Pete Thomas

In September 2006 my wife and I took part in a fundraising walk along the Inca Trail in the Andes, Peru. To do this we first had to raise £2650 each (as well as our airfare) in aid of our chosen charity which is APEC, a charity which has saved the lives of my wife and children and countless others throughout the world. The trek was actually a different trail and was a lot harder. It involved walking up to 11 hours a day in some mountainous terrain at an altitude of about 15,000 feet. The organisers gave us a training schedule which started in July.

Training Schedule

The schedule starts with a couple of 2 hour walks (easy). (A normal walk is about 3 m.p.h. but with a few stops and gradients it usually works out a bit less - more like 2 m.p.h. when walking up and down hills). The main bit of training means a 4 hour walk one weekend, then two 4 hour walks the next with a couple of brisk 1 hour welks on the weekdays. This progresses to one 6 hour walk at the weekend, then two 6 hour walks the next weekend with brisk 2 hour walks on the weekdays. Then on to the 8 hour walks, ending up with 2 consecutive 8 hour walks (aaarghh!). We are trying to make the walks as “realistic” as possible, ie lots of gradients as you might expect on the Inca Trail, but I imagine there is not the same type of pub for lunch. I’ll also be taking my panpipes on the training. But not up the Andes, I’ll leave that to the locals.

It struck me that here was a bunch of people doing something for charity. Something that was potentially (and really was) “tough and miserable” to quote the words of Kelso, one of the team leaders. Not only the toughness and miserableness of exhaustion and altitude sickness but in addition I’m sure there were quite a few (like us) combining it all with something we hate the idea of, i.e. camping. Not just normal camping in a civilised campsite, but in a very basic and cold site. No showers; toilets are either a long queue for a chemical jobby (excuse the bad pun) or a hole in the ground. You don’t know whether to be happy about the fantastic starry sky or dread the cold night ahead that it means. You wake up at 3.a.m. needing the toilet and wonder if it’s best to get up then and put all your clothes on and navigate to the toilet and hopefully get back to sleep, or worry whether you can hold it in and go back to sleep until the 5.30.a.m. wake up for breakfast.

The good thing about this trek was the food. The local porters and cooks did an amazing job. A nourishing breakfast of coca tea, quinoa porridge and pancakes was ready by 6.00. We set off, they then packed up camp and set off (with all the tents, sleeping bags etc, food, water and toilets) and overtook us in time to set up and cook lunch, we ate a hearty meal, they then packed up and set off with all the stuff, overtook us and set up the evening meal.

All that in sandals and no Goretex.

PHOTOS

No chance to do this from Peru, it was either a case of no internet cafe (4450 meters up in the Andes) or too much altitude sickness to get it together when there was one. Yes altitude sickness can mess with your brian, as well as the other effects of headaches, nausea, nosebleeds, flatulence, dizzyness, more flatulence, synus issues and dyselxia.

Firstly on arriving at Cusco we were told that instead of walking The Inca Trail (which we had thought we were doing from the start) we were going to walk An Inca Trail. Apologies to all those who sponsored me to walk The Inca Trail, however the trail we did (the Lares Trail) is actually higher and tougher than the actual Inca Trail. Instead of nicely paved Inca tracks it’s mostly quite nasty rocky or treacherously dusty and slippery terrain up and down very steep slopes, with mountain passes that deceive you with every twist and turn: your feet, calves, thigh, stomach, lungs and brain are saying “STOP!”, but the end of the climb is in view. Only to find that as you get to the top and turn the corner it was only the first stage of many on the way to the pass and there is another and another impossibly steep and gruelling climb. You have to walk/climb very very slowly or the altitude sickness and exhaustion take over. I wish we had been better briefed about this, perhaps the training schedule was right for The Inca Trail, but it was nowhere near adequate for this kind of climb and possibly for this reason a few of the party had to stop and be taken down.

Still we saw some great views and memorable experiences. Camping at -5 degrees (note minus) being one of them. We had the privilege of visiting the home of one of the locals. This was a real eye opener, A family of 8 living in one small room, dirt floor and guinea pigs running around the kitchen (see photos).

A note to those who very kindly sponsored us to walk The Inca Trail:

Until arriving at Cusco we weren’t made properly aware that we were going on the Lares Trail rather than The Inca Trail. I think if you knew how much tougher than the Inca Trail this was, then you won’t mind (and you might even possibly pay more!), but if you feel conned (as I did slightly), I can happily refund you and still pay the charity.

