Hi, I'm Les Stroud, host and creator of beyond survival.

Within the scope of filming this series, I circled the globe eight times in 10 months.

I was never not in a state of jet lag.

To embed myself with cultures who still either live close to the earth or engaged in practices meant to keep their connection, to the earth.

It was a chance to stretch my own skills and beliefs beyond what I knew.

Beyond survival.

In many cases, I had to come to these cultures in a state of humility, offering a gift and seeking permission to take part in their lives, to experience life as they knew it.

I went in without pretense, without presumption, without agenda, and left myself completely in their care so that I was open to learning their ways.

Hunting, fishing, eating, sleeping the way that they do.

Sometimes it was modern influenced with much connection to the outside world.

And other times it was near primitive.

In all cases, I was challenged both in my own well owned skillsets of survival and wilderness experience, but also in my own belief system about life itself.

I learned to go beyond the technicalities of hunting and fishing and shelters and fire.

And instead to dig deeper into what it means to be truly connected to the earth in profound ways to go beyond survival.

(upbeat music) - My way to the Quyllurit'i festival.

I look around and there's there's huts made out of stone, little tiny places on the tops of Hills.

There's no wild edibles.

Survival here in a word is tough.

And I got to keep climbing.

(tribes howling) - I'm Les Stroud and I'm in the high Andes of Peru, seeking out the Inka, masters of survival.

(upbeat music) - [Les] Before they're gone, before the past is lost.

Before their world vanishes.

I can learn their ways.

(upbeat music) - [Les] A South American country that is ecologically diverse, Peru has both the Amazon jungle and the largest mountain range in the world known as the Andes Cordillera.

I'm about to begin one of the most arduous Andean pilgrimages known to man.

After a short night's sleep, I'm up at dawn to continue my journey through the mountains, to the Quyllurit'i festival (upbeat music) Don Amberto was taking me to a glacial lake they believe is possessed by a very powerful, feminine spirit called a Anusta.

I've got to get naked and be infused with the healing power of the lake If I'm going to become Ukuku.

It's six o'clock in the morning and that glacial lake down there is the site of my next ceremony.

It's a cleansing of my energies.

Not just my body, but cleansing of my entire energy.

That's six o'clock in the morning.

- [Les] The water is intensely cold.

This is not some polar bear swim that's easily managed after a few beer on a new year's day.

My fingers and toes have been frostbitten from years of dog sledding in Canada's north, and immersing them here and now will be extremely painful.

This experience can be so overwhelming, that some initiates slipped into the cold water, had not been able to pull themselves out, drowning in the process.

I'm the first outsider to take part in the ceremony.

No cameras had filmed or photographed it, or this mountain they call Womanepa before.

As an Ukuku, I'm to help heal the disharmony between mother earth and your people, It's the Inkan warriors obligation to Pachamama to protect her.

- [Les] There's so many things about that experience that I could never relay.

The feelings that you walk through, the emotions and the power is unbelievable.

Even the pain too, of the cold.

- [Les] As I gained the respect of the high priests, I get closer to earning my spot as an Ukuku.

I'm a long way from done yet.

It's a hell of a journey.

It's like spirits of the mountains, Napa's mother earth, Pachamama, beat you and beat you and breaks you down step by step by step.

You're broken down so that when you get to a place for ceremonies in the initiation had indeed even the Quyllurit'i festival, you humble.

All along the way one of the priests is playing flute.

It's because it's a constant request for permission to travel safely through these hills.

You know the mist looms over you, and it's like the spirit, the opposite, the mountains.

It's like they're always hovering there and they can make it miserable for you, or they can make it easy and give you safe passage.

(somber music) Traditionally speaking, the people would do a long journey, up a hard hill.

When they get to the top, they would leave something to say, thank you to the God, thank you for giving me the strength to get this far.

And you'll leave an offering for that.

And that's what I've done here.

It would seem that the testing that I went through in the first part of this journey with the wind and the rain and the snow, well perhaps I passed those tests.

