Her.

I had not expected to meet her or anyone for that matter. I aim to temper my expectations before a night out, an adventure, or even a yoga class. I was so absorbed in the idea of spending time with a close friend and embarking on a challenging trek that her sudden appearance caught me off guard.

After spending the previous week alone in Buenos Aires, I felt excitement, knowing my friend Andrew (a different Andrew) would be joining me in Peru for the 4-day/3-night Inca Trail hike. I felt some nerves about the trek since it was well beyond my comfort zone.

I had never slept in a tent before, and I hoped my chicken legs would hold up during the ascent of Dead Women’s Pass. Oh ya, let’s not forget the elevation too. The summit of the mentioned Dead Women’s Pass stands at 4,215m (13,828 ft), a remarkable 2.6 times higher than Denver, CO.

On the other hand, Andrew, known on the trail as “the locomotive,”* was well within his lane. I routinely referred to Andrew as Samwise on this journey as our group adopted a Fellowship mentality. For better or worse, that cast me in the role of Frodo. Somewhere, my friend Eddie is chuckling, as my main character syndrome made an appearance in the previous sentence.

The night before we set off on the trail, we met the rest of the Fellowship and our G Adventures guides for a briefing. P.S., I 1000% recommend using G Adventures if you’re planning to do the Inca Trail. (Shoutout to Hollie). Warren, one of two guides, walked us through each day’s events, the duration and elevation gains, meal times, Inca sites we’d visit, and suggestions for packing our 7kg limit duffle.

He showed us pictures of the sites and we briefly met the rest of the Fellowship. In total, our group consisted of 16 individuals: two Norwegian families, university students from the UK, an Australian couple, and Andrew and me as the sole Americans. Even if it was just a fleeting moment during the briefing, her beauty captured my attention, and a connection was established.

The first day started at 5:30am as we took a 45 minute bus ride to breakfast and subsequently the entrance of the trail (”Kilometer 82”). The group was mostly quiet during this gradual ascent, sticking with their companions. This made sense to me. Personally, I experienced a touch of sensory overload as we traversed the Quechua valleys, admired the peaks of the Nevado Veronica mountain, and followed the energy of the Urubamba River as we reached the first basecamp.

During the golden hour, our red tents were bathed in warm light, nestled amidst a sprinkle of green grass and trees, sheltered by the surrounding mountain ranges. It was a sight entirely new to me. It felt as though Mother Nature was guarding us in multiple ways. I had never witnessed anything like it—a ‘wow’ moment among countless others that week.

The evenings at the basecamp were where I was able to spend intentional time with her. During the hours of trekking during the daylight, I was usually in the back of the Fellowship, as Frodo does. My gaze was fixed on my feet, ensuring a safe passage along the rugged path.

Moments of stillness, whether within the tent or during group dinners, provided the opportunity to listen to her stories and forge a deeper connection.

Her narratives were steeped in history, victories, and setbacks, worn openly and unapologetically. At that moment, I understood the essence of natural beauty. On the contrary, I have a tendency to embrace a chameleon-like personality to blend in with different groups. It’s successfully worked as a defense mechanism for me over the years, especially living in the South, but I am intentionally trying to bridge the gap between my internal and external perception. I hope for others to perceive what I do when I gaze in the mirror, and my interactions with her during this journey will further fuel this aspiration. I want to thank my friend, Bre, for helping come to this realization a few months ago.

The following day’s climb to Dead Women’s Pass posed the most significant physical and mental challenge I had faced in my three decades. That’s not saying much, but still. It was hours of a vertical climb to the peak with each breathe feeling more difficult than the last as the elevation ticked closer to 4,000 meters. Your boy had to take multiple breaks, replenishing with Oreos and Wild Berry Skittles, buoyed by Andrew’s encouraging words. Andrew once asked me what I was thinking about. I told him I was thinking about the next step. He advised me to lift my gaze to the world above, to tune in to the chatter of hummingbirds, the whisper of the wind, and all that the trail bestowed. Well, he said something like that. Holding her smile in my thoughts throughout the ascent, the gentle melody of trickling water guided me to the summit.

Naturally, when I reached the top, there she was, seemingly waiting for me with all her elegance. I had never seen anything seen so beautiful in that exact moment. Perhaps a touch of recency bias played a role, or maybe it was the culmination of conquering one of my most substantial challenges just moments earlier. Regardless, I smiled back, and laughed a little, as Andrew and I sat down next to her to give our legs a much needed break. I also savored my last Oreo. It wasn’t even double-stuffed, but those were the best Oreos I’ve ever tasted.

As we rested at the summit, I learned more about her short, yet storied past – all the people she had met, lives she had touched, and aspirations for the future. This made me contemplate my future and the uncertainty it holds. Honestly, I wasn’t excited about what lay ahead. Even with all my friends telling me about the amazing opportunity I have with a blank slate, I was truthfully fulfilled with the life I was creating in the Music City. Yes, it was not perfect, but it was good enough for me. Hindsight once again proves 20/20 with that previous admission. To have that slip through my fingers continues to keep me awake at night. However, as I interacted with her and the rest of the Fellowship, I recognized that everyone’s story evolves, often diverging from their expectations as they reflect on their present circumstances.

Regaining my breath and as the group readies for the next phase of the day’s journey, I take a deep breath, put that uncertainty behind, and follow her energy to basecamp.

Basecamp each night was undoubtedly the highlight of the trip. First, it was all novel to me. As I mentioned before, I had never slept in a tent, so I felt like a kid at summer camp as we sat around our tents, playing card games, conversing about the day’s journey, and what lay ahead for us tomorrow.

