Current Location: Cuzco, Peru
Distance Cycled to Date: 15,152km
Number of Days since we left home: 319
We spent the night in a hotel in Andahuaylas, the four of us re-united, but all uncertain how and if we would be able to leave the city the next day due to the strikes and roadblocks. We had 6 days until we needed to be in Cuzco, and we knew it would be at least 5 full cycling days, and we hoped to still be able to take a rest day in Abancay, since Jeff and I had biked 6 straight days over 4 different 4000 metre passes. We didn't have much choice other than to keep cycling, as a bicycle seemed to be the best bet at getting through the roadblocks. And so we packed our bags, and started out, searching for the gravel road that would lead us to Abancay, and the paved highway to Cuzco.
We slowly started the nearly 2000 metre climb out of Andahuaylas, passing numerous small villages and people working their tiny plots of land that seem to surround the road as it heads up to dizzying heights. Like the days coming into Andahuaylas, leaving town we were bombarded with warnings of the roadblocks. We couldn't pass, we were told, time and time again. But we had to just keep biking, and so we always responded with smiles and waves, and hoped that our charm could get us through any difficult situations. We thought we might have some trouble when a motorcycle passed us, and then 10 minutes later came back from the opposite direction, and stopped to tell us that we couldn't pass ahead. If even a motorcycle couldn't get through, we might have some trouble. As we kept going and came around a corner, we saw another truckload of people, with men stretched out across the road, blocking the entire thing. I didn't know what to say, or what to expect as we rode up to them - but as it turned out, we were greeted again with our usual 'gringo', and they parted to let us through. Phew.
As we kept biking, truckloads and truckloads of men and women with Peruvian flags would come down the road, heading the opposite direction as us, and everytime somebody from the truck would call out in Spanish that we couldn't pass, then somebody that they will kill us ahead, and then finally in English somebody would call out "Hello! My name is!". They never would finish the sentence with their name - just 'my name is!'. It seems the English program in rural Peru still has a few steps to go. But anyway - the combination of death threats and friendly smiles was confusing for us, and we weren't exactly sure what we should be feeling... but we just kept going.
Even though Sarah had had a few days off to try to recover from some sort of stomach bug, it hadn't quite been enough, as she wasn't feeling very well from the start of the day. It continued to get worse, and even though she tried to just keep going at a very slow pace, it was clear that she was suffering. And so, after only 30 km, we called it a day when we found an amazing campsite with views of jagged peaks and fertile valleys in nearly all directions. We were close to the top of the pass, but still had close to 120 km to do the next day to get to Abancay, 100 of which was on gravel - and included a whole lot of trip climb, and of course the possibility that we wouldn't make it through the next set of roadblocks. However, everybody was up for the challange, and so after a nice long sleep from sunset to sunrise, we got up and packed quickly, not even waiting for the frost to melt off our tents, and set off to see how close we could get to reaching our goal.
The scenery continued to impress us, and even though we were biking at high altitude, up a mountain on a poor road, it was still a great time. Sarah was feeling better, and we were making good time. We reached the top of the pass and started the descent without a single death threat. It was looking like a good day. But then, after just a little bit of bone-rattling downhill, we came up to a long line of vehicles. We passed them all, and saw a group of people sitting around on top of boulders scattered all over the road. Traffic from both sides was completely backed up, but we were able to walk our bikes through the maze, and made it through without anybody minding. In fact, they all just laughed at us. So we kept going, and just an hour or two later came to our next sizeable blockage, which was still under construction. About 15 men with shovels and pickaxes were in the process of building a wall of dirt and rocks about 5 feet high, completely blocking the road, with a rock wall on one side of the road, and a sheer cliff on the other. We slowed down, and they all stared at us. Then somebody made some kind of joke, they all started laughing, and then one or two men with shovels helped to clear a little path over the wall that we could push our bikes up. We were all smiles, and so were they - and we made it through the entire 'paro' stretch without any incident whatsoever. In fact, everybody that we met continued to be just as friendly as everybody else that we've met in Peru.
We finally got off the gravel and joined the pavement 18 km outside of Abancay, and were relieved to know this would be the last gravel we would ride on in Peru. Finally. But - this didn't mean that the day would end easily, because we still had 18 km of uphill, and the sun was nearly setting already. But we really wanted to make it to Abancay that day, and so we pushed, and pushed. Laura and Sarah were both dead tired (and even Jeff and I were ready for the day to end), but we just kept going, up the paved highway, as the sun dipped lower and lower, and then disappeared. On we went in the dark, for the first time ever on this trip. We reached the outskirts of the city, but when you're biking in the dark after a 120 km day, it seems to take forever to reach the centre of a city we realized. We finally made it, and checked into the first hotel that we looked at. It was time for pizza, and then a very long, very solid sleep.
We took a rest day the next day in Abancay, and didn't leave our hotel room until we went out for supper. Then we came back and went to bed again. It was a pretty solid rest day. And then, we had 3 days left to get to Cuzco. We had just two more 4000 metre passes, but on pavement - easy peasy, of course. We cycled every day just as we planned, first to Curahuasi, then Limatambo. It was a strange feeling, the closer and closer we got to Cuzco. It was a city we had dreamed of visiting long before we left Canada - the Inca capital, the gateway to Machu Picchu, and a milestone at over 15,000 km. And now to add to it, our family was coming to meet us there - but, Laura and Sarah would be going back home. It was a mixture of emotion, both excitement and sadness, but we did our best to enjoy every minute of the ride until we arrived. It was still beautiful scenery, and the four of us continued to grow closer and closer. June 25th, we rode into Cuzco, right on schedule. It was a triumphant entry. It felt pretty darn good.
We took the next day to relax and celebrate. Jeff and I had ridden over 15,000 km from Canada, and Laura and Sarah had ridden over 1000 km of the toughest section. It was more than impressive - from leaving Huaraz on homemade equipment and never ridden any sort of distance on a bicycle, they were stellar, right from the start. They biked 7 different 4000 metre passes on terrible gravel, found 13 different chicken feet in their soups, and did it all without any complaints. We loved every minute of biking with them, and every mintue we weren't biking as well. We didn't really anticipate how much biking with them would change our trip - but we know now how difficult it will be to go back to biking without them. We consider ourselves lucky to have had them along for this trip.
When our family arrived, our vacation began. We left our bikes with the manager of the cheap hotel we had been staying in, and moved into a very nice hotel. We had 3 weeks of spending time with our family, and seeing a few sights we had missed while biking. We took buses, and felt pretty car-sick every time. (We're just not used to travelling that fast anymore. It's crazy how fast vehicles move!). We got to see the Nazca Lines, the Colca Canyon, go sand-boarding on giant dunes in Huacachina, and eat a lot of very, very good meals. It was great to see our parents and sister again after so long, and it was great to have our Aunt Louise along to show off Peru. Yesterday they all left, back to Canada, and we find ourselves all alone again, after so long. It's a strange feeling right now, but we're anxious to get back on our bicycles and start getting some more miles under us. Spending all our time with Laura and Sarah, and now our family, has given us new motivation to keep going hard and reach the end of Argentina.
So tomorrow we'll get back on the bikes, and make our way to Lake Titicaca, and the Bolivian border. Starting tomorrow we've officially overstayed our visa for Peru, so hopefully we can exit the country without any problems. One more week, and we should be in Bolivia. We're excited.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Peruvian Political Problems Part I: Ayacucho to Andahuaylas
Current Location: Cuzco, Peru
Distance Cycled to Date: 15,152km
Number of Days in Peru to Date: 88
Number of Days Allowed on our Peruvian Tourist Visa: 90
Number of Pictures Taken in Peru to Date: 3807
It's been a month since we last posted a blog entry. Some people might attribute this to laziness on our part, and those people are pretty much dead-on. A whole lot has happened in the last month, though those with astute Peruvian geography will notice that we haven't actually made it too far since our last entry from Ayacucho. The reason for this is that we've spent the last 3 weeks spending time with our parents, younger sister, and our aunt who came from Canada to see us. So the laziness really could be explained by our desire to spend as much quality time with our family as we could. Or, you could just call us lazy, I suppose.
Since we actually do have some good stories from biking that we should have shared weeks and weeks ago, we're going to take you back in time to leaving Ayacucho, and pretend that this is a current entry. So - it's now the middle of June, Sarah and Laura are staying to rest in Ayacucho for 2 days before taking a bus to Andahuaylas to meet us - our last planned seperation, to give them a chance to recover from some stomach bugs and sore muscles. Meanwhile, Jeff and I hit the road, ready to tackle a few more 4000 metre passes, which being divided by 2000 metre river valleys would be one of the toughest sections yet.
