After completion of the C. Huayhuash hike and some R&R in Huaraz I started the traverse of the Cordillera Blanca. This hike is the brainchild of Cam Hogan (The Hiking Life) who completed it in 2014, I think. Around 2024 Cam published a set of waypoints on his blog and since then a few trip reports have been published. I should mention at this point already, and I will go into more detail at the appropriate time, that in the intervening years one pass that involves glacier travel has undergone dramatic change owing to ice retreating/melting away. Cam’s waypoints can no longer be followed by a hiker. If you are an ice climber, maybe you can, but a hiker with trail runners cannot.
I will write this up in two sections, Part 1 covering essentially the Alpamayo circuit or, if you will, the part of the CBT that overlaps with the Alpamayo circuit. Part 2 will cover the central portion of the hike. I will provide a write-up on the the stretch between L. Shallap and Pastoruri glacier at a later date.
Huayllapa to Hwy 107 (Part 1)
I took a collectivo from Huaraz to Carhuaz to the North, figured out where to board the collectivo to Cashapampa next morning and stayed in a hostel overnight. The collectivo left at 6:20 AM and dropped me off at Cashapampa after a roughly 90 min drive. You get very close to your fellow travelers in a collectivo, but you can’t beat the price and buses do not run this route. From Cashapampa I followed the road to Conay. At the first house on the right I found the entrance to a trail. It looks like a driveway, but it is the trail. I contoured for a while, descended steeply and eventually crossed the river below by way of a bridge and then followed the road in direction of Hualcayan. A campesino waived me past his property when things got a bit confusing, which helped. You cross some pastures and a creek and again end up on a road that climbs up to Hualcayan. This is an area of intense agricultural activity, mostly subsistence farming, but some cash crops are also grown, specifically strawberries and eucalyptus for fire and construction lumber. The fields are generally terraced and small, so you see plowing being done with oxen, grain being harvested by scythe, and pigs being butchered by the side of the road.
I camped in a eucalyptus forest near the soccer field of Hualcayan town and next morning climbed up on an old 4x4 road to the the campsite at Huishcash. I was not feeling quite right and over the next few days I would suffer a full-blown case of Atahualpa’s revenge, likely from a prepared lunch I had eaten in Chiquian after completion of the C. Huayhuash hike.
I will write this up in two sections, Part 1 covering essentially the Alpamayo circuit or, if you will, the part of the CBT that overlaps with the Alpamayo circuit. Part 2 will cover the central portion of the hike. I will provide a write-up on the the stretch between L. Shallap and Pastoruri glacier at a later date.
Huayllapa to Hwy 107 (Part 1)
I took a collectivo from Huaraz to Carhuaz to the North, figured out where to board the collectivo to Cashapampa next morning and stayed in a hostel overnight. The collectivo left at 6:20 AM and dropped me off at Cashapampa after a roughly 90 min drive. You get very close to your fellow travelers in a collectivo, but you can’t beat the price and buses do not run this route. From Cashapampa I followed the road to Conay. At the first house on the right I found the entrance to a trail. It looks like a driveway, but it is the trail. I contoured for a while, descended steeply and eventually crossed the river below by way of a bridge and then followed the road in direction of Hualcayan. A campesino waived me past his property when things got a bit confusing, which helped. You cross some pastures and a creek and again end up on a road that climbs up to Hualcayan. This is an area of intense agricultural activity, mostly subsistence farming, but some cash crops are also grown, specifically strawberries and eucalyptus for fire and construction lumber. The fields are generally terraced and small, so you see plowing being done with oxen, grain being harvested by scythe, and pigs being butchered by the side of the road.
I camped in a eucalyptus forest near the soccer field of Hualcayan town and next morning climbed up on an old 4x4 road to the the campsite at Huishcash. I was not feeling quite right and over the next few days I would suffer a full-blown case of Atahualpa’s revenge, likely from a prepared lunch I had eaten in Chiquian after completion of the C. Huayhuash hike.
Atahualpa was the last Incan emperor. He was killed by the Spanish conquistadors when the Incan empire was unable to cover Atahualpa’s body entirely with gold. I am not saying that the conquistadors would not have found another reason to kill him.
Immodium was not capable of dealing with this and a 24 hr course of azithromycin was required. The entire ordeal took five days and I was significantly weakened at the end of it. I heartily recommend azithromycin for dealing with diarrhea in foreign lands. It has now saved my bacon twice, in Peru and Egypt. Cheap and effective.
Next day I climbed up to L. Cullicocha, crossed its outlet dam and made my way to Osoruri pass (4950 m) and from there on convoluted but clear trail to Osoruri camp. This early section of the CBT is coincident with the Alpamayo trek, one of three standard tracking routes in Ancash province. Fortunately, it is much less traveled than the C. Huayhuash or the Santa Cruz trek are. Until shortly before Osoruri camp I only saw one group, a family of three with their guide, assistant guide and arriero, otherwise splendid solitude.