After dinner, everyone said there goodnights as we strolled back to our tents. As I took one more glance at the stars, I felt her presence once more.

The third day of the trail became my favorite part of the journey. Riding the high from the previous day’s ascent to Dead Women’s Pass, I felt invigorated. On this day, we traveled 16km over the ten or so hours of hiking. We stopped for lunch amongst the clouds and indulged in a feast including egg salad bites, soup, fried rice, chicken tendies, a vegetable medley, mushroom ceviche, grilled steak and pizza. OH, and let’s not forget the cake the chef miraculously conjured for us. A feast amidst the clouds. Needless to say, we all had smiles from ear to ear.

The day’s adventure took us through three Inca sites (Sayacmarca, Puyupatamarca, and Wiñay Wayna.) We even turned the corner on the trail and were greeted by a crew of Alpacas going the other way.

Additionally, a special part of the day was passing in and out of the cloud forest. Every time we ventured through the cloud forest, the volume of the outside world would lower to just the voices of the birds and the delicate steps of the mysterious insects traversing the terrain. The temperature would drop, and a refreshing mist would grace our faces, akin to the sensation you experience in your favorite theme park.

That evening, basecamp vibes were at their highest. By now, the Fellowship’s bond had grown strong. At this point, we shared our histories, discovered commonalities, and broke bread more times this week than I have had with some of closest friends over the past five years. To top it off that evening, I led the group through a brief yoga and breathwork class (putting my RYT-200 certification to use).

We then shared our experience with yoga and the importance of being aware of our breath as we navigate not only the trail but also the obstacles that our daily lives bring us. The Fellowship had diverse backgrounds, including BCG consultants, PhDs, product executives, students, and the unemployed (that’s me). This made for a fascinating discussion about how each of us manages stress and anxiety in our lives.

The third evening at basecamp arrived with an early night, as our alarms were primed for 3:30am, heralding the journey to The Sungate and the Machu Picchu site. An understatement to say excitement filled the air.

Andrew and I hardly slept due to a blend of excitement and the tent’s sauna-like conditions. We also were beginning to stink, bad. Nevertheless, getting up, getting dressed, and preparing our day packs for “the day” was surprisingly easy.

We sat outside the gates that led to The Sungate for an hour before the park opened. We were joined by the other hiking groups, many of whom we had seen throughout the week. I took my morning meditation during this time. As I sat there, I felt a sense of gratitude for the scenes, connections, and even the pain that transpired over the past few days.

The gates opened around 5:30am. The energy was palpable, not only from people’s excitement, evident in their springy steps, but also from the sounds of the awakening wildlife.

The moonlight guided the way during the first 45 minutes of the trek as we inched closer to the gate. We paused often to appreciate the beauty of the purplish-blue sky against the mountains.

We then climbed 100 steps, as if on a stair stepper, though this time a fall could lead to toppling hikers below. I believe at this moment, I finally overcame my fear of heights as we reached stair number 100. Miguel, the main guide, then led us in a 15-minute sprint to The Sungate. Only days before, I would have stopped multiple times during this 15 minute circuit, but my mind and body had gained such strength in only a short amount of time, allowing me to cruise to The Sungate.

The Sungate serves as Machu Picchu’s main entrance. We were close. We sat at the top for a few minutes, took pictures, and ate out our cheese sandwiches.

We took our final 20-minute trek and reached Macchu Picchu. We were humbly blessed with a perfect morning. It was 715am at this time and we reached our destination with clear blue skies just before the sunrise hit the site.

Perched on a grassy bed, we gazed upon Machu Picchu while Miguel delved into the history of this renowned site. Admittedly, I didn’t hear one word Miguel said and was completely absorbed in the site and the sense of accomplishment for finally reaching our destination. And ofcourse, I was thinking of her.

Her name is Pachamama (”Earth Mother”), as Miguel emphasized repeatedly during the week. But to many of us, we refer to her as Mother Nature. The Inca Goddess, an everlasting deity, presides over life on our Earth. I felt her instantly from the PowerPoint slide pictures during the brief and then throughout the week from her smiling sunshine, her nurturing strength in the mountains, her heartbeat from the trickling water streams, and everything in between.

I later discovered that the central ritual to Pachamama is the Challa, which also happens to be my last name. You can’t script that.

Pachamama radiates beauty and symbolizes an enduring connection that accompanies us, regardless of our location. It reminds me of what Dario said in Buenos Aires: the transformative power of love that remains with us. If your love for someone is powerful, like that of Pachamama, it will stay with you forever – even when the relationship ends, or in this case, when the trail ends.

Over the past few months, I have been doubling down on myself, aiming to heal my inner child and reconnect with myself. One of those practices has been attending a few reiki healing sessions while back home in Virginia. A form of energy healing that originated in Japan in the early 20th century.

During a conversation with the practitioner about my upcoming travels, she recommended spending as much time as possible in nature, as it would benefit me. I’ve kept that top of mind when deciding between destinations and daily adventures. From morning runs on the beach, vinyasa classes in rice fields, and sunrise volcano hikes, I’ve been fortunate to be surrounded by Mother Nature’s power and presence throughout my travels.

Pachamama has truly been a source of healing throughout my journey. She taught me numerous lessons: embracing my inherent beauty, pushing my boundaries, and cultivating an open mind.

We bid farewell to the Fellowship that evening, but thankfully, we don’t need to say goodbye to her. Pachamama’s most profound lesson to me is that I’m never truly alone. Regardless of my location or life circumstances, it’s comforting to know that her love, strength, and presence will always be with me.

*Andrew bestowed upon me the trail name ‘Mr. Worldwide,’ a title I graciously embraced.