Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Chile Finalmente

It's been a long time that I've thought about arriving in Chile.  It's one of those countries that stood out to me as a place I'd really like to get to know.  It was always one of those places, so far away, seemed so unreachable... but now I'm finally here.

When I was saying before how from Cusco on, it should be easier, I knew the key part was the eas-IER.  Of course, Peru and the elements had something else in mind.  I should never use the E-word to describe any portion of this trip.  I made good progress fast for a bit, but certainly not the whole way, especially from Puno on.  I never would have thought it would have been so difficult just to leave the mountains.  One would think, 'ah yeah, flat up top, maybe a few hills, then just an easy long paved downhill'.  Nothing is ever as simple as it seems.

All in all I ended up staying in Cusco a week, trying to get rid of the residual sickness.  I started taking some pills I got at the pharmacy for parasites too, just in case and after a few days on the road, I felt so much better.  Before leaving, I realized I was missing my headlamp.  This is a crucial piece of equipment, necessary!  The morning I left, I actually found not only a camp shop in downtown, but one that had a selection of cheap headlamps.  Wow I was glad I realized this before I left.

My first night out of Cusco, I found this great camp spot on this cliff over looking a river.  I had this flat spot nestled in some young saplings, real quiet and far from the highway.  It was nice and cool and of course I was loving it, comfy in my warm clothes.  After cooking up a solid meal, and feeling very satiated, I turned off my head lamp, and sat in the dark listening the the river below and looking up at the stars.  Letting my mind wander, enjoying the quiet, dark, silence, like I do almost nightly (except for later when it got dark, it was a sort of race to cook dinner and get in the tent as the temperature dropped fast and my feet and hands would start to get numb).  I do some of my best thinking around this time, and it gives me a chance to kind of survey the area and make sure things seem calm before going to bed.

Well, after getting up and standing next to my tent to enjoy the view above the river (with my headlamp still off).  Suddenly there was someone with a flashlight about 30 meters away, among the trees, along the cliff and the same area where I was at.  The light flashed my way for a few moments.  I hesitated, waiting to see what was up or what he/she was going to do.  I didn't hear anything, and the adrenaline started flowing, so I turned on my bright headlamp with fresh batteries, and flashed it in their direction.  After nearly tripping over some stuff I had on the ground, I walked over to where the light, had no been.  They had turned off their light.

When I arrived at where I think they were at, I tried to call out calmly a friendly, "holaaaa...".  But I heard nothing in response, no light or anything.

Now I was spooked.

I clenched my fists feeling like I might be attacked or something with this strange behavior.  You would think the person would simply greet me, and move on.  I turned off my lamp and stood there in the dark.  Trying to figure out where the person went.  As my night vision started to adjust again, I could make out the trees, grass, rocks, bushes, but could see no one.  They just vanished.

So now I was really paranoid (I am lots of times, because I have to be, traveling solo).  I walked back to camp in the dark and stood there again, trying to figure out what just happened.  I started envisioning scenarios of the person coming back with their friends to rob me.  Perhaps it was just a curious local farmer or kid, that saw me cooking dinner with my headlamp and came to see what was going on.  Needless to say I didn't go to sleep for quite a while, woke up many times in the night listening to any noises.  By morning, everything was fine and it didn't seem like I was missing anything.  This was the first time I had something like that happen, hopefully the last.

After getting over a pass after a couple days from Cusco, I was cruising at (or ABOVE) 4,000 meters, until leaving the mountains.  At that altitude, every night was cold, and I was waking up daily to frost on the tent and ice in my water bottles.  A BIG fortunately I have to admit and be thankful for, is that everyday was sunny.  So although the nights were cold, and I was shriveled up in my sleeping bag, in my tent, with multiple sweaters, pant thermals, wool socks, etc (I would rather have this than the heat, although I have to admit it was a bit too cold up there), after the sun came out, the temperature would steadily rise.  I can't imagine having ridden through there if it was raining, it would have been down right dangerous for hypothermia.  It's funny because there were a few times I had to camp somewhat near people's homes, and they would come by, or I would see them looking for a spot, and they were hesitant to permit me to camp.  Explaining to me how it gets real cold, as if I didn't know.  As if I just arrived on a bus, as if I hadn't already biked and camped all across North and South America.  Anyway it was cute though, seeing them concerned.

After the pass, it was real flat riding, with only small mole hills to get over.  Although I had some headwinds, I got to Puno and Lake Titicaca in no time, in just a few days.  I debated staying and taking a day off or not, mainly with my lack of funds, but figured I had to, to go see the man made islands I had heard about.  I had a nice relaxing time in Puno walking around town, and taking a boat out to the islands.  I didn't bother about asking about the roads to get to Tacna, I had already spoken to so many people, and honestly I just didn't even think of it.

