Every morning a small contingent of the group, self-named “Coffee Crew”,  wakes up 30min to 1 hour before the morning run to boil water for coffee and try to get the mind and body ready to run.  Usually this means waking up between 6 and 6:30. We stir, sip, and chat trying to stay warm while the air temperature is still well below 50 degrees. Everyone agrees that sleep is precious here because our days are full and the altitude stealthily adds to fatigue.  It is understandable that many Strivers skip the morning coffee ritual and maximize their sleep.  Friday morning, Coffee Crew was in for a greater challenge than normal because Friday was what may be considered a Strive rite of passage, summiting Mount Doom.  That morning departure was set at 5:30am, so St. Scott started the water boiling at 4:45.

The annual hike begins at our hostel door before dawn, rises to the summit of one of the highest local peaks, and ends back where we started.  Given that there is no easy way to find out the name of each peak in the sacred valley, Tyler affectionately refers to this particular peak as Mount Doom.  That name was bestowed to the peak on a previous year because of its Tolkien aesthetic.   There is no helicopter waiting for you at the top, so all elevation gained by foot, must be lost on foot.  A common pitfall is to underestimate the descent.  Though less aerobically demanding, the descent can be more technical, more strenuous on your joints, and you have already been hiking for hours.  

This was my second summer with Strive, and my second Mount Doom ascent.  Though packing little food for the day, I made sure to eat a large breakfast of peanut butter oatmeal, and to pack lots of water.  Right before leaving Tyler pointed to the sky and pointed out Venus, one of the few celestial bodies bright enough to still be seen with dawn’s approach, the morning star. Then we were off.

The first 2 hours were dark and very steep.  The group strung out into a long line with a lot more breathing than conversation.  Personally, my legs felt tight from the high mileage we have all been doing, my stomach felt almost uncomfortably full, and there was no getting around the fact that it was still very early.  Needless to say I thought the first 2 hours were challenging.  At that point the sun was peaking over the mountains. The group stopped to check in on everyone, take off layers and apply sunscreen.  Looking up from the ground for the first time I was astonished how high above the valley we had come already.  Pisaq was already reduced to the size of an anthill.  

Fueled and ready to go, Tyler told everyone that the next major break would be at the summit and it was okay for everyone to hike at their own pace as long as you had a buddy and a cell phone.  Tyler promised that the summit was over an hour away, but it seemed so close.  Feeling energized by the sun and the proximity of the summit, Tyler, Curtis, Calvin, Kirsty, me, and Ronnie began to hike faster.  Ronnie is our Peruvian friend and our go-to Machu Picchu Trek outfitter.  Like many of the Peruvian guides I have met, Ronnie is great company on the mountain.  He appears completely relaxed among the mountains.  He has a spritely build and  sense of humor. Ronnie is deceptively tough and wise. Late in the day he admitted that he hadn’t gotten into Pisaq until past 11pm the night before, didn’t really sleep, and didn’t eat dinner or breakfast.  Yet he was in no physical distress.  

Since I was looking down a lot anyway, I began to take notice of the botany.  Astonishly, every 15 or 20 minutes the type of plant covering the ground changed.  It seemed that each 100 meters of altitude favored a distinct collection of plant species.  Mist loving moss, arborvitaes, and cacti.  Short green grasses or high brown grass.  Tiny ferns or lichens. Suddenly my horticultural contemplations were interrupted by a gasp.  Kirsty and Tyler had crested a false peak and could now for the first time see over the mountains to the world outside the sacred valley.  It was beautiful.  From there we continued along the ridge to the true Mount Doom peak.  

The entire group arrived at the peak in high spirits.  It was only 10am.  Everyone soaked in the 360 panorama and we took an exhausting amount of group photos.  At this point, some Strivers wanted to spend a few hours enjoying the scenery tranquilo (calmly) and then head down. Others wanted to attempt an alternative route back that Tyler scoped out on Google Earth.  Me, Tyler, Curtis, Calvin, Kirsty, and Ronnie wanted to try the new route.

Our first accomplishment was among my Strive 2017 bucket list, I set a new personal best for highest altitude.  We used grass to haul ourselves up a nearby peak that was just over 15,000ft.  The extra 1,000ft offered an entirely different view because we were at one of the local maximum elevations.  Pisaq was now invisible, obscured by a ridgeline, and we could see a new collection of peaks in the distance.  From the new vantage point the truly great mountains, the Nevados, the snow covered peaks, displayed more of their giant white heads.  

Our destination was a small multicolor speck off in the distance. There were many times throughout the journey down that we fantasized of surfing, sliding, or tumbling down the steep grade and high grass.  Instead we slogged down it, overworking our quads, and rubbing our hands raw on the grass.  It was a like a straw exfoliation treatment for our hands and Kirsti’s legs donned in shorts.  Eventually we reached a trail.  Though a respite for our hands, the inclined dirt trail offered more abuse for our quads and feet.  The most efficient way down was a shuffling stunted run that pressed our toes into the front of our shoes.  

The only person we saw in the final leg before we reached the town was a boy and his dog running down the side of the mountain at a pace that made our pained shuffle seem pathetic.  Once in town, we piled in a van and headed to Pisaq for a highly anticipated roast chicken dinner.