Kuelap, Peru

On the third day, we rose. Our bedridden bodies were finally mobile beyond the bed-to-bathroom route that we had worn into the concrete floor at the hospedaje. Luckily, the first 16 km of the day was on a smooth, switchbacking asphalt that wound its way back to the bottom of the valley where the route continued upstream. When time came to pedal, the legs that propelled my bicycle felt like a pair of disfunctional pistons. I would have returned them if I still had the receipt. A few dreary hours later, we found ourselves at the base of the acclaimed rival of Machu Picchu, soon to be asserted by our resident architect and geologist.

The ruins of Kuelap sit atop a rock outcrop that hovers 1200 meters above Tingo, the town where we began the day. In our relentless pursuit of the road less traveled, we opted to walk the 15 km trail rather than hitch the 37 km road, a decision that retained our independence but drained our energy. Four hours and three packages of animal crackers later, we armed ourselves for the raid on the long-deserted fort. After reviewing our battle strategy, we donned our ninja gear and stormed the ruins with carnivorous hunger, breeching the tight perimeter of the mighty Kuelap with grace and fluidity. In other words, we crawled our way into the ticket office, paid 7 soles, and hobbled up the retrofitted steel stairs. But we still felt like warriors in our ninja gear.

We wandered the fortress for the entire afternoon, forgetting our hunger and thirst as we gawked at our relative solitude; the ghosts of the Chachapoyans were the only other occupants. As the light faded, so did the aparitions, and our supposed rest-day came to an exhausting but impressing end.