Thursday, June 28, 2012

Breath-Taking Part 2: Snow to Jungle

A quiet night in Copacabana had found us reading through a book I had brought along on the trip entitled ¨Trekking in the Central Andes.¨ Upon flipping through, Sam had stumbled upon a hike that sounded right up our alley. The route followed an ancient Inca trade road, starting just outside of La Paz in the Bolivian altiplano - highlands - rising up to a high mountain pass, and then plunging through an array of changing scenery into the jungle, some 4000m (two and a half vertical miles) down. The book described the trek as a 4 or maybe 3 day affair, covering about 50km of rugged terrain. We decided to attempt it in two long days.

Besides the fact that we were trying to squeeze this hike in on top of an already reasonably busy planned time in Bolivia, part of the rational with our attempting the trip in two days was that it meant we could pack much lighter. We brought a small tent, but only needed to carry food for two days. We didn´t bring a stove, but most relied on bread, some fruit, chocolates, and a South American caramel spread called manjar.

Packing up before the trek


The morning we were supposed to leave our hostel in La Paz, I woke up in the middle of the night with food poisoning and spent an hour vomiting. When our alarm went off at 6am, I didn´t know if I´d be able to make it out of bed, let alone make it over our planned 25km of hiking. Somehow, Sam managed to get me out of bed and onto the local bus which would take us to la cumbre - the peak - which was the high point on a road out of La Paz where we would begin our journey.

The first part of the trek was the only serious uphill segment. We began walking on a barren expanse at about 4500m. From there, we had to climb up to the high point on the climb, a snow-covered pass at 4900m. Having been sick in the morning and carrying a heavy back with two days worth of food, I really struggled to make my way up the trail. After half an hour of feeling like I was on the verge of death, Sam saved me and took a great deal of the weight - water, heavy food, the tent - out of my pack. With a suddenly lighter load, I felt like I could finally make it up the trail and we found ourselves at the pass, looking down into a huge valley below.

Looking down from the high pass at 4900m

With the toughest part of the climb over and my appetite coming back, I felt a reknewed sense of energy as we admired the view and began our long descent into the sweeping valley below.

The sun had risen and the skies were cloudless as we followed the Inca stonework down a steep series of switchbacks from the high pass into the flat valley bellow. We passed a herd of llama and an indigenous woman making their way up the same trail - it almost seemed too appropriate.

 
The proud llamas on the way down into the valley

At the bottom, we stopped for a quick snack break and then kept going. Feeling better now, the two-day plan seemed feasible, but still intimidating. We kept moving. The terrain was easy in the valley, as the trail paralleled the river and very gently descended towards the horizon to the west. We made good time as we made our way through the scrubby grass and moss, which, as we descended, became thicker grass and the occasional tree.

 
Sam leading the way down through the altiplano along the Inca road

We passed a small village where we caught up to a group of French hikers with a guide. The guide asked where we were going and we told him the small village of Choro - our target which was situated right at the halfway point of the trek. In spanish he replied, ¨and then tomorrow?¨ to which we answered ¨Coroico¨ - the end point of the trek.

¨Dos dìas!?¨ - two days?! - the guide exclaimed. The look of surprise on his face made us a bit nervous that maybe we had bit off more than we could chew, but we soldiered on.

As we continued, the grass became thicker, the trees became more plentiful, and the air became warmer and more humid. Eventually, we passed through another small town where we stopped for lunch. Almost immediately afterwards, the trail plunged into a deep ravine where we got our first look at what lay ahead. The stark, barren grasslands fell into the gorge which was filled with lush green vegetation. The trail, which up until now had been easy to spot for miles in the distance, disappeared into the dense forest. We were heading into the wilderness.
To the left, the trail drops steeply into the hot jungle

For the rest of the day, the going became much more difficult and slow. The trail, which had been a gently descending footpath, devolved into a series of worn stone stairs which switched back and forth along the side of the humid, jungley gorge. Because of the never-ceasing waterfalls coming from the glaciers high above, the stone steps were almost always damp, making the going tricky and slow as we tried not to slip and fall the 1000 feet down to the raging river below us.

After 10 hours of hiking and about 25km of distance covered, we finially found ourselves in the tiny hamlet of Choro. This trip truly redefined what I think of as ¨a town.¨ Choro, called a town on our map, was really one family´s home, perched on an outcrop overlooking the jungle and river below. Nonetheless, the people were unbelievably friendly, inviting us into their home, offering us food, drink, and a place to camp. We set up our tent in a small grassy knoll, had dinner, and promptly crawled into our sleeping-bags and fell asleep.

Our campsite overlooking the jungle gorge

It had been a long day, especially with my being sick in the morning, but we knew as we woke up on the second day that we had to do it all again. Unfortunately, as I got out of the tent, it turned out it had been Sam´s turn to be sick. Luckily, we had allowed ourselves three days to complete the trip (we had reserved a trip to the south of Bolivia which left after that 3rd day), so if we couldn´t make it in two days, it wasn´t the end of the world. We decided to set off anyways and see how far we could get and how we both felt.

The day began similar to the first day´s end, with steep, wet, rock steps leading down towards the river. From there, the terrain was much easier, but instead of the simple descent we had been used to began to climb up away from the river. This pattern would continue for most of the day as we followed along the right side of the descending jungle cañon. We would descend to almost the bottom of the cañon floor and then head back up the wall again until we had to cross another small tributary stream. The trail was fairly exposed, though, and we were low enough that as the sun came up it got very hot very quickly.


Making our way through the dense, tropical forest

The heat took a toll on both of us, but mostly Sam as he was already dehydrated from a night of being sick. We stopped for a long time, but managed to make it to the next town, where we were able to buy some sodas and powerade to try to help get our strength back. From there, it was another hour or so to the next town, where we knew there would be nice places to stay and camp. We decided to go there and probably stop but just see how we felt.

Luckily, the soft drinks seemed to work because we got to our last stop and decided we had the strength to keep going. Neither of us wanted to spend an extra night in the tiny tent and it was worth the trouble to try to make it back to La Paz and sleep in a real bed.

It was after 4pm as we left the final town. With no where between this last stop and the end of the trek, we had no choice but to make it at this point. A local boy we passed on the way out of town told us that it was three hours, which would get us there well after dark, but according to our map, which had been trustworthy so far, we´d be fine. In the worst case, the trail was clear and we would use our headlamps the last hour if need be.

I was really hoping it wouldn´t come to that and so as rusty corrugated steel roofs began to appear in the valley below us, I nearly whooped with joy. We made our way down the final steep descent and found ourselves in a town which may as well have been in the central African jungle somewhere. The jungle was thick and steamy, even at dusk, and the vegetation was unlike anything I´ve ever seen.
Our last stop: the jungle town of Coroico, the start of our long journey back to La Paz


Exhausted, we found the main street and asked around about transportation back to La Paz. A man offered to drive us to the next town over, where we´d be able to get a colectivo - a mini-van jammed full of locals - back to the city. We took him up on his offer and within 10 minutes found ourselves in the pitch black jungle night. We had made it just in time.



Coming up next: A trip to the barren Southern Altiplano - high plains - and Bolivia´s famous Salt Flats.


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