Huaraz itself isn´t much to write home about; most of it was obliterated in a 7.8 earthquake in 1970, reducing everything to rubble, and due to the general lack of money around here, it remains only half re-built, the cathedral in Plaza de Armas looking like a poor quality pre-fabricated concrete version of its former self.
Giving ourselves the first day to chill and acclimatise to the drastic change in altitude having come from the seaside, we bumped into Rudy, a friend from our Mancora days and met some alarmingly tall German girls, some Brits and an eager American mountaineer. We signed up for a day trek to Laguna 69, a glacial lake in the mountains which promised to be as sexy as it sounds. We were conveniently picked up at 6.30am by the company´s van (Galaxia tours - I haven´t heard the most flattering things about them, but they seemed to deliver today) and driven 3 hours into the Parque Nacional Huascaran in the middle of the Cordillera. The scenery on the drive alone was amazing - tall vertical cliff with again, more intimidating snowy mountains, "peak-ing" (see what I did there?!) over the top as if to say "Yes, we´re enormous, we´re freezing, crevasse-laden death traps and you´ll never be able to climb us". I managed to take some drive-by shots of the scenery from the front seat of the van during the hair-raising journey up the narrow, bumpy mountain roads. All of a sudden, just as some of us were nodding off due to the early morning departure, a striking aqua lake appeared withing the mountains as a chorus of "Oh my God, look at THAT!" emerged from the rows of passengers in the back of the van. We were briefly let out to take some snaps of the impossibly blue waer, which looked incredibly inviting to swim in, despite promising Hypothermia. The sun bounced of the lake which was rippling gently in the breeze,which made it sparkle like a glitter ball. After we had exhausted our "oohs" and "aaahhhs", we jumped back into the van to continue on to the starting point of our 5-hour trek to Laguna 69. If it was going to be half as impressive as the lake we just saw, I was going to be very impressed!
The trek initially took us through a flat, bright green flood plain, dotted with grazing cows and through which the roaring ice-cold river cut a hypnotic winding pattern. The trail gradually gained in altitude as we approached the smaller of 2 waterfals in the valley. My obvious lack of sufficient acclimatisation was already kicking in, the slightest conversation while walking was stealing air from my lungs and my heart was beating at twice its normal rate, leaving me gasping for breath and my muscles weak. Thankfully at least, the trail zig-zagged its way up towards to plateaued peak I could see before me, making it less of a suicide mission than it seemed. After two hours of struggling to get air into my lungs, stumbling over slippery stoney paths and willing my legs to keep going, we emerged at a smaller lake on top of that plateau I spotted earlier, only to discover in dismay that the Laguna 69 was a further hour´s trek across the flat meadow in front of us and up an alarmingly steep section of mountain. At this stage, my head felt like my brain was about to swell and burst, it ached to breath as it felt like someone was sitting on my chest and my legs felt like dead weights. With exhaustion and disbelief at what lay ahead, I sobbed until at least some of the ache in my chest dispersed and I continued to plod along. I´m sure Kev didn´t know what to do with me - he suggested we turn back but we had come this far I was so determined to keep going. The silver lining of the whole torturous experience so far was the breathtaking glimpses of the snowy peaks around us as the clouds dispersed. They were truly awe-inspiring and I´m not exaggerating when I say they really do stun you in your tracks and make you breathlessly mouth the word "Wow". I had never seen mountains this big before, coming only second to Everest and its Himalayan companions. I was informed that one of the peaks we were looking at, was the mountain used in the Paramount Pictures logo, a peak called Artesonraju, standing at 6000m. Stereotypically enough, these mountains really did make you feel miniature, like a tiny ant scurrying around in the scrub below. Once I gathered my strength again, I turned my back to the glorious sight and continued with the 200m remaining climb to get to our final destination. As Kev sped ahead of me with the agility of a mountain goat, I gained some motivation when we turned and looked down at where I was clutching to a rock, put his thumbs up and shouted "you have to see this!". So with what little energy I had left, I scrambeled my way to the top and let out one huge sigh of relief when, up ahead I could catch a glimpse of another perfect glistening pool of glacial water, this time surrounded by peaks so tall that when I tried to take a picture of the whole vista, I just coudn´t fit it all into the camera screen. The mountains were snow covered giants adorned with a glacier, slowly making its way down the slopes. Glacial melt created a series of torrential waterfalls,constantly repleneshing the pristine aqua lagoon and feeding the rushing stream nearby that eventually became the bigger of the two waterfalls we had seen earlier on in the trek. We were all completely aghast at this sheer beauty, completely un-scarred by human interference (apart from our presence) and I was totally in awe of this natural perfection that I had previously assumed could only be created in CGI. I constantly had to remind myself that I was really there, really standing in the middle of the snowy Andes, watcing Nature carry out its eon-old routine of carving out beautiful landscapes for us all to enjoy. The peace and silence of this area was a world away from the car horns and the whistle-blowing Police of Huaraz city. As I sat there eating my victory sandwich, I could hear the cracking and creaking of the glacier above us, reminding me that while I get to rest my weary bones for a half hour, that glacier never stops as it carves out the mountain in front of us, following the same routine it has for centuries.
We packed up our stuff and took our obligatory photos and set off on the 2-hour descent back the way we came. We had been so lucky with the weather; the clouds which had broken for about an hour, to grant us the uninterrupted view of the Laguna and it´s surrounding peaks had now regathered. A clap of thunder echoed through the valley and the heavens opened, first throwing rain at us and then heavy hail. By the time we made it back to our awaiting van, we resembled a group of poncho-clad drowned rats. Needless to say though that all that suffering and altitude sickness was most definitely worth it and I will never forget that sight as I appeared over the top of the hill. Never before was a hot shower and a glass of wine been more enjoyed than when we returned to Huaraz 3 hours later!
Artesonraju, apparently the Paramount Pictures mountain |
Laguna 69 |
Where we stayed: Alpes Huaraz http://www.hostalalpeshuaraz.com/
How much?: 25 Soles per person, per night, double room, private bathroom.
Entrance fee to Parque Nacional Huascaran: 5 Soles for one day
Bus from Huanchaco to Huaraz: 45 Soles for semi-cama seat
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