23/4/2013 Olmos to Abra de Porculla (2145m)
D56, T10, Av9.24, Max50, 13258, 3255
Fine, hot at lewer altitudes fresh at the summit Porculla
Leaving Los Portales hostal, Olmos early and enjoying breakfast on the street, a sit down affair. I was well aware that diarrhoea had been impacting on me since a huge meat fix the first night in town. I figured the cooking oil had done me in.
It wasn’t bad, but just took the edge off my well being.
An extra roll of toilet paper was bought before leaving town .
It was flat and dry on departing the urban area. All the while the Andes were hazily present in the background to the east. The turn off came, and immediately after that a very slow ascent began.
Riding with a young guy going to studies filled in the first hour.
The scenery was still rocky and very inhospitable, though not to many who call this home.
A homeless guy was wandering along the road, a guy at a truck wash informed me of his predicament, the poor wretched guy. It was a bugger of a place to be wandering with really nowhere to go.
As the ascent began to take me deeper into the range, the vegetation became more lush. The gradients were great, the road just slowly climbed, winding above itself many times. Luckily the temperature now was cooling off, it was very pleasant.
Water was bought and drank at every place that sold it. I was also carrying 4 litres over and above my two drink bottles.
Groups of school children were following me on the road at times, they could keep up with my 6-7km/hr ascent. Another young guy on his new birthday present rode with me for some time.
The kids coming down the hill from school on bikes were travelling at wreckless speeds, one bike had 3 on it doing at least 40km/hr, ironically an ambulance was following it.
The scenery was getting better with every meter climbed, as was the temperature.
Every corner had epitaphs to those who had lost their lives on the road. Some were fairly elaborate, some sadly were brand new.
Come 1630 the time came to look for a campsite. The terrain offered nothing. Finding one marginal spot on a corner, upon heading into the shrubs etc. I could still be seen from the road.
This wouldn’t do, I had to keep going.
The stopping had made me very cold. Changing into an icebreaker top and my jumper helped.
Cruising on but still sweating, the climbing still continued, then around a bend it settled a bit. A pass could be seen a kilometre ahead.
It was indeed the summit, thankfully.
A small pueblo was at its peak.
The locals were not too keen on having me on their properties, though one guy said it was ok but the site was not really suitable. Thanking him he told me some people down the road might be fine with me on their property.
The difference in the landscape was amazing it went from lush to bone dry and windy.
A kilometre on a mud brick group of houses was stopped at. Carlos, the father said it was all good.
It was nearly dark, but light was cast by a full moon. Once my tent was up Carlos came over for a coffee as we had arranged, “traes una taza” were my last words,
We enjoyed a coffee and he and his family finished off eating the meal I cooked and couldn’t eat it all.
They had 2 hectares, five cows, no electricity and a small garden where they grew corn and garlic among other things.
They were a mountain farming family and were very poor in a material sense.
Typical of many people up here, the children were very shy, I don’t think his son went to school but the other children did.
As the night wore on the wind started increasing.out of the NE. It had been a huge day, The shits had not bothered me during the day though their presence was noticed with a light stomach.
Of the 56k travelled, 50 had been uphill. The views, the children and others along the way ,truck drivers and just sheer bewilderment at my surroundings more than lessened any perceived burden during this ride.
There was a procession of trucks all day. Those heading down were carrying rice and those going up were carrying fertilizer. There is huge amounts of rice grown the river valley on the other side of the Andes and “en la selva” (the forest) in Amazona. All the truck drivers waved and tooted, many were travelling up and down for that matter not much faster than me, they had heavy loads.
I was in bed at 2000hrs, totally wasted, though feeling cosy and warm, sleeping in long johns and a long sleeved icebreaker. Still the wind continued to blow.
24/4/2013
Porculla to Pucara
D71, T4.5, 6, Av 16.39, max52, tot13329, 3326
Cool to begin with then very hot, dusty and dry
The wind howled all night, my tent was being blown nearly flat at times. There had been nowhere better to camp.
It was a mixed night when it came to sleep, the full moon cast a surreal light on the scene. Getting up early to even more wind. My tent was indeed soon flattened and damaged in the process, the tarp had put to much weight on the poles and one split where the other joins to it. It could be repaired.
