Gringa Vs Apu - Climbing Huascaran

My body swayed left. I caught myself. If I didn’t stop I would soon find myself hurtling down the side of the mountain. After 4 hours of hiking up past 4,600 meters, my head was pounding; my eyes swam in and out of focus; my legs felt like two throbbing hunks of metal. I flopped to the ground. The guide urged me on, saying that it was only a hill or two more to go, but my body didn’t believe him. As I tried to catch some of the scarce oxygen, I spotted my fellow travelers further down the trail puking a mixture of bile and chewed coca leaves off the cliff edge. I knew if I continued to watch, my breakfast would soon also become an offering to the Apu - the Incan mountain god.

Instead, with shaking hands I gave myself an offering – a snack bar. I felt energy rush into my veins. I stood up and forced myself to go on. I ploughed on past a million details, silver droplets falling from a waterfall, dark red bark peeling off a tree and lime green moss billowing. Finally, I turned a bend in the path to see a corner of dazzling turquoise crystal - Laguna 69. Copious quantities of serotonin evaporated my exhaustion. All I could do was grin idiotically at the divine beauty in front of me. The Incas believed that the Apus (Mountains) connected Cay Pacha (the
human level) with Hanan Pacha (the celestial world). Here in laguna 69 I felt as if I had reached the gates of Heaven, leaving the mortal world below me.

The glacial ice melt had produced a lake with water so bright and blue that it transfixed any visitor. The lack of oxygen had dehydrated my muscles and the sight of the water pulled me to the lake. I filled my bottle and drank. The flavor of water that had fallen as snow millions of years before human existence thrilled my taste buds. The lake was surrounded by snowy mountain tops. I sat awed by its utter splendor until I began to notice the patter of raindrops.

I made my descent to the rolling percussion of the rain. After 7 hours of walking I finally spotted the silver tour bus that had brought us here. I felt like a sailor, who after years lost at sea finally catches the smell of land.

I sat on the bus with an aching body and throbbing face. Deceived by the clouds and rain, a redhead without sun cream can only have one result – an incandescent gringo sunburn. Despite incessant salsa beats blasting on the radio and the bumpy dirt road, my head lolled and within minutes I fell into a deep sleep. I dreamt I was above the clouds, back at Laguna 69.