Sun Gate of Inti Punku Cachiccata

We crossed the river on the old Inca Bridge and walked along a trail at the foot of a steep mountain slope. The trail, they say, is ancient and was used by the Inca to haul their quarried stone.

Just a few minutes into the hike we came across an old wall and structures. The rooms were made of gray rock and bushes grew within. The tops of the walls had collapsed. 

What a beautiful sight! To our right tumbled the Urubamba River, whose waters would eventually reach the Amazon. Humongous mountains towered all around. On the other side of the valley was the elusive Mount Veronica, whose snow-capped peak was now veiled behind a band of constant clouds. At times there were pockets when we could see a flank, or perhaps a quick glimpse of the summit. But in an instant it was veiled again. Mount Veronica towered at 19,334 feet. 

Urubamba River.

Village of Ollantaytambo.

In the beginning, the trail gained elevation slowly. Across the valley to our right we could see the town of Ollantaytambo and the massive ruins of the same name on the hillside. 

Our destination was the Sun Gate of Inti Punku Cachiccata, an Inca ruin near the crest of the mountain. We would be climbing over 4,000 feet to get there, and I prayed dearly that my body would allow me to do it. 

One of many old ruins on the trail to Inti Punku.

Trail to Inti Punku.

Village of Cachiquata in the Sacred Valley of Peru.

After the first resting point, which included a stone hut with shade, the trail took a sharp turn and began to climb even steeper. Here we could get see a shack where someone lived with a dog outside barking. It is mind-boggling to me that someone would live this far up. There were no roads anywhere near here! 

The foliage on these steep hillsides was not lush. From a distance they appeared bare, but walking through it was obvious that there was plenty of growth. Although we were above 10,000 feet, it reminded me much of what could be found in a desert: cactus, yucca-like plants the height of a human, and another plant similar to a manzanita tree. 

Ten minutes later we could hear the sound of flowing water. It was a rivulet shooting down the slope. It ran in a stone canal . . . one that had probably been in use for 800 years or longer. The Inca were masters of controlling water. 

Shaded rest-house along the trail.

The trail took a sharp turn and began to climb even steeper.

Shack located high on the mountain slope.

Here we could hear the sound of flowing water.

The Inca were masters at channeling water.

As we continued, the trail became steeper. We passed a team of Peruvian natives who were trotting down the hill with a group of pack horses. My guess is that they hauled them up for hikers. 

We passed the old quarry site where stones were hewn from the mountain and hauled down to the valley. The whole idea of the quarry being so far away blows my mind. Some of the rocks at Ollantaytambo are so big that they're considered megalithic. And how did they haul them down without pack animals like horses or oxen? 

We also saw a few thimble-shaped stone structures called chullpas. These were burial tombs used by a pre-Inca people. They are scattered around several places in Peru. Originally the corpses were buried in the fetal position along with some of their belongings, but nowadays the chullpas are empty. 

Chullpas.

Looking upward toward to old Inca quarry site.

Stone remains at the quarry site.

Around this point the slope of the trail really gave us a beating. I am no longer young, and health issues have taken a toll. We continued forward, albeit slowly. 

Much to our surprise we found cattle at this high elevation near 11,000 feet. The cows nibbled on grass and basked in the sun as if it were nothing. 

Beyond the cattle we came across another group of Inca houses. With the exception of the roof they were very well preserved. Each had a door and inside the room were several niches along the wall. 

We took a break here⸺on the front lawn of these old homes. And what a view! Mount Veronica rose even more majestically from this altitude, now clearing up from cloud cover. We sat on the fluffy green grass that felt as soft as any bed. We sipped Gatorade and ate a candy bar. 

From here we now had a good, albeit distant view of the sun gate. The stone edifice appeared as a tiny silhouette on the top of the mountain, with a piercing hole on its face.⸺We were getting closer! 

Much of the trail had stone steps built into it, probably ancient in origin.

High-elevation cow.

Old structure along the trail, perhaps homes for the quarry workers.

Jenna takes a break on the "front lawn."

Mount Veronica, elevation 19,334 feet.

Mount Veronica on right and sun gate on the left.

