1/5/2013 Lejmebamba to Cerros de Calla-Calla
D30, 4.25,8, av6.67, Max 14.82, Tot 13682, 3679
Rained in the morning, slowly got colder all day as altitude increased.
It was easy packing without having to touch the rear load. It is a maze of cargo nets and occy straps all securing food, my raincoat, sometimes my helmet or peak hat, often rubbish and water in the bladder and water in a plastic bottle.
Coffee was brewed.
I headed to the square, bought some bread (could not get it without sugar, these Latinos love sugar) and chatted with people. People have these carts with all these bottles of different coloured liquids on board, while in the middle is a pot boiling herbs.
There were many elderly men standing around drinking the brew, which involved some skills in making, the guy was an expert. You could have put him behind any cocktail bar and he would not have been out of place.
He was selling Emoliente a medicine with natural herbs. Some of the guys told me they had been taking it first thing all their lives, they looked in great nick.
I was sold, it was an interesting drink, again good for the kidneys. It was quite enjoyable, kind of a bit gooey, with a ginger ale colour and warm. It could be added to my diet when available. It is different than chicha.
I then had breakfast off the square and got going at 0830.
Well no sooner had I got on the bike, the climbing started. Leaving town kids followed me, people were everywhere. It was a time of many greetings given and received.
A guy with a loud speaker on his car was selling pollitas. (chickens).
The road was as good as you could get in a gravel surface, small aggregate and not dusty from the early morning rain.
It was just a series of switch backs all with a forgiving grade.
Soon the Chachapoyas museum was approached, I paid a visit. It was a great exhibition. The Chachapoya peoples occupied all this land. They mummified their dead. Many of these were on display, all found at the Laguna de Los Condores.
This place is well worth a visit if you are travelling this road, it is run by the local community.
A Peruvian musician was in there as well. His heritage was from here, he was visiting his ancestral grounds for the first time. Nice guy, guitar on his back, has travelled the world playing.
Leaving here, it showered occasionally, nothing big time.
Though it was getting very cold. Sweating as you rode, if you stopped to long the sweat got cold, it was a problem.
I kept drinking, this is exactly how the dehydration got me between Cuenca and Loja that day up high.
The people are wearing normal clothing, though many women were in their dresses with hats.
Men were using horses to bring milk pails to the roadside for collection. People were walking on the road. Very few other vehicles were using the road, many parts were one way.
I laughed, when thinking about the dresses the women wear. When camping in Soldardos out of Cuenca at the school, a woman didn’t see me and was just squatting in the grass in front of me looking at the river, dress spread around her.
I thought nothing of it, thinking she was enjoying the river scene.
She got up and, there was a steamy little number gently resting on the grass. Classic! Very practical attire I might add. Maybe there are some distant roots between here and Scotland!!
About 1500 I started looking for a campsite. By now I was well up in the mountains, vegetation was reduced to ground cover and shrubs.
An old house was inspected, but offered nothing appropriate. They have been building new culverts here. Getting a bit desperate, but never worried, some of these were inspected, some were dry but had rocks at their bottoms, no good.
It was getting bloody cold and I was pretty buggered. I was now at what they call Calla Calla, the top of the Cerros de Calla-Calla. It is just a place, not a pueblita. There was no shelter, ride on I had to.
Vegetation was now reduced to just grasses and mosses.
A dog was following me all the way, least I had company.
Rounding a corner I could see what I thought might be the top.
Low and behold ahead on the roadside was a small concrete building, like a bus shelter, there was a van parked just near it.
Upon inspection, I was so lucky, the lock up part was open, it was a bit dirty, but it was shelter.
The dog stopped with me.
It was perfect, had good views, caught the westerly sun and was dry.
I put the bike in the lock up part and made sure no one saw me. As I did, till dark.
The dog was given some biscuits. He looked hungry.
The guys came along for the van, it wouldn’t start so they rolled it down the hill, good. All the while I was quiet and had the door open as it was.
No one would have harmed me, but it was easier to have my presence known only to me and the dog.
Going outside of my refuge was a hurried affair. I really did not want anyone to know I was here.
