Into the wild part III. El Valle de las Rocas (Bolivia)

From day 18 to 28, UYUNI.

Between sunny days talking to Antonio Queirós(our newly made friend from Portugal traveling on his motorbike through the American continent) in the main Plaza cafes, cold nights spent in Hotel Avenida where all the water pipes would freeze each night, and walks thru the train cemetery and local market the time flied without notice. We spent 10 days on this cold, simple city of the Altiplano, maybe because our bodies where in need of rest or maybe because the uncertainty of what’s ahead.
Visit Antonio's site here traveling the American continent for an undetermined time and to limitless destinations.

We celebrated the night of Saint John’s with locals and new friends. Which only similarity to the Portuguese Saint John’s night are the bonfires in the streets. It was a fun night with the help of a few shots of "singani" a local alcoholic drink to keep our bodies warm.


Here in the altiplano Saint John’s night warns in the coldest night of the year. Temperatures can reach -30 deg. It was hard to imagine that this city once was the cradle of prosperity and life to a large population of treasure seekers looking for rich minerals, a period well portrayed in the movie "Los Andes no creen em Dios".

Despite human greed this region is still rich in minerals which are now explored by multinational foreigner companies and the population of Uyuni had to look for new wealth: tourism. Dozens of tourism agencies plague the city offering the most diverse adventure packages with walks in the biggest and highest salt plain in the planet or by the red lagoons populated by rare flamingos on the vast and desolated southwest of the Bolivian plateau, a region that we plan to explore next.
It was time to leave; new adventures and difficulties awaited us.

Day 29
From Uyuni to (before) Ramaditas.
48.8km
Maximum Altitude 3695m
Camp Altitude 3680m



Finally we’re "on the road" again!
The road between Uyuni and San Cristobal is in surprisingly good conditions and it’s completely plain and free of traffic. The landscape is very monotonous and uninteresting. We camp in the windy pampas grass where do we had a very cold night with minus15 degrees registered.


Day 30
From (before) Ramaditas até San Cristobal.
48.3km
Maximum Altitude 3821m
Camp Altitude 3790m

This morning was so cold that we couldn’t leave before 11:30. It was another day of monotonous and uninteresting things to see. I began to question if it was worth the effort to endure the cold and probably pushing the bike thru more sandy roads. We arrived at the village of San Cristobal, and decide to not camp and find a hotel. San Cristobal is a village that was transferred from its original place to give rise to a mine of silver and zinc, of which barely all the population subsists. The road upon arriving to the village was in such good conditions that almost appeared to be asphalted, one of the many projects that the Canadian company that explores the mine did for the region.



Day 31
From San Cristobal to Villa Alota.
60.5km
Maximum Altitude 3895m
Camp Altitude 3840m

We had a few salami sandwich and coffee for breakfast in the municipal market and continued on the road. 15 km afterwards we arrive to the village of Kulpina K, one of the four villages in the region chosen and titled by the Canadian mining Company as "authentic pueblos". This company invested in projects of rural tourism with the objective of creating an economic structure for the future when the natural resources for mining runs out 17 years or so from now. This is a form of compensating the local population by the presence of the mine. Without doubt an interesting project and unique in Bolivia, a country with very strong traditions in mining and not always explored the best form. In the colonial times the Bolivian mines were the main sustenance of the Spanish crown at the cost of thousands of lives that worked in it.

Kulpina K

In the small plaza of the village we spoke with a young man who told us a little about the biggest mine of silver and zinc in South America and of the greatest mining project in all of Bolivia for the pass few decades. "When work began the mine employed 6 thousand people, now exist around 1500 workers. The Canadians brought in modern machinery and they don’t need as much hand force" he told us. The heavy machinery turns over 100 thousand tons of earth every day, José works with one of those machines during 16 consecutive days followed by a week of rest.

At the exit of Kulpina K a short but accentuated ascent took us to another desolated valley. We pedal all afternoon against the wind until we arrived to Villa Alota by sunset. It was another day of monotonous landscapes with head winds that did not let us amount a good rhythm, but even so in 3 days we had made 150 km, somewhat unexpected in this part of the altiplano where we were expecting to find the worst roads. The monotonous landscape left much to desire and again I question if it was worth the sacrifice to travel this route recommended by so many other travelers.
Today we decide to alter the route and go up the volcano Uturunco first and follow afterwards to the Laguna Colorada.

