Day 3 on the Salkantay Trail

We had a choice to make:

1. We could follow our original itinerary, doing a fairly short hike to Playa, where we would have the afternoon free and camp that night. The following morning, we would do a fairly intensive hike up a mountain where we would get a distant view of Machu Picchu.

2. We could hike to Playa, then jump on a two-hour bus ride to hot springs in Santa Teresa. After enjoying the hot springs, we could bus back to Playa and do everything mentioned above.

3. We could hike to Playa, go to the hot springs, camp there and hike out from there the following morning. This hike would be almost entirely flat.

Exhausted from the elevation changes during the previous two days, we all decided that Option 3 sounded like a good call.

Day 3 took us through the rainforest, where we crossed a dozen or so Indiana Jones-style bridges, and we even traversed the side of a mountain that was clearly being eroded by landslides.

We hiked through very small communities that appeared to be set up entirely to service the hikers on the Salkantay Trail, offering cold drinks, chips and bathrooms.

I made a few friends on the trail.

Even the “easy” days on the Salkantay Trail are tough. On the third day, we went about seven miles, ending at lunch around 2 p.m. Other than the fact that nearby road construction had shut down the water – and therefore the toilets – lunch was delightful, complete with a cold cerveza.

The bus ride was interesting. We were stopped twice about 45 minutes into the two-hour ride. I didn’t really understand what the passersby were saying, but it appeared that they were saying to turn back. A few miles later, it became apparent.

There was a bulldozer blocking the road ahead. The driver and both groups’ leaders jumped out of the bus to talk the construction crew. I was convinced we were looking at a delay of at least two hours, but the driver jumped back in about 10 minutes later, fired up the bus and started driving. The side door was open right next to me, and as the bus threaded the needle through the construction, I was staring down at a sheer drop just inches to my right. Thank goodness for talented bus drivers. (Note: Do not ask Fran about this because she slept right through it.)

Prior to this ride, Fran and I had created what we referred to as the worst drinking game of all time. Every time you heard a song that was released during any decade other than the 1980s, you had to drink. We’d been in Peru almost a week at that point, and I think we heard one song from the 1990s and one from the 2000s.

The bus driver, however, was blasting recent dance hits. It was a good thing we weren’t playing the game during that ride.

We pulled into the hot springs a little after 4 p.m. Built right into the side of the mountain next to a roaring river, they springs were in a beautiful setting. And we had the added benefit of having women selling snacks and beer just steps from our tents.

After relaxing our aching muscles in the hot springs, we all gathered around some tables, enjoying popcorn and cervezas until dinner.

I’ve mentioned Ruben a few times, but I haven’t gone into much detail. He is the perfect group leader, especially for treks like this. Ruben has Inca heritage, and he cares deeply about learning and teaching the history, while mixing in a good dose of humor and fun. His English is excellent, and he knows the area well, naming all of the flowers and pointing out the coffee, passion fruit and banana farms along the way. He also has a keen eye for spotting things along the way from caterpillars in cocoons to millipedes scurrying on the trail.

During happy hour on this night, Ruben told us about the indigenous people refusing to go out when it’s foggy. Apparently, there have been reports of people losing organs from their bodies, and the local people believe it’s caused by the “foggy.” In reality, according to Ruben, it’s simply bad people who steal the organs to sell on the black market, and it’s easier to do when it’s foggy. Right as he finished trying to scare us, every light at the hot springs went out. It was excellent timing. And, fortunately, when the lights came on, we all had the same amount of organs as we did during the telling of the story.

Hiking into Playa, Peru for lunch.

It was strange to settle into a sweltering heat inside our tents that night, considering we had been on the brink of freezing just two nights prior. The temperature changes also did not do much to help the smell inside the tents. Of course, we probably had something to do with the smell, too. Regardless, I made sure every possible vent was open in the tent, including one that I insisted Fran open with its 1.5 inches of additional air flow, while still keeping it sealed enough to keep the bugs away.

I slept outside my sleeping bag most of the night. And, thanks to one of our fellow hikers, Fran used an over-the-counter super drug from Canada and finally got a good night’s sleep, despite the cough and cold she was still suffering. We later discovered that the “super drug” is called Dramamine in the U.S.

Perhaps one fact helped us sleep better: this was our last night in tents. The next day we would hike into Aguas Calientes, where we would sleep in a hotel before heading up the hill to Machu Picchu.

We were starting to get antsy. But we were ready.