DAY 1
52 km
Highest point 3737m
Overnight altitude of 3700m
From Oruro to somewhere in the Pampa, 6km after Toledo.
We left Oruro late, it was 11.45 am. Last night we stayed up till late in the company of the owner’s sons, expiriencing some local delicatessen, ruestro de cordero and learning how to chew Coca leaves.
The leaves were mixed in the mouth with sweet “Lejia”, a mixture of camote (sweet potato) with ashes and God knows what else. The alkaloid effect left the mouth dormant throughout and a feeling of euphoria and well being. Chewing Coca leaves is an Andean habit as old as its history, which we would experience during the coming weeks. It helps to breathe better in altitude, they say!
The paved road out of Oruro skirts the north shore of Lake Uru Uru whose name was the origin of the mining town of Oruro. A beautiful lake with a few flamingos and some domestic animals searching for food in shallow waters of the lake. The paved road ends in Toledo, a small village where we stopped to buy more supplies and 6 liters of water. From today on, and over the coming weeks we must be prepared with water and food for several days.
East of Toledo begins the washboard road or "calaminas", as its known locally, and a real nightmare for touring cyclists.
Ocasionaly we could cycle over the Pampa avoiding the "calaminas".
We setup camp at around 5pm in the middle of the Pampa, or Andean plains. The colors of the sunset gave some beauty to the landscape that was otherwise dull and monotonous. We cooked for the first time in our new MSR stove that we surprisingly found on sale at a shop near Oruro’s market, the same model then my previous one that stop working but that I still carry inside my panniers.
DAY 2
34.6km
Highest point 3816m
Overnight altitude 3781m camp
From (after) Toledo to (after) Jankhokala.
The day today yielded little in terms of cycling for various reasons, the morning’s cold forced us to stay inside the tent until late, and after a prolonged breakfast were on the road well after 11am. In the afternoon Joana’s back rack broke for the second time, which left me worried because it seems that it’s not going to hold the roads of the altiplano. But what occupied much of our day was the landscape around a lake 4 km after Copacabanita, whose reflections of the surrounding mountains in the shallow waters populated by flamingos were the Kodak moment of the day.
The road has worsened a little continuing with its washboard style and with little, but dusty traffic. We went through Copacabanita, a village of road workers with a small "shop" where we buy some more water. 3 km after Jankhokala, another abandoned village and sign of the people’s desertion of the altiplano to the cities. We find a camping spot between the stones on top of a hill and spent another very cold night.
DAY 3
46.5 km
Highest point 3882m
Overnight altitude 3742m
From (after) Jankhokala (after) Opoqueri.
Today a pleasant surprise awaited us.
Ancaravi is a small village with a "peaje" (road toll) surrounded by half a dozen tin shacks, selling to the little traffic that passes by, pique macho, a local dish made of sausage and potato chips, soaked in abundant tomato sauce, mayonnaise and spicy sauce.
Here ended the washboard road and began the asphalt (or cement rather). None of our 4Bolivians maps showed the road as paved. The new road also coincided with the change of scenery that was now much harsher. Semi-desert and corrugated plains where hundreds of Lamas and alpacas grazed on the vegetation, occasionally we could see some vicuñas, the wild relatives of the Lamas.
That afternoon I reached the 30.000 km cycled since I left Inuvik in Canada.
After our lunch the wind stepped up coming directly from the West, Chile and the Pacific. We cycle with some difficulty with our bicycles next to each another to save energy. By late afternoon we arrive in Opequeri, another desolated village on this route. Each day that passes the greater the desolation of the landscape and also of the small villages that that exists on it.
In an adobe house by the simple dirt main square, a kind and very surprised lady by the presence of the foreign visitors, sells us the little she had on offer: 6 eggs, powder milk, 1 kg of potatoes and a bag of Coca leaves and "lejia", there was not much more on sale. We loaded our bikes and left into the vast Pampa. Far on the horizon, one could see several mountains, probably part of the western cordillera that forms the natural barrier between Bolivia and Chile. We camped in the middle of the Pampa where we spent a very cold night.
DAY 4
51.5 kms
Highest point 3783m
Overnight altitude 3740m
From (after) Opoqueri to (after) Huachacalla.
We wake up with our tent frozen. It had been the coldest night that I ever camped, minus16 degrees, and condensation during the night was high. My sleeping bag has a comfort limit of minus 7 degrees and even with all my clothes on, and the hot water bottle (we bought it in La Paz for less than a Euro and has been a great piece of equipment for the freezing nights of the Altiplano), I felt the cold throughout my body. After our already lengthy traditional breakfast (we are lazy cyclists), we got on our bike by 11am. The intense cold doesn’t invite to leave the tent before 8am, even if the sun sires before 7am. A few kilometers later we arrive at “Parinacota" viewpoint with fantastic views to a lake full of flamingos and with several mountains reflecting in the shallow waters crowned by Sajama volcano, at 6542m is the highest peak in Bolivia. Lamas and some Vicuñas grazed close by. The beauty of the landscape was simply fantastic; it seemed like a surreal painting. It would have been the perfect place for camping. We walked for some time by the shores of the lake whose salted waters had a strong sulfur smell.