Villa Alota

Day 32
From Villa Alota to Valle de las Rocas.
22.7km
Maximum Altitude 4117m
Camp Altitude 4076m

Well, it looks like after 3 days of monotony, the southwest of the Bolivian altiplano began to reveal its beauty. 2.6 km from Vila Alota an old sign worn by the weather announce the road that would take us to Quentena Chico. This is where the road maintenance by the miner company stops and the "nightmare" road begins. After confusing crossroads and rivers, the road begins to go up to a plateau above the 4000m and we found our self’s entering the Valley of the Rocks. We pedaled directly south and the strong northwest wind helped, but the sandy roads made for a slow progress.







We camp in a "forest" of rocks with fantastic formations created by the erosion of the wind that strikes them incessantly. We looked for a place sheltered from the strong wind (which would accompany us for the next few weeks), set-up camp and cooked on an open fire. It was another cold night, registering minus 17 degrees.




Day 33
From Valle de las Rocas to Villa Mar.
31.1km
Maximum Altitude 4083m
Camp Altitude 3998m

Surrounded by this uncommon and fantastic landscape, we had a lazier morning than usual. It was without a doubt one of the nicest places we had ever camped on this journey.




But we weren’t the only ones on these roads. Dozens of jeeps full of backpackers roam the altiplano raising a huge cloud of dust as they pass by and also removing a bit the magic of pedaling thru this area so inhospitable of the planet. We cooked breakfast on bone fire and left camp by lunch time just as the first jeep arrived.


We pedal barely 4 km before approaching a huge rock formation that extends for all the West cost of this valley. We left the bikes and went for few hours hike. The rock formation reminds me of Wadi Rum in Jordan by its similarities.


We arrive in Villa Mar by the end of the afternoon, an Oasis in this vast wild landscape. A small village, with a group of 900 Quechua speakers inhabitants, built from unpainted concrete blocks and crossed by a small frozen river, the village is protected from the winds by a natural wall of rocks, part of the rock formations that we have enjoyed since Villa Alota. We found a place to stay in a small rustic Hotel where a tour group was also lodged which tour guide gave us valuable information for our upcoming route.
arriving in Villa Mar

sunset in Villa Mar


Something that intrigued us in this small Andean community was the origin of its name Villa Mar, village by the sea. We were surrounded by deserts of volcanic rock and sandy pampas at 4000m of altitude and hundreds of kilometers from the sea coast. Originally called Mallku, the name of Vilamar originated from the loss of the Bolivian coastline in the war of the Pacific with Chile and Peru that affected the feelings of the community and they changed the name in honor of the lost sea. That feeling is still present today.

DIA 34
De Villa Mar a algures na pampa
33.8km
Altitude máxima 4129m
Altitude de acampamento 4044m

The nice owner at the hotel sketched in the sand our upcoming route to Quentena, Chico. In her drawings there was a detour and a bridge, but as we soon found out (and we’re already accustomed to) there was a bridge and, several detours! Always follow the road with the most tire tracks, is something we’ve learned in our bike rides thru the Bolivian altiplano, and it has become our number one rule for orientation around here. In the altiplano many roads are not public works but instead roads that were made from the successive tracks of local vehicles, people that know their way. But for us is not always easy and maps are practically useless.

Soon enough we passed the bridge mentioned in her drawings, the landscape became really nice and there are no tours! The road approaches mount Zoniquera with its rocky peak and no snow at an altitude of 6000m. From here on we begin a hilly section of up’s and down’s in sandy and winding roads. We find shelter from the strong winds behind some rocks and setup camp.


After dinner we looked at the maps and for the first time we considered leaving the Bolivian plateau thru the green lagoon and into Chile by San Pedro of Atacama. We had enough of these horrible roads, cold winds and hoping for better food... And Chilean wine! After San Pedro we would follow to Argentina through Paso de Jama, Humahuaca gorge and then return to Bolivia at Villazon. A detour with 600 km more than initially planned, but on asphalted roads!