Now we have to back the narrative up just a little bit again, and cover a little bit of background. Being touring cyclists we find ourselves fairly isolated from any sort of media, or world news. We are completely out of the loop. The best example of this is probably that we only found out a couple of weeks ago who won the Stanley Cup. That's right - two Canadian guys in their early 20s, and we didn't even know who made the playoffs in the NHL this year. We don't know anything going on in the world. We did find out, however, that there have been a few political problems in Peru going on while we've been cycling. It's fairly complex, and despite having been in Peru for 3 months now, we still don't really understand all of the issues at hand. But while we were in the Huancayo area, we heard that there were massive political protests happening in the Amazon, and in one confrontation 22 police officers were killed, and at least that many protestors as well. It was a pretty big deal here in Peru, and the kind of situation where nobody won. It seemed however to be confined to the jungle areas, far from us, and so we didn't worry about our own personal safety at all.
And so, having forgotten about any current political problems in Peru (and still no knowledge of Pittsburgh's victory back home) we set out climbing and climbing on the dusty, rough gravel road out of Ayacucho. We climbed and climbed, camped, and the next day climbed some more before descending into the village of Ocros which had a basic hostal to stay the night in. We took a look at the place, which consisted of a single room with 4 rickety beds. We'd gotten pretty used to this sort of rustic accomodation, and didn't think too much of the fact that there was no bathroom attached to the room. Often we've had to go downstairs or even to anouthouse to do our business, and thought that would be no different. But after asking for the bathroom and following the senora's directions, we found ourselves going down a trail towards the river. There was no buildling. We searched. We've come across the same thing at a few restaurants, where the bathroom was 'just across the highway, down into the ditch'. But this was the first time in a hotel where we were forced to fend for ourselves, right in the town.
It's hard to even keep straight the days, as every day was either a 2000 metre climb, or a 2000 metre descent, both of which were exhausting and difficult on the rough roads. But on the day before we were to reach Andahuaylas, a small SUV coming towards us stopped to talk to us. It was an Australian man who stopped to see how up to date we were on the current situation in the city we were heading to. Of course, our answer was not at all. It turned out that he had been stuck in the city for the past 5 days, which was under a 'paro', or stoppage. All highways in and out of the city had been blocked off, and all businesses in the city were to be on strike. It was in support of what had happened in the Amazon, as well as a few of their own issues. The Austalian had managed to escape he told us, in the middle of the night, despite having rocks and sticks thrown at his vehicle.
And so, it seemed our plan to meet Laura and Sarah in Andahuaylas might have a wrinkle in it. This was the first we had heard of the 'paro', but it was far from the last. Soon after, it seemed half of the people who we would pass would call out 'no, you can't pass! Everything is closed.', which worried us a little. The other half would smile and wave and call out 'gringo!', which comforted us again. Arriving in Uripa, the last town we were supposedly able to reach before the roadblocks would begin, we tried to find an internet cafe to email the girls, and hopefully hear something from them. After finding one internet cafe with no internet due to the situation in Andahuaylas, we finally found one with still-open broadband. We found a few emails from Laura and Sarah, first telling us the bus wasn't running, then that they could get as far as Uripa, and then finally that they found a company that was sending in a nightbus that would be able to make it all the way. And so, we went to bed wondering where it would be that we actually would find each other again. We looked at a map to find any alternate routes that would miss Andahuaylas, but every road through the area entered the city. The only possibility would be for them to take a bus all the way down to the coast, then change buses and go all the way back inland to Abancay, which would be a couple days of riding the bus. It seems whoever picked Andahuaylas as the city to shut down did some thinking beforehand. Well done.
Leaving Uripa, we were warned many times that the road was closed. And every time we would call out, 'si! gracis!' with a smile on our faces. We had just one more 4000 metre pass to summit before the downhill into our now-forbidden city. The frequency of the warnings picked up, as the traffic died down. In fact, traffic ceased to exist. We took it as a sign that maybe all these people were in fact right about the roadblocks, but we just kept biking, with no other real option. We finally reached the top of the pass after enjoying the slow biking and beautiful scenery without ever seeing a single vehicle. We ate a couple dry buns, (now a staple), and started the downhill, a little anxious and a bit nervous about what would come next. It wouldn't be very long at all before we'd fly around a corner and come across a rock field- small boulders and big rocks, scattered all over the road. We dodged them, kept going, and soon enough reached another one. And then a little bit further down was a tree, cut down across the road. Then more rocks, and more trees. After all our practice dodging sheep and cows moving down the road, we were very adept at weaving around the motionless rocks. A couple trees forced us to get off and carry our bikes (but after carrying our loaded bikes up countless hotel staircases, we've become pretty accustomed to this as well). We were a little nervous about the villagers around, that they might not like us foreigners ignoring their roadblocks - but nobody seemed to really mind - everybody would just tell us that the road is closed, and warn us that further ahead we couldn't pass. But it was always further ahead that the trouble would be, so we just kept pushing on. With every scattering of boulders and every tree across the road, we became less and less sure that we'd be greeted by Laura and Sarah when we reached the city.
Just a few kilometres before the city the warnings started to really increase, with one lady yelling intently for us to stop, and when I looked back at her, she slid her finger across her neck, warning us that we might be killed further ahead. And as we kept pedaling, with slightly more than a touch of concern, we came around a corner and saw a semi-truck with the back loaded up with young men, and Peruvian flags flying. We slowed down to be biking side by side, expecting at any minute a gun to be pulled on us - but instead, it was the typical 'gringo!' with grins on their faces. We finally exhaled after passing the group, and we entered the city limits of Andahuaylas just as the sun set. There was glass smashed all over the roads and rocks still everywhere, but the city seemed to be moving at a normal pace, and not a single person questioned us once we got there. We found an open internet cafe and checked to find out the status of the girls, expecting the worst. And there was an email from them - they had checked into a hotel, in Andahuaylas, just around the corner from us.
We're still not exactly sure how their bus reached the city except that it found a different, longer but more open route- but however they arrived, we were very, very relieved to see them. Now the problem just became leaving the next day, as we were (again) told that we couldn't get through the highway on the other side of the city. The word 'kill' was definitely used a few times, and we started to question if we could make it to Cuzco by our deadline, imposed by Laura and Sarah's flight home, and the arrival of our family.
Stay tuned to find out what happens next to the cycling quartet. Will we make it out of the city? Will we reach Cuzco in time for the girls to see Machu Picchu, and Jeff and I to meet our parents? Part II is coming soon...
Distance Cycled to Date: 15,152km
Number of Days in Peru to Date: 88
Number of Days Allowed on our Peruvian Tourist Visa: 90
Number of Pictures Taken in Peru to Date: 3807
It's been a month since we last posted a blog entry. Some people might attribute this to laziness on our part, and those people are pretty much dead-on. A whole lot has happened in the last month, though those with astute Peruvian geography will notice that we haven't actually made it too far since our last entry from Ayacucho. The reason for this is that we've spent the last 3 weeks spending time with our parents, younger sister, and our aunt who came from Canada to see us. So the laziness really could be explained by our desire to spend as much quality time with our family as we could. Or, you could just call us lazy, I suppose.
Since we actually do have some good stories from biking that we should have shared weeks and weeks ago, we're going to take you back in time to leaving Ayacucho, and pretend that this is a current entry. So - it's now the middle of June, Sarah and Laura are staying to rest in Ayacucho for 2 days before taking a bus to Andahuaylas to meet us - our last planned seperation, to give them a chance to recover from some stomach bugs and sore muscles. Meanwhile, Jeff and I hit the road, ready to tackle a few more 4000 metre passes, which being divided by 2000 metre river valleys would be one of the toughest sections yet.
Now we have to back the narrative up just a little bit again, and cover a little bit of background. Being touring cyclists we find ourselves fairly isolated from any sort of media, or world news. We are completely out of the loop. The best example of this is probably that we only found out a couple of weeks ago who won the Stanley Cup. That's right - two Canadian guys in their early 20s, and we didn't even know who made the playoffs in the NHL this year. We don't know anything going on in the world. We did find out, however, that there have been a few political problems in Peru going on while we've been cycling. It's fairly complex, and despite having been in Peru for 3 months now, we still don't really understand all of the issues at hand. But while we were in the Huancayo area, we heard that there were massive political protests happening in the Amazon, and in one confrontation 22 police officers were killed, and at least that many protestors as well. It was a pretty big deal here in Peru, and the kind of situation where nobody won. It seemed however to be confined to the jungle areas, far from us, and so we didn't worry about our own personal safety at all.
And so, having forgotten about any current political problems in Peru (and still no knowledge of Pittsburgh's victory back home) we set out climbing and climbing on the dusty, rough gravel road out of Ayacucho. We climbed and climbed, camped, and the next day climbed some more before descending into the village of Ocros which had a basic hostal to stay the night in. We took a look at the place, which consisted of a single room with 4 rickety beds. We'd gotten pretty used to this sort of rustic accomodation, and didn't think too much of the fact that there was no bathroom attached to the room. Often we've had to go downstairs or even to anouthouse to do our business, and thought that would be no different. But after asking for the bathroom and following the senora's directions, we found ourselves going down a trail towards the river. There was no buildling. We searched. We've come across the same thing at a few restaurants, where the bathroom was 'just across the highway, down into the ditch'. But this was the first time in a hotel where we were forced to fend for ourselves, right in the town.
