How the Andes Humbled Me: A Trek That Got in My Head

There’s a mindset that can sneak up on experienced hikers — one I’ve definitely fallen into:

“I’ve done this before. I’ll be right.”

In 2023, I hiked the Western Arthur Range in Tasmania — a wild, demanding traverse that required serious preparation. I trained hard for it, and despite the challenge, the journey felt deeply rewarding. In 2024, I took on the Haute Route across the Swiss Alps — 230km with relentless 1,200m ascents most days. Again, I trained, and again, I loved it. I felt strong, motivated, and connected to every step.

Then came Peru.

Over the years, I’ve also trekked to Everest Base Camp, hiked Tasmania’s Overland Track, and followed the Inka Trail to Machu Picchu. These were all unforgettable, effort-filled adventures — but none of them challenged my motivation the way Peru did this time.

This wasn’t our first high-altitude, multi-day trek. We’ve tackled long days and alpine terrain before. I figured my body knew what to do. But what I didn’t factor in was how little I’d prepared for the impact of altitude — and how much that would mess with my head.

But this time, I struggled — more than I expected.

When Experience Isn’t Enough

High-altitude trekking is always a challenge, and sure, I blamed the thin air for my slower pace. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t just the altitude. It was me.

I hadn’t trained properly — not in a way that prepared me for altitude. Physically, I actually felt okay most days. But mentally? I wasn’t ready for what it would feel like to fall behind and stay there. I hadn’t prioritised the prep.

I kept telling myself that life was busy (it was), that work was demanding (also true), that there was too much personal stuff that had to be dealt with, that there’d be time later to train (there wasn’t).

And honestly? I just couldn’t be bothered. The drive to get out there and push myself — the motivation I’d had in years past — just wasn’t there this time. And I felt it.

When Training Feels Like Pressure, Not Choice

One of the things I love most about hiking is the freedom and sense of escape it gives me. But training — especially when it feels like something I have to do — can feel like the opposite. It starts to feel like pressure. A chore. Just another thing on the to-do list.

I didn’t enjoy it. So I avoided it.

And when the trek came, I paid the price — not in sore muscles or exhaustion, but in altitude fog and a mind that wouldn’t stop spiralling. I found myself lagging behind my wife Julie — who was absolutely powering through after months of proper prep, often well ahead and out of sight.

What hit harder, though, was the psychological toll.

Any long-distance trek will test you, but not always in the ways you expect. The fact I couldn’t keep up with Julie — after years of walking side-by-side — didn’t just frustrate me. It shook me more than I expected. What made it harder was knowing this was something we were doing together — but more and more, it didn’t feel that way. Feeling alone out there, falling behind each day, chipped away at my confidence until my motivation started to unravel.

There was one day on the eight-day trek when the mental fatigue lifted. It turned out to be the most memorable and rewarding of the entire journey — so much so, I shed a quiet tear while soaking in the views. Strangely, it was also the highest point on our trek: San Antonio Pass, at 5,100 metres.

That day, Julie and I walked together — every step. And I never once struggled to keep up (maybe she slowed down, maybe I lifted). But what stuck with me most was this: it wasn’t the altitude, the views, or the challenge that made it meaningful. It was sharing it. That’s what matters to me — not just reaching summits, but being in it together.

When we summited Nevado Mateo (5150m) — arguably the least significant pimple on the long and complicated southwest ridge of Nevado Contrahierbas — I nearly turned back several times.

Not because the climb was overwhelmingly hard, but because the mental pressure I put on myself for falling behind felt like too much. I had nothing left in the tank mentally. I’d checked out — and that hit me harder than any physical fatigue ever could.

Rebuilding Motivation: Lessons Learned the Hard Way

Coming back from Peru, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation. How it slips. How to get it back. Here’s what I’m focusing on now — not just to prep better for the next trek, but to enjoy the process along the way.

1. Reframe the Why

I’ll no longer train to “get fit.” I’ll train so future me can hike longer, breathe easier, and soak in the views — not collapse in a heap.

2. Set Micro Goals, Not Just Big Ones

Rather than vague ideas like “train three times a week,” I’ll set targets like:

• Do one full-pack hike this month.
• Walk one local trail I haven’t tried before.
• Hit a hill I usually avoid — and beat my time.

3. Lock It In the Calendar

If I schedule meetings and appointments, why not my hikes? I’ll now add my training into my week like any other commitment. It’s non-negotiable, not optional.

4. Make Training Feel Like Hiking Again

I’ll ditch the gym for the trails. My “training” is now real walks, real boots, real terrain. If it’s going to feel like a chore, at least let it come with views.

5. Accept the Setbacks

I missed sessions. I wasn’t where I needed to be. I didn’t perform how I wanted. That’s okay. Owning it is the first step forward.

6. Visualise the Payoff

Sometimes I look at a photo from our trek — a lake, a summit, a winding ridgeline — and remind myself: this is what I’m training for. Not abs or pace. Just that moment of standing above the clouds, knowing I earned it.

The Trek Starts Long Before the Trailhead

We often talk about training as something you do before the real adventure. But the truth is, the adventure doesn’t start on day one of the hike. It starts months earlier — the moment you commit to preparing your body and mind for what’s coming.

Because the trail won’t go easy on you just because you’ve “done it before.” And neither will the altitude.

Next time, I’ll be ready. And if you’ve got a big trek in your future — now is the time to get moving.

Not out of guilt. Not out of pressure. But because future you deserves to feel strong, steady, and smiling at the summit.

Quick Tips: How to Stay Motivated for a Big Trek

Need a quick reminder? Here are some hiking training tips that can help you stay motivated as you prep for your next big trek:

• Create a countdown calendar and pin it somewhere visible.
• Turn training into micro-adventures.
• Find an accountability partner or hiking group.
• Track progress, not perfection.
• Always come back to your why.

Final Thought

“The trail doesn’t just test your fitness. It reveals the truth about your preparation.”

Don’t let that truth catch you off guard, like it did me.

Planning your next adventure? Explore gear guides, trail reviews, and training resources — and feel free to share your own motivation wins (or failures!) in the comments.