Take a hike in Peru – whatever your age
The Huayhuash circuit is at the hardcore end of ‘soft adventure’, but midlifer Chris Moss finds that the effort is well worth it
When I saw the lakes, I knew I’d made the right decision. Laid out in a chain along a stepped valley, two turquoise pools were separated by the swathe of a third dark blue pool – beautiful proof of how wondrous our planet can be. Towering on the far side was an impossibly steep slope of rock and scree and, above this, a huge glacier too white and pristine to seem real. I arrived late at the viewpoint.
The rest of the group had taken their photos, so I had plenty of time to soak it all in before collapsing on the ground to rest, drink a llama-load of water and snaffle an energy bar.
More than anything else, it was the lakes that had drawn me to the Huayhuash circuit, part of Peru’s Cordillera Blanca. I’d heard that the scenery was amazing, and that the route rivals better-known paths such as the Inca Trail. Online searches showed an image of the lakes – sun-washed, saturated – but when I looked for operators, it seemed very few UK-based companies offered the walk. Why, I wondered?
The eight-hour ride from the Peruvian capital Lima was painless, the landscape ever grander as the bus climbed from sea level to 10,000ft. But the air on arrival in Huaraz was thin. My partner, Kate, and I walked slowly around town, joining our fellow hikers and two guides, Lucia and Carina, for dinner. Most people do the circuit in groups of a dozen or so, sharing cooks, drovers, beasts of burden and tents.
After a sleepover and a short acclimatising downhill jaunt the following day, we travelled up to the first campsite. A brisk evening walk of no more than an hour’s duration, up and down a nearby slope, was tough. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The campsite, a sign advised, was at 13,714ft – higher than Lake Titicaca. I went to bed with a vague feeling of trepidation.
I was the second least fit person in the group. My preparation had been some Spinning classes and a couple of lightweight hikes at home. But I had a game plan, which was to go really slowly, rest frequently and not to care about the younger, fitter, keener walkers in front. Some were from Switzerland and the Rockies; I knew they’d be flying along.
The trudge to the first pass was hard work. Even Kate, who does hillrunning and triathlons, struggled, meaning I was the voice of encouragement (paid back with interest later on). It helped distract me from my own trials and, in a couple of hours, we found ourselves at 15,400ft – not bad for day one.
Excitingly, we were at the continental watershed and behind us the rivers tumbled to the Pacific Ocean. From now on we would be washing and filling our bottles at streams bound for the Amazon – and the Atlantic.
A hiking holiday is inevitably episodic and there were plenty of (ankle) twists and (funny) turns throughout the eight-day walk. There was an armytraining quality to our routines: 6am wake-up with coca tea; breakfast; packs on; walk upwards for four or five hours; rest for 15 minutes at a pass; speed-eat lunch; walk for five or six hours down to a campsite. That the camps were in extraordinary locations – with soaring snow-capped mountains on all sides – was some comfort, and the steaming soups and power-giving tuber and meat dishes were life-saving.
Yet it soon became obvious why the hike is undersubscribed and undersold in the UK. There are no Inca sites on the Huayhuash circuit; there are no lodges or hotels; there are no porters heaving a ridiculous load of other people’s gear. The age range of walkers is wide, but everyone has to carry a fair-sized pack with clothes and provisions for each day. In short, it’s not an easy hike.
On the second day, the least fit person in our group – having spent most of his time sitting on a horse – decided to go home. Several people needed to borrow animal blankets after discovering that nights at high altitudes are freezing; especially when you are camping in a wind-blown marsh. Yet despite the challenges, there were some major positives. The lack of luxuries and services, and the fact you don’t have to fly in, makes the walk about as low impact as it can be, given its faraway location. We left nothing behind, kept to well-worn paths, and hardly used any hot water.
The hiking operations also have community value. To get a dozen people around a challenging trail in one piece, you need donkey and llama herders, cooks, assorted labourers and guides. Our companions – and that’s what they felt like, not staff – were local Quechuaspeakers with fluent Spanish and some English. They knew the topography, the trail and its offshoots intimately; they were charming, helpful and skilled to a fault. Ever tried to knock up a quinoa salad and tuna ceviche from a backpack after a five-hour climb? Me neither.
Huayhuash is a transhumance region, with the hike only feasible during the dry months between May and September. On the circuit, you are forced out of your comfort zone – always a positive on a holiday, in my opinion. We admired the tropical glaciers of summits such as Yerupaja, Huascaran and Siula Grande, and there were moments of Zen-like tranquillity as we walked across fertile plains under a warm sun.
The final day came all too soon – and with it a knee-trembling descent of almost 4,000ft. A lifelong walking poleshunner, I was a born-again convert by this stage. At the bottom of the mountain was the village of Pocpa where we were to have a celebratory pachamanka – a traditional feast. Huge and generous, it gave us a carb boost that we no longer needed, but eating seated around a long wooden table, in a room with windows and a lavatory, it was the first step back to the modern Peru of roads, Wi-Fi, hotels and civilisation.
One of the oddest things about travel in your 50s and beyond is the assumption that, as you get older, you mainly need comfort, lots of food and drink, idle pleasures and swanky hotels – as if backpacking is age-sensitive and roughing it isn’t a luxury in itself.
That may be the best thing of all about the Huayhuash circuit – it reminds you that you don’t really need any of the usual trappings of a “holiday” to get through the day. Not every day, anyway. And you are never too old to try to push yourself and climb a mountain or two.
Covid rules Arrivals must either prove they are fully vaccinated or provide a negative PCR test taken within 48 hours of departure (under-12s exempt). Passengers must wear two face masks on flights bound for Peru and complete a travel form prior to departure