Week 5: Trekking Across Perú

Monday:

Standing on the bridge, I notice a nice sombrero in the river. The arrival of the bus interrupts my contemplation of fetching it.

All this election crap is still going on. In Cusco, the ultimate political statement seems to be drawing an "X" on something related to your opponent.

Oh yeah, she went there

You tell 'em

Monday night. So I’m sitting with Mama Empe at the table eating dinner. She’s mentioning something about fireworks and going to see them. I’m kind of getting the gist of the conversation, but I imagine we’ll have to walk to the Avenida to see the action. Shortly thereafter, we hear two loud explosions. Running out of the house and exiting the patio, I’m surprised to see a large frame spewing sparks all over the road, sidewalk, grass, trees, and buildings. It looks like a two-story bamboo frame, and it’s hard to believe that it is so jam-packed with pyrotechnics. Three guys are in charge, lighting different wheels that produce stunning light and images. Meanwhile they’re getting showered in sparks without seeming to care much. I’m amazed at how informally this frame is placed in the street. It seems like a lot can go wrong. But everyone is relaxed. Actually, there are a bunch of people sitting around in chairs in the street. They’re very quiet, hardly acknowledging the scene that is causing me great pleasure. Some are chatting, some are pouring out a sip of their cerveza for pachamama. A live marching-style band is getting carried away. After all fuses have been lit on the explosive structure, one of the dudes carries some big ass mortars to a launch site that is supported by a hefty bucket. Three shots later, and Mama Empe announces that it’s over. But it looks like they are about to light a shrine to a loved Saint. Who’ll ever know?

Just another day in the neighborhood

Finale

Tuesday:

Tuesday morning: like it never happened. No trash, no burns, no evidence, no nuthin.

On the bus to school, kids bounced around like pingpong balls. When they have to stand, they are really at the mercy of the bus movements cause all the handholds are too high for them.

In the afternoon, I went on a field trip to el Museo Qolqampata. It was a nice place. Normally we are four in this class, but two were sick. More info on natural history, Incans, archeology. I really enjoyed it; most of it was outdoors. 

Bridging the Cultural Gap

That night, I began a dialogue with a local birder who I found on eBird. I inquired about his guide services, and we discussed a full day to the Huacarpay area. Channelling my inner Kenn Kaufman, I proposed Wednesday (I only have one class). We discussed the plan and the rates and went about our preparations.

After walking Sophia home, I ran by the ATM to withdraw money for the following day. Insufficient funds? That's a worry. I ended up going to bed really late after getting everything (except my money) together.

Wednesday

Four a.m. and time to rise. Sometimes I just don't understand how my mind convinces my body to do these sorts of things. But I had to get up early to head back into town to withdraw money. With all my gear on me (albeit hidden in my backpack), I hailed a cab to the nearest ATM. 

Funds in hand, I was quite early for my 5:20 rendezvous at el cuarto paradero. So I just decided to walk to it from town. I hoped for a flyover Nighthawk as I ambled down the sidewalk. But no luck. Just a few curious couples strolling in the in-between hours.

At the bus stop I waited. Finally a bus paused, and a man leaned out and called my name. Nestor, a local with a good hold on Peruvian avifauna and nature. As we spoke about my experiences in Cusco so far and the whereabouts of certain species of interest, I was reminded of how nice it was to relate with a person with a similar worldview.

And I needed some guidance from an expert. Books are only so interactive.

Eventually we arrived at our stop. Nestor grabbed a quick roadside breakfast and off we went. Crossing farm fields and following railroad tracks, he sized up my experience and knowledge. Boy am I glad that I solicited his services; I had contemplated doing this myself.

My first lifer came quick when we encountered a calling Streak-fronted Thornbird in the scrub surrounding a hacienda. It's nondescript looks mirrored the dry vegetation that surrounded us. As we pressed on, we wound through pre-Incan ruins that weren't anybody's priority to explore. 

A striking Variable Hawk took off from its ground level perch as Mourning Sierra-Finches produced a curious racket. Onwards, we scaled a colina to get overhead views of a small laguna. Several more lifers rapidly ensued. 

Making our way down to water level, we were afforded better looks at our subjects, including this sharp specialty.

Band-tailed Sierra-Finch

Walking along the dike supporting the marsh, wetland life abounded. Plumbeous Rails and Wren-like Rushbirds tried their best to draw my attention from the flashy Many-colored Rush Tyrant.

