To be honest, hiking through Salkantay seemed easy on paper, because the map on paper was not drawn to scale. The map lied to me and left me with crippling pain and trust issues. Despite all of this, I have survived. Not figuratively getting through this five-day hike, but literally surviving with my life.

My journey starts with my flight to Cusco. Historically, with long legs, flights help others but handicap me. When your knees are pressed against the seat in front of you, you almost feel as if your legs are gone and are replaced with meaningless sausage appendages and onset arthritis. My flight was uncomfortable in more ways than one. An 80-year-old man, with severe halitosis, breathed with his mouth open the entire 6-hour flight. As a future dentist, I am sad that this poor man hasn’t received the oral healthcare he needs. As a human, I couldn’t sleep.

It was a few hours before where I also realized that my sister had missed her bag check-in. Meaning, she would arrive to Peru in one piece, but the equipment she needed to survive would be stuck in LaGuardia. After calls with shitty customer service and the impossible workers of LGA, she was rebooked and on her way. LaGuardia: consistently delivering the worst possible outcome in the most efficient way.

After a long time in an airplane and an excruciating time for my nose, my group of travelers and I made our way to the hotel in Lima. Our flight the next morning to Cusco was very early, so getting to bed soon was crucial for our sleep schedules. Unfortunately, due to issues with voltage differences, hair dryers may have started smoking. The hair dryer may have ended up in an incorrect, flammable disposal area. I am not elaborating further for legal reasons. But by 1 AM, we were asleep.

The flight to Cusco is where the group and my sister reunited. From landing and exploring the city, I had realized that the United States was getting shit on by a more beautiful, superior landscape. They say that you get used to your environment, but I think I would choose cool architecture over Times Square Elmo and Detroit any day. We explored the city for the rest of the day, with plans to go explore outside Cusco city the following day.

The hotel we stayed at was beautiful, made with traditional architecture and possible asbestos on the ceiling. At breakfast, I realized how important tea culture was to Cuzcanians. Since I wanted to embrace the culture, I drank a bottle’s worth of tea from coca leaves. Leaves that would help me with the altitude differences between here and home. Speaking of cocaine, the coca leaves in the tea I drank earlier are the herb used to produce pure cocaine. I ended up drinking so much tea that I had essentially reached the minimum dose of hallucinogens to cause stomach pain and for it to be visible in my blood as cocaine. I drank cocaine tea. I would like to clarify, for my dental school admissions office, that this was cultural immersion.

Our tour guide, Maurice, came to pick us up at 6 AM. We traveled to different historical sites in Cusco, like Ollantaytambo, salt mines, villages for dyeing textiles, and laboratory farm sites used by ancient Incans. Seeing how advanced these ancient civilizations were made me realize how easy it was to become famous for being smart back then. If I had invented putting logs underneath stone to roll them to other piles of stones, I would be undeniably rich and famous. If smallpox didn’t exist and I could be reborn in a different time period, take me to Peru pre-colonization.

It is also during this travel that I realized that there were so many horses, guinea pigs, a national delicacy, trees, and grass around. The funny thing about this list is I am allergic to all of them. I am allergic to my vacation. While traveling, I still had intense stomach pain. Pain that felt permanent and never ending. After a long day, I got back to the hotel, ready to eat dinner and sleep. The next morning, even after thinking my stomach pain had cleared my system, it had returned, like the IRS to my savings account.

We met our hike guide and our hiking group, consisting of our group of four, a Polish-Egyptian couple, a German couple, and two Canadians, not a couple. I didn’t know it then, but these diverse and seemingly unrelated group of people are some of the nicest, coolest people I have ever met.

So the ten of us, and our tour guide, Carlos, hopped in a van to begin our ascent to Humantay Lake and our first campsite from Chalaacancha. Within the first thirty minutes of our hike, I had somewhat regretted my decision of coming on this trip. The almost 80-degree incline walk up a mountain had me questioning whether a horse could carry me to the finish line. And the thought of horses carrying me to the end did cross my mind, but since I am allergic to horses, it was either I die trying or die trying to take the easy way out. I had been training on the Stair Master for months, but imagine the Stair Master for 8–13 hours a day. If you think this was easy, you must have also drank too much cocaine tea.

But through this physical shared pain, my group and I became a close-knit familia. We hiked together, ate together. We went to the bathroom separately, but the smell still connected us. We made it to base camp #1, at the bottom of Humantay Mountain. We reached the campsite after 3.5 hours of hiking. However, to see the lake atop the mountain required another 4 hours round trip. So after lunch, and eating snake that tastes like fish, we departed up the mountain.

To shock my body with such cold temperatures, as well as brutally abusing my knees and quads, had essentially reminded me that no matter how hard I try to push myself, I will always be second place to a 73-year-old Peruvian woman in flip-flops. She was not even breathing hard. She may not have been breathing at all. We reached the top of the mountain broken in spirit, but I think that the view was worth every second. After taking pictures to brag to my friends that I touched beautiful Peruvian grass, Carlos told us that we must pray to Pachamama, or Mother Earth. He said that we must carry rocks from Humantay Lake to Salkantay Mountain to then ask Pachamama for safe passage to Machu Picchu. He also said that the bigger the rock we take, the bigger the wish we get when we place it down. I took a big rock. I took the biggest rock I could find. I have never let humility get in the way of ambition. The caveat is we must carry this rock in our backpacks up the mountain, which in my case added 8–9 pounds on top of my estimated 25-pound backpack. With huge ego comes huge repercussions.

That night after dinner, the hut we were staying in dropped below zero. To keep warm, Carlos and the lovely cooks gave us warm water pouches to keep underneath our shirts. I was not warm. I felt sick the next morning. And following us from camp to camp was an army of horses. They were mocking me.