It's hard to even keep straight the days, as every day was either a 2000 metre climb, or a 2000 metre descent, both of which were exhausting and difficult on the rough roads. But on the day before we were to reach Andahuaylas, a small SUV coming towards us stopped to talk to us. It was an Australian man who stopped to see how up to date we were on the current situation in the city we were heading to. Of course, our answer was not at all. It turned out that he had been stuck in the city for the past 5 days, which was under a 'paro', or stoppage. All highways in and out of the city had been blocked off, and all businesses in the city were to be on strike. It was in support of what had happened in the Amazon, as well as a few of their own issues. The Austalian had managed to escape he told us, in the middle of the night, despite having rocks and sticks thrown at his vehicle.
And so, it seemed our plan to meet Laura and Sarah in Andahuaylas might have a wrinkle in it. This was the first we had heard of the 'paro', but it was far from the last. Soon after, it seemed half of the people who we would pass would call out 'no, you can't pass! Everything is closed.', which worried us a little. The other half would smile and wave and call out 'gringo!', which comforted us again. Arriving in Uripa, the last town we were supposedly able to reach before the roadblocks would begin, we tried to find an internet cafe to email the girls, and hopefully hear something from them. After finding one internet cafe with no internet due to the situation in Andahuaylas, we finally found one with still-open broadband. We found a few emails from Laura and Sarah, first telling us the bus wasn't running, then that they could get as far as Uripa, and then finally that they found a company that was sending in a nightbus that would be able to make it all the way. And so, we went to bed wondering where it would be that we actually would find each other again. We looked at a map to find any alternate routes that would miss Andahuaylas, but every road through the area entered the city. The only possibility would be for them to take a bus all the way down to the coast, then change buses and go all the way back inland to Abancay, which would be a couple days of riding the bus. It seems whoever picked Andahuaylas as the city to shut down did some thinking beforehand. Well done.
Leaving Uripa, we were warned many times that the road was closed. And every time we would call out, 'si! gracis!' with a smile on our faces. We had just one more 4000 metre pass to summit before the downhill into our now-forbidden city. The frequency of the warnings picked up, as the traffic died down. In fact, traffic ceased to exist. We took it as a sign that maybe all these people were in fact right about the roadblocks, but we just kept biking, with no other real option. We finally reached the top of the pass after enjoying the slow biking and beautiful scenery without ever seeing a single vehicle. We ate a couple dry buns, (now a staple), and started the downhill, a little anxious and a bit nervous about what would come next. It wouldn't be very long at all before we'd fly around a corner and come across a rock field- small boulders and big rocks, scattered all over the road. We dodged them, kept going, and soon enough reached another one. And then a little bit further down was a tree, cut down across the road. Then more rocks, and more trees. After all our practice dodging sheep and cows moving down the road, we were very adept at weaving around the motionless rocks. A couple trees forced us to get off and carry our bikes (but after carrying our loaded bikes up countless hotel staircases, we've become pretty accustomed to this as well). We were a little nervous about the villagers around, that they might not like us foreigners ignoring their roadblocks - but nobody seemed to really mind - everybody would just tell us that the road is closed, and warn us that further ahead we couldn't pass. But it was always further ahead that the trouble would be, so we just kept pushing on. With every scattering of boulders and every tree across the road, we became less and less sure that we'd be greeted by Laura and Sarah when we reached the city.
Just a few kilometres before the city the warnings started to really increase, with one lady yelling intently for us to stop, and when I looked back at her, she slid her finger across her neck, warning us that we might be killed further ahead. And as we kept pedaling, with slightly more than a touch of concern, we came around a corner and saw a semi-truck with the back loaded up with young men, and Peruvian flags flying. We slowed down to be biking side by side, expecting at any minute a gun to be pulled on us - but instead, it was the typical 'gringo!' with grins on their faces. We finally exhaled after passing the group, and we entered the city limits of Andahuaylas just as the sun set. There was glass smashed all over the roads and rocks still everywhere, but the city seemed to be moving at a normal pace, and not a single person questioned us once we got there. We found an open internet cafe and checked to find out the status of the girls, expecting the worst. And there was an email from them - they had checked into a hotel, in Andahuaylas, just around the corner from us.
We're still not exactly sure how their bus reached the city except that it found a different, longer but more open route- but however they arrived, we were very, very relieved to see them. Now the problem just became leaving the next day, as we were (again) told that we couldn't get through the highway on the other side of the city. The word 'kill' was definitely used a few times, and we started to question if we could make it to Cuzco by our deadline, imposed by Laura and Sarah's flight home, and the arrival of our family.
Stay tuned to find out what happens next to the cycling quartet. Will we make it out of the city? Will we reach Cuzco in time for the girls to see Machu Picchu, and Jeff and I to meet our parents? Part II is coming soon...
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Ups and Downs from Huanuco to Ayacucho
Current Location: Ayacucho, Peru
Distance Cycled to Date: 14,541 km
Flat tires to Date: 53 (Keenan - 29, Jeff - 23, Laura - 1, Sarah - 0)
We left Huanuco feeling pretty good. We had a pizza night, restocked our food supplies, and were excited about the prospect of getting back on to pavement for the next few hundred kilometres. We got on the road early, and after dodging the Peruvian moto-taxis that seem to take over every city, we made good time early in the day. However, a combination of flat tires and the start of a problem with Sarah's knee slowed us down, and we covered less than 40 km before finding a campsite hidden in the ditch. The flat tire wasn't too serious, except that it forced us to use our very last 700c tube, which caused a little bit of stress. Sarah's knee on the other hand we knew could be potentially problematic, and we all hoped that the next day things would just get better. But, anybody who knows anything about knee problems knows that they don't just disappear, and so the next day we called it a early day again, after spending all morning working on the long, slow climb from Huanuco at 1900 metres, that would finally end at Cerro de Pasco, at over 4300 m.
We had spotted the 'Hospedaje Trucha' (Trout Hotel) just a kilometre or so back of where we were taking a break, but rather than all of us backtracking downhill (which breaks two of our cardinal rules of this trip), I biked down by myself to check it out. If I hadn't returned in 20 minutes, it meant that I deemed it sufficient (read: cheap) enough, so the rest would come down. I pulled in and had a quick look at the room, and for 5 soles a piece (less than $2 Canadian) we could have a hotel room, which satisfied all my requirements. So, in the remaining 19 minutes, I was invited to join in a volleyball game on a makeshift court beside the highway. I got a good warmup in before Jeff, Laura, and Sarah showed up to join in as well, and we played a little Canada vs. Peru 3 vs. 3 volleyball. We did pretty well, but in the end (as a result of some questionable scorekeeping) the Peruvians came out on top. The hotel wasn't anything too special, unless you consider green algae oozing out of the bathroom taps and showerhead as being special - but we did enjoy some fresh caught trout for supper each night, and some good quality rest time as well.
Getting back on the road we continued to slowly gain altitude, but after looking at the dates, our current pace, and the condition of Sarah's knee, we decided it would make the most sense for them to skip a bit of the less scenic section we were on, take a bus to Huancayo, and get a bit of rest before Jeff and I caught back up on our bikes and we could continue on our way to Ayacucho. We were getting close to Cerro de Pasco, but still had nearly 700 metres to climb and 15 kilometres to go with an hour of sunlight left, when as we were chatting with some friendly locals in a pickup truck, they offered us a ride to Cerro. Now, Jeff and I have had a pretty good streak of never taking a ride on this trip, and we knew that we wanted to continue, but since Sarah and Laura were planning on taking a bus to Huancayo anyway, it made sense for them to take the generous offer. And so, we said our goodbyes and good-lucks at 5 o'clock on the side of the highway, and they loaded their bikes in the truck. Jeff and I did a quick calculation that if we biked hard for the next hour without stopping, we just might be able to make the city - and so we did. As the sun dipped below the horizon the temperature dipped below zero, but we just kept pedalling, finally making it to a hotel on the plaza in the freezing cold darkness.
We decided we might as well push as hard as we could the next morning, and try to make it to Huancayo, over 260 km away, in two days. And so - we did. It started out poorly though, with us biking almost 15 km, back and forth over the 'cerro' (hill), searching for the way out of the confusing city. People would point us one direction and so we'd go, and then on the other side of the hill, they'd point us back the other way, on the same road we just came on. That wasn't fun at all. However, an hour and a half later when we finally got back to the highway, we did have fun being on nice pavement again, with a bit of downhill, and having set an ambitious goal. The scenery wasn't nearly as spectacular as we had seen before, but the pampas and rolling plains were a nice change. We spotted llamas grazing in the wild, vicunas hopping along, and a giant maca root statue in a town plaza. All in all, not too bad.