Next day I continued on to the Jancarurish camp at near the base of Alpamayo, the iconic peak of the eponymous trek. Movie buffs will be familiar with this peak as, supposedly, the peak shown in opening moments of movies of the Paramount studio show a mountain that either is Alpamayo or is modeled on it. It had been an overcast or partially sunny afternoon, but just in time for alpenglow the skies opened and afforded a view.
Immodium was not capable of dealing with this and a 24 hr course of azithromycin was required. The entire ordeal took five days and I was significantly weakened at the end of it. I heartily recommend azithromycin for dealing with diarrhea in foreign lands. It has now saved my bacon twice, in Peru and Egypt. Cheap and effective.
Next day I climbed up to L. Cullicocha, crossed its outlet dam and made my way to Osoruri pass (4950 m) and from there on convoluted but clear trail to Osoruri camp. This early section of the CBT is coincident with the Alpamayo trek, one of three standard tracking routes in Ancash province. Fortunately, it is much less traveled than the C. Huayhuash or the Santa Cruz trek are. Until shortly before Osoruri camp I only saw one group, a family of three with their guide, assistant guide and arriero, otherwise splendid solitude.
Next day I continued on to the Jancarurish camp at near the base of Alpamayo, the iconic peak of the eponymous trek. Movie buffs will be familiar with this peak as, supposedly, the peak shown in opening moments of movies of the Paramount studio show a mountain that either is Alpamayo or is modeled on it. It had been an overcast or partially sunny afternoon, but just in time for alpenglow the skies opened and afforded a view.
Alpamayo Peak
Next morning, bright and early, I headed in direction of Gara Gara pass (5050 m) which is a beast. There is a narrow use trail that runs up the hillside on climber’s left through the typical Peruvian grass that obscures the trail as it grows in the form of tussocks. You have to watch it like a hawk in order not to loose the trail as I managed to do. I had to climb a rather steep grassy moraine until the slope mellowed out and I found the trail again. Along the way I had a fantastic view of Alpamayo and the laguna at its base. I loved how the features got more distinct as the morning progressed
View of Alpamayo with Laguna Jancarurish at its base
View of Alpamayo and L. Jancarurish (rear) from bowl below Gara Gara Pass
Eventually you enter a giant bowl below the pass that is wall to wall scree and talus, but a distinct trail runs through it so the walking is straightforward. You see the pass ahead of you, high above and then you make your way up to it on a scree slope that does not seem to want to end. But putting one foot ahead of the other will you get there. Alas, by this point Alpamayo has disappeared from view. You get a great view of the glacial valley on the other side which you’ll be passing through for the next couple of hours. The bottom of the valley is swampy, so the trail takes you above the bottom in a wide arc on the left side to a creek crossing and then up the right side of the valley to a pass (Mesopata, 4450 m) into the next valley over.
View from Gara Gara Pass to the Northeast in general direction of Mesopata Pass
The descent from Mesopata is reasonably straightforward at the top with decent trail which eventually fades. Walking on grassy slopes at the bottom of this next valley you end up on a dirt road next to a river heading NW. I camped there next to the water without any human in sight.
Next morning I continued on, crossing the river on some sketchy bridge-like objects and making my way in a Southeasterly direction past a rather substantial sheep farm and impressive piles of sheep shit. You climb a fairly narrow valley that about halfway up has a fairly substantive boggy area. You would do best to avoid it as much as possible. Being on the right side of the valley (climber’s right) is the way to go. Ahead of you, high up you see the Yanacon pass ( 4600 m) and there is just no indication on how you get up there. As the terrain gets steep cairns appear that lead you to a trail on the left side of the valley (climber’s left) and that will lead you to the pass without problem. It’s just damn steep!
Ascent to Yanacon Pass
View from Yanacon Pass of stratified rock below Pucajirca Norte (6046 m)
Look back at Yanacon Pass from the South. Notice the stratification of the rock at right angles to that in the picture above.
The pass is in fact bisected by a significant rocky berm and you should cross the pass to the left of the rocks. The entry to the trail leading down the other side is very far on the left. There are foot traces also going down on the right side of the berm, but it’s nasty and not recommended. The better trail winds its way through fields of lupins down onto a large pampa. You have to cross a creek at a spot where two branches of the creek meet. The creek is deeply cut into the terrain and that’s the best spot. On the other side the pampa continues and here it is rather boggy.
View of L. Sactaycocha from descent from Yanacon Pass
On the standard maps (Gaia GPS and Caltopo) three trails are shown on which one may continue. The middle one is labeled as “Alpamayo circuit” and Cam’s waypoints also indicate that he followed it. You should NOT follow this! There has been a fire and it has become a serious bushwhack. Yours truly could not resist, but to his regret. The most straightforward way is to take the path that runs past Laguna Sactaycocha. After struggling with the non-existent middle path I made my way to the right path and it does indeed exist, but it can be difficult to distinguish the human trail from the plethora of bovine trails. If you have a good intuition on how somebody would put in a trail, you can manage to stay on it most of the time, but keep an open mind that you may have wandered off.
