Sunset in the high Andes
The amazing Kiwi Jeff risking life and limb for a lark!
Canon (Canyon) del Pata
Tunnel on old road/path in Canon del Pata
Tough old rock formations
This restaurant is literally Piss WaterHuanchaco to Caraz – 205 miles, 65 of which are off road.
We left the depressing Peruvian coast and headed inland. We are on a route that climbs up from sea level to the top of the Peruvian Andes. I hope they are at least half as stunning as the Ecuadorean Andes. I need to forget the misery of the Pacific coast. Today was an easy 135 miles then the road ended at Chuquicara. It became sand/dirt/gravel/rocks from thereon. This road was built to get to the silver mines in these massive rock mountains. The silver has long been mined out but the road is used to truck goods to the little mountain villages that dot the landscape. There were about thirty tunnels along the way. They have no lights and are not maintained. After covering the first 30 miles of bone-jarring riding over the rocks, all the while standing on your pegs, everyone got really fatigued. We couldn’t stop for much rest because we would not get to our accommodations before dark. After fifty miles of terribly difficult and painful riding I started to loose my reflexes and my judgment went bad. I couldn’t pick the best line through the stones, my eyes were being scratched by the road dust behind my contact lenses, my knees ached, and my throttle hand had become numb. I was in bad shape. So was Mac behind me. I entered one long stone tunnel, honking my horn all the way. About 500 yards in I met a large truck coming toward me without lights. He stopped just in time and I stopped. However, I was too tired to think. I couldn’t pull over enough for him to pass. The tunnel is too narrow. I put my stand down, got off my bike and told him to back up. He laughed and said, “No”. I truly didn’t care. I was too fried and not thinking clearly. Just then Jeff, our remarkable Kiwi support guru came running up and said, “Hey mate, turn it around and let the truck pass”. Great idea, but it never occurred to me. I turned around and drove out of the tunnel, then walked down to the river that has been cutting this gorge for millennia. I kipped (napped) for twenty minutes. It helped but not much. We got in at sundown. I went to my room and haven’t had enough energy to go down to dinner. I’ll see if I have enough strength to climb down for breakfast. I think you’d know exactly how I feel if you put on your helmet and armored jacket and then threw yourself headlong down three flights of steep concrete stairs. If you lived, you’d feel like me tonight.
We left the depressing Peruvian coast and headed inland. We are on a route that climbs up from sea level to the top of the Peruvian Andes. I hope they are at least half as stunning as the Ecuadorean Andes. I need to forget the misery of the Pacific coast. Today was an easy 135 miles then the road ended at Chuquicara. It became sand/dirt/gravel/rocks from thereon. This road was built to get to the silver mines in these massive rock mountains. The silver has long been mined out but the road is used to truck goods to the little mountain villages that dot the landscape. There were about thirty tunnels along the way. They have no lights and are not maintained. After covering the first 30 miles of bone-jarring riding over the rocks, all the while standing on your pegs, everyone got really fatigued. We couldn’t stop for much rest because we would not get to our accommodations before dark. After fifty miles of terribly difficult and painful riding I started to loose my reflexes and my judgment went bad. I couldn’t pick the best line through the stones, my eyes were being scratched by the road dust behind my contact lenses, my knees ached, and my throttle hand had become numb. I was in bad shape. So was Mac behind me. I entered one long stone tunnel, honking my horn all the way. About 500 yards in I met a large truck coming toward me without lights. He stopped just in time and I stopped. However, I was too tired to think. I couldn’t pull over enough for him to pass. The tunnel is too narrow. I put my stand down, got off my bike and told him to back up. He laughed and said, “No”. I truly didn’t care. I was too fried and not thinking clearly. Just then Jeff, our remarkable Kiwi support guru came running up and said, “Hey mate, turn it around and let the truck pass”. Great idea, but it never occurred to me. I turned around and drove out of the tunnel, then walked down to the river that has been cutting this gorge for millennia. I kipped (napped) for twenty minutes. It helped but not much. We got in at sundown. I went to my room and haven’t had enough energy to go down to dinner. I’ll see if I have enough strength to climb down for breakfast. I think you’d know exactly how I feel if you put on your helmet and armored jacket and then threw yourself headlong down three flights of steep concrete stairs. If you lived, you’d feel like me tonight.
1 comment:
Sup i am new on here, I stumbled upon this chat board I find It incredibly helpful and it has helped me out loads. I should be able to contribute and assist other users like it has helped me.
Cheers, Catch You Around
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