We spent the next half hour completing the final ascent. When we arrived, it was probably the grandest view I've ever seen. Not only did we have a front-row seat to view Mount Veronica, but we could also see the other side of the mountain, further into the Sacred Valley. Our panoramic view gave sight to several other snow-capped peaks, each with their own rugged destination. 

Inti Punku, literally translated from Quechua, means “sun door.” The stone building, which I believe is unfinished, has a set of stairs leading to an opening in a wall. Crossing the threshold through the door brings the visitor into an open-air room, with walls only a few feet high. Beyond this ancient temple stands Mount Veronica, which, from the right angle, can be framed through the door. 

The Sun Gate possibly worked as an astronomical observatory. It lines up perfectly with the constellation Pleiades and is closely associated with Winter Solstice and the Andean New Year. 

Sun Gate of Inti Punku Cachiccata.

Looking south from the sun gate.

It is interesting that Inti Punku served as an inter-dimensional bridge between the world of the living and dead. I have heard other Native American myths of there being a portal to the afterlife and I would love to find the origin of these beliefs. 

My altimeter measured our elevation at 12,820 feet. We were not, however, the tallest peak on our hillside. To our south stood a very rocky peak and I noticed a well-used trail leading to it up the backside. It would be at least a couple miles one-way if we were to go there, but we had neither the time nor energy for that. 

We spent an hour at the sun gate, taking pictures from every angle imaginable. We knew we had to relish every second. 

The Sun Gate of Inti Punku Cachiccata should not be confused with the sun gate at Machu Picchu.

Looking east into the Sacred Valley and Ollantaytambo. Other high peaks in the distance.

Sun Gate as seen from inside.

For our journey down, we chose to go a different route. Instead of the long drawn-out route to the Inca Bridge, we chose one that descended immediately and came out at the village of Cachiqata. 

This path was not as well maintained as the other. In some places it might have been considered a mule trail and there were times we had to make a decision between a right or left fork. 

As expected, there was a lot of zig-zagging. Down below the trail we could see a group of three horses playing around and running through the bushes. A small herd of cattle fed on a grassy slope. 

There weren't as many Inca ruins along this section, although we did find another chullpa. But this route was great for displaying Mount Veronica. By the time the clouds had cleared out, her beautiful white flanks radiated in splendor. 

Lone horse seen on the hike down.

Looking back up the steep slope.

Feeding cattle on the middle slopes.

The rugged slopes of Mount Veronica were very prominent on the hike down.

The view as we began to approach the village of Cachiquata.

At last we arrived on the outskirts of the village. I was a bit nervous here because I didn't know if the trail led through someone's backyard or across their property. But we traversed without incident. 

We walked through someone's farm. We saw no one, but passed pigs, ducks and different-looking cattle. Some of the modest dwellings were protected by stone walls. A couple of school boys strolled in front of us. 

Farm animals in Cachiquata.

Then Jenna noticed the cemetery. There was no sign and no gate, but a couple dozen obvious graves. Since I can't pass up a cemetery, we cautiously stepped inside the grounds and looked around. Most of the burials were marked with wooden crosses or an oval of rocks. Some had flowers growing inside the oval and others were decorated with figurines of Jesus or Mary. Wild grass grew all around and there was no attempt to have it manicured. I didn't know if we were allowed to be there, so we only stayed five minutes, then continued on our way. 

At this point it didn't take long until we were on the valley floor. This was the Sacred Valley, a long corridor that has been sacred to the Inca for hundreds of years. Once again we crossed the Urubamba River and took the only road available back to Ollantaytambo. By the time we arrived in the village the sun had set and darkness had begun to move in over the mountains. ♠

 

Cemetery on outskirts of Cachiquata.

 

Into the Amazon (Day 1)

Just before dawn we sat in the lounge of our hotel when David knocked at the glass door. We shook his hand then walked down the cobble-stoned street with packs over our shoulders, down to the corner where a van waited for us across the street. We climbed in the van and met our new travel-mates, which included two Czechs, a Russian, an Aussie, and our cook, Dora, a native Peruvian. 

As we drove out of the city, I knew we were headed south because now the rising sun glared through the window on my left side. At a panaderia on the edge of town we stopped and Dora bought some bread. I purchased a bottle of water and two bread rolls, one for me and the other for Jenna. 