Day 35
From somewhere in the banks of Lipez Grande river
32.1km
Maximum Altitude 4393m
Camp Altitude 4170m

We had another cold night with the thermometer registering -12 Deg. Besides the disastrous roads it’s the nights what I’m most afraid. A soon as the sun comes down we initiate another journey. The chilled nights in the Bolivian altiplano oblige us to cook inside the tent and take refuge inside our sleeping bags instantly after eating. At night the simple physiological necessities are a true sacrifice. As consolation I have the fantastic views of the night skies and the company of Joana. It would have been very difficult to face the hardness of the Altiplano by myself.


We continue our journey thru this sandy, winding road that with the ascent to a 4393 meters pass becomes a stony road. At the top we found the reward: the first close-up sight of the volcano Uturunco in the horizon.

On the downhill we had to cross a small frozen stream. Another one of dozens of rivers that we had to cross in the few last weeks, bridges are a rarity. Joana went first and in a lapse of imbalance, she barely fell in the water able to hang on to her bike. In a spontaneous reaction, I left my bicycle and tried to help, but I end-up falling and dropping my bicycle in the ground. The fall was such that I scratched my chest, my hands (a finger swelled-up immediately just like ET), and I hit my chin on the rocky ground. What initially looked like just road rashes revealed to be a little more serious… We followed journey and Joana says to me that I have blood dripping from my bear.

We stopped for lunch (just crackers with jelly, we didn’t felt hungry because we spent all morning chewing on coca leaves). Joana disinfected the wound and says that I have a deep cut in my chin up to the bone. It probably needs stitches, but where? The nearest hospital is in Uyuni or Potosi, several days away, or in San Pedro of Atacama in Chile, probably also several days of journey. We continued our trip to Quetena Chico were I would re-think the situation.
The downhill took us to another valley at 4200 meters of altitude. In this narrow valley is "Sol de la Manana", and "Eduardo Avaroa" Natural Park entrance. We were requested to pay 30 Bolivianos each, for park maintenance, they said. The guard at the entrance tells us that there is a doctor in Quentena Chico but Quetena is still 2 hours away. We barely had 1:30h of day light left and the road was getting worst.


Our progress was very slow, we felt weak due to not having a proper lunch. After a hard ascent we arrive to yet another valley and one more river to cross. The sun already had set behind the mountains and it was getting dark. A moments of decision, cross that frozen cold water and continue thru the night, or camp?

We didn’t know the distance that separated us from Quentena Chico and continuing thru the night with our feet freezing could have consequences that could jeopardize our climb to volcano Uturunco. After all, the climb to the highest road in the world was the main reason why were enduring these disastrous roads for days. We decide to camp. Despite all the pain I put my body thru at the end of the day it didn’t hurt maybe due to the coldness, maybe due to the tiredness, perhaps both - I don’t know, but I had a good night in deep sleep.

Day 36
From the banks of Lipez Grande river to Quentena Chico
5.7km
Maximum Altitude 4170m
Camp Altitude 4150m

We knew we had a short day in front of us so we waited for the day to warm up before crossing the river, we stayed late in camp admiring the beauty of the landscape that surrounded us. It was a nice day, full of sun without wind and an absolute silence. At 3:00 in the afternoon when we decided to cross the river and we pedal the remaining 5 km to Quentena Chico.
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Quentena Chico was a huge deception. We expected a town at least of the size of Villa Mar since it is the most important village in the southwest of the plateau, but we encounter ourselves with a small collection of houses sheltered by a mountain with a small and dusty plaza, a school, a military field and a few shops with barely empty shelves.
The only shop that looked to be decently stocked was closed, the owner was in Potosi, and so was the only doctor in town. We got a simple room in the hostel Condor where the pleasant owner informs us that in two days arrives the "flota" that comes from Uyuni and besides carrying passengers it also sells vegetables, fruits and other groceries. The "flota" is the only weekly bus that passes thru the village and the only form that the population has to buy fresh vegetables - the soil of the southwest of the altiplano is not fertile for cultivation. Without food to continue, we don’t have any other alternative but to wait 2 days and hope that the "flota" shows-up.

Joana helps me cut a little off the beard and disinfects the chin again. It will have to stay like that, a souvenir of the altiplano. Traveling thru the Bolivian plateau by bicycle is in fact a marvelous experience, but if things go wrong there is not much where one can look for help. The hostilities of the elements should not be underestimated. But I wasn’t very concerned; the worst it could happen is that I would end up with a scar for the rest of my life as reminder of this adventure. Not that I will easily forget this washboard roads though!

