South of Trujillo, on the Pan Am, with plenty of water onboard.
A great camp
the best rest area we could find, at least chairs were provided
Lodgings Chuquicara, thats the courtesy bus outside. The owner was like all people encountered , a nice guy.
Insignificance, comes to mind.
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With added water
The girl in the red was such a gem, so friendly, enthusiastic and informative. At Tanguche
This dog followed us and its owner, also on a bike for sometime on the Pan Am, he was keeping up no worries at 25km.
Typical coal extraction, providing access to trucks, the Rio Santa is in the foreground. Note the colour.
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23/5/2013 Trujillo to a turn off 15k south of Puente Chao
D92, T7, Av13.25, Max 39, Tot14379, 4314
Fine, 30, cool sth westerlies
Deirdre and I were late getting away, I feel here I can safely blame Lujo. It was no big deal, he had Deirdre s bike locked up after replacing the cones in the axles.
We took a few photos and said goodbye to the other cyclists staying there.
Lujo got his daily exercise escorting us to the main road south.
It had been a great time in Trujillo.
Soon as we got out of the city limits, desert like conditions on both sides of the highway prevailed. What a harsh environment. Some satellite towns were hanging onto to each grain of sand, maintaining their existence.
I had left Trujillo with diarrhea, its grip or lack thereof within got me about 30km into the trip. Luckily, sugar cane delivered me from full view from the highway.
It was quite amazing what the Peruanos have done here in the desert, sugarcane, avocados and many other tree crops were thriving in huge plantations on both sides of the road.
The terrain was was largely flat and easy going, though temps were in the low 30’s it was unnoticeable.
It was a pleasure to be riding with Deirdre again, she is easy to get on with. An unspoken ease exists.
Knowing we were going to be camping tonight, we stocked up a few supplies in Puente Chao.
Fifteen km south of here we turned off onto a gravel road. At the guard post we stocked up on water from the attendant. It was so kind of him to let us help ourselves from his large blue bottle.
We headed into this brown, dry, rocky world for about 4km. By now it was 1630, time to look for a camp.
Coming across a cluster of concrete walls standing in the middle of nowhere, though obviously related to the irrigation canal that ran beneath the road nearby.
There was a track that led up to an elevated position. Deirdre looked after the bikes whilst I went to investigate. We were truly in luck, below me was a 5mx5mx 2.5m open concrete tank type enclosure, that may have once been used to hold tar to line the concrete canals.
This was camp for the night, out of the wind, obscured from the road and with a smooth bedding surface in an otherwise shattered rock environment.
By now the diarrhea had become a preoccupation. The last part of the ride was energy sapping, even though it was flat road.
Our camp was like a desert bunker and every hour I had to involuntarily venture forth into hostile territory to lay a booby trap. At least there was plenty of scope for not duplicating their positioning.
I was now very weak, no nourishment had been taken from my food all day. Even though we ate well in Puente Chao.
It was a pleasure to see the sun setting over to the west and the Pan American, a road we were glad to have departed.
We watched a movie, Deirdre slept, whilst most of my night was spend putting thongs on and scaling the side of our refuge to take up a position best suited to a chair.
Toilet paper glowed in the moonlight as it rode the fresh breeze, this environment would soon see its biodegradable demise.
At least, a full moon was in the making, the surrounding landscape took on a hue, that of more than just silhouettes. It made this cyclic chore half bearable.
The westerlies still blew, though not cold.
24/5/2013 Bunker to Chuquicara
D56, T4/9, Av13.6, Max35 Tot14434, 4370
It had been a hard night to say the least, arising, energy levels were at an ebb. Though knowing I had to eat. Deirdre had porridge and raisins, that, boiled eggs and coffee was eaten though not fully enjoyed.
My first warning to her was tread carefully, we got some good laughs from my misfortune.