The paved road weaved back and forth, passing farm houses, the occasional street cart, and cows. The road traveled up a mountain, then down to a valley, across a river, then back up a mountain. There were no straight paths. 

At times the road turned to dirt, either from a mudslide, or construction. 

Mount Sahuasiray stands in the distance at an elevation of 19,088 feet.

While approaching another summit, this one at 11,800 feet, we diverted to a dirt road and pulled over near a collection of ancient structures that reminded me in size and appearance of Anasazi granaries. This was Ninamarca, a pre-Inca cemetery. 

According to our guide, each stone structure (called a chullpa) once contained the mummified body of a person in the fetal position. They may have been of nobility or higher class, using the little stone towers to keep their bodies cool. There were, however, no bodies still entombed. Our guide supposed that they were taken out during the Spanish conquest. Over the years a few human bones have been discovered.

What made the site even more fascinating to me was its location. From its vantage point at the top of a hill, it overlooked a small village on one side, and in the distance to the north stood the snow-capped Mount Sahuasiray, which rises over 19,000 feet. 

Chullpas at Ninamarca, a pre-Inca cemetery.

By now we were getting to know the crew. The conversation was very much international and Pavel, the Russian, didn't have much good to say about Putin. Tony, the Aussie, was very personable and loved to talk. I was surprised to hear his conservative viewpoints. 

At 8 o'clock we stopped at Paucartambo for breakfast. Paucartambo is a colonial village with a stone bridge over the river. Many of the old buildings are two stories high with painted blue doors. We stopped along the main road which was across the street from the market. 

The smell of simmering pork filled the air as we walked inside. Four legs and a pig's head simmered inside a cauldron —A lady sold biscuits of bread and there was a bar where locals ate bowls of stew. Upstairs in one room they sliced raw meat and in another they sold fresh fruit.

In front of the market ladies sold food from a cart. We each bought a small avocado sandwich, a slice of sweet bread, and for myself, a warm quinoa beverage with a hint of apple flavor. They poured it into a bag and gave me a straw. 

The village of Paucartambo.

Lady selling food and drink from a cart in Paucartambo.

After leaving Paucartambo, we left the pavement for good. There was no simple pathway this entire ride. Always on the edge of a mountain—an upward slope on one side and a drop-off on the other. 

The road gradually climbed in elevation and I watched the other side of the valley through the window. An unknown river swiftly flowed down the center, and on the other side was a patchwork of farms. I have noticed that here in the Andes they truly know how to efficiently use as much land as possible.

During this section we came across construction, which halted momentum for twenty minutes. During that time a water truck backed into the car in front of us breaking a headlight. We thought we'd never get past them after they started bickering, but luckily they moved aside and we were finally able to carry on our journey. 

Farmland on the hillside and river running below (as seen through the window).

Construction on road that runs to the Amazon.

We continued to wend higher and higher until finally we came out on a mountain pass that was now barren of trees. We traveled over the pass and toward another steep drop-off. I noticed wisps of clouds moving in, some of them below us. Soon, we were enveloped by clouds on all sides. 

Aptly named, this was the beginning of the cloud forest. At 11,151 feet, it would be our last high elevation point. From here it would be a long drive down. 

Beginning of the cloud forest.

Making up for lost time, our driver, Gabriel, sped down the mountain as fast as possible without sliding off the edge. To make matters more nerve-racking for myself as I sat next to the window was that clouds still covered everything. Not only could we barely see in front of us, but the abyss at our left was exactly that—an abyss. We couldn't see the bottom. And to make matters worse, I learned that Gabriel was only 19 years old! 

The drive down lasted forever! This was the part of our journey where we truly dropped into the Amazon. Clouds eventually moved out and vegetation became thick and tangled. Around every hairpin turn was another waterfall on the edge of the road. We passed dozens of them. 

One of many waterfalls off the side of the road.

Most of our journey was along roads like this one, perched next to a cliff.

From time to time we would get out and walk down the road looking for colorful birds. David, our guide, was the best at finding them. Some birds were black and camouflaged well, but the red macaw stood out markedly through the spotting scope whenever we looked. 

