"She rides the night next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She's taken my heart
But she doesn't know what she's done"
- Patrick Swayze

In 2015 I read some material on the Cordillera Blanca. I couldn't figure out why I wasn't going down to Peru every year to climb - excellent weather, short approaches and fun peaks. With a hesitant wife, I knew I had an uphill battle. In 2017, I dipped my wife's toe in more "adventurous" vacations by doing some backpacking in Greenland. I would call that trip success since a couple weeks later I was able to convince her to allow me to book tickets to Peru, with no promises of mountain climbing. Deep down, she knew we would make at least one run at a mountain. Eventually, after the suggestion that we take jazzies down to Peru instead of gear to climb mountains (since that is our eventual, boring fate), my wife got worn down - more to shut me up than her own stoke to climb.

One my regular climbing partners asked in Spring of 2018 about heading to Alps, but I had to decline since Peru was committed to. I extended the invitation for Evan to join and after a few meetings talking over expectations and sniffing out how well us 3 would work together, we had a 3rd person on board. I feel it worked pretty well, Evan and I climb at about the same level and we all were both dipping our toes into bigger mountains at the same time.

I already had the mountains picked out - Urus, Ishinca and Tocllaraju. Researching other trip reports, these 3 make a great Cordillera Blanca introduction. More importantly, a great introduction to bigger, glaciated peaks. Further research revealed that a camp cook makes life @ 14,300' really easy and is "inexpensive." A couple weeks beforehand, I arranged logistics and the cook with Peruvian Andes Adventures (Hisao Morales). I cannot recommend them enough. They responded promptly and very detailed. There was no confusion on what was or wasn't included. The invoice had line items and Hisao employs a native English speaker which was key for us. The downside being that the price tag is a bit higher than you can probably sniff out elsewhere. Hisao has an excellent reputation with porters/cooks/guides and is fair to all people. With us being on a tight schedule, we didn't want to trip over a dollar to pick up a dime, so we spent a few extra bucks to keep everything on time. I can't say if we would have opted to save maybe $50-$100 total if everything wouldn't have run on schedule, but I can say there is no doubt who we will use next time - Hisao.

Day 1 - Flying to Peru

Flights to Peru leave a lot to be desired. Especially if you're a premium cabin snob like myself. It's a delicate balance...yes we could have flown via Singapore in suites, but that doesn't make sense. We settled on American, especially since it would allow me to work the day we left and save a day of vacation. Their business class product leaves a lot to be desired, but that is generally the theme when flying to South America. When United has one of the better products, you know you're in trouble. We left Denver around 5 pm on a Friday and caught our connection in Dallas. Evan, having booked on Expedia got sold one of those oddball itineraries - flying United DEN-DFW and then American DFW - LIM. I won't lie, I was skeptical either he and/or his bag wouldn't make it. But when we met up with him in Dallas he said they checked the bag all the way to Lima.

Day 2 - Lima to Huaraz

Amazingly, all 3 of us made it to Lima on time with all our bags. I did my best to hold my nose while in my fully flat, but less than 6'2" in length, seat. Even my 5'10" wife thought the seat to be a little short. None the less, poor Evan was grinding it out with the commoners in row 35 of the boeing 757. We tried not to complain too much about business class.

With it now being 6 am, once we collected our bags and after my morning stop in Servicios Higenicos, we faced the most daunting part of international travel. At least to me, the airport transfer FROM the airport once you land always pisses me off. You get the "white guy tax" and it's always a PITA. Having read up on it, it seems "Green Taxi" is reputable, but a bit pricey. So, we stopped next to the Green Taxi booth (with identical prices) with your normal young female college grads in tight skirts. For 74 soles, they would take us 15 mins east to terminal Plaza Norte - the bus station we would board our bus to Huaraz. I always find it interesting how many times you get handed off after paying (in this case 3 times), but the first handoff is always from a woman to an old man. Nonetheless, we found ourselves in our van practicing our British accents for the "bag guy" who grabbed one of carts about 10 feet from van and helped throw the bags in the back. Evan, somewhat new to international travel, dug around in his pocket for some change. My wife and I gave him the "jolly ole England" treatment and ignored him.

