Where is the Cordillera Huayhuash ?
~
Alone, June - July 2005
Travelogue by Roop Mallik
I had been to
All this began when we were sitting at
25 JUNE, 2005
The flight to
Reached Chiquain at 5:30PM, and checked in into the Gran hotel Huayhuash, a small but
friendly place. My plan was to hike east to a lake (Laguna Jahuacocha) at the
base of Huayhuash, and then to cross over to the eastern side of the cordillera
through a pass called the Cacanamputa pass (4800 m, see map). When I told the people in Chiquain that I wanted to
take this route on my own, and with my own backpack, they discouraged me. It
cannot be done - as simple as that. The mountains are too big, too remote and
too cold. There is no hope of rescue if I get lost or get sick at that
altitude. Reluctantly, I decided to heed their warnings and take an arriero (a
guide) along with a donkey to carry my backpack. In retrospect, this was going
to be a very wise decision. The hotel owner arranged an arriero for me -
Macedonio Garro. I was surprised to see Garro’s
nice business card, which he gave me after we came back from the trip. He
came in to see me in the evening, and we agreed upon a price through my broken
Spanish and scribbles on
my notebook. I was surprised that I
could communicate quite well in Spanish, and we could understand and analyze
complicated routes and situations. I liked Garro - he appeared to be modest,
simple and trustable. I was going to depend on him for the next few days. I had
a good dinner and went to bed early, however sleep would not come easily. It
always takes me a few days of acclimatization before I can sleep at these
altitudes.
26 JUNE, 2005, CHIQUAIN TO LLAMAC AND HIKE TO
JAHUACOCHA
I was up at 5:30 AM, before first light of dawn and went to the
roof of the hotel. First, it was dark but then very slowly but surely the grand
spectacle of Huayhuash unfolded on the eastern horizon. Dark shapes against the blood red of
the morning sky, and then an identity
and a name to each. As I shivered in the cold winds, I was so glad to be
here on this day and at this time.
I took the 9AM combi to the last village called Llamac. Narrow
mountainous dirt roads, wild scenery and the wonderfully brisk Rio Llamac
flowing past next to the route. Reached Llamac at 11AM, and found Garro waiting for
me with 2
donkeys, Negro (male) and Sulekha (female). Garro and I joked about how both of
us were here without our wives, but the donkeys would not go without each
other… talk about faithfulness !!
I had bought some rice in Chiquain, and gave it to Garro. This
was going to be our main food on the road ahead. We set off around 11:30AM in a
southerly direction past an old iglesia (church) in the main village
Two and a half hours of climb in the strong sun brought us to
the Macrash Punta pass (4300m). I made my way up wearily to the pass and flopped
down beside Garro. After a few minutes, I looked up
to the left and my breath came out in a delighted "whoosh". A wall of
mountains bedecked in white snow stood
boldly against a dark background of clouds. Mituraju, Jirishanca, Ninashanca
and then finally the massive crest of Yerupaja, lightly caressed by a drifting
veil of clouds. The mountains touched me with frigid winds, and I just sat
there taking in every detail of the beauty in front of me. I started talking to
Garro about his family, and how hard life was as an arriero in these mountains, where few tourists came. I was struck
by how stoic this man was - never once did he complain about his hardships.
Never once did I feel that he would rather be doing something else. I started
teaching him some English, and he was an eager student. In a few minutes he
could say "My name is Garro, what is your name"? He soon began asking
me for English translations of useful Spanish phrases that he thought about on
his own. I realized that all the phrases/words he came up with would be very
were useful when taking out hikers. Garro was a very intelligent man, and I
admired his desire to learn. I hope Garro still remembers some of the lessons
that I gave him during our time together.
Eventually, we descended from Macrash Punta on our way to Laguna
Jahuacocha at the foot of the Huayhuash. After a further 3 hours of steep
up-and-down, I was now starting to get tired. We did not find a good water
source anywhere on the hike, and I was surviving on only half a litre of water
for the whole day. It was all very sudden ... my legs were almost giving up and
I felt dehydrated and feverish. I could go on no further. I mumbled to Garro
"Soy enfermo" (I am sick), and we decided to camp right there. It was
completely dark and bitterly cold by this time. My fingers were numb, and it
took quite some effort to set up the tent. Garro lit up his alcohol stove to
make some rice. But the flame was too weak, and the water from the stream was
ice-cold. I took out my white-gas stove and we soon had the water boiling. I
convinced Garro about the virtues of Indian food (which he had never heard of)
and we emptied a pre-cooked packet of "Baingan Bharta" (Eggplant
curry) into the boiling rice. Soon, we had hot food ready and ate it with much
gusto.