Packing up, Carlos son came and watched me carrying a chook that was destined for the pot that evening. Not having breakfast. I thanked Carlos.
Donning my warm gear, the descent down the eastern side of the range began, speeds were held back due to the strong wind.
The terrain was dry and arid to say the least. Goats were the only animals seen.
Though in the river valley people were living and had small plots of maize where ever they could gravity feed water. These grey pipes were everywhere feeding water from a higher source to a house or crop.
It was a pleasurable ride to the River Chamaya at the foot of the range, some 15km down.
Breakfast was enjoyed here, two trucks pulled up, each one had a diver and two police on board.
We started chatting. One of the cops quietly told me they were transporting explosives for the irrigation project further down the valley.
Leaving here the wind was funnelling up the valley. This road all the way from east of Olmos had been carved from solid rock. It was quite awe inspiring the work that must having gone into it.
At times I felt so insignificant in this huge landscape. There were moments when I reminded myself just where I was. It was these times that euphoria was experienced riding through this famous mountain range where ancient peoples long before had carved basic access ways.
Anyway 8km out of Tamba I realized I had left my gloves at the restaurant or they had fallen off the bike. A small town was approached and a wasp was seen on the side of the road, I wanted to go back to see if they could be found. He asked for a ridiculous amount.
He immediately got a lecture on the fact that it was a gringo price and that how could local people pay this. We soon came to an amicable arrangement.
It was a slightly anxious 40 minutes, made worse by the fact he got a flat tyre on the way.
I was separated from my life line and would likely not find the gloves. Both were true comments. They were not found, I must have put them on the back of the bike when I changed. They feel off. Oh well, my loss, someone will put them to good use, I’m sure.
My hands are getting quite leathery from the constant exposure to the sun. They are quite important protection.
Getting back, all was intact and off I rode, unless gloves can be found in Chachapoyos or Cajamarca, Trujillo or Lima will be the next place to find them.
I might just have to wear my cold weather version.
A snack was had roadside in the shade of a not to dangerous cutting. I was immediately surrounded by small native bees, much like the Oz ones, though smaller, they were in my hair, ears and the hairs on my arms, salt may have been their attraction. At least, unlike flies they were not interested in my tuna or bead and oranges.
Riding on forever following the river, a magic downhill ride all day was dampened by the constant head wind, pedalling down slopes was necessary.
The scenery now though still arid in the ranges was a sea of green in the river flats below and alongside the road. The contrast was bizarre.
Soon a huge new dam wall was spotted far below. This is part of a Brazillian Peru project to get water back to Olmos for horticulture.
The have dug a tunnels twenty five km long straight through the Andes back to Olmos, this will carry water from the dam.
The guard at the entrance, a great guy, welcomed me to his country, gave me a pear and water along with many details of the project. In two years time it will be fully commissioned.
I am now always carrying enough water and food to camp if the need arises. Though if it is convenient and practical to push on to a town at days end, this will be done, unless a perfect campsite is found.
Arriving in Pucara at 1600 hrs the Los Mangos was booked.
Anywhere I can I find a motel without steps, so the bike can just be wheeled into the room, the Los Mangos was no exception, it makes life so easy.
It was a relaxed town cradled in the eastern side of the Andes, and very warm.
A good wander about and dinner was enjoyed. Woman were out selling a corn like plant for cuy (guinea pigs are a favourite food here) food, people were lining up.
The bloody diarrhea was still with me!! The motel was comfortable.
25/4/2013 Pucara to Bagua Grande
D114, T9, Av 16.92, Max 56, Tot 13443, 3440
Hot, ( late twenties) dry, dusty with some wind
A coffee was brewed in my room on the Primus.
Breakfast was enjoyed early at the markets, that of papaya juice and 15 huevitos de Cordiniz, these are small boiled eggs from this bird, they are unreal, especially with the chilli sauce. They are common street food in each country visited in SA so far. Bread was bought for the road.
Five eggs for a Sole, good value. A sol equals about 40c $US
Moving further down the river, enjoying just the best riding conditions. Todays ride could be described as petty much 114km gently downhill, sure there were a few little climbs but they were all short lived.
