Page 122 - WINE DINE AND TRAVEL SUMMER 2019 PORTUGAL

hiking in the first light of the day, up and up get too close. When they flared their ears, we
and then up some more.
Ayul wasn’t kidding. The often-arduous climb
taxed my legs and lungs, even though I’d bicy-
cled nearly 400 miles in the week before the
trip - but certainly not in the Andes. And we saw was more than a little anxiety provoking. But I
at least one trekker who turned around because
of altitude sickness.
The closer we got to the pass, the more often
we saw the porters resting - even though most
of them live at villages above 8,000 feet. Then
again, they were carrying packs of nearly 50
pounds. So when they paused, we did too.
Maddie, though, was a trouper and soldiered
on, out hiking me at times. However, I had to
remind myself, she is four-plus decades younger
than her father.
We reached the top of Warmi Wanusca, the
Quechua name for Dead Woman’s Pass about
the same time as two Dutch families who were
doing the trek together.
As the last in their group approached, those
atop the pass hooted and hollered in encourage-
ment. We all paused to record the moment with
our cameras.
After the summit, we descended to our camp-
site for a late lunch and a well-deserved short
nap. Our chef cooked up a delicious meal of
rice, chicken and vegetables for dinner.
The next day, we hiked past more ruins of
Inca outposts and gazed down at the Urubamba
River thousands of feet below us. And we
trekked through a cloud forest at more than
10,000 feet where we spotted colorful fuschias,
orchids, ferns, daisies and other plants. How
odd, I thought, that they could thrive at such
heights.
That evening, we camped at 12,000 feet after
trekking up and over a 12,700-foot pass.
Which, after Warmi Wanusca, was relatively
easy.
The highlight of our campsite was four llamas
that Maddie found enchanting. But we couldn’t
122 WINE DINE & TRAVEL MAGAZINE WINTER/SPRING 2024
stepped back.
The altitude bothered me even in my sleep
and my labored aspirations woke me repeatedly.
Truth be told, not being able to get my breath
made it through the night.
We awoke in the morning to fog drifting up
from the canyons far below. As we hiked toward
the Sun Gate entrance above Machu Picchu,
Ayul told us about the advanced culture of the
Incas, their puzzling lack of a written language,
Peru’s civil war of the 1980s and, of course, his
family.
Most of the hiking on that last section to
Machu Picchu was down or even flat, but some
of the stone steps at the Intipata ruins were ex-
tremely precipitous and Ayul called them the
“gringo killers.”
Once past the Sun Gate, it was another 30-
minute walk to Machu Picchu, where we strolled
around the upper level of the impressive ruins,
a UNESCO World Heritage site that was "redis-
covered" by Yale University's Hiram Bingham in
1911.
That night, we slept at the El Madi Hotel in
Aguas Calientes, a town on the Urubamba River,
more than 1,000 feet below Machu Picchu. A
hot shower and sleeping in a real bed was a
treat.
We returned the next day to Machu Picchu to
explore more of what is called the “Lost City of
the Incas” before we took a domed train back to
Ollantaytambo and then a taxi on to Cusco.
In the midst of the trek, I was seriously re-
thinking my plans to also hike to Everest Base
Camp (elevation 17,598 feet) and the summit of
Kilimanjaro (19,308 feet) in the next few years.
But now that I’m home, well-rested and living
at 873 feet in Madison, Wisconsin, they are
back on my bucket list. Stay tuned…