Cuzco to Nazca
21.10.09
Click this link for the related photographs.
It is Sunday October 18, 8am in a high Andes town called Puquio at about 3200m above sea level. We have eaten a huge breakfast of Angel brand Flakes de Maize (corn flakes) cereal, a mango each, a bunch of tiny sugar bananas and shared a can of Durazno (peaches). My stomach was fit to burst but we needed to stoke the fire as we had a big day in front of us.
Our goal over the next two days is to finish our crossing of the Andes to get to the town of Nazca, famous for the crazy lines drawn in the earth by the Nazca people nearly 2000 years ago.
As we roll out of town we are greeted by the town’s people that are awake that early. Some call out "Gringo!" to get our attention - which we usually ignore. Some call out "Bien Viaje" (Good Travels). Some "Buenos Dias" (Good Morning) and some just wave in acknowledgement of our journey. Some find us amusing - mostly the young teenage boys. Some cat call whistle to Anita until they see me come up the road. Some offer a stoney stare but most smile and are clearly welcoming and encouraging. Those are the ones we choose to remember.
As we begin the climb I begin to reflect on Puquio. Last night was Saturday night and from what we saw it is pretty big in Puquio - marching style music bands, street action and plenty of packed Pollo Brasas(roasted chicken) restaurants. We guessed that there were about 15-20 restaurants in Puquio and all bar two served roasted chicken as their main offer. The other two were pizza places - we ate at one (average) and ran from the other when we saw the 'pizza' being served up. Yep, if you are allergic to chicken, think twice before you visit Puquio.
We stayed two nights in Puquio. It is somewhat of an Oasis from the "Puna" here in the Andes. There are some other small villages nearby but really on either side of Puquio there are mostly just high altitude plains, hills and lakes. It is pretty desolate stuff from a human point of view.
We are always excited to arrive into a new town: a hotel bed to sleep in, restaurants to eat in, markets and supermarkets to buy food stuffs from for the onward leg of our journey. Puquio had all these things but it is a pretty unsophisticated sort of place. The hotel hot water tank was electric and seemed to serve about 2 of the 20 rooms. I had finally got a hot shower this morning – the day we left. Hurray! The bed was shaped like a cow’s water trough but it did make snuggling Anita easier. I was craving Chicken and chips when we arrived on Friday night - no problems sourcing a restaurant but then Anita spent Saturday vomiting and convalescing. Just as well we intended to stay and have Saturday as a rest day anyway. Out of all those chicken restaurants we did manage to find one last night (and only one) that had fried rice. Anita was able to pick out the chicken bits. Unsurprisingly she is not so interested in chicken for the next while.
My mind shifts back to the current moment. We are out of town now and have already climbed about 100m. There is hardly a breeze - just strong enough to rustle the leaves on the eucalyptus trees. The hills behind us that we descended from two days ago are hazy. Possibly from the rain and hail we oh so enjoyed missing out on yesterday. The colours are mostly yellow where the land is flat enough to raise sheep or cattle (the Llamas and Alpacas seem to stick mostly to areas higher than 3800m - we assume that farmers get more money from sheep and cattle). The land goes brown where the hills are too steep for grazing. Some places are green where the farmers have planted crops like Alfalfa. There aren't many trees to be seen anywhere. The landscape seems pretty barren. There are massive boulders plonked in place by giants of a time gone by. It reminds me of the landscape as you drive down to the Snowy Mountains from Sydney. Only here everything is much steeper. Indeed this part of the Andes feels much older from the rocks that are exposed.
I can hear something creak on my bike. It is coming from the tent strapped to the rear rack of my bike. But it might be Bob, the trailer. It is weird though as the creak sound only happens when I turn the handle bars.
I look up. Ah. Thank goodness. Anita is stopping to catch her breath. This is our 10th riding day since we left Cuzco. Something happened in Cuzco to Anita. Since this trip began in Chile I have let Anita set the pace but for 10 days now Anita has simply been setting the pace. I find myself gritting my teeth waiting, hoping even sometimes praying for her next stop. I'm still too proud to instigate the rest stop even though I have spent most of the last 10 days lagging behind her.
"Todo bien?" (all good?) I ask. No verbal answer, just a flick of the hand to indicate "so-so". Anita isn't well. Still queasy. She didn't eat much most of yesterday so she missed a much needed recovery for food and replenishment for today's ride. We continue to climb. We are making good progress. By the 25 km mark or so we have climbed over 300m. We start to get excited as we think the pass is about 1200m above Puquio. And then we round the bend and start to drop again. Ah well, we won't be getting to Nazca today.