Drinks were again bought at every tienda I passed.
Having to have my first roadside crap was endured among some thorny acacia shrubs. “It” won’t go away.
So to were coco drinks, at the bridge crossing of the river Utcubamba, there was a stall selling them chilled from a chest freezer, two were enjoyed here. They were so refreshing.
I knew what effects of dehydration were and did not want to experience them again.
The department of Amazona had been entered, this is where the bulk of the rice comes from.
The country was now more open, water melon was enjoyed at one stall.
Bagua Grande was now feasible for the night. The wind had again picked up. Luckily its direction was just astern of beam, it actually aided me a liitle bit.
The roads were straight and you could see their terminus” in the far distance.
Funnily enough, these vistas, like huge uphill climbs are no longer daunting, their challenges are welcomed.
Cajas National Park in Ecuador and the long climbs in Colombia, especially north of Medellín and northern Ecuador have conditioned my mind to be in the right place at the onslaught of these challenges. Anything less would render one to a laborious task.
There was a fair distance now of nothing but dry hills and the huge river valley of the Utcubamba. The river is huge as were its gravel beds.
So much rain must fall here during the wet season.
Closer to Bagua Grande rice paddies were becoming more common as the land spread out.
Nearing town both sides of the road were paddies, people were everywhere, planting, digging, resting, driving tractors, it was like Asia except the ranges framing the scene were arid.
A basic but ground level hotel was found, the Monte Christo. Chicharon was savoured on the streets and a huge fix of ice cream was enjoyed at an up market American style set up also doing burgers.
It had been another big day, over indulging in these two delights produced no qualms of guilt as they salubriously slid down my throat. Tomorrow they would be sweat on the pavement.
There was a wasp nest in this town like no other. Intersections on red were reminiscent of flies on a dead sheep.
Bed was another early affair. I am really feeling the effort required on this passage. The diarrhoea does not help. Chachapoyas will be a welcome sight believe me. I will take Imodium there if it still persists.
26/4/2013 Bagua Grande to Pedro Ruiz
D68, T5.13 actual 8, av12.97, Max 56, Tot13510, 3508
Fine hot and became humid closer to Pedro Ruiz
Up early, wanting to get out of this room, I would describe it as “shelter” though I am sure there were better rooms in the establishment. The shower bathroom and toilet were all one under a concrete staircase. The shower left water puddling around the loo.
It is next to the Monti Christo hostal if you want ground level accomadation.
Four visits were made to the loo on getting up and during packing, on each occasion, wet feet were the order. Oh well at 15 soles, I guess complaining falls on deaf ears.
Being ground level was the most important thing.
Breakfast was had across the road at a stall with the locals, a pork skin soup was enjoyed, these soups are meals in themselves.
Leaving town it was a maze of rice fields outside the urban limits.
The Rio Utcubamba was being followed, though upstream, this meant climbing was ahead.
The heat didn’t take long to build, further into the ride the eastern range in the Andes was always present in the distance, soon the road narrowed as it followed the river gorge.
The scenery became so impressive, on my left was the huge Utcubamba, running powerfully with a fawn coloured flow. The opposite banks in most cases were cliffs and steep faces, the former covered in bromeliads, the latter forest. This all rose to a huge range. Crooking my neck was difficult to see the top of it. The landscape on this side of the river was on a grand scale.
Parrots could be heard enjoying this largely inaccessible area.
To my right most of the time was sheer rock cuttings produced during the road building process. Loose stone signs were everywhere as were gabion protection barriers.
The heat and humidity increased as progress was made further up the river.
Bananas and papaya were enjoyed at one stall.
Today was one of those days where I felt flat. The last 3 days had been big and my health was just a tad shabby. I was looking for any excuse to stop. Photos, walking on swing bridges, stopping at waterfalls, making coffee by the river, stopping where ever to get a drink, they were all excuses to just have an easy day.
I knew Pedro Ruiz was a short 65km away.
The road was narrow and you had to concentrate on keeping a straight line, this and the heat coupled with humidity started taking its toll. A tail wind pushed me some way but generally with no air movement due to me moving with it made for extremely hot conditions.
