Salkantay Trekking to Machu Picchu in the Rainbow Season

We knew our trip through Peru would never be complete without exploring its most famous ruins, but as it turns out, the real satisfaction came from reaching it on our own two feet. We hiked 46 miles in 4 days over glaciated mountain passes and alpine meadows, through cloud forests and jurassic park-like jungle. We crossed rickety bridges over waterfalls, slept in tents and ate fresh caught trucha (trout) from nearby rivers. And on the 5th and final day, we climbed 1,300′ straight up a stone staircase to find Machu Picchu – shrouded in mist – waiting at the top.

This trek was the real deal – the kind of experience that makes you appreciate a pair of dry socks more than any material possession on Earth. The kind that exposes parts of your personality you forget are there until exhaustion forces them to the surface, and makes you realize you can do things you never thought possible – like sleep with earplugs or wear the same pair of mud-caked pants for five days in a row.

Physically we felt great, except for a bad case of frozen pinky fingers and some mildly achy knees on the descent. We weren’t bothered by the altitude (even at 15,000′), the distance or long days. We were VERY well fed, our tents were comfortable and everyone stayed healthy. We had our challenges, of course; almost all of which came from trekking in the rainy season – because everything just seems harder in the rain.

We anticipated being muddy, wet and cold for long periods of time, but what we didn’t expect were the rainbows. Each day, just as I reached my muddy-wet-cold breaking point, the rain would stop and I’d see one – a burst of color radiating through the clouds – reminding me that discomfort is temporary and life can be trusted. We saw so many rainbows on our trek, I think the tourism industry should rename the “rainy season” the “rainbow season.” It has a much better ring to it.

Below, I’ve tried to capture the highlights from each day, along with our favorite photos.

Day 1: Carlos, The Chicas, and Humantay Lagoon

I cannot say enough good things about our personal guide, Carlos. He was everything you’d want in someone responsible for your safety, logistics and entertainment. Despite trekking to Machu Picchu well over 200 times, he maintained endless enthusiasm, energy and focus. His promptness and organization even impressed Charlie.

Carlos picked us up at 5 am in a vintage-style, Little Miss Sunshine van with yellow curtains and carpet seats. I should mention we opted for the budget-friendly tour with high ratings over the fancier ones, and were very satisfied. Waiting inside the van was our 80s music-loving driver, our talented cook, and “the chicas,” two mature 21 year old ladies from Spain who knew about ten words in English combined. It was quickly apparent they had little interest in engaging with two Americans trying to practice their Spanish, choosing instead to keep to themselves. It made for a very quiet and peaceful trek, which no one really seemed to mind.

The rain started the second we got out of the van and met up with our horseman, a spry 80-something year old man who stood no more than 5′ tall and spoke only Quechua, the native Andean language. He led the caravan of horses and donkeys – carrying all of our equipment – to each check point, moving skillfully at twice our speed.

It only took about 30 minutes of trudging straight uphill in mud and pouring rain for me to question what the hell we were doing, but Carlos insisted we were lucky, explaining the rain could be much worse. I decided it was best to believe him and focus instead on the rushing rivers and walls of brilliant green mountainside. Within two hours we reached Humantay Lagoon, a mesmerizing turquoise lake set beneath towering peaks and puffy white clouds. We hiked around for an hour, ignoring our frozen faces, before mud-sliding down the mountain to our campsite. We were greeted with the first of many delicious Peruvian meals – piping hot quinoa soup, grilled fish and piles of steamed vegetables and rice. We retired to our sleeping bags around 8pm, happy to finally be warm and praying for a dry start the next morning.

Day 2: Salkantay Pass

We awoke at 5 am to cups of hot coca tea left outside our tent, and a miraculously clear sky. Seeing the sunrise softened the blow of having to put wet clothes back on, which thankfully dried quickly once we started moving. After a breakfast of fresh fruit, bread and hot quinoa porridge, we began the 3 hour ascent to Salkantay Pass – the highest point – with a stunning view of Salkantay Mountain looming at 20,574′ in the background. Seeing its stark white peak against a cloudless blue sky was for us, the most impressive view of the entire trek, and energized us for the long 11-hour day ahead.

