Trying to get to Lima proved far more difficult than we had expected but after 4 busses and a long time spent stood on the side of the main road we made it. Ahead lay 2 days with an old friend who I used to work with in Vietnam; he was kind enough to put us up in his TV room though he wasn’t sure if to offer he said as he didn’t know if it would be comfortable enough for us!! Little does he know of the trials and tribulations of cycle touring, I think his TV room as he called it has been one of the nicest places we have stayed, we had a huge TV and Netflix as well as a comfy bed, what more could two cyclists want?! We were treated to good food and great company and it was exactly what Jess and I needed after the brutal first leg of the Peru Divide, not to mention my getting altitude sick. We did a few errands, mainly spare parts for Johnny’s rapidly crumbling bike and the rest of the time was spent relaxing, as well as having a few beers for old times sake. All too soon we were back looking for buses to take us back to Chicla but this time feeling a whole lot more relaxed and ready for the next stage of the Peru Divide. If you’re reading this Matt and family thanks for a perfect mini break from our cycling holiday, you can’t understand just how refreshing it was for us!!! The journey back to Chicla was far easier than our escapades into Lima, and we made it back to our hotel with relative ease. We arrived back to meet two other cyclists, Dean and Dang, from the Philippines (@pedalling_slow). We met these two bikepackers at Jo’s Place in Huaraz but they left to take on some alternative route but with the hope of catching us somewhere down the trail. With this we took our peloton to 6 and agreed to roll out after one last rest day, travelling by bus is exhausting and Johnny had to replace all his broken parts was our excuse for this. We were also keen to see how these bikepackers fitted everything into their visible lack of storage space, or more to the point, we were keen to see what luxuries they had to go without! We had a late start from the hotel, one last round of egg butties was needed, and began a steep climb straight from the off, is that what the whole of the second stage is going to be like??? Luckily it was only a short stint and before we knew it the climb had mellowed and we had all found our rhythm, that is until Dang suffered a split sidewall and needed a road side repair job Bikepackers 0, touring bikes 1! With bike maintenance and a late start coupled with ever darkening clouds we called it a day and camped by a lake. We were later told we would have to be gone by 8am from this spot for some un-be known reason, safe to say we were not ready and packed by 8am but no reprimand was inflicted for our tardiness. The next few days saw us passing through more mountainous scenery that kept us distracted from the ups and downs we were facing. Most afternoon we would see the blue skies become tempestuous the threats of rain became more real, in fact we became used to looking for a camp spot earlier than usual to avoid the certain downpour, usually trying to make sure we weren't on the top of a pass!! We were caught in a few showers, or depending how high on a pass we were hail or snow, on one occasion we pushed on in ever worsening weather in the hope of camping at some hot springs that we had been told about, we could handle getting a little damp and cold if it meant our heroic efforts were rewarded with a long hot soak in some thermal pools. This plan didn’t quiet turn out as hoped. Luke warm and looking slightly stagnant the water was far from what we had envisioned, instead we opted to place our tents on the only flat, non marshy land we could find and give it up for a bad day. The bad weather continued and for only maybe the third time since entering Peru we awoke to very British weather; damp, cold and grey! This continued throughout the day only to be broken by spells of torrential horizontal rain. To make this day even more entertaining we hit a section of the trail were mountain bike skills became the necessity. Single track and a bit of hike-a-bike (carrying your bike) were made all the more challenging by the slippy gloop we were navigating our way through. Lucky with 6 there was always a helping hand on the overly difficult sections. It is times like these, when the weather is horrible and the roads are tough, that it’s great being with so many other cyclists. We are all suffering together and that somehow makes it almost fun. On our own, moral would have been low during this stretch, but with the group we all got through with smiles, even though we were soaked to the bone, especially me with my less than waterproof, waterproof jacket. At the top of the hike a bike section we were rewarded with views of a lake and a super scenic ride into Vilca, a small town with stunning scenery. Never before have I seen a river with a forest growing from it or with so many lakes. The scenery was so good and the weather so miserable we decided to call it a day early and take refuge. Our hostel, if you can call it that, was overlooking the mountains and a huge waterfall framed by a colonial bridge; unfortunately, said hostel did not come with hot water as there was a power cut that lasted the whole night. The next day saw us pick up were we left off following the river only this time we had no rain, we descended to what we had heard was a touristy town and with it our hopes of wifi and a hot shower grew. Unfortunately this town was crazily over priced and could not offer either of what we sought. After a lengthy stretch of faffing looking for