Music played a big role in getting me 3km from town. Some guys offered to give me a lift, they got out of their car and had a yarn, parking in the traffic lane though on a straight section.
They wanted to hear the music that was playing on my ipod. They all had a listen and all enthusiastically approved. Leftfield, an enthusiastic dance band were dragging me through this last section.
The sweat was falling to the ground like a light shower from my face, wrists and legs, it was being replaced with hot water from my bottles, it is all I had.
Drinking hot water is now quite normal, on the Mississippi year before last it was the same case.
The Utcubamba was now a raging torrent in narrow gorges, soon, town was approached.
Arriving in Pedro Ruiz and finding a restaurant, looking for coke in a glass, the only size they had were one litre bottles.
I figured buy it and drink what I can, whilst chatting to the woman and just gathering myself the whole litre was consumed. I feel I may have a problem here!!!!
This riding in these, hot humid conditions and climbing put you in a different space, one that requires huge effort and concentration on personal safety, wobbling at slow speed can be deadly especially on narrow roads. It is so important not to commence riding if a car is coming, generally the first few metres when in this state are all over the road.
The fact you are riding in new surroundings every metre, with surprises round every corner is a big factor in aiding forward progress. To be doing this in these conditions and my state over the same ground for me would be so difficult.
A ground level hospedaje, the Amazonense was found. It is such a nice place, hot water and good light. Highly recommended. Other cyclists have stayed here all with the same opinion.
None of the towns visited so far have had anyone I noticed wearing traditional dress, big brand fakes are very popular.
Beef soup was enjoyed for dinner. The net was checked, it is so slow out here, then it just crashed.
D56, T10, Av9.24, Max50, 13258, 3255
Fine, hot at lewer altitudes fresh at the summit Porculla
Leaving Los Portales hostal, Olmos early and enjoying breakfast on the street, a sit down affair. I was well aware that diarrhoea had been impacting on me since a huge meat fix the first night in town. I figured the cooking oil had done me in.
It wasn’t bad, but just took the edge off my well being.
An extra roll of toilet paper was bought before leaving town .
It was flat and dry on departing the urban area. All the while the Andes were hazily present in the background to the east. The turn off came, and immediately after that a very slow ascent began.
Riding with a young guy going to studies filled in the first hour.
The scenery was still rocky and very inhospitable, though not to many who call this home.
A homeless guy was wandering along the road, a guy at a truck wash informed me of his predicament, the poor wretched guy. It was a bugger of a place to be wandering with really nowhere to go.
As the ascent began to take me deeper into the range, the vegetation became more lush. The gradients were great, the road just slowly climbed, winding above itself many times. Luckily the temperature now was cooling off, it was very pleasant.
Water was bought and drank at every place that sold it. I was also carrying 4 litres over and above my two drink bottles.
Groups of school children were following me on the road at times, they could keep up with my 6-7km/hr ascent. Another young guy on his new birthday present rode with me for some time.
The kids coming down the hill from school on bikes were travelling at wreckless speeds, one bike had 3 on it doing at least 40km/hr, ironically an ambulance was following it.
The scenery was getting better with every meter climbed, as was the temperature.
Every corner had epitaphs to those who had lost their lives on the road. Some were fairly elaborate, some sadly were brand new.
Come 1630 the time came to look for a campsite. The terrain offered nothing. Finding one marginal spot on a corner, upon heading into the shrubs etc. I could still be seen from the road.
This wouldn’t do, I had to keep going.
The stopping had made me very cold. Changing into an icebreaker top and my jumper helped.
Cruising on but still sweating, the climbing still continued, then around a bend it settled a bit. A pass could be seen a kilometre ahead.
It was indeed the summit, thankfully.
A small pueblo was at its peak.
The locals were not too keen on having me on their properties, though one guy said it was ok but the site was not really suitable. Thanking him he told me some people down the road might be fine with me on their property.
The difference in the landscape was amazing it went from lush to bone dry and windy.
A kilometre on a mud brick group of houses was stopped at. Carlos, the father said it was all good.