We ended up getting to Huancayo on the same day as the girls, just a couple of hours later, which we all thought was kind of funny. And so, we we spent our time in Huancayo doing what we do on all great rest days - sitting around and doing as little as possible, intersperced with a lot of eating. The days off also helped Sarah's knee considerably, so after taking two days off the only downside we could think of was that the laundromat we visited lost Jeff's jersey, leaving him with only one shirt to wear while biking for the next few weeks. Jeff would like to point out that this is a very big deal - not showering for a week or two isn't too bad, but when you have to wear the same shirt during that same stretch, it becomes a much bigger deal. Also, not too great for the guy sharing a tent with him.
Our first day out of Huancayo we went up a bit, and then down a lot, with the only real noteworthy item being that we made it to Izcuchaca, which was where we were aiming to get to that day. (Lately that has been a bit of a rarity for us). The next day we almost did the same, but Laura got her first flat tire of the trip, just a few kilometres before our goal. We thought it would be an easy fix (after all, by this point Jeff and I are very, very experienced at fixing flat tires), but we learned that her rims are frustratingly big, and the valve stem just wouldn't stick out enough for our pump to work. So, found a campsite a few hundred metres down the road and made a plan for the next day. Jeff and Sarah set out on their bikes like usual, while Laura and I started walking for the nearest village. It turned out to be 20 km away. It was a long walk, but a nice change of pace for both of us, and a good chance to enjoy the scenery without needing to worry about flying off the edge of a cliff. We reached Anco, and within minutes had somebody fill up the tire with their pump. (Pretty much everybody in Peru is very very nice. If you've heard otherwise, you've heard wrong.) It was already pretty late in the day, so we called it a night, and planned to reach Ayacucho in 2 days.
Again, with the lack of mechanical problems, we followed through and made it to Ayacucho after winding through some varied scenery. One minute we would be in a fertile valley, and after crossing a small pass we would be riding through red rock canyon walls with cacti surrounding us. Up and down we would go, finally reaching Ayacucho after one more long climb into the city.
We had our pizza night, restocked our food supplies, and now we're excited about getting back onto some gravel. It's been a good rest day, and we'll see what happens from here.
Distance Cycled to Date: 14,541 km
Flat tires to Date: 53 (Keenan - 29, Jeff - 23, Laura - 1, Sarah - 0)
We left Huanuco feeling pretty good. We had a pizza night, restocked our food supplies, and were excited about the prospect of getting back on to pavement for the next few hundred kilometres. We got on the road early, and after dodging the Peruvian moto-taxis that seem to take over every city, we made good time early in the day. However, a combination of flat tires and the start of a problem with Sarah's knee slowed us down, and we covered less than 40 km before finding a campsite hidden in the ditch. The flat tire wasn't too serious, except that it forced us to use our very last 700c tube, which caused a little bit of stress. Sarah's knee on the other hand we knew could be potentially problematic, and we all hoped that the next day things would just get better. But, anybody who knows anything about knee problems knows that they don't just disappear, and so the next day we called it a early day again, after spending all morning working on the long, slow climb from Huanuco at 1900 metres, that would finally end at Cerro de Pasco, at over 4300 m.
We had spotted the 'Hospedaje Trucha' (Trout Hotel) just a kilometre or so back of where we were taking a break, but rather than all of us backtracking downhill (which breaks two of our cardinal rules of this trip), I biked down by myself to check it out. If I hadn't returned in 20 minutes, it meant that I deemed it sufficient (read: cheap) enough, so the rest would come down. I pulled in and had a quick look at the room, and for 5 soles a piece (less than $2 Canadian) we could have a hotel room, which satisfied all my requirements. So, in the remaining 19 minutes, I was invited to join in a volleyball game on a makeshift court beside the highway. I got a good warmup in before Jeff, Laura, and Sarah showed up to join in as well, and we played a little Canada vs. Peru 3 vs. 3 volleyball. We did pretty well, but in the end (as a result of some questionable scorekeeping) the Peruvians came out on top. The hotel wasn't anything too special, unless you consider green algae oozing out of the bathroom taps and showerhead as being special - but we did enjoy some fresh caught trout for supper each night, and some good quality rest time as well.
Getting back on the road we continued to slowly gain altitude, but after looking at the dates, our current pace, and the condition of Sarah's knee, we decided it would make the most sense for them to skip a bit of the less scenic section we were on, take a bus to Huancayo, and get a bit of rest before Jeff and I caught back up on our bikes and we could continue on our way to Ayacucho. We were getting close to Cerro de Pasco, but still had nearly 700 metres to climb and 15 kilometres to go with an hour of sunlight left, when as we were chatting with some friendly locals in a pickup truck, they offered us a ride to Cerro. Now, Jeff and I have had a pretty good streak of never taking a ride on this trip, and we knew that we wanted to continue, but since Sarah and Laura were planning on taking a bus to Huancayo anyway, it made sense for them to take the generous offer. And so, we said our goodbyes and good-lucks at 5 o'clock on the side of the highway, and they loaded their bikes in the truck. Jeff and I did a quick calculation that if we biked hard for the next hour without stopping, we just might be able to make the city - and so we did. As the sun dipped below the horizon the temperature dipped below zero, but we just kept pedalling, finally making it to a hotel on the plaza in the freezing cold darkness.
We decided we might as well push as hard as we could the next morning, and try to make it to Huancayo, over 260 km away, in two days. And so - we did. It started out poorly though, with us biking almost 15 km, back and forth over the 'cerro' (hill), searching for the way out of the confusing city. People would point us one direction and so we'd go, and then on the other side of the hill, they'd point us back the other way, on the same road we just came on. That wasn't fun at all. However, an hour and a half later when we finally got back to the highway, we did have fun being on nice pavement again, with a bit of downhill, and having set an ambitious goal. The scenery wasn't nearly as spectacular as we had seen before, but the pampas and rolling plains were a nice change. We spotted llamas grazing in the wild, vicunas hopping along, and a giant maca root statue in a town plaza. All in all, not too bad.
We ended up getting to Huancayo on the same day as the girls, just a couple of hours later, which we all thought was kind of funny. And so, we we spent our time in Huancayo doing what we do on all great rest days - sitting around and doing as little as possible, intersperced with a lot of eating. The days off also helped Sarah's knee considerably, so after taking two days off the only downside we could think of was that the laundromat we visited lost Jeff's jersey, leaving him with only one shirt to wear while biking for the next few weeks. Jeff would like to point out that this is a very big deal - not showering for a week or two isn't too bad, but when you have to wear the same shirt during that same stretch, it becomes a much bigger deal. Also, not too great for the guy sharing a tent with him.
Our first day out of Huancayo we went up a bit, and then down a lot, with the only real noteworthy item being that we made it to Izcuchaca, which was where we were aiming to get to that day. (Lately that has been a bit of a rarity for us). The next day we almost did the same, but Laura got her first flat tire of the trip, just a few kilometres before our goal. We thought it would be an easy fix (after all, by this point Jeff and I are very, very experienced at fixing flat tires), but we learned that her rims are frustratingly big, and the valve stem just wouldn't stick out enough for our pump to work. So, found a campsite a few hundred metres down the road and made a plan for the next day. Jeff and Sarah set out on their bikes like usual, while Laura and I started walking for the nearest village. It turned out to be 20 km away. It was a long walk, but a nice change of pace for both of us, and a good chance to enjoy the scenery without needing to worry about flying off the edge of a cliff. We reached Anco, and within minutes had somebody fill up the tire with their pump. (Pretty much everybody in Peru is very very nice. If you've heard otherwise, you've heard wrong.) It was already pretty late in the day, so we called it a night, and planned to reach Ayacucho in 2 days.
Again, with the lack of mechanical problems, we followed through and made it to Ayacucho after winding through some varied scenery. One minute we would be in a fertile valley, and after crossing a small pass we would be riding through red rock canyon walls with cacti surrounding us. Up and down we would go, finally reaching Ayacucho after one more long climb into the city.
We had our pizza night, restocked our food supplies, and now we're excited about getting back onto some gravel. It's been a good rest day, and we'll see what happens from here.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Central Peru - Mountain Passes, Freezing Nights, and All Around Amazing Sights
Current Location: Huanuco, Peru
...
We've started to share our highlights and lowlights at the end of every day, and this week has been full of highlights. Here's a few:
-Seeing the rare Puya Raimondi plants in bloom, the largest
bromelid flower in the world, that grows only at certain elevations in the Andes around 4000 metres, takes 100 years to mature, and blooms only every 6 to 7 years. Everytime we'd see one, we would all yell "Puya!" as loud as we could, letting our voices echo across the valley. You would think after yelling "Puya!" nearly a hundred times it would get old - but it just never does.
-As we were riding uphill, at nearly 4000 metres, an old man walking along the road asked where we were heading. We told him, and he explaimed 'I'll come with you!", and started jogging along beside. If you've ever tried running at 4000 metres, you'll know how hard this is. And then throw in going up a rocky gravel road, at a 5% grade. In dress shoes. Wearing a backpack. And being at least 60 years old. But he just kept on jogging, keeping up with me without seeming to tire at all. In fact, he just kept talking, carrying on a conversation, while I struggled with the effort of cycling, speaking, and breathing. For nearly two kilometres he kept up, until finally I had to stop for a break.
