Upon leaving Ayacucho, in the highlands, I would climb to 4750 meters then descend to the coast in two and half days - covering 190km in a single day. Ayacucho is a wonderful city known for its 33 churches (dating from the 1500's to 1700's) each representing a year of Jesus' life, a fantastic climate of warm sunny days and cool nights, great food, and a large university. I spent a month here is the past for a friend's wedding mountain biking the hills surrounding the city and looking around from the hotel roof made me a little nostalgic - I regretted not spending more time in Ayacucho but my entry stamp is about to expire . . . and I have half a continent to go.
I rode a short half day 25km up and 25 km down to get out of the valley passing familiar trail heads.
I camped in a river valley beside a great looking trout stream but once again caught nothing . . . I am beginning to doubt my abilities - I am used to catching and not just fishing. I could blame it on the spin gear, new rivers, or get a cast net like all the locals . . . but that maybe why there are no fish.
Trout are on the menu everywhere and cheap but they are from the numerous fish farms and not the river, no matter what the signs say. So I ate tuna instead of trout.
The next morning I begin my 50km climb up to the pass at 4750 meters - this is my first big pass on pavement in a long time and it is nice to spin along passing herds of alpaca.
I, also, realize that the entire route from the top of the pass to Ayacucho (100km on road) could be done on single track with a mountain bike. Trees disappear and the road takes long switchbacks up to the pass.
I stop for a lunch break at noon time when I realize that I am not finishing my climb for awhile and pop in a bola of coca.
Within another hour of climbing I know I am nearing the top because I pass a small religious shrine to make offerings for luck - then I top out and put on my windbreaker . . .
However, I am still 250km from the coast and it is very doubtful that I am going to be descending for the entire distance - Peru has some big climbs and drops but . . .
I will spend the next 100 km rolling across the high dry plateau in a series of 10-20 km climbs and descents with few people around but some spectacular geology, and still lots of Alpaca
Late in the afternoon, I pass though Rumichaca and stop food to camp and have a beer while chatting with the woman who owns a little store serving trucks and buses passing between Ayacucho and the coast - everyone, it seems, has relatives working in the United States.
I begin climbing out of Rumichaca with about an hour to find a camp site and begin to doubt the wisdom of my decision as the wind howls, it starts to get cold, and no appetizing camp spots appear. I eventually settle on a small ravine off a corner that offers some protection from the wind and enough room to lay down. I eat and spend the night under a blanket of brilliant stars. In the morning I wake covered in frost and get noticed by some young woman putting alpaca out to graze while I am making hot coffee. They are curious and friendly.
I start my morning in the middle of a climb up to a plateau that is over 4000 meters - too cold for agriculture and very dry.
I have a hard time picturing living here . . . evidently many others feel the same because there are not a lot of people. People who do live here are either herding alpaca and vicuna or serving the passing traffic.
After a few hours of rolling across the plateau I begin my drop in earnest in long switchbacks that tighten as the valley constricts. Quickly, I am at 3700 meters and trees reappear.
Water is flowing again. My anticipated stop of Huayatara appears by 1pm . . . too early to stop. I decide to shoot for the coast, 115k more making for a 200km day.
The wind is fierce channeled up the canyon from the warm pacific coast to the cold highland platueau - vegetation in habitually bent up canyon.
And the landscape goes from dry to arid approaching the coast. I finish up my riding day in the dark rolling into San Clemente at the end of the road - a little over 8 hour ride time and 190km! I check into the first available hotel eat and crash. But I realize I am recovered from my Pozuzo adventure and the knee feels solid.
Upon leaving Ayacucho, in the highlands, I would climb to 4750 meters then descend to the coast in two and half days - covering 190km in a single day. Ayacucho is a wonderful city known for its 33 churches (dating from the 1500's to 1700's) each representing a year of Jesus' life, a fantastic climate of warm sunny days and cool nights, great food, and a large university. I spent a month here is the past for a friend's wedding mountain biking the hills surrounding the city and looking around from the hotel roof made me a little nostalgic - I regretted not spending more time in Ayacucho but my entry stamp is about to expire . . . and I have half a continent to go.
I rode a short half day 25km up and 25 km down to get out of the valley passing familiar trail heads.
I camped in a river valley beside a great looking trout stream but once again caught nothing . . . I am beginning to doubt my abilities - I am used to catching and not just fishing. I could blame it on the spin gear, new rivers, or get a cast net like all the locals . . . but that maybe why there are no fish.
Trout are on the menu everywhere and cheap but they are from the numerous fish farms and not the river, no matter what the signs say. So I ate tuna instead of trout.
The next morning I begin my 50km climb up to the pass at 4750 meters - this is my first big pass on pavement in a long time and it is nice to spin along passing herds of alpaca.
I, also, realize that the entire route from the top of the pass to Ayacucho (100km on road) could be done on single track with a mountain bike. Trees disappear and the road takes long switchbacks up to the pass.
I stop for a lunch break at noon time when I realize that I am not finishing my climb for awhile and pop in a bola of coca.
Within another hour of climbing I know I am nearing the top because I pass a small religious shrine to make offerings for luck - then I top out and put on my windbreaker . . .
However, I am still 250km from the coast and it is very doubtful that I am going to be descending for the entire distance - Peru has some big climbs and drops but . . .
I will spend the next 100 km rolling across the high dry plateau in a series of 10-20 km climbs and descents with few people around but some spectacular geology, and still lots of Alpaca
Late in the afternoon, I pass though Rumichaca and stop food to camp and have a beer while chatting with the woman who owns a little store serving trucks and buses passing between Ayacucho and the coast - everyone, it seems, has relatives working in the United States.
I begin climbing out of Rumichaca with about an hour to find a camp site and begin to doubt the wisdom of my decision as the wind howls, it starts to get cold, and no appetizing camp spots appear. I eventually settle on a small ravine off a corner that offers some protection from the wind and enough room to lay down. I eat and spend the night under a blanket of brilliant stars. In the morning I wake covered in frost and get noticed by some young woman putting alpaca out to graze while I am making hot coffee. They are curious and friendly.
I start my morning in the middle of a climb up to a plateau that is over 4000 meters - too cold for agriculture and very dry.
I have a hard time picturing living here . . . evidently many others feel the same because there are not a lot of people. People who do live here are either herding alpaca and vicuna or serving the passing traffic.
After a few hours of rolling across the plateau I begin my drop in earnest in long switchbacks that tighten as the valley constricts. Quickly, I am at 3700 meters and trees reappear.
Water is flowing again. My anticipated stop of Huayatara appears by 1pm . . . too early to stop. I decide to shoot for the coast, 115k more making for a 200km day.
The wind is fierce channeled up the canyon from the warm pacific coast to the cold highland platueau - vegetation in habitually bent up canyon.
And the landscape goes from dry to arid approaching the coast. I finish up my riding day in the dark rolling into San Clemente at the end of the road - a little over 8 hour ride time and 190km! I check into the first available hotel eat and crash. But I realize I am recovered from my Pozuzo adventure and the knee feels solid.
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