As we descend we see a cycle tourist! When we greet him I ask if his name is "Hiro". I mean the last two cycle tourists from Japan were named "Hiro" so why not the third. But no Takuya is not a Hiro, but he is still a hero. Riding from Utah in a year is nothing to sneeze at. We chat for a little while, trade email contact details like baseball cards and give him some details of the route to Cuzco.
We mention to him that we met Hiro near Abancay and another one in Cuzco. We give him a flier for Esterilleta the 'cyclist' Hostal in Cuzco. He tells us he rode with (Abancay) Hiro for 4 months.
As we say our goodbyes I begin to reflect on our journey to Puquio. Holy Dooley. What a crazy 9 days of riding. We climbed a few hundred metres to get out of Cuzco. Our legs rusty and the heat and the smells and the fumes made it hard going but by the end of the day we had climbed over 700m and then begun half of our descent to the Rio Apurimac stopping in the Limatambo Country Club for the night.
It was a great place to camp with a table to cook and eat at. Warm, safe and a toilet. Perfection. The Country Club has certainly seen better days but then maybe Cock fighting isn't so popular anymore. There was a big enclosure that looked like an empty swimming pool. On its side was a painting of a “Gallo” or rooster. Across the road there was another club for Gallo fights.
We descended from Limatambo the next day. An hour to go 25km and reach the Rio Apurimac. It was excellent to see this river again but just as on our trek further downstream the midgees were horrific so we didn't hang around long and began our climb back up from a low of about 1900m to the pass the NEXT day at 4000m.
It was during these two days of climbing (total of 2385m) that Anita unveiled her new pistons. She climbed with gusto and although I had caught a cold (excuses I know and undoubtedly thanks to the Andrographis and Cold FX) I managed to keep her within site most of the time.
It was an incredible two days. We met (Abancay) Hiro on the first day of climbing from the Rio Apurimac a few hours before arriving at Curahuasi. Hiro really was a hero – one of the many south bound cyclists we have met riding the mythical central Andes from La Oroya - Huancayo - Ayacucho - Andahuaylas - Abancay and Cuzco. Ayacucho was the heartland of the Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) led by Guzman a philosophy lecturer at the university before he went underground (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shining_Path). It was also the site of a critical battle in the rebellion against the Spanish. It was a no-go route throughout the 80’s and 90’s due to the Shining Path. It was now a no-go route for us due to too much dirt road, midgees and climbing for us to be sufficiently motivated to travel that route.
We arrived at the pass at 4pm on the second day and managed to get down to Abancay 1600m lower before dark. I was totally smashed and energy depleted but half a chicken and chips (a recurring staple food for the Andes Peruvians) revived me sufficiently to watch Peru lose to Argentina in the world cup qualifier. It was a miserable loss for Peru. They tied Argentina in the pouring rain in about the 87th minute only to have Argentina score again in the 88th minute. You could see the tears pouring like the rain on the TV in Buenas Airies from the hearts of the Peruvians.
I come back to the current descent. We have lost nearly all our 300m now as we roll through the tiny town of Lucanas. We keep dropping and cross a river in a side valley. We didn’t get water in Lucanas so we stop at a dodgy looking creek and refill our big 7L bottle. I pump filter the water into our bike bottles and then I add a purification tablet into each for a double back up. It is warm down here – we are close to 3000m and below Puquio. We definitely won’t be getting to Nazca tonight. Ah well, we just need to climb high enough to find a relatively flat spot to camp. I start thinking about Abancay again...
We slept that night in Abancay in a hotel with crisp white sheets wrapped around a new firm mattress and a hot water shower. Spoiled at 45 Soles ($18AUD). We didn't want to leave and probably shouldn't have but we were still bubbling from our last three successful days of riding.
And it was only a half day anyway: 35km. And 15km of it was descending to the Rio Pachachaca below Abancay. We were back at about 2000m. Welcome to crossing the Andes to the ocean from Cuzco. Up and down like a yo-yo but much harder to climb than flicking the wrist and doing “Around the World”.
We spent 4 days riding up the Rio Pachachaca; what a brilliant 4 days/3 nights. Excellent camp spots next to the river with a wash each night. It was very hot the middle two days so had to spend basically between 11am and 1pm in the shade next to the river. We were constantly soaking our jerseys to keep cool in the hot wind.
The climbing is starting to take its toll today on Anita. The lack of food is clearly drawing on her. I, on the other hand, am climbing easily today. I feel almost guilty. My legs have recovered pretty well. I actually feel better than I have since leaving Cuzco on this section. I have stopped asking Anita if she is “Todo Bien”. I thought I was amusing but clearly I am just irritating. The wind has picked up. Half the switch backs are facing the wind, the other half have the wind at our backs. We strain our legs, looking up the hill for that wonderful sign of reprieve – the U turn sign that indicates a tail wind coming. This is starting to feel like our ride up and out of the valley Rio Pachachaca...