On the next and last blog of this crazy phase of 47 days without seeing tar and pedaling in high altitudes we enter a zone even more inhospitable whose desolation of the landscape resembles planet Mars. Our goal: to take our bike up to 5800m. But will we be able to "conquer" Uturunco with our loaded bikes?

Volcano Uturunco (6020m). Notice the road in the "cone" of the volcano. That road goes up to 5800m and will be the big challenge for the next phase.

INTO THE WILD part II. Cycling the salares of Coipasa and Uyuni (Bolivia)

DAY 9 43.1
km Highest point 3724m
Overnight camp 3644m
From Sabaya to the "island" of Coipasa.

Finally back on the road and without major obstacles. Yesterday we managed to get a good quantity of food and 14 litres of water, that we think is sufficient for the crossing of the first salar.

It was a pleasure to ride on the washboard roads without having to push the “burras” over sand dunes. We went through several abandoned villages on the way to the entrance of the salar, located shortly after the village of Villa Vitalina (km 27). From there we could see the huge salar that we will cross tomorrow.
From the Villa Vitalina’s “Terraplèn" (access Platforms), until the island of Coipasa were 10 easy km, sometimes cycling on the gravel road, other times over the salt surface. We setup camp on the island of Coipasa with fantastic views over the salt flats.



The landscape was surreal; I had never seen anything like that. The salt flats of Uyuni and coipasa are part of an old sea that was trapped when the tectonic plates of the Pacific shocked with the South American continent creating salt lakes. With the subsequent creation of the Andes, the waters evaporated creating the salt flats. Every year the rainy season floods the salt flats creating a lake 30 to 40 cm deep. The strength of solar radiation in the summer months dries almost all the surface of the lake, creating a vast mantle of white so strong that, in a sunny day, it is difficult to observe without the protection of sunglasses.

DAY 10 47.7 km
Highest point 3678m
Overnight camp 3629m
From the “island” of Coipasa to the middle of the Salar.

Today we finally entering the salar, another dimension of cyclo-tourism, an unrivalled experience that is difficult to describe. It was like pedalling on a flat planet where the only colours that existed are the blue of the sky and the white of the earth.

We left the campsite late, as we always do up here in the altiplano, shortly after we stopped by the small village of Coipasa to buy some more supplies and fill the bottles from the village’s well. The entry of the salar is well signposted and one could easily see the car tyres marked on the surface, but few kilometres after the marks disappear and we found ourselves in the middle of the salar without any traces of them. But orientation didn’t look too difficult, since south of us we could see several peaks to which we made an azimuth.




The salt flats are flat indeed but far from been a smooth ride. Many crusts of salt popped up on the surface and made for a rough cycling. It was like a violent massage to the body. About 10 km further we found again the marks of car tires, and followed them once they continued south. Joana loses her jacket somewhere in the route, but we decided to move forward. Our progress south was halted late afternoon by something unexpected: water!

An elder man back in the village of Coipasa had warned us that some areas of the lake were not completely dry and suggested an alternate route further West and closer to the Chilean border. We didn’t take him seriously partly because his suggestion was a much longer route. And here we were surrounded by water on all sides and not knowing what to do. Joana decides to take off her boots prepared to continue. I watched her in disbelieve. Although the mountains are clearly visible ahead of us, it was impossible to estimate the distance we were from mainland or the depth of water. The sun was about to set behind this strange world and the freezing water and high salt content would certainly be felt on our bodies. The risks of hypothermia were high, we wanted adventure, but not to put our lives at risk. Holding the tip of my foot on a salt crust, I balance the bike and look at the scenery around me. It was of a surreal beauty, but beauty, can also mean danger.

- "Joana, we should go back."
- "I think we should continue, she said, we can’t be that far from the mainland."
-"No, we must return to dry salt, is too risky."
I was feeling uncomfortable with the situation. We decided to cycled several kilometres in the opposite direction to get back on dry salt and setup camp under a magical sunset.


We were completely alone. Us and that infinite world of white. That night the thermometer went well below zero and the cold coming from under the salt flat went straight through the tent and sleeping bags freezing our bodies and minds. We questioned ourselves what would have happened if we decided to move forward. Would we have made it?

DAY 11 18.4 km
Highest point 3697
Overnight camp 3647m
From the middle of the salar of coipasa until after Tres Cruces.

