The road to Ausangate took us south along the Puno Highway, where we made brief stops to buy sweet bread and pork crackling for snacks on the way, before turning eastward to climb steeply up the bare slopes of the Vilcanota Valley. Cresting these hills, we had our first glimpse of the 6370m massif of Nevado Ausangate, shining white in the morning sun, and the long range of the Cordillera Vilcanota to the east. If the weather held, this promised to be a very nice trek indeed.

We were on the new road into Brazil and it was a work in progress; much of the dirt part had been upgraded, some parts had been sealed, and all along other sections were being rerouted or being readied for eventual sealing. We followed this route down into the next valley, passing several small villages. As it was a Sunday, the central plazas had all been converted into markets, with people from the hill communities resplendent in multi-coloured traditional outfits and hats in town to do the week's shopping.

At Tinque, the last town on our route, we stocked up with a few more supplies, after which Rolando drove us another 3 kilometres up a narrow and rough country road, the glacier-capped peaks of Nevados Ccallangate, Collaque Cruz and Ausangate getting ever closer. Finally, we stopped and set up camp in a field surrounded by stone-walls and adobe huts, as Rolando headed back to Cuzco.

Day 1 - Tinqui to Q'ollapampa (14 km - 600m ascent - 250m descent)

Soon we were off on the trek, with Yamil and Lydia leading us up the stone-walled road between the houses scattered in the rolling green hills. It was a pleasant climb, with the odd stop to chat to schoolkids setting off on the long walk into Tinqui and check out their books. Men in sequinned hats strolled by, weaving as they walked; others passed on horseback and colourfully-clad women herded alpacas in the nearby fields. Life in the country was stirring.

More herds of alpacas of various shades and combinations of white, grey, tan and brown, some woolly, some dread-locked, watched us pass, as the local dogs lived up to their reputations (their bad habits are written up in the Lonely Planet Guide) by rushing out to bark us off the premises.

Continuing on, we followed Yamil and the brightly coloured hat of Lydia across the boggy pastures to round the perched village of Upis, entering the Quebrada Upismayo and follow its spongy stream banks to the Upis hot springs a little further up. Steaming sulphurous water bubbled up at at a range of temperatures from pleasant to scalding at several points along the stream edge - the main one being channelled in to a large concrete pool for soaking in.

Unfortunately, we only had time to soak our feet in one of the very small natural pools and have a quick bite to eat before heading off for the ascent of our first pass, the 4760m Arapu Pass.

The track took us past some curious llareta wetlands, the bright green of the cushion plants divided by channels of orange-tinted water, an interesting contrast to the clumps of stumpy white-spined cactus growing amongst the rocks on the slopes next to them.

Leaving the wetlands, we headed closer to the base of the glacier clinging to the northwest face of Ausangate, its surface buckled under the immense pressure of the ice above.

Not long after, we reached the start of the serious climb, turning away from the glacier and upwards, alternating between rocky moraine and green spongy bogs, speckled with tiny alpine flowers and hairy caterpillars that must have had some form of anti-freeze to survive the icy nights above 4400m.

Our pace slowed and our breathing quickened, as we climbed steadily up beneath even more glaciers perched high above us on the mountain flank. Behind us the long snow-topped line of the Cordillera Vilcanota appeared and the glacier-topped peak of 6110m Nevado Collaque Cruz rose majestically above the horizon as we ascended.

Eventually the slope began to round out and the landscape became drier. We had reached the apacheta-lined pass and stopped for a while to chew on a few leaves of coca and take in the superb views of the polychrome barren slopes of Nevado Queullacocha to the north of the pass and the hanging glacier of Cerro Cayco Orjo above.

Leaving the apachetas, we traversed across the northern slopes of the arid spur leading down from Ausangate, before eventually starting to descend again. Ahead lay the saw-toothed profile of Nevado Sorimani; we were about to take a walk on the wild side of the Ausangate massif, entering a world of superb alpine lakes; first the dark waters of Yanacocha (Black Lake), followed by a small tarn-dotted wetland whose still waters reflected the jagged peaks of Sorimani.

The rocky path now lead us down fairly quickly to the stone walls of old llama corral set in a protected cleft below the glaciers of 5800m Señal Nevado Extremo Ausangate, the western-most peak of the massif. It was time for a late lunch and, as we were suffering a little bit of headache and nausea from the high crossing, it seemed a good place to pitch camp.

Nearby a group of vizcachas sported in the rocky outcrops surrounding a small wetland and we relaxed by watching their antics and wandering a short way up the valley to get a closer look at the turquoise waters of Uchuy Pucacocha, set in a bowl beneath an impressive icefall.