Day two started with a 5-hour hike up to 15,200 feet. An altitude that deprived me of oxygen and eliminated the last of my brain cells. This trek was physically challenging and mentally draining. It felt as though we were climbing for hours longer than we actually had been. Because it was getting chilly, and I didn’t want to chance the rest of my hike with catching a cold, I went ahead of my group and Carlos to reach the sunlight. Once again, I am stupid.

On the mountain, there is plenty of water flow. I thought that hiking across these mountains should be easy. While walking past this half-frozen waterfall, a rock slipped out of the ice that should have held it. My ankle rolled, and before I knew it, I felt like this:

I make it sound fun, but below me was at least 8 stories of free fall towards rocks. The bottom half of my body was hanging over the edge of the waterfall, and with the ice, I got to a point where half my torso was also off the ledge. Having gloves on, my fingers couldn’t get a good grip on rock to pull myself up. On top of this, my backpack, with the help of Pachamama’s offering, had been weighing me down. Pachamama tried to kill me. On top of this weight, I had also packed meals for all 5 days of this hike. I have never regretted packing protein bars more in my life.

For the first time in my life, I felt fight or flight. So much adrenaline rushed through my system that I couldn’t think straight. Some people think about their family, their life, or their kids before they die. I thought about how I missed processed foods and how I need to appreciate my life a little bit more and the people I love. I got halfway there. I found a grip within my fingers to pull myself up. I lay back flat in the water for a minute. I then remembered how cold I was, so I started hiking again. Most people need therapy after a near-death experience. I needed dry socks. I never fully realized how close I was to dying until a few hours later.

I noticed after a while I started losing energy. My sister marched on ahead, and in an attempt to catch up to her, I started sprinting on the mountain. Bad idea for my stamina and my ego. A little bit later, we reached the summit. The highest point of our hike. We lay here to take a break and to place down our offerings. Given that I almost died trying to deliver this offering, instead of one wish, I asked for three really shallow and selfish wishes. I feel this was fair. Pachamama disagreed, as we will see shortly.

From this point onwards to base camp #2, we were hiking downhill. At first, gravity did its thing. I was flying. It wasn’t till my ankles started rolling, asses started falling, and knees started to pain that I realized that I preferred the waterfall. While hiking down, I passed by a pasture of cows. Unbeknownst to me, cows are aggressive creatures. I assumed because they eat grass and are vegetarian, they are docile and weak. Wrong on both counts. I got too close to a particular cow. We stared at each other, and he sneezed. Except it wasn’t a sneeze, and he was ready to start charging at me. I didn’t realize this and started laughing. He “sneezed” a second time. Then it started jogging towards me. I realized I had made an error in perceptual and cattle social aptitude. This is what I get for asking for three wishes instead of one.

We made it to lunch, but not before our group of four, with the exception of one, all fell down either on the mountain or in a river. After lunch was the start of our hike through the Amazon Rainforest. At this point in time, I felt like my blood was composed of 80% sunscreen, 20% bug spray, and a little residual cocaine.

After 7 more hours of hiking through the Amazon, we arrived at our next campsite. After applying enough bug spray to eradicate malaria, we ate dinner and went to sleep. The next morning, we started at 4:30 AM down to 6,000 feet of altitude. Along the way, we stopped on a mountain field and played a round of soccer. Something about running around frolicking on a field made me feel like Walter Mitty. I do what I want without responsibility. Then I realized that my heart couldn’t keep up with my ambition. I could have made it pro. Joke.

After hiking down some more and crossing an unusually shaky suspension bridge, a structure that felt engineered specifically to test whether you wanted to live, we made it to the flats. I could tell our guide was getting tired. He prides himself on hiking fast. 2 hours later, he called our car early to take us to the nearest village. Carlos, I know you were tired. I know you are reading this. I am the mountain king, Carlos.

At this small village, I was able to grind and roast coffee. After this, we were transported to our next campsite, where lots of insects and a particularly dangerous creature awaited us: the flying ant. Sometimes some species need to go extinct. I am not an extremist. But I am also not wrong.

Day three was short. This is because Pachamama wanted us to rest for day four, by far the most horrific day for our feet and, for me, my ass.

Day four consisted of us walking through mountains and jungles for 12 hours. Around halfway, Carlos challenged me to sprint down a mountain. The record time ever set was 16 minutes. He said that no one in his group has ever made it down sub-30. He said if I made it down in 25 minutes, he would buy me a drink. I made it down in 26 minutes. One minute. I am still grieving. After three falls and many rolled ankles, I was dubbed the mountain king by the old timer himself. My LinkedIn followers are not ready for this update.

The last three hours of this hike were alongside rocky train tracks. In the beginning of this hike, there was a bridge. Within the rails were small planks and wide holes dropping down into a very fast flowing river. I didn’t realize that right next to the tracks was a walkway to hike on. I started jumping between these planks. I felt myself lose my balance plenty of times. At this point, I started realizing that maybe I need a caretaker to help me make informed decisions. A licensed one with liability insurance.

After what felt like forever hiking, we reached the hotel where we had a last dinner with our tour group, where Carlos bought me my pity drink.

Day five, my legs were in pain, but experiencing Machu Picchu took my mind away from the pain, for a few hours. At first, there was a lot of fog, but after Carlos offered Pachamama a Diet Coke, she cleared the way for the most breathtaking view of the ruins. Who knew Pachamama was American.

I am now on my ride back. Peru killed me. Almost. But I realized a lot on this trip. I appreciate my position in life. My privilege. My access to Chipotle whenever I want. I have no regrets. The best vacation I have ever been on. Five stars. Would almost die again.