Pisaq - where rock and roll is NOT cool

The plan was to take a mini bus out of Cuzco to Pisaq and make my way to the 4 other ruins outside of Cuzco on my way back. Didn't actually work out that way.

Pisaq is about an hour ride at only 2.50 soles, $1, to the inca site in the sacred valley. It's essentially more ruins set into and on top of a mountain peaking at 2700m or almost 8900 ft. It's high. So I walked through the cute little village set at the base, purchased the expensive boleto touristico, at 140 soles, and began my ascent. That shit is steep. I was huffing and puffing, taking breaks at every flight of steps, and I noticed that everyone else I was passing was descending-- not ascending. Oh great, there's another entrance, and guess what, it's easier from that side. Hooray.

I continued climbing and to prevent the same stupid mistake I made at Taquile on lake titicaca, I was absolutely determined to climb this entire mountain. I plugged in my headphones and put on my workout mix to keep me going. Jay Z and the Black Eye Peas are pretty motivating, I have to say. I kept climbing higher and higher. When i was about 2/3 up, I saw a park sign. I thought, oh maybe it's a little factoid about how high we've climbed, or something motivational. Absolutely not. You have just climbed nearly 7500 ft and all that Peru has to say for it is, "don't climb the walls". Thanks a lot for those words of encouragement.

When I was about 3/4 of the way up, I noticed these dark, ominous clouds approaching. Oh shit. Here comes a thunderstorm. And I could see the sheets of rain pouring over the town ahead of me, approaching. I really wasn't sure what to do. Even if I tried to descend, I wouldn't make it all the way down in time, and I'd just throw away all the hard work I'd put in for the last 1.5 hours. So I decided to wait it out. I sat and hugged a rock that just covered over my head, but not really, and let the rain pour right over me. I wasn't so much afraid of the thunder (thanks to "my favorite things" that Fräulein Maria taught me to do), and I wasn't even too scared of the lighting, because I knew that even I am not THAT unlucky. What I was most afraid of was encountering nothing but muddy slopes and falling somewhere, a la 127 hours, alone, on a mountain, in Peru, knowing fully well that I will never cut off any limb to survive. Ever.

30 minutes later the storm passed and the sun came out. Great! I got to the peak and boy oh boy, those ruins were not that impressive, but it's ok. I made it! It was so high that the mountain touches the clouds. I took all these great shots, felt proud, and began my descent.

I started thinking about my blog entry and how I'd describe the day as a great success. The sun dried up most of the rain and there wasn't a single slippery slope to encounter. And I was so tired/amped up that I was flying down the mountain carelessly, realizing that my legs were working at half speed and I was tripping over myself frequently. And just as I had thought in my head, even I am not that unlucky.... my foot slipped out from underneath me as I slipped on pebbles, and i slid down the slope, scraping my back and hands along the way.

You see, when you are going down a mountain, it's important to choose your next step carefully. Rocks are your friend. Pebbles are not. Pebbles don't rock.

Pebbles are these tiny, sneaky little things with squeaky high voices that like to trick you into thinking they're on your side. When in reality they are not. They get together by the dozens and tell you, "hey, we know a way to get you down faster, wanna try it? We promise, you'll go really fast!" And lo and behold they all decide to start rolling underneath your feet so you lose your balance, and sure, you descend quickly. At the expense of your skin, and clothes.

Luckily they were only minor scratches and bruises, so I got back up and continued downward, cursing those sneaky stoners. I was even feeling so great that I confidently (but had no other choice) climbed down a rickety old ladder (I have a fear of ladders). I descended in about half the time it took me to climb, at around an hour and a half. And by the time I got to the bottom, my legs were literally vibrating. That was just about all I could handle for the day. Besides, it was then 5pm and the sun was setting soon.

Famished for not having eaten and exhausting all my calories on the climb, when i arrived back in Cuzco, I found a restaurant with a salad bar and wifi, (salad bars are a big thing here apparently) and just began shoving. Food, that is; in my mouth. And then it started pouring in Cuzco too.

How did I not get the memo that Peru = mountain climbing and <> relaxing vacation?