Let’s get real! Hiking the iconic 4-day Inca trail from Km 82 to Machu Picchu has been a dream of mine. I’d seen the mesmerizing photographs of the ruins and had read countless accounts of how magical the experience is. However, beyond the allure of the lost city, I knew I had a strenuous journey ahead.
I remember training for a whole year, every waking moment driven by the desire to conquer the trail. Every drop of sweat shed during training was an investment, a step closer to Machu Picchu. As days grew nearer, the weight of my own expectations, mixed with those I perceived from others, was overwhelming. I was consumed by the worries and doubts that perhaps I wasn’t cut out for this.
As my journey commenced, those fears proved valid. From the outset, the trail seemed to be playing a cruel game with me. Each morning I was the first one out of camp, a mark of my determination. Yet, as the sun dipped beyond the mountains each evening, I would trudge into camp, the last of the hikers to do so.
The most challenging day was undoubtedly Day 2. The portion that should’ve taken a fit hiker 4 hours to reach the ‘Dead Woman’s Pass’ took me a staggering 7 hours. It felt as if an invisible force had gripped my muscles, zapping them of all energy. The thin air of the Andes refused to satiate my body’s desperate cries for oxygen. There were moments I felt paralyzed, desperately counting steps like a lifeline. Sometimes, even the humble goal of 30 steps seemed like scaling Mount Everest. But giving up was not an option; not after coming this far. So, with a deep breath, and giving myself the grace I needed, I moved, one step at a time.
The treacherous descent was no easier. The ground seemed to move beneath my feet, causing me to slip and fall on Days 2 and 3. One of those falls was so bad I snapped a trekking pole in half. Blisters appeared, forcing me to rely on moleskin and blister bandaids for relief.
However, during these moments of solitude, as the path seemed to stretch infinitely ahead, my spirit found solace in prayer. Each quiet moment became an opportunity to worship, each hardship a testament to faith. Singing became my refuge, the lyrics echoing in the vastness, reminding me I was never truly alone. These Hillsong lyrics were the song of my heart in those trying times.
Jesus, lover of my soul
Jesus, I will never let You go
You’ve taken me from the miry clay
You’ve set my feet upon the rock
Now I know
I love You, I need You
Though my world may fall, I’ll never let You go
My Saviour, my closest friend
I will worship You until the very end
Jesus, lover of my soul
Jesus, I will never let You go
You’ve taken me from the miry clay
You’ve set my feet upon the rock
Now I know
I love You, I need You
Though my world may fall, I’ll never let You go
My Saviour, my closest friend
I will worship You until the very end
Every step seemed an effort, every ascent a mountain in itself. The second day, in particular, was a marathon of willpower. There were moments when every fiber of my being screamed for me to stop, to give up, to turn back. My body was battered – falls, blisters, and exhaustion were constant companions. But the heart and spirit? They were stubborn.
After completing the trail, I learned something that gave context to my struggles. Every week, typically, at least one hiker on the Inca Trail from G Adventures team (and I assume other trekking teams as well) decides that they can’t continue. They quit before reaching the end. In the week of my journey, I could have easily been that one person. The odds seemed stacked against me. The temptation to throw in the towel was very real.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I dug deep, leaning on prayer, song, and sheer determination. With every painful step, I reminded myself of the reason I had embarked on this trek in the first place. Not just to reach the famed ruins, but to prove to myself that I could endure, that I could defy the odds.
To those who think of taking on the Inca Trail or any other challenge in life, remember this: The path may be tough, and at times, you might feel like the universe is testing your resolve. But if you persevere, if you keep moving forward even when everything seems to be pushing you back, you’ll emerge not just victorious but transformed.
In the end, I did make it through the 4-day trek. It wasn’t just a journey across a trail; it was a journey of self-discovery. And in this odyssey, I found that there’s no force more potent than the human spirit determined to rise.
Completing the Inca trail was not just about reaching Machu Picchu. It was a journey of self-discovery, of pushing limits, of faith, and of resilience. It was a reminder that often in life, it’s not the speed at which you move, but the determination with which you push forward, that defines the journey.
To all those who dream of hiking this trail, remember, it’s not about comparing your pace with others, but about enjoying the journey, facing challenges, and believing in yourself. Through every stumble, fall, and struggle, the destination will always be worth it. After all, it’s the trials and tribulations that make the success sweeter. Read our story from Day 1 here…from there follow the rest of the adventure.
-S
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