We had about 3 hours to kill at the bus station and with the bus company not taking our luggage, we checked it in for someone to watch (3 soles/bag/hour) so we could walk around. We hit the ATM next to the guy changing the cash in a neighboring ATM, who's buddy was leaning against the wall with his hand on his Colt 45 revolver. Slowly and without sudden movements we walked away with some cash and our lives only to take what was probably an ill advised lap around the outside of Plaza Norte. It felt good to stretch our legs and we found a bodega to stash up on some snacks for the bus ride. We were warned by Peruvian Andes Adventures to not eat the meal served on the bus, advice we would all ignore.

Finally, after hitting the restrooms (2 soles/person/trip) a couple times and stashing up on diamox at the pharmacy in the bus terminal (over the counter in Peru, 2 soles for 250mg tabs), getting hit up for being overweight on our baggage (home boy hooked us up by only charging 20 soles and wanted a little side action, I just didn't know how much he saved us so he ended up with the "I don't understand" stare instead of cash) and then paying a facility fee to board the bus (8 soles/person), I was reminded of the words of the infamous hotelier Thenardier, "Nothing gets you nothing, everything has got a little price!...Charge 'em for the lice, extra for the mice, 2 percent for looking in the mirror twice." It was a thought to ponder as we sat in the "Sala VIP" which had a "free" bathroom, but smelt as if we were sitting in it (which I would say was free, but am almost certain was included in higher than published facility fee we paid).

We found our semi-cama seats on the 1st floor of the bus. Since we were the 2nd stop, people were already relaxed and settling into the ride, so we squeezed into our seats with the people in front of us already in full recline. The nun in front of Evan didn't give much generosity in terms of seat recline the whole trip, but that was much better than the bratty Peruvian kid who was watching videos on her phone without any headphones. We took in the street scenes of a foreign country - most impressive to my wife were people selling goods in the middle of highway. Sure, the traffic was heavy, but the lines on the road are more suggestion than rule leaving little room for those peddling goods. Most surprising is the cloud cover over Lima, which in the winter is 24/7. I quickly tired of the gloomy look and dozed off for a bit.

I awoke to the same 30 second riff being played on the phone behind me. My hopes that the battery would die were in vain. On a brighter note, the sun was now out and we were at 6000 ft and winding up a road. My needless and chest thumping boycott of the bus restroom came to an end on the meandering switchbacks. I did my best and apologized to my wife when I plopped back down into my seat. Everyone had now put their seats up and the bratty nina behind us had replaced her phone with a chanting "Comida! Comida! Comida!...." Around came the meal, which we breifly talked about not eating. The Bay Area professor sitting behind Evan told us the food was ok and in 20 years had never gotten sick from it. Who am I stick my nose up at something Palo Alto-ite will consume?

Finally, popping out on a high plain surrounded by the Cordillera Huayhuash, Blanca and Negra the feeling was becoming real. We got some food recommendations from the professor, Creperie Patrick was the spot to go. When our big bus backed into its narrow parking spot at a busy intersection in Huaraz, we were happy to see Marisol (daughter of Hisao) holding a sign with our name on it. Her English was basic, but more advanced than my spanish. It's always nice to have someone there to help you get to your hotel in a new town. She helped us get out bags, which all the Americans stood in line while the rest of the world pushed their way to front. Once we elbowed our way into getting our bags Marisol told us the Marisol-esque "ok chicos vamos" and flagged down a cab that would handle 3 oversized Americans and their huge duffel bags.

We stopped in front of a construction zone on a narrow street with Peruvians lounging around on the street. I think we all hesitated for a minute and wondered what kind of scam we were entangled in. Hisao came down and schlepped a bag and we grabbed the rest. We handed over our passports and were given keys to our very clean and basic rooms - well worth the $45/night. Hisao came up to our own little private "wing" of the hotel and went over the next day, which we opted for a private taxi up to Churup lake (14,600') for a little acclimatizing the next day, which would be 150 soles. And when we returned from the lake, he would meet with us to go over all the logistics for the rest of our trip.

The 3 of us got our bearings and headed out for a wild night of Crepes and churros. Creperie Patrick was as good as touted, and we even ate with the professor who was going to dine by himself. We enjoyed having a bit of company and hearing his archaeological experiences at Chauvin. At the end of the table sat a guide who talked about the major theme of the trip, el viento. I overheard him saying he just got back from an attempt at Tocllaraju (the big goal of our trip) and it was too windy. So windy in fact, that many groups didn't even make high camp.