Eventually you come to a steep descent on trail that is narrow but used by donkey teams, so it’s distinct. At the bottom the trail initially runs above the right bank of the creek in the valley bottom, crosses this creek eventually and then runs on the left bank all the way to the pampa to the of the small hamlet of Jancacucho. There is a nice campsite there in an abandoned corral, some 50 m above a creek and sheltered from view and wind. The Pucojirca peaks, all above 6000 m, loom above the valley to your right.
You make your way to the the town first on the left-hand side of the valley, right at the margin of the pampa. It’s swampy in places but it goes. Eventually you are forced to cross the pampa and lo’ and behold there are bridges over all the drainage ditches until you reach the road that runs on the right-hand side of the valley by the houses.
The map on Gaia GPS has you leave the road by climbing on a narrow and steep trail to the right. There were fields and a garden there and given my lack of Spanish language skills I wanted to avoid any interaction with humans who might object to my stomping through those. So I pushed up the hill off-trail, walked through an eucalyptus plantation and crossed a gorge on the left on a sketchy use trail, all of this more or less following the path of least resistance (relatively speaking). Eventually I came upon a road and followed it to the West through a settlement and then into the countryside. The path turned South and just climbed straight up the hill. This was day 5 of my intestinal distress episode and I was in no shape to hike, either physically or mentally. I dragged my sorry butt up the hill and eventually over one of the lowest passes of the entire route at 4300 m and thought I was going to die along the way. I thought I’d never get there but I did and then descended to the valley below on sometimes obscure trail. The creek at the bottom is deeply dug in in places, so you must watch carefully that you hit it where you can ford it easily while at the same time navigating boggy areas on the slopes to the North of the creek. I camped immediately by the water, glad to get this day behind me.
Next morning I finally felt energetic, confident that the intestinal distress was over. You walk in a wide valley that is quite swampy in places. There are quite a few mucky drainage ditches that you have to get over on a somewhat circuitous route. Eventually you reach the bulldozed road that runs from Carhuacasha up to Laguna Wicrococha. As you top out near the shore of the lake the ground is pretty bare and the wind quite strong. When I was there I had hoped for a nice mid-morning break by a lake, but faced with the realities I just hurried on to stay warm. There is a good trail/4x4 road running above the lake shore. You climb up to the right at a junction and get a great view of the laguna and the quebrada behind it. The trail tops out and then you have a long gradual descent and enter the narrowing end of the quebrada as it arcs to the left. Lots of cattle grazing and you slowly climb through partly swampy pampa. Eventually you bump against the left wall of the quebrada and have to find your way through scrub trees. There is some good water to be found here coming down from high up on the left and you should fill up. Then the steep climb starts in earnest on an old donkey trail that takes you almost to the top of the pass. The last 100 m are rocky with rather cumbersome steps.
At the top great views of where you come from and into the valley ion the other side of the pass. There had been a massive fire that had blackened the entire hillside on the other side of the valley you hike into.
A look back from the pass in direction of L. Wicrococha (behind ridge on right)
A look from the pass into the next valley. Notice the extent of the burn
The descent is rather steep and very rocky but as usual eventually you reach ground that is more comfortable to walk on. At the bottom I met a British woman who had hired an arriero and a guide to hike the Alpamayo circuit. The guide claimed to remember me from the C. Huayuash. Yours truly apparently stood out from the crowd of youngsters that dominated the guided groups hiking C. Huayuash. I hiked down the valley for another two hours or so on good trail and eventually found a nice meadow near the creek to camp on.
The valley heading to Huaripampa
Next morning I hiked to Huaripampa and then found my way to Vaqueria. I had planned to resupply there, but because of the diarrhea I had not eaten much and therefore did not have to. There is really not much there: two stands run by local women who sold some fruit, sugary drinks, and water, not much to satiate hiker hunger. A bus stops at Vaqueria and also a collectivo both of which connect Yanama to Yungay. I hiked Southeast around 10 km along Hway 106 past Chalhua to a hairpin curve above Yanama at 3500 m and left the road in direction of Punta Yanayacu. I camped by the side of the trail and next morning crossed the pass and made my way to Hway 107 which connects Carhuaz with Caraz. I intercepted a bus going to Huaraz and returned to my base for some R&R.
Several trip reports mention that Hwy 107 is busy and that hiking through the tunnel at 4750 m is an unpleasant experience. While one can climb the old gravel road that goes over Punta Olympica at 4950 m instead of taking the tunnel, one would have to join the road again at 4700 m. This asphalted road has no shoulder and the the lines of sight for both drivers and hikers are extremely short as it winds up and down the mountain in switchbacks. While I did not experience that the road was particularly busy, the lack of “heads up” on traffic coming behind you or heading your way did get my attention and I decided that it was not worth it to hike the road. I decided instead that I would take the bus to Huallin on the Caraz side of the pass and continue my hike from there. Purists who would be complaining that I did not connect my footsteps for the CBT may just bite me!