It was nearly dark, but light was cast by a full moon. Once my tent was up Carlos came over for a coffee as we had arranged, “traes una taza” were my last words,
We enjoyed a coffee and he and his family finished off eating the meal I cooked and couldn’t eat it all.
They had 2 hectares, five cows, no electricity and a small garden where they grew corn and garlic among other things.
They were a mountain farming family and were very poor in a material sense.
Typical of many people up here, the children were very shy, I don’t think his son went to school but the other children did.
As the night wore on the wind started increasing.out of the NE. It had been a huge day, The shits had not bothered me during the day though their presence was noticed with a light stomach.
Of the 56k travelled, 50 had been uphill. The views, the children and others along the way ,truck drivers and just sheer bewilderment at my surroundings more than lessened any perceived burden during this ride.
There was a procession of trucks all day. Those heading down were carrying rice and those going up were carrying fertilizer. There is huge amounts of rice grown the river valley on the other side of the Andes and “en la selva” (the forest) in Amazona. All the truck drivers waved and tooted, many were travelling up and down for that matter not much faster than me, they had heavy loads.
I was in bed at 2000hrs, totally wasted, though feeling cosy and warm, sleeping in long johns and a long sleeved icebreaker. Still the wind continued to blow.
24/4/2013
Porculla to Pucara
D71, T4.5, 6, Av 16.39, max52, tot13329, 3326
Cool to begin with then very hot, dusty and dry
The wind howled all night, my tent was being blown nearly flat at times. There had been nowhere better to camp.
It was a mixed night when it came to sleep, the full moon cast a surreal light on the scene. Getting up early to even more wind. My tent was indeed soon flattened and damaged in the process, the tarp had put to much weight on the poles and one split where the other joins to it. It could be repaired.
Packing up, Carlos son came and watched me carrying a chook that was destined for the pot that evening. Not having breakfast. I thanked Carlos.
Donning my warm gear, the descent down the eastern side of the range began, speeds were held back due to the strong wind.
The terrain was dry and arid to say the least. Goats were the only animals seen.
Though in the river valley people were living and had small plots of maize where ever they could gravity feed water. These grey pipes were everywhere feeding water from a higher source to a house or crop.
It was a pleasurable ride to the River Chamaya at the foot of the range, some 15km down.
Breakfast was enjoyed here, two trucks pulled up, each one had a diver and two police on board.
We started chatting. One of the cops quietly told me they were transporting explosives for the irrigation project further down the valley.
Leaving here the wind was funnelling up the valley. This road all the way from east of Olmos had been carved from solid rock. It was quite awe inspiring the work that must having gone into it.
At times I felt so insignificant in this huge landscape. There were moments when I reminded myself just where I was. It was these times that euphoria was experienced riding through this famous mountain range where ancient peoples long before had carved basic access ways.
Anyway 8km out of Tamba I realized I had left my gloves at the restaurant or they had fallen off the bike. A small town was approached and a wasp was seen on the side of the road, I wanted to go back to see if they could be found. He asked for a ridiculous amount.
He immediately got a lecture on the fact that it was a gringo price and that how could local people pay this. We soon came to an amicable arrangement.
It was a slightly anxious 40 minutes, made worse by the fact he got a flat tyre on the way.
I was separated from my life line and would likely not find the gloves. Both were true comments. They were not found, I must have put them on the back of the bike when I changed. They feel off. Oh well, my loss, someone will put them to good use, I’m sure.
My hands are getting quite leathery from the constant exposure to the sun. They are quite important protection.
Getting back, all was intact and off I rode, unless gloves can be found in Chachapoyos or Cajamarca, Trujillo or Lima will be the next place to find them.
I might just have to wear my cold weather version.
A snack was had roadside in the shade of a not to dangerous cutting. I was immediately surrounded by small native bees, much like the Oz ones, though smaller, they were in my hair, ears and the hairs on my arms, salt may have been their attraction. At least, unlike flies they were not interested in my tuna or bead and oranges.
Riding on forever following the river, a magic downhill ride all day was dampened by the constant head wind, pedalling down slopes was necessary.
The scenery now though still arid in the ranges was a sea of green in the river flats below and alongside the road. The contrast was bizarre.
