The World at 16,000 Feet in the Andes Mountains and Wild Vicunas

the upper left of the sign- "4,910 meters"

Though I've acclimated to slightly lower elevations of the Andes, at 4,910 meters it only takes a few steps before my lungs feel like they're inhaling fire. My oxygen deprived brain wonders if I'm transforming into a dragon.

Some of my American friends are excitedly asking how many feet that translates to, while others are merely wondering what a "meter" is.
I dialed-up the Peruvian Scientific Society and asked if there's a way to convert 4,910 meters into feet, and the ominous reply came back, "There is, but it kill you."  ... Peru is not the safest country.
Someone later called me back and told me it had been calculated to be 16,109 feet ... Now, let's all hold a moment of silence.

a view of the Andes mountains at 16,000 + feet
the peaks in the distance are volcanos exceeding 20,000 feet

llama herd at 16,000 feet

Soon after we come across a herd of llamas, the only domesticated/ farmed animal in the Americas of yesteryear. I walk amongst them, they seem un-disturbed, used to people.

video: llamas and vicunas at 16,000 feet

A short while later we spot a group of four wild vicuna, ancestor of the llama. A jacket made of vicuna wool costs in excess of $20,000, explaining why the animal was at one point nearly hunted to extinction. We're quite lucky to see them.

Today a program has been instituted where highland villages capture wild vicunas and sheer those whose wool has grown for two years (past a certain designated length.) Once shorn, the animal is released back into the wild, which has enabled the vicuna population to rebound. 

All that being said, being at these these wind swept, fire inhaling elevations was quite an experience, but not one I'm sad ended relatively quickly. It's unlikely I'll be ascending Mt. Everest.  

wild vicuna

Bike Ride Down the Andes Mountains on the Inca Jungle Trek

The Inca Jungle Trek, opening salvo: 12 adventurers are driven to the top of an Andean mountain before exiting a van at an elevation approaching 15,000 feet. We're beset on all sides by fog and clouds, limiting our visibility, the temperature hovers near zero.

All geared up and ready to bike

We put on protective gear- helmets, elbow and knee pads, gloves, a bright orange vest to warn any cars speeding around the curves of our presence, and a flak jacket for stray bullets- you can never be too careful.
We push off down the road, picking up speed as we gain confidence in our ability to traverse the "slippery slope." A frigid wind howls in our ears, my body chatters and tenses in the cold.

a view of the valley Far below- cloudy view

We arrive at a lookout over a valley far below, the view majestic and stunning. So much greenery, so tranquil and quiet at these elevations. 

Continuing down the mountain the vistas gain in clarity as the shroud of water vapor surrounding us begins to dissipate. 
A car traveling uphill speeds around the curve, whizzing by a few feet away, spraying me with the layer of water which permanently covers the pavement. Numerous mountain streams and small rivers roll down the hill and over the road, failing to obey a single traffic law, then continue down into the valley. We get soaked biking through them- freezing but fun. 

the valley below- closer and more clear

I pass a roadside grave, of which there are many in Peru, often in the most far flung locations. Perhaps they were hit by one of the stray bullets? I adjust my bike helmet and flak jacket.

roadside grave

one of many large stream flowing down the mountain and over the road

Further down the hill the temperature warms, birds fly about chirping, and butterflies line the roads deriving some sort of sustenance from them. We cross a bridge over a rushing river, and come to the end of our journey near the small town of Santa Marta. We've descended 2,000 plus meters down the Andes- the feeling is exhilarating. 

butterflies near a stream

video: highlights of the ride down the mountain