-One day as we were biking by some sheep, we noticed that Laura had started to baah back at them as they baahed at us. This sounds kind of strange, but we're all
sort of strange people. We have a lot of fun. Anyway - it seemed like fun, so one day as I stopped to wait for the others to catch up I noticed a small lamb in amongst a group of sheep baah-ing, so I started to call back to it. I wasn't quite as good at the imitation as Laura, but it took notice. And then as we carried on the conversation, it left the other sheep and started to come towards me. By then everybody else had caught up, but that little lamb just kept coming, running up the steep ditch to get to us. I guess he realized then that whatever I was saying was nonsense, because he turned around to go back. But we shared a moment. And it was special.
-The set lunch menus at local restaurants just keep getting cheaper and cheaper. It's down to 3 soles now, which isn't much more than one Canadian dollar. And as the prices drop, the more entertaining our lunchtime discussions have become.
-We saw our first llamas grazing in the wild. We took a whole lot of pictures. Llamas are sweet. Or possibly they were alpacas - we're still not really sure the difference. Alpacas are sweet too. Puya!
...
The scenery over the past week has been some of the best of the entire trip. We've found ourselves with 360 degree panoramas of snow capped peaks, deep valleys, and everything in between. We've had some amazing campsites, that make almost every campspot we've had pale in comparison. One night we camped just over a pass at 4700 m, and found out just how much elevation affects the temperatue. Normally Jeff and I fit with not much room to spare in our 2 and a half man tent, but as the temperature dropped we decided to all squeeze into it. We were all wearing nearly every piece of clothing we had, tucked in our sub-zero sleeping bags - and we survived it, though comfortably isn´t the word you would use to describe it.
Coming into Huanuco, we dropped from 4000 m down to 1900 m. Statistically that sounds pretty sweet, but the terrible gravel took away a bit of the fun. Now tomorrow we'll start our ascent back up to 4300 m again. PUYA!
Distance Cycled to Date: 13,884 km
4000+ Meter Passes Crossed to Date: 3
Most eggs eaten by Keenan and Jeff in one day: 15 (Is this healthy? Definitely delicious!)
Number of chicken feet found in soup in the past week: 8 (Jeff - 4, Sarah - 2, Laura - 2, Keenan - 0)
Leaving Huaraz, we weren't exactly sure what to expect. We hadn't biked for nearly 2 weeks, and we had two Canadian girls with us who had never ridden touring bicycles in their lives. We had homemade racks and denim 
panniers, some cheap camping equipment, and we were heading on a poor dirt road over a double pass that would reach over 4,800 m, a height we had never even been close to on our bicycles. We knew it would be quite the introduction to cycle touring, and we were right. Mother nature even had a little fun with the inauguration, throwing down rain, hail, and snow - all on the first 3 days out of Huaraz. It was one of the hardest weeks of cycling that Jeff and I have had yet, and one of the most remote. We had a three day stretch where we saw 5 vehicles in total. All of these things added up to one of the best weeks that we've ever had!
panniers, some cheap camping equipment, and we were heading on a poor dirt road over a double pass that would reach over 4,800 m, a height we had never even been close to on our bicycles. We knew it would be quite the introduction to cycle touring, and we were right. Mother nature even had a little fun with the inauguration, throwing down rain, hail, and snow - all on the first 3 days out of Huaraz. It was one of the hardest weeks of cycling that Jeff and I have had yet, and one of the most remote. We had a three day stretch where we saw 5 vehicles in total. All of these things added up to one of the best weeks that we've ever had!We told Laura and Sarah that we'd give them grades after the first week, and we have to say, they both likely deserve something in the A to A+ range. Throughout the ridiculously rough dirt road, the endless climbing, the sub-zero night time temperatures and the breathless elevation, we never heard a single complaint. They are troopers. It was good to get to introduce others to our lifestyle, and have that enthusiasm that we had when we left. Every day we bike through tiny settlements, chased by kids yelling "gringo! gringo!" with ear to ear grins on their faces, and it's been great to be reminded just how amazing our everyday experiences are.
...
We've started to share our highlights and lowlights at the end of every day, and this week has been full of highlights. Here's a few:
-Seeing the rare Puya Raimondi plants in bloom, the largest
bromelid flower in the world, that grows only at certain elevations in the Andes around 4000 metres, takes 100 years to mature, and blooms only every 6 to 7 years. Everytime we'd see one, we would all yell "Puya!" as loud as we could, letting our voices echo across the valley. You would think after yelling "Puya!" nearly a hundred times it would get old - but it just never does.-As we were riding uphill, at nearly 4000 metres, an old man walking along the road asked where we were heading. We told him, and he explaimed 'I'll come with you!", and started jogging along beside. If you've ever tried running at 4000 metres, you'll know how hard this is. And then throw in going up a rocky gravel road, at a 5% grade. In dress shoes. Wearing a backpack. And being at least 60 years old. But he just kept on jogging, keeping up with me without seeming to tire at all. In fact, he just kept talking, carrying on a conversation, while I struggled with the effort of cycling, speaking, and breathing. For nearly two kilometres he kept up, until finally I had to stop for a break.
-One day as we were biking by some sheep, we noticed that Laura had started to baah back at them as they baahed at us. This sounds kind of strange, but we're all
sort of strange people. We have a lot of fun. Anyway - it seemed like fun, so one day as I stopped to wait for the others to catch up I noticed a small lamb in amongst a group of sheep baah-ing, so I started to call back to it. I wasn't quite as good at the imitation as Laura, but it took notice. And then as we carried on the conversation, it left the other sheep and started to come towards me. By then everybody else had caught up, but that little lamb just kept coming, running up the steep ditch to get to us. I guess he realized then that whatever I was saying was nonsense, because he turned around to go back. But we shared a moment. And it was special. -The set lunch menus at local restaurants just keep getting cheaper and cheaper. It's down to 3 soles now, which isn't much more than one Canadian dollar. And as the prices drop, the more entertaining our lunchtime discussions have become.
"What's that sticking out of your soup?"
"I think it's maybe a lung?"
"I think it's maybe a lung?"
"I've got a chicken foot in mine"
"Wait - nope, not a lung, that's a heart, definitely. Look at the artery sticking out."
"There is definitely an artery sticking out of this pork thing too."
"Don't worry about that cup - that stuff is only on the outside."
"Hmm... tastes like some sort of cleaning product"
"Hmm... tastes like some sort of cleaning product"
"Mind if I finish that pig skin on your plate?"
-We saw our first llamas grazing in the wild. We took a whole lot of pictures. Llamas are sweet. Or possibly they were alpacas - we're still not really sure the difference. Alpacas are sweet too. Puya!
...
The scenery over the past week has been some of the best of the entire trip. We've found ourselves with 360 degree panoramas of snow capped peaks, deep valleys, and everything in between. We've had some amazing campsites, that make almost every campspot we've had pale in comparison. One night we camped just over a pass at 4700 m, and found out just how much elevation affects the temperatue. Normally Jeff and I fit with not much room to spare in our 2 and a half man tent, but as the temperature dropped we decided to all squeeze into it. We were all wearing nearly every piece of clothing we had, tucked in our sub-zero sleeping bags - and we survived it, though comfortably isn´t the word you would use to describe it.
Coming into Huanuco, we dropped from 4000 m down to 1900 m. Statistically that sounds pretty sweet, but the terrible gravel took away a bit of the fun. Now tomorrow we'll start our ascent back up to 4300 m again. PUYA!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Bips and Bops
Current Location: Huaraz, Peru
Distance Cycled to Date: Unchanged
Days Spent in Huaraz, Peru: 13
In writing our blog entries, we try to maintain a smooth narrative to tell you our stories. But so many little things get missed along the way, so we thought we'd give you a few little bips and bops from along the way.
Spandex Cycling Shorts
A little over 6 months into our trip, I woke up one morning at the Costa Rican border, and started my daily routine of packing up my sleeping bag and getting dressed. I reached for my trusty spandex cycling shorts to get dressed for the day. We each brought along 2 pairs of shorts for the trip (with the intention of washing them daily - what optimists we were back then!). Being my favourite shorts of the two pairs, I had easily worn them over 100 times by this point. But as I was about to put them on, I looked at the tag, for what may have been the first time. Ladies Size Large. What? Over 100 times I had put on and off my shorts, and only on the day we entered Costa Rica did I realize that I had mistakenly bought Ladies cycling shorts. Still though - they fit nice and snug, and I can't really complain. However, I've decided that my black shorts are now my favourites.