Back to the railroad: our own birding highway. We made our way across the busy road to check out the frequented Laguna de Huacarpay. Familiar North American migrants mingled with species new to me.

Nestor Presiding

If I were to steal a sign in Perú

Winding our way around the expansive wetland flat, we listened intently for new species or a carro.

Eventually our ride did come, and we hopped on to head to Lucre. At a certain point, the bus would go no further, and we made our way up the valley on foot. 

Country life in Perú is very distinct. The folks that we interacted with were Quechua speakers, and their attitudes were positive. Cusco's urban nature has a big effect on hospitality and friendliness. It was refreshing to re-enter this small community feel where amiability abounded and suspicion/concern was harder to detect.

Boy we walked all over the place. Following the river, we added species left and right. Black-backed Grosbeaks and Golden-billed Saltators complimented the cool flowing waters and riparian vegetation. 

Follow the leader [expert]

At one point, we were treated to prolonged looks at an impressive endemic: the Bearded Mountaineer.

Still we climbed the valley. We scoured the swift waters for the White-capped Dipper and attempted our best imitations at Peruvian Pygmy-Owl at every Eucalyptus grove.

Entering one grove, I slammed my hand into a cactus. But there was no time to extract the spines; Nestor has spotted something good.

Great Horned Owl

A familiar species to me, but very cool to see in a different situation.

Good spot Nestor. Alright, continuing on. All the while we're winding through people's yards, gardens, pens, etc.

Bird-driven

As we re-intersect with the road, something grabs my attention. Nestor!!! What is this thing!?

Chestnut-breasted Mountain-Finch

He excitedly responds with great news: another endemic!

We continue on alongside numerous trout farms/restaurants. All the while, Andean Swifts chatter eagerly above, their small yet agile bodies evading most binocular looks.

After a bit, we cross the river and head back to the start. A stop for lunch at a trout restaurant provides a lot of food and an opportunity for review.

We cover a lot of ground on foot heading back to Lucre. Eventually, we hail a cab to speed up the process.

We get dropped off and meander through more fields as White-collared Swifts zoom by like Blue Angels.

At another vantage of Huacarpay, we add a few species, including the Yellow-shouldered Blackbird and some North American Swallows.

Evening matures as we skirt past the ruins of Piquillacta and wind our way around the Laguna. At one overlook, we are spoiled by a number of Many-colored Rush Tyrants. 

True Beauty

Such Fortune

Nearby, an agitated Andean Lapwing let a grounded Mountain Caracara have it. 

Now the evening is really setting in, and we're headed for civilization. Scores of Eared Doves circle overhead. We pass wild Guinea Pigs at the water's edge.

Cui

A group of long distance bikers asks some questions and a long parade of vehicles tries to gain our support as potential voters. Nestor is a funny guy. He keeps asking which one is the candidate: we want a photo with him!

Entering Huacarpay, the string of incessantly beeping cars and trucks pass, and we arrive at the highway once more. A little patience and we catch a bus back to Cusco. I'm so drained, and I lightly doze on the ride. Thanks and goodbyes, Nestor. I hope to bird again with you soon.

Back home, I somehow muster energy to take a shower, but I don't last long after that.

Lifer total on the day: 21!!

Thursday:

Mystery solved! While walking past a group of middle schoolers, I heard that familiar song playing from a convenience store. A rare occasion where the wisdom of teenagers showed. Here is the song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-mloCL49vs

It's a shitty song. It's horribly inappropriate. But it's damn catchy.


Friday:

A day of preparation. The Salkantay Trek is tomorrow, so our group has to go to an orientation and rent some gear. None of us is willing to go out because we need to rise verrrry early. So afterwards I come home for dinner, and my host family loads me down with snacks and suggestions.

I finish my preparations by 12ish and sleep for an hour or so.

Saturday:

Flashback to Humantay. No wait, this is something different. A full day of walking on Wednesday was good preparation.

The van arrives at my place at 2:15. Music from a discotheque of sorts down the street fills the early morning air.

All of my buddies are already in the bus. Off we go. Despite our nervous excitement for what we are up against, we force our bodies into subconsciousness; we know we'll need it. 

Eventually we are forced back into reality. At Soraypampa now. It's much cooler than last time. Although the early morning scene is familiar, we're noticing new things. As we should, it's a new experience. 

Corralled into a shelter, we enjoy our first Salkantay meal: a light but fulfilling breakfast.