Lastly, my verdict on this section of the CBT. While the 1 1/2 days around Alpamayo and the crossing of Gara Gara Pass and Punta Yanayacu are beautiful, most of the circuito Alpamayo is kind of ho-hum: Hike up grassy pass, descent to grassy valley, climb up to rocky pass and descend to grassy valley…..rinse, lather, repeat. If you are pressed for time and have to make choices, however reluctantly, I would counsel you to consider forgoing the stretch from Hualcayan to Hwy 107 and start your CBT hike in Huallin on Hwy 107. This part of the traverse I will be describing in the next section.
Huallin to Laguna Shallap
I took the bus from Huaraz to Caraz and asked to be let off in the “plaza” in Huallin. Huallin is rather small. If you blink while driving through, you might just miss it in its entirety. From the plaza I walked the highway for a few minutes until I left it to the right at a not entirely obvious junction with a dirt road (# 649) located among some houses. After a while this dirt road passes through an active mine with lots of big machinery, but nobody challenged me and I passed through easily. The dirt road winds up the valley to Juitush where there is a gate. As I arrived there was a substantial gathering of local campesinos having a good time. The occasion appeared to be that they had captured a young bull on the occasion of a festival. It apparently is the deal that they bring over toreros from Spain to stage a bull fight. They had tied the bull to a bridge while the campesinos were having lunch and the animal was decidedly unhappy. Unfortunately, my Spanish is basically non-existent and so I could not have a conversation and figure out the local color.
The dirt road continues to the back of the valley and then climbs the right flank in switchbacks. With a little bit of luck you will find the cow trail that cuts off the switchbacks and lets you climb more expeditiously. A rainstorm with strong wind was blowing in and I therefore camped on the old road bed rather than the terrain ahead which the map suggested was rather open.
Next morning I climbed up and saw that I had made a good choice for camp as there was virtually no protection to be had higher up. The trail to the ridge is likely an old donkey trail, clearly constructed a long time ago, that was probably connecting Caraz to points East before the road across Punta Olympica was put in. Several hundred meters below the crest you have to make a choice: you can either go left via Portachuela de Honda, a route that is longer and puts you into Q. Honda farther West with more road walk (~ 10 km) to get to the exit of Q. Honda, or follow the donkey trail over the crest further on climber’s right. The latter is shorter in distance than the former. However, one always should consider that the longer route can require less time to complete if it is easier to walk than the geographically shorter route. I had no evidence at this point that this was the case in the situation at hand and therefore followed the donkey route to the crest. Very straightforward and the descent on the other side was mostly easy as well, even if the donkey trail disappeared on occasion. I always found it again shortly and I thought that I had made the right decision in choosing the right branch to get into Q. Honda. That was until the last 200 m in altitude above the road in Q. Honda. The trail peters out and I ended up in a maze of cattle trails that mostly ended up in dead ends. Cattle walk with their heads down and therefore, as they push through the vegetation the tunnels they form are maybe 5 ft, not enough if you are 6 ft 4” and carry a pack. The sight lines were on the order of 30 ft in length. The terrain became very steep with well-concealed cliffs. It was an absolute nightmare of micro-orienteering. These last 200 m took me well over an hour until I finally spilled out onto the road. Next day I met a young American couple who were also on the CBT and complained about the same problem. There is also an old trip report by dirtmonger to the same effect.
Your typical U-shaped glacial valley, Cordillera Blanca edition, from the pass
A view back from the pass into the valley that I came up from
A view to the from the descent into Quebrada Honda
A view to the from the descent to Quebrada Honda
There is a nice creek running at the bottom of Q. Honda and plenty of good camping. The miners were driving home and cheered me on. Nobody but the mining vehicles may drive the road, there is a manned gate at the mouth of the quebrada, but nobody was bothered by my walking the road and my camping.
A look back to the head of Quebrada Honda. The pass I took is to the right of the horizontal ridge on the horizon, Portachuela de Honda is the dip just to the right of the center line of the image
Exit of Qu. Honda showing the glacier-polished wall of the canyon
Next morning I walked the road to the gate, was fist-bumped by the guard who of course had to ask which country I was from and how old I was, and entered the part of the quebrada no longer dominated by grazing of cattle and instead by farming. A trip report by Marcin indicates that one can leave the road in this farming area and make one’s way to Quebrada Akilpa. I did not see a trail and the fields were being actively worked on that morning, so that I did not think I should walk through the fields. The map indicated that I could follow a country road to where one starts the climb into Q. Akilpa and that was what I chose to do.
