 9,00 feet!), though the heat of the day had taken its toll and I was ready to stop when we did. Fidgit and I looked at our route versus following the railroad tracks and decided to continue along the tracks. We would make it to the same place with only a few kilometers difference in distance to do so. We would also avoid an unnecessary 300 meter elevation gain, so we were excited.

Leaving our campsite the next morning, we were interested in seeing what kind of ground we could cover on a railroad gradient. As we progressed through the day, the railroad grade was nice, but the loose heel-sized stones that covered the tracks were not. The railway wound its way along the side of the valley with multiple tiny pueblos along the way. The views were amazing when I had a chance to look up from making sure my next step wouldn't cause me to trip and fall. We had lunch at a stop building along the tracks, and found some water in a fifty-five gallon drum to replenish our empty water bottles. Our feet were struggling, especially Fidgit's- she had developed red splotches between her arches and the ball of both of her feet which were painful every step at this point. After lunch, we walked on as best we could, finishing our day with an admirable 37 kilometers(23 miles) logged.

After asking in the nearby pueblo, we slept in the railway station at the edge of town. The next morning we attempted to sleep in only to be woken by a local woman dropping something off at the station, presumably to be picked up by a passing train that day. We grunted and grumbled as we packed up, sore and dehydrated from the previous day's efforts. Since we had covered so much ground the day before, we were able to walk/limp into the city of Huancayo by early afternoon. I hadn't showered since Ayacucho, and with the heat I felt bad as we made our way through town to our accomodations for the night. We made it, showered, stuffed our faces and slept comfortably in another new city.

Huancayo to Cerro De Pasco/Road 100

Huancayo is a large city, containing many different sections within. We chose to slack (walk with only day packs) out of the city to avoid having to stress out about carrying everything we own through crowded streets. Walking through a busy city without full packs on, we were able to look around and have a more enjoyable experience. A great thing about every city we've experienced here in South America is that there is no suburban sprawl, so we go straight from busy city out into the campo. Fidgit and I walked through Huancayo along the sidewalk, and transferred over to the railroad tracks as we moved into the countryside. The tracks took us along the valley floor, paralleling Rio Mantaro. After a day of walking, we came back into Huancayo for the night.

Huancayo is at the southern end of a large valley, so we spent the next couple days walking along the valley and through the many small towns that were dotted along the railroad tracks. We approached the town of Jauja (pronounced 'how-ha')at the northern end of the valley just as an afternoon thunderstorm rolled through. Fidgit and I donned our rain jackets and made our way into town for the night. We were meeting a friend of a friend that evening, so we quickly dropped our things at the hostel and went across town to meet him.

Fidgit had been in touch with Pedro for a couple weeks, and he invited us to be on his local radio show. We walked into the radio studio and Pedro immediately put us on the air, interviewing Fidgit about the trip. It was a spanish language conversation, so even though I was invited to participate I turned down the opportunity because I didn't feel my spanish skills could keep up with two fluent speakers. After the radio show, we had a late dinner with Pedro and his friend, Kique. Pedro then invited us to join him the next day for a tour around a local Reserva (he's also a local guide). That sounded very interesting, so after discussing between us, Fidgit and I agreed to join him for the day.

We met Pedro the next morning in the town square and headed towards the small town of Huaripampa. The Reserva was right outside of Huaripampa, and we walked up a steep hill and through a quebrada with Pedro pointing out different areas of historical interest along the Ancient Inca 'road' we were walking. We went about 7km throughout the day, and there were ruins and many other sites of archeological interest in such a small area. After a day of trying to comprehend spanish explanations while walking up and down steep roads, I was excited to get back to the hostel and relax. Being an introvert in such community-minded countries can be trying at times.

The next day, we left Jauja, and Pedro came along. He met us in the town square with his backpack and we all walked out along the road before cutting off onto a dirt 2-track. We followed the track until lunch when another of Pedro's friends met us, and we all walked along the valley's Inca Trail into the small town of Tingo. After talking with the school master, we set up camp in the school yard and tucked in for the night.

The next morning, we arose early and made sure to pack up before school started. All four of us then left Tingo via the Inca Trail that ascended up to 4,200 meters and hung out up there until it dropped into the next valley. Pedro's friend left us at the pass, and the three of us walked on, seeing how far we would make it that day. Fidgit wasn't feeling well, so we were trying to figure out what would be the best plan for the next couple of days. We had a late lunch before descending to the small town of Huanca and we all rode into the city of Tarma. We then parted ways with Pedro and headed to a place with hot water and comfortable beds so Fidgit could get some rest and hopefully recouperate.

From Tarma, Fidgit and I were able to walk along an area of the Inca Trail that cut across above the city while also allowing Fidgit to rest and work on getting better. We walked from Huanca through Tarmatambo and, following the Inca Trail, went up and over a pass and down to the small town of Cochas Bajas. We also took some time off-trail to multitask- getting work done and Fidgit resting to get over her cold.

Officially leaving Tarma, we walked up another valley and promptly dropped into another long valley. Walking along railroad tracks parallelling the road, we saw so many trucks passing by. Soon enough we found these trucks were going to and from the many mines along the vast valley floor. Fortunately, there was also Inca Trail along the valley floor that we were able to follow along the Western side of Lake Chinchaycocha, which is nestled inside a small National Reserve. From the town of Junin at the south end of the lake we were able to walk along without much elevation gain or loss which is nice when you're already at 4,000 meters.

After a couple days of walking, the Reserve ended and we walked into the town of Vicco, then along another dirt road that skirted a huge mining operation to get back onto the Inca Trail. We had wanted to take the trail the entire way, but much of it was under water at the end of this rainy season.

The next section was a bit tricky, so we found a way to walk it from the north end (at a road ambiguously named Road 100) going south from just outside the city of Cerro de Pasco. The 'trail' was more visible at the north end, so we followed it down to where we hadn't been able to seee anything on google earth pro and were able to follow our GPS route through the fields and over many fences along the way. We did end up getting our feet wet during a hail storm that blew across the valley flats and us that afternoon. Thankfully the sun came out after the storm and I was able to warm up before we made our way back into Cerro de Pasco for the night. We then diverged a bit from our original plan to travel laterally and dip into the Huayhuash Mountain trekking circuit that goes through some amazing peaks.