some form of decent accommodation we gave up and rode out, a wasted half day meant we had covered a pitiful distance but when a camp spot overlooking a lake with the prospect of a fire materialised we once again called it a day with the promise that tomorrow we would start making more distance. With Dean and Dang needing to pick a package up a much needed, ok not much needed but wanted rest was in order. Dean, not so lucky, had a 5am get up to catch a bus to Huancayo in order to forward on his belongings he didn’t want to carry; we on the other hand did nothing more than drink copious amounts of coffee and devour on obscene number of fried egg sandwiches. Our one rest day then turned to two when Dean got stranded in Huancayo as there was no bus back. Two was then extended to three when Johnny was struck down by what we think was a rogue egg. All in all a very relaxing few days was had with not much to do. At some point during our third rest day another cyclists Joe joined us. Seeing how much fun we were having on our rest days he opted to call it a day early and join our ever-expanding motley crew. Johnny adamant that he was over the worst of it was keen to push on and finally get out of Larous, a decision he soon regretted as the climbs were steep and his energy levels were non existent; we took an early camp with the hope that the next day would show some improvement in his health. Our hopes were in vain; if anything he was worse and the 4970m pass that lay ahead of him did nothing to help his motivation. The morning was spent shuttling his bike then returning for my own, this was done over an 8km stretch before the rest of the group realised something was wrong and came to help. As tough as this pass was it was still a stunning ride with again unbelievable views. I would have preferred to only do it once though rather than taking two bikes up and over the pass! It was here our new friend Joe decided we were too slow, he was hoping to ride the whole way to Bolivia where we had already decided that a bus was happening somewhere down the line. He had bugged off before we reached the top but luckily he left us some sublimes as a parting gift, I’ve previously said all of life’s problems could probably be solved with a sublime so all was forgiven when we learnt of his abandonment! With the climbing done Johhny was able to hang on and let gravity do the rest, Jess at this point, maybe feeling left out as I hadn’t been giving her any attention let gravity do a little too much and did her best impression of superman. Luckily it wasn’t a high-speed crash and the only ill effects were a bruised ego and a sore hip. After this we all took it slightly slower, which consequently meant the predictable afternoon showers soon caught up with us. Not wanting to camp high we rode on through the deteriorating weather until we stumbled upon a mining camp. Dean was first in asking for some form of shelter to pitch our tents and ended up coming out with accommodation, free food and even wifi for us all. It’s funny, we couldn’t find wifi in the towns or villages but you come to the armpit of nowhere and you can get probably one of the better connections we’ve had in the whole of Peru! The only down side of our evenings accommodation were the unwanted guests our bikes played host to during the night, a dry bag filled with our lunches was no match for some hungry rats. Looks like we were going to be on very meagre rations for the next few days!! With two decent meals and a good nights sleep Johnny was back to health and able to ride his own bike, which was a relief. It also meant we were able to smash out two passes and find camp before the inevitable weather closed in on us. Turns out we hadn’t quite gone low enough though, the usual rain materialised in the form of hail and snow, still with the tents up we were able to hunker down in the comfort of our sleeping bags and enjoy the show that mother nature provided. By morning the snow had melted and we were rewarded with perfect blue skies, in-fact by 8am we were already feeling the heat with layers being shed before we had even left camp. We were even visited by some locals, not sure who was more intrigued, the Alpacas with the herd of gringos or the gringos with the herd of Alpacas. Leaving camp left a marked change to the norm with more rolling hills, in-fact before this route I would have called these mountains but compared to the 2 or 3 day monsters we have become accustomed to, they barely registered as hills for the legs. Well, until we reached the last climb of the day that saw us going uphill for roughly 14km. With 2 km to the top a wide-open expanse proved too tempting and we set up camp with time to relax. The joy of camping so close to the top of a pass is the certain downhill that awaits you. The downside is the below freezing temperatures you awake to. With the cold weather penetrating every layer we donned we began a desperate search for a town with hot coffee and some much needed food, we were really starting to resent the rats from the mine at this point! The first sign of civilisation turned up no hot liquid goodness, in fact, it felt deserted, not even a dog came to greet us. The same problem occurred in the second village we rolled through, by this point moral was starting to dwindle, the expectations of coffee were high and food was becoming more of a necessity than a luxury. At a loss of what was happening we pushed on knowing that we had one more chance at a town to refuel and re-stock at. Upon arriving in this small town we realised why everywhere else was deserted, we trundled into a round of