Next morning, bright and early, I headed in direction of Gara Gara pass (5050 m) which is a beast. There is a narrow use trail that runs up the hillside on climber’s left through the typical Peruvian grass that obscures the trail as it grows in the form of tussocks. You have to watch it like a hawk in order not to loose the trail as I managed to do. I had to climb a rather steep grassy moraine until the slope mellowed out and I found the trail again. Along the way I had a fantastic view of Alpamayo and the laguna at its base. I loved how the features got more distinct as the morning progressed
Eventually you enter a giant bowl below the pass that is wall to wall scree and talus, but a distinct trail runs through it so the walking is straightforward. You see the pass ahead of you, high above and then you make your way up to it on a scree slope that does not seem to want to end. But putting one foot ahead of the other will you get there. Alas, by this point Alpamayo has disappeared from view. You get a great view of the glacial valley on the other side which you’ll be passing through for the next couple of hours. The bottom of the valley is swampy, so the trail takes you above the bottom in a wide arc on the left side to a creek crossing and then up the right side of the valley to a pass (Mesopata, 4450 m) into the next valley over.
The descent from Mesopata is reasonably straightforward at the top with decent trail which eventually fades. Walking on grassy slopes at the bottom of this next valley you end up on a dirt road next to a river heading NW. I camped there next to the water without any human in sight.
Next morning I continued on, crossing the river on some sketchy bridge-like objects and making my way in a Southeasterly direction past a rather substantial sheep farm and impressive piles of sheep shit. You climb a fairly narrow valley that about halfway up has a fairly substantive boggy area. You would do best to avoid it as much as possible. Being on the right side of the valley (climber’s right) is the way to go. Ahead of you, high up you see the Yanacon pass ( 4600 m) and there is just no indication on how you get up there. As the terrain gets steep cairns appear that lead you to a trail on the left side of the valley (climber’s left) and that will lead you to the pass without problem. It’s just damn steep!
The pass is in fact bisected by a significant rocky berm and you should cross the pass to the left of the rocks. The entry to the trail leading down the other side is very far on the left. There are foot traces also going down on the right side of the berm, but it’s nasty and not recommended. The better trail winds its way through fields of lupins down onto a large pampa. You have to cross a creek at a spot where two branches of the creek meet. The creek is deeply cut into the terrain and that’s the best spot. On the other side the pampa continues and here it is rather boggy.
On the standard maps (Gaia GPS and Caltopo) three trails are shown on which one may continue. The middle one is labeled as “Alpamayo circuit” and Cam’s waypoints also indicate that he followed it. You should NOT follow this! There has been a fire and it has become a serious bushwhack. Yours truly could not resist, but to his regret. The most straightforward way is to take the path that runs past Laguna Sactaycocha. After struggling with the non-existent middle path I made my way to the right path and it does indeed exist, but it can be difficult to distinguish the human trail from the plethora of bovine trails. If you have a good intuition on how somebody would put in a trail, you can manage to stay on it most of the time, but keep an open mind that you may have wandered off.
Eventually you come to a steep descent on trail that is narrow but used by donkey teams, so it’s distinct. At the bottom the trail initially runs above the right bank of the creek in the valley bottom, crosses this creek eventually and then runs on the left bank all the way to the pampa to the of the small hamlet of Jancacucho. There is a nice campsite there in an abandoned corral, some 50 m above a creek and sheltered from view and wind. The Pucojirca peaks, all above 6000 m, loom above the valley to your right.
You make your way to the the town first on the left-hand side of the valley, right at the margin of the pampa. It’s swampy in places but it goes. Eventually you are forced to cross the pampa and lo’ and behold there are bridges over all the drainage ditches until you reach the road that runs on the right-hand side of the valley by the houses.
The map on Gaia GPS has you leave the road by climbing on a narrow and steep trail to the right. There were fields and a garden there and given my lack of Spanish language skills I wanted to avoid any interaction with humans who might object to my stomping through those. So I pushed up the hill off-trail, walked through an eucalyptus plantation and crossed a gorge on the left on a sketchy use trail, all of this more or less following the path of least resistance (relatively speaking). Eventually I came upon a road and followed it to the West through a settlement and then into the countryside. The path turned South and just climbed straight up the hill. This was day 5 of my intestinal distress episode and I was in no shape to hike, either physically or mentally. I dragged my sorry butt up the hill and eventually over one of the lowest passes of the entire route at 4300 m and thought I was going to die along the way. I thought I’d never get there but I did and then descended to the valley below on sometimes obscure trail. The creek at the bottom is deeply dug in in places, so you must watch carefully that you hit it where you can ford it easily while at the same time navigating boggy areas on the slopes to the North of the creek. I camped immediately by the water, glad to get this day behind me.
Next morning I finally felt energetic, confident that the intestinal distress was over. You walk in a wide valley that is quite swampy in places. There are quite a few mucky drainage ditches that you have to get over on a somewhat circuitous route. Eventually you reach the bulldozed road that runs from Carhuacasha up to Laguna Wicrococha. As you top out near the shore of the lake the ground is pretty bare and the wind quite strong. When I was there I had hoped for a nice mid-morning break by a lake, but faced with the realities I just hurried on to stay warm. There is a good trail/4x4 road running above the lake shore. You climb up to the right at a junction and get a great view of the laguna and the quebrada behind it. The trail tops out and then you have a long gradual descent and enter the narrowing end of the quebrada as it arcs to the left. Lots of cattle grazing and you slowly climb through partly swampy pampa. Eventually you bump against the left wall of the quebrada and have to find your way through scrub trees. There is some good water to be found here coming down from high up on the left and you should fill up. Then the steep climb starts in earnest on an old donkey trail that takes you almost to the top of the pass. The last 100 m are rocky with rather cumbersome steps.
