Jeff in Huascaran national park
Sechura desert
After a 3 week break in Trujillo, it was a pleasure to be on the road again. To feel the asphalt underneath the pedals, the hot and dry air, the boring landscape of the desert all around us and the grayish blue sky defused by the violent mid day sun.
Lucho followed us in his bicycle until the exit of the city. When we said goodbye to him we were already surrounded by the vast dune mass that forms the desert of Sechura south of Trujillo. The empty world around us was of an almost suffocating yellow. Km after Km of sand dunes, with the horizon to lose sight.
The Pan-American highway south of Trujillo
But in this apparent barren and deserted land, there is also life. Life created By Man in his continued and irrevocable lewdness to dominate the nature. Some times far in the horizon, like if it was a mirage, we could sight oasis of an intense green. The green of the nature submission. The colourful fields of sugar cane, asparagus and artichokes, were opposed strongly to the dry tones of the desert land. These plantations belong to foreign corporations and are irrigated with the waters of the river Santa through the government`s mega-project, that slowly is conquering the desert.
According to Lucho`s indications at the km 487 of the Pan-American highway, a private road would take us in a short cut to the River Santa, preventing us to cycle south until the its estuary and saving us about 100 km.
The private dirt road was one of the access roads to the hydroelectric-power installations of Chavimochic. A vast multi-project of electricity production and irrigation of the desert using the waters of the river Santa.
Joana and me travelled alone again, at our won rhythm and pace. Jeff left ahead of us. "We see ourselves later, perhaps in Huaraz", we said.
The traffic on this road was almost nonexistent. Without the noise and the smoke of the Pan-American`s trucks, we could now contemplate the desert in its absolute beauty. We arrive at the river Santa shores, an interruption of green in this vast barren landscape, one of the many rivers that came down the Andes and gives life to this coastal desert.
Callejón de Huaylas
In the days that followed we cycled about 250 km always along this river, since near its estuary, until Huaraz, 80 km from its spring in the lake of Conacocha, at 4113m of altitude.
We camp one last night in the desert. The silence was absolute, almost painful. After 50 km on the private road, we arrive at the main road, whose tarmac finishes in the village of Chuquicara.
During the following 5 days, we cycled along the river Santa on a road that despite the soft inclinations, was of such a bad conditions that made progress very slow. But the road was not the only factor for our slow moving pace, the landscape was of such a splendor that compelled us to stop frequently in order to contemplate it. We cycled during days "inside" a enormous canyon.
In the first part, also the prettiest, the road followed the riverbed with the imposing walls of the canyon on both sides. In the upper part of canyon, known as Canyon del Pato, the road climbs up the west side of the canyon, breaking away from the river. In this part of the Canyon del Pato the cordillera Blanca and Cordillera Negra are so close to each other that the only way to built the road was by perforating the mountain. We had to cross no less then 35 tunnels. Despite the natural light, these tunnels presented some times, challenges for our bicycles.
On the 5th day the mountain ranges start to open up giving place to the fertile valley of the river Santa, already above 2000 meters of altitude. 25 km before Caraz, the asphalt starts again, so does the houses and villages. Men, women, old and new, all seem to work the fertile lands of the valley. The hostile climate of the mountains and the impious sun leave its marks in the faces of the farmers, its faces are burnt by the sun and the arsh weather.
Huaraz
Huaraz is the Andean capital of the adventure sports. The terraces of the disorganized and ugly city disclose the panoramic views that dominate it: the Cordillera Blanca, one of more impressive mountain ranges on the planet, with its 22peaks above 6000 meters. The city was almost total destroyed by the 1970`s earthquake, but it reappeared from the rubble rapidity, to become the "metropolis" of adrenalin sports that is today.
Huaraz may be just another ugly Peruvian town, but for me its also an excellent place to look for that spare part of outdoor equipment so difficult to found in many other south American towns, and for us, the place to decide about the next cycling route.
Joana finished her cycling here, at least for now. I went with her to the capital, Lima, on a long 8 hour bus journey. In the glance of a short day we had a quick look at Centro historico and finished our 24 hour visit to the capital at one of the city`s main park, where we attend the fantastic fountain and light show "passage de agua".