What else can we do but go for the throat? With a gift of coca from our capable guide Edson, we release a synchronized yelp and hit the trail.

Off to the Races

There are lots of people around at the start. A few lifers trickle in early on: Andean Goose, White-winged Diuca-Finch, and Black Siskin. Severity and incline increase.

"Gringo Killer"

Approaching Salkantay pass, the snowline appears. The landscape is barren, uninviting. Hail begins to fall as we take a sandwich and coca tea respite at la abra. The weather is looking iffy, but we decide to visit a little known alpine lake.

Abra

Gonna Make It

Conditions quickly intensify and worsen. Each step is critical. The frigid air burns my face, and precipitation (in various forms) begins to soak my clothing. 

Visibility

Peruvian Art: Author Unknown

Eventually we make it to the overlook without issue. We briefly glimpse the cobalt colored lake before visibility drops off. 

After a short stay, we make our way back to the Pass to find nobody in attendance. Approaching miserable condition, we begin our descent.

The descent was characterized by incessant rain, muddy steps, and low morale. The trail was transformed into a small river. Only my torso had been spared by my poncho. Feet and legs were soaked.

After what seemed like forever, we spotted our lunch location. We were entering a different clime.

At lunch, we crammed into a tent. All of us were in near-hypothermic condition, but you wouldn't have believed everyone's positive attitudes. Soup warmed us up good. Afterwards, some elected to change clothes, but this seemed like a vain undertaking to me.

Silver Cascades

Not long after, we hit the trail again, descending into bona fide cloud forest. Elfin trees hosted new species of warblers and hummingbirds. Unfortunately, daylight was drawing to a close.

We reached our campsite at night, ate a nice dinner, and hit the hay. We were exhausted and glad to be retiring in dryness and warmth.

Home

End of day lifer total: a respectable 10

Sunday:

Waking early, Edson visits each door to gift a scalding cup of coca tea. Today should be a more relaxed day.

The morning chorus is a promise of opportunity. An unfamiliar compilation of songs is punctuated by familiar phases from thrushes and sparrows. After breakfast we're out. 

Day 2 of Salkantay is paradise. Finally we're in the jungle, crossing swift rivers on foot bridges and navigating narrow trails under mature canopy. Here and there we cross a section of trail scarred by landslide where steep drop-offs mean certain death.

El Camino

Paraíso

Bird life is more interesting. The jewel of North American songbirds may be warblers, but the jewel of South American songbirds is the tanager group. Along the trail, I picked up three new tanager species. Despite constantly scanning the rapids for Torrent Duck, none seemed to be present.

Following the Urubamaba River, we came upon a cute little rest area where we refueled and took a break. I was thus granted much needed time to search and photograph.

Cinnamon Flycatcher: 1

Cinnamon Flycatcher: 2

Spunky Tufted Tit-Tyrant

House Wren fulfilling its namesake

It was then time to cross the River. But this wasn't just any river crossing.

La Canasta

Surviving independent shuttles across the river, we continued on as rain began to fall. Eventually we left the mature jungle and arrived at a road. A car was waiting to shuttle us to Lucmabamba, where we were to have a coffee experience.

Here, we walked through the process of making coffee, sampling at each stage. A female Silvery Tanager moved through the low coffee canopy as a striking Tropical Parula foraged nearby.

Across the street we found our home for the evening. Lunch was served, we donned our swimsuits, and hopped on a van to Santa Teresa.

What's worth seeing in Santa Teresa? Cocalmayo: a series of warm springs with a European feel.

En route we jammed to early 2000's pop favorites: the driver had clearly met his fair share of young American tourists. Santa Teresa was packed due to election excitement.

We had two hours to relax and heal at the hot springs. The natural mineral waters certainly rejuvenated our tired out bodies. While lounging in the water, we encountered two other ISA students from Lima and shared stories.

The best kind of clinic

Feeling much better, we made our way back to camp in the dark. All of us wished the drive would continue forever because the hits kept coming, and we wished to sing all night.

But eventually we made it to our home where we dined and jammed to Perpetual Groove, Chicago, Greta Van Fleet, and the Grateful Dead. Later we sat around the fire and shared tricks and watched Laurel as she attempted to detonate a beer.

The day having caught up with us, we got ready for bed. But not before we gawked at the luminous Andean night sky. Shooting stars abounded, and we made sure that there were enough for all. 

End of day lifer tally: 9

End of Week Lifer Tally: 40!!!!!