Rummy Standings
1st - Jeff (13-11-0)
2nd - Keenan (11-13-0)
The Neverending Search for Peanut Butter
Almost every cyclist has a staple of peanut butter in their diet. It just makes sense. But the one fear that we always have is that we'll reach the point to the south where we just won't be able to find it anymore. When we reached San Diego, California, we stocked up. Would we be able to find it in Mexico? We didn't know, and so we weighed ourselves down just in case. Of course, Northern Baja has Walmarts and Costcos, and so we found some more. But - would we be able to find it once we left the orbit of the US and their tourists? We couldn't risk it, and so we stocked up some more. We had jars and jars of it, and hoped that one day we'd find it again. In La Paz, before leaving the Baja Penisula and heading to the mainland, we found a supermarket stocked with it. But could we find it in the mainland? We just didn't know, and so again, the panniers were weighed down. Luckily for us Mexico had great chains of supermarkets, and every city we stopped in, we would make sure we had at least an extra jar or two, just in case it was our last chance. This has kept going, time after time after time. We read in cyclists blogs how they can't find peanut butter in the country to our south, and so before leaving, we resupply with as much peanut butter as we can carry. Every single country that we've been to, we have found peanut butter. And still, we keep carrying extra jars, as if for luck. We heard that in Peru, you can't find peanut butter. Today we bought our 3rd jar of the country. So - a piece of advice for touring cyclists - if you look for peanut butter, you will find it.
Distance Cycled to Date: Unchanged
Days Spent in Huaraz, Peru: 13
In writing our blog entries, we try to maintain a smooth narrative to tell you our stories. But so many little things get missed along the way, so we thought we'd give you a few little bips and bops from along the way.
Spandex Cycling Shorts
A little over 6 months into our trip, I woke up one morning at the Costa Rican border, and started my daily routine of packing up my sleeping bag and getting dressed. I reached for my trusty spandex cycling shorts to get dressed for the day. We each brought along 2 pairs of shorts for the trip (with the intention of washing them daily - what optimists we were back then!). Being my favourite shorts of the two pairs, I had easily worn them over 100 times by this point. But as I was about to put them on, I looked at the tag, for what may have been the first time. Ladies Size Large. What? Over 100 times I had put on and off my shorts, and only on the day we entered Costa Rica did I realize that I had mistakenly bought Ladies cycling shorts. Still though - they fit nice and snug, and I can't really complain. However, I've decided that my black shorts are now my favourites.
Rummy Standings
1st - Jeff (13-11-0)
2nd - Keenan (11-13-0)
The Neverending Search for Peanut Butter
Almost every cyclist has a staple of peanut butter in their diet. It just makes sense. But the one fear that we always have is that we'll reach the point to the south where we just won't be able to find it anymore. When we reached San Diego, California, we stocked up. Would we be able to find it in Mexico? We didn't know, and so we weighed ourselves down just in case. Of course, Northern Baja has Walmarts and Costcos, and so we found some more. But - would we be able to find it once we left the orbit of the US and their tourists? We couldn't risk it, and so we stocked up some more. We had jars and jars of it, and hoped that one day we'd find it again. In La Paz, before leaving the Baja Penisula and heading to the mainland, we found a supermarket stocked with it. But could we find it in the mainland? We just didn't know, and so again, the panniers were weighed down. Luckily for us Mexico had great chains of supermarkets, and every city we stopped in, we would make sure we had at least an extra jar or two, just in case it was our last chance. This has kept going, time after time after time. We read in cyclists blogs how they can't find peanut butter in the country to our south, and so before leaving, we resupply with as much peanut butter as we can carry. Every single country that we've been to, we have found peanut butter. And still, we keep carrying extra jars, as if for luck. We heard that in Peru, you can't find peanut butter. Today we bought our 3rd jar of the country. So - a piece of advice for touring cyclists - if you look for peanut butter, you will find it.
A New Look
While we were in Trujillo, we finally couldn´t do it anymore. Every time we ate we would get a mouthful of mustache, and we realized that it was time to shave once more. So a trip to the barber and $2 later, we were clean-cut and clean-shaven. Here's the before and after.
Rankings
We like to make lists. We're working on top 10 lists for whatever we can think of, mainly because it's fun. And so when we left Panama, we ranked every country we've been in on a variety of angles. Here's a few. All of them are completely biased, most of which are based on one or two good (or bad) days. But they're our lists, and we can do what we want with them.
Central American Colas
1.Pepsi Retro Cola (Mexico)
2.Coca-Cola (All)
3.Pepsi Cola (All)
4.Super Cola (Guatemala)
5.Shaler Kola (Nicaragua)*
6.Salva Cola (El Salvador)
7.Raptor Cola (Guatemala)
*Jeff would place this at number 8 or lower if possible, whereas Keenan would place it at number 1. We compromised.
Highways
1.Canada
2.USA
3.Mexico
4.Nicaragua
5.El Salvador
6.Guatemala
7.Honduras
8.Costa Rica
9.Panama
Supermarkets
1.USA
2.Canada
3.Mexico
4.Panama
5.Costa Rica
6.El Salvador
7.Guatemala
8.Nicaragua
9.Honduras
Ease of Free Camping
1.Canada
2.Mexico
3.USA
4.Guatemala
5.Panama
6.El Salvador
7.Costa Rica
8.Nicaragua
9.Honduras
ride for HOPE team doubles.
We've been in Huaraz now for a long time. Nearly two weeks, which is the longest we've ever stayed in any one place besides Christmas. We didn't intend to stay so long - we came here with the intention of meeting Laura, a Canadian friend that we've met up with twice before in Ecuador and spend a few days here with her. Here in Huaraz, she rented a mountain bike and came along for a 2 day trip, to see what this touring cycling is all about. And of course, she decided she couldn't pass up the opportunity to join in on this adventure. After hearing our stories and seeing our pictures, she knew that she had to come along for at least a little while. If you really think about it, you might decide that buying a bicycle and joining two relative strangers on a bike trip through Peru without any planning or preparation is a little crazy. But - the crazy part of it comes when her sister surprised her with a visit to Peru, and after meeting us, decided that she had to come along too.
And so - the ride for HOPE team has doubled for the time being, with the 4 of us nearly ready to head out into the mountains of Peru. We've spent the last week doing what Jeff and I took a year to do - buying bicycles, sleeping bags, and a tent, and getting racks and panniers custom built for the trip. It's been quite an adventure, with daily trips to welders and seamstresses, trying to explain just what we need. It's crazy how you can get anything made for you in a Peruvian marketplace. Now we'll just see how good these homemade denim panniers hold up. The four of us have had a pretty great time this week getting everything organized, and just getting to know each other. Hopefully the fun will continue once they find out just what it's like to ride up and down Peruvian gravel roads, and over 4000 metre passes. We'll let you know how it goes.
We like to make lists. We're working on top 10 lists for whatever we can think of, mainly because it's fun. And so when we left Panama, we ranked every country we've been in on a variety of angles. Here's a few. All of them are completely biased, most of which are based on one or two good (or bad) days. But they're our lists, and we can do what we want with them.
Central American Colas
1.Pepsi Retro Cola (Mexico)
2.Coca-Cola (All)
3.Pepsi Cola (All)
4.Super Cola (Guatemala)
5.Shaler Kola (Nicaragua)*
6.Salva Cola (El Salvador)
7.Raptor Cola (Guatemala)
*Jeff would place this at number 8 or lower if possible, whereas Keenan would place it at number 1. We compromised.
Highways
1.Canada
2.USA
3.Mexico
4.Nicaragua
5.El Salvador
6.Guatemala
7.Honduras
8.Costa Rica
9.Panama
Supermarkets
1.USA
2.Canada
3.Mexico
4.Panama
5.Costa Rica
6.El Salvador
7.Guatemala
8.Nicaragua
9.Honduras
Ease of Free Camping
1.Canada
2.Mexico
3.USA
4.Guatemala
5.Panama
6.El Salvador
7.Costa Rica
8.Nicaragua
9.Honduras
ride for HOPE team doubles.
We've been in Huaraz now for a long time. Nearly two weeks, which is the longest we've ever stayed in any one place besides Christmas. We didn't intend to stay so long - we came here with the intention of meeting Laura, a Canadian friend that we've met up with twice before in Ecuador and spend a few days here with her. Here in Huaraz, she rented a mountain bike and came along for a 2 day trip, to see what this touring cycling is all about. And of course, she decided she couldn't pass up the opportunity to join in on this adventure. After hearing our stories and seeing our pictures, she knew that she had to come along for at least a little while. If you really think about it, you might decide that buying a bicycle and joining two relative strangers on a bike trip through Peru without any planning or preparation is a little crazy. But - the crazy part of it comes when her sister surprised her with a visit to Peru, and after meeting us, decided that she had to come along too.