Day 3 - Laguna Churup

Breakfast at Hotel Morales is on the top floor. The views aren't too shabby. The breakfast is acceptable - tasty, but small portioned for what I was looking for.

We then met our driver, Gregorio, who then drove us to get his tires aired up and some gas, then it was off to where we were headed. On the way up to the "trailhead" his phone was ringing constantly. I appreciated that the conversations were short, to the point and Gregorio yelling into the phone like a grandma. He told us his buddies were calling him to go drinking, odd for a Sunday morning in my book. Once I put together that the world cup final was going on, it seemed a little less weird for some reason. Finally, Gregorio dropped us at the "trailhead," which differed from the real trailhead. We wondered through a farmers field, jumped a couple fences and my wife squated on the other side of a rock fence to find she was bearing all to a house. We finally found the real trail and the hordes of people. We ducked the 150 sole park entrance fee, I can only assume "Ranger Rick" is one of Gregorio's buddies who wanted him to watch some soccer and throw back some cervezas.

Some short scrambling sections provided a bit of entertainment. I mainly watched to see if Evan and my wife were using the installed cables. We finally made the lake to enjoy the beautiful views. We decided to hang out for a bit, mainly because our taxi driver that was supposed to wait for us arranged a time to come back. After knocking him down on the pickup time more than an hour, we still had ample time to lounge around the lake.

We made quick work of the trail going back down. Only to sit and wait for Gregorio to never show up. Since we weren't at the main trailhead a Taxi driver stopped to see if needed a ride home. In my broken Spanish I explained we were waiting for Gregorio, who happened to be his buddy. He called Gregorio and told us to get in. I told him we were to pay the hotel we arranged the taxi with and he was cool with it. We then picked up a French girl who this taxi driver was really supposed to come and get. Near town she wanted to know the payment arrangements which I explained we were paying our hotel. Of course, she was only on the hook for 30 soles each way, but seemed savvy enough to barter down the shared ride she now had.

When we got back, we met with Hisao to go over the final details. We also told him of Gregorio not showing up to pick us up. He knocked the cost down from 150 soles to 100 soles saying, "he needs to learn." He didn't look too happy about it. The meeting went quickly, there were no surprises and we were off to town to have some food. My wife started "shopping" which took forever, but I have learned to take a seat nearby so I can answer questions about what I think toddlers would prefer. Within a reasonable time we were walking back up the hill to the hotel.

Day 4 - Walk into Ishinca Base Camp

We had breakfast at 8 and hit the road by 8:30. Our cook, Emilio, was waiting for us in the lobby. I stacked the duffels and I appreciated that Emilio grabbed the biggest one. We'd later find out that he used to be a porter and is now 67 years old. He also speaks no english, which I thought we would be fine since I made it to duolingo level 3. Who needs google translate? (which we didn't download).

One bomb that Hisao dropped on me the day before is that we would be walking in via Collon vs the slightly easier Pashpa. Hisao mentioned we were helping with some geopolictical stabilization in the area - so we settled on Collon up and Pashpa down. When Pashpa was established as a trailhead I remember reading a trip report about the Collon-ites putting boulders across the road. Today is much more civil, I assume with this unwritten arrangement for some of the larger outfitters to use them half the time.

After about an hour or so in the van we stopped in the middle of the road where a few mules were tied up. There was an older Ozzie looking like he had just gotten off a cruise ship stretching on the side the road. Just how you picture fellow mountaineers. Emilio gave us snack bags and told us he had lunch for us half way. I tried telling him the snack bags which included dried fruit and nuts, cheese sandwich, juice box and fruit would suffice. The message was not conveyed. I think he said "transmission broken" as he walked away mumbling in spanish.

Emilio led us at a perfect pace, not too slow and not too fast. Goldilocks would have been happy. We finally crossed the entrance to the park and we were surprised to find that no one was there. Thinking of saving 150 soles each put a little pep in our step. We were finally coaxed to stop for lunch. Thinking of another lame sandwich, Emilio delivered with what I think was Pollo de Gallina, complete with fresh olives. Our mule train showed up shortly after we sat down and cleared all the cow pies away and handed Emilio the large thermos of hot water for tea.

