Llanganuco Lodge is located at the foot of Mount Huandoy and is just a 5-minute walk from the edge of the Huascaran National Park. The park, which was established to protect the Cordillera Blanca mountain range in Peru, is an Unesco World Heritage site and home to the world’s highest tropical mountain, Mount Huascaran. On our second full day at the lodge, Schuyler and I decided go on a day trek to Laguna 69. It’s a famous trek through the Cordillera Blanca mountain range that ends at a beautiful lagoon situated among glaciers.
Schuyler and I were the only guests at the lodge two out of the three days we were there, but on this particular day we were joined by Craig, a guy from South Africa who had been traveling the world for over a year, and Diana, his friend (or maybe girlfriend? It was unclear…) who grew up in Ohio and now lives in San Francisco. The four of us had decided the night before to meet at the lodge for a 7 a.m. breakfast, then to head out to the national park.
Schuyler and I showed up for breakfast in jeans and hoodies. I was wearing my Keen sandals, and Schuyler had on his everyday shoes. Craig and Diana were both wearing what looked like water-resisting, wind-breaking, sweat-wicking North Face zip-ups and those adventure sports pants that you can unzip at the knees when you’re really working hard and need some airflow. Diana was wearing hiking boots. Craig had a climbing backpack to hold their gear. Schuyler had his InCase laptop backpack to hold some snacks. We felt unprepared, yet then again we were. We had had no idea we’d be climbing the Andes.
Wilder, who appears to be the lodge’s go-to taxi driver, picked us up and drove us as far into the Huascaran National Park as vehicles are allowed to go. He dropped us off at the side of the road, but no paths were visible–just a very steep slope into a ravine filled with trees. “We can’t walk down that,” I said to Schuyler. “There’s no way down.” It’s a very good thing that I had no clue what other challenges awaited us, because I’m positive I would not–could not–have attempted the trek. In my mind I would’ve known it was impossible.
Well, we made it down the tree-filled ravine and continued to trek through a lush grassy valley where cows seemed to roam freely. A rushing mountain stream surged past us, and the sound alone reminded me how powerful water can be. We quickly realized that we novices were holding Craig and Diana back, so we told them to go ahead at their own pace. I was grateful they obliged because it meant that we could go at our own pace.
After quite awhile the terrain became more rocky–we were gaining altitude. As we climbed, the weather would change abruptly and dramatically within minutes. One minute I had my hoodie tied around my waist and was sweating from the heat, then next I had it on with the hood over my head. The next minute it would be drizzling, the next the rain would be coming down hard, and the next it’d suddenly be hot again and I’d realize that the rain had stopped.
The dramatic ascent caused other changes too. Schuyler and I started panting heavily with every step we took and had to stop frequently to catch our breath. The higher we climbed, the more difficult it became to breathe. Next came the headaches. I felt as though I were wearing a tight headband–not a pounding headache but consistent, dull pressure. Schuyler’s headache was worse, however, and with every step he took, he fought to keep the altitude sickness from taking over.
Countless times we almost quit, but somehow–only by the grace of God and encouragement from each other–we slowly trudged along higher and higher, stopping frequently for air and to congratulate ourselves on how far we’d come. We crossed streams by jumping rocks, sloshed through puddles, squelched through heavy mud, trudged through tall grasses, slipped over wet stones, and clung to the mountainside (and each other) for balance, strength and support.
I don’t think either of us thought we’d make it all the way to Laguna 69, but we were reluctant to admit it aloud because that meant we definitely wouldn’t. Eventually our goal became to make it to what had been described as “a small, murky and disappointing lagoon.” According to the guidebook, the good news was that this disappointing lagoon was not Laguna 69. The bad news was that Laguna 69 was still at least an hour and a half away.
By no small miracle, Schuyler and I reached the murky lagoon after climbing over a mountain pass. We were ecstatic yet too exhausted to celebrate, so instead we slid down next to a huge rock to breathe and escape the wind. We weren’t disappointed–we had made it to a whole new level. The landscape all the way up there had changed–suddenly we were on flat land again, and rather than slippery and rocky terrain, we were back to a dirt path leading through a huge, flat pasture filled with wild grasses and flowers. This pasture wasn’t surrounded by rocky mountains. This one was surrounded by snowy glaciers. It was incredible.
Craig later told us that we had reached 4250 meters in altitude, which is nearly 14,000 feet. No wonder Schuyler felt like his head was going to explode.
We never did make it to Laguna 69. Craig and Diana met us on their way back down before we could make it all the way up. It didn’t matter, though. We didn’t feel cheated of an awesome view–we had already seen more beauty than we could wrap our minds around and had accomplished more than we ever would have imagined.
