Cordillera Blanca - The Santa Cruz Trek

The Cordillera Blanca in Peru is touted as the highest mountain range in the world outside of the Himalayas, and with 18 peaks over 6,000 meters it is not too hard to see why.  The most popular trek through these mountains is the Santa Cruz trek, which is a short three night excursion up and over the pass Punta Union; of which we had set our sights.  The gateway to this hike is the town of Huaraz, a mere 8 hour bus ride from Lima.  We caught an overnight Cama bus (where the seats recline to almost become beds!), and after such journey we arrived moderately rested in Huaraz.  Fortunately, we were able to check into our hostel at 8 am and promptly take a nap. 

Properly rested we decided to take on the bustling streets of Huaraz.  The first order of business was to get permits for the Parque Nacional Huascaron and to see if we could get away without hiring a guide.  The trek did not seem to be very difficult with the trail being well marked and traveled and we were confident that we would have no trouble navigating the route.  At the national park office we asked about buying permits and got a short speech about how guides are required, but since it was the off season he was going to let it slide.  Success! We didn't even have to argue! Permits in hand, we found a rough map of the trek, purchased food and fuel, and we were ready. 

Before we could begin our trek we first had to get to the trailhead, which was in the small hamlet of Cashapampa.  Arriving in Cashapampa was a two step affair.  We first had to catch a combi (a van used as public transport) to Caraz and from there catch a colectivo (a smaller, shared taxi) to Cashapampa.  Fifteen minutes of wandering around Huaraz yielded a combi to Caraz and we were on our way.  In Caraz we followed our map to the colectivo pick up location only to find a dirt lot with a few taxis.  We didn't really want to spend three times as much on a taxi, so we milled about trying to figure out what to do.  An old Ford Taurus wagon rolled up and the guy said he was a colectivo and would take us to Cashapampa.  This was a far shot from the cushy van we were hoping for, but we agreed.  The driver ended up recruiting four other people (one with a two year old) and four 50 kg bags of feed to make the journey, too.  The back set was surprisingly comfortable with four adults and one two-year-old and we only bottomed out a couple of times on the windy dirt road up to the trailhead. 

Colectivo Caraz->Cashapampa

Santa Cruz trailhead and valley

The trail started up behind a farm, passed by a covered alter where we had to show our permits and register, and then dove into an enticing narrow canyon Kate had spotted from the car.  The bottom of the canyon rose up quickly and the trail along with it.  As we walked we encountered intermittent rain showers and constant signs that the trail was frequently used by cows, donkeys, and horses, but in four hours we saw only three ranchers and zero trekkers!

The trail was also used by DonkeyCows such as this one

Eventually the path leveled out and the canyon widened slightly.  We got closer to the Santa Cruz river and could see its tumbling water overflowing its banks.

Santa Cruz River a la rainy season

High waters of the Santa Cruz river

Two horses and a young colt were there to welcome us as we arrived at Llamacoral, the pasture that was to be our first campsite.  There were some rudimentary buildings and a stone outhouse that was no longer functional (i.e. full).  We set up the tent in a relatively manure-free zone and took shelter from the rain.  A group of four hikers and three guides arrived a little later with an REI tent!  It looked like either a Kingdome or a Hobitat 4, but we didn't get to ask about it because we were all seeking shelter from the rain.

As soon as the sun set Kate and I went to sleep.  I was awoken what seemed like hours later by Kate hitting me and whispering "I think there is something outside the tent!".  Of all the times I have been woken up to that phrase I think this was the first time it was actually true, and I could hear a noise on the rainfly. (Kate would like that "all the times" Jeff mentions here probably only amount to a handful, and all those in bear country!) We shook the tent and heard the startled but playful departing clomp of hooves, but moments later the licking of the rainfly resumed.  Kate shook the tent harder and yelled, and this time the young horse seemed to get the idea and ran off for good. 

The rain abated during the night and we awoke relatively early the next day with the plan to get most of our hiking finished before it resumed in the afternoon.  We packed up with the assistance of a friendly pack animal and were on our way just after 9 am.

Jeff and Friend

We followed the trail along the flat valley floor, through pastures with various grazing mammals and the constant presence of the cloud ceiling above.  There was one tricky part where we had to navigate a boulder field where the river pushed us up onto the steeper hillside.  Just after 1 pm we reached our intended campsite, in yet another pasture.  As we were scoping out the best poop-free and dry patch of grass to place our tent the guides from the other group arrived.  Through our rough comprehension of Spanish and his rough English we gathered that they were going to go up and over the pass today, perhaps because of some rain.  We decided that even if it did rain all of the next day we weren't in a rush to complete our trek and wanted to enjoy a relaxing afternoon in our chosen pasture.  We were reaffirmed in our decision a couple hours later when some of the lower clouds began to break up and we were finally able to glimpse several of the snow capped peaks we had been seeking.