Because now, and what is the most treacherous part of the journey, and the weather is fair and the going as good.

The road's treacherous but, taking it slow and easy.

Incredible.

(upbeat music) - [Les] Today I'll complete my long journey through the high Andes and enter the sacred valley of Sinacara, the back way.

In the footsteps of the ancient tradition to the high priests of the Inka, I've been proving my worth, for becoming an Ukuku, a spiritual warrior, on behalf of Pachamama, mother earth.

(water flowing) - So you wouldn't think up here in the high Andes, you would get this plant here.

Oh.

Oh if the camera could smell.

Smells amazing.

It's this whole side, they actually call the medicine side of the mountain.

Its covered with medicinal plants.

They come here to collect their medicines.

It's important here to come and honor Womanita, by splashing in my face, drinking from the stream as I do everywhere around the world.

It comes right from that glacier up there.

(upbeat music) This, it may not look like much O'hara.

That's a long way up.

That's the next pass.

That's the high path.

Beyond that pass is Quyllurit'I and that'll be my first glimpse of the festival.

That's mostly what it's like.

It's a whole series of climbing up, breathing slowly.

And then every once in a while, (Les breathing heavily) Okay, I do like this rapid succession of breathing, to try to quickly pump more oxygen into me, because there's not a lot of oxygen this high up.

We're on our way up to about 16,000, to get over this pass.

Maybe more than that actually.

But my only method for getting through with breathing is, long stretches and stop rapid reading, rapid breathing, long stretch, more rapid breathing.

It seems to keep me going.

It's not easy either way.

It's the survival in the Andes mountains.

survival on the way to Quyllurit'i.

I can't even talk, Quyllurit'i Festival.

(serene music) And you can call it what you like.

When you look over a view like this, and know that you've come up from the bottom, no matter what, it's a cleansing experience.

You can call it spiritual.

You can call it emotional.

You can call a physical.

one way or another 140 kilometers, 135 of it are nearly straight up hill.

You've gone through a cleansing experience.

I'm gonna pick up a rock before I get to the top.

And this way it's like you're thanking the spirit of a mountain for giving you the strength to make it all the way to the top.

It's a good and respectful practice, no matter where you are in there.

Oh, this is finally the top of the mountain, here.

So it's very important to place my stone here in this pile, to show my respect.

You have to see this.

I'm not sure words can describe it so here you go.

That's incredible.

So that's the main festival.

I looked down here.

long sneaking stream of people still coming, still arriving.

I came up from the other direction, the other side of the mountain, nearly 140 kilometers, mostly uphill with my teachers, the Andean priest infusing me with power all along the way.

And these people are coming full of faith, full of their own energy, the direct side of the mountain, straight into the Quyllurit'i festival.

My guide and teacher through all of this, from the Canaris Nation, the Andean priest Don Amberto, he's just sitting there alone, taking it all in.

(Les talking to Andean priest in foreign language) Don Amberto has taught me everything he can.

It's now time for me to join the Ukuku.

No one can tell me what to expect because no outsider has ever done it before.

(upbeat music) - Snow's coming down.

Look at it.

Down there, it's just doubled its size, if not quadrupled its size.

I'm talking about survival as a way of life.

It is placed down here.

Come down to it.

It's a stone hat.

They've scored themselves in blue plastic for the roof.

They're way up high here above the Quyllurit'i festival.

This isn't where they come for the festival.

This is where they live.

This is hardcore survival, in the high Andes mountains.

Living the dream.

Living the dream.

You know there's a lot of things you can get at this festival, that you need for the festival.

Your offerings and all the rest of that.

But this one takes the cake here.

(Les speaks to female in foreign language) Okay.

For the little price of 30 bucks, you can have yourself a donkey head.

Yeah.

No, I'm not gonna buy it and I'm not gonna eat it.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

It's early in the morning.