Huffing and puffing, we reached the pass and sat to rest as Carlos regaled us with Incan folklore. He instructed us to make 3 wishes with stones to leave on the mountain, explaining this was how he found his wife and built his house. Then it was back on the trail, now a downhill stream, to begin our descent through beautifully changing ecosystems. We hiked through giant moss covered boulders cloaked in dreamy fog, and watched the rain form thin rivers flowing down from every direction. After several hours, we arrived to a dense cloud forest full of chirping birds and bright-colored orchids, which lifted our soggy spirits a little. We’d been soaking wet and chilled for hours – even Carlos seemed weary. I told Charlie I could imagine the sun breaking through the clouds and warming my skin. Just as he told me I was nuts, the rain stopped and a beaming ray of warmth shone down on us, casting a giant rainbow over the jungle. We all stared in wonder.

Day 3: Jungle Hiking, Santa Teresa and Hot Springs

After another 5 am wake up call with coca tea, we began our hike through a dense tropical forest along a roaring river, crossing so many waterfalls (cataratas) I lost count. It was our first rain-free day, but that meant heat and mosquitos, which are more like tiny invisible devils in South America. I couldn’t see or feel them, but a day or two later my legs erupted in itchy bites, despite wearing long pants and using spray.

Our hike led us to the town of La Playa where we had lunch – quinoa, ceviche-style mushrooms, sautéed beef with vegetables (lomo saltado) and ice-cold chicha morada – a traditional drink made with purple corn, cloves and fruit juices. From there we caught a ride to Santa Teresa, a tiny little mountain town ideal for backpackers, where we’d be spending the night in a hostel. Santa Teresa’s biggest attraction, other than its picturesque setting, is the nearby hot springs – Baños Termales Colcamayo. As if soaking in natural warm pools in the middle of the jungle after hiking for 3 days wasn’t enough, we had the place almost to ourselves (under a rainbow of course). Afterwards we took hot showers, and Charlie and I split a big, cold cerveza in the town square. That evening our group picked up a stray hiker who’d somehow lost her group, so Carlos arranged for her to join us the rest of way. She was from Holland, spoke no Spanish and perfect English. I was instantly glad to have her along.

Day 4: Playing Hookie and Hiking to Agues Caliente

The next morning, Charlie and I seized an opportunity to have a relaxing morning in town, rather than being bused around on a zip-lining tour with the group. We were thrilled with our decision. After leisurely enjoying our coffees and freedom, we met back up with the group and rode to Hidroelectrica, a pitstop of a town beside a river with the first views of Machu Picchu. We had lunch – hearty soups and guacamole – and started the four-hour hike along the tracks to the town of Agues Caliente, the final destination before Machu Picchu. The rain returned and the hike seemed endless to our tired legs, but we finally arrived to Agues Caliente, checked in to our hostel and took hot showers. At dinner, Carlos went over the game plan for the next morning. We could either take a bus or a grueling hike up to Machu Picchu, but either way he wanted us at the entrance gate by the 6am opening time. The Chicas chose the bus with Carlos, we chose to hike along with our Holland friend. Why not, we thought, we’d come this far.

Day 5: Machu Picchu

We got up at 3 am the next morning, which by this point seemed fairly normal, and gathered our gear for the big day. We needed to leave by 4:10 to walk down the road to the entrance gate for the hike, which opened at 5am. Carlos had warned us there would be a long line. We waited until 4:15 for our friend who failed to wake up, but still ended up being first in line. The climb was straight up the mountain in heavy humidity, and we were quickly drenched in sweat. So much for cute Machu Picchu pictures, I thought. Carlos guessed that based on our fitness, we’d complete the climb in about 50 minutes. We did it in 42, but who’s counting.

At the top, we walked through the entrance gate to find Machu Picchu, the ancient ruins we’d traveled so far to see. Only, we couldn’t see them well. The clouds were settled comfortably amongst the ruins with no plans of moving. That was ok, it added a layer of drama to the experience as we walked along the ancient stone walls, around corners and through passageways. Carlos spent two hours with us describing the genius of Inca architecture and the mysteries of their empire before leaving us at our final climb up Huayna Picchu Mountain. The hike was harder and steeper than the one we’d already done that morning, but promised the best views of the ruins. If we hadn’t already bought the extra ticket, I don’t think we would have done the hike due to the cloud coverage, but we decided to close out our journey with one final lung-busting climb. We reached the top after an hour of scrambling up and looked out to see nothing but pure white. We laughed. At least it wasn’t raining.