Straight from The Horse’s Mouth

Business has been relaxed at THM lately. Many of our regulars are off vacationing. Some go on holiday to relax and recharge. Others are inspired by meeting new people. Our style is adventure. Since Glenn and I will not be traveling this year I would like to share one of our best trips. Hiking the Inca Trail.

The Inca Trail in Peru is by far the most famous trek in South America and is rated by many to be in the top 5 treks in the world. In just 26 miles it manages to combine beautiful mountain scenery, lush cloud-forest, subtropical jungle and, of course, a stunning mix of Inca paving stones, ruins and tunnels.

Day two of the four day hike is the most difficult and even though it was arduous it is my favorite memory of the whole trip. At 6:00 AM we peeked out of our tents and found cold, drizzling rain. The first mountain was ahead of us and it is aptly named "Dead Woman's Pass". The 2,000 foot ascent was going to be very difficult as Glenn and I were recovering a combination of food poisoning and altitude sickness. Although we were happy to be there, we were weak, cold, and now wet.

Glenn and Laura on top of Dead Woman’s Pass. During the morning's hike we quickly fell two hours behind the porters, guides, and other trekkers in our group. It's a one-way trail and this section is the last chance to abort the effort. We saw several dejected looking travelers heading back to the comfort of their hotels. I know the thought crossed Glenn's mind.

We climbed the first 1,000 feet. Our heads hurt from the lack of oxygen. Our legs ached from the steep stairs of ancient stone. I lagged behind my husband. He was counting his paces. At first he could get to 100 without a rest, then it went to 50. We were gasping for air and our hearts beat out of our chests. We were sailors, not marathoners. We weren't in the best shape for this type of adventure.

There was another group who had started the day after us. Most had passed us, but there was one young lady with her guide who maintained our pace. When they stopped to rest I stopped as well. The guide brought out his Andean Flute and played. The evocative melodies and rhythms floated cross the valley. I was totally exhausted and brought to tears by the haunting music. It began to rain harder and my face and hands were numb with cold.

I was thinking of our good fortune to be having this grand (yet uncomfortable) experience. I'd seen the Inca Trail and Machu Picchu on television, and never imagined I would have the opportunity to experience it in person. To prepare for the trip we studied the Andean Region and learned of the demise of the Incas and plight of the Quechua Indians. Our guide told us of his sadness and frustration that such a glorious empire was extinguished by the Spaniards. Rain dripped off my poncho and disguised my emotion.

What a contradiction of joy and misery we were! The 50 paces became 25 and then 10. We climbed the steepest and longest three hours to the pass which is 13,779 feet above sea level. We could make only two or three steps at a time. At the highest point of the trail there was a crowd of trekkers braving the wind and rain to cheer on stragglers. We made it to the top. I was overcome with emotion. At once I was absolutely thrilled at the experience, and yet broke into uncontrollable sobs.

I collected myself and our guide took our picture. The stop was brief due to the freezing rain. As we began the descent to the other side of the mountain, we discovered other muscles that had not yet burned in fatigue. We hurried down as quickly as our worn out bodies would let us leaning heavily on our hiking poles. By dark we made camp and found our group relaxing peacefully in their tents. They had been there for hours.

As difficult as that day was, it is my favorite. The feelings were so strong, and the memory is etched deeply in my heart. For me, this is what vacation is all about. What is your vacation style?