I brewed 1 coffee, maggi soup and two teas, so good in the cool weather.
Soon the clouds closed in the whole area. Very similar to winter camping in some parts of northern NSW.
Having set up, not sleeping in the tent but just on the footprint on the airbed, my gaze wandered across to the angle bar on my bike, beneath my large stainless water bottle to where a feather is attached.
It was almost uncanny, my good fortune, in this desolate environment at 3000 metres in the Andes, that shelter almost as good as a motel should await me.
This spiritualism derived from this gift received in northern USA, has added another dimension to this journey here and earlier on the Mississippi River. Things like this have happened on a number of occasions.
A dimension not thought about all the time, or much at all for that matter. Though when it is thought about my emotions flow. Emotions that bring home the reality of this journey. This other place is always there.
One, where an awareness is being achieved like never before for me. An awareness that is taking me to a level that is so pure in its presence.
One where freedom has allowed my thoughts to contemplate all manner of things, both real and those beyond.
This Peruvian landscape, so different from Ecuador only enhances these thoughts.
It is truly a place of great tranquillity. With people that seem to just flow with its astounding beauty. Like the stream and rivers that bring each valley together as the waters meet.
The peoples tracks are seen everywhere, no matter how steep the slope. They have used and respected this land for a long time. Small cultivated patches were common, often on such steep terrain.
As it darkened, the temperature got cooler.
Each time a car passed I had to switch off my head light and close the computer lid so as not to attract attention.
Going outside to clean my teeth, the cloud had shrouded everything beyond 10 metres.
Hopefully there’s no other homeless buggers out looking for shelter.
A rock was put at the base of the steel door to keep it closed.
I began to shiver. I hope my sleeping bag is up to the task.
Musica Peruano saw me off to sleep, as it had helped me get here during the day.
Thirty kilometres, all enjoyable, though near the end, stretching it.
D30, 4.25,8, av6.67, Max 14.82, Tot 13682, 3679
Rained in the morning, slowly got colder all day as altitude increased.
It was easy packing without having to touch the rear load. It is a maze of cargo nets and occy straps all securing food, my raincoat, sometimes my helmet or peak hat, often rubbish and water in the bladder and water in a plastic bottle.
Coffee was brewed.
I headed to the square, bought some bread (could not get it without sugar, these Latinos love sugar) and chatted with people. People have these carts with all these bottles of different coloured liquids on board, while in the middle is a pot boiling herbs.
There were many elderly men standing around drinking the brew, which involved some skills in making, the guy was an expert. You could have put him behind any cocktail bar and he would not have been out of place.
He was selling Emoliente a medicine with natural herbs. Some of the guys told me they had been taking it first thing all their lives, they looked in great nick.
I was sold, it was an interesting drink, again good for the kidneys. It was quite enjoyable, kind of a bit gooey, with a ginger ale colour and warm. It could be added to my diet when available. It is different than chicha.
I then had breakfast off the square and got going at 0830.
Well no sooner had I got on the bike, the climbing started. Leaving town kids followed me, people were everywhere. It was a time of many greetings given and received.
A guy with a loud speaker on his car was selling pollitas. (chickens).
The road was as good as you could get in a gravel surface, small aggregate and not dusty from the early morning rain.
It was just a series of switch backs all with a forgiving grade.
Soon the Chachapoyas museum was approached, I paid a visit. It was a great exhibition. The Chachapoya peoples occupied all this land. They mummified their dead. Many of these were on display, all found at the Laguna de Los Condores.
This place is well worth a visit if you are travelling this road, it is run by the local community.
A Peruvian musician was in there as well. His heritage was from here, he was visiting his ancestral grounds for the first time. Nice guy, guitar on his back, has travelled the world playing.
Leaving here, it showered occasionally, nothing big time.
Though it was getting very cold. Sweating as you rode, if you stopped to long the sweat got cold, it was a problem.
I kept drinking, this is exactly how the dehydration got me between Cuenca and Loja that day up high.
The people are wearing normal clothing, though many women were in their dresses with hats.
Men were using horses to bring milk pails to the roadside for collection. People were walking on the road. Very few other vehicles were using the road, many parts were one way.