It was an icy morning in the shadow of Ausangate; the shallow ponds of the wetland were frozen and the vizcachas watched us shivering in the corral while a cold mist rose up the valley, enveloped us for twenty minutes and then lifted as the cloud layer continued to climb. As quickly as we could, we headed off once again toward Uchuy Pucacocha and the needles of Sorimani, out of the the shadows and into the sunshine that had just reached the lake's surface.

Vizcacha

Andean geese (huallatas) sunning themselves

A second wave of mist began to drift up the valley from below as we crossed the lake's outlet just above a small cascade, climbing up and around a large rocky outcrop towards the needle-like spires of Sorimani. Yamil and Lydia led us along the faint track that traversed a gentle slope leading down to the western edge of the lake; alpacas grazed in the green pastures as mists swirled about the lake's surface beneath the icy gaze of the glaciers of Extremo Ausangate.

Rocky outcrops above the alpaca pastures

Climbing gently around a further rocky outcrop, we reached an area of small tarns set in a green marshy bog. In the still morning air, they reflected the icefall above, tumbling steeply off the flanks of the dark massif. We sat a while to take in this marvellous alpine setting, and could hear the cracks and groans of the moving icefall; the mountain was flexing its muscles.

Reflections of Ausangate in an alpine tarn (sub-title: where Nello lost her watch)

Below these tarns, lay Laguna Jatan Pucacocha, the largest of Ausangate's lakes, while tucked in between it and the base of the icefall was a small morain-banked lake of exquisite turquoise colour. We traversed high across the grassy flats to the south of these lakes, dotted with grazing alpacas, climbing gently as we gradually began to head in a more easterly direction. Slowly the views changed to reveal different aspects of the glaciers and the mountain.

Alpaca-herder's hut above Jatan Pucacocha

Slow climb up to the pass

Laguna Jatan Pucacocha and the western flank of Ausangate

Ahead more glaciers appeared, while above them the pure white snowy cap of the main peak of Ausangate looked down on our passage from 6370m. Behind us the needles of Sorimani appeared even sharper, while to our left, nestled against steep moraine walls, lay Laguna Vinococha with its turquoise green waters, directly beneath the rugged face of Extremo Ausangate.

Laguna Vinicocha

The pure white snows of Ausangate

Lake and mountain panorama

.... and another stretching across above the Pucapunta Pass

The large seracs at the base of the next glacier became more distinct as we slowly pushed on into this magnificent landscape beneath the reddish folds of Cerro Ausangate Apacheta - probably a bit more slowly than I would have liked, but I did not seem to be handling the altitude that well - no headaches, but a general lethargy prevailed as we climbed up towards the 4880m Pucapunta Pass.

 

Glacier reaching down to Laguna Vinococha

Icefall and seracs clinging to the rockface

Finally crossing the pass, we were greeted with the magnificent spectacle of the blue-green surface of Laguna Ausangatecocha, far below the icy seracs on the black cliff at its rear. The lake drained out into the green valley of Quebrada Surapampa, whose steep grassy slopes were dotted with hundreds of alpaca. The southern side of the valley was topped by the long red rock ridge of Cerro Zanja Punta, adding a brilliant touch of colour to the scene.

We descended the 200m to a field near to the lake for a long break in the midday sunshine before lunch. We would need all the energy that we could summon as the next pass was another 450m above us and would take us above 5000m for the first time ever.

Reluctantly we set off, slow steps and small steps, finding a rhythm for our breath, to climb gently at first and then more steeply; above the lake moraine, above the seracs and finally above the pastures into a strange desert of coloured clay. Less than two hours later we slowly crested the apacheta-lined ridge of Palomani Pass, a time for congratulations and team photos as, at 5120m, we had reached our new high point on Planet Earth.

Cecilio, Silverio and the horses heading up the pass

View to the east from the top of the Palomani Pass

We did not stay long as a cold wind whipped across the pass and the clouds had been building up during our ascent. Once over the other side, a whole new world opened up; new glaciers, new peaks and new valleys.

One of the few flowering plants above 5000m

The descent was rapid, first down the barren upper slopes, before cushion plants, mountain daisies and low cacti began to appear and finally eroded pastures and well-trodden tracks - we were back in alpaca country! From a ridge we looked down on the stone building of Ausangate Base Camp, used by mountaineers and ice climbers, before heading off towards the south-east.

The team on top of 5120m Palomani Pass

Starting the descent of the barren east side of the pass

We eventually reached the valley floor, following it down, past several stone huts and through a narrow gap to reach the community of Finaya with its scattered stone huts, corrals and water canals. The campsite was already set up, in a sheltered end of the high valley (4470m) between a jumble of pink lichen-covered boulders and a cold mountain stream.