30 miles, more than 5,000 feet of elevation gain, and a maximum altitude of 15,583 feet – The Santa Cruz Trek was a calf-burning, hyperventilating, beautifully rewarding experience. After a week in Caraz for my second Peace Corps health training, and reuniting with fellow volunteers, I set off on the 3-day backpacking trek with two buddies. The trail started in Vaquería, about a 3-hour drive from Yungay (only 20 minutes from my site). It ended in Cashapampa, a 1-hour drive from Caraz (also 20 minutes from my site – needless to say, I once again feel pretty darn lucky to be living where I am).

Each day consisted of about 10 miles and 7 hours of walking. Day 1 was a gradual incline, with the last hour foreshadowing the brutality that we would face in Day 2. After camping along snow-capped mountains that first night, we set off at 8am the next day for 2 hours of a straight uphill climb. In 2 hours, we hiked 2 miles for a total elevation gain of 2,000 feet in order to reach Punta Union, the highest point of our trek. Before starting the climb, I remember thinking how the mountain range looked like a literal wall that we had to scale … it was hard to imagine how we were going to do it without making it a rock-climbing expedition. Nonetheless, there was a way, and I arrived at the top huffing and puffing and with legs of Jell-O. As I stepped through the mountain pass, I was hit with a vast, never-ending view of the laguna-spotted valley below. It was magnificent and breathtaking and quite cold and so many other adjectives. We sat there for a bit, taking it all in as the huge, snow-capped mountains around us made the occasional, eerie, distant sound of an unseen avalanche.

From that point on, the trek was essentially all downhill. They say you get hit with altitude sickness on your way down, and that’s what happened to me. For a bit there, I went “dark” – a term I learned from Campbell’s military buddies to describe the mental state when you hate your situation and just have to quietly fight your internal demons and try not to think until you get to the light at the end of the tunnel. I was nauseous, battling diarrhea that started the night before, and was debating at what point I might need to pull over and throw up. Luckily, I made it through. I could barely stomach the 2-day old, soggy PB&J roll-up that day for lunch, and instead spent my break laying down and contemplating the situation I had put myself in. As the saying goes, “this too shall end”, and end it did. Eventually, I came back into the light and the rest of our trip was a breeze. The company I had was amazing – we talked of old stories, our hometowns and upbringings, social issues, embarrassing moments, broken bones, and more – the endless conversations that only days in nature and no cell phones can bring about.

We set up camp for the 2nd night, cooked our instant ramen and canned tuna (which I believe was the culprit of my intestinal issues), made a fire, roasted odd-tasting marshmallows, and warmed up our hands and toes as we looked at the stars. After my friend Lucas read 2 chapters of Narnia from his tent to put us to sleep (as he did the night before as well), I woke up in the middle of the night, and despite the almost freezing temperatures, unzipped my tent to take a look at the night sky – and boy oh boy I did not regret it. It was impossible to know what time it was, but the sky was perfectly clear and full of bright twinkles.

Day 3, we only had 8 miles of downhill to go. We knocked it out in 4 hours, and found our way to the small town of Cashapampa, where we shotgunned a beer as we waited for a car to take us back to Caraz. The old man next to us couldn’t help but laugh at the delincuent gringos, but there was no better way to end a 3-day trek, if you ask me. Now three days since returning to Pueblo Libre, my calves are still in a recovery process.

This week is chill – everyone is preparing for the anniversary this weekend, which kicks off Friday with a day of volleyball, soccer, and beer, and will go through Monday. School is basically nonexistent, as each day is full of games, competitions, and rehearsals for dances yet to be performed. And, in most important news, Kim and Ken get here in only 2 days! Hard to believe the time is actually here, 9.5 months of waiting. Stay tuned for Lucie and Padres adventures.