applause from a local fiesta and by the feel of things we had just become the star guests. We parked our bikes and were quickly sought out by who we assumed was the mayor, he assured us that our bikes were perfectly safe here and went on to force feed us all a shot of god only knows what. It was also here that I developed a newfound sympathy for celebrities. I was hungry and a little tired, I could see a restaurant but due to the constant demands for photos it took me at least 20minutes to even get an order in. The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to figure out what the hell was going on, having our photo taken and searching for somewhere to stay. Eventually we were shown to a school classroom where we could spend the night and store our bikes securely, the drunker the locals got the more worried we came of all our bikes parked in the middle of it all. From this point on we could join the party with gusto. Beers and dancing followed as we showed the locals how the gringos dance, safe to say non of us represented the west very well as we were all limited in our skills on the dance floor. The Macarena seemed to be a hit though!!! Just as we were really getting in to the swing of things the caretaker of the school came to collect us, apparently we had a curfew that we were not aware of. Johnny and Ryan, both single may I add, weren’t too impressed with this enforced bedtime, especially as it was only 9pm. Many attempts were made by both men, one including the offer of 50 soles to allow us to stay up a little later, but the caretaker, thinking ahead for us, was insistent that it was a good time for bed as we had a long way to cycle the next day. With no other option we retired to our sleeping bags and were lulled to sleep by the never-ending symphony by one of the many bands that were rocking the stage. The next morning we were rather happy we had called it a day when we did, still, a tough morning was had while we sweated the beers out of our system as we climbed the pass. Turns out beer is not the best fuel for a day on the bike. We did manage to top out and make it to Huancavelica, this marked the end of the second leg of the Peru Divide and still feeling the previous nights antics we opted for a day of rest without the beers. Our adventures on the Peru divide continued to leave us in awe and amazement at the vistas and terrain we had ridden through, another epic stretch of riding that was made all the better for having 4 other cyclists to do it with. From here we will take the third stage but jump off early to get to Cusco and Machu Picchu
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With our accommodation being somewhat famous amongst cyclist, staying at Jo’s Place meant there was no shortage of cyclists coming and going. Two such cyclists, Johnny, from Ireland and Ryan, from America were hoping to do at least the first half of the great divide. With our date of departure matching theirs we decided to join forces and take on this famous route as a foursome. Opting to save ourselves a days ride up the main road we jumped on a bus that was surprisingly happy to take four loaded touring bikes, ok so ours was no longer fully loaded, we had heard that the next stage was going to be a tough one and after our earlier experiences in Peru we were all too keen to shed some weight. Peru it turns out has an amazing service that allows you to send luggage to set destinations for very little cost, after some advice from other cyclists who couldn’t understand why we hadn’t made the most of this service already, we shipped all of our hiking equipment to Lima, we now had one month in which to get there to claim it! We set off with great excitement of what lay ahead, we turned off the main highway and waved goodbye to tarmac for the next 8 or so days. With a short day we picked out our first campsite, already the Peru Divide was meeting expectations as we pitched our tents with a view of the Huayhuash in the distance. The second day gave us an amazing descent that tested our downhill skills, Jess with new brakes that performed no better was somewhat more sensible than the rest of us, that was until Johnny got a little carried away and ended up splitting the sidewall of his tyre. Insult was later added to injury when he got a second puncture, this was a pattern that was set to follow for the next few days. Next on the Divide’s hit list was Jess who awoke to a flat front tyre, Johnny then wanting to out do her went on to get 3 more punctures before we decided to call it a day in an abandoned mining town at our low point for the day, from here we had a 3500m climb to look forward to. We attacked the climb with gusto and determination, mainly due to our distinct lack of water, even though we camped next the river it didn’t look the cleanest to drink from and we knew there was, or hopefully was, a waterfall not too far up the canyon. With our water bottles filled we were back into the climbing, this time we made it a whole 2km, our progress was halted by the appearance of a small shop selling snacks, a necessity with two days of climbing ahead of us, we were also told that in a further 10km up the road there was a restaurant; ideal! Less than ideal is when you push on to the expected restaurant with rumbling bellies dreaming of the delights of rice and chicken, only to find it has a limited supply of snacks and a hot shower! The owners, who in England would have probably been put in a home many years ago, sensed our desperation at the situation; with a fresh supply of eggs and bread in stock we were able to order up fried egg sandwiches, the