I laughed, when thinking about the dresses the women wear. When camping in Soldardos out of Cuenca at the school, a woman didn’t see me and was just squatting in the grass in front of me looking at the river, dress spread around her.
I thought nothing of it, thinking she was enjoying the river scene.
She got up and, there was a steamy little number gently resting on the grass. Classic! Very practical attire I might add. Maybe there are some distant roots between here and Scotland!!
About 1500 I started looking for a campsite. By now I was well up in the mountains, vegetation was reduced to ground cover and shrubs.
An old house was inspected, but offered nothing appropriate. They have been building new culverts here. Getting a bit desperate, but never worried, some of these were inspected, some were dry but had rocks at their bottoms, no good.
It was getting bloody cold and I was pretty buggered. I was now at what they call Calla Calla, the top of the Cerros de Calla-Calla. It is just a place, not a pueblita. There was no shelter, ride on I had to.
Vegetation was now reduced to just grasses and mosses.
A dog was following me all the way, least I had company.
Rounding a corner I could see what I thought might be the top.
Low and behold ahead on the roadside was a small concrete building, like a bus shelter, there was a van parked just near it.
Upon inspection, I was so lucky, the lock up part was open, it was a bit dirty, but it was shelter.
The dog stopped with me.
It was perfect, had good views, caught the westerly sun and was dry.
I put the bike in the lock up part and made sure no one saw me. As I did, till dark.
The dog was given some biscuits. He looked hungry.
The guys came along for the van, it wouldn’t start so they rolled it down the hill, good. All the while I was quiet and had the door open as it was.
No one would have harmed me, but it was easier to have my presence known only to me and the dog.
Going outside of my refuge was a hurried affair. I really did not want anyone to know I was here.
I brewed 1 coffee, maggi soup and two teas, so good in the cool weather.
Soon the clouds closed in the whole area. Very similar to winter camping in some parts of northern NSW.
Having set up, not sleeping in the tent but just on the footprint on the airbed, my gaze wandered across to the angle bar on my bike, beneath my large stainless water bottle to where a feather is attached.
It was almost uncanny, my good fortune, in this desolate environment at 3000 metres in the Andes, that shelter almost as good as a motel should await me.
This spiritualism derived from this gift received in northern USA, has added another dimension to this journey here and earlier on the Mississippi River. Things like this have happened on a number of occasions.
A dimension not thought about all the time, or much at all for that matter. Though when it is thought about my emotions flow. Emotions that bring home the reality of this journey. This other place is always there.
One, where an awareness is being achieved like never before for me. An awareness that is taking me to a level that is so pure in its presence.
One where freedom has allowed my thoughts to contemplate all manner of things, both real and those beyond.
This Peruvian landscape, so different from Ecuador only enhances these thoughts.
It is truly a place of great tranquillity. With people that seem to just flow with its astounding beauty. Like the stream and rivers that bring each valley together as the waters meet.
The peoples tracks are seen everywhere, no matter how steep the slope. They have used and respected this land for a long time. Small cultivated patches were common, often on such steep terrain.
As it darkened, the temperature got cooler.
Each time a car passed I had to switch off my head light and close the computer lid so as not to attract attention.
Going outside to clean my teeth, the cloud had shrouded everything beyond 10 metres.
Hopefully there’s no other homeless buggers out looking for shelter.
A rock was put at the base of the steel door to keep it closed.
I began to shiver. I hope my sleeping bag is up to the task.
Musica Peruano saw me off to sleep, as it had helped me get here during the day.
Thirty kilometres, all enjoyable, though near the end, stretching it.
Leaving Leymebamba, lots of kids knew English greetings, they study it at school.
Bringing the milk out of the hills
Vegetation Cerros de Calla-Calla
The hotel Calla-Calla, 3000 metres.
Brewed coffee, "milk of the mother" enjoyed in room1, ground floor.
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Leymebamba community museum, sponsored by Austrians, well worth a visit
Nearing the nights, as yet unknown rest spot, Cerros de Calla-Calla
A nice spot to stop and cherish the moment.
Early evening, the onslaught of cloud.
Typical scene lower down above Leymebamba
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