Colca Canyon Trek

Colca Canyon Trek

Left Lima on Tuesday the 25th for Arequipa at app. 9,000' with the intention to see the architecture of this old Spanish city. I had a recommendation to look up a trekking guide for a hike (trek) into Colca Canyon, in places twice as deep as the Grand Canyon and the best place to see the Andean Condor. After settling into my hostel, Casa Sillar built over 100 years ago of the local white volcanic rock used throughout the city. It turned out that they had a trip planed the following day and I decided to go against the general rule to spend 3 days adjusting to the altitude, and booked the trip with 3 others and our guide Ion as they didn't know when the next one would be. We left at 6: AM for the 5  hour bus ride, past a vicuna reserve at 12,000' (saw a dozen of these rare graceful cameloid ancestors of the alpaca)Saw my first bofedal, an alpine wetland populated with low dense  mounds of sedge with other minute plants providing dependible grazing through the dry season. The road peaked at 16,000' in a rocky landscape populated by dwarf cushion plants especially the llareta, a bright green mounded member of the parsley family. They are so dense and woody that they are sometimes used as fire wood. A long streatch of the road was unpaved and  so corrigated that at times my feet were doing an tap dance all on their own.

Cabanaconde was our destination. Surrounded by ancient terraces just showing 6" corn and broad bean plants. We had a good lunch and headed off across the gently rolling fields to the canyon edge. The trail down zigzag ed down a desert landscape studded with various cactus, agave, and shrubby asteraceae plants. Dusty and rocky, dropping over 3,000' in 2 hours. We met several small mules with there drivers bringing covered loads At the bottom a new cable bridge 5' wide and 150' long crossed the river, shrunken to a small stream by a massive irrigation project for the coast which takes 80% of the normal flow. After a steep switch backed climb of couple hundred feet we arrived in San Juan a village of about 25 families. After the dessicated trip down the canyon wall, San Juan (as are most of the low canyon villages) is a verdant place where the main crops are various fruits such as avocado, cherimoya, fig, apple, and others unfamiliar to me. They practice a form of permiculture here and trade their produce for the corn, beans, and potatoes grown on the higher fields around Cabanaconde. A small aqueduct followed the edge of the trail and at one point the whole trail was in use carrying a rush of water to lower terraces. We had to cut through an elderly Quechua speaking woman, a bit reluctant to have gringos in her yard and apparently astonished by my beard. The accommodation was in adobe huts with bamboo and thatch roofs (with a layer of blue tarp in between for the tourist's fussier demands for water proof bedrooms. It does rain some in December through May. Looking back the way we had come one could make out only a short stretch of trail the rest was sheer cliffs of columned basalt like the Devil's Causeway but only maybe 16" across but over 1.000' high and in places twisted to show the ends of the columns.

The next day we more or less contoured along the lower part of the canyon through 4 other villages, stopping in one to visit a friend of the guide who showed us around part of his farm, he had been to college and learned grafting and other techniques which he used to improve his plants. He was also the only bee keeper in the canyon. After a about 3 hours we arrived at a small resort called simply the Oasis. Maybe 5 acres of green amidst the dry canyon, with 3 rustic pools filled with water from a spring about 75 degrees (the river was more like 50 so it was a step up. We spent 4 hours relaxing swimming, eating, and taking a short walk to the waterfall still powerful after giving up part of its supply to the oasis. The temperature had dropped and a breeze had come up which helped temper the climb, but 3,700' starting at 6,000' it was the limit of my endurance. The guide took my 15 lb pack for the last hour and a half of the 4 ?? endurance test. On the way up we were passed by several mules going up as well as down. There were 3 crosses for people who died from falling off their mules It was evident that the mules often stumbled coming down on the loose rocks. One particularly well dressed woman, all in the intricately embroidered skirt, jacket and hat that make up the traditional dress here, passed us going up and stopped about 60' above and stared silently at me for about 15 seconds before resuming her ascent. Having barely survived the climb I went to bed with only water and coca tea. I bought a few rolls which I finally had an appetite for at midnight. Did have enough energy to take a picture of a children's parade with candle lit icons including a miniature church, which passed the restaurant.

We arose at 5:30 AM the last day to make it to the condor viewing area. Crowded along the edge of the road were dozens of women selling their native crafts. We went to the edge of the canyon and were rewarded with the sight of several condors including an adult which cruised several times within 100'. On the way back to the bus the woman from the trail was there selling traditional weaving etc. and I had to buy something so to keep my weight to a minimum got 2 pair of alpaca socks. Hard to tell if her statuesque gaze the day before was a sales ploy or a genuine curiosity about the grey bearded gringo.

Cheers Roger