Long before hiking boots, GPS watches, and dehydrated meals existed, the Andes were crossed by people who moved fast, light, and with purpose. No pack animals. No cheeky shortcuts. No “altitude adjustment days.” Just lungs, legs, and an empire that needed to be connected.
These were the Chaskis, aka elite Inca messengers who carried information, orders, and sacred items across some of the most dramatic terrain on Earth. And one of their most demanding routes ran between two giants of the Inca world: Choquequirao and Machu Picchu.
Today, this journey is considered one of the most challenging and rewarding treks in South America. Back then? It was just another workday, involving cloud forests, glacial passes, and heart-thumping altitude.
So what was it really like to travel between Choquequirao and Machu Picchu in Inca times? Let’s strip away the romance, keep the awe, and walk this route the way history intended: step by breathless step.
Table of Contents
First, Who Were The Chaskis (And Why Were They So Important)?
The Inca Empire didn’t use written language in the way Europeans did. Instead, information moved through people, specifically, highly trained runners known as Chaskis.
These messengers:
- Ran in relays across the empire
- Covered vast distances daily
- Carried verbal messages, quipus (knotted cords), and small goods
- Operated on precision timing and physical endurance
Think of them as the original express delivery service, minus the vans, plus a 14,000-foot mountain pass.
Between Choquequirao and Machu Picchu, Chaskis weren’t just delivering gossip or shopping lists. They were moving high-level intelligence, including military orders, ceremonial schedules, political news, and information that kept the empire pieced together.
The Route Wasn’t “Scenic”, It Was Strategic
Today, hikers tell their friends about views, photo angles, and sunrise moments. For the Inca, the landscape was a network, not a backdrop.
The route between Choquequirao and Machu Picchu followed sections of the Qhapaq Ñan, the vast Inca road system that stretched over 25,000 miles. Their roads were engineered, not accidental, carved into cliffs, reinforced with stone, and designed to function in every climate imaginable. Seriously, the weather in the Andes is changeable at a pretty impressive rate.
This wasn’t a casual stroll between ruins. It was a deliberate, high-altitude pathway connecting political, ceremonial, and agricultural centers.
And it was brutal.
Let’s Talk Elevation (Because The Andes Don’t Mess Around)
Modern trekkers often underestimate just how hard this terrain hits. The Choquequirao to Machu Picchu route doesn’t ease you in. Instead, it throws you straight into deep valleys and high passes.
Chaskis dealt with:
- Massive elevation drops into river canyons
- Immediate climbs back up (often hundreds of feet at once)
- Thin air, unpredictable weather, and extreme sun exposure
Unlike us, they had no acclimatization days. No electrolytes. No trekking poles.
Instead, they trained from a young age, developed enormous lung capacity, and learned to pace themselves with near-military precision. Waystations called tambos allowed them to hand off messages, rest briefly, and keep information moving fast.
Speed mattered. Delay wasn’t an option.
Choquequirao: The Starting Point That Already Tested Limits
Even today, reaching Choquequirao is no joke. The site sits high above the Apurímac River, guarded by steep slopes and long approaches.
For Chaskis, Choquequirao wasn’t just a destination; it was a starting point. Leaving meant descending into deep, hot canyons before clawing back up toward cooler, higher ground.
The heat at lower elevations could be punishing. Then came the cold. Then rain. Then burning hot sun again.
This constant environmental whiplash wasn’t just an inconvenience. It was dangerous. Footing mattered. Endurance mattered. One mistake could end the mission (and a life).
No One Walked This For Fun
Modern trekkers choose this route for adventure, challenge, and bragging rights. Chaskis didn’t have that luxury.
They carried:
- Messages that had to be delivered intact and accurately
- Sacred items that couldn’t be lost
- Responsibilities that affected entire communities
There was no stopping early because their legs felt tired. No going another way for better views. No opting out.
The road demanded respect and absolute focus.
The Andes Were Alive (Spiritually, Not Metaphorically)
For the Inca, mountains weren’t just mountains. They were Apus, meaning they saw them as living spirits that governed weather, crops, and human fate.
Traveling between Choquequirao and Machu Picchu meant moving through a spiritually charged landscape. Every pass, river, and peak they covered carried meaning.
Before journeys, offerings were made. Respect wasn’t symbolic; it was survival logic. Anger the mountains, and the mountains would answer.
This spiritual awareness added another layer to the journey. The routes weren’t conquered. They were negotiated.
Weather Didn’t Care About Schedules
One of the biggest myths about ancient travel is that it was somehow simpler. It really wasn’t. At all.
Rain could wash out sections of the trail. Fog could erase visibility. Snow could turn a pass into a wall.
Chaskis learned to read the sky the way modern hikers read forecasts. Moving clouds, wind shifts, and bird behavior were all signs that helped them decide the pace and proceed with caution.
Unlike today, there was no waiting it out with a hot drink and a down jacket. Movement was often the safest option. And the warmest.
Food, Fuel, And The Reality Of Energy Management
Chaskis didn’t snack casually. Food was functional.
They consumed:
- Dried maize
- Potatoes
- Ch’arki (dried meat)
- Coca leaves to manage fatigue and altitude
Meals were light, efficient, and designed to sustain long output rather than comfort.
Every ounce mattered. Carrying too much meant speed suffered. Carrying too little meant performance collapsed.
Energy management was a skill and a survival requirement.
Machu Picchu Wasn’t The “Finish Line”
Arriving at Machu Picchu wasn’t about celebration like it is today. It was about delivery.
The city functioned as a royal estate and ceremonial hub, not a tourist magnet. Messages arriving there influenced rituals, governance, and imperial decisions.
The Chaski’s job ended only when information reached the right ears, accurately, clearly, and on time.
Then? Rest briefly. Possibly turn around. Possibly head somewhere else entirely.
The road was always in use.
What Modern Trekkers Feel And Why It Still Matters
Today, hikers tackling the Choquequirao to Machu Picchu trek often describe moments of awe mixed with exhaustion, humility, and disbelief.
That feeling? It’s not accidental.
The terrain hasn’t softened. The climbs haven’t shrunk. The distances still demand respect.
Walking this route today offers something rare. It’s a physical connection to how the Andes were used, not just admired.
Each step you take echoes with intent.
Why This Journey Still Hits So Hard
There’s a reason this route feels different from other treks. It’s not just the isolation or the challenge.
It’s the sense that this path once mattered deeply.
Not symbolically. Practically. Politically. Spiritually.
Following in the footsteps of the Chaskis isn’t about reenacting history. It’s about understanding it through effort. Through sweat. Through breathlessness at altitude.
And maybe that’s why finishing this journey still feels transformational. The road demands something and provides clarity in return.
The Andes Remember
Long after empires fade, the mountains remain. The paths endure. And the effort required to cross them hasn’t changed much at all.
Traveling between Choquequirao and Machu Picchu was never easy. It wasn’t meant to be.
It was meant to connect worlds and to test the people brave enough to carry that connection forward.
Some things are timeless like that.
So, when you walk these paths and start to struggle, remember those Chaskis, all those hundreds of years ago, and what they went through. It’s hard, but it’s humbling.
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