I Dislocated My Shoulder on This High-Altitude Trek in Peru – I’d 100% Hike it Again

Night falls in the Andes Mountains, Peru. Breathing is difficult and I try not to worry myself too much about the night ahead. As I zip myself into my tent, I take a look around, hoping rather dramatically that it won’t be my last. The mules and horses huddle together close by our camp, steam rising from their breath in the icy air. At 5,000m altitude, the cold grips the darkness the moment the sun’s rays lower their gaze.

It’s peaceful.

There’s no one else here besides our group, and an elderly Peruvian farmer who’s lived in these mountains his entire life.

In the middle of the night my body wakes me up – sounding the alarm – because my oxygen is low. I sit up like a bolt of lightning and take deep breaths, wheezing through the congestion in my chest. My tent buddy sleeps peacefully next to me and I contemplate waking her up, but I don’t. I try to forget what I’ve read about HAPE (higher altitude pulmonary edema), a potentially fatal lung condition that can develop incredibly fast when at altitude. I don’t check my phone for the time, but I know from the all-consuming dark that it won’t be morning for many hours.

Would I end up like this cow we passed on day four?

The Huayhuash Circuit

Before arriving in Peru, I’d never heard of the Huayhuash (pronounced why-wash) Circuit trek. Rather embarrassingly, I didn’t even know Peru had a snow-laden mountainous region. Most of my Peruvian education centred around The Emperor’s New Groove and Machu Picchu.

Peru is geographically very close to the Equator, being in line with Cairns and Papua New Guinea, which in my mind doesn’t conjure images of towering icy peaks, but that’s exactly what you’ll find in certain parts.

The Andes hug the west coast of South America and extend from Chile’s Patagonia in the south to the top of Colombia in the north. At their highest point, the unforgiving Aconcagua in Argentina looms 6,960m high in volcanic stone and ice, with the mountain Huascarán, where the Huayhuash Circuit trek takes place, coming in as the fourth highest peak at 6,768m.

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To put things into perspective, Mont Blanc, the tallest mountain in the European Alps, is only 4,806m. To clarify, the Huayhuash Circuit doesn’t summit Huscaran, the hike loops around the base reaching heights of 5,500m with the glorious peaks of the Cordillera Huayhuash mountains at the centre.

Preparing for the Unknown

Once I heard one of the most beautiful walks in the world was within my reach, I knew I had to do it. I was travelling with my partner through South America, and he wasn’t entirely keen on tackling an eight-day hike, so I headed to Huaraz, the closest town, on my lonesome.

I boarded a night bus from the capital Lima and arrived at my hostel Aldos by morning. I paid extra for a deluxe bus in which the seats recline to a total 180°, and luckily, no one was playing videos on their phone out loud, or talking on the loudspeaker all night, which I discovered over the prior weeks is somewhat of a Peruvian custom.

Checking out a map of the Huayhuash

The Adventure Hub of Peru

Huaraz is very much a base for travellers planning treks. The region is full of incredible day hikes to crystal blue alpine lakes, mountaineering expeditions, and multi-day hikes such as the Santa Cruz trek and, of course the Huayhuash Circuit trek.

At Aldo’s, I recruited a rather rambunctious Canadian, Gabrielle, to do the Laguna 69 day hike with me. When we arrived at the alpine lake, another tourist was flying a drone, and Gabrielle shouted into the sea of people, ‘Can you f*** off with that drone!’, after which the person discreetly landed it, and everyone else was silently thankful that someone said what we were all thinking.

Altitude Sickness Woes

On the four-hour bus ride back from Laguna 69 I started to feel pretty dizzy and nauseous. I threw up on the sidewalk as soon as we arrived back in town and went to bed with a throbbing headache and in total delirium – the altitude had rocked me.

Altitude sickness is a fickle thing. I heard a story of a champion Ironman who ended up on horseback the entire Salkantay Trek because he could barely put one foot in front of the other, while some other travellers skipped acclimatisation, sank numerous beers, and seemed to be okay. For me, I was somewhere in the middle.

Altitude prep on Pico Austria

I prepared as much as possible, slowly ascending over a month, doing day hikes such as Pico Austria at 5,300m, and took Diamox (altitude tablets), which I acquired in Australia from my GP before heading over.

Despite this, I still struggled with some nausea and headaches, and most of all with breathing when trying to haul my ass up a mountain. I was breathing so intensely on the Huayhuash Circuit that I developed altitude onset bronchitis due to constant lung irritation, which of course, made it that much harder to breathe.

The Highs…

On the first day of the Huayhuash Circuit trek I was enraptured by a feeling of awe which stuck with me until the end. The landscape in the beginning was reminiscent of New Zealand with golden grasses and rocky hills.

As I climbed the first pass I slowly became comfortable with the weight of the altitude on my body.

Condors, giant, majestic vultures that can live up to 70 years old, soared above, welcoming us to their land. The skies were an uninterrupted icy blue in both colour and temperature. I knew the snow-capped mountains were near, but they didn’t come into sight until later in the day.

Our group consisted of 11 hikers, a guide, a muleteer, and a cook who took the low route with our packs to arrive at camp early to set up.

Meals On Wheels… Well Actually Mules

The cook was a young Peruvian man, Christian, who made meals for the 14 members of our group with ease. We had warming soups every night, with a main of either fried trout, pasta, or fried rice.

