The Canyon of the Condors

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Trip Start Oct 05, 2009 Previous
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  Arequipa, Peru
Wednesday, November 25, 2009

We stumbled into Arequipa a week ago, sleepyeyed from a long bus ride.  Wandering through the beautiful colonial Plaza de Armas in the city center, we reconnected with a pretty French girl that we had met at the ashram, who was reading on a bench.   We spent the day strolling through the cobblestone streets, admiring the elegant 500 year old buildings built from white volcanic rock, and stopping in bookstores looking for new reading material.  It almost felt like we were walking through a European city, until we were served a full four course dinner for a little over one dollar.   We got to bed early that night and caught the first bus to Colca Canyon in the morning. 

A bumpy three hour ride on a rickety local bus over the Antiplano (Highlands), gave us stunning views of the city, the surrounding volcanoes, and fields of grazing alpaca, to the soundtrack of traditional Andean flute music playing over the bus speakers

Chivay Market

.  Locals got on and off the bus often, making their way to work with their farming tools.  The bus descended quickly to the town of Chivay at the mouth of the canyon.  We set up our tent next to Rumi, the alpaca, who guarded the hostel yard.  We checked out the market as the sunset and then took our time enjoying the warm soup.  The local men wore denim and cowboy hats, all of the women had dresses of colorful layers and matching embroidered sequined bowler hats.  Their wind burnt faces, and deep respect for the mountains would be equally at home high in Tibet.  The next morning we woke up and soaked the morning away in some hotsprings that looked out on the valley.  We walked down a path with a local woman talking about the changing ecology of the area...¨not enough rain, polluted river, too many chemicals, mucho cancer.¨  We found a field of alpacas to nap in but were awoken by raindrops.  We rushed back to our tents and endured the storm by playing hearts.  


The next morning we went further into the canyon to the town of Cabanaconde,  a small village at the edge of the 4000 meter valley wall (about twice as deep as the grand canyon).  We found a hostel that let us camp in their yard next to their mules. While looking out at the immense canyon below us, we noticed a waterfall in a valley perpendicular to the main canyon

Alpaca in the Tent!!!

.  We returned to the town and asked locals about the possibility of taking a few days to trek to the waterfall.  They told us that it was doable but that we should pack food for at least three days and expect a strenuous hike, even for the locals that walk the trails at the high elevation regularly. We stocked up on supplies, packed our camping gear and essentials and left our extra gear with Frenchie in the town.

We woke up at sunrise and began the steep traverse down the canyon wall.  We passed beautiful dry plants, a variety of cacti, and huge rock formations.   Giant Andean Condors soared overhead.  When we reached the bottom of the canyon, we passed a geyser that was bubbling the river water and letting off steam which filled the bowels of the canyon.  We rested for a moment and then continued on the trail up the other side, and into the adjacent valley.  We reached a small town of 50 people which prided themselves on the heart that was stained into the wall above their village.  We exchanged pleasantries, shared soda and pretzels and got directions for the remainder of our trek.  They advised us that it would be impossible to find a flat spot to camp before we reached the next town.  The next few hours were excruciating... out of water, out of breath, and cramping all over.  Despite our discomfort, we were well aware of the importance of moving quickly as the half-foot-wide trail next to a 3000 foot drop was not one that could be undertaken in the dark

At the Foot of The Falls

.  We raced the sun to the town and arrived a few minutes before it dropped behind the valley wall.  We were greeted at the entrance of the little town by an old woman with no teeth, mumbling in Quechua as coca leaves spewed out of her  mouth.  A little girl got our attention, and brought us to her families shack where her older sister invited us to camp for the night.  We made a fire and got into our tent at seven o'clock with bellies full of quinua.  The flash of lightning bugs and the sound of the waterfall put us to sleep quickly. 

The next morning we finished the trek to the waterfall, a magnificent 2 kilometer drop to a beautiful pool below.  It was well worth the walk, even if we only had a few minutes to enjoy it before needing to continue our journey.  We were chased out of the valley and to the bottom of the main canyon by dark stormclouds barking thunder and occasionally dumping rain.  We made camp, and hiked directly up the valley wall the next morning. We spent one more night in Cabanaconde and then returned to civilization in time to call home for thanksgiving.  I can smell the pumpkin pie from Peru.   

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Colca Cactus

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