Packing up and lifting all the gear and bikes from our retreat we headed off down the flat but very rough gravel road winding through a moonscape, offering vistas that had the power to take my mind off my health.
Every 5km, a compulsory stop was made. Deirdre understood,Peter had tried to ride in this condition but had been unable to eat. It was his undoing.
Food, water and hope were my only exits from this condition, which like cold and seasickness can leave one not really caring what happens.
One thing in our favour as the day wore on was strong tailwinds out of the west.
We enjoyed lunch in amongst a heap of boulders roadside, that of coffee, tuna, crackers and bread.
During lunch on filling my water bottle, a bright green, very much alive algae was seen growing all around the neck and lid of my water bottle. Shit, maybe this was it.
We were quietly confident. Water was boiled and it was immersed for sometime. In hindsight I had been a bit loose yonder for a week or two. I had no chance if this was the problem, water from here was consumed all day everyday on the road.
We had been following the Rio Santa most of the day, sadly this river runs almost black, there is a ton of coal in the ranges throughout its length. Those gathering it have concerns other than the environment it would appear.
The river could be heard all day as its surface was broken by rocks in its passage. It is so fortunate that there is so much water here, many small tributaries were running into it. Some were crystal clear, it was so sad to see their purity immediately obliterated by the Santa.
Millions of dollars have been spent in this environment of mostly just shattered rock mountains, where only a few cacti had been able to live comfortably in it without an artificial water supply.
Huge concrete irrigation channels were seen running roadside. To think that just the average rock here could not even be moved by a human, mans ability to build machinery that can work this land. There is not even any soil here!!! Just sharp bloody huge rocks and some smooth where water in the past had been.
Mining tracks were seen traversing the most steepest mountains, tracks taking people to search for gold and coal.
Late afternoon we were being pushed along by a brisk westerly.
We stopped at Tanguche, the girls told us Kate had been through a few days prior, she is one person they would remember by name.
If this and the relatively flat road were not present I would have been at a standstill.
I was getting a bit concerned about it all.
We arrived at Chuquicara at about 1600 and bumped into some Peace Corps guys who had ridden from Caraz. They had booked the last room at the gas station.
We found other accommodation across the road.
Now this was a true desert town, one street, bordered by a rock cliff one side and the gorge of the Santa on the other. Buildings were mostly mud brick, a colour that of the little soil found here, a colour that flowed into the environment.
All this was cacooned in the most beautiful of desert blue skies. Woman sold oranges, the few trucks passing through stopped at the two restaurants.
Our room was was a budget affair, two beds, a couple of blankets, the owner showed us the loo. We had a great choice of rocks to shit behind at the rear of the building.
He and I laughed, I had said we were happy with a look on my face that conveyed an ease with the situation.
I slept for an hour before dinner.
These people are practical, their lives revolve around things other than toilets, anyone turning up here expecting something else would need to seriously consider their overnight itinerary.
Me, I was totally used to ablutions outside the confines of walls, Deirdre, not quite so, though no choice was on offer. Our room had no power and a big hole in the wall by the door. No problems with locking the key inside here.
We enjoyed tea with the two peace Corp guys. They are always interesting people, people who in the early parts of their lives are givers and helpers.
We spoke about the corps policy on diarrhea, they are told after three days to take Ciprofloxacin.
Luckily Deirdres doctor had given her some, so one tab was taken before bed, though not before finding a suitable rock out the back of the motel.
The evenings are very comfortable, not cold nor to hot. Needless to say our room was well ventilated, thankfully insects were few at night.
We are both hoping that a clean water bottle and the Cipro will beat the runs.
24/5/2013 Chuquicara to Yuratmarca
D53, T4.5/9, Av11.09, Max35, Tot14488, 4423
Fine 31°, strong westerlies
Waking up after just the best nights sleep without having to visit the rear of the lodgings.
The sandflies were atrocious early morning, ankles and legs their landing strips, my legs were checkered after they had finished.