I think this was the moment I realized "the cook" was worth every penny. I was sitting in the sun, eating excellent food, sipping on hot manzanilla tea with real plates and metal flatware. Or maybe it was the trout I would have that night. Or the pancakes with manjar. Either way, surrounded by mountains, I was relishing the moment.

With dogs running around, we didn't want to just throw our chicken bones, but we handed them to Emilio who tossed them into a bush for us. I'm not much of a dog person anyway and we weren't going to fix this cultural disparity in the next week, so we walked away.

Finally, we made it to base camp. The arrieros were setting up the cook tent and had staked out an area for us. A nice little spot on the confluence that every one who came down from Ishinca passed. Busier than I would like, but not too bad. Wanting to get the lay of the land, we checked out the toilet situation after getting camp setup, which left a lot to be desired. My stomach was knocking on the door and I thought that a week of this would be pure hell. One was plumb full, I literally mean I couldn't have sat down without something dangling into a pile of poop. There was the hovering option, but I was worried about poo sliding off the pile and into my leg. The other outhouse had no door and two pit toilets facing each other. You know, for those times you wanted to have an eye-to-eye conversation while taking a dump. Luckily, there was sort of an unwritten rule to watch the outhouse for about 15 minutes before you headed up there to make sure you wouldn't invade on anyone's privacy.

I sent my wife into the Refugio to get some prices as I sheepishly stood outside. I think the toilet was 5 or 6 soles ($2 USD). A shower was 30 soles ($10 USD). All services we wouldn't take advantage of. We were also looking for benicia, as we forgot to pick some up in town and I thought for some reason Emilio would be cooking with white gas but he used propane. The wife wasn't able to get the price of the white gas at the refuge.

Next stop was the bodega de mujeres. These women, I assume from Pashpa, ran a little store. Quite simple - a single beer, a single inca kola, a single coke and a single liter of bottled water was their display. The warehouse was around back, and if there was something you didn't see but wanted, just ask. They either had it in the back or I'm sure they could procure just about anything since they helped the arrieros setup and take down camps. Nothing seemed further than a day or two away. While these women seemed uneducated, they had a firm grasp on the microeconomic principle of supply and demand. When I asked about a liter of benicia, they pulled out of sprite bottle that clearly smelled of white gas. "Cuanto es?" "30 soles." That's $10 or a shower, and in town only cost 2 soles (less than a buck). We told them we'd be back and we never bought gas from them.

Emilio was shocked at the price and told us we should have got the white gas in town. I'll definitely use that advice next time. Luckily, Emilio was able to get us some white gas from a fellow cook. At first he said it was free, but we ended up paying 10 soles. It's that Peruvian charm of not giving anything away that we have all come to love.

Each day's meal consisted of breakfast, lunch (sack lunch if hiking/climbing), afternoon snack and a "3 course dinner." For our afternoon snack Emilio had made popcorn, which we heard while we were setting up our tents. He invited us in to have some popcorn and to my surprise we had a table and chairs to sit down at - certainly a nice touch. Dinner consisted of soup, trout and a dessert. Evan would give his manly approval each and every meal with a deep growl. One day, he'll give me a growl for a camp meal I make, but I have a long way to go until I produce anything Emilio-esque.

We set the time for departure the next day. I think we woke at 4:30.

Day 5 - Urus Este

Urus is the easiest of the 3 peaks and a great warmup. You walk about 2/3 of the way up on steep trail on a ridge. Boulder hop for a 10-15 minutes and then don the pons. It's then a couple of short steep sections and then about 100-200 meters after that.

Emilio had breakfast ready at 4:30. Snack lunches were passed out with real fruit which was quite heavy. We shoved off at around 5:00. After stopping and waiting for 3 people to use the pit toilet (did I mention our food had a lot of fresh veggies?), we were finally walking about 5:20. At about 5:25 we had gained about 300 ft and my wife threw up. She swore she was better and I told her if there were any other signs of altitude sickness, she was done.

I was a little nervous how this would work out since it was my wife's first time really on crampons in a real climbing situation. Ditto with the ice axe. There was a short crash course given on how not to put holes in your pants. Also some basic self arresting. After that, we climbed.

No rope was needed. Eventually we made the summit. Evan zoomed ahead while the wife and I took our time. We were definitely feeling the altitude @ 17,700'. No signs of AMS, but we were a bit short on oxygen.

