First and foremost,… Hello, Bapa. I’m not sure anyone does nor should read these anymore as we very well know where in the world am I. But for the sake of posterity and the boredom of my favorite old man I’ve decided to grace you, again, dear Internet with some ramblings and anecdotes about a not-so-recent trip. Picture it, will you? July 2022 in Sunny Peru. Yes, yes, I know I had great ambition for the past years to post monthly and didn’t do that. Nuts. Life, just as they warned us, does in fact get busy. I don’t feel the need to apologize or explain myself as we are all theoretically adults here.  

Anywho! July 2022 I ventured the lovely country of Peru with my most spontaneous and adventurous friend, Lindsey. But let’s back up even further… Sitting down for Sushi and a catch up in November 2021, locking eyes over a Rock N’ Roll….roll, a fresh heart break, and severe burn out from school/work she said “Do you want to hike the Cordillera Huayhuash trail with me?” Now with that kind of eye contact and me, knowing exactly 0 about what, why, or where that was, I said “obviously” with a mouth full (like a lady). Lindsey proceeds to show me pictures of the glorious range and her Excell spread sheet of pre-made tours, hotels, car etc. Me? I was just happy to be a part of it. I didn’t think much of it again after that. Lindsey and I have a propensity to make grandiose plans and then Lindsey follows through, and I can be found at home staring blankly at some project or another willing motivation to arrive (spoiler alert? It doesn’t, and I’m still learning to be disciplined enough to make things count). At any rate, I had quite forgotten about it until a text popped up asking if I was ready to buy tickets and ask for time off work? I thought, much like Bilbo at his 111th birthday, after all why shouldn’t I? I was getting ready to graduate (not just the ceremony which DAMN has it really been over a year since I posted?!), I had been working basically 60 hours a week to get my internship done PLUS my work PLUS getting ready to change roles into a clinical one… why shouldn’t I reward myself with a nice, juicy, plane ticket and do some venturing? I said yes without even talking to my boss first.  

I’d like to say I’ll make this short but honestly, we all know me by now and the buildup to the trip feels… like a good detail. Lindsey and I went to hike in the Columbia Gorge to see how my hiking legs were. As per previous mention, I’d been working quite a bit and not like Fergalicious up in the gym working on my fitness, rather, very sedentary furiously emailing, typing, calling, and safety planning with various people. I won’t bore you will ALL the details of that hike as I made it to the top. I’m not sure exactly what sort of condition I was in but the new boots I was breaking in for dear old Peru felt good, my lungs didn’t ~exactly give out, and the view from the top was (as it always is) worth it. Come to find out later, Lindsey was worried I wouldn’t make it in the Peruvian trail because unlike me, she’d done research. I was along for the ride and was just happy to be involved. When she fessed up to her ulterior motives, I immediately became concerned about the bit I chewed off, agreeing to go. Real nail biter, I know.  

We will just jump forward to getting to Peru as that is why we are here. We landed after a 9-hour flight and got on a 10-hour bus to the quaint Northern Mountain town where we got to our hostel and immediately, ya girl crashed. Turns out being 30+, a 19-hour travel day to 7k+ altitude don’t really mix. At any rate we had one full day to dick around the town to acclimate to the extremely thin air. On the second day we went on a “trial” hike to the Blue Lagoon which was HOLY WOW so beautiful. Pictured below are the IG worthy shots that Lindsey insisted on taking and also… reality of what my mood was. I cannot express the splendor, glory, beauty of these places. Words sincerely fall short and not just because I was likely out of breath. I had never really don’t much hiking in altitude outside of Mt. Fuji or Volcan in Panama. It is an interesting sensation to be gasping for air that doesn’t seem to fill the lungs. As an asthmatic I know a little about not being able to breathe, so I mostly felt that I was just having asthma issues. That hike took every ounce of reserve will power that I had not only to get to the top, but to not strangle the 20-something young girl who hiked it IN SHORTS AND SANDALS, when I legit had to use trekking poles. After Blue lagoon we had one more prep day and then we were off. Packed up and underprepared I put my little bags in a car of several tour guides who barely spoke English. It was, I’ll say, an exciting time for me to show off my “Avanzado Bajo” level of Spanish which wildly impressed Lindsey. It was humbling to remember that different people have different skills and that while Lindsey can do an Iron Man race (on a whim), hike with not breaking a sweat, and snowboard like a manic… I could converse with the tour guide in another language and get to know him in a way that, I assume, most of his patrons did not get the honor to.  

