Inca Trails

Shadowing us across the river, a ridge of dark, gnarled peaks soared high above a base of steep scree slopes. Herds of alpacas and llamas grazed on pastures beside the river. Two aggressive sheep dogs barked at us angrily as we approached, while their owner sat languidly under the shade of a large rock outcrop. I hurled stones towards the dogs as they threatened to charge, but my throwing was so far off-target they must have thought I was playing a game of fetch with them.

Snarling wild and sometimes rabid dogs can be a problem in Bolivia. A La Paz climbing guide had advised throwing whatever we had – including every item of our belongings – at such dogs to try to keep them away. “Throw whatever you can lay your hands on, and keep on throwing,” he had advised. “If necessary, run and keep on running,” the advice continued. I hoped that we would never be reduced to that.

The path remained arid and monotonous but our target – the beautiful glaciated summits of Presidente and Flor – called us forward without complaint. Their white snow was tinged with glacial blue, with several sections torn apart by fields of crevasses.

We climbed slowly towards the Katantika Pass, crossing over which we would leave the jagged summits of the Cordillera Apolobamba and head west towards Peru over high, rolling pampas. We stopped for a much-needed lunch on a sunny pasture overlooked by plunging glaciers. Not a single cloud disturbed the intensely blue sky. Across the valley, a lone herder’s hut and stone corral on Presidente’s lower slopes were the only signs of human activity. In such surroundings, even our simple lunch of cheese and local bread made from wheat and maize tasted delicious.

We inched breathlessly upwards towards increasingly awe-inspiring views of glaciers, crevasses and snowy peaks. The view back down the valley was also becoming grander and grander as we rose high above the dark scree slopes and meandering river into the icy world of the high Andes.

As we finally neared the rounded pass, I literally stumbled across a section of unmistakable paved Inca road, some three metres wide, running west through the bofedales towards the ancient imperial capital of Cuzco.

We were still marvelling at the unexpected remnant of Inca road when a condor flew across our view to a rocky perch high above the pass. This was not nearly as close as yesterday’s encounter on the descent towards Pelechuco, but was another wondrous condor sighting over a high pass, and we had neither seen any Suerte Maria birds today, nor lain any stones on cairns.

The Katantika Pass itself is marked by several turquoise lakes and some of the most striking scenery in the Andes. The glaciers and crevasses of Presidente and Flor glinted in the afternoon sun, plunging steeply towards the valley far below, and seemingly rimming a tranquil, trout-filled lake bordered by Inca paving. And a condor perched somewhere not far above my head. A stone cross marks the most sacred point of the pass, the landscape beyond mellowing markedly from jagged, icy summits to rolling undulations. This was Andean grandeur at its most sublime.

Out of habit, I laid a stone at the cross, more in gratitude for this staggering vista than to ask for any more good fortune. After all, what more could go right?