The life of a firefighter doesn’t often leave room for quiet reflection. But as I began the Inca Trail trek, surrounded by towering Andean peaks and ancient history, I realized I was embarking on more than just a physical challenge.
This was a journey of renewal—a way to close the year with purpose and welcome the next with clarity.
Day 1: Wayllabamba Camp
The trek began in Cuzco, where our group gathered early in the morning. A bus took us to the trailhead, the excitement palpable among my fellow adventurers. Stepping onto the trail, I was struck by the contrast between the bustling city and the serene wilderness.
We passed through small villages, greeted warmly by locals and curious llamas. The trail was a gradual ascent, winding through open meadows and alongside babbling streams. By the time we reached Wayllabamba Camp, the sun was setting behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the valley.
That night, as the campfire crackled, I lay in my tent reflecting on how different this felt from the chaos of firefighting. The air was crisp and clean, the quiet almost overwhelming—a far cry from the sirens and smoke back home.
Day 2: Dead Woman's Pass
The second day was infamous for its difficulty. Dead Woman’s Pass, at 4,215 meters, loomed ahead—a test of endurance and willpower. The ascent was relentless, every step a battle against altitude and fatigue. My training as a firefighter gave me strength, but even I felt the burn.
At the summit, the reward was breathtaking: sweeping views of the Andes stretching endlessly in every direction. I stood there, the wind biting at my face, feeling a sense of triumph I hadn’t experienced in years.
The descent to Pacaymayo Camp was steep but allowed for moments of reflection. That night, nestled in a valley surrounded by mountains, I thought about resilience—how both my job and this trek demanded it in different ways.
Day 3: December 31—New Year’s Eve at Wiñayhuayna Camp
The morning began with another steep climb, but by now, my body had adjusted to the trail’s demands. We crossed Runquracay Pass and passed through ancient ruins that seemed to whisper stories of the past. The lush greenery of the cloud forest surrounded us as we made our way to Wiñayhuayna Camp, perched high above the Urubamba River.
By late afternoon, we had settled into camp, and the atmosphere was festive. Trekkers from around the world shared stories, laughter, and snacks. As the clock edged toward midnight, we gathered under a canopy of stars brighter than I’d ever seen.
When the countdown began, I felt a wave of emotion—gratitude for this experience, awe at the beauty around me, and hope for the year ahead. Midnight arrived not with fireworks, but with cheers and the soft glow of headlamps—a moment of pure connection in the Andean wilderness.
Day 4: January 1—New Year’s Day at Machu Picchu
The first day of the new year began in the dark, our headlamps lighting the path as we made our way to the Sun Gate. The trail felt sacred, the jungle awakening slowly around us.
When we reached the gate, the sun began to rise, painting the horizon in hues of gold and orange. And then, like a secret unveiled, Machu Picchu appeared, shrouded in morning mist. My heart swelled as I took in the sight, the culmination of days of effort and anticipation.
Exploring the ruins, I was struck by the ingenuity of the Inca civilization. The terraces, temples, and stonework seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. Every step through the site was a reminder of the resilience and creativity of humanity.
By the time we returned to Cuzco, I was physically drained but emotionally renewed.
Final Word
The Inca Trail isn’t just a journey through history; it’s a journey inward. For me, this trek was a way to close one chapter and open another with intention and clarity.
Standing in the shadow of Machu Picchu on the first day of the year, I felt ready to tackle whatever life might throw my way—both on and off the fireline. As I sit here now, recalling the sound of the jungle at midnight and the sight of the sun rising over the Andes, I know this: there are no fireworks more dazzling than the stars, and no better way to welcome a new year than with the earth beneath your feet and adventure in your soul.
Guest post written by Charles Gross
Whether he’s hiking rugged trails, navigating new cities, or tasting local cuisine, Charles believes that travel deepens his understanding of the world and makes him a stronger, more compassionate firefighter.