And so - the ride for HOPE team has doubled for the time being, with the 4 of us nearly ready to head out into the mountains of Peru. We've spent the last week doing what Jeff and I took a year to do - buying bicycles, sleeping bags, and a tent, and getting racks and panniers custom built for the trip. It's been quite an adventure, with daily trips to welders and seamstresses, trying to explain just what we need. It's crazy how you can get anything made for you in a Peruvian marketplace. Now we'll just see how good these homemade denim panniers hold up. The four of us have had a pretty great time this week getting everything organized, and just getting to know each other. Hopefully the fun will continue once they find out just what it's like to ride up and down Peruvian gravel roads, and over 4000 metre passes. We'll let you know how it goes.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Jeff and Keenan Ride Northern Peru
Current Location: Huaraz, Peru
Distance Cycled to Date: 13,600 km
Flat Tires to Date: 47 (Keenan - 25, Jeff - 22)
Keenan and Jeff wanted to write a blog in the 3rd person, and so they did.
Arriving in Trujillo, Peru the boys found themselves on the doorstep of the Casa de Ciclistas. For the past weeks they had been talking about this moment, wondering, "Will we meet other cyclists?", "How long can we stay?", "Do you think we can get our bikes looked at?" Now as they stood anxiously waiting after their third knocking attempt, they began to worry nobody would be there. As they speculated as to what they should do, the door mercifully swung open. The boys were welcomed in to the house as if they were old friends. Introductions were exchanged and soon they felt as if they were indeed old friends.
The brothers were overwhelmed with excitement as they talked with the other 5 touring cyclists, and to the gracious owner of the Casa de Ciclistas, Lucho. Soon after arrival a large book was in their laps, its pages filled with the names of everyone who had stayed in this house before them. Flipping through the pages they were amazed at the sheer number of others who had passed through on their own adventure in the past 25 years. Writing their names in spots 1112, and 1113, they finally felt as if they had made it. Hours were spent in curiousity looking through all the old guestbooks, seeing all the faces and thoughts of those who had visited the Casa de Ciclistas. Coming across entries by people the boys had been inspired by years before was very special for them.
Over the next few days the boys would have a chance to relax and reflect on their trip so far. Although they had been traveling for eight months, both felt as if there was so much more to still experience. Talking with the other cyclists who had started in the south only fueled this desire to keep going. One evening in particular would prove to be pivotal. Hearing about all the amazing sites further south, both knew at that moment they had to continue to the end of the road - Ushuaia, Argentina. Anything else would be selling themselves short.
With this new resolve the boys left Trujillo heading up into the spectacular Cordillera Blanca mountains following the route that was recommended to them. Off the pavement they were on the 'good gravel' road they had heard about. However, after rattling along the gravel road, less than 2 kilometres in, Keenan was already having doubts, "Maybe we should only do part of this mountain route." The road would take their full concentration only allowing them to enjoy the scenery when they stopped. Keenan would stop and say, "Check that out," and Jeff once finally looking up would exclaim, "Wow, this is pretty cool!" They continued on in this fashion punishing their bikes along the rough road, soaking in the new surroundings with every break they took.
The road would graciously give way to pavement for a short stretch, mocking them as it lasted only 8km before becoming the rockiest road either had ever experienced. The single-lane road would twist through the narrow canyon beside the rushing river offering the boys some amazing sights as well as some unnerving rides through the dark tunnels. Once accustomed to the slow going nature of this road they both thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Spectacular scenery would surround them for days on end, with very little traffic to worry about. They found some great campsites offering some incredible views as the sun slowly set each night. Both agreed that these were some of their favourite moments of the trip so far.
When Keenan had first described this route to Jeff he thought it was a bit crazy, particularly when he described the 20km section with 35 tunnels on a single-lane dirt road. However, once reaching the Canon del Pato and the series of dark tunnels he was glad they had decided on the route. Each tunnel was an exhilarating rush for the brothers as their hearts raced and the possibility of meeting a vehicle in the dark narrow space pushed them to reach the end. With the noise of the river rushing just below the steep cliff, any vehicle noise was masked, which only added to the excitement. It would also lead to three separate tight squeezes as the boys pushed against the wall and the vehicles passed merely inches away. Once through the last of the tunnels and onto the pavement a hint of relief could be seen on their faces as they smoothly rode on.
Reaching the town of Caraz both felt like they needed a rest after the rough roads and climbing over 2000 m in elevation. With snow capped peaks surrounding them and the possibility of many hikes, they decided to visit Laguna Paron, a short 1 hour bus ride to the village of Paron and then a 4 to 5 hour hike to the lake. The thing the boys didn't know as they boarded the rickety van was that the lake had been closed to tourists. They arrived at the village shortly after 8 am, excited about the hike and with their backpacks full of their camping gear for the night. The bus disappeared and they only got 4 steps past the blockade before being stopped. Because of some un-understandable political reason, they couldn't hike to the lake. The brothers were discouraged, but didn't know what to do - walk back to town?... wait for the next bus?... they certainly couldn't visit the lake.
Keenan and Jeff didn't let that get them down for long though and decided they might as well try some sort of hike. After all, they had everything they needed for 2 days already packed on their backs. They cut through the schoolyard and some fields before stumbling upon a path, which seemed to lead up the mountain. Great, they thought and followed it. The path continued halfway up the mountain before becoming unrecognizable. Being the determined individuals they are, they didn't let this stop them and simply continued up the steep slope making their own path. It was tough going, with the altitude starting to hamper their breathing. When they reached the top they were rewarded beyond what they could have imagined with an amazing view of the surrounding mountain peaks, and a deep canyon below. Setting up their tent on the ridge before the cliff, both were sure that this was probably the best camp spot they had ever had.
Both were dreading the climb down the following morning and rightfully so. It was a steep grassy slope dotted with rocks, which with the frost melting created a slow, terrifying descent for the brothers. However, they carefully made their way down and arrived back in the village. A large crowd of young students surrounded them as they sat and waited for the bus. The kids would crowd in close just staring, as if they were an abstract piece of art they couldn't figure out. Then a few kids gained some confidence and had a great time throwing bugs in Jeff's hair and down his back. Keenan also thought this was funny. The bus did eventually come and they squished in the van with the 21 others (with three hanging off of the roof) for the ride back into Caraz.
The following day they made their way along the paved pot-hole filled highway to Huaraz. The road gently led them another 1000 m higher, as they passed towering cloud covered mountains. Once in Huaraz they met a local mountain biker who proceeded to help them find a suitable (eg, very cheap) hotel for their stay as well as introduce them to some local bike and travel enthusiasts. The Cook brothers are now enjoying the bigger city and all it offers before heading into the mountains and through more rough spectacular stretches. They can't wait to see what more Peru has to offer.
Keenan and Jeff also wanted to put up an album of them riding through Northern Peru, and so they did. Check it out here.
Distance Cycled to Date: 13,600 km
Flat Tires to Date: 47 (Keenan - 25, Jeff - 22)
Keenan and Jeff wanted to write a blog in the 3rd person, and so they did.
Arriving in Trujillo, Peru the boys found themselves on the doorstep of the Casa de Ciclistas. For the past weeks they had been talking about this moment, wondering, "Will we meet other cyclists?", "How long can we stay?", "Do you think we can get our bikes looked at?" Now as they stood anxiously waiting after their third knocking attempt, they began to worry nobody would be there. As they speculated as to what they should do, the door mercifully swung open. The boys were welcomed in to the house as if they were old friends. Introductions were exchanged and soon they felt as if they were indeed old friends.
The brothers were overwhelmed with excitement as they talked with the other 5 touring cyclists, and to the gracious owner of the Casa de Ciclistas, Lucho. Soon after arrival a large book was in their laps, its pages filled with the names of everyone who had stayed in this house before them. Flipping through the pages they were amazed at the sheer number of others who had passed through on their own adventure in the past 25 years. Writing their names in spots 1112, and 1113, they finally felt as if they had made it. Hours were spent in curiousity looking through all the old guestbooks, seeing all the faces and thoughts of those who had visited the Casa de Ciclistas. Coming across entries by people the boys had been inspired by years before was very special for them.
Over the next few days the boys would have a chance to relax and reflect on their trip so far. Although they had been traveling for eight months, both felt as if there was so much more to still experience. Talking with the other cyclists who had started in the south only fueled this desire to keep going. One evening in particular would prove to be pivotal. Hearing about all the amazing sites further south, both knew at that moment they had to continue to the end of the road - Ushuaia, Argentina. Anything else would be selling themselves short.
With this new resolve the boys left Trujillo heading up into the spectacular Cordillera Blanca mountains following the route that was recommended to them. Off the pavement they were on the 'good gravel' road they had heard about. However, after rattling along the gravel road, less than 2 kilometres in, Keenan was already having doubts, "Maybe we should only do part of this mountain route." The road would take their full concentration only allowing them to enjoy the scenery when they stopped. Keenan would stop and say, "Check that out," and Jeff once finally looking up would exclaim, "Wow, this is pretty cool!" They continued on in this fashion punishing their bikes along the rough road, soaking in the new surroundings with every break they took.
The road would graciously give way to pavement for a short stretch, mocking them as it lasted only 8km before becoming the rockiest road either had ever experienced. The single-lane road would twist through the narrow canyon beside the rushing river offering the boys some amazing sights as well as some unnerving rides through the dark tunnels. Once accustomed to the slow going nature of this road they both thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Spectacular scenery would surround them for days on end, with very little traffic to worry about. They found some great campsites offering some incredible views as the sun slowly set each night. Both agreed that these were some of their favourite moments of the trip so far.