More to come soon as I get over the jetlag and a stinking cold.

We’re leaving today, might get a chance to update the blog if I find an internet cafe up there!

Bye

Sorry for the delay in posting this, I hope you didn’t all think the traing had got the better of us. After last week, I must admit I was nervous about being about to do 2 eight hour walks on two consecutive days. It was quite an achievement to do 8 hours, but to come home exhausted and aching, then get up the next morning to do it all over again is the only way to know we can do the trek in the Andes for 5 days.

Well, it all went quite well. Started off yesterday in the good old New Forest. First intereresting thing was an adder. Unfortunately it was roadkill but brought home to us how close to very wildlife we are. And I was careful where I trod for the rest of the day.

We got lost (seems to be feature of recent walks), but finally found a pub for lunch after being misdirected up a very steep and long way round, but it was probably the biggest ploughman’s lunch in the world with about 10 ounces of cheese. Rest of the day was long, loads of hills (see picture - of course once again I had to run a head to get this shot) but we got home tired and aching, but not as bad as last week.

Next day was fine! The first half hour was a bit achy, but we went on a very hilly walk in the South Downs. Towards the end the aches turned into pain, but you just endure it and put one foot in front of the other thinking of how nice it will be when it’s all finished.

And it was - 36 miles of hilly trekking in two days. And the morning after we both felt that we could do it all over again for another two days, albeit with industrial quantities of moleskin and Compeed. We’ve progressed from ramblers with the Hampshire Teashop Walk Guide to trekkers with Ordnace Survey map and a compass (even though we’re not always that good at using it). And that’s the end of our official training, we “rest” a bit for the next two weeks, just a couple of mere 6 hour walks now and again to keep the muscles in shape.

It’s not all exhausting but somehow enjoyable walks round the countryside that get more and more exhausting, we also have to do weekday walks. Just when you thought you could give the calves, knees, thighs and blistery bits a chance to recover, there are also several weekday walks. Not so easy when you also have to carry on making an honest living, but I manage to do this by walking round Southampton common for a couple of hours. It’s very flat, but I make up for its lack of resemblance to Machu Picchu by walking very fast and doing arm-stretching and breathing exercises at the same time. Does wonders for your lack of self conciousness.

Compared with last weekend, this might have been a bit easier. We walked along the Pilgrim’s Way from Winchester to Upham and back, a round trip of only about 14 miles. No, no, no. It turned out to be either walking up hill or downhill. Even the level bits seemed to be hills (see photo - and yes, once again I had to run ahead to get the picture). So quite good preparation for the Andes (although I imagine the air isn’t quite as thin on the North Downs), but what with some very rugged and slippery slopey terrain undefoot we were beginning to feel we were progressing from ramblers via hikers to trekkers. But then you have to respect our predecessors the pilgrims who used this very path without Scarpa boots, Goretex or Compeed.

We managed to get lost again just before lunch (becoming a bit of a theme). This time we ended up in a field where a bunch of cows suddenly formed a line and stared at us menacingly. True to walking mythology we suddenly realised they didn’t have udders. Luckily they weren’t actual bulls, as Laurie pointerd out, they were steers and in a sort of macho adolescent kind of way were doing their best to be aggressive, nudging each other and saying “go on, you gore them to death”, then realising they didn’t really have the balls for a fight they moved off sideways. Later on we met a deer suddenly right in the middle of a field.

Apart from the foot pains (which I’ll discuss separately), we both got home feeling completely exhausted and aching from head to foot, on account of the amount of gradients involved. We also woke up feeling the same which was a bit disheartening: the trek is only 3 weeks off now. However it seems that this happens: you wake up thinking you can’t possibly even move for a day, but once you haul yourself out of bed and stretch a bit, the aches sort of subside. (But only “sort of”). I feel I could have gone on another walk today, but it wouldn’t have been easy. Next weekend is the 2 x eight hours. Aaagh, still I’m very grateful we are keeping up with the prescribed training schedule. And it’s great to see some of the best bits of rural England. Here are some pics of just a couple of the sights that helped the Pilgrim’s feel it was all worthwhile:

Especially this after a long walk uphill getting lost in the rain:

So far I haven’t had actual blisters, but some very painful areas on my left foot: the pad just below my big toe and the lower part of my heel. I hate these more than blisters because they are spread out and harder to define. The problem with my toe is not so much a blister but to do with lack of cushioning, ie I could do with more fatty tissue on the bottom of my feet, however my metabolism works in the usual way for gentlemen of a certain age, any extra fatty tissue goes towards enhancing the beer gut. As you can see from the boot discussion earlier, I’ve started to address the problem with new boots, but of course even though they can now be padded out with the incredibly expensive odoureaters, they still need breaking in while the affected areas are not yet healed, so I’m trying the conventional blister solutions: moleskin or Compeed. Laurie tells me people tend to either swear by one or the other. I’m currently swearing at both while I try them out: I have moleskin on the toe and Compeed on the heal. I’m resigned to the probability that due to the ever increasing training schedule I may just have to learn to control the pain, as the only way to completely heal them may be to go to bed for 3 months.