I got up shortly after sunrise, and grabbed my camera and binoculars, and went in search of Joana’s jacket. It was bitterly cold but I felt guilty to have persuaded her to leave it behind, and in the obligation to found it. Despite yesterday we cycled almost always at random, it was not difficult to find a dark blue jacket in the middle of that sea of white. When I got back at the base camp Joana had already cooked half a dozen of delicious pancakes.


Our final crossing of the salt lake that I feared so much yesterday was only 5 km and the water was never more than 20 cm or 25 cm depth, but were the most magical five kilometres of all my bike touring experiences. The sky reflected in the waters of the lake, gave the feeling of being cycling over the clouds, at the centre of a three-dimensional painting of Dali.




I felt privileged to be there and be able to share those moments with Joana.
Back on the mainland we were also back at our biggest altiplano nightmare: sand!
We arrive at Tres Cruces after several kilometres of pushing the “burras” through a sandy path. We ask a few people in the village what’s the best way to Llica.
- "Look at this bike," said a local pointing to the only motor vehicle in the village. "Llica it comes from, just follow the tracks of the tires". Taken by the local advice, sometime later we were again pushing our bicycles through sand.



After pushing and dragging our bikes for several hours we setup camp by the side of the road with only 18 km made. But mileages have little importance in the Bolivian altiplano; the conditions of the roads are so bad that sometimes travelling 20 km can be equivalent to a full and exhausting day of cycling.

Day 12 27.9 km
Highest point 3767m
Overnight camp 3753m
From after Tres Cruces to after Challacollo.

Nothing better to start the day than to push the bicycles though the sand! The road was so sandy that we were making an average of 3 km an hour.

It was obvious that we were lost. We could see some tire marks on the sand, but we were not sure that they were from "our" bike. Maybe the biker had made a short-cut through the sand? Perhaps there was a better road.
- "No! Not again! "I did not want to repeat the sand dunes crossing of Sabaya”, I shouted. I had another one of my “altiplanic” attacks of frustration. Far in the distance, near the salt flats we could see a vehicle moving at good speed.
- "There must be a better road," I said to Joana, "this is crazy! This is not cyclo-tourism, is cyclo-masochism!“
Joana shared the same felling, though she didn’t showed it. We did an azimuth from the sand to the salt flats and one hour later we were pedaling on a path that, despite been sandy, was in an acceptable condition. At the end of the afternoon we arrive at the village of Challacollo, lost in the middle of this vast and windy highland desert.




Joana asks to one of the few residents the way to Llica. "In one kilometre there is an intersection, do NOT go the right," said the resident of that semi-abandoned village. We arrived at the intersection and stopped, opened the maps and compass. Nothing made sense. We decided, once more, to follow the local’s advice and finish the day in another sandy path that seemed to go nowhere!


We decided to camp right there and think what to do the following morning. We were exhausted!

DAY 13 13.6 km
Highest point 3754m
Overnight camp 3711m
From (after) Challacallo to Llica

In the early morning a man and his son passed through the camp on their way to his land plot and told us that we're on the wrong track. Back to the junction we follow the road that was more marked with car tires, and promised ourselves that we would do always that from now on. On the altiplano there are so many tracks and no signposts that’s very easy to get lost.
Llica is located between the salares of Coipasa and Uyuni and its the village of utmost importance in the region where there is enough trade to have several well stocked shops, and even an Internet cafe, the first we saw since we left Oruro 13 days ago. Joana was felling sick and without energy, and both were tired of pushing the bicycles through the sand. We needed a rest, so we spent the rest of the day staring over the hotel window.


DAY 14 59.7 km
Highest point 3711m
Overnight camp 3673m
From Llica to Isla Del Pescado.

Soon after leaving Llica one can set sight to the Salar of Uyuni, the largest salt flat on the planet with an area of 10,500 square kilometres, equivalent to twice the Algarve region. It would take us three days to cross it. We cycled for about 10 km skirting the salt flats until we reach a "terraplén", the access platforms built with gravel mixed with salt, which allow for a safe vehicles access. The margins of the salt flats can be sandy and muddy and it is possible that a vehicle sinks in it if you do not use the appropriate entry points, obviously for our bicycles that would not be a problem.