So we are on our way, right, up these winding and quite frankly terrifying roads. Lindsey was sleeping like a damn baby while I was gripping the door and my seat belt wondering about body extradition laws and if that was covered by minimal travelers’ insurance. Eventually we reached a toll booth, a small suspect town where we stopped and had soup for breakfast, another toll booth, then a shack that appeared to slant on the side of the mountain next to a brood of donkeys (the collective noun is technically herd but… brood sounds way more picturesque). We had made it to the beginning, and I won’t lie, the second I stretched my legs out of the car I felt this impending sense of dread and what’s worse, body chills. I pushed down the body chill sensation as nerves and shook out my legs ready to move. The dread started as a warm sensation in my chest and as our guide explained to me in Spanish the route of the first day, the warm spreading sensation started to shrink to a smaller area feeling like a tight ball right around my torso. I took a deep breath of thin air and told myself what I always do in these situations “Ganbate” (you can do it). Moving my lead legs filled with the intate knowledge that my brain was not ready to accept, was easier than expected. Easier but, boy, I tell ya, I have not been so reminded of my weak lungs, out of shape body, and generally surprising will power so much as I was when I climbed that first peak. We made it to the top and it was “todo bajo” from there. The trail was long but after the first CLIFF it was very casual. We ate lunch at the bottom of the hill and strolled the rest of the day to the real gem-the first camp spot. The path was unlike anything I expected or have ever seen. Just miles and miles of quiet and looming mountain-scapes. I didn’t tell Lindsey this but I felt very much like Frodo and Sam (I think I’ve made a new record of Lord of the Rings references!). I spent my time as I usually do while I hike; making up stories in my head. I could imagine having to hike this as the first person to make the trial, or even in an apocalypse. I continued to keep my head down focusing on the task at hand (head stories and making it alive), but did remind myself to look up every once in a good while. Eventually after miles of beautiful fields betwixt mountains we reached our camp spot. This field facing enormous mountains is why people come. Lindsey, of course, continued to a secret glacial lake while I sat in the tent that was pre-popped up for us wondering why on God’s green earth people did this without guides. Sure, sure we are spoiled and had all our meals cooked for us, our backpacks carried, and camp set up but LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING, if that is spoiled then I need to re-evaluate my idea of a bougie vacation. I sat more still than I had in years in the quiet, the cold, and the beauty. Was it fatigue, wonder, or the very quickly dropping temperature as the sun set or was, I getting body chills again? (enter ominous music here) We ate dinner in what looked like a mini version of a circus pop up tent with a solar powered light that barely lit everything up. It was probably the most delicious food I’ve ever not-eaten anything of. I was, in my mind, too tired or too excited to eat and could not wait to get to bed. It’s just the altitude, right? We left pop-up tent and HOLY DARK. I’ve been camping before, and I’ve been around with no lights but I don’t think I’ve ever ran into a wall just pitch black without any hint if you were walking on solid ground or about to fall off a cliff. You could FEEL the darkness there, creeping around you like some sci-fi movie before a creature attacked you. I stood blinking and adjusting to the dark and Lindsey (classically prepared) led me back to the tent with her head lamp. We very quickly realized how cold we were and shakingly go ready for bed. A little girl talk, a few giggles, then straight snoring from Lindsey. I, on the other hand, started to experience something I’d only really read about in my schoolbooks, Oh my my, was this panic? Eventually I fell asleep and dreamed of sugar plums, I’m sure. I wish I could say I remember what woke me up or what the morning was like but to be quite honest, I don’t remember. I do remember our guide telling us it was the easiest day with only one small mountain to climb and after that it was either flat or downhill. He gave us (well by that I mean he gave me a run down in Spanish which I tried to translate as he talked) a day by day play and how difficult each day was. I was, as previously mentioned, not all there and don’t remember much. The third day was supposed to be one of the most challenging but worthwhile days to some Instagram spot that Lindsey chose the trip from (fun fact). We trudged on and I don’t know if I can accurately describe the actual mud I felt I was walking through. Lindsey, bless her heart, always stays close or waits if she gets too far ahead and I knew deep down she was either worried or antsy to keep moving. I had my head down, moving so slowly. The sun was beating down and suddenly the deep bone cold we felt in the night was missed as the temperature climbed. Lindsey kept covered like a smart hiker and I, sweating and uncomfortable, opted for a tank top and prayers. I have never walked through jello physically, but I assume it would be about how my legs felt. I wasn’t sore, per say, despite the days and days of strenuous hikes, but I was not well. It was sitting on the top of a hill, alone, watching as our guide and Lindsey half ran down a grassy hill that I let out a soft… I won’t call it a sob, but it was certainly not a sigh of contentment or relief. My head felt like lead was coursing through it, my body felt heavy, my lungs were not sure what to do but were working overtime, I could hear my heartbeat not only in my ears but see it in my eyes, and the cherry was my forefinger had what appeared to be boils on it. I was straight up not having a good time in one of the most gorgeous places on this earth.  

