15,200+ feet. The highest we've ever been and, yep, it was a pretty cool accomplishment. What Antonio called "D-Day" was indeed easily the toughest day of hiking on the trip. From Salkantay Lodge at ~12,700 feet, we went up to ~15,200 and then down to ~12,800 feets. Antonio's words of encouragement included telling us to treat it like Jack the Ripper ("take it piece by piece") and Johnnie Walker ("just keep walking!'). At times the going was slow, but eventually (7 and a half hours later), we got 'er done.
Looking back down at the Salkantay Lodge.
Our mules "911" (in case of emergency) and "912" (in case of BIG emergency).
Getting higher.
Here's Rhonda going up a particularly brutal sequence of switchbacks.
Taking a well-deserved break.
It was at this point that I started feeling a little "off". Sluggish and cold, with no appetite for lunch (definitely not the norm for a Combs). I ended up having a bit of a fever and bundled up for a "sweaty nap" for an hour or so before dinner at the end of the day. By the time breakfast came the next day, I was good to go again.
Not a bad spot for a snack break.
Post-snack, the pass beckoned. Before too long, we were getting pounded with wind, snow and rain. To be on the safe side, I had to put the camera away for a few hours. The first thousand feet or so on the other side of the path were navigation of various temporary and permanent creekbeds; good thing we had guides along!
Finally out of harm's way, here's a look back up at toward the pass a few hours later. Nice and peaceful down below; back up top, not so much!
Home sweet home!
After I shook off the fever, I had much more of an appetite for supper than I'd had for lunch. Another evening of good food, good company and a glass or two of Cusquena beer, the miracle cure-all.
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