A Bit of a Climb #2

After exhausting, in a disgusting fashion, Cuzcos fine selection of gringo treats we were back on the road again. We didnt set off untill 3 pm after an extremely lazy morning of packing and preparing the best possible redition of a full english breakfast we could muster with the available ingredients. It was surprisingly delicous and set us up for a nice afternoon of mostly down hill and flat riding out of the city. After 2 hours of cycling we came across an Incan ruin on the side of the road and couldnt pass up the opportunity to camp inside its walls. We spent the evening hanging out on the walls, trying to photograph (unsuccessfully) the night sky which was quite brilliant and messing around with fire. Around midnight we were hit by an awesome storm, the thunder so loud it not only woke me up but almost knocked me out again and the lighting was so bright it could penetrate closed eyes which meant we lost a few hours of precious sleep that night. The next day was an easy 100km through flat and gently rolling valleys The road was busy and the dogs were aggressive.

Camped at the ruins 

 In one battle with some dogs I came of strong and managed to kick one vicous little fecker right in the face and sent him off with his tail between his legs hopefully with the knowledge not to chase cyclists ever again... though i doubt it was that intelligent. This may sound harsh to the dog lovers among you ( I am also a dog lover) but dogs out here are vicous especially when your sat on a moving thing that shines in the sun. 

I have discovered there are many ways to deter dogs, the most effective one being simply to stop and bark at them like a mad man, Even the most vicous looking beasts just simply stop and look at you then walk away disinterested. This method is a last resort because it means stopping and loosing your momentum. I have taken to just barking at them or throwing rocks which seems to do the trick.

We found camp that night by a river and upon inspecting my bike I realised somehow I had 2 rougue spokes, in the process of trying to fix them I punctured a tire and then gave up for the night irritated. The night was cold and damp but the stars again were out in their millions. 

Earlr morning on the river

A lazy morning as the sun took a while to arrive. everything was soaked with the dew and we waited around while our tents dried on the river bed and ate french toast with some delicous honey we found in Cuzco and enjoyed the glorious arrival of the sun. 

In the next town I fixed my bike and we bought supplies for lunch and dinner. we stopped for lunch in a strange looking town with an eerie feel to it, it felt as if we were in the midwest US 100 years ago. We ate lunch on a bench in the grounds of a strangely out of place mansion and a colonial church with a sad looking swing set and some huge ucalyptus trees. The rest of the afternoon we climbed gradually on our way up to a 4200 meter pass, just before arriving we rounded a corner and came across a sign saying "Aguas calientes" and saw ahead of us thermal baths, that eggy sulphur smell in the air. It was 2 soles entry (50p) and they let us stay there all night . We set up our camp under a parasol and bathed in the steamy hot baths all afternoon. 

thermal baths

It was another 10km up to the pass, the valley was spectacular. At the Cumbre (top) there was a group of local artesans setting up their stalls for the day, obviously a few bus tours would pass through and stop for the view. A relieving 20km of downhill and then another 20 of flat riding. The valley was vast and although we were surrounded by mountains the sky seemed huge the horizon very distant. We cycled for 40km without seeing more than a hut, We had planned to eat lunch in a town called Quilcabamba but when we arrived it was nothing more than a shack next to a railway. We finished the rest of our cheese and honey and found some awful bread in the mentioned shack. Just after lunch I began to feel rough and it got worse as the afternoon progressed. In the next town we met a chinese cyclist who looked like a local farmer, he spoke to us in broken english and we learned that he had been cycling for 16 years and had cycled over 130 countries. He had obviously mastered the art of thrifty travelling by ther looks of him, he wore a threadbare fisherman vest and his panniers looked like they were made from potato sacks.

 

Bike covered in frost in the morning

The afternoon went on and i felt very weak, obviosly having caught some bug from somewhere so we decided to hitchhike to the next  big town Puno to take a days rest. The first truck to pass stopped and picked us up but he was in a short pickup truck so we had to cramp ourselves in the only small crevasse our bikes were not occupying not an inch to move. It was further than we had thought, we arrived in the dark almost frozen from the wind and rain and stiffened from less than comfortable positions we had been stuck in for 2 hours, we checked into the first hostel we could find. Puno is the gateway to lake Titikaka but apart from that there was not much to do. I slept off my sickness for a day and we were off again along the shore of Lake Titikaka. The cycling was beautiful, it was a great change of scenery to ride along the lake shore, strange rock formations on our right.  made great time along those flat roads and cycled the whole day untill the sun was on its way down. We crested a small climb and were treated to a spectacular view of the sun setting on a distant horizon of snow capped mountains on the the other side of the lake. We found a beautiful spot near the lake to camp and made dinner in the very cold night.

