They Say Life Is About the Journey...

Somewhere between the last bite of my egg sandwich in Paucartambo and the moment our bus
driver asked us to get out and walk over a section of road that had suddenly turned into a steep,
crumbling gravel cliffside, it hit me-- this was really happening. I was sitting in a bus with a group
of total strangers, making my way to the Amazon rainforest one nauseating switchback at a
time, and there was no turning back. Up until that moment, I had spent most of the bus ride
dozing off with my face smushed against the window, catching up on the sleep I’d missed from
waking up at 4am that morning. But now, I was wide awake. We walked along the road,
constantly checking back over our shoulders to marvel at the skillful maneuvering of the drivers
as they calmly navigated the hazardous stretch. When they made it safely to the other side we
all breathed a sigh of relief, and let out a smattering of nervous laughter and applause. We had
known it wasn’t going to be a smooth road to Cocha Cashu, but it was starting to dawn on us
what a wild ride it would truly be.

Getting out to walk as the bus drivers took on a tricky stretch of road.

We continued along our way and my eyes remained glued to the window, taking in the rapidly
changing scenery. Sparse, arid mountaintops melted into swirling clouds that the road dipped in
and out of on an ever-winding path, and staggering cliffs dropped down endlessly on the driver’s
side. As we drove, it became clear that we were entering the cloud forest, as vegetation started
to spring up around us and we became increasingly shrouded in a blanket of fog. Before long,
the bus rolled to a stop and we all got out to walk the short distance to the official entrance of
Manu National Park.

Not for the faint of heart-- the road to the lowlands winds precariously around the mountains,
alongside heart-stopping cliffs that plummet into the clouds.

We stood at the entrance looking at the map of the park, our excitement building as we listened
to Ursula share some facts about the park and where we were going. Manu National Park is a
World Cultural Heritage Site, described on the UNESCO website as a “globally renowned haven
of terrestrial biodiversity”, with plant diversity ranging from 2000-5000 species, although
scientists speculate that the actual number is considerably higher. It is considered to be one of
the most pristine areas of the Peruvian Amazon, and there are well over 1000 vertebrate
species, with around 1025 bird species and 221 mammal species, as well as impressive insect
counts with over 1300 butterfly species and 650 beetle species. Those numbers alone made my
head spin, and I couldn’t believe that we were going to be right in the middle of it all, in the
restricted zone of the park nonetheless. Ursula pointed at the general location of Cocha Cashu
which was unmarked on the map, and I followed the path of the winding river with my eyes. We
still had a long way to go.
 The map of Manu National Park, displayed at the official park entrance.

We all climbed back onto the bus, many of us pulling out our Tupperware lunch boxes to refuel
on animal crackers and granadillas. The bus circled down the mountain, and we watched in awe
as the landscape transformed around us. We became surrounded by thick green vegetation on
either side, and the foggy view over the cliffs turned into something straight out of Jurassic Park.
The road became unpaved and bumpy-- gravel at first, then crumbling into muddy ruts and
massive potholes. Every now and then, slim waterfalls would emerge out of the fog, spilling
down the mountainside and splashing into the road, creating watery ditches that the bus had to
maneuver through.
 Slow and steady-- chugging along at 5 kilometers per hour as we made our way through thick
mud, unpaved road, and harsh potholes.

At this point the whole bus was rattling from top to bottom like a shake weight in a blender, and
the display on the front of the bus was a consistent reminder that we were inching along at
around 5-10 kilometres per hour-- about 3-6 mph. Outside, stunning scenery and alien-like
plants stretched out in every direction as far as the eye could see.
An abandoned lodge perches eerily alongside the river on the descent through the cloud forest.

We continued this way for hours, and any sense of time seemed to turn into a distorted relic
from the lives we had left behind in Cusco. Near sundown, we stopped for a much needed
stretch break at a famous lek for Andean Cock-of-the-Rocks, and spent some time wandering
around trying to get a glimpse of the strange national bird of Peru. A lek is an area in which
males of a species (often birds) gather to display, in the hopes of attracting the attention of a
potential mate. Andean Cock-of-the-Rocks (of the cotinga family) are known for their noisy calls
and unique mating dance, as well as their bright red color and extravagant crest. We eventually
spotted three Cock-of-the-Rocks sitting in a tree not too far away. I had never really been one
for bird watching before, but I found myself getting pretty excited to see these crazy birds in
action as they practiced their dances. Afterwards, we got back into the bus and continued to
drive until night fell and a radiant full moon rose up above us. Finally, after 14 hours of driving
we arrived at Atalaya, exhausted and still reeling from all the new experiences of the day. After
dinner, I collapsed into my bed and fell asleep instantly. What felt like minutes later, my alarm
was going off once again, signaling the start of another day of travel.
One of the surprisingly comfortable “glorified canoes” that became our home for two days, fully
stocked with 5-gallon water jugs and a lifetime supply of animal crackers.

After an energizing breakfast, we were ready to start the second portion of our journey: a two-
day boat trip that would take us down the Madre de Dios River and then up the Manu River to
Cocha Cashu. Initially, I was very apprehensive of this part of the journey. What on earth were
we going to do stuck on a boat for two days? However, it quickly became clear that boredom
was not going to be an issue. Even though we traveled for many hours each day, the scenery
never ceased to amaze. Rolling hills covered in endless shades of green vegetation on either
side of the river flattened into dense, level forests with beaches of light-colored stones and tall,
fanning palms. The breeze from the boat was incredibly soothing, and we passed the time bird-
watching and learning how to identify all kinds of birds, from turkey vultures to snowy egrets,
and occasionally stopping on the beaches to look for animal tracks and butterflies.
 Look closely—can you see the moon peeking out over the treetops along the Madre de Dios?

In hindsight, the travel days were some of the most reflective and relaxing days of the entire
trip. Traveling within Manu National Park may be challenging at times, but it is more than worth
it-- after all, the journey is often at least as important as the destination. In fact, the lack of
accessibility plays a big role in keeping the area protected, and keeping the forests pristine.
Building more roads and allowing easier access would only increase current threats to the
biodiversity of the area, such as illegal logging, mining, and hunting. All in all, it seems only fair
that a journey into the Amazon rainforest would be long, difficult, and at times exhausting. As
the saying goes: nothing worth having comes easy!
 Nothing worth having comes easy-- 4:14am on the Manu River.

Sources used in this blog post:

https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/402
https://neotropical.birds.cornell.edu/Species-Account/nb/species/andcot1
Birds of Peru by Clive Byers
https://whc.unesco.org/en/soc/334

Bio:
My name is Lizzy Rylance, and I am a junior at the University of Washington Seattle campus
studying Neurobiology. I love spending most of my free time outdoors (hiking, snowboarding,
camping, mountain biking) as well as attending concerts, reading, cooking, and hanging out with
my dogs.