In the mornings, when the sun was yet to rise and frost encased our tents, a hot coca leaf tea, a herbal remedy that has assisted the Andean people with the effects of altitude for centuries, was passed to us while we were still zipped in our tents. It tastes a little like green tea, and gives you a light-headed buzz. But most importantly, it added motivation to get up and move in the cold.

For breakfast, Christian made us scrambled eggs or pancakes. We dined under a large canvas tent where we played Uno and chatted in broken Spanish while we waited.

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

As we climbed higher and nearer to the immense mountains at the centre, the landscape thinned, became harsher and colder, more extreme and more beautiful.

On the third day, we sat by a laguna (alpine lake) and watched the morning sun beat down on the snowcap, sending enormous avalanches of ice down into the lake.

It was good watchin’

On day four, I stood captivated by a monolith glacier frozen in time atop Trapesio Pass, then hiked down through an otherworldly valley of grey stone and scree, polished over millennia by the whipping winds and melting ice. Elated by seeing something so beautiful, and finally walking downhill, I cried a little.

The Lows…

Going with a tour group meant a few things. Primarily for me, safety. Not that I was scared of encountering others on the trail, I was worried about injuring myself or getting sick and being alone.

I did get sick, but I wasn’t the only one. On day four, a member of our group started to fall behind. He stayed at camp to rest while we hiked to San Antonio Mirador so he could start the next day rejuvenated. However, the next day things only got worse.

On day five we reached Huayllapa, the only village you pass through on the hike that’s accessible by road. Four members of our group had organised to end their hike here, and I believe our struggling group member should have stopped here too, but he didn’t.

After spending an hour in town and paying a few soles to use a shower in a local woman’s courtyard, we began the steep climb to Huatiaq, our high-altitude camp for the night.

Alone, the Peru Edition

Almost immediately, our struggling group member could no longer continue, and so our guide stayed back with him to try and find a horse, leaving the rest of us alone.

My mental state was a little rough this afternoon. With no guide keeping tabs on the back of the pack, I fell behind and walked on my own the whole ascent, following a heart-shaped imprint left in the dirt by someone’s boot.

I put in some headphones for the first time on the trip and played the only playlist I had downloaded. It consisted of some Y2K bangers which fuelled a steady pace the whole climb  – 2 hours 45 minutes – only 20 minutes behind the others, it turns out.

The Fateful Night

Sleeping at 4,200m elevation at Huatiaq takes us back to the beginning of this story, where I awoke feeling as if I was being held underwater, gasping for breath. If it’s not already clear, I made it through the night.

On day six, we were once again without a guide. The remaining five group members decided amongst themselves that someone would stick with me, and they all cheered me on when I reached the summits. It’s moments like these that restore my faith in humanity. I was afraid being the slowest would frustrate my fellow hikers, but instead, I was met with kindness and support.

On day six we reached the lookout at Llaucha, which is the show-stopping panorama of the trek. Looking at the entire mountain range that we’d been looping for the past week, I at once felt so small and so grand.

To top off the day, I slipped on the way down and dislocated my left shoulder. I screamed so loud our guide, who was a good 50m behind me, practically teleported himself down the mountain to my aid and helped me pop it back in.

I was glad to hear that we’d just completed the final difficult pass of the trek, and the last two days would be relatively smooth sailing. 

Would I do the Huayhuash Circuit again?

Yes. Unequivocally yes. The Huayhuash Circuit trek was one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life. Challenging, incredibly beautiful, and an experience unlike any other.

Crying for me is a staple of multi-day hikes. It’s where I feel my rawest emotions, where I push my body and mind to see just how capable I am, and where my perspectives on reality are realigned.

The Huayhuash Circuit is non-technical, and with a tour group, you’re relatively cushioned from some of the usual challenges of going it solo, which gave me the energy to make it to the end.

FAQs Huayhuash Circuit in Peru

What is the Huayhuash Circuit trek and where is it located?

The Huayhuash Circuit is a challenging 8-10 day high-altitude loop hike in the Cordillera Huayhuash mountain range of northern Peru. It’s considered one of the most scenic treks in the world and passes through remote Andean valleys, glacial lakes, and towering peaks.

Is altitude sickness a serious risk on the Huayhuash Circuit?

Yes. The trek reaches elevations above 5,000m and altitude sickness is common. Australians should acclimatise for several days in Huaraz and consider altitude medication (like Diamox). Training and gradual ascent are key to reducing risk.

Do I need a guide or can I hike the Huayhuash Circuit independently?

While experienced trekkers can hike it solo with the right gear and maps, most hikers choose guided tours for safety, logistics, and support in case of altitude-related illness. Some remote camps require local fees or permissions, which guides handle for you.

How physically demanding is the Huayhuash Circuit, and how should I prepare?

The trek is very demanding, with multiple days at high altitude and steep ascents. Hikers should train with multi-day hikes, focus on cardio and strength, and prepare for cold, thin air. Mental resilience is as important as fitness.

What’s the best time of year to hike the Huayhuash trek?

The dry season (May to September) is the ideal time to hike the Huayhuash Circuit, with clear skies, stable weather, and spectacular views. June to August is peak season, so plan ahead if you want to join a guided group.