Copyright Arkansas Online
CUZCO, Peru -- After hiking around the Andes Mountains for a week, climbing Pinnacle Mountain is child's play. My son Ethan treated me to a trip to Peru for my birthday from Oct. 27-Nov. 2. It was my first outdoors adventure outside of the United States since a fishing trip in Mexico's Sea of Cortez in 2017. Physically, it was the most arduous week of my life, and I am grateful that I was equal to the challenge. Entirely self-taught, Ethan speaks Spanish fluently. Joining us was Ethan's friend Julian Munoz of Medellin, Colombia. Ethan met Munoz through an online service in which native speakers communicate with non-native speakers over Skype or FaceTime. They became friends through this medium, and Munoz accompanies Ethan through his frequent trips to South America. They eliminated the language barrier, which made it a lot easier to get around and get recommendations to good restaurants and attractions. They also serve as middlemen when negotiating purchases for native-made goods. Munoz especially knows what things like alpaca wool garments should cost. With subtle head shakes, he kept me from overpaying for a lot of things. Ethan's goal was to visit Machu Picchu, Rainbow Mountain (which locals call "Vinicunca") and other historical Incan sites. Starting at dawn, we rode a crowded bus for two hours from Cuzco to Ollantaytambo. From there, we rode a train through remote countryside to Aguas Calientes (Hot Springs). On the train we met Emil Glenstrup, Albert Linke and Malthe Birkelund of Denmark. They served together in Denmark's King's Jutlandic Regiment of Foot. Their service had ended, and they were touring South America. They were intensely interested in the southern American lifestyle. When I showed them photos of my then 8-year-old grandson holding a dead squirrel with a shotgun perched on his shoulder, they were utterly enchanted. We also shared a table with an urbane hotelier from Morocco named Aziz. He speaks about 10 languages and touted Morocco's outdoor tourism. Algeria, he said, ehhh, not so much. From Aguas Calientes, we and the Danes rode another bus to the Machu Picchu visitor center. From there, it's a vertical ascent to Machu Picchu, elevation about 8,000 feet. I work out religiously, but nothing you can do in Arkansas fully prepares you for the thin Andean air. Every step is a struggle for breath. Setting a manageable pace for yourself is critical to prevent walking from being torturous. Our guide Freddy said that four tribes comprised the Inca Empire, and that "Inca" was merely the emperor's title. Machu Picchu, he added, was the Inca's home, like Buckingham Palace is to the British monarch. Cuzco was the empire's capital. Runners relayed messages from Cuzco to Machu Picchu via the Inca Trail, an elaborate stone footpath. It took runners about five days to make the trip, alternating every 30 miles in a fashion similar to the Pony Express. Runners, Freddy said, began training at age 9 and retired at age 30 to train young runners. Kay Barre of Little Rock, who teaches Spanish at Little Rock Catholic High School, hiked the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu from Bolivia in her 20s. She said it was a defining moment and highlight of her life. Photos do not remotely capture Machu Picchu's splendor. The setting is cinematic, but trying to grasp the magnitude of the effort and engineering to build such a city in such an inaccessible spot is incomprehensible. Freddy said that the Inca Empire lasted only 150 years, and that Machu Picchu actually represents the combined efforts of multiple cultures that conquered one another over many centuries. The Quechua was the last native culture to inhabit the city before the conquistador Francisco Pizarro killed Atahualpa, the last Inca, in 1533. Because we didn't follow some bureaucratic procedure, we were kicked off our tour to the Sacred Valley on the second day. This was a blessing. For $100, we hired a driver that took us on an even better tour, including stops at the Inca salt mine (Salineras de Maras) and to the terraced bowls at Moray. A surreal experience occurred when we stopped for lunch at the Mountain Experience in the Sacred Valley. It is a high-quality restaurant and inn squarely in the middle of nowhere. As we began our meal, in walked Arcangel and his entourage. Arcangel is probably the world's second most popular rap artist next to Bad Bunny. Several llamas entered the restaurant through an open door and began eating Arcangel's salad. Ethan and Munoz were overjoyed when Arcangel posed with them for photos. Our last big adventure was to Rainbow Mountain, one of the most photographed sites in Peru. At 16,522 feet, it is nearly twice the elevation as Machu Picchu. To reach it from the bus debarkation requires a steep climb of 2,624 feet that covers 8 miles round trip. It was snowing, and the wind blew about 30 mph. Altitude sickness is a major concern at that elevation. Alpiners in the United States advised us to chew coca leaves and drink coca tea. Our guide advised against it. Coca increases your heart rate, he said, and while you might get some temporary benefit at first, you will crash when the coca wears off. Ethan used it and became very ill. He compared the sensation to drowning. Instead of walking a straight line upward, I wove a slow, serpentine path up the trail. This reduces the slope of each step and the associated fatigue. I reached the summit in good condition. Munoz, who stayed close beside me, never once labored for a breath. When we reached the summit, fog obscured the mountain. All the pilgrims were disappointed. Miraculously, the wind blew out the fog within minutes and revealed the deep colored mineral bands for which the mountain is famous. The crowd gathered at the summit cheered and jumped and danced. Attribute it to oxygen deprivation or adrenaline, but I was hyper-emotional. Maybe it was because I accomplished something very difficult at an age when many of my peers struggle to walk a city block. The health app on my iPhone said I had climbed the equivalent of 54 stories and walked more than 20,000 steps. Doing it with my son was profoundly meaningful. Maybe it was because I realized I might never do anything equal to it again. Whatever the reason, I was ecstatic. I don't charge quite as hard as I once did, but performing at a high level in the diaphanous Andean air made me feel invincible.