At the top great views of where you come from and into the valley ion the other side of the pass. There had been a massive fire that had blackened the entire hillside on the other side of the valley you hike into.
The descent is rather steep and very rocky but as usual eventually you reach ground that is more comfortable to walk on. At the bottom I met a British woman who had hired an arriero and a guide to hike the Alpamayo circuit. The guide claimed to remember me from the C. Huayuash. Yours truly apparently stood out from the crowd of youngsters that dominated the guided groups hiking C. Huayuash. I hiked down the valley for another two hours or so on good trail and eventually found a nice meadow near the creek to camp on.
Next morning I hiked to Huaripampa and then found my way to Vaqueria. I had planned to resupply there, but because of the diarrhea I had not eaten much and therefore did not have to. There is really not much there: two stands run by local women who sold some fruit, sugary drinks, and water, not much to satiate hiker hunger. A bus stops at Vaqueria and also a collectivo both of which connect Yanama to Yungay. I hiked Southeast around 10 km along Hway 106 past Chalhua to a hairpin curve above Yanama at 3500 m and left the road in direction of Punta Yanayacu. I camped by the side of the trail and next morning crossed the pass and made my way to Hway 107 which connects Carhuaz with Caraz. I intercepted a bus going to Huaraz and returned to my base for some R&R.
Several trip reports mention that Hwy 107 is busy and that hiking through the tunnel at 4750 m is an unpleasant experience. While one can climb the old gravel road that goes over Punta Olympica at 4950 m instead of taking the tunnel, one would have to join the road again at 4700 m. This asphalted road has no shoulder and the the lines of sight for both drivers and hikers are extremely short as it winds up and down the mountain in switchbacks. While I did not experience that the road was particularly busy, the lack of “heads up” on traffic coming behind you or heading your way did get my attention and I decided that it was not worth it to hike the road. I decided instead that I would take the bus to Huallin on the Caraz side of the pass and continue my hike from there. Purists who would be complaining that I did not connect my footsteps for the CBT may just bite me!
Lastly, my verdict on this section of the CBT. While the 1 1/2 days around Alpamayo and the crossing of Gara Gara Pass and Punta Yanayacu are beautiful, most of the circuito Alpamayo is kind of ho-hum: Hike up grassy pass, descent to grassy valley, climb up to rocky pass and descend to grassy valley…..rinse, lather, repeat. If you are pressed for time and have to make choices, however reluctantly, I would counsel you to consider forgoing the stretch from Hualcayan to Hwy 107 and start your CBT hike in Huallin on Hwy 107. This part of the traverse I will be describing in the next section.
Huallin to Laguna Shallap
I took the bus from Huaraz to Caraz and asked to be let off in the “plaza” in Huallin. Huallin is rather small. If you blink while driving through, you might just miss it in its entirety. From the plaza I walked the highway for a few minutes until I left it to the right at a not entirely obvious junction with a dirt road (# 649) located among some houses. After a while this dirt road passes through an active mine with lots of big machinery, but nobody challenged me and I passed through easily. The dirt road winds up the valley to Juitush where there is a gate. As I arrived there was a substantial gathering of local campesinos having a good time. The occasion appeared to be that they had captured a young bull on the occasion of a festival. It apparently is the deal that they bring over toreros from Spain to stage a bull fight. They had tied the bull to a bridge while the campesinos were having lunch and the animal was decidedly unhappy. Unfortunately, my Spanish is basically non-existent and so I could not have a conversation and figure out the local color.
The dirt road continues to the back of the valley and then climbs the right flank in switchbacks. With a little bit of luck you will find the cow trail that cuts off the switchbacks and lets you climb more expeditiously. A rainstorm with strong wind was blowing in and I therefore camped on the old road bed rather than the terrain ahead which the map suggested was rather open.