We finally arrived at the campsite and it was just splendid. There was a glacial lake and nothing but views. Our guide showed us the treacherous path for the next day and we spent the rest of the day taking photos, reading, sleeping, and starting to feel what I was pushing down: sick. Now mind you, it wasn’t altitude sickness as I read all about that. I had taken my inhaler every 4 hours as prescribed and found myself waiting and waiting to take it. I felt like I had a cold and the thin cold air was probably the worst place for me to be. I hesitantly told Lindsey how I was feeling, fearing her annoyance and anger (which BTW she’d literally never been towards me). Lindsey took it like a champ asking me my symptoms, helping me get more water, and teling me to rest. We talked at length about how it would go and she told me to talk to the guide and we would go from there. I did tell the guide who mistook my spanish (or willpower) by telling me I can walk as slowly as I want on the next day, “No te preocupes, Kallie, tranquila” (don’t worry, Kallie, just relax). I tried to explain again at dinner that I was not feeling myself and again I was told to “tranquila”. That night passed much the same as the previous one- a delightful dinner that I literally couldn’t stomach, a dark and cold night, and TA-DA: full panic. Lindsey woke up to me up coughing and basically crying saying I couldn’t do it. It killed me to say it. I’ve never EVER given up on one of our hikes no matter how hard they’ve been (and let me tell you I’ve been on some intense trips with this woman). I knew in my heart that if I tried to go up that mountain tomorrow my lungs would give out and I’d learn what it was like to wait for LifeFlight in the Peruvian Andes. Lindsey told me not to worry that we’d both go home. It took me over an hour to convince her that she should not come with me, she couldn’t after waiting YEARS to do this, be held back by some silly friend who caught a silly cold or some such thing. She said she’d sleep on it eventually and argued with me again in the morning. We landed on her continuing the trip and went to tell the guide the plan. He looked disappointed to lose his translator but helped make arrangments for me to hike out (and apparently all down) to a town “close by” to catch a ride. I was sent with the pack horses and our pack horse guide “el senor” as he was called and went on. The relief I felt as I knew I was going to town was overshadowed by the same jello I felt walking the day before. I put my head down and just walked. I told myself every step that I’d be OK, I was going to town, I’d go to a doctor, I’d be OK, please don’t panic again. The trip was actually all downhill but several more miles than advertised and apparently I was about 2 hours too late to have caught a regular bus. After talking to several people with El Senor, we found a very full white van with a young kid who sekpically looked at me for a very long time while listening. Eventually El Senor told me, with a pained look on his face, the man would take me for (whatever the Peruvian rate was I don’t remember….) what worked out to be $200. I did not have that kind of cash with me but told him if he took me to an ATM I could get it. He agreed, took my bag and strapped it to the top of the van, and let me sit up front. I got many glares from the passengers in the back but buckeld up for what I assumed was about a ~2 hour drive back. 

At this point you’re thinking… good, we are done right? WRONG. I widly misunderstood the drive back and it was over 7 hours. Eventually you’d think I get out a book, put in headphones, take a nap, or ask this strange man I got into a van full of people with how long the trip would be. Nope. I stared ahead looking at the beautiful mountains wishing, hoping, praying, that this would be the last half hour…. I won’t bore you with all the details as they are silly and mostly involve me continuing to sit up right, cough every now and then (I put a mask on, chill out) and just stare. They weren’t going to the town I was (hence the skeptical stare early) but took me to a crossroads near and got me into a taxi. The Taxi was driven by a very young man who listened to too loud music and drove like an actual maniac. I was so tired that I couldn’t even care. I was several hours past what the guide told me it would take to get home and I knew Lindsey would be waiting next to her Garmen for an update. Blah blah taxi ride continues, and he tried to shoo me out 3+ miles from the Hostel I was planning to head to. The pure look of panic on my face must have warmed the heart of this young man who told me he’d take me. We ended up picking up what I assumed was his girlfriend and child on the way. The kid was friendly to me and the girlfriend (who I assume didn’t know I spoke Spanish) was very much not happy to have me in the car (she basically accused him of flirting/cheating with me, it was a real treat). The ride was mercifully short but the hill up to the hostel was painfully large. I made it eventually and was very lucky to be able to request the amount of time to sleep there until Lindsey got back.  

