The climb to Salkantay Pass is nothing short of unreal. I started at 4:20 a.m. from Soraypampa, ascending mostly in darkness with only my headlamp lighting the way. Rain from the night before left the trail muddy and slick, making navigation difficult at times.
When I finally reached the pass, the sun began to rise, revealing the jagged peaks and glacial walls surrounding me. I quickly swapped out my cold-weather layers and began the long, technical descent. The rocky terrain demanded focus but remained runnable in stretches.
I had a small setback early on - I realized I’d forgotten my water filter at my Airbnb. That mistake caught up to me fast, and the lack of hydration became a constant challenge. Once I hit the road past Collpapampa, I opened up my stride and cruised on the long downhill, soaking in the views and momentum.
The second major climb into the jungle was brutal. Humid air, steep grades, and minimal water made every step a grind. I focused on staying locked in, pushing one climb at a time. The descent was pure chaos - slick mud, endless switchbacks, and a few solid falls that had me laughing mid-slog. Eventually, I made it to the bridge crossing, soaked, scraped, but still moving.
From there, I went into autopilot. The final stretch toward Machu Picchu Pueblo was a mix of running and fast hiking as dehydration set in. My pace slowed, but my determination didn’t. Those last eight miles tested every bit of grit I had left. When I hit the final half mile into town, I found a second wind and pushed hard to the Plaza, exhausted and completely flooded with emotion.
This route has everything - altitude, mud, technical terrain, jungle heat, and magic. It tested me in every way, but that’s exactly why I came. I’m so proud (and honestly relieved) to now hold the Women’s FKT on the Salkantay Trek. Worth every step.