May 25th 2012. 8am - Quilcayhuanca Valley 

(Zona de Usa Especial) 

Day 5 of my 5 day treck.

Waiting for the sun to thaw me and my gear out. Dry off really, no ice last night, just heavy cold rain. I must be down around 4,100mtrs.

Yesterday while searching desperately for a campsite exhaustion led me down to a valley accesed by a rickity bridge.

I had been hiking for 8hrs and the sun was threating to let the cold overtake me. I´d asscended and decended over 1000mtrs, made it through the difficulties of navigating the 5,100mtr snow blind pass and avoiding falling down the sheer decent into the valley. All this thanks to a white tailed mountain deer who showed me the way down.

I needed a place to sleep and set up camp.

After crossing the bridge I clunked around looking for a flat wind protected perch. Nothing. I wandered higher. The cry of a calf caught my attention. The thought entered my mind, ¨this does not look like an established camping area¨.

My eyes sensed movement. A menacing grey Bull was thundering toward me. Instinctively I ran straight at him, putting a big boulder and high bush between us.  He did his best to circle the boulder and get a good swipe at me. I cricled with him being sure to keep our seperation. We came to a stand still. I could see his nostrals flare as he scared the earth with his hoofs. I pointed my trecking poles at his head. My only means of defense. My mind raced.

I crossed the poles over my head and cracked them together trying to appear larger and louder. ¨Back the fuck up! I mean no harm¨.

I should have spoken spanish. What can I say, I was scared shitless.

While talking to the bull and trying to reason with him I took note of my surroundings and possible means of escape. Lots of open space. I wasn´t trying to outrun this beast. I caught more movement. Seems another bull had taken interest into what the hell I was doing. I decided to take my chance and ever so slowly backed up, eyeing the small bridge 200yards behind me. The grey bull stayed put. His friend strolled over to him. I kept my poles high, my movements slow and calm. Finally I reached the bridge and crossed. The bulls continued to observe.

I posted camp high on a ridge nestled next to the steep dropoff of a cliff and behind a red lettered sing reading, Zona de Usa Especial. The bulls and cows came by for a night time visit but their spirits were light and demeanor friendly. I could see the Valley from my perch.

¨Im watching you cows¨.