Before getting in into the tent, I took a last weary look
around. The sky was ablaze with a billion stars, and the snow-clad peaks were
like distant mirrors, mysterious and barely visible in the weak moonlight. As I
let my tired body in into the sleeping bag, I knew I was going to be sick. The
first spasms of fever came, and I shivered uncontrollably for a long time. I
did not sleep a wink that night, trying to find non-existent patterns in the
sounds of the stream flowing by.
27 JUNE 2005, NEAR LAGUNA
JAHUACOCHA AND SOLTERACOCHA
I felt a little better in the morning, and drank a lot of water from
the stream. When I looked around our tent site in the morning light, I realized
how beautiful this place was. We loaded the donkeys again, and started the walk to Laguna Jahuacocha. I was
tired within a few minutes of walking, and when finally I crossed a moraine to
get my first view of Jahuacocha, I was almost dead on my feet. Still, the incredible beauty of
this place made its mark on my fever-ridden mind. Many kinds of birds fluttered
in and around the swamps by the lake. The reflections of the great mountains on
the water would disappear when a duck waddled across the placid lake, and then
reappear slowly as if by magic. We walked to the shore of the lake, and set up
camp near a few huts. The old shepherd-lady
living there invited me in, and offered me boiled potatoes and excellent queso
(cheese) made by the family. Many questions were asked, and many answers given
as we all got to know each other better. Garro told her that I was not feeling well,
and she immediately produced some coca tea. I also bought some fresh trucha
(trout) that they had caught from laguna Jahuacocha.
Garro collected some firewood, and we soon had rice boiling. We
added readymade "Dal", dried vegetables and fish to the pan and let
it all simmer for some time. The meal was excellent, and we enjoyed it in the sunshine by the
lake. Our plan was to hike past the north-east end of the lake, up the
mountains through the Sambuya Punta pass (4750m) and reach the next campsite of
Quartelhuain (see
map). However, I was in no physical
shape to go further up into the mountains. I told Garro that we would rest the
day here, and then try again tomorrow after I had recovered. In the afternoon,
we went for a walk to Laguna Solteracocha,
with magnificent close-up views of the
mountains. The views of Laguna Jahuacocha to
the west in the dying sunlight were excellent. That night the fever came back
with venom, and I spent my third sleepless night in a row.
28 JUNE 2005, AT LAGUNA JAHUACOCHA
I felt as bad as ever in the morning. The fever was taking a
heavy toll, and I had absolutely no stamina. Climbing the next high pass was
out of the question. These mountains were not very forgiving, and there was little
room for mistakes. I decided to go back tomorrow the way we had come. I had no
other choice, things can get very serious very quickly on the high mountains.
In such remote terrain, where you might not see another human being for days,
chances of help and rescue are very small indeed. I lay in my tent the whole
day, feverish and sad at the thought of what I was letting go.
29 JUNE 2005, JAHUACOCHA TO LLAMAC AND BACK TO
CHIQUAIN
We had rented a horse from the shepherds so that I could ride on
the way back to Llamac. So, at seven in the morning, I retreated on horseback.
I was weak, fever-ridden and embarrassed by my inability to even walk on my
own. After a 6 hour ride, I was finally back in Llamac just in time for the
combi back to Chiquain. I was now feeling better, and shared some chocolates
and small talk with my co-passengers in the combi. On reaching Gran hotel
Huayhuash, I had a hot water bath and a good lunch. Desperate to sleep, I
wearily crept into bed. Six hours later I woke up groggy and thirsty, but
feeling much better. Another light meal, and I was again back in bed. I slept
for ten more hours, and woke up fresh as a flower next morning. Garro came in
to see me around noon, and we went down to have a cup of tea. I promised to
send him his payment and a generous extra from Huaraz. This man had been a
trustable friend. Without him, I would have been in serious trouble in the
mountains.