Next morning I climbed up and saw that I had made a good choice for camp as there was virtually no protection to be had higher up. The trail to the ridge is likely an old donkey trail, clearly constructed a long time ago, that was probably connecting Caraz to points East before the road across Punta Olympica was put in. Several hundred meters below the crest you have to make a choice: you can either go left via Portachuela de Honda, a route that is longer and puts you into Q. Honda farther West with more road walk (~ 10 km) to get to the exit of Q. Honda, or follow the donkey trail over the crest further on climber’s right. The latter is shorter in distance than the former. However, one always should consider that the longer route can require less time to complete if it is easier to walk than the geographically shorter route. I had no evidence at this point that this was the case in the situation at hand and therefore followed the donkey route to the crest. Very straightforward and the descent on the other side was mostly easy as well, even if the donkey trail disappeared on occasion. I always found it again shortly and I thought that I had made the right decision in choosing the right branch to get into Q. Honda. That was until the last 200 m in altitude above the road in Q. Honda. The trail peters out and I ended up in a maze of cattle trails that mostly ended up in dead ends. Cattle walk with their heads down and therefore, as they push through the vegetation the tunnels they form are maybe 5 ft, not enough if you are 6 ft 4” and carry a pack. The sight lines were on the order of 30 ft in length. The terrain became very steep with well-concealed cliffs. It was an absolute nightmare of micro-orienteering. These last 200 m took me well over an hour until I finally spilled out onto the road. Next day I met a young American couple who were also on the CBT and complained about the same problem. There is also an old trip report by dirtmonger to the same effect.
There is a nice creek running at the bottom of Q. Honda and plenty of good camping. The miners were driving home and cheered me on. Nobody but the mining vehicles may drive the road, there is a manned gate at the mouth of the quebrada, but nobody was bothered by my walking the road and my camping.
Next morning I walked the road to the gate, was fist-bumped by the guard who of course had to ask which country I was from and how old I was, and entered the part of the quebrada no longer dominated by grazing of cattle and instead by farming. A trip report by Marcin indicates that one can leave the road in this farming area and make one’s way to Quebrada Akilpa. I did not see a trail and the fields were being actively worked on that morning, so that I did not think I should walk through the fields. The map indicated that I could follow a country road to where one starts the climb into Q. Akilpa and that was what I chose to do.
I had lunch in an eucalyptus forest near Honcopampa and then started the climb. It was pretty stinking hot and it took a while until I reached the Queñua forest that dominates the first couple of miles of Q. Akilpa. While on the map the trail in this quebrada looks as long as the road in Q. Honda, one should not believe that one can walk it as efficiently as the road in Q. Honda. The trail winds back and forth across the creek, there are stretches that are built out with giant steps (step height 2 ft +) and some places where the trail has been taken out by floods.
I was happy to camp early as I exited the forest, well short of the day’s goal! I enjoyed a bit of late afternoon sun until it set behind the steep cliffs and the temperatures dropped like a rock a usual.
The first pampa past the Queñua forest
Next morning I continued the climb and reached a giant pampa that I made my way around on the right side, contending with some boggy bits along the way. Past the bog I latched onto the trail again which climbs a moraine on the right side of the valley to then enter a set of switchbacks that get you up to L. Aquilpo, which is just a spectacular spot below massive glaciers and peaks. I decided to camp there since I had some concerns about the pass coming up and I wanted to avoid the possibility of having to camp on the way down the other side. My interpretation of the Google Earth image of the trail on other side was that it was basically a free fall down a very steep slope, possibly being braked occasionally by hitting the ground. I wanted to be able to take my time and not be under pressure.
Crossing the moraine between first and second pampa. Notice the tussocks of the typical Peruvian grass that the grazing animals avoid.
Next morning as I started to climb to the pass I met a Swiss couple from the French part of Switzerland who were preparing to climb Ishinca. They had brought with them their Swiss mountain guide and two porters to carry their gear. They had arrived the night before by way off a donkey team that had carried their stuff up Q. Akilpa. Clearly members of the upper few percent of the income distribution.
Afternoon at L. Aquilpo. The peak is Tocllaraju (6034 m)
Alpenglow at L. Aquilpo
View of L. Aquilpo from ascent to Paso Usuru.
View of L. Aquilpo from ascent to Paso Usuru with sun on the water.
Tocllaraju peak (6034 m)
I reached Usuru Pass (5050 m) taking time along the way to enjoy the view of L. Aquilpo and the mountains above it. The first 50 m on the other side was a cairned route through bedrock and then came about 100 m of altitude on a loose dirt slope, at the angle of repose, i.e. extremely steep, with cliffs below. A fall here would not be good. If you fell and started to roll you could get very seriously hurt or worse if you did not know how to self-arrest. For me this stretch stirred rather uncomfortable and unwelcome memories of Snowtongue Pass on the Sierra High Route. After overcoming some scree and talus I ended up in a dry bowl and had some lunch to decompress and steel my stomach for the next part of the descent which I was not looking forward to. In the event, it was not all that bad.
Next morning I continued the climb and reached a giant pampa that I made my way around on the right side, contending with some boggy bits along the way. Past the bog I latched onto the trail again which climbs a moraine on the right side of the valley to then enter a set of switchbacks that get you up to L. Aquilpo, which is just a spectacular spot below massive glaciers and peaks. I decided to camp there since I had some concerns about the pass coming up and I wanted to avoid the possibility of having to camp on the way down the other side. My interpretation of the Google Earth image of the trail on other side was that it was basically a free fall down a very steep slope, possibly being braked occasionally by hitting the ground. I wanted to be able to take my time and not be under pressure.