The Sun setting on the lake 

A new day and a new Country, we arrived at the border around lunch time and passed through without a problem or a bribe or even a queue which was ruddy brilliant. It was another 8km to Copacabamba, a touristy town which most people use as a base to visit Isla del Sol on the lake. We just used it to enjoy a big burger and a bottle of beer to celebrate a new country. We had a lazy lunch neither of us really looking forward to to 10km pass ahead of us that afternoon. As we climbed out of Copacabamba leaving the lake below us the altitude became a problem as we were nearing 5000m we climbed untill the sun started setting and reached the pass, but could not find a spot to camp so we continued rolling along the top of the range without a flat spot in sight untill just before the night came down upon us we found a great place overlooking the lake ahead of us. It was freezing but dry with no dew in the air and made us make a hasty camp and swiftly change into warmer clothes. Another beautiful night plagued only by our incessant farting a very unpleasant symptom  of the altiude.

The next morning after being caught in the process of voiding my botty by two ladies and a donkey walking up the valley, they pretended not to notice me but i´m pretty sure the donkey did. We had a stunning ride along the top of an outcrop of mountains branching into the lake. We had great views on either side of us, finally decended down to the lake to take a small ferry across a gap in the land. The ferrys were nothing more than large floating rafts capable of shipping buses and cars across the gap individually. We waited for another vehicle to cross so we could jump on with them and share the ride.

 The afternoon was more of gently rolling roads nothing very exciting or challenging but the views were far from uninteresting. We passed many towns which seemed to be empty not an open shop or restaurant around untill in the early afternoon we came across a whole strip of restaurants serving fresh trout from the lake. We could not pass up such an opprtunity and were certainly not dissapointed with our food. A huge fish with all the trimmings for less that 3 quid. Expensive for Bolivian standards but well worth the splurge.

Titi-trout

The rest of the day was all flat and as we rode into the horizon the lofty peaks of the Cordillera Real revealed themselves. We cycled untill dusk and camped near the side of the road on a rocky crop field.
The next morning was bitterly cold, insofar as water would begin to freeze around the rim of our bottles when we poured it into a pan, we implored the sun for a premature rise but its was as puntucual as ever.
After quaffing some oats, with honey, yoghurt, rasins, sunflower seeds, pure cocao, dessicated coconut, and some chopped apples - our staple breakfast for weeks, its glorious (when on the road all day food tends to concentrate the mind)......we cycled into La Paz. This was not enjoyable, and after riding out of Lima, we prepared ourseleves for a cheerless morning of klaxon-tooting trucks that ´unwittingly´ usher you of the roads and smog-stained suburbs where locals with inane grins point and exclaim ´Gringo¨ every 3 or 4 minutes.

La Paz

Anyway after taking a wrong turn and generally getting lost in the frenetic anthill that is La Paz, we eventually descended into the valley where La Paz is nestled, we then got lost again in the frenetic anthill that is La Paz. We then found and met up with Cristian, another Casa de Ciclista host. We met some of the other cyclists staying at his house and then went for a typical Bolivian lunch, Charkek, with Cristian and his family. That night because I was ill in Lima on my birthday, Sean, the darling that he is bought the ingredients for some steller burritos and nachos, we even found some Corona. The following day was a bone-idle rest day.

Huayna Potosi

The west ridge to the peak

We had decided a while ago that we both wanted to climb a 6000m peak in the Andes and decided upon the magnificent Huayana Potosi (6088m), north of La Paz in the Zongo Valley. The mountain is grade PD which included some ice climbing. After having arranged a local guide/mountaineer etc on our rest day we set off the following morning to the Zongo Valley where Huayana Base Camp is. Just before we left La Paz we met the two other guys (one Hungarian and one Dutch) who would be climbing with us and went to have our ice boots and crampons fitted. We all arrived at base camp with conflicitng emotions, a clash of excitement and anxiety; we had a hearty broth and hiked up to the glacier for some ice climbing practice. It was a lot of fun.The next day we hiked up to high camp (5700) had another hearty broth and went to sleep at 6pm for the 2am start the next morning. Hardly anyone slept, its almost impossible at that altitude. The alarm went at 1.30am and we all put on our gear and roped ourseleves in threes. It took us 3 and a half hours to reach the summit - just before the top was a ridge, an infamous ridge the width of a boot and with a 300m metre drop either side.... its was tough, but quite special and obviously rewarding. From the summit you could see all of lake titicaca, La Paz and even the fringe of the amazon basin. We were the only group out of 5 that made it to the peak that day, so we were doubly chuffed.
As we descended completley in awe of our surroundings we realised just how many crevasses were peppered around, not really a climb you can do in the dark without a guide thats climbed it 100 times over.
Extremely exhuasted and ambling around like new born fawns down the beveled streets of La Paz we got back to Cristains house and slept.