30 JUNE AND 1 JULY 2005, BACK IN HUARAZ
My spirits had been quite low on the return from Jahuacocha. I
had so much wanted to cross the Huayhuash across the Cancanamputa passes. I had
imagined myself standing on the continental divide, where the mountain streams
on one side would make a short journey into the Pacific. But just a stone's
throw away, on the other side of the pass would be waterfalls and streams
making their way for many thousands of miles into the vast unknowns of the
Amazon, on their way to the distant
Back in Huaraz, just to recover and to cheer myself up, I did a
1-day tour of the Cordillera Blanca near
Huaraz. We went to Laguna Llanganuco, which is a high altitude lake set in between the giant
mountains of
After 16 hours of good sleep back in the hostel in Chiquain, I felt
as good as ever. The wild thought of going back to Jahuacocha and then on
further did cross my mind. However, I was still weak and could not take the
risk. But, I just had to see Siula Grande and the mountains near laguna
Carhuacocha. I had come too far to let it all go. I decided to go back to the
town of Huaraz, and then try to make my way to the closest village on the
eastern side of the Cordillera Huayhuash (see map). This village is called Queropalca,
and is rarely visited by tourists. This is because it is just too difficult to
arrange transport to the village, the roads are quite bad and it is a long long
drive through quite remote Andean landscape.
2 JULY, 2005. HUARAZ TO
CARHUACOCHA VALLEY VIA QUEROPALCA…
I was on the small bus to Huallanca at 6AM. I must have slept
off for a while, because when the bumpy roads awakened me, it was into a
different world. Why did nobody ever come here ? The tiny bus was by now deep
in the heart of the
Around 10:30 AM, I got down at Huallanca and was lucky to
immediately get a "combi" to my next destination, La Union. A combi
is basically a private car run by one of the locals, in which an arbitrary
number of passengers can be crammed in and ferried. I was a rare
"gringo" in these parts, and got all the attention from my fellow
passengers. I turned the music in the car louder, and everybody sang loudly for
an hour as the
Just before noon, I was in La Union ... a small town set ina
deep valley with one main road and a lot of people loitering around throwing
strange looks at the unusually dressed gringo in their midst. I noticed several
cars parked by the roadside, each with a young boy and a girl sitting in it
listening to loud music. I was in La Union for about an hour, and I did not
notice these characters doing anything else. Perhaps there were a few rich
families in La Union, and this was the favourite passtime of their younger
generations. Anyway, I had more important things to arrange, and being hungry
went looking for lunch. A hearty meal of rice and fried potatoes with salad
perked me up quite a bit. On some investigation, I found one Mr. Joseph... a
middle-aged gentleman who had a private car. After much negotiation, he agreed
to drive me to Queropalca for 130 soles (about 40 US dollars). It appeared to
be quite a large sum of money to pay at that time, but I had no other choice.
We filled up petrol and were away into the mountains.
On the way to La Union, I was marvelling at the remoteness of
the valleys I was passing through. But all that was nothing compared to the moonscape that we were now entering. Vast grasslands bordered
by towering mountains, windswept passes, small desolate houses on the way,
sheep running helter-skelter at the aproaching car, and not another human being
in sight for miles and miles. This fairytale drive went on and on for four
hours (80 KMs). I was in awe of this land. This was the very heart of the
Andes, where the real
We reached Queropalca at about 4 PM. Immediately, I knew why
everybody in Huaraz had discouraged me from approaching the Huayhuash through
this route. I had been through many desolate places, but Queropalca gave me a
very uneasy feeling for reasons I do not know. There were a few people
loitering around listlessly, and they would look up with a big question mark on
their face if you asked them anything. I wanted to get out of here as soon as I
could. Even the cold mountains were a welcome alternative to this place. Since
it was already quite late in the day, my plan was to hike till sunset and then
camp for the night. Early tomorrow, I would push for Laguna Carhuacocha.
With some vague directions and the help of my compass, I started
off along the Rio Carhuacocha towards the Cordillera. The Rio Carhuacocha
begins at Laguna Carhuacocha, which was my destination. So, just following the
river upstream should get me to the lake. This was going to be my first really
solo outing in the
The boy came running down the hill to me, and we made small talk
for a while. I gave him chocolate, and he offered to show me a water stream
where I could fill up my bottle. After filtering 2 litres of water, I bade
goodbye to my new friend and continued along the trail. As I made my way up the
valley, my mind searched for that word which would be the closest description
of what I felt. Suddenly, I had it.
SERENITY...yes, that was the word. As evening fell,
mist descended from the mountains and hung over the valley. There was absolute
silence as I walked along slowly, lost in my thoughts. I could not see them
through the mist, but the cold winds coming in along the valley gave me a feel
of the snow-clad mountains of the Huayhuash up ahead. Tomorrow, I would see
them at last.