I was initially disappointed to discover moleskin is not real moleskin but an artificial molskin with a sticky side and a moley side. Being an animal wildlife lover I’m very glad there aren’t loads of mole farms. I suppose roadkill moles would be ethically sound, but most roadkill round here are hedghehogs. Not so good for blisters.

Compeed seems to be a very hi-tech sort of second skin, with very complicated instructions about peeling back various layers of protective packaging flaps and things (more than an inkjet cartdridge). You also heat it up for a minute before and after applying. You’d think that after all that palaver it would stay on if you have a bath, but no. Still, I suppose real trekkers don’t have baths so that’s alright then. The good thing about moleskin is that you can take it off before a bath or shower, and it still has plenty of sticky to reuse it.

You’ve read about our experience of being caught in the worst downpour since records began, Goretex is now our best friend. When I first bought the waterproof trousers I got home and thought, F***, I’ve just paid £90 for plastic trousers. No, no, no. I ‘m so glad I didn’t take them back and buy the £9.99 Pacamac trousers from Matalan. I soon realised once they were on that they had some great features. Not only a zip on the bottom outside of the legs to help put them on over your boots, but there is a sort of double zip feature so you can also unzip the outside of the legs from the top of the leg downwards if you want a bit of ventilation on your thighs without undoing the whole thing from the bottom upwards and having them flap about in the breeze. I hope you can follow this, easier to understand (just) if you are actually wearing them.

There is something deep in your psyche that makes you not want to put waterproof trousers on. I don’t know if it’s just the palava of pulling them over your boots or a macho thing, but once you’ve experienced boots full of rain you know you need them. The problem is scattered showers (which is what the weather forecast always says as they have to hedge their bets - you can’t really really complain if they are wrong about scattered showers, if it doesn’t rain they’ll just say you weren’t in the place where they were scattered).

On the last walk (which included scattered showers) I had the Goretex trousers on but felt slightly uncomfortable on the inside of my right thigh, even though my normal trousers were quite light and comfortable. So, I took the plunge (having threatened Laurie for a while with removing my actual trousers and just wearing the waterproofs), and we stopped (luckily a bit later than than the sudden meeting with the Fickles Hole Riding School weekly outing) for me to remove my trousers and resume the walk in just the Goretex trousers.

After some trepidation (and hoping I wouldn’t turn into a Goretex fetishist), I realised that it was actually working quite well and that maybe I could become friends with these trousers, especially the upper zips on the outside leg. Just a pity there is no zip at the front.

Apart from one round of begging emails to friends and clients, my fundraising has all been via donations on my website and forum, along with any advertising revenue from the sites. We were initially going to try yardsales and fundraising parties, but so far things are looking quite good as it is and I’m quite close to the target £2650, but of course it will be nice to make more.

Luckily the main site seems to be quite popular, I have plenty of jazz and saxophone tutorials which unlike many comparable online resources, are available free of charge, but I do of course suggest that donations for the fundraising are welcome.

“Sampleaid” is working particularly well. This is where I make my own custom made working audio files available. Many music producers have such a library which they have built up over the years, and are usually a jealously guarded personal unique resource, and mine was no exception until last year when I decicded to make part of it available via downloads and CDs in order to help with the fundraising. I set up a “Sample Aid” paypal account so the funds can be kept away from my own business earnings and all the income can go straight to APEC.

The saxophone instruction DVDs are also selling very well, but I have to buy these from the producer so can only donate the profits to the fund. They are also available from Amazon and various other on and offline retail outlets so I have a bit of competition with those.
The UK Saxophone Teachers directory is not doing so well. I thought that this would attract more applicants than it has. I’ve raised a small amount with it, but realised that it needs a lot more publicity and work getting it networked via other online directories. I won’t give up on this, but because of the amount of work it will have to wait until after the Peru Trek.