Next morning as I started to climb to the pass I met a Swiss couple from the French part of Switzerland who were preparing to climb Ishinca. They had brought with them their Swiss mountain guide and two porters to carry their gear. They had arrived the night before by way off a donkey team that had carried their stuff up Q. Akilpa. Clearly members of the upper few percent of the income distribution.
I reached Usuru Pass (5050 m) taking time along the way to enjoy the view of L. Aquilpo and the mountains above it. The first 50 m on the other side was a cairned route through bedrock and then came about 100 m of altitude on a loose dirt slope, at the angle of repose, i.e. extremely steep, with cliffs below. A fall here would not be good. If you fell and started to roll you could get very seriously hurt or worse if you did not know how to self-arrest. For me this stretch stirred rather uncomfortable and unwelcome memories of Snowtongue Pass on the Sierra High Route. After overcoming some scree and talus I ended up in a dry bowl and had some lunch to decompress and steel my stomach for the next part of the descent which I was not looking forward to. In the event, it was not all that bad.
There were very few guests at the Refugio and a nice Italian lady cooked me some carbonara before I crossed the valley and climbed up to the dried up laguna at ~ 4650 m to camp. That night was the only night that I had serious rain during the entire trip. It poured for about three hours before the skies cleared and the typical frost set in.
Next morning I climbed to Laguna Ishinca below Paso Ishinca by way of Refugio Vivaque Longoni and then found my way up to the glacier below the pass. The path is clear, rather steep and exposed in places, until you reach the part of the glacier that is covered with debris from the mountain above (Ranrapalca 6162 m). During the entire climb this mountain shed off rocks which noisily bounced downhill in spectacular fashion. To the left of the debris field is the glacier which on this particular morning was covered in two inches of fresh, wet snow from the precipitation the night before which had come down as snow 200 m above where I had camped.
This is the place where Cam Honan’s waypoints are no longer current. You must cross the ridge above farther on climber’s right than his waypoints indicate, assuming you are just a hiker rather than an alpinist carrying ice climbing gear. I was happy to have micro spikes while contending with the fresh snow as I climbed the glacier. There is no need to explore crevasses in any depth, if you get my drift. Just walk parallel to the debris field to your right and then turn left up the glacier right below the pass. About 50 m below and just past the pass veer right and contour over to the pass. The terrain just below the pass is a mixture of ice, slush and dirt and you are likely going to get quite dirty, but beyond that it’s entirely straightforward.
A great view over to the other side into Q. Cojup awaits you. The trail is pretty obvious until you are past the second L. Cojup and then the cairns become sporadic. I ended up in the bowl NW of L. Perolcocha in not the most straightforward fashion and then more less straight headed down for the campsites shown near the road leading to L. Palcacocha. The campsite is pretty open, but has water and as usual the wind died down as the sun set so that the lack of shielding did not matter.
Next morning I headed down the road to the entry to the Northern of the two trails shown as heading to Paso Huapi. You have to ford the creek and then head NW to the canyon wall where on Gaia GPS a trail is shown that heads straight up the mountain. I did not find a trail and climbed very steeply up the hill following the path of least resistance. Around 4650 m I found traces of a use trail that gradually improved as it headed straight up the mountain again. You are in the correct gully if you can see some sort of antenna on the ridge above. The trail runs in very steep scree and really helps to overcome the terrain. At around 4900 m it veers right and there are some tricky spots where you have to watch for cairns before finally reaching Paso Huapi.
As you descend try to stay high as you head left until you see the fairly substantial cairns that lead you through the talus field on reasonable trail. I had ended up too low and had to climb up to the trail through the talus. Let’s just say that I have had more fun. The map shows two potential trails at about 4800 m and I chose the Northern one as it was in more gentle terrain. At around 4550 m there is a small bowl that gets drained by a creek not shown on the map. It is worthwhile to find this creek and hike West on its right bank. This way you easily find the trail that zig-zags down the mountainside which would otherwise be rather brushy and steep. At the bottom you ford a stream, ford a second time at a giant pampa some 20 min later.
I camped there and next morning headed for the exit of Q. Quilcayhuanca. It’s quite the walk! You pass the unmanned ranger station and an asphalted road takes you to Pitek. Pitek consists of a shack where a local woman prepares lunch for people returning from the day hike to Laguna Churup. That’s it!It is extremely easy to not realize that you have reached Pitek! Your indication that it is coming up is that you will be crossing water channels coming down from Churup and they are labeled as such. Around 1-2 PM there may be a collectivo collecting people coming back from L. Churup and you may get a seat if one is available. Taxis waiting there will quote you S./ 100 for the drive to Huaraz. A rip-off!
I hiked for slightly more than an hour on a donkey trail down to the small town of Llupa, joining the asphalted road by a small bodega in the village. There I caught a collectivo which got me down to Huaraz for S./ 2.30, much cheaper and earlier than if I had waited for the collectivo at Pitek.
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