We both leave the city on that same night. Joana to Ayacucho, on another long trip of 10 hours by bus, the place where she would go to work as voluntary for 3 weeks in an institution that it deals with special children abandoned by their parents.
I returned to Huaraz, and after a night`s rest, left with Jeff to Huanuco, Huancayo and later Ayacucho. A stage of 960 km with half dozen passes above 4000m, that we hoped to make in less than 2 weeks.
Cordillera Blanca
We cycled the first 38 km following the River Santa, that now is no more than a small stream in the narrow valley. The landscape was very pleasant, with small forests of eucalyptus that offered some shelter from the wind. It existed a certain harmony in the land: the green plantations in the hillsides of the Cordillera Negra to the West, the eucalyptus and the adobe houses along the highway, and to the East, like a stage curtain, the granite towers covered by white powder completed the mosaic of the landscape.
In Catac (3600m) we stop in a restaurant for a small pause and one mate de Coca- coca leaves tea. There, a dirt road moved away from the main road and went up slowly the Cordillera Blanca. We cycle now above 4000 meters of altitude and could already feel the consequences of rarefied air.
The only information that we had of this dirt road, apart from coming on my map as "camino carrozable", had come from a Mountain Bike guide that I meet in Huaraz and that described the road as "abandoned". This dirt road that bounds Catac with the pass of Abra Yamashallah (4720m), through the Huascaran national park, was not only a short cut on our itinerary, but also a trip through the unknown.
With the inclinations more accentuated the cardiac rhythm increases. Some times our progress was incredible slow, with stops to catch our breath each 100 meters or so. We had bought food for several days and my panniers where loaded with roughly 40 or 50 Kg, Jeff`s load, as usual, was even bigger with probably 60 or 70 Kg.
My decision in cycling for these remote parts of the planet, does not come without spirit of sacrifice, its physical and mental challenges, and it consequences: thus is the life of a cycling vagabond! Decisions, circumstances and consequences. I have to accept the inconveniences of these challenges as the price to pay for my decisions.
We camp at 4229 meters of altitude near the source of natural gasified water spring(Boca de Puma), where I had a bad night sleep with strong headaches and shivering, symptoms of a fast ascent caused by my trip by bus to Lima, where in less than 48 hours I went down to sea level and returned to 3100 meters of altitude (Huaraz), and only with a night`s rest cycled above 4000 meters.
Close to the camping spot a small forest of Puya Raimondi, native plants of the Andes that are found only between 3200 and 4800 meters of altitude, and that supposedly can live up to 100 years.
At dawn the clarity awakes us disclosing plus another day of blue sky and and high white clouds. Since we left Trujillo that it rained only in the days that we spent in Huaraz. The raining season seemed to have finished at last.
I felt happy.
Since Chiapas in Mexico in May last year that I have been travelling always under the several raining seasons of the continent. We continue our journey.
We can see far ahead the road that follows its way through the wild valley. At the end of this valley, the road zigzags up the hillside until we loose sight of it somewhere on the top of the mountain. It takes us several hours to reach the pass. On the other side the revelation! A gigantic valley covered by a mantle of lime-green and encircled by white peaks. It seemed that all the production of Coca in the country was spilled on those cathedrals of granite and ice. Each curve seemed to disclose a new painting of irrefutable beauty.
After a small descending of 200 meters one curve discloses the continuation of the road far in the horizon. The road continued to go up but of our right side we observe what seemed to be an arm of the mountain that extended until the deeps of the valley. Its top offered 360 degrees views of the valleys and peaks around us, some of them above of 6000m. A perfect place to camp.
It was only 2pm and we had made only 28 km, but the place was too pretty to be ignored. We filled our bottles with water from the roadside and pushed the bicycles (Jeff cycled his) through the mountain crest until we reached its higher point with the steep valley at the bottom, and all the white peaks around us.