We slowly made our way down, doing some short, but beneficial and SAFE glissades. We also got to work on our self arresting. Finally, we made it back to camp and Emilio had our afternoon snack ready. We were all happy to have our first "biggish" mountain under our belt, but we knew there was more to come.

Day 6 - Rest Day

We lounged around, I did so mainly in my long johns and dually parka. Emilio fed us well. We practiced crevasse rescue for the next day. And I think I took a nap. Ranger Ricardo did come around to collect our 150 soles park entrance. No questions about whether we were trekking or climbing. Nor did he care about our climbing qualifications that I had taken the time to download from the internet and laminate to make it look extra official.

Day 7 - Ishinca

We decided to get a little earlier of a start than we did for Urus. Once again, Emilio never let us down. He had breakfast ready complete with sack lunches. He even got the orders correct, "no frutas por mi y mi esposa, Evan quiene frutas." At least that is what I think you should say. Regardless, Evan had 2 giant oranges to haul around and I had zero compared to the 4 I was carrying up Urus.

We blazed a trail and let my wife set the pace. She actually sets an awesome pace on trail. We passed 2 groups on the way to the glacier, which they all caught up to and took off before us while we were pointing up. Being new to the whole glacier travel thing, we took a long time. But, small baby steps got us there eventually. A French team passed us right before the summit pyramid, which they were a whole 'nother level - actually quite beautiful to watch a team of 4 work that well and efficiently together.

It was like a sauna on the summit pyramid and the snow was getting a bit soft. I thought long and hard about life, mainly about one of the other 2 slipping (mainly because of the snow conditions) and all 3 of us dying. After I awoke from day dreaming, I decided to take 2 mins to pound in a picket complete with tibloc.

We appeared to be the last party of the day to summit, and everyone opted for the "tour" - up the North side, down the south. A beautiful route. We headed off the south side of the pyramid. Well, at least we wanted to. Team Argentina was fumbling with their rope. It was one of those things where you could tell it was going to be a hot mess even before they started off. We waited close to 30 mins for these clowns to descend a stepped out 30', likely <40 degree slope. All 3 of us made it down before they had their coils taken back in.

The rest of the route is pretty cruiser and very enjoyable. By the time we were off the glacier it was boiling hot. I shed down to my long johns for the hike back to camp. We were also out of water, so we made pretty good time down.

Emilio was ready for us as we put our stuff away and he busted out the afternoon snack and my favorite, popcorn. Shortly there after I was catching wafts of the butter and garlic - heaven on earth. I walked over to the bodega to grab some Cokes, but sprang for the Inca Kola instead. If I never have Inca Kola again, I will probably be ok. We watched the sunset over Tocllaraju and I mentioned to my wife, "Crazy it's 2000' higher than what we just climbed." "Yeah, I'm out" was her response.

Day 8 - Rest Day

We took another rest day, which was uneventful. We ate, we napped and my wife fought off any advances I attempted to make in the tent. So, it was basically a normal day.

Day 9 - Move to Tocllaraju high camp

It snowed. And the wind was blowing hard. And we lounged around camp kicking around our options. I wasn't really excited about making camp at 16,000' with conditions being so bad. I was pushing for another rest day and then one giant push to the Summit. It's a 6500' day. But you're not carrying all that crap up to camp. At the end of the day we opted to make high camp.

Evan and I packed up his tent, threw on the 50 lbs packs and made the slow and grueling hike up to high camp. The French party across the "River" was also going and I think they left about 20 mins after we did. It was a grind schlepping gear up the hill, but we finally made it about 3 hours later. The Frenchies beat us by a few minutes, but we both opted for the same "canyon" to camp in. It was pretty protected from the wind.

Another nap was involved and soon dinner. We also melted snow for the next morning. My freeze dried dinner did not win an Evan manly growl of approval. I also choked it down a bit. We made arrangement with the Frenchies when petit dejeuner would be and we set our alarms for similar times.

Day 10 - Tocllaraju summit bid

All night snow pounded the tent. We awoke to probably 3 or 4 inches of fresh on the tent. Not something I was happy about.