Feeling better and actually going to the toilet only to urinate, my enthusiasm had returned, we were both wrapped. Another tab was taken.
Leaving town without eating too much, except for a few boiled eggs and coffee. The road took us deeper into this rocky world of mountains, a black river and the visible seams that made it so.
We bumped into two other cyclists I met at Trujillo, an Argentinian and French guy, stopping for a chat, they were heading the same way as us.
There were many shutes and conveyors that fed coal to the roadside and into waiting trucks, though none appeared active. Their aftermath was a black and filthy dust in their vicinity.
Wherever water could be gravity fed, people were living, so common place here in Peru so far in these harsh environments, whether they be steep or arid.
It was so nice to be feeling half normal, though still weak. Really as said before had the road been steep, I would have been unable to cope with the effort required. It was great to have company.
Telling Deirdre if she wasn’t with me I may not have left Chuquicara.
The scenery just kept getting more rewarding, with huge rock formations half way up a mountain twisted and shaped with heat from eons ago.
The river continued to roar as it raced west to water crops and finally discharge its lifeless water into the pacific at Chimbote.
Further upstream the water colour changed to ochre, maybe the coal pollution had lessened?
We stopped to wash and relax at a small crystal clear stream on the roadside, it felt so nice on our dusty dry skin.
Riding was difficult on the road surface, that of loose rocks, loose dust and worse of all medium sized rocks half buried. Believe me you felt each and every one.
An email from Kate, relayed that her padded pants, had seen the light of day, all day enroute.
At Huaruchiri we stopped for lunch and caught up with the other two guys, we all ate well here and rested for an hour or more.
Me, most of that time was spent eating oranges, drinking coke, chatting and loading water securely.
Riding on and coming to a bridge where some engineers were assessing it, a truck was parked awaiting passage. The guys were carrying a brand new rock drill worth 1 million dollars, it was being delivered to begin exploration for gold in the mountains.
We had already passed through some tunnels, these were dodgey affairs, one way and some really dark, it was easy to get disorientated inside.
Nearing 1400 we were both getting worn out, the last part of the road climbed up to the pueblito of Yuracmarca.
A farmer was asked if we could camp on his property, it was all good. We had water and a brilliant 360° vista of the Andes under the light an almost full moon.
A moon that revealed another side of these huge, barren, rock laden formations that had been our company since leaving the Pan Am.
We both looked at each other and said “Hey, here we are riding pushbikes through the Andes in Peru, sharing this part of the world with these lovely, friendly people who call this subtly beautiful world home.
Sometimes you really have to have a reality check. This is our reality. Everyone encountered here in the mountains makes life on a pushbike so easy.
D92, T7, Av13.25, Max 39, Tot14379, 4314
Fine, 30, cool sth westerlies
Deirdre and I were late getting away, I feel here I can safely blame Lujo. It was no big deal, he had Deirdre s bike locked up after replacing the cones in the axles.
We took a few photos and said goodbye to the other cyclists staying there.
Lujo got his daily exercise escorting us to the main road south.
It had been a great time in Trujillo.
Soon as we got out of the city limits, desert like conditions on both sides of the highway prevailed. What a harsh environment. Some satellite towns were hanging onto to each grain of sand, maintaining their existence.
I had left Trujillo with diarrhea, its grip or lack thereof within got me about 30km into the trip. Luckily, sugar cane delivered me from full view from the highway.
It was quite amazing what the Peruanos have done here in the desert, sugarcane, avocados and many other tree crops were thriving in huge plantations on both sides of the road.
The terrain was was largely flat and easy going, though temps were in the low 30’s it was unnoticeable.
It was a pleasure to be riding with Deirdre again, she is easy to get on with. An unspoken ease exists.
Knowing we were going to be camping tonight, we stocked up a few supplies in Puente Chao.
Fifteen km south of here we turned off onto a gravel road. At the guard post we stocked up on water from the attendant. It was so kind of him to let us help ourselves from his large blue bottle.