owners did seem a little taken aback when Jess and myself ordered 10, then Ryan ordered a further 4 followed by Johnny trying to take their remanding supply of bread for some tuna sandwiches. After some deliberation, maybe the reason they should of been in a home, maybe our poor Spanish we managed to get our fill of eggs and bread and were on our way. From here the climbing really kicked in and before long the egg butties were a distant memory, now all we could think about was the next snack stop. That was until Johnny got yet another puncture. We deduced that it must be the inside of his tyre and while Johnny went about patching his quickly diminishing inner tube Jess and I used the duck-tape to the inside of the tyre trick that worked so well on Jess’ tyre back when we started riding Peru. The switchback continued and with legs failing we opted to dive on the first flatish bit of land we could find and set up camp, it was here Johnny found out he had been riding with his back brake on, an justifiable explanation as to why he was looking so beat even with a high sublime diet he had been taking. (Sublime is our favourite snack of Peru, a chocolate block filled with peanuts, on more than one occasion it has been the answer to many of life’s problems) With us suffering more than enough bike mechanicals to last the rest of the trip we prayed we had seen the last of any tyre leavers and inner tubes. We carried on the climb knowing that we would make it to a town for some much needed resupplies, as well as a real meal rather than the bread we had been lunching on. Cajatambo delivered on all fronts. We gorged ourselves on rice, chips and meat as well as soup for starter, we even managed to squeeze in some Jelly and cake just before we left. With bags refilled, and feeling a whole lot heavier we once again returned to the continuing uphill. It was just as the day was coming to an end that yet another puncture struck, a brief photo stop and a quick joke with Johnny as I waited making sure he hadn’t suffered yet another flat when I realised the joke was on me. Even worse, Jess had just ridden off with our puncture repair kit and our spare inner tubes!!! A quick fix with Johnny’s rapidly decreasing patches and we were on the road again. Luckily the others, figuring Johnny had succumbed to another injustice by the adventure gods had stopped by an idyllic camp spot and with the weather turning we wasted no time in getting the tents and taking shelter just as the worst of the weather hit. From our camp we knew we were in striking distance of a major town where a much needed night in a hotel and a hot shower was the order of the day, all we had to do was make it over the top of this climb, 4850m, and then it would be a well earned descent to roughly 3500m. We rolled into Oyon tired, hungry and in dire need of a shower. The descent was stunning but with rough roads and photo stops at every bend, it had taken us longer than we thought. We found the plaza and checked a few of the nearest hotels. For some reason, this small town in the armpit of nowhere was proving to be the most expensive area for accommodation. Rather begrudgingly we forked over the money and found ourselves in a basic room. Insult to injury, the hot water we had been promised was somewhat lacking leaving myself and Jess with mild hypothermia after our attempts at a shower. The boys opted to wait til morning and gleefully reported on scalding water temperatures for all of 5 minutes before the boiler ran dry! We tried to make the most of the extortionate price and hung around eating and general internet-ting until midday, we then once again started to climb. In hindsight half a days rest was not enough, especially for what lay ahead. The road became steeper and with 3 days of climbing already in our legs we began to fade. A measly 13km from Oyon and we were done, we set up camp and prayed that the road would relent slightly allowing us to make better progress in the morning. The adventure gods seemed in a good mood as the road did let up allowing us to make the peak, our highest yet at 4960m and from here we began another knuckle busting descent back down to the balmy heights of 3000m. It was on this descent the Irish had another set back, his bike decided back brakes were for wimps and started spitting out pads. With yet another roadside fix we made it to the bottom in one piece and with time and daylight now against us we asked if we could camp on the local football field. “Of course” was the reply, “Just make sure you don’t get in the way of the game!” Jess wasn’t too happy with this however, being the day before her birthday, she had grander expectations as of where she wanted to wake up other than a local football field! She was somewhat happier in the morning when the local school children, whom happened to use the football pitch as their playground gave a rendition of happy birthday for her! The rest of the day wasn’t all that great for Jess, steep uphill all day with the only silver lining being a special birthday lunch…tomato sandwiches with butter and a great view to boot! The evening was spent having a major, full-scale party in our tent complete with cake and candle. At the rock and roll age of 26 this party was shut down at 8pm when we were all too tired and cold to continue. The next morning, all still tired from the previous night’s partying we set of from camp later than usual. Straight from the get go we were into heart attack inducing climbs with gradients to cry at. Ok so they wouldn’t have been too bad if it wasn’t for the previous 6 days worth of climbing and the fact that we