Soon a huge new dam wall was spotted far below. This is part of a Brazillian Peru project to get water back to Olmos for horticulture.
The have dug a tunnels twenty five km long straight through the Andes back to Olmos, this will carry water from the dam.
The guard at the entrance, a great guy, welcomed me to his country, gave me a pear and water along with many details of the project. In two years time it will be fully commissioned.
I am now always carrying enough water and food to camp if the need arises. Though if it is convenient and practical to push on to a town at days end, this will be done, unless a perfect campsite is found.
Arriving in Pucara at 1600 hrs the Los Mangos was booked.
Anywhere I can I find a motel without steps, so the bike can just be wheeled into the room, the Los Mangos was no exception, it makes life so easy.
It was a relaxed town cradled in the eastern side of the Andes, and very warm.
A good wander about and dinner was enjoyed. Woman were out selling a corn like plant for cuy (guinea pigs are a favourite food here) food, people were lining up.
The bloody diarrhea was still with me!! The motel was comfortable.
25/4/2013 Pucara to Bagua Grande
D114, T9, Av 16.92, Max 56, Tot 13443, 3440
Hot, ( late twenties) dry, dusty with some wind
A coffee was brewed in my room on the Primus.
Breakfast was enjoyed early at the markets, that of papaya juice and 15 huevitos de Cordiniz, these are small boiled eggs from this bird, they are unreal, especially with the chilli sauce. They are common street food in each country visited in SA so far. Bread was bought for the road.
Five eggs for a Sole, good value. A sol equals about 40c $US
Moving further down the river, enjoying just the best riding conditions. Todays ride could be described as petty much 114km gently downhill, sure there were a few little climbs but they were all short lived.
Drinks were again bought at every tienda I passed.
Having to have my first roadside crap was endured among some thorny acacia shrubs. “It” won’t go away.
So to were coco drinks, at the bridge crossing of the river Utcubamba, there was a stall selling them chilled from a chest freezer, two were enjoyed here. They were so refreshing.
I knew what effects of dehydration were and did not want to experience them again.
The department of Amazona had been entered, this is where the bulk of the rice comes from.
The country was now more open, water melon was enjoyed at one stall.
Bagua Grande was now feasible for the night. The wind had again picked up. Luckily its direction was just astern of beam, it actually aided me a liitle bit.
The roads were straight and you could see their terminus” in the far distance.
Funnily enough, these vistas, like huge uphill climbs are no longer daunting, their challenges are welcomed.
Cajas National Park in Ecuador and the long climbs in Colombia, especially north of Medellín and northern Ecuador have conditioned my mind to be in the right place at the onslaught of these challenges. Anything less would render one to a laborious task.
There was a fair distance now of nothing but dry hills and the huge river valley of the Utcubamba. The river is huge as were its gravel beds.
So much rain must fall here during the wet season.
Closer to Bagua Grande rice paddies were becoming more common as the land spread out.
Nearing town both sides of the road were paddies, people were everywhere, planting, digging, resting, driving tractors, it was like Asia except the ranges framing the scene were arid.
A basic but ground level hotel was found, the Monte Christo. Chicharon was savoured on the streets and a huge fix of ice cream was enjoyed at an up market American style set up also doing burgers.
It had been another big day, over indulging in these two delights produced no qualms of guilt as they salubriously slid down my throat. Tomorrow they would be sweat on the pavement.
There was a wasp nest in this town like no other. Intersections on red were reminiscent of flies on a dead sheep.
Bed was another early affair. I am really feeling the effort required on this passage. The diarrhoea does not help. Chachapoyas will be a welcome sight believe me. I will take Imodium there if it still persists.
26/4/2013 Bagua Grande to Pedro Ruiz
D68, T5.13 actual 8, av12.97, Max 56, Tot13510, 3508
Fine hot and became humid closer to Pedro Ruiz
Up early, wanting to get out of this room, I would describe it as “shelter” though I am sure there were better rooms in the establishment. The shower bathroom and toilet were all one under a concrete staircase. The shower left water puddling around the loo.
It is next to the Monti Christo hostal if you want ground level accomadation.
Four visits were made to the loo on getting up and during packing, on each occasion, wet feet were the order. Oh well at 15 soles, I guess complaining falls on deaf ears.
