Trekking the Cordillera Blanca

March 9-17:

The Pacific Coast beaches and sand were nice enough, but we longed for cooler climes and higher heights - the Cordillera Blanca of northcentral Peru. The Rio Santa Valley runs between the glacier-capped Cordillera Blanca and the nearly-as-high Cordillera Negra, with a string of Andean towns and the city of Huaraz. The bus trip from the coast at industrial Chimbote was spectacular as we climbed up through the Duck Canyon - twists, turns, the roaring Rio Santa below us, and high mountains and impossible zig-zag walking trails above us. We had to search around to get the day trip through the canyon, but it was worth it as glacier capped mountains were revealed as we got close to Yungay. This town was essentially wiped out in the 1970 earthquake and resulting landslide from Mt. Huascaran, the highest mountain in Peru (6768m). Only some 260 children survived the landslide, sheltered by a visiting circus. One of these children (now our age) was our taxi driver the next day, who took us to the magnificent Llanguanuco Lakes, green from glacial meltwaters flowing off the towering walls of the valley. Here we hiked for four hours, and combined rides with an athlete from the Czech Republic (who was much more ambitious than us!).

We headed to the valley´s central city of Huaraz and woke up the next day to a lovely array of white peaks surrounding us! The mornings started off bright but soon clouded in, often with rain in the mid-afternoon. We enjoyed some nice meals (delectable at Chef Cristof´s!), visited with folks from Belgium, and made arrangements for a 3-day trek into the mountains. Ian was sick for a day or so in town, but we started off in Olleros with fine weather and puzzled greetings from villagers along the way. Corn and other crops soon made way to potato cultivation and then sheep and cattle grazing, with stone corrals and seasonal thatched huts as we gained higher elevations. Besides the occasional herder, there were no people (but lots of cows!) as we climbed, encountering hail then cold, wind-whipped rain. At 3:30 pm we achieved our intended campsite (4000m), set up our rented tent, and quickly dove into our trusty, toasty sleeping bags. We had dried out and warmed up to eat our dinner, Chef Christof´s premade delicious pesto pasta. Early lights out at 7 pm, followed by an early sunny rise the next day. As we climbed, we had fantastic vistas back down the Rio Negro valley and up to glimmering peaks arounds us. We almost took a wrong turn to a southern glacier, but our good map led us onward in the right direction. At high altitudes, our abilities to climb were limited, with frequent stops on the uphills and a quicker pace on the flatter sections. We again encountered hail (which is fortunately not wet), and then reached the teasingly elusive Punta Yanashallash pass at 4700 m, complete with an old rock Inca tomba, or travellers´shelter. Glaciers, small ponds and craggy peaks surrounded us. On the downhill section, we strode along a wonderful stretch of a carefully constructed Inca road, paved and framed with carefully laid rocks - yes, used for half a millenia or more on this traditional route! We marvelled at the construction (beats the longevity of Canadian modern roads, for sure!) as well as the views of layered sediments heaved sideways and the pastoral valley below. The old trail was carpeted in grass, thoroughly nourished by cow dung and ample rivulets, for much of the way to our next campsite beside the river and near some occupied huts. The wind picked up significantly at dusk, and again we enjoyed our premade meals without the need to struggle with a camp stove. Sunshine greeted us at dawn, but our tin pot left outside had vanished - hopefully, to a good home where it will be well used. We had a lovely walk downhill through a winding valley above a deep gorge, sharing the well-built Inca trail occasionally with colourful local sheep and goat herders. We offered some of our leftover food to a gathering group of local kids, who have little education and a limited diet. Almost at the end of our trek, we were stopped by a municipal official who explained that there had been a landslide the day before that had eroded the next short stretch of trail, and that the town had equipment working on it and we would have to wait. Minutes later, he warned of a couple of blasts that ricocheted up the valley and tossed fist-sized rocks nearby amidst a widespread cloud of dust. At the ¨all clear¨ signal, we quickly scrambled across the improvised trail behind the official. At least we didn´t have to retrace our steps back over the pass! Another 3km or so and we arrived at the town of Chavin to find that the archaeological site was closed for the day, but that the hotsprings down the road were open all afternoon ... so after eating our lunch next to a town debate over one car slightly bumping into another, we headed to the hotsprings and soaked our trekking grime off in a private small pool! The cutest dog enticed us to share our chicken dinners with him (just like Rex would!) and we retired to a fine hotel overlooking the main square, complete with duvet covers and cable TV. The following day enabled us to explore the ruins of the 3000 year old Chavin de Huantar temple, the centrepiece of ancient Andean religious activities in Peru (we loved the sign at the edge of town - ¨Chavin: Established 1200 BC¨!). It is recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site for its open plazas, labyrinthian tunnels and chambers, temple, grand doorway, and intricate carbed stones and obeliscs. Impressive, even in the drizzle!

We missed the Chavin museum of artifacts since we needed to catch the bus back over another snow-dusted pass, past a gorgeous mountain-framed lake, to return to Huaraz and the rest of our luggage. A further night in town and then another winding bus trip out of the mountains and back to the desert of the coast. Entering Lima presented huge sand cliffs and surf, followed by the traffic, scattering of signs and intensity of urban Lima. We admired the colonial architecture downtown at dusk and found a hostel in an old colonial house across from (not in ...) the Convent of San Francisco. We adjusted to the change in altitude and landscape briefly before our morning flight from the colonial/current capital of Lima across the Andes southeast to the ancient Inca capital of Cusco.