were at 4300m and oxygen was hard to find. The last 8km were spent crawling, Peru was well and truly kicking our asses! Luckily for myself, Johnny was able to lend a helping hand when it came to pushing, between the two of us we managed to get Jess and her bike to the top. It’s funny, I was well and truly put in my place by this climb. I usually enjoy the climbs, I like to attack them from the off but this one was different, as soon as I attacked the hill hit back, I couldn’t ride more than 100m without doubling over my handlebars with lungs and legs screaming for oxygen. Ryan was long gone, slowly spinning his way to the top and out of sight while I stood/ hunched feeling like I was trying to breath through a straw. It took me all of the three days to remember my mountaineering times. “Pole Pole…” I was told on Kilimanjaro. “Slowly, slowly…” I was instructed in the Himalayas. Where were the trusty porters and guides when I needed them on my bike? As I neared the top I opted to stop attacking the climb. Instead I sat in my smallest gear going no faster than the gear would allow. I was taking it slow and it was working. Ok, so the gradient had definitely eased but still the lesson held true. If only I had remembered it two days ago I would have had a far less stressful time. We made the peak of the pass as a three, Johnny Jess and I, Ryan, opting to escape the freezing wind, snow and hail that was starting to fall and descended to warmer climes. We took the pictures and began another long a jarring descent only for Johnny once again to come unstuck with his brakes, literally! With the memories of our butt kicking on the hill fresh in our minds we weren’t overly keen to begin yet another pass so took a detour to the nearest town in search of food and accommodation. No such luck with food but we were offered a room above a shop as all the hospedajes turned us away. Not fully sure of where we were staying but relieved to be out of the ever worsening weather we set up shop in what looks like a make shift hospital from the 1940’s, very Anne Frank esq Enjoying our unconventional accommodation we opted to give our bodies a well-earned rest taking the next day off to watch films and catch up on our charging needs. A decision that was reinforced as a great idea when the weather took a turn for the worst, most of the day was spent questioning just how waterproof our abode was and also struggling to make the laptop heard over the din of the rain on the roof…first world problems!!! With what we hopped would be fresh legs and minds we rolled out the next day knowing we had a steep climb ahead of us. All too soon the gradient was once again at risk of inducing a heart attack and on more than one occasion bikes were pushed. We had read that it was only 4km of steep so it was with great relief when we passed the road marking for this distance, whoever said it was easier after this though must have had quads of steel as I didn’t notice any real let up in the gradient! We slogged on upwards for the rest of the day passing through an abandoned mine before emerging at a plateau of sorts, we decided this was as good a place as any and set up camp for the night over looking a lake and surrounded by mountains. A stunning camp site but a nagging headache was doing its best to spoil my evening, lots of water and hot tea drinks were the order for the evening hoping the headache didn’t develop into anything worse. The next morning the headache hadn’t shifted and I was left with the choice of descending back down the horrible steep climb from the day before in order to adapt to the altitude or carry on and hope that I would miraculously recover. I opted for the second choice and we left hoping I wouldn’t deteriorate. The route was stunning and luckily not as steep as the previous day but AMS made the most of making me useless. As the day progressed my ability to ride even the most gentle of gradients deteriorated. My breathing became more laboured and by the end of the day I was beat. We rolled into a town and were given space in the municipal building to pitch our tents, even this minor task left me doubled over panting for breath. I was well and truly beat and left questioning how I was going to make it over the next days 4900m climb! With a restful nights sleep we once again attempted to ride and once again I was left wanting. Any change in gradient and it felt like I was trying to breathe through a straw and my head was fit to explode. I admitted defeat and in the next town went in search of a collectivo (small minibus) that could get me to a lower altitude ASAP. The first leg of the Great Divide had beaten me at the last hurdle but with no way of getting over AMS other than descending I was left with no option. We waved goodbye to Johnny and Ryan and agreed to meet them at the end of the route, a mere 60km away. The bus had to follow our intended route and as we topped out on the last pass we overtook the boys taking shelter from a snowstorm. With my head once again pounding I was only too keen to stay in the warm van and make a hasty descent. So the end of the first leg of the Peru Divide and what a route. We now intend to take a few days to recover. We are heading into Lima to catch up with an old friend who I used to work with and buy some supplies for the second leg. Hopefully I have had my last dealing with altitude sickness and I can get back to just having my butt kicked by the climbs.
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AuthorDanny and Jessica living the nomadic dream. Archives
September 2017
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