Campspot at Taulliraju

The summit of Taulliraju (5830m) makes an appearance

Something outside the tent

As darkness fell so did the rain.  Cozy in our sleeping bags, we fell asleep to the rhythmic pattering on our tent.  It rained all throughout the night, and I was wondering if this was what the guide was talking about; would the rain continue all day for our hike up and over the pass?  As the sky lightened at 6 am, the rain decided its work was done.  Thankful for the timely dryness, we emerged from our shelter and packed up for the days journey.  The clouds were still hovering above the valley and we took our time climbing up the wet trail to Punta Union at a lofty 4,750 m (15,438 ft.), the icy slopes of Taulliraju in our sight for much of the way.

On the way up to Punta Union pass

Pucajirca (6050m) looms behind the west ridge of Taulliraju

Kate's lucky star was smiling on us though, and as we reached the pass the clouds began to give way and the sun shined down.  We lounged at the pass for an hour and a half soaking in the sun instead of the rain.

Notchyo ordinary pass

Jeff at Punta Union

 Lago Taullicocha (?)

Eventually, we decided it was time to get moving and we began our descent just in time for it to start sprinkling again.  The 1,000 m we had to go down seemed to drag on after such a great time at the pass, and we were hurried along for the last 200 m by an impressive thunderstorm above us.

The start of the descent from Punta Union

Our route down the other side

Once again we found ourselves setting up camp in a pasture in the rain, but it was worth it for the spectacular day we had.

For our final day we still had to hike out 8 km (5 mi.) to the town of Vaqueria where we would wait to catch a combi (another public transit van) to the town of Yungay, and then another back to Huaraz.  Wanting to get back to civilization quickly we awoke early and skipped a hot breakfast in order to be on the trail by 7:15.  The first hour of our hike took us down through more wet pastures until we reached the edge of the  national park.

Day 4 trail out in the Hauripampa valley

We checked out at the park office and were soon among the high Andean villages.  Some of these villages were originally settled by people hundreds of years ago, and most of them still speak the Quechua language.  The first villages we came to were not accessible by car and we marveled at the people who lived up there.

Huaripampa village

After a couple wrong turns and some helpful locals we arrived in Vaqueria.  All I had heard about Vaqueria was that the Santa Cruz trek started or ended there and, so I had expected it to be a small village with a commercial zone from which to catch a ride.  In actuality, Vaqueria consists of around ten to fifteen houses built up the mountainside along the switchbacks of the dirt road from Yanama to Yungay.  At the top of the town there was an outside waiting area with wooden benches and a small snack and beverage hut.  The convenience stand was run by a mother of two small girls who was kept busy watching them, the stand, and doing laundry in the near by sink.  We asked about transit to Yungay and were told that the next combi would arrive at noon, and so we got comfortable for our upcoming hour and a half wait. 

Not long after we arrived the the other guided group of trekkers appeared also waiting for a combi.  Sometime after noon the first combi heading to Yungay rolled by, but was full.  This got one of the guides on the phone with what I assume were some drivers in Yanama telling them that there were nine people waiting and willing to pay for rides to Yungay.  We kept hearing that transit would arrive shortly, but each combi that passed was full and elicited another phone call. 

Our waiting spot in Vaqueria

At 1 pm the mother who was watching the convenience stand emerged from her house with three bowls of potatoes and a hard boiled egg for the three guides.  I must have been staring wide eyed because she offered me one for a mere three soles ($1) and I quickly took her up on it.  Kate and I shared the bowl and its necessary effects to stave off our growing hunger. 

Finally, at 2 pm a combi arrived that could squeeze in our large group.  Kate and I ended up squished with two other people in the back row (one of them didn't even have a seat) with our large backpacks on our laps.  The whole van was crammed with people and no one was comfortable for the three hour ride on the bumpy dirt road to Yungay.  I was thankful that even in the absence of seat belts the van was equipped with burly looking roll bars that were thoughtfully zip tied with foam padding, which prevented numerous possible concussions.

To say we were grateful to arrive in Yungay would be an understatement, and we were certainly not excited by the thought of having go cram into another combi to get to Huaraz, but we did so anyway.  At least this time we only had to endure one hour, and we were on paved roads with our backpacks not on our laps.  In order to celebrate our successful return we enjoyed not-cold showers at our hostel and went out for some pizza and delicious Sierra Andina beer.