I woke early, 5:30am, in Balsas after a hot stuffy night and read Anna Karenina for an hour drinking cold instant coffee while the town awoke. Roosters crowed, wood smoke of cooking fires wafted in, dogs gave lazy barks, engines started and donkeys brayed marshaled for a days work. We wasted little time getting ready and started climbing from the Rio Maranon at 800 meters. Thankfully the morning was overcast though still warm. Each rise we crested opened up into a higher valley with another set of switch backs for the 45 kilometer ascent of over 2000 meters. Traffic was light but dusty as the road continually climbed. 
The afternoon was clear enough to give a view across the high sierra to the Rio Maranon 1000's of meters below.
When we topped out you may notice I have no bags on my bike! For past two days were leapfrogging birders on a bus and on the second day we stopped to chat . . . actually Dylan did, I was head down plowing forward, and what a fortunate stop. I learned that I saw a Vermilion Flycatcher, yes, that was a giant Grosbeak, and tiny Andean Woodpecker. Some of the birders were Cornell grads that were familiar with Binghamton, and the Chilean guide offered to take our bags to Celedin for us . . . It felt great to ride the final 15km with out bags, all of a sudden the climb was really enjoyable! 
After a short 10km descent we landed in Celedin for a couple days to rest, eat lots, give Matt a chance to catch up, and repair bikes/gear. 
The top rail on my rear rack, that the bags hook onto, snapped on one side directly in front of the weld. I had some stiff blue plastic tubing that I wrapped triple and secured with hose clamps purchased from the funeral supplies/hardware store down the block . . . should be good for a few more thousand miles - I hope.
We headed out of Celedin late morning towards Cajamarca where we would hit pavement after 250+ km of dirt roads. The climb was a gentle 50km through high sierra diary country at over 3000 meters in elevation. 
After a rolling top out we had a blazing 20+km descent to the small town of Encanada (slightly dust obscured) and achieved a kind of instant celebrity status. We were directed to the town's single hospedeja with rooms for 15 soles ($5) for the two of us . . . I am pretty sure we could have 
gotten the room for 10 soles but Dylan asked, "is that each?" . . . oops. I saw her gears spin. She said, "yes, but I'll give it to you for 15." Woman was quick - so we got ripped $1.50 . . . I get used to thinking in local currency. We could not find a restaurant so we bought some chicken and fries on the street for 2 soles (3soles = $1) and cooked in our room later. But we did find a bar. The road workers we passed in the day sat with their helmets still on in a small adobe room with dirt floors drinking Cusquenas for 4 soles (Peru's best). At our feet was a truck tire inner tube with a spout of sorts. The woman running the bar kept filling a 5 gallon bucket from the inner tube then filling various sized plastic bottles that people brought - I asked - it was cana, cane liquor, 1 sole for one liter. Wow! At that price you can't go wrong unless you go blind of course . . . out came the handy platypus bottle.We rolled out past our hospedeja in the late morning for a short ride into the regional capitol, Cajamarca, site of Inca Royal bathes, ransoming of the Incan King Atahualpa, and his garroting by Pizarro.
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