And before I really truly joined the Quyllurit'i festival, the last thing I've got to do is go with Don Amberto to a new site for the final ceremony.

Look at this, the lineup.

I'll have to merge with the lineup.

Go through the festival itself.

Then the ceremony takes place about another 1500 feet up the mountain.

This is really intense.

Back to being winded again.

Just gotta remember, that they're for the Kerus people.

They have, their lungs are literally a size, a half size bigger than mine.

Their hearts are literally half size bigger than mine.

So for them, this altitude is nothing.

For me here, even though I'm a little lower down now with the Quyllurit'i festival it's still sucking wind.

Fingers and toes go all tingly and numb.

Knees and legs go tingling and numb.

Just like they did all the way through the mountain passes.

We just keep going up and up and up for this final ceremony.

(Les breathing heavily) Another process of cleansing I guess.

Even some of my camera crew has had to turn back.

That's just too much.

It's when the altitude sickness and the strenuous exercise costing uphill, too much for some of us.

So slowly, we're making our way up.

And yet my guide in all this, my teacher, is a 66 year old Andean priest.

He stops to rest, but I think that's mostly for our benefit.

As always before any ceremony must perform, I dispatch (murmurs) asking permission to do what we're going to do.

And it's snowing.

(serene music) - In the tradition of the Inka, the Andean people Trek yearly to Quyllurit'i to pray to the mountain spirit for good health in the coming year.

To participate in its magical economy.

It's believed that the mountain is a power spot for manifesting the things that you want in life.

To ask for greater material, wealth, car, bigger house, even a husband or wife.

- This area here is the area where people live out their dreams.

This is, they call it the playing ground.

They come here and they build their homes.

They have their cars.

This is where they hope to manifest their dreams.

And there will be hundreds and hundreds of these all around here.

How unfortunate by product of so many people.

People have to have a place to relieve themselves.

And here it really doesn't exist.

As we used to sit in camp and watch out for the minefield.

- [Les] The Andean people don't feel a contradiction between their devotion to Pachamama and their devotion to the Catholic traditions or any religious traditions, because they feel they're connected to a divine sacredness.

It goes beyond symbols.

- This is the Quyllurit'i festival at night, and I dressed differently.

Now I'm dressed as an Ukuku.

These people are the protectors of Pachamama.

They are the police of the Quyllurit'i festival.

They keep everyone in line.

They keep everything going proper and safe.

They clean up afterwards, but the main this is to go up and talk of the Glacier and to spend the night on the Glacier.

And what used to happen is they would come down with a chunk of ice in their arms.

And for whatever reason, some say global warming, they stopped bringing the ice down.

They simply come down at dusk and the crowd, the entire crowd, the entire Quyllurit'i festival waits for the Ukukus to come down off the mountain.

And that's my mission tonight.

I'm going up as an an Ukuku.

(crowd dancing to music) Well, that is tough.

I have to get through a very thick crowd to try to get to my group of Ukukus.

There's nearly 50 groups of Ukukus, each with five to ten Ukukus that go up on the Glacier.

I have to find my group in this crowd.

- [Les] Most of the Ukukus are under 30 years old because this ritual is meant for young men to prove their power and bravery.

And above all else to firmly establish that the young male warrior power is directed in service to the community.

Part of my testing will be the painful whipping battles the Ukuku warrior must participate in.

- [Les] Many of them are here on great faith.

They're here to leave their prayers.

They're here to leave their dreams.

They're here to seek the blessing of Quyllurit'i.

They're here to touch the holy water.

There's a spring here with holy water, and of course to go and see the rock of Jesus, The Christ rock, where it's said that He has left his imprint.

(celebratory music) - [Les] It may be difficult for me to understand, coming from a vastly different culture, but I'm not seeing anything to do with mother earth and protecting her.

What I am seeing is powerful Spanish Catholicism, deeply religious symbols, a near manic sense of Catholic spiritual power.

But the Andean people don't make a distinction between their spiritual practices.

They don't care how you pray, just so long as you do.