Far on the horizon we could see Isla Del Pescado, the largest island of the salar. We "sailed" through this endless white lake following the car marks left by the vehicles that cross the salar, and by late afternoon we arrive to Isla Del Pescado,the fish island, named after its shape that resembles a fish.

We landed on the East coast of the island and climbed a small hill where we set up camp. Camping on the East corner of the island allowed for a great sunset and also for the first sun light next morning.

The island is a strange place with fossilised rocks and marine animals reminding us of the time that this immense desert of salt was submerged by the ocean, giant centenary cacti stood still on the horizon as sentinels of time. Here time stopped thousands of years ago.


DAY 15 37.6 km
Highest point 3683m
Overnight camp 3671m
From Isla Del Pescado to somewhere in the middle of the Salar Uyuni.

We continue our cycling through this white sea of salt, enjoying the peace and absolute silence around us, broken only by the sound of the wheels crushing the hexagonal shaped salt crusts that pooped up the surface. A curious process created by cracks in the crust of salt and the strong sunlight. Unlike the salar of coipasa, here we could reach 20 km an hour without major physical effort. The world around us was absolutely flat; in fact it is the flattest surface on the planet. So flat that it’s the place of choice for artificial satellites calibration. By mid-afternoon we saw a black dot on the horizon that we thought it was another jeep full of tourists that cross incessantly this part of the salar. But little by little the black dot began to take the form of a bicycle. Herve is a Swiss cyclist who is travelling through South America for several months and was at the end of his trip.We decided to camp right there on the middle of the salar.

Herve (visit its website here), an experienced touring cyclist, left his homeland one day towards Africa and never returned. After two years cycling the African continent, he found work as a safari guide in Namibia where he took residence, a place from where he finances his bike trips that he makes around the world. Undoubtedly an inspiring and interesting story. Who knows a future trip, around Africa on a bicycle? That night I left by mistake Joana’s hot water rubber container (don’t know the proper name in English, but that thing to warm up your feet!), in the front part of her sleeping bag and she smashed it as she enter the tent. The mattress and everything around was soaked in water. It was just what we needed! We were in the middle of this huge salt flat, where temperatures at this time of year can reach minus 25 degrees at night. We had no choice but to sleep the two of us inside my, already small, sleeping bag, a real test to our relationship!

DAY 16 63.4 km
Highest point 3698m
Overnight camp 3678m
From the middle of the Salar to the salt museum in Colchani.

Yesterday was a very cold night. We couldn’t fit inside the sleeping bag and every movement, for small it was, had to be coordinated simultaneously. Herve left heading north, leaving with us a Swiss chocolate - classic! We promise him to eat it only at the top of the Uturunco Vulcan at 6020 meters, where we expect to push our bicycles to its top, further down the journey. The access road to the volcano is considered (by some) as the highest road in the world and would be the culmination of all our challenges during this long stage of 47 days without seeing the tarmac.

The final part of the salar was the least interesting of the crossing. During the day several jeeps full of backpakers passed through on the way to Inkawasi, a small tourist island in the middle of the salar, where we decided not to stop. We arrived in Colchani late afternoon. We just finished doing a total of 240 km cycling on salt.
Colchani, a small dusty village on the East banks of the salar, whose population lives off the extraction of salt and tourism, has a small museum dedicated to salt that offers accommodation in a house entirely made of salt. We were the only guests at the hotel and the owner decides to hand us the keys and go home leaving us alone.



DAY 17 23.3 km
Highest point 3712m
Overnight camp 3705m
From Colchani to Uyuni.

After 23 km of uneventfully washboard roads we arrive in Uyuni, the big twon in this part of the altiplano. Uyuni is an uninteresting touristy town and the gateway to the salares and the south-western part of the Altiplano, used by hordes of backpackers. It’s a cold place and there isn’t much to see or do in town, but somehow we got stuck and ended up spending over a week there.

In the next blog, we enter the third part of our extensive journey in Bolivian’s altiplano entering an area of higher altitude, more isolated and inhospitable landscapes. Our next destination: Cycle the highest road in the world. But another accident with the bicycle, cyclonic winds, and yet again, difficulties in finding water and food would hinder all our travel plans and even change them.


Nuno Brilhante Pedrosa

INTO THE WILD PART I. Sahara´s desert or the Bolivian altiplano? (Bolivia)

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.