We headed into this brown, dry, rocky world for about 4km. By now it was 1630, time to look for a camp.
Coming across a cluster of concrete walls standing in the middle of nowhere, though obviously related to the irrigation canal that ran beneath the road nearby.
There was a track that led up to an elevated position. Deirdre looked after the bikes whilst I went to investigate. We were truly in luck, below me was a 5mx5mx 2.5m open concrete tank type enclosure, that may have once been used to hold tar to line the concrete canals.
This was camp for the night, out of the wind, obscured from the road and with a smooth bedding surface in an otherwise shattered rock environment.
By now the diarrhea had become a preoccupation. The last part of the ride was energy sapping, even though it was flat road.
Our camp was like a desert bunker and every hour I had to involuntarily venture forth into hostile territory to lay a booby trap. At least there was plenty of scope for not duplicating their positioning.
I was now very weak, no nourishment had been taken from my food all day. Even though we ate well in Puente Chao.
It was a pleasure to see the sun setting over to the west and the Pan American, a road we were glad to have departed.
We watched a movie, Deirdre slept, whilst most of my night was spend putting thongs on and scaling the side of our refuge to take up a position best suited to a chair.
Toilet paper glowed in the moonlight as it rode the fresh breeze, this environment would soon see its biodegradable demise.
At least, a full moon was in the making, the surrounding landscape took on a hue, that of more than just silhouettes. It made this cyclic chore half bearable.
The westerlies still blew, though not cold.
24/5/2013 Bunker to Chuquicara
D56, T4/9, Av13.6, Max35 Tot14434, 4370
It had been a hard night to say the least, arising, energy levels were at an ebb. Though knowing I had to eat. Deirdre had porridge and raisins, that, boiled eggs and coffee was eaten though not fully enjoyed.
My first warning to her was tread carefully, we got some good laughs from my misfortune.
Packing up and lifting all the gear and bikes from our retreat we headed off down the flat but very rough gravel road winding through a moonscape, offering vistas that had the power to take my mind off my health.
Every 5km, a compulsory stop was made. Deirdre understood,Peter had tried to ride in this condition but had been unable to eat. It was his undoing.
Food, water and hope were my only exits from this condition, which like cold and seasickness can leave one not really caring what happens.
One thing in our favour as the day wore on was strong tailwinds out of the west.
We enjoyed lunch in amongst a heap of boulders roadside, that of coffee, tuna, crackers and bread.
During lunch on filling my water bottle, a bright green, very much alive algae was seen growing all around the neck and lid of my water bottle. Shit, maybe this was it.
We were quietly confident. Water was boiled and it was immersed for sometime. In hindsight I had been a bit loose yonder for a week or two. I had no chance if this was the problem, water from here was consumed all day everyday on the road.
We had been following the Rio Santa most of the day, sadly this river runs almost black, there is a ton of coal in the ranges throughout its length. Those gathering it have concerns other than the environment it would appear.
The river could be heard all day as its surface was broken by rocks in its passage. It is so fortunate that there is so much water here, many small tributaries were running into it. Some were crystal clear, it was so sad to see their purity immediately obliterated by the Santa.
Millions of dollars have been spent in this environment of mostly just shattered rock mountains, where only a few cacti had been able to live comfortably in it without an artificial water supply.
Huge concrete irrigation channels were seen running roadside. To think that just the average rock here could not even be moved by a human, mans ability to build machinery that can work this land. There is not even any soil here!!! Just sharp bloody huge rocks and some smooth where water in the past had been.
Mining tracks were seen traversing the most steepest mountains, tracks taking people to search for gold and coal.
Late afternoon we were being pushed along by a brisk westerly.
We stopped at Tanguche, the girls told us Kate had been through a few days prior, she is one person they would remember by name.
If this and the relatively flat road were not present I would have been at a standstill.
