Huayhuash Trek, Day 1

Location:
Peru

backpacking, Huayhuash, Andes

By David Fonken

“This day was long, way, way too long,” I grumbled to myself as I began to trudge my way in the twilight up the steep, dusty trail leading from Llamac, Peru into the Huayhuash mountain range.

My trip to Llamac began much earlier in the day at 4:30 a.m. in the town of Huaraz. It had proven to be far from uneventful, even by Peruvian standards. The first bus driver had been arrested at a military checkpoint for not having a proper license. The second got the bus stuck in thick mud. Then, the third was drunk and crashed into a ditch. Following the bus drivers extravaganza, I spent eight hours in a decrepit seven-seater Dodge minivan with at least fifteen other people, their belongings, two sheep, a goat and quite a few chickens in order to get to the starting point of my trek.

Finally, in the evening, I made my way out of Llamac though a minefield of cow-pies. I felt more than a little lightheaded and I began to wonder what I was doing there. At least, I should have stayed in the village and rested. Dragging my feet through the red, barren earth, passing false summit after false summit, my dismay with the situation grew. Then, at last, I crested the pass. The sinking feeling and the exhaustion immediately disappeared.

I was stunned by the three towering faces looming above me. They appeared surreal and ghostly in the intense pink-orange glow of the setting sun. I recognized their faces immediately from the pictures I had studied; massive Rondoy was on the left, the razor-edged twin peaks of Jerishinka were in the center, and, the near-perfect pyramid of Yerupajá dominated the scene to the right. Had I any breath left to take, this sight would have taken it away. These mountains were not simply beautiful and peaceful like those I had was accustomed to; they were ominous and terrifying. Small, regular rockfalls peeled off the face of Yerupajá and dropped thousands of feet to the glacier’s surface below. In the strange light of the setting sun, the clouds were surreal, menacingly creeping over the mountain ridges and dissolving again. I studied the landscape, the uplifted peaks, the twisted and convoluted strata of the barren foothills, the perfectly u-shaped valleys where the inhabitants of the area earn their living.

As I became lost in thought, my attention was quickly averted to Jerishinka when a booming sound signaled the start of a large avalanche. My eyes followed the snowfall down from the heavily corniced ridge to the near-vertical face as it knocked several large boulders loose from their precarious resting places. A final crash and the snow dissipated peacefully onto the surface of the glacier below. The sound faded. The edge of the sun slipped over the horizon. A bitter wind sliced through my jacket, snapping me from my mesmerized state. I needed to set up camp. Hurriedly, I performed the usual tasks and dove into my down sleeping bag as the frost began to crust over my tent. I slept restlessly, anxiously awaiting my next three weeks alone in these mountains.

Further Information

Travel tips: I hear it is much more touristy than I went in 2004, so keep that in mind. Also, its not incredibly safe without a guide. I didn't take one in order to have solitude and flexibility, but people have been robbed and killed in the area when alone.

Must see/do at this place: Hike up some of the valleys in the interior of the circuit, if you have the proper experience and/ or guide

You should avoid here: Don't leave any garbage behind.