On the road again we headed to Huachacalla where we hoped to find food supplies, water and gasoline. The excellent road cut through the arid plains in endless straight lines, we could see two mountains in the distance which protected the village from the strong winds coming from Chile.
Forbiden to do what??
It was 52km on an endless road to the foothills of the mountains and to the village. On the way we could spot some wildlife: eagles, vicuñas, Nandùs (American ostriches) and other animals, one of them, an eagle hanging dead in a mast with several empty bottles around it on the side of the road, a sign of some sort of witchcraft.
In the village of Huachacalla with about 2 thousand inhabitants, one of the largest on this first stretch between Oruro and Uyuni, we find food and water but not gasoline. We buy one liter of diesel in the hope that our stoves worked with it. The asphalt road ended here. We would not see more of it over the next 47 days! We continued our journey through the washboard roads to Escara, Chipaya, and later the Coipasa salt flats, at least that was the planned route. 8 km after Huachacalla, and shortly after passing through yet another abandoned village, we setup camp in the Pampa protected from the wind by a small mountain. The diesel, very oily, did not work in our stoves. We make a bonfire and we put the pots on the fire. Joana prepares a delicious chicken meal.
We never imagined that when traveling by bicycle in Bolivia, we would have so many difficulties in finding gasoline. It seems that despite the government of Evo Morales doesn’t want to admit, Bolivia has entered in a fuel crisis, and this was the second time that we could not find gasoline for our stoves. Tomorrow we will have to decide what to do: either stick with our route without gasoline, or go back to Huachacallas and then hitchhike to Pisiga, next to the Chilean border and found some gasoline there.
We are increasingly travelling in the middle of nowhere, where the villages marked on our maps are no more than mere clusters of houses with very limited supplies. The landscape is increasingly inhospitable and wild. In Huachacallas, we raised our average water stock to 10 litters. Another sunny day and freezing cold night with minus 7 degrees.
DAY 5
33 km
Highest point 3780m
Overnight altitude 3692m
From (after) Huachacalla to Chipaya.
We made a bonfire with shrubs roots and branches, cooked breakfast on fire and left by 11am determined to find gasoline in Escara or Chipaya. Not far from our campsite some old structures that after a closer look, we found out they were tombs, some with human skulls and bones exposed on the ground. We assume that they belong to the Uru Chipaya civilization, one of the oldest in the Americas which date to 2500 BC.
In Escara (km 15), we didn’t found any petrol. 10 km after we arrive at the river Lauca whose freezing waters we have to cross barefoot and also helped some pastors cross their flocks of sheep.
Some will die because of the icy water, one said. The government is building a bridge over the river Lauca and the project’s engineers gave us a liter of petrol.
40 km south of Huachacalla is located the picturesque village of Santa Ana de Chipaya, the center of what’s left of the Chipaya’s culture and whose residents are direct descendants of the Uru-Chipaya. A village lost in the vast altiplano and near the north shores of the salar de Coipasa that still holds strongly to its roots. When asked by us about accommodation, one of the residents takes us to the Alcaide’s house, the local leader, who offered us shelter in his meeting room decorated with posters of several indigenous leaders, a small altar with several strange objects like animal horns, coca leaves and the floors covered with fur from Lama and Alpaca.
We slept on the floor. Tomorrow we hope to reach the salt flat shores.
DAY 6
8 km
Highest point 3728m
Overnight altitude 3679m
From Chipaya a Lama’s shelter.
Today was a surreal day. We woke up with a grey, cold and cloudy sky. We spent the entire morning searching for food and water in the village, but after visiting all the shops and knocking at the doors of a handful of private houses, everything we could find were: 5 eggs, biscuits, toilet paper and cans of sardines. There was no bottled water and once again, gasoline. Taken by some locals’ advice we decided to change the route and ride until Sabaya, 40 km to the north, in search of food. They indicate us that we have to cross the river Lauca and that once on the other side; we would find a path that leads us to Sabaya. An elderly man pointed us a place where the river was less deep. Once on the other side of the river we found ourselves not with one, but several paths.
We follow the one that seemed to go to the mountains ahead of us. Shortly after the paths disappear and we found ourselves in the middle of the Pampa surrounded by strange old houses where no one lived.
The ground was flat and not too rough so we decided to make an azimuth to the mountains in whose slopes the old man said Sabaya was situated. The ground got swampier and muddier and we had little streams to cross sometimes a pannier each time.
Progress was very slow. We did only 8 km all day, pushing our bikes most of it. The landscape around us was surreal. Strange old houses all around us and no soul in sight apart from some Lamas, far in the horizon a hurricane raised a huge cloud of dust and behind us the sky was dark and gloomy.
Anticipating a storm, we decided not to ride anymore and seek refuge. It was 4pm, close by we found a Lama’s shelter that seemed in disuse and where we could protected ourselves from the strong wind. We setup camp.