I was getting a bit concerned about it all.
We arrived at Chuquicara at about 1600 and bumped into some Peace Corps guys who had ridden from Caraz. They had booked the last room at the gas station.
We found other accommodation across the road.
Now this was a true desert town, one street, bordered by a rock cliff one side and the gorge of the Santa on the other. Buildings were mostly mud brick, a colour that of the little soil found here, a colour that flowed into the environment.
All this was cacooned in the most beautiful of desert blue skies. Woman sold oranges, the few trucks passing through stopped at the two restaurants.
Our room was was a budget affair, two beds, a couple of blankets, the owner showed us the loo. We had a great choice of rocks to shit behind at the rear of the building.
He and I laughed, I had said we were happy with a look on my face that conveyed an ease with the situation.
I slept for an hour before dinner.
These people are practical, their lives revolve around things other than toilets, anyone turning up here expecting something else would need to seriously consider their overnight itinerary.
Me, I was totally used to ablutions outside the confines of walls, Deirdre, not quite so, though no choice was on offer. Our room had no power and a big hole in the wall by the door. No problems with locking the key inside here.
We enjoyed tea with the two peace Corp guys. They are always interesting people, people who in the early parts of their lives are givers and helpers.
We spoke about the corps policy on diarrhea, they are told after three days to take Ciprofloxacin.
Luckily Deirdres doctor had given her some, so one tab was taken before bed, though not before finding a suitable rock out the back of the motel.
The evenings are very comfortable, not cold nor to hot. Needless to say our room was well ventilated, thankfully insects were few at night.
We are both hoping that a clean water bottle and the Cipro will beat the runs.
24/5/2013 Chuquicara to Yuratmarca
D53, T4.5/9, Av11.09, Max35, Tot14488, 4423
Fine 31°, strong westerlies
Waking up after just the best nights sleep without having to visit the rear of the lodgings.
The sandflies were atrocious early morning, ankles and legs their landing strips, my legs were checkered after they had finished.
Feeling better and actually going to the toilet only to urinate, my enthusiasm had returned, we were both wrapped. Another tab was taken.
Leaving town without eating too much, except for a few boiled eggs and coffee. The road took us deeper into this rocky world of mountains, a black river and the visible seams that made it so.
We bumped into two other cyclists I met at Trujillo, an Argentinian and French guy, stopping for a chat, they were heading the same way as us.
There were many shutes and conveyors that fed coal to the roadside and into waiting trucks, though none appeared active. Their aftermath was a black and filthy dust in their vicinity.
Wherever water could be gravity fed, people were living, so common place here in Peru so far in these harsh environments, whether they be steep or arid.
It was so nice to be feeling half normal, though still weak. Really as said before had the road been steep, I would have been unable to cope with the effort required. It was great to have company.
Telling Deirdre if she wasn’t with me I may not have left Chuquicara.
The scenery just kept getting more rewarding, with huge rock formations half way up a mountain twisted and shaped with heat from eons ago.
The river continued to roar as it raced west to water crops and finally discharge its lifeless water into the pacific at Chimbote.
Further upstream the water colour changed to ochre, maybe the coal pollution had lessened?
We stopped to wash and relax at a small crystal clear stream on the roadside, it felt so nice on our dusty dry skin.
Riding was difficult on the road surface, that of loose rocks, loose dust and worse of all medium sized rocks half buried. Believe me you felt each and every one.
An email from Kate, relayed that her padded pants, had seen the light of day, all day enroute.
At Huaruchiri we stopped for lunch and caught up with the other two guys, we all ate well here and rested for an hour or more.
Me, most of that time was spent eating oranges, drinking coke, chatting and loading water securely.
Riding on and coming to a bridge where some engineers were assessing it, a truck was parked awaiting passage. The guys were carrying a brand new rock drill worth 1 million dollars, it was being delivered to begin exploration for gold in the mountains.