A spot of ice climbing

Enjoying a homemade Alpaca steak with yukka fries and caramalised apples

Bit of a climb

Ayacucha to Cuzco.

The last days have been some of the most difficult of the trip. As the chart above illustrates we had a few passes to do and most of them above 4000m, in a moment of boredom and egoism we worked out that cumulatively we ascended roughly 10,000 meters in 9 days..... Sean has definitely broken in now/broken down. The last 3 day stretch to Cuzco was the only section that was paved. 

Leaving Ayacucha the road was rocky and poorly graded, it was hot, the landscape was dry and arid for the first day with cactus being the main vegetation to look at. We had a late start and only managed 40km the first day. Along the road we met an American cyclist coming in the opposite direction. He advised us that we had another 50km to climb when we were expecting to come across the pass in about 5km´s. We were slightly ill informed. We came to a bend in the road with a good camping spot just before nightfall and managed to set up camp before a spectacular thunder storm hit us. We found a hut just big enough to shelter us from the rain and ate dinner watching the lightning strike on the horizon.

Continuing up toward the pass the scenery became greener, early morning we came across a huge festival in a tiny village. decided to check it out to see what was going on. A potato and quinua exhibition/festival. The biggest event of the year we were informed. As we entered the site we instantly drew a crowd after wondering around a while we settled down with some delicious fried fish and watched a cow milking competition which seemed to be the most exciting event. The stage started up as the judges began the main event which i think was the exhibition of potatoes. We were invited onto the stage but declined not really knowing what we could bring to a potato festival and headed back on the road.

Cow milking competition at the potato festival, yep.

The rest of the day was a took us through rolling farmland up a small pass and down into another valley eventually the pass was in sight. As we climbed higher the day grew late and we came across an empty shelter only 3km from the pass and decided to call it a day. this hut looked like it was built for us. We relaxed in the cold mountain air and watched the rain roll in under our luxuriously large personal canopy. not another soul insight.

home up on the pass

our neighbours

The next morning we were engulfed in cloud and the cold kept us in our tents untill 8am before we finally plucked up the courage to get out and make breakfast. The next 3 km to the pass felt hard as our bodies were sluggish due to being dragged out into the freezing cold morning. We came to a road closure right at the top of the pass where we had missed the last opening by about 20 minutes and were told we would have to wait untill noon in order to pass. We asked all the workers there if they could make an exception for us if we went with care but nobody seemed to have the authority to answer us. After an hour or so we flagged down a car of road engineers and they allowed us to pass. It was 35km to the next town where we planned to eat lunch. the rain came down hard and freezing and the road with in a terrible condition wet and muddy. I lost all feeling in my extremities untill we got down into warmer temperatures. Upon arrival in Ocros we were shivering cold and Sean especially (who had recently lost his front mudguard) was caked in mud. found somewhere warm and ate some food. It took as the rest of the day to descend down to Puente Pampas the valley floor at around 1800m due to lots of road blocks and a poor quality road in most parts. We came across some asphalt but it was short lived, only lasted about 500m. We stayed in a small town called Ayahuasara at the bottom of the valley. The owner of the hostel was a miserable man probably because 2 filthy gringos had turned up and were smearing mud all over his house. Much needed wash.

a cow

Next morning with the largest pass of the section ahead of us road started in the worst condition yet. We started climbing on very steep muddy roads, some sections were no better than wet sand. It was a challenging morning. After the first couple of switchbacks Seans hamstring started complaining at the worst possible time. A car of road workers approached and informed us they were waiting for us to pass a few switchbacks above before closing the road untill the afternoon in order to blow the shit out of it with dynamite. We pushed on feeling rushed until eventually came across a group of workers waiting for us to pass and anticipating some explosions and could finally have a little rest. The mud was of a consistency whereby it would collect in every orifice of the bike caking the gears and breaks and everything until things didnt work properly anymore. Everytime I came across a stream I would stop to wash my bike. At noon we arrived at Chincheros hungry and ready for a break, we found everything to be closed, not an open restaurant in sight. Realised that it was Easter day so we had to push on another 8km until the next town, Uripa,  luckily from here the road was paved which made life marginally easier.