On our last day on the Rio Pachachaca and our 7th day of riding we began the climb up into the Puna. The Puna is basically anything higher than 3800m and up to 4500m that is semi inhabitable by humans.
And climb we did. On day 7 we started with a 2% grade (100m/5km) for 10km. This shifted to 4% for the next 10km and finished with greater than 6% for the last 5km. We were smashed from climbing 1385m for the day (our new record) as we rolled and walked over the 4300m pass. We descended a few hundred metres over another 15km to find a camp of sorts near the road. It was somewhat hidden from the road and it was on a tiny beach next to a creek - not that we were going swimming - it isn't all that warm above 4000m. It did freeze over night. Besides 20 metres downstream from our camp where hundreds of Llama legs/carcasses dumped in the river.....eeewwww....
By day 8 we were feeling pretty tired. There isn't much recovery for the body at this altitude. We only managed another 40 odd km with another 760m climbing day. The Puna is not altiplano. It is high but not flat - but neither is Bolivia's altiplano really. The Puna had big valleys with big views and a big pass that was nearly 4600m.
The highlight up there was the Vicuna's - a wild camelid that seems like a cross between a llama and a deer. Graceful, fast, timid, adorable. We also saw a raccoon like creature but he/she was even more timid than the Vicuna.
But back here climbing away from Puquio there are no more Vicunas to amuse us. There are a couple of small towns that are nothing to speak of. They certainly held no appeal for stopping for lunch. We carry on, higher and higher until we came to the end of a tail wind switch back. It was time for lunch and some top of the line Tuna on Andes “Pan” or bread. Andes Pan is bread but it is strange bread – small like a bread roll but often so thin you can’t actually split the roll. We have taken to using two pan “rolls” to make a sandwich. Necessity is the mother of invention. Those Tuna sandwiches were pretty darn tasty though I wouldn't be bothered with them back in Sydney. As we ate we watched a Mother and Daughter come from nowhere with two mules and a resistant sheep. We suspect that the sheep knew its demise was around the corner. Life is hard as a mule but it looks to be longer than a sheep, cow, llama or alpaca! It was time to roll onwards and upwards. We needed to find a flat spot to camp for the night and the only flat-ish spots around here were the road...
On the night of “Day 8” we camped in a boulder field away from the road. In the early hours of the morning we both had to get up. The new moon was rising and the Milky Way was nearly as clear as that glorious night in the Puna in Argentina so many months ago. As we tried to get more sleep before sunrise, the Vicuna’s began their sing song. They seem to have a variety of calls that they use to communicate with each other. It was brilliant to hear them just outside of our tent. You wonder how clever they are. Llamas and Alpacas don't strike one as being clever but Vicuna's are something special. Maybe there are Vicuna song tapes like the whale song tapes intertwined with the Peruvian pan pipes. There has to be a market for the music somewhere in California. Maybe Simon and Garfunkel will get back together with their stolen version of huayno El Condor Pasa (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_C%C3%B3ndor_Pasa_(song)) and mix a new song Bridge over the Troubled Pampas with the Vicunas.
We woke from our sleepless night at 4500m in the boulder field filled with trepidation: 90km to Poquio. Although we had about 1200m to drop to Puquio we had no idea what lay between the final drop and our camp. Another rather pathetic "day 8" would leave us out on the Puna for another night. With just scraps of food and water left it wasn’t a very entertaining option.
The Puna is nice to visit but in my opinion it is no place to live unless you are a Vicuna. The people and towns we saw along the way confirmed my opinion. The people all seem to have a fairly listless way about them. The houses seem ramshackle. There is a different way the people look at us as we ride through - not as encouraging. We had many questions about how much our bikes cost and this seems a strong indicator of jealousy in this environment. Anita and I do look expensive I'm sure. In one town near our “Day 8” camp the people just stared at us. No smiles, no welcome, no encouragement. Needless to say, we didn't stay long.
In the end though, we made the distance to Puquio. The ride was fairly flat, the climbs and descents gentle and the last 40km to Puquio glorious. We hardly needed to use our brakes due to the gradient and the head wind. We coasted, we rolled, we leaned, and we indulged.
