By Mary Mancera

Mind Over Matter: Our Adventure On The Inca Trail

"OMFG! I can't catch my breath."

Twenty minutes into our hike on the Inca Trail, Nancy - our JUGS (Just Us Girls) mate and travel companion - was gasping for air and pleading with our guide Ernesto for a hit of oxygen.

Not a good sign for the first quarter mile of a 10-mile hike.

"Take a deep breath and exhale slowly ...three times," Ernesto told Nancy. In all his years as a Andean guide, Ernesto has never had to administer oxygen to one of his clients even though he is required to carry a tank just in case. He didn't want to break his perfect record. The hell with that, said Maggie, Nancy's partner, who rushed to her rescue with a can of oxygen she had bought in Cusco. It's all "mental" insisted the ever calm and wise Ernesto.

"Tell that to my frickin' body," Nancy replied.

Truth be told the first hour of our hike on the Inca Trail had us all wondering what we had gotten ourselves into. The sun was intense. We were already drenched with sweat and breathing hard. It was warmer than we expected. We had too much gear on.

Up the trail from Nancy, I was having my own issues with the narrow ledges.
Ledges. Did Ernesto say the ledges would be like this? I couldn't remember. But I'm uncomfortable with heights and not only is the path high and narrow, but there's all kinds of stone stairways around nearly every bend. Try climbing a narrow stone stairway without looking over the edge. It's not easy.

"Don't look down," I told Yamila, who is right behind me and just as afraid of heights. We both had Vertigo meltdowns on one of our hikes in Zion last May and almost couldn't finish the trail. Ledges. There were steep ledges everywhere.

What's the elevation here? I asked Ernest more than once. He thought I was fishing for facts about the trail when I really just wanted to justify my rational discomfort with the drop from the ledge.

Whose fricking idea was it to do this hike anyway?

We could've been riding on the train to Machu Picchu in comfort, sipping on Coca leaf tea and snapping photos. Anyone who knows Yamila and I would say that's our usual style. Throw in some fine dining, a great bottle of wine and some shopping and you have our M-O for a great vacation. So where does the intrepid adventure stuff come from?

Chalk it up to irrational exuberance after our hiking trip to Zion last May. We all (JUGS Encinitas) felt so invigorated by our still youthful middle-age ability to conquer Angel's Landing, The Narrows and Inspiration Point -- all formidable hikes at Zion. What could be tougher? So Yamila & I, Donna Marie, Bincy, Maggie and Nancy high-fived the idea of the Inca Trail over a bottle of wine and said "let's do it." Months later, here we are on a ledge.

According to our guide Ernesto, the stretch of the Inca Trail we were walking is the "easiest" stage of the hike. The whole trail takes four days to do. Easy? My ass. Tell that to my aching quads.

But after a few hours, I discerned that Ernesto lies.

He lies about distance. He lies about the number of steps on the trail. And he lies about the damn ledges. Probably some strategic psychology to urge his victims on.

But what Ernesto doesn't lie about is Inca history. He knows his stuff. At at every ruin or milestone on the trail, he would regale us with stories about the progressive Incan culture. We welcomed the history lessons mainly because it gave us a chance to catch our breath and wipe the sweat from our brows. I listened as much as I could. It distracted me from the river of sweat trailing down my back. How did the Incans do it? They must've been in great shape.

The whole inspiration for taking on this physical challenge was to experience entering the Sanctuary of Machu Picchu through the Sun Gate at the top of the mountain. We wanted the privilege to stand at that peak and witness one of the great wonders of the world. And what a sight it was. Worth every drop of sweat. Every private doubt. Every sore muscle.

Sixty-two thousand steps. 10.6 miles. 8.6 hours of movement. 938 calories. The metrics of our day on the Inca Trail will be fodder for many wine-fueled discourses in the months to come.

I believe that intrepid adventurers like us take on physical challenges like this to prove something to themselves. To experience something unique and out of the ordinary. And to be reminded by the sheer majesty of the scenery that there is something out there bigger than us. The church of Mother Nature does that.

These adventures somehow allow us to squeeze more out of life.

It's not about the years in your life, but the life in your years. How much you embrace what you are given.

Whatever it was that brought Yamila & I, Nancy, Maggie, Bincy, Donna Marie, Hardy and Victor together to this magical place on earth, it's a journey we won't soon forget. The mere act of stepping out of our comfort zone will make the memory sweeter.

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