Wheelingit South America: 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.