Day 26: Laguna 531

Hiking: 9.4 mi / 3000 ft. climbing
Home: Nancy’s AirBNB

We’ve ascended to glacial lakes in Peru’s Cordillera Blanca mountain range by a couple of different methods: group tours (Paron, 69) and completely-independent bike-and-hike (Churup). Our fourth (and likely final) ascent, to Laguna 513, was a bit different. For some reason, there is no high-volume infrastructure for funneling tourists to Laguna 513 (despite the hike being statistically-similar to super-popular Laguna 69), so we paid for a private excursion. At ~US$100, it was significantly more-expensive than the ~US$22-27 to get the two of us to the other lakes. But we got a pick-up/drop-off directly at our door, comfortable seats in a big SUV, a driver who would close the windows when passing through clouds of dust on the gravel road, and even a soundtrack that barely would have been better had I curated it myself (Nightwish, Dream Theater, Mago de Oz, Anathema!!)

The lake is much closer to Huaraz than Paron or 69, so even with our relatively-late 6am pickup, we were on the trail before 8am. It also helped that there was no breakfast stop like the Paron/69 tours.

The first mile traversed the flat valley, and without a guide (or anyone else, or a trail worn by thousands of footsteps) to follow, my phone’s GPS following the online trail map kept us atop a small dike, but then eventually led us across some marshy grass where we each submerged our shoes, and thus we began the long hike with wet feet. On the other hand, the valley we would climb was aligned directly with the rising sun, so we had plenty of warmth as we began ascending.

One of the advantages of this hike not being advertised by all the tour companies is that we had the 5 miles and 3000-ft up entirely to ourselves. The “crowds” at the other lakes didn’t actually diminish the experience that much, but the illusion that I’m “discovering” a place this incredible, together with the woman I love, is always worth extra points. I initially felt a bit of rich-white-man’s guilt being alone in this place that everyone in the world deserves to see, thinking that maybe a big part of the extra expense of this hike essentially goes to excluding others, and that we were contributing to closing it off from Peruvians of more-modest incomes. But really, the cost doesn’t seem to be at all demand-driven, in contrast to our time at Many Glacier in Glacier National Park, where low supply and high demand had genuinely driven lodging costs (and thus any hikes there) up to $240/night. The lack of people here really just seems to be a lack of interest, due to the embarrassment of other riches held within these mountains. After all, Peruvians with good language and bargaining skills probably could have gotten to the trailhead far cheaper than us, via colectivos/taxis. And there isn’t even an (official) National Park entrance fee, though there was a guy who collected a local road fee from our driver.

That said, about 10 minutes after we arrived at the lake and started eating lunch, another couple caught up to us. Thankfully they moved to another area, and were quiet enough that we could still easily hear the icefalls that regularly came tumbling down from the glacier into a crevasse at the far end of the lake. But then about eight other people showed up in ones or twos, so apparently someone is now running group tours here! Worse, we told our driver we’d be back by 2pm, six hours after starting, and we had already used up 2/3rds of that time, so for multiple reasons we headed back down sooner than we would have liked. That said, at least our private transport had allowed us to choose our own departure time, letting us get onto the trail (and all the way back down it) before anyone else, and more-importantly, allowed us to enjoy the lake before the heavier afternoon clouds began rolling over the mountains.

When we got home I solved the mystery of how Laguna 513 can sit entirely-enclosed by high rock walls, in a place where there are streams and waterfalls everywhere, and glacial melt flowing directly into it from above. It can’t just evaporate, right? No, it turns out that the lake level was once 60 feet higher (and thus would flow out over the low point in the wall right where we had been sitting), but it was intentionally-lowered (by cutting a tunnel through the rock) to reduce the risk of a GLOF destroying the town of Carhuaz.

Glacial Lake Outburst Floods occur when huge chunks of glaciers/mountains give way, crash into a lake, and cause a tsunami-like wave that either overtops the containing wall, or blows straight through it. They pose an increasing risk to downstream communities as global warming causes glacial retreat that is constantly both exposing brand-new lakes, and filling existing ones with more water.

In addition to the level-lowering project, Laguna 513 is one of the only lakes in Peru to have a high-tech warning system installed. Following a GLOF in 2010, in collaboration with Swiss organizations, Peru put in a system of cameras and other instruments, along with radio antennas, to give the citizens of Carhuaz a 30-minute warning and a chance to escape to higher ground before a flood tears down the river through their town.

And while no lives were lost in Carhuaz’s 2010 GLOF, it’s far from a theoretical issue. In one article I read from the time of the system’s installation, a manager in Huaraz (the town we’re staying in) said that he was jealous of Carhuaz, since Huaraz also has a lake above it but no warning system. Not only did Huaraz’s lake suffer GLOFs in 1941 (killing 2,000) and 1970 (killing 20,000 and essentially destroying the entire city), a smaller nearby lake (but flowing into the same river) burst just two months ago, killing two people in Huaraz, and destroying homes and infrastructure, including the bridge that turned one of our loop rides into an out-and-back.

120,000 people now live in Huaraz.

So I’m sure that manager is just as dismayed as I am to learn that 12 years later, not only has no similar system yet been installed to protect his citizens, but much of the Carhuaz warning system was intentionally destroyed! Why? Well, at the end of 2016, no rain fell for the first two months of the rainy season. Rumors spread amongst the local farmers that the detection equipment on the mountain was the cause, and one day, hundreds of angry people walked up the very path that we hiked today, and destroyed it. Yes, in the year 2016, not 1216.

On the one hand, the story gives me a bit of insight into the rural (frequently indigenous) people who manually work the lands that we pass through on the way to these hikes. On the other hand, it suggests that the anti-science direction that our own seemingly-more-advanced culture is turning toward could easily bring us to a similar self-defeating place.

Apparently plans have long been in the works to install a similar detection system to protect the citizens of Huaraz, but Carhuaz’s experience has been one reason why the process is moving so slowly. Another, even stupider reason mentioned in one article, is that the Huaraz tourism companies oppose it (perhaps the very ones we have given our money to!), because they fear that anything that raises awareness of the risks of GLOFs will hurt their business. Jesus.

By hustling down the mountain (taking some shortcuts on the switchbacks, and finding a better route that avoided the marshy areas on the plain), we got back to the start just after 2:30pm where our driver was waiting, so not too far off our estimate.

So how did Laguna 531 compare to Laguna 69? It certainly wasn’t 7.7 times better, as their numbers might suggest, but the fact that it might be even a small bit better than the far-more-popular hike is a bit baffling. The Laguna 69 hike had towering white mountains in every direction (while 531 “only” had Hualcán), multiple levels of flat valley floors, and better waterfalls. But 531 had the forest sections, the grassy trail sections, and far more glacial ice. And the solitude. I took 180 photos at 531 vs. 150 at 69, for whatever that’s worth. I’m certainly glad we were able to do both (thanks Rett for all the arrangements!), so I guess that would be my useless advice: do both!