Untamed Andes

Months ago, Abby and I planned a spectacular trip to the Andes for a month of trekking and fun in Peru and Ecuador. Beautiful mountains, interesting local culture, adventures with rusty Spanish, and Incan ruins waited, but we´d also be leaving behind the comforts of home and our all too important training partners: our bikes, our teammates and our local running trails and gyms. As we are both signed up for Untamed New England, we were anxious about taking a month ¨off¨ so close to the race while everyone else is biking miles and miles, running trails, paddling rivers and racing in preparation for the summer´s biggest race. We squeezed in some 12 and 24 hour races, did a couple of century rides before leaving, and planned to trek as much as possible in the higher altitudes while away. But we worried about the lack of bikes.
Sure enough, we´ve been hiking almost every day on grades steeper than much of what we might see in northern New England, but we have yet to touch a bike for a variety of reasons. We have tentative plans to bike in Ecuador during the second half of our trip, but I´d be lying if I didn´t say I was a bit anxious about this less than ideal break in regular AR training. So, while we didn´t intend the experience to mirror an actual adventure race, we were both thrilled to find that a recent three day trek in the mountains of Peru turned out to be a far better training experience than we ever could have put together in the wilds of Philadelphia. The trek had it all: maps, gear, physical challenge, physical pain, mental challenge, mental pain, teamwork and unexpected challenges ranging from gear issues to encounters with locals. We might get the physical challenge with a long bike ride back home, and sometimes a flat tire or a dead light, but that´s about it. And so, while I still miss my bike, sometimes you just have to make the best of what you have and appreciate the experiences for what they teach you or the simple reminders they provide. After all, there´s much more to a long adventure race than miles logged in training or hours in the saddle, and these other experiences are far harder to train for. Thankfully, we had three days that pushed us in ways we never expected, but which will surely help us when we enter the wilderness of New England.


The Plan:
A four to five day trek through a set of Inca ruins only accessible by foot. Following the ruins, we would trek high into the Andes, over a 4800m saddle and down to our exit point. The entire hike would be over 120 km with packs weighing 40 or so pounds. There would be some campsites along the way, but we´d basically be unsupported. And we had a finish line as we had to be done by the fifth day to get back to Cuzco for a Sunday flight to Ecuador. No real room for error…

The Physical:
For reasons to be explained later, we didn´t reach our goal; instead of trekking for four days, 120 km and reaching our final destination, we turned back at the ruins of Choqueqirao, making our round trip 65 km over three days. And yet, compared to other multi day treks and even compared to 30+ adventure races, including last year´s Untamed, I have never been so beaten physically. On the first day, we covered over 28 km, over half of which was nothing but switchbacks, the hardest, steepest switchbacks I´ve ever seen. They were relentless, made the knees scream and legs quake, and little did we know they were absolutely destroying us for the second day. We hiked three hours into the dark (which was only 9 pm here) and collapsed into the tent as soon as we could, dropping our 40 pound packs for the day. The next day we awoke and hiked for an hour and a half more to the ruins. We were exhausted but felt that we´d catch our second wind as we always do after a break and some food at the ruins. As the morning went on, we realized it wasn´t coming, and more importantly, Abby was struggling with a chest cold that was becoming worrisome. Upon further discussion, we came to the disappointing realization that completing the full hike would not only mean potentially missing our flight to Ecuador, but it could also become dangerous if Abby´s chest got any worse.
So we decided to hike back out after a few hours in the ruins, and we turned back, dreading the return hike; to get to the ruins, the crux of the hike is a trek down and up a massive valley, the elevation well over 4,000 feet on each side…of switchbacks. Steep switchbacks of nothing but loose dust and rocks. Did I mention the switchbacks? As the day wore on I reached a level of complete and utter exhaustion I´ve never felt. I wasn´t bonking, I wasn´t looking to sleep, but my body just didn´t want to wake up. I waited for the second wind after breakfast. When it didn´t come, I waited until lunch. Then into the afternoon. Hours went by, and by the time we staggered into our second night´s site, I still hadn´t felt even a moment of energy from the moment we rolled out of the tent. A fitful night´s sleep and then we were back up again for another day. I can´t say my legs felt much better, but thankfully the energy was there. We trekked out this morning, our bodies beaten in every way. While we were disappointed that we didn´t reach the goal, we felt like we had accomplished something great while also getting some serious work in for Untamed. And while I don´t actually remember ever feeling as physically weak during Untamed last year as I did during day two, I´m sure I will draw on this next month at the lowest moments of the race.

