Gramma Barbie Goes Global

At the top of Dead Woman’s Pass – a lowly 13,776 feet above sea level.   the last picture is looking back at the pass – can you see the profile of the woman lying down?  This profile is where the pass got it’s name not from a woman dying on the pass!!  In fact, it’s other name is Sacred Woman’s Pass – I like that better…..  This was the only section I wore my hiking boots for….going up was OK, but as we started down the other side of Dead Woman’s Pass, they started to hurt my feet.  I had only worn them because my five fingers were still wet in the morning.  After I put my five fingers back on, no more foot problems so I gave my boots to a porter – just hope they work better for him!

With my trekking family at the top of Dead Woman’s Pass where they waited for me so we could take our second family photo.

Not our porters, but a team that all walked together and rested together – here they have just passed us and are lining the trail for a brief rest.  These guys were incredible to watch – they marched steadily and were always together.  Other groups came by singly or with just a few together.  The packs were bigger than some of the men carrying them!

This was the first toilet we encountered on the trail.  As I came out of it on that first morning, a lady looked in and said ‘oh, I can’t do that!  I will wait.’  Not sure how long she waited, but, it was the best toilet we encountered on the trail – at least it flushed!

After this last picture it started raining and got dark and got not so much fun….I began to think I had made a big mistake thinking I could make this trek.  It got steeper and more stairs and harder….camp came after dark and the tents were soaked inside and out….my flashlight wouldn’t work…..whine, whine, whine!!!  Then a fantastic supper was served in our dining tent and we got our briefing for the next day – a 10 to 12 hour hike up Dead Woman’s Pass, down into the valley, up over the next pass, then down to camp which was, we were told, going to be the coldest night of the trek…..bed, even in a wet tent, sure felt good that night!!

Us organizing our packs, the porters organizing their packs, I’m ready to go.  The porters had to go through a checkpoint to have their packs weighed – they are allowed 25 KM for the company then only 1 to 2 km for their own items.  We stopped at the sign for a briefing from our guide then we lined up at our checkpoint where our passports were compared to our permits and everything got stamped.  I had gotten up at 0400 to head out and we started hiking at 1100……it was a couple of hours just to get to KM 82 then a lot of red tape to get onto the trail.

Our first ‘family photo’ as we got ready to start our trek.  I was the oldest, by far, of the group.  The next oldest was 34 and the average age was probably about 23.  We were divided into two groups for the guides.  The four young men standing on the left side of the picture were my ‘English speaking’ companions – they were from Holland – and the rest fell into the Spanish speaking category.  They were from Peru, Venezuela, and Argentina.  I was a little nervous since the group was so young, but I could not have had better trekking companions – an absolutely great group!

The Incas developed large storage areas with windows for ventilation.  The people would bring new agricultural items there once a year and they would be returned to the people during times of poor production.  Dehydrated potatoes, for example, could be kept in these storage areas for 10 to 20 years.  We were shown some dehydrated potatoes and they looked and felt like stones.