When Keenan had first described this route to Jeff he thought it was a bit crazy, particularly when he described the 20km section with 35 tunnels on a single-lane dirt road. However, once reaching the Canon del Pato and the series of dark tunnels he was glad they had decided on the route. Each tunnel was an exhilarating rush for the brothers as their hearts raced and the possibility of meeting a vehicle in the dark narrow space pushed them to reach the end. With the noise of the river rushing just below the steep cliff, any vehicle noise was masked, which only added to the excitement. It would also lead to three separate tight squeezes as the boys pushed against the wall and the vehicles passed merely inches away. Once through the last of the tunnels and onto the pavement a hint of relief could be seen on their faces as they smoothly rode on.
Reaching the town of Caraz both felt like they needed a rest after the rough roads and climbing over 2000 m in elevation. With snow capped peaks surrounding them and the possibility of many hikes, they decided to visit Laguna Paron, a short 1 hour bus ride to the village of Paron and then a 4 to 5 hour hike to the lake. The thing the boys didn't know as they boarded the rickety van was that the lake had been closed to tourists. They arrived at the village shortly after 8 am, excited about the hike and with their backpacks full of their camping gear for the night. The bus disappeared and they only got 4 steps past the blockade before being stopped. Because of some un-understandable political reason, they couldn't hike to the lake. The brothers were discouraged, but didn't know what to do - walk back to town?... wait for the next bus?... they certainly couldn't visit the lake.
Keenan and Jeff didn't let that get them down for long though and decided they might as well try some sort of hike. After all, they had everything they needed for 2 days already packed on their backs. They cut through the schoolyard and some fields before stumbling upon a path, which seemed to lead up the mountain. Great, they thought and followed it. The path continued halfway up the mountain before becoming unrecognizable. Being the determined individuals they are, they didn't let this stop them and simply continued up the steep slope making their own path. It was tough going, with the altitude starting to hamper their breathing. When they reached the top they were rewarded beyond what they could have imagined with an amazing view of the surrounding mountain peaks, and a deep canyon below. Setting up their tent on the ridge before the cliff, both were sure that this was probably the best camp spot they had ever had.
Both were dreading the climb down the following morning and rightfully so. It was a steep grassy slope dotted with rocks, which with the frost melting created a slow, terrifying descent for the brothers. However, they carefully made their way down and arrived back in the village. A large crowd of young students surrounded them as they sat and waited for the bus. The kids would crowd in close just staring, as if they were an abstract piece of art they couldn't figure out. Then a few kids gained some confidence and had a great time throwing bugs in Jeff's hair and down his back. Keenan also thought this was funny. The bus did eventually come and they squished in the van with the 21 others (with three hanging off of the roof) for the ride back into Caraz.
The following day they made their way along the paved pot-hole filled highway to Huaraz. The road gently led them another 1000 m higher, as they passed towering cloud covered mountains. Once in Huaraz they met a local mountain biker who proceeded to help them find a suitable (eg, very cheap) hotel for their stay as well as introduce them to some local bike and travel enthusiasts. The Cook brothers are now enjoying the bigger city and all it offers before heading into the mountains and through more rough spectacular stretches. They can't wait to see what more Peru has to offer.
Keenan and Jeff also wanted to put up an album of them riding through Northern Peru, and so they did. Check it out here.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Why We're Still Riding.
Current Location: Trujillo, Peru
Distance Cycled to Date: 13,275 km
Flat Tires to Date: 45 (Keenan - 24, Jeff - 21)
We've now been on the road for exactly 8 months, and there have been a lot of challenging days. We've biked up incredibly steep hills, through rain, through cold, through hot, and against headwinds that seem determined to send us back home. But probably the hardest thing that we've had to deal with has been biking through areas affected by incredible poverty. Before leaving home we had committed to raising $50,000 for a HOPE International project in the Dominican Republic, rebuilding irrigation systems and community greenhouses. And in these last months of cycling we have seen firsthand the need present in so much of Latin America. It's impossible to forget just why we wanted to raise this money to help those in need - every day we see such poverty that it's heartbreaking. Here in northern Peru we have ridden over 700 km through a dry, desert landscape, with small settlements of only mud-brick shacks; people living with almost nothing at all.
Jeff and I have not wanted to come across as continually asking the same people over and over again for donations. We have a strong subscriber base to our blog, and we know that the majority of you, our regular readers, have already made donations - some quite sizable ones. And we want to thank you for that. Every time we get an email from home telling us about another cheque sent in we get so excited. With your help, we have now raised over $14,000.
This is great news; however, we still have a ways to go. We had set an initial goal of $50,000, and still believe that we can meet this in order to help rebuild these irrigation systems and community greenhouses needed to enable villages in the San Jose de Ocoa region to grow sufficient food to feed themselves and start producing an income. Every day as we cycle we are reminded just how lucky we are to have been born in Canada, and have all the opportunties that we do.
We want to thank everybody who has already placed a donation through our website to HOPE International. Now we want to remind you that we still have room for this fundraising to grow. And so we'd love it if you could tell a friend, email your cousin, and talk to your boss. Tell them what we're doing, tell them how much a difference they could make with just a small donation, and always keep in mind just how blessed we are.
HOPE's donation page can be found here - just select 'other' on the drop-down menu, and write "ride for HOPE", or "Keenan and Jeff's ride for HOPE" on the comments section to make sure that the money goes towards this project in the Dominican.
...
At the moment, we're in Trujillo, Peru, taking a few days off at the 'Casa de Ciclistas', a house run by Lucho, a local cyclist dedicated to giving touring cyclists a place to relax here in Peru. We've biked for nearly a week through pretty featurless desert, through the potential thieves lair of Paijan, and arrived here to meet 5 other cyclists, all heading north. It's been great to be able to just relax and talk with other cyclists, the first we've met on the road since Guatemala, and get information on all the routes and sites ahead.
We've put up our Ecuador album - you can go check it out now, and then after that, go tell a friend to donate! More information on HOPE and on the project we're raising money for can be found on our website. Send some people this link, forward on the email; let's see what kind of a difference we really can make.
Distance Cycled to Date: 13,275 km
Flat Tires to Date: 45 (Keenan - 24, Jeff - 21)
We've now been on the road for exactly 8 months, and there have been a lot of challenging days. We've biked up incredibly steep hills, through rain, through cold, through hot, and against headwinds that seem determined to send us back home. But probably the hardest thing that we've had to deal with has been biking through areas affected by incredible poverty. Before leaving home we had committed to raising $50,000 for a HOPE International project in the Dominican Republic, rebuilding irrigation systems and community greenhouses. And in these last months of cycling we have seen firsthand the need present in so much of Latin America. It's impossible to forget just why we wanted to raise this money to help those in need - every day we see such poverty that it's heartbreaking. Here in northern Peru we have ridden over 700 km through a dry, desert landscape, with small settlements of only mud-brick shacks; people living with almost nothing at all.
Jeff and I have not wanted to come across as continually asking the same people over and over again for donations. We have a strong subscriber base to our blog, and we know that the majority of you, our regular readers, have already made donations - some quite sizable ones. And we want to thank you for that. Every time we get an email from home telling us about another cheque sent in we get so excited. With your help, we have now raised over $14,000.
This is great news; however, we still have a ways to go. We had set an initial goal of $50,000, and still believe that we can meet this in order to help rebuild these irrigation systems and community greenhouses needed to enable villages in the San Jose de Ocoa region to grow sufficient food to feed themselves and start producing an income. Every day as we cycle we are reminded just how lucky we are to have been born in Canada, and have all the opportunties that we do.
We want to thank everybody who has already placed a donation through our website to HOPE International. Now we want to remind you that we still have room for this fundraising to grow. And so we'd love it if you could tell a friend, email your cousin, and talk to your boss. Tell them what we're doing, tell them how much a difference they could make with just a small donation, and always keep in mind just how blessed we are.
HOPE's donation page can be found here - just select 'other' on the drop-down menu, and write "ride for HOPE", or "Keenan and Jeff's ride for HOPE" on the comments section to make sure that the money goes towards this project in the Dominican.
...
At the moment, we're in Trujillo, Peru, taking a few days off at the 'Casa de Ciclistas', a house run by Lucho, a local cyclist dedicated to giving touring cyclists a place to relax here in Peru. We've biked for nearly a week through pretty featurless desert, through the potential thieves lair of Paijan, and arrived here to meet 5 other cyclists, all heading north. It's been great to be able to just relax and talk with other cyclists, the first we've met on the road since Guatemala, and get information on all the routes and sites ahead.
We've put up our Ecuador album - you can go check it out now, and then after that, go tell a friend to donate! More information on HOPE and on the project we're raising money for can be found on our website. Send some people this link, forward on the email; let's see what kind of a difference we really can make.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