We had already passed through some tunnels, these were dodgey affairs, one way and some really dark, it was easy to get disorientated inside.
Nearing 1400 we were both getting worn out, the last part of the road climbed up to the pueblito of Yuracmarca.
A farmer was asked if we could camp on his property, it was all good. We had water and a brilliant 360° vista of the Andes under the light an almost full moon.
A moon that revealed another side of these huge, barren, rock laden formations that had been our company since leaving the Pan Am.
We both looked at each other and said “Hey, here we are riding pushbikes through the Andes in Peru, sharing this part of the world with these lovely, friendly people who call this subtly beautiful world home.
Sometimes you really have to have a reality check. This is our reality. Everyone encountered here in the mountains makes life on a pushbike so easy.
Road building, the Peruanos can take you anywhere on relatively level roads
Lunch at Huarachiri with the other guys
Third nights camp on a property at Yuracmarca
Typical tunnel scene, some thirty were ridden through, most short and all one way.
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This formation was striking, with all the fractured rock and this arc. Its hard to imagine the forces and randomness here in the past.
Typical, though not occupied dwelling.
What water can do here.
Turning back was not an option
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25/52013,Yuratmarca to Caraz
D53, T8, Av12, Tot14541, 4476
Fine, 30°, westerlies and crystal clear glary sunlight
Rising early to clear mountain air and the ever present blue sky, porridge tea and coffee were enjoyed. I thanked the owner and we moved on into town for a bigger breakfast.
Again, the road kept following the Rio Santo. The scenery continued to amaze us. We bumped into the other guys who had camped in the town park.
We were now having to ride through many more tunnels, eating dust all the way. Almost all traffic on the road was mine related.
The dry air and the dust required we drank continuously and chewed gum to keep our mouths moist.
Really, it was very easy riding, gentle slopes and great scenery. The road surface was the only detraction.
We stopped for lunch of soup, coffee, boiled eggs and biscuits by the river, next to a power station. Very romantic I might add.
Rounding a bend some 5km on we unexpectedly hit asphalt, what a pleasure.
Good time was made, this saw us arrive in Caraz at 1630 hours. The hostal Sauna Quespisicia was booked. A luxurious affair. There was hot water aplenty.
My tent was washed as it had got a bit of mould on the inner. We both washed clothes and relaxed before heading out for dinner.
Our first snow capped peak was seen to the east of town, that of Huandoy. The next week will see us climb to 4800m, with this ascent snow will increasingly become familiar.
D53, T8, Av12, Tot14541, 4476
Fine, 30°, westerlies and crystal clear glary sunlight
Rising early to clear mountain air and the ever present blue sky, porridge tea and coffee were enjoyed. I thanked the owner and we moved on into town for a bigger breakfast.
Again, the road kept following the Rio Santo. The scenery continued to amaze us. We bumped into the other guys who had camped in the town park.
We were now having to ride through many more tunnels, eating dust all the way. Almost all traffic on the road was mine related.
The dry air and the dust required we drank continuously and chewed gum to keep our mouths moist.
Really, it was very easy riding, gentle slopes and great scenery. The road surface was the only detraction.
We stopped for lunch of soup, coffee, boiled eggs and biscuits by the river, next to a power station. Very romantic I might add.
Rounding a bend some 5km on we unexpectedly hit asphalt, what a pleasure.
Good time was made, this saw us arrive in Caraz at 1630 hours. The hostal Sauna Quespisicia was booked. A luxurious affair. There was hot water aplenty.
My tent was washed as it had got a bit of mould on the inner. We both washed clothes and relaxed before heading out for dinner.
Our first snow capped peak was seen to the east of town, that of Huandoy. The next week will see us climb to 4800m, with this ascent snow will increasingly become familiar.
Our first glimpse of snow, here in caraz. Mount Huandoy, or some of it east of town.
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Dry in the foreground, a combination of that and wet behind.
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