Being ground level was the most important thing.
Breakfast was had across the road at a stall with the locals, a pork skin soup was enjoyed, these soups are meals in themselves.
Leaving town it was a maze of rice fields outside the urban limits.
The Rio Utcubamba was being followed, though upstream, this meant climbing was ahead.
The heat didn’t take long to build, further into the ride the eastern range in the Andes was always present in the distance, soon the road narrowed as it followed the river gorge.
The scenery became so impressive, on my left was the huge Utcubamba, running powerfully with a fawn coloured flow. The opposite banks in most cases were cliffs and steep faces, the former covered in bromeliads, the latter forest. This all rose to a huge range. Crooking my neck was difficult to see the top of it. The landscape on this side of the river was on a grand scale.
Parrots could be heard enjoying this largely inaccessible area.
To my right most of the time was sheer rock cuttings produced during the road building process. Loose stone signs were everywhere as were gabion protection barriers.
The heat and humidity increased as progress was made further up the river.
Bananas and papaya were enjoyed at one stall.
Today was one of those days where I felt flat. The last 3 days had been big and my health was just a tad shabby. I was looking for any excuse to stop. Photos, walking on swing bridges, stopping at waterfalls, making coffee by the river, stopping where ever to get a drink, they were all excuses to just have an easy day.
I knew Pedro Ruiz was a short 65km away.
The road was narrow and you had to concentrate on keeping a straight line, this and the heat coupled with humidity started taking its toll. A tail wind pushed me some way but generally with no air movement due to me moving with it made for extremely hot conditions.
Music played a big role in getting me 3km from town. Some guys offered to give me a lift, they got out of their car and had a yarn, parking in the traffic lane though on a straight section.
They wanted to hear the music that was playing on my ipod. They all had a listen and all enthusiastically approved. Leftfield, an enthusiastic dance band were dragging me through this last section.
The sweat was falling to the ground like a light shower from my face, wrists and legs, it was being replaced with hot water from my bottles, it is all I had.
Drinking hot water is now quite normal, on the Mississippi year before last it was the same case.
The Utcubamba was now a raging torrent in narrow gorges, soon, town was approached.
Arriving in Pedro Ruiz and finding a restaurant, looking for coke in a glass, the only size they had were one litre bottles.
I figured buy it and drink what I can, whilst chatting to the woman and just gathering myself the whole litre was consumed. I feel I may have a problem here!!!!
This riding in these, hot humid conditions and climbing put you in a different space, one that requires huge effort and concentration on personal safety, wobbling at slow speed can be deadly especially on narrow roads. It is so important not to commence riding if a car is coming, generally the first few metres when in this state are all over the road.
The fact you are riding in new surroundings every metre, with surprises round every corner is a big factor in aiding forward progress. To be doing this in these conditions and my state over the same ground for me would be so difficult.
A ground level hospedaje, the Amazonense was found. It is such a nice place, hot water and good light. Highly recommended. Other cyclists have stayed here all with the same opinion.
None of the towns visited so far have had anyone I noticed wearing traditional dress, big brand fakes are very popular.
Beef soup was enjoyed for dinner. The net was checked, it is so slow out here, then it just crashed.
These guys had the right idea
Half way into the 50km climb, the scenery was something else
First night at the top of the range, the tree gives you an idea of conditions up here.
Over the top and how the scenery changed, so arid and barren.
Further down the valley east, the valleys were lush.
Dengue is a bad problem here especially in Jaén.
The rear sign was welcome, not the little yellow one.
The girl on the left is the best kebab cook on the highway, we had some laughes together while I ate chicken and drank chicha morada, good for the kidneys.
Typical river scene.
They didn't figure the river may change course.
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Quite a gathering
Every corner had a bunch of these.
A bit of early morning business in the Andes, Northern Peru.
Where they could gravity feed water things grew.
New dam, a pipe line 25km through the range to Olmos will provide water for horticulture.
Food for cuy, guinea pigs which are widely eaten here, Pucara.
The contrasts were unreal, near Bagua Grande.
Breakfast Bagua Grande
Bromeliads hung on all cliff faces
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