The landscape was desolated but fascinating, despite the many homes, there were no soul around us. We don’t have much more food left and tomorrow we must arrive in Sabaya and find sufficient supplies for the crossing of the desert salt flats.
DAY 7
20.9 km
Highest point 3738m
Overnight camp 3692m
From the Lama’s shelter to the sand dunes.
What a day, the saga continues!
After another cold night that probably reached the minus 20 degrees, we continued our cycling through the Pampa. Yesterday evening we saw a motorcycle passing by in the distance and thought it would an indicative of a trail. We looked for the trail for a couple of hours without success. This Pampa, surrounding the northern part of the salar of Coipasa has an absolutely flat ground and allowed us to ride at random by brief moments. We follow our azimuth to the mountains ahead of us where Sabaya was situated. At noon we began to cycle in a scrub land area that little by little was becoming very sandy. Today we did little cycling, and except for small sections, it was always pushing and dragging our loaded bike. We stop for a break and a coffee and continue push the bikes through the sandy trails. Suddenly I feel strong dizziness, fainted and collapsed on the ground. I woke up instants later in Joana’s arms. A few dozen meters later I felt another tension breakdown. Perhaps cigarettes, coffee, altitude, the excessive physical effort or all together, I do not know!
The land around us becomes increasingly sandier and the landscape looks rough and lonely. By mid-afternoon we found several cars tracks marked on the sand.
We follow the ones that were more deep. Shortly after Joana stops her bicycle and turning up to me says:
- Carinho do you see the same as I do?
- Where, I replied.
- Over there in front of us, that sand dune, she exclaimed!
A few hundred meters ahead of us a huge dune obstructed the way. In Chipaya the locals had spoken of a sandy path not of enormous dunes to cross!
We dragged a bicycle each time through the dune, and continuing pushing the bikes through the sandy trail. We were now surrounded by vast plains of sand and low shrubs without a soul around. Behind us the village of Chipaya had disappeared. Sometime later to our complete astonishment another sand dune, this one of several meters high and with hundreds of meters in length. We could not believe it. But what is this? We are cycling in the Bolivian altiplano or in the Sahara’s desert?
We came closer and walked up the dune. I could not believe in what my eyes were seeing. It was not just a dune but many, there where dunes everywhere. It was 5pm and we could already see the village of Sabaya blurred in the slope of the mountain. It could take us hours, maybe more one day going through all these dunes. With the strong wind would be very difficult to continue and temperatures drop to zero degrees shortly after the sun sets. We decided to setup camp right there, next to the dunes and in the middle of the trail.
We cook the remains of food that we had. We had 2 liters of water left. We were both exhausted from pushing (and pull) the bikes through sand all day and I had had a miserable day, weak, without energy and concerned by the reactions of my body this afternoon.
During the evening a man and his child pass by on their bikes. Joana talks to them and confirms that we are on the right track to Sabaya. If this is the right way, then why the people with whom we talk about it in Chipayas didn’t speak about all those sand dunes, but only of sandy trails? Did they think that we could ride our bikes with 50 kg of load through dunes?
Another very cold night, minus 12 degrees.
DAY 8
10.8 km
Highest point 3728m
Overnight altitude 3732m
From the sand dune to Sabaya.
The fact that we could see Sabaya on the horizon and that we have spoken with the father and son the night before gave us enough motivation to tackle the sand dunes and finish this surreal stretch of 40 km in 3 days just to find food, water and gasoline. For breakfast the remains of last night’s dinner and a tea for two. We kept the equivalent of another cup of tea for the road. That was all the water that remained. Decided to follow the bicycles tracks of last night’s father and son that resulted in a good tactic, because even though we have to push all the time we didn’t have to cross the bigger dunes.
It was yet another 8 km of sand to reach Sabaya that took us all the morning to do. When we arrived near the village and the sandy ground begins to give way to a trail where we could step on the bicycles and ride, we thought that we were near the end of our adventure. But no! Shortly after came a river to cross (bridges in the Bolivian highlands are a mirage) and shortly after another, this one still half-frozen whose freezing waters I left me with frost bites on my feet and ankles for many weeks.
3 days and 40 km after we finally arrived at the village of Sabaya.
My definition of touring cycling had changed forever. The difficulties are not just horrible washboard roads, strong winds or a steep climb, cycling without roads is perhaps the greatest of them! But other difficulties are waiting for us over the coming weeks. We devote the rest of the day shopping for sufficient groceries for the crossing of the salar de Coipasa. We increase our water stock to 12 liters, 2 liters of gasoline and food in autonomy for 4 days. Tomorrow we will get on the road again, this time, we hope, without sand.
On the next blog I will describe the amazing crossing of the desert salt flats of Coipasa and Uyuni, where not only we spend many more hours pushing our bikes through the sand, but also ride over the shallow waters of Lake Coipasa in a total of 240 km cycled over salt.
Follow my trip also through the eyes of Joana in here.
Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa
In Uyuni, Bolivia.
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