We were in the center of three-dimensional puzzle in a vertical world, that is impossible to me to describe. Perhaps the photos will make it some justice:
At 4830m I had reached not only the highest pass and camping spot on this trip, but also one of the prettiest places where I ever camped. I remembered Joana and how much I would have liked that she was there with me. Next morning we wake up with a fine layer of snow over the tents and bicycles.
We follow our journey.
Our road continues to climb very softly until reaching its highest point at 4876 meters, according to indications of Jeff`s GPS, my altimeter stop working since a heavy rainy day in southern Ecuador. From here gravity was on our side and we initiate the descend until the asphalt road, in the north side of the Abra Yamashallah pass (4720m) and then further until Huallanca.
In Huallanca the asphalt finishes again and we cycle 4 more days through bad dirt roads until Huanuco. Some times the gravel and rocky road was in very very bad state, as was the case of the 35 km of downhill, between the pass Corona del Inca (3979m) and the city of Huanuco (1910m), that required some skills and technique, and loads of patience not fall on the loss gravel.
Corona del Inca
Semana Santa of Huanuco
"YOU, that says to be son of God, why don't you save yourself?", The bad thief said to Christ crucified on the cross, with its face and body covered with blood and his head fallen immovable between the shoulders. Maria and her friends cried close to the cross, and the soldiers of Cesar with its rude activities, completed the surrealistic atmosphere.
Hours before a multitude of thousand of people, had followed the long and treacherous walk of Jesus from the center of Huanuco until the place of Crucifixion on the top of a mount in the periphery of the city. The leather straps of the guards of Cesar slashed Jesus and the two thieves`backs over and over again. I felt my skin shivering with the realism of the act of the several dozen of actors, and also by the comments from some of the participants: "crucify them", "crucify them".
We had arrive in the city of Huanuco at the end of Semana Santa, the Easter weekend. The most celebrated religious festival of the Peruvian calendar. I am Lusitano, and have a Cristian education, and I`ve watched this type of celebrations throughout my child and adult life, but in no another part I attended a Christian religious event with such realism and fervor like at the Semana Santa of Huanuco. Here in the heart of the Andean mountain range, the Cristian faith mixed with Inca and pagan influences has another dimensions. These festivities are lived with a very strong passion, belief and religious faith, and are the expression of people who live a arduous life day today. A refuge to the hostilities that their lives provide to them.
The Altiplano
The national highway 3 that crosses the city center, goes northeast to Tingo Maria and the amazon jungle, or south and the high plateau of Junin and later Huancayo. We continue south. It takes us more then a day to reach a pass of 4387 meters of altitude, near Cerro de Pasco. The flat road, now a asphalt road in great shape, crosses the monotonous and cold landscape of the Altiplano of Junin, without going down the 4000 meters mark, during more than 100 km.
Unlike the Cordillera Blanca, here the landscape is desolated, cold and monotonous. The cold wind of the high plateau does not invite for many stops, so we decided to add up kms and move on at full speed. We spend a cold night in the village of Junin, a historical place and center of battles between Incas and Spaniards, and in the following day we cycle all the way until Jauja, already in the valley of Mantaro, finishing the day with 142 km cycled.
The reencounter
It was time for me and Jeff to say good bye once again. We had different plans for the weeks ahead, but who knows, we will met up once again somewhere on the road. Jeff continued to Huncavelica and to the Pacific coast, and I followed the Andean spine route to Ayacucho and met up with Joana again. In Izuchaca finishes the asphalt one more time. Ahead of me, over 200 km of gravel roads that I hoped to do in 3 very long days. A remote, dusty and irregular road, territory of zancudos (mosquitoes) and tarantulas, but also with some parts of great natural beauty, especially around Mayocc, with the beautiful Canyon of ooo. The Canyon presents a desert-like landscape but full of cactus that reminded me the desert of Baja in Mexico.
Its not a river...but my road!
960 km and 15 days later, as promised, Joana and I where together once again. We are going to leave in a couple of days for another cycling stage in the Andean mountains. This time, about 500 km until Aguas Calientes. The mountain landscape is so "wrinkled" in this part of Andes, that we probably have in front of us one of the most difficult stages of our cycling trip in Peru.
Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa
In Ayacucho, Peru.
