Inca Trail Challenge

The Day I Almost Quit the Inca Trail (But Didn’t)

By Hannah Greer
A brutally honest look at pushing through exhaustion on Peru’s famous path.

Day One: The Excitement Before the Storm

I had dreamed about the Inca Trail for years. The iconic path winding through the Peruvian Andes, tracing the footsteps of an ancient civilization, ending in the mythical stone city of Machu Picchu—it was the kind of bucket list journey that seemed equal parts romantic and mythical.

When I arrived in Cusco a few days before the trek, I felt ready. I’d hiked before. I had the gear. I’d trained for months, running stairs, going on multi-day treks, breaking in my boots. I was prepared. Or so I thought.

Day one started off gently enough. Our small group of eight, led by a guide named Emilio, laughed and took photos of the lush countryside as we passed small Quechua villages. I was soaking it all in—the eucalyptus-scented air, the smiling children, the thundering Urubamba River.

But just as the sun dipped behind the mountains, fatigue crept in. My pack, which had felt light that morning, was now pulling at my shoulders. My legs felt tight. I kept telling myself, “It’s just the altitude. Tomorrow will be better.”

Day Two: Dead Woman’s Pass and the Breaking Point

They say day two is the hardest. And they’re right. It’s the day you climb to Dead Woman’s Pass, reaching an altitude of over 4,200 meters (13,800 feet). It’s steep. It’s rocky. And it feels like it never ends.

I woke up before dawn to frost on the tent and a headache pounding behind my eyes. Emilio offered me coca tea and an encouraging smile, but by mid-morning, I was struggling. Each step felt like dragging cement blocks. My lungs couldn’t find enough air. I stopped every few minutes, pretending to take photos just so I could catch my breath without looking weak.

At one point, halfway up the pass, I sat on a boulder, dizzy and on the verge of tears. My legs were shaking. My confidence had evaporated. I looked at the mountain towering above me and whispered, “I can’t do this.”

A woman in our group, Maya, paused beside me. She said nothing. She just placed a chocolate bar in my hand and sat down next to me. We shared the silence. We shared the chocolate. And then—slowly—we stood up and kept walking.

The Moment I Almost Turned Back

I don’t know exactly when I decided not to quit. Maybe it was the moment I looked up and saw Maya ahead of me, waving from the top of the pass. Maybe it was the moment I heard Emilio’s voice echo down with, “Only 100 more steps!” (which turned out to be a lie). Or maybe it was the sheer stubbornness that kicked in when I realized I didn’t come all this way to turn around.

But let me be honest—there was a moment when I almost told Emilio I was done. That I’d go back with a porter. That I’d take the train to Machu Picchu and pretend I’d made the hike.

Instead, I gritted my teeth, screamed silently into the wind, and kept moving.

When I finally reached the top of Dead Woman’s Pass, I collapsed onto the ground, tears spilling down my face. But they weren’t tears of defeat. They were release. Relief. Pride.

The Power of One More Step

What no one tells you about the Inca Trail is that it’s not about how fit you are. It’s about your mindset. Your willingness to take one more step when your body says no. Your ability to breathe through fear, pain, and doubt.

Day three was long but beautiful—undulating paths through cloud forests and Incan ruins, surrounded by mist and orchids. I was sore but stronger. I had survived the pass, and that gave me a strange confidence. I began to appreciate the journey, not just endure it. I began to see the trail—the stone steps carved centuries ago, the moss-covered walls, the valleys that rolled out like green carpets.

It wasn’t just a hike anymore. It was a pilgrimage.

The Final Stretch and What It Gave Me

On the last morning, we woke at 3:30 AM to hike the final stretch to the Sun Gate before sunrise. My legs protested. My shoulders ached. But my heart was full.

As we reached the Sun Gate and caught our first glimpse of Machu Picchu bathed in morning light, I stood still. The ancient city glowed gold, cradled by mountains and shrouded in thin mist. I felt like I had walked not just through history, but into myself.

I thought back to that rock on day two, where I nearly quit. And I whispered thank you—to Maya, to Emilio, to the mountain, and most of all, to the part of me that kept going.

You Don’t Have to Be Strong, Just Stubborn

The Inca Trail taught me that strength isn’t about pushing harder. It’s about not stopping. It’s about allowing yourself to cry, to rest, and then to rise again.

If you’re thinking of doing the Inca Trail, do it. And if you reach a moment where you feel like quitting—know that you’re not alone. Know that the next step might be the one that changes everything.

Because the moment you almost quit, but didn’t? That’s the one you’ll remember forever.

Have you ever pushed through something you thought you couldn’t finish? Share your story or tag @AffordableJourney with #AlmostQuitButDidnt.