Indeed we were having so much fun we nearly rolled past Damien. 60 years old. French. Gregarious beyond belief. Riding an old steel Giant rigid mtb with front and rear racks but his rear pannier was just one of those Samsonite roller suitcases strapped on with a bungy cord. He has been in South America for two years. He supports himself by doing journalistic work for a mag in France and by teaching at different Universities. He said he travels with out a map. He reckons he rode from Nasca to Puquio in one day. Nasca to the pass is about 3500m of climbing. He called us his brother and sister as cycle tourists. I was honoured by his generosity but I don't think we deserve such an honour. He was poking fun at the Germans and their need for detailed maps of distances and heights: I couldn’t help but laugh then at myself for the same reason. This fellow is legendary. After a good 20 minutes of chatting - a life time for cycle tourists going in opposite directions we said goodbye but I do hope we meet this fellow again - he will live well past 100 at the rate he is going.
And as I drift back to the present I realise we are nearly finished our day. We have climbed another 1155m on day 10 from Cuzco. Anita is smashed - already asleep beside me. But what a great spot we are camping at. It is a “Peaje” or Toll station for the Highway and there is a restaurant nearby called Ccollpapampa Restaurant. At Ccollpapampa there is free camping and a cheap, fresh (ish?) food restaurant nearby. All the truckers are stopping there so we reckon there is good turn over and it is safe to eat. Our meal of choice is Caldo de Cordero which is lamb soup/stew and Arroz de la Cubana which is rice with two fried eggs and a fried banana. We even get a discount as I took our pots over to the restaurant so we could have the meal as takeaway in the tent. 14 Soles ($5.5AUD) for dinner and three soft drinks. Life doesn’t get much better when you are on the road. Anita’s belly is happy, her smile is returning. Despite the rumbling of engine brakes from big semi trailer trucks descending nearby we sleep the sleep of the contented (exhausted and well fed).
We think we have just 600m more to climb with a look at the Vicuna national park before descending some 80km and 3500m down to Nasca and the Pacific coast.
I awake the next morning on Monday October 19. It is 530am. It wasn’t too cold overnight. I have an excellent chance of getting Anita out of her cocoon early today. I gently wake her, give her a cuddle which is difficult as she is wrapped in her mummy sleeping bag. She knows an early start means Nazca and a bed and shower tonight. We eat some more Maize de Flakes and we are on the road by 715am or so. We are getting better at these early starts but they have everything to do with the temperature.
The climb to the pass turns out to be less difficult than expected. Today the map is again incorrect for the height of the pass but today it is in our favour by nearly 200m. Instead of 4390m my estimate is about 4100m. Perfection. We begin some descending onto the Pampa and we are greeted by a sign saying welcome to Pampas Galeras – a national reserve for the Vicuna. Sooo many Vicunas but somehow they are not as exciting to see as on the previous days. They are more tame here, less timid, less wild. Still, they are much easier to photograph so I don’t complain.
At the 84km marker to Nazca we begin the real descent. We are now down to about 3800m and the landscape gets even more desolate. We say goodbye to the Vicuna reserve and on the other side of the imaginary border there is a herd of wild donkeys that Anita says look like wild zebras without the stripes. They look fantastic as a mother and child break free from the herd and race at some 25km/h in parallel with us for about 1km until they realise that if they stop, we will keep going.
It takes us some 4.5 elapsed hours to get from the 84km marker down into Nazca. We pass Cerro Blanco on the way – a 2000m plus peak that is entirely of sand – travelling from its high Andes side looking down on it to the west side and then changing views and looking from the Nazca side looking up at it. The air warms, dries, and welcomes us. The road disintegtrates as we descend giving us some interest and focus on the way. The pot holes are as sinister as land mines and we dare not hit one for fear of exploding one of our wheels.
As promised, when we land into Nazca we check into a mid range and fairly flashy hotel. At $55AUD / night it is smashing our budget but the beds are firm, and luxurious. The sheets are crisp and white. The buffet breakfast is promised to be (nearly) all you can eat and the pool is blue, clean and inviting. Three nights and two days here should be sufficient to get us re-energised to fly onto Lima where we are very excited about staying with Duncan and Maemi.
11 days from Cuzco to Nazca.
~ 687km of riding.
~ 8175 Metres of climbing
Or 1189m of ascending / 100km
11,115 Metres of descending (which makes sense with Cuzco at 3400m above sea level)
The Andes here in Peru are not for the faint of heart.
We have cursed them more than once, we will remember them forever and I suspect that we will be busting to get back amongst them straight after Lima.
Stuart and Anita.
PS From what I can gauge from some documents given to me by Max Peer (south bounder via the Central Andes), The Central Andes route would have had a total of more than 13000m of climbing over 844km or 1607m/100km to La Oroya.
Posted byStuart Kane at 8:15 PM
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