Our morning flows were off when compared to the Frenchies. They were off about 20 mins before us around 2 am. We then had our gumby rope snafu roping up below the glacier. Luckily, we didn't do it in as embarrassing as fashion as team Argentina did the other day. Evan and I were on the glacier around 3 in the morning, the last of the 3 teams that day (Mexican, French and USA! USA!). We could see the head lamps of the team of the other teams ahead, sometimes both teams, sometimes just one of them.

Dodging crevasses in the dark and crossing snowbridges, the wind started to relent and the blowing snow was lessening. In the windswept areas we were able to make good time, but every where else we were postholing knee deep. It was exhausting and annoying. Finally, we made the Bergschrund around sun up where team Mexico was hacking away at the glacier probably 50' up. The Frenchies were retreating and we were having similar conversations. We threw in the towel and retreated behind the French.

Since we came up in the dark, it was like a whole new mountain going down and no one could really remember which way we went. The wind blew in so much new snow we weren't able to even find our post holes from about 15 minutes earlier. We made lots of wrong turns, lots of postholing back tracking and lost of spirits being crushed by the mountain.

We finally made it back to high camp, packed up and got out of there. All the new snow made the big boulders time consuming especially with the heavy packs. My wife was watching for us at base camp, which shows just how nervous she was.

Our final dinner was that night and the mujeres from the bodega came over to take all our left over food. I appreciated that our arrerio arrived that night so we would be ready in the morning. He ate dinner with us, as did many of Emilio's friends. Some people may get upset about some of the "help" eating "their" food, but we were able to get some favors, like white gas @ 66% discount to the Valley's bodega prices. Either way, we were well fed, our cook was doing an awesome job and I'm sure the humor of our attempts at Spanish were getting old. If the guy wanted some company, what did I care?

Day 11 - Hike out

Emilio made breakfast and our arriero loaded everything up. The Mujeres from the store came over to help load the mules and take anymore last minute left overs. We were shortly on our way to Pashpa and the hike was easy. We were asked for our National Park tickets on the way out.

We had beautiful views of Huascaran and Copa and it made me happy to get the more "cultural" approach through Collon and then scenic one via Pashpa. Emilio packed more food for us, but we only took juice.

Our driver was waiting for us, which looking at the backpackers lounging in the open field doesn't seem to always be the case. We loaded up and gave Emilio his propina. We settled on 150 soles (10% of his fee) plus Evan gave him a Luci Light and we gave him our binoculars.

About an hour later we were back at Hotel Morales and they gave us back our "wing." We showered up which took some time and then hit up Creperie Patrick. Soooo good. We opted for the Lasagna this time and a dessert crepe.

Day 12 - Return to Lima

We hopped back on the double decker bus for the ride back to Lima. We were told they didn't seem to care about being overweight on the luggage going down the hill, but they obviously did since we had to pay 60 more soles.

When we arrived in Lima it was getting dark. Evan had a midnight flight and we had a flight at 5 am the next morning. We opted for the slightly more expensive cab guy right at the bus instead of going upstairs to the actual cab stand. I don't remember the total cost to the airport from Plaza Norte, but it was about 30 Soles or half of what we paid to GET TO plaza Norte.

The wife and I waited for Evan to check in and by some miracle the airline took our bags for the next day. Evan graciously offered to haul the pig (our biggest and heaviest duffel) home. It was a bit pricey, but worth it for us not to have to carry it around. In hindsight, it would have made sense to check the bag for a couple days at the bag check. I was worried since we were on a single itinerary coming back from Cuzco, but we had to collect our bags "stateside," walk past the bag check and re check into our "international" legs.

The wife and I said goodbye to Evan and we debated getting a room for another 3 hours at the airport hotel ($250) or just roughing it. We opted to "rough it." Probably not the best. In hindsight, they stopped letting domestic passengers enter past security from like midnight to 3:30am. There are no chairs to sit on other than at the food court on the "landside" of the airport. But, if we would have passed security at 11:30pm, we could have laid down on some chairs instead of the floor.

Days 13 to 19 - Cuzco

The rest of the trip was pretty relaxing. I booked a last minute stay at Tambo Del Inka in Ollyataytambo. Highlights were obviously the ruins. We rode a collectivo which we got to sit shotgun. Obviously Macchu Picchu (and macchu picchu peak). Cuy. And watching my wife shop. Well, maybe not that last one. We didn't get to zip up to Choquequirao like I wanted to, but maybe next time.