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It’s the Journey, Not the Destination

  • Writer: Virginia Gaston '27
    Virginia Gaston '27
  • Nov 11, 2024
  • 5 min read

“It’s the journey, not the destination.” These words from my sherpa Jaime echoed through my mind as I began my four-day, three-night trek to Machu Picchu. After eighteen hours of flying and a two hour bus ride from Cusco at 5am, my dad and I stepped foot on the Inca Trail. 

At sixteen years old, few would write “Hike Machu Picchu” on their bucket lists. Even fewer would dare to go on such an arduous trek without proper training. However, when asked how my dad and I wanted to spend our 50th and 16th birthdays, we found ourselves signing up to be one of the 500 allowed on the Inca Trail per day.

Beginning the hike, we handed off our belongings to the porters. For just my dad and I, eight porters were needed to carry supplies to each campsite. Each one carried loads close to 80 pounds and ran up the hills to reach and set up camp long before we arrived.



"Beginning the hike"


Out of breath after the first hill, my dad and I began to worry about our capabilities, but our drive and desire to finish outweighed our concerns. While the first day was only eight miles, the hills and altitude proved to be challenging. Simply walking up the hills left us gasping for air as one might after a difficult run. 

After three hours of hiking, we reached our first Inca ruin site. While it was not large, my dad and I remained in awe. Sitting down with Jaime, he told us the importance of coca leaves, which each porter carries with him in a clear bag. We watched as he placed a leaf onto the ground: an offering to the holy mountains for prosperity, health and goodness. 


"Jaime placed a leaf onto the ground: an offering to the holy mountains"

After stopping for lunch, we continued hiking for four more hours before we reached our first campsite. As we watched others turn around, unable to complete the hike, our nerves began to resurface. Thinking back to all my friends and family who questioned my ability to complete the hike, I prayed not to prove them right. 

At 5pm, we met with Jaime for tea time. Drinking coca tea and hot chocolate, we listened carefully as Jaime explained the value of slowing down. Never having done tea time before, my dad and I realized the need to stop and rest. In our daily lives we rarely took time to decompress because of constant responsibilities and duties. 


"Never having experienced tea time, I learned the importance of slowing down"


Since it was already dark by six, we headed to bed. The 5am wake up call came early after a sleepless night plagued by the barking of wild dogs and crowing of roosters. Warned of the difficulty of the day ahead, we packed up and left immediately after breakfast. 

For five hours we hiked uphill, leaving behind the last signs of civilization. We faced a new view whenever we turned around. One that we had to stop and process because it was hard to believe our surroundings were real. 

After finally reaching the peak of Dead Woman's Pass, the highest point on the Inca Trail, my dad and I were rewarded with not only a breathtaking view, but the accomplishment of hiking an elevation over 14,000 feet, a goal that most avid hikers aspire to reach as the air thins to a level that some may need supplemental oxygen. 


"Dead Woman's Pass rewarded us with breathtaking views"


By lunch, we reached our campsite for the night. Since we finished so early, we decided to embark on day three early. As we hiked, we stopped at three Inca sites and at each Jaime filled us with new knowledge about life in 1500 AD Peru. Jaime, who is of Incan descent, gave us an accurate description of all sites and views. 

After three and a half more hours of hiking, we reached our new campsite for night two. Exhausted from the long day, we hit the bed directly after tea time. Since we had hiked extra, our wakeup call was pushed back to 6am. 

A combination of llamas sniffing the tent and my dad’s snoring led to a night with little sleep once again. In the morning, we were given a true introduction to each of our porters, all of whom were local farmers in the mountains: Sefriano, Richard, Neo, Sixto, Cypriano, Damian, Esteban and Alejandro. 

Jaime translated their Spanish and our English so we could learn more about each other and create greater connection. Jaime called us one large “family,” a statement that felt more true each day.


"My 'family' for the duration of the hike"




"One of the many llamas gathered around our campsite"


Our third day was spent hiking through the Cloud Forest in the High Jungle. We stopped and looked at all of the new ecosystems and surroundings. Ahead of other groups by miles, we had ample time to take it all in.

Most of the day was spent hiking down incredibly steep stone stairs built by the Incas into the sides of the mountains centuries ago. Trying not to be unnerved by  the deadly drop that awaited if one wrong step was taken, we made our way slowly down, across, and over three mountain ranges. 


"Most of the day was spent hiking down incredibly steep stone stairs built by the Incas centuries ago"

After a long third day, we emerged from the jungle to see two incredible Incan cities. Our minds blown and filled with awe, we stood in awe of the sites in front of us. Spending an hour exploring the cities alone, our choice of hiking longer than the others on day two felt worth it. 

On the last day, wake up call came at 3:30am. After all we had accomplished, the two-hour hike in the dark felt like nothing. Finishing the Inca Trail, we reached the Sun Gate to Machu Picchu, a site only hikers can see. The view that laid ahead was completely breathtaking. 

After an afternoon exploring Machu Picchu, we boarded a train back to Cusco. Looking back, the Inca Trail changed my life. I learned things that cannot begin to be explained in a textbook and I saw things that I previously considered unimaginable. Most importantly, however, I learned about my capabilities. I learned that believing in yourself is more important than if others do. 

While seeing Machu Picchu was mind-blowing and a rewarding finish, it had no comparison to the days I spent getting there. On the trail and in life: It’s the journey that counts, not the destination. 







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