During one of our walks on the road the van continued to a further location so Dora would have time to prepare lunch. By the time we arrived she was serving up plates of chaufa at a picnic table on the side of the road. Chaufa is a rice and chicken dish of Chinese influence, but native to Peru. We poured glasses of Coke and enjoyed conversation. 

We learned the names of our Czech friends, Jan and Magdalena. They were in their early thirties and just got engaged while on the Salcantay trek here in Peru. She is a practicing Catholic, but he agnostic. 

Chaufa, a Peruvian dish with Chinese influence.

There were a hundred different things to see on the drive down, but we couldn't stop for all of them. Some waterfalls were better than others and I wish we could have stopped at more. Far below raged a torrential river, but you could barely see it through the trees. Next to the road was a steep ledge that would probably swallow you up if you got too close. It was impossible to know where terra firma ended with all the foliage. 

As we got further down, the road became consistently muddy. Although this was the dry season, it still rained quite frequently in the Amazon. 

And we came to trust Gabriel's driving. Apparently he has been driving big trucks since he was fifteen years old. He is a very good driver. I couldn't do it. Several times he had to stop in the middle of the road and backup for oncoming traffic. He knew the vehicle and knew what felt right. 

We drove through several tunnels. Gabriel slowed to a crawl when passing through because each tunnel was bumpy and filled with standing water and mud. 

A breathtaking view of the mountainside as we drop into the Amazon.

Another waterfall.

Walking down the road looking for birds and monkeys.

A butterfly in the middle of the road.

Our highlight of the day came when we stopped the vehicle to look for monkeys. At first we were out of luck. David whistled for them, but nothing came. 

We were on the verge of giving up when Jan spotted one jumping through the trees. He became excited like a little kid! 

It was a family of them. They are known as brown capuchin monkeys. 

First there was one, then two, then a small group. They climbed on the branches, moving from tree to tree to get a closer look at us. Their hands appeared like black leather gloves and they used them to grasp the bamboo branches as they walked on all fours. When we threw them a banana they stood on hind feet and used their black leather hands to catch. They were pretty good at catch. They ate the banana much like a human, then tossed the peel away when they were done. 

Brown capuchins are very intelligent. They have a relatively large brain for their body size and are good at problem solving. They feed largely on fruit and insects. 

Brown capuchin monkey.

Two brown capuchin monkeys.

David, our guide, was an expert in spotting and calling in wildlife.

It was getting late and we had to go in haste if we were going to make it by dark. We were now finally making it to the lower parts of the Amazon, an elevation near 1,730 feet. We had dropped nearly 10,000 feet! 

Once we leveled out we began seeing shacks and ramshackle brick houses. This was a village and I didn't know its name. Women walked on the street, kids played ball. All the roads remained dirt. 

It was interesting that here the vista opened up and we could once again see into the distance. This was due to villagers removing trees for practical purposes. 

Kids play soccer in a remote village in the Amazon.

Shortly after that village, we came to another. I knew the name of this one—Pillcopata. We didn't stop, but I looked at it through the window. It seemed dirty and it amazed me how villages like these could exist so far away from civilization. By now it had been eleven hours since we left our hotel—most of it on a dirt road. This was extremely remote. 

After leaving the village we crossed a river on a bridge and turned onto a side road which led to our lodge. It was now sunset and the fronds of the jungle were turning into silhouette. 

Amazonian village of Pillcopata.

The old walking bridge still spans the river.

I am sitting in our room as I write this. There are two twin beds, two nightstands, and a chair. The walls are paper thin (I can hear the Russian snoring in the next room). Outside is the music of cicadas and frogs. 

We have one sole light to illuminate our room and it is quite dim. We have an outlet which seems to work. But no internet. 

There are detached bathrooms and showers, which are just a thirty second walk from our room. Jenna found a frog on the bathroom wall. 

There is a communal eating area. Dora and another lady made our dinner. 

This is a surreal feeling. I've always wanted to spend the night in a jungle and here I am. Far away from everything and very disconnected. Either frightening or blissful, depending on how you see it.

 

Our lodge (with bathrooms and showers on right side).