I got into the room and immediately cried which caused my breathing to become worse (remember this town is where to get acclimated so it’s still higher elevation). Shaking hands, runny nose, and barely breathing I stripped off the clothes from the day and called my best friend and personal nurse, Brooke, to help me figure out wtf just happened. Brooke told me the boils on my fingers were actually burns (I still have a slight scar from that) as I didn’t put sunscreen on my hands, that I probably had some lung infection, and I needed to get to a hospital. I told her I would despite being barely able to walk, having no food outside of some Dove chocolate, and no knowledge of how to even get to a doctor. That night I slept harder and longer than I had in a long time. I woke up feeling worse off than the mountains and knew I needed to actually see a doctor. The details, again, are silly but I got there by the grace of some province and again, thanked my every lucky stars that I spoke the language. I was convinced I had bronchitis and told the young doctor so who laughed at me and told me to take a COVID test. Sure, says I, if that is what it takes, but I know myself and it’s bronchitis But, I guess he got his medical degree for a reason. I had COVID. ARE YOU FRIGGIN KIDDING ME?! Years. I had gone for years and on a plane SEVERAL times and I got COVID IN THE ANDES?! I was livid but too tired to care. I got a few prescriptions to help with the coughing and the phlegm but basically, he told me to rest up, buttercup. I spent the next few days watching Netflix on my phone, sleeping, and ruing the fact that my post-grad trip was just me lounging in a shitty hostel. I looked up other hotels but that required me to go to Lima and at this point it was only a day or two until Lindsey got back. So, I stayed put. 

What is funny is that in my life I know I’ve done a lot… I have a shit memory, though. For some unknown reason I can remember the most unimportant details of that little town: the lay out of it, the streets to avoid trying to cross, how far the grocery store was, which aisle the water was in at the grocery store, the city center, the café with the fasted internet and best coffee, the on pizza place that was actually decent, and where the best trinket stores were. I can remember all that but not the name of the town in all honesty. I thought about asking Lindsey, but this is more me, you know? 

I rested up and by the time Lindsey got back I was feeling like I did the first day of the hike- not great but also was able to walk without wanting death to release me. We traveled back down to Lima and stayed a few days. I was fortunate enough to meet up with an old Peace Corps friend who showed us some great spots to eat, helped us around, and overall showed us a beautiful time (thanks, Morgan!). Fun fact we did go surfing in Lima… It was the one thing I really wanted to do but didn’t realize how fatigued I’d be after COVID. I got up on about two waves before my arms were like HELL NO WE WON’T GO anymore. We ate good food, walked around the beautiful city, and ate civiche (yes, I’m surprised at me, too). We also went to the desert oasis and rode around on sand dune buggies! We did not sand surf as you had to do it on your stomach and a face full of sand after the week I’d had did not sound like the vibe. The pictures tho? Chef’s kiss.  

So that is Peru. In a very short nutshell but long post. One of the best worst trips I’d been on. To this day I’m so disappointed that I didn’t get past the first two days of the 8-day trek, but I’m grateful for wifi and Bridgerton, for Lindsey, for speaking Spanish, and even for hostels. It should have been 8 days hiking, it should have been lifechanging, it should have been so many things that it wasn’t, and yet, it was so many things I never expected. I was stronger and more capable than I thought, I spoke way more Spanish than I realized, I was able to navigate getting back to town by myself, I went to a doctor in another country, and I even though I didn’t finish… I saw some of the most beautiful sights in Northern Peru. Yes, Bapa, I know I owe you more trip writings, but I hope the frantic nature of this one will tide you over for a while. Ciao!

Ps I’m too lazy to post photos and caption them one by one so use your imagination. They go basically in order of the Blue Lagoon then the Andes… you can see the pained smile on the day I realized that I was sick. Ok cool, bye!