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Running the Inca Trail to Macchu Picchu qualifies as one of
those "memory of a lifetime" events. Technically an ultra because of
being one extra mile beyond a marathon, it is not something you can do on your
own -- Peru limits to 500 the number of daily tourists of all types on the Inca
trail, and all
must be sponsored by an official tour service. Only Andes Adventures (http://www.andesadventures.com/run3asum.htm)
sponsors a marathon, and while it is not as costly as more distant places like
Antarctica, it is still going to deplete the wallet a bit.
 I
The trip includes more than the marathon -- it is more than a week with all but
the first and last day at high altitude to help acclimatize to the 11,000 foot
average elevation of the marathon. We stayed in Cuzco, the ancient Incan
capital, for two days at 11,800 feet, and that included two training runs for
acclimatization. The first was a highly technical broken rock 5 miler downhill
from 12,500 feet into the very center square of Cuzco. The second was a far
easier but higher altitude downhill 8 miler that meandered through fields and
open air salt mines from about 12,800 feet down to about 9,000 feet. The rest of
the days before the marathon (and also after) were spent getting tours of Inca
ruins by very well-informed English-speaking guides, white-water rafting, and
other nifty things. This is not enough time to actually handle running easily at
this altitude, but it was enough time that altitude sickness did not strike
members of the group.
The day before the marathon included an additional 8 mile "jog" on
easy trail to a campsite where we slept in tents for an early start the next
morning. Of our 40, 1 opted out, and 10 more opted to split the run into two
days (17 miler and 10 miler) which may sound silly until you read more. But that
left only 29 of us trying to do the one-day run -- the rest had left the day
before on their first day of the two day run.
Marathon morning we arose at 3 AM for porridge (Yum!), "pancakes"
(crepe-like things wrapped around a whole banana), and coffee/tea (instant but
they provided the boiled water -- in Peru, you never use
nothing but bottled or boiled water, even just to brush your teeth). At
4:30 AM, we started a one mile hike to the access to the Inca Trail, and at 5
AM, the marathon began. By 6 AM, it had become light so the headlamps could be
switched off, and we also encountered one of the three "control gates"
through which we passed -- security points where passes are checked to enforce
the limits mentioned previously. [It is the closing of the third control gate at
1500 at the 17 mile mark that forces the marathon to start so early.) Surprise!
Our gate guard was 15 minutes late getting to work, so the entire field bunched
back together waiting for the control gate to open, and at 6:15, we were off
again. This was only 3 miles into the run, and our elevation there was down near
7,000 feet. The next four miles taught everyone humility and eliminated any
vestiges of thinking one was superhuman and fit!!!!! Just before the 7 mile
mark, we crested the pass whose English translation is "Dead Woman's
Pass" at 13,800', which is an average and unrelenting uphill grade of about
33% for the four miles, and at an altitude where oxygen was hard to come by.
There was not relief on the other side of the pass either -- the downhill 33%
grade on broken granite steps with a multi-thousand foot sheer drop off on the
right side of the 3 foot wide
trail (don't be silly, of course there are no railings or restraints to keep you
on the cliff face if you trip) caused so much severe braking to stay in control
that it was just as hard as going up, although taxing a completely different set
of muscles and jarring of joints.
 I
Over the next 20 miles, two more high passes had to be
climbed and descended and there was virtually no "easily runnable"
sections. In fact, the locals called the 2 miles between the descent from the
second pass and the start of the ascent of the third pass "Andean
level", which means the uphills and downhills were all shorter than a
half-mile, but does not mean they were ever under 10% grades, NEVER flat, and
usually still on technical broken rock or rock steps. Among our favorite ascents
was a section of trail that climbed upward at 60 degrees, on steps so narrow
that you had to choose either to jut use your toes or turn your foot sideways to
fit on the step, while envisioning falling over backwards and thousands of feet
down into the chasm. Fortunately, at this severe of grade your hands were just
as useful as your feet at grabbing steps at eye level, so you felt a little
safer than it might sound. And of course everyone fell -- five or six times was
about average, and while all finished, some had bruised heads, others twisted
ankles, I managed to survive my three falls without any injury more severe than
a pulled muscle in my biceps (where I braked with my right arm to avoid the
cliff edge on a downhill fall).
Of course, times were relatively meaningless. A rough rule of thumb was to
double your normal sea level time and then add some; it took me 10 hours and 23
minutes. (Then it did not sound so silly that a fourth of the group had opted to
chop that in half for two days of about 5 hours of running instead of doing it
all in one day.)
Nevertheless, I think all of the runners would agree with these superlatives:
This was the most scenic, most athletically challenging, and most historical of
any marathon of their lives. I know for me (this was my #213 marathon or ultra),
there is not even any previous race I can compare it too, it so far outdistanced
all of them in these aspects. It is the memory of a lifetime, and I believe most
of our group will stay in touch with each other from now on, because of our
mutual experience. I urge anyone who can afford the time and money to go do it,
and if I can finish it as a pretty unfit older guy about to have my 60th
birthday, it is doable for any marathoner who makes the mental commitment to get
it done.
 I
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