I must have walked for a few hours before it got dark and very
cold. I came by a small hut, from where a little boy walked out and said
"hola". I decided to camp there for the night. The small shepherd
family consisted of a lady, her two sons and a very very cute little girl who
could barely walk. Her cheeks were like red apples, as you often find in
children growing up in the high mountains. The children helped me set up my
tent, and senorita offered me boiled potatoes for dinner. I went into their hut
which had a small fire burning at one corner, and a few baby sheep running
around inside. I took out a packet of spicy tomato soup and warmed it in the
fire. As I shared that simple meal with them, I felt very welcome and honoured
to be part of their world for a short time. When I came out of the hut, a weak
moon had risen in the sky. The shifting mist was almost luminous. I sat outside
for quite a long time, taking in this magic. When I finally crept into my
sleeping bag, sleep came easily.
3 JULY, 2005. ALONG THE
I was up at 4AM, and began my hike in the weak light of my
flashlamp. I wanted to see the east face of Siula and Yerupaja at sunrise.
Light dawned behind me on the eastern horizon, as I walked in anticipation
towards Laguna Carhuacocha. My first sight of Siula Grande was fleeting and
momentary, but mystical. Through the grey mist, I just saw two pockets of gold where the first rays
of the sun lighted up snow on the face of Siula. The mist gradually cleared in
the morning sun, and the immense face of Yerupaja appeared like a white
ghost, rising more than 8000 feet above
the valley. Siula Grande appeared soon after, sitting further back but in majestic
accompaniment to Yerupaja, but barely
visible. A little later, the mist had cleared and both the giants were visible in full
glory. Great mountains have a way of asserting themselves on you, of putting
you in your place... and I suddenly felt very insignificant as I admired the immensity
ahead of me. Even the clouds parted as the mountains wished, because I could see
strange funnel-like
clouds, just like a giant hat on Siula.
I reached the moraine overlooking Carhuacocha around 10:30AM,
and wearily climbed over it for my first view of Laguna Carhuacocha. What a
jewel !! The brilliant blue waters were calm, like everything else I had seen
in this valley. In this mirror were reflected the lofty peaks of Jirishanca, Yerupaja and Siula.
My mind went back to Joe Simpson's description of these mountains in his book
"Touching the void". This was indeed an ampitheater of stunning
grandeur. I sat there, resting my tired back on a rock for more than an hour
and taking in the views. Suddenly, there was a booming sound like thunder, but
only with much sharper overtones. I was hoping to see this, and there it was ...
an avalanche coming down the north-east face of Yerupaja. It was
exhilarating to see that mass of snow hurtling down the vertical face, but I
was glad to be at a safe distance. Though there are rarely any climbers on
Yerupaja, this would be “goodbye” to any unfortunate soul trying his luck at
this time.
Around noon, I descended to the lake and to a small hut near its
shores where I had earlier spotted a shepherd family and few children. As I
reached close, a small boy came running to me and asked for a pen !! I was
surprised why he asked for a pen. I searched in vain for a pen that I usually
carry, but just could not find it at that moment. To keep him happy I gave the
kid a small comb, and he started fussing
with his hair. His father later told me that the
kid is fond of studies, and goes to a school in Queropalca. I believed the
father when I asked the child "Cuanto hay Trientedos (32) menos Diecisiete
(17) ?", and pat came the reply "Quince (15)". At that time, I
regretted not finding my pen anywhere.
After spending some more time, I reluctantly started the long
walk back to Queropalca. I turned back innumerable times to get another last view of the mountains. I
was sad to be leaving this place. On the way back, I came upon the family where
I had camped for the night. On seeing me from a distance, the little girl with
red cheeks ran inside her hut and reappeared with a small rug for me, crying
out "Asiento, asiento" (seat for you). I was touched, to put it very
mildly.
I reached Queropalca in the afternoon. There was only one person
with a truck who could be hired to take me to the village on Banos further down.
However, I was told that there was a horse race going on somewhere in the
village and the truck was needed to ferry people. I waited till 8PM, and
chatted with some old men
in Queropalca before the truck finally arrived. After an hour-long truck ride,
I found a small hostel in Banos. Next day, I was up early and again retracing
my way back to Huaraz on a "combi" via La Union and Huallanca.
I was back in Huaraz and
packing my bags to go back. The evening sun lighted up the distant Cordillera
Blanca, as like any other evening in Huaraz. But today was the last time I
would see these mountains.
ADIOS, PERU !!