The Psychological:
Obviously, we had to overcome the doldrums of the second day when we decided to turn back, shortening the hike, and giving up as it seemed at the time. Abby´s chest cold made the thousands of feet of elevation that much more challenging, and the last few hours of the first night left her as low as one can get without throwing in the towel. For me, I just kept sinking lower and lower over day two, knowing that we had nearly ten thousand feet of switchbacks to cover before getting to tamer trails (as Grant wrote in a blog months ago, the word ¨Untamed¨ is becoming quite popular these days, and there´s no question, I was thinking of the word often on the relentless slopes of the Andes). In both cases we had no choice but to push on when our bodies and minds wanted us to DNF. Through it all the pain pulsed in our knees, in our feet and in our torsos from the packs we had loaded for four days of unsupported high mountain travel. There´s no doubt that when I reach those low moments in New England, I will be reminding myself of this Andean trek; New England can be grueling, especially when there are no trails, but I´ll take it over the Andean switchbacks any day (Grant, wipe that devlish grin from your face…).


Team Dynamics:
The more the merrier in my opinion when it comes to adventure racing, and while I wouldn´t have minded having some of the other GOALS racers to share more of the load on this one and help keep spirits high, Abby and I got through the trek in large part because of each other. After dinner on the first night, Abby struggled and we worked together to get two hours further up the mountain to our evening´s campsite. She stood by me not only for two hours, but the entire next day when I just couldn´t get the engine going. While we won´t be racing together for the Untamed, I know ARMD is lucky to have Abby on their team for her resilience and ability to be positive, and I only hope I can lend the same assistance to Ali, Bruce and Dan when it comes time to race.

The switchbacks; the photo really doesn´t do it justice, but you can see some of the cuts on the distant side of the valley

The Unexpected:
As with any adventure race, we had our share of unexpected issues. The first was the simple fact that the route looked more doable than it turned out to be. When it came time to reassess, it was a difficult decision to change plans and routes, but we worked out the options and came to what, in retrospect, is clear was the right decision. A lot can happen over three days of wilderness travel, and the first day alone revealed some ugly truths about the trail and environment that hadn´t been apparent from the comforts of our hostel. Sure, there was disappointment, but we made the right decision, both in regards to safety and health but also for the overall enjoyment of the experience. We got to complete something and feel good about what we accomplished…I have fond memories of last year´s Untamed, but we also made some mistakes along the way which cost us not only a stellar finish, but a finish period. Hopefully we´ll have a better outcome this year.
There were also the issues with gear: Abby´s pack ripped less than an hour into the trek. More significant, we entered the trek with a new stove; I made a tin can stove at home, designed to burn with denatured alcohol or other forms of fuel. Back in Philly, I tested it and was satisfied with my new ultralight solution to cooking. Alas, the fuel we were sold here in Cuzco was not what we expected. Bencina, as the outfitter called it, is not designed for open can stoves. We discovered this on the first night when we stopped for dinner. When the locals at the campground offered us fire from their oven, the stove nearly exploded in a burst of flame, fire blowing angrily in the wind. We managed to avoid disaster, but the Benicina burned too strong and too quickly to use for cooking in such a stove. There went our hot meals for the rest of the trek and we had no way to prep the pasta and quinoa we were relying on…
And as often happens, there was the shady encounter with the locals. On the first night (while trying to manage flaming stoves, water purification…another adventure everyone will hopefully manage well in New England…and what food to eat for the night, all under the rapidly darkening and chilling Andean night) an older man rolled into the site. He cornered me, offering me a drink, which I wanted to turn down more than anything. After sniffing the drink and inquiring into its safety, I took the slightest sip and gagged a bit, convinced it would be a matter of hours before my stomach would turn completely against me with some fast-acting parasite, or perhaps I would begin hallucinating from the potent alcoholic catalyst likely brewed in some back mountain gin. Hopefully in New England, close encounters will be avoided with the cover of night, the speed of my bike or by the simple fact that I won´t be worrying about be culturally insensitive if I insist on declining drinks and food from locals…

The Conclusion:

When it comes down to it, my bike legs might not be quite as strong as I´d like come mid-August, but experiences like these are what will help me get through the long days and nights in New England. After experiencing a month of the untamed mountains in the Andes, I think I´m going to be ready for Untamed New England. At least for the switchbacks.