The afternoon took us to a camp spot at around 3700m. After dinner with our sweet tooths moaning for more we created oatmeal camp cookies with all the suitable ingredients we could find in our depleting provisions. They turned out delicious, relatively, and we excitedly made a whole batch and gorged.

The next morning the road continued on gently climbing on asphalt. We reached the top by mid morning. The roads were quiet and the fog engulfing us created a beautiful silence. It was a cold and wet at the top but generally a very enjoyable decent down to Andalahayas mostly on paved roads, which allowed us the luxury of speed and hands that were not in a perpetual state on cramping from braking constantly. We arrived in Andalahuyas and found in the plaza some of the best street food I can remember, stuffed peppers tagliatelle and a pork salad. We ate much and then sat around in the plaza with bare feet for an hour or so to allow our shoes and socks to dry a little after the mornings wet decent. We then cycled half way up the next pass, bought some beers and made a quina egg salad - it was bloomin´ lovely. 

The next morning after peaking the pass, the bastardly dirt road reared its bastardly dirt face again. We stopped for lunch, in a one horse town, where the locals bored holes in us with their stares. Some children crowded us and began to ask saccharinely strange questions, such as ´do you have dogs in England?´, ¨do you know what a phone is?´....´have you ever heard music before?´, it got a tad incessant, one kid just asked the same question over and over again. Answering with sincerity became numbing, so we both got a little facetious - ´what is this music you speak of, is it ´dogs´ that make it?´ We had been riding all day - politeness wanes when your cream crackered.

The next stretch was 80km all down hill on the aforementioned bastardly dirt road. Because of the bumps and cracks on the road it felt like we were riding a pneumatic drill with wheels, the road seemed to be a template for infinty, switchback after switchback after switchback, the city of Abancay remained aloof for hours, it just sat there in the vista like a little lego model. After 7 hours of cycling we made it to the bottom of the valley, 15km climb shy of Abancay, so we got a cheeky taxi ride as it was pitch black.

Eddie Hector and I

As we moseyed around searching for the cheapest hostal two men approached us; Eddie, a stocky brazillian cyclist fella, the other Hector, an affluent chap with his fingers in all sorts of pies, but most importantly a host for Casa de Ciclistas (Casa de Ciclistas is a network of cyclists that host cycling travellers). He saw our bikes and immediately invited us to his restraunt where he treated us to a chifa buffet (basically chinese food) and an inordinate supply of fresh lemonade. Eddie was also being hosted by Hector, he had been cycling for 5 years in the Americas and had clocked up an impressive 70,000km (though his bike didnt really cut the mustard; it weighed 90 kilos and had 3 gears......didnt really seem to be equipped for the Andes). He was.....a character. After our bellies burgeoned from the buffet, Hector gave us a key to an empty and roomy apartment, he told us to grab a shower and meet him at his bar later. He bought us drinks all night and invited us for breakfast the next morning. We were being spoilt, almost to the point of suspicion, though paranoia was silly, Hector didnt seem to have the gumption to groom us, he was just a ruddy nice guy. 

After breakfast, suitably enough, Hector invited us for lunch. We both ran some errands on our rest day, and later ate at his restaurant again for dinner.

Our arteries clogged with chifa, we set off the next morning in the rain up a very steep 40km climb, his hospitality continued to the next valley/town as he had a house there, we slept in some top notch beds that night. Cheers Hector. That night we had a nice chicken dinner, made a big brew and ate a packet of oreos.

Another early start to the next day gave us time to spend a couple of hours at a natural hot springs down in the riverbed of the valley, we had it to ourselves. It was nice, and was just about worth the gruelling climb back up to the main road. Afterwards was, not to carp on, but a horrible stretch of deceptively steep climbing due to the absence of switchbacks, which some how gave the illusion that the road was flat, which, well was a bit of a head fuck. It was difficult to get into a rhythm.

The last pass

We got to the next town of Limatamba for a very late and very nice lunch, we both had a little nap and just about managed another hour of climbing after lunch which by that time was nearly getting dark. We found some land that apparently was owned by a gang of dogs. We made some pasta and some more quasi oatmeal cookies.

The next day saw us to Cusco! Finally. Where we have been taking advantage of the smorgasbord of amenities and luxuries made available for the herds of gringos that visit this beautiful city. Seans eyes were bigger than his belly after he found dairy milk bars and a cafe that dose a really good carrot cake. He now has chronic indigestion.

A lovely family who gave us some water somewhere along the way

arriving in Cuzco

Chewing coca leaves up on a high pass

Met this guy on the road

Main plaza in Cuzco