Don Amberto and the high priests are sitting somewhere below at the stone of Keru, because that's what the elders do.

This show of dancing, celebrating and Catholic worship, It's for the young, it's for the Ukukus.

(celebratory music) The Ukukus policed the thousands of people who've gathered here wearing masks to protect their identities.

Tonight, my job as an Ukuku will be put to the ultimate test.

(upbeat music) The shows of dancing and agility eventually will lead to the whipping battles.

And at first a masked policeman making sure they don't go too far.

Then it's my turn.

These whips are real.

And the target is the back of the calf.

Pain is real too.

And sometimes blood can be drawn.

The last stage is running the gong.

(celebratory music and noise) - [Les] Now begins to hike up the mountain to the Glacier.

First thing we have to do is I gotta navigate through all the human feces everywhere.

Follow some of the other Ukukus.

We're gonna meet up at the foot of the Glacier and make our way up.

- The climb up the mountain is one long procession with thousands of Ukukus climbing three different Glaciers.

And while I struggle hard to catch my breath, they play flutes, laugh, dance, talk in high pitched voices to conceal their identity.

It's no secret that I'm here in climbing the trail.

They've seen my face and know I'm the only outsider to ever join the Ukukus and take part in the climb and they let me begin the grueling cold, long hike to the top.

- [Les] With my guide we've been waiting to go to certain point on the hill.

Had to wait a long, long time, long enough to get real cold, real chilled.

And, and I think finally now we're heading up.

Here we go.

- [Les] The tradition is that the Ukukus must go to the highest point that they can reach on the Glacier and cut the biggest chunk of ice they can carry.

This symbolizes their unity with the Apu.

They must then carry this chunk of sacred ice back to the villages to be melted down, become holy water for blessings healing.

Global warming has caused this most central part of the ritual to be forbidden.

It's taken me 90 miles on foot just to get here.

And suddenly there's a problem.

Two men are telling me I can't go any farther.

I'm forbidden to make the final pilgrimage to the Glaciers edge.

After all I've been through to get here, they say it's too secret for me to continue onto the glacier.

- [Les] Is everyone on the glacier?

Alright, an you see them?

- Yeah.

- There's the lineup and I've been denied access and I don't I have a good reason for it.

Typical politics, typical politics, that's all I can say.

Big couple of buffoons out there.

Not only warned me not to go there, to get any closer to film.

Want us to get down and get, go away, I guess.

They're not doing Pachamama very proud today.

They're lost, and I'm done.

- [Les] Just when I think it's all over, they call me back.

The mayor has been told about my journey, about the many miles I've walked and tests I've endured.

In a sudden change of heart, he gives me a bear hug of welcome.

But all of this has cast doubt in my mind about what I'm about to discover.

The spirituality of the Inka feels lost.

The tradition has been radically altered in the past few years, due to global warming.

Without cutting the chunks of ice, this part of the ritual, the original meaning of the Ukuku initiation has been lost.

(upbeat music) - [Les] What I've discovered here instead is simple.

The youth Catholic baptism with the tradition of being whipped or looking up the statue of Christ.

How does this ceremony heal the disharmony between humanity and nature?

Here on the glaciers edge, I'm asked to kneel before the cross and receive my baptism, a whipping for my sins.

I do it, but I don't get it.

(people howling) Where's the connection to mother earth.

(people howling) The ritual has been degraded with the forbidding, of the cutting of the ice.

Now the Ukukus are going more with the Catholic aspects and away from the original intentions.

An Ukuku man who entered the mountain in front of me, kneeled down in the snow and asked the Lord of Quyllurit'i to heal him.

He was almost blind and he washed his eyes with the snow of Quyllurit'i, with much faith, saying, if the doctors can't heal me, I know the Lord of Quyllurit'i can do it.

That's the attitude of the old days.

And that's what's being lost now.

I realized Don Amberto's prayers are for his people as much as my own (upbeat music) (water splashing)