A Trek Through the Rainbow Mountain

Ausangate, Peru

A sustainable perspective on travel & the Rainbow Mountain path of rediscovery

Written by Nina Karnikowski

---

If you’re looking to fall off the tourist map, to rediscover yourself and to reconnect to the natural world on high mountain passes, then allow yourself to start dreaming about a trek to Peru’s Rainbow Mountain. The five day Ausangate trail that takes you there (known locally as Vinicunca) is as remote as it is mysterious, and is dotted with small Quechua communities that, if you pay careful attention, just might teach you some of the most important lessons in life.

As you hike, with the undulating greens and browns of the valleys below you and the ragged snow-dusted mountain peaks above, you can do as the locals do and listen to the mountains, letting them lead the way. As a Quechua guide told me when I was there, “these mountains are considered deities; we communicate with them and worship them like God”.

You may need the strength of the mountains as you traverse passes of over 5300 metres, where you’ll struggle to breathe the thin air, and feel your heart beat faster than it ever has before. It will be infinitely worth it to hike those tourist-free trails, that weave through windswept pampas smattered with mud-brick abodes, alpaca, viscacha, and centuries-old glaciers.

Along the way you’ll hear tales of the ancient Inca people and their masterful architecture, skillful farming methods and profound respect for natural resources. You’ll also stay in cosy lodges known locally as tambos, built traditionally with vaulted eucalyptus wood ceilings and mud-brick walls, and equipped with solar lamps, open fires, hot water and floor-to-ceiling windows with spectacular views of the mountains and glaciers. These lodges are staffed by members of the local shepherding communities, who you may be lucky enough to observe making offerings to the mountains, just as locals have done since pre-Inca times.

“When we’re going through a high pass, we ask for permission and protection from Mother Earth and the mountains,” my guide told me as I watched one of these rituals unfold, with dried corn, candy, coca leaves and shells being placed on an alpaca pelt. The offering was then wrapped in paper and burnt in a small fire so the message could be taken to the apus, the gods that live in the mountains, and to pachamama, or mother earth.

Thanks to the high altitude, which makes talking and even thinking difficult, you’ll likely feel more present than you ever have, helping you notice all the magic unfolding in front of you. The tiny white wildflowers blooming up from the red earth beneath your feet, that have pushed through rock, snow and ice to find the sun and survive in a climate where little else can, or the variable hawks wheeling overhead. What you won’t see is other travelers; only the occasional local scurrying along the high-altitude paths, their bright outfits visible from a great distance, their presence in the immensity of the landscapes a reminder of your place in the order of things.

When you haul your body over that final mountain pass and glimpse what you’ve trekked all that way to see, you’ll be full of earth praise. Striped turquoise, turmeric, terracotta and dusky rose, from mineral deposits of copper and iron and tin, the Rainbow Mountain is more magnificent than your wildest imaginings. And in that moment, having done that difficult thing, you’ll realise you’re that much more capable of pushing through your limitations, to find the rainbow that might be on the other side.

---