Colca Canyon
Went to Colca Canyon to do some hiking in the deepest canyon in the world. The scenery traveling there was stunning, the red luna landscape contrasting with the cloudless blue sky. I passed terracota crags where frozen water arced against the cliffs. Elsewhere in a flat landscape, with nothing higher than a blade of glass someone had balanced little rocks in towers for hundreds of meters . It was the lack of variety that stunned me; nothing but rock and sand uniformly extending in every direction. I found this slightly unnerving.
Stayed at a tiny tumbled down village with roofless mud walled homes. I was the only guest in a hostel still under construction, it also lacked a roof. Took a hike up an open book valley. Vast rolling hills captured between multicoloured volcanic mountains. Great cascades of white, red, orange and green sand tumbling down their faces, the sun changing the hues as it traversed the valley. The emptiness, the fenceless expanse. I looked up and saw a condor floating down the valley. At the foot of the mountains geysers constantly blasted boiling water in huge plumes. While a field of small holes bubbled and hissed like hundreds of demented kettles. The sun fell behind the mountains, a biting wind quickly arose. I had not taken a map. I like the freedom and adventure of not knowing what is over the next rise. I picked up the pace, constantly scanning the foreground for possible pathways. Pushed through thorny scrub, boulder fields, following a pathless bearing on a distant mountain. Finally I spotted a reassuring footprint and another. It was still another hour of walking with my hands wedged deep into my pockets. I was glad to get back. Unfortunately there was no hot food to be found, so I tucked into a chocolate bar sandwich while hiding under the covers, as the wind shook and whistled through the window frames. I was surprisingly woken at 4:30am by blaring tanoy system broadcasting the news across this tiny hamlet.
I took an early hike along the canyon edge watching the early mist, up and down gorges, terraced fields, flowering cacti. Sat on a dry stone wall watched tour buses zoom by in clouds of dust, disturbing the silence of the cattle gently bathing below. I could flick a cigarette end into the 1200m void beneth me, out of vision it rose above another 2km in a curtain of imposing peaks. The immensity was impossible to photograph. I could see the silver thread of the river below me in birds eye view. The low sun, hazing everything into soft focus and casting it in violet hues. Condors in black silhouette, floated up from the depths, pivoted on hidden thermals before gracefully slipping into the distance.
Stayed at a tiny tumbled down village with roofless mud walled homes. I was the only guest in a hostel still under construction, it also lacked a roof. Took a hike up an open book valley. Vast rolling hills captured between multicoloured volcanic mountains. Great cascades of white, red, orange and green sand tumbling down their faces, the sun changing the hues as it traversed the valley. The emptiness, the fenceless expanse. I looked up and saw a condor floating down the valley. At the foot of the mountains geysers constantly blasted boiling water in huge plumes. While a field of small holes bubbled and hissed like hundreds of demented kettles. The sun fell behind the mountains, a biting wind quickly arose. I had not taken a map. I like the freedom and adventure of not knowing what is over the next rise. I picked up the pace, constantly scanning the foreground for possible pathways. Pushed through thorny scrub, boulder fields, following a pathless bearing on a distant mountain. Finally I spotted a reassuring footprint and another. It was still another hour of walking with my hands wedged deep into my pockets. I was glad to get back. Unfortunately there was no hot food to be found, so I tucked into a chocolate bar sandwich while hiding under the covers, as the wind shook and whistled through the window frames. I was surprisingly woken at 4:30am by blaring tanoy system broadcasting the news across this tiny hamlet.
I took an early hike along the canyon edge watching the early mist, up and down gorges, terraced fields, flowering cacti. Sat on a dry stone wall watched tour buses zoom by in clouds of dust, disturbing the silence of the cattle gently bathing below. I could flick a cigarette end into the 1200m void beneth me, out of vision it rose above another 2km in a curtain of imposing peaks. The immensity was impossible to photograph. I could see the silver thread of the river below me in birds eye view. The low sun, hazing everything into soft focus and casting it in violet hues. Condors in black silhouette, floated up from the depths, pivoted on hidden thermals before gracefully slipping into the distance.
posted by Richard at
9:47 pm
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