Leaving Puno, I was hit hard mentally with just a nasty feeling.  I felt just miserable.  Kind of feeling, deep in my gut, just feeling sad.  You see, this is always the tough part about taking days off.  It's good for me physically, but mentally it's always tough the first day out of town, adjusting to the hard life on the road again.  Taking days off breaks my rhythm,  my motivation, and leaving Puno was an usually real low time for me.  In a way I guess it's good what happened, because it really kicked the down feeling I was having.

After ~60km, I got to the town of Ilave, and the turn off for Tacna.  It was dirt.  I didn't even see that coming, or think of it that day.  I started talking to people and one guy started saying I had to bike ALL the way back to Puno, and go down the other way to Moquegua.  After conversing with quite a few people, it sounded like general consensus was that the dirt road was going to be no more than 100km, and it sure beat the other option of having to backtrack so much.  So down it I went, back to the slow pace of 10km/h, on flat ground, bumping along the rocks, with microbuses racing past kicking up clouds of dust I had to breathe.

I got through it of course, it took a couple days, and turned out to be something like 85km.  There were some real nice scenic parts at least, and I had one really nice quiet camp spot next to a creek the night before getting back onto the pavement.

From there, the road was supposed to be paved until Tacna.  It's not.  SO many times in Latin America, I've been told so many things by people.  I realized a long time ago, that all the time people say anything even when they don't know or aren't sure.  It drives me crazy.  This time was no different.  After riding through the small town, back on pavement, on the other side there was a junction, the one to the left to Tacna, dirt again.  The one to the right was to Moquegua, and pavement.  Again, talking to people extensively, it sounded like I had to detour to Moquegua in order to stay on paved roads.  So that's what I did. (I should have gone direct from Puno, following the route to Moquegua).  One thing I've definitely learned on this trip, is that just because you look at a map, and see a road that looks the same as the rest, it doesn't signify it's paved.

Thing is, I didn't check the hill profile for that route, and only after 10-20km, I arrived at a hill that took me a couple hours to get up and took me to an altitude of ~4,500m.  Up top, on the plateau, it was flat, and now going West, I had a headwind again, WTF?  Just like everyday these days, late in the afternoon, the wind hits hard, and slows my pace to an AGONIZINGLY crawl.  I knew at this altitude, it was going to be even colder than what I've been seeing at 4,000m and I really had to find somewhere good to hide from the wind.  That's when I came across the berms next to the road and a few houses, and the kind guys that greeted me and offered me a room free for the night.  Sure glad they gave it to me, it was definitely a cold night.

Early the next day I was back on the road, racing, trying to beat the wind before it started, and managed to get it ~30km before the wind kicked up and I got to the base of another hill.  Kidding me?  This one was steep, and took me up to 4,800.  That's higher than the original pass I did to arrive in the mountains in Peru.  I've noticed that at 4,000m and above, I start to really feel the altitude.  It's just a lack of breath that I feel, it's that I actually start to feel the lack of oxygen and feel more tired.  At the top of this one, it was starting to snow, and I didn't linger.

I knew I was close to finally dropping out of the mountains, and for the next 30 - 40km, it was the biggest tease.  Up and down hills, rounding a corner for a while, and seeing how the mountains descended, but never actually being able to drop down.  Each time coming around a corner, and seeing the round wind around more, up hills and stuff.  At this point, I was really down to the last of my food.  I hadn't seen any store since the day before (glad I had enough water).  As with a few times recently, I had to resort to my emergency calorie stash - eating instant oatmeal dry.

FINALLY I got to the edge of hill.  I was ecstatic.  At nearly 5,000 meters, I knew I was going to have a LONG downhill and get down to some warmer weather (at this point I was looking forward to it).  It turned out to be ~54km of solid downhill, not a single pedal stroke, until I got to the next town.  At the tienda I loaded up on all the local made bread and snacks, eating a ton after nearly running out of food.  I was feeling a bit delirious after having gone all day with next to nothing for fuel, and did the whole hill continuously.

It was crazy because now at such a lower altitude, I really noticed the change in the atmosphere.  In other words, after eating some food, back riding, I really noticed the excess in Oxygen, and felt so much more energetic.

After reaching and passing Macquegua, I was back around sea level with more hills to get to the coast.  It turned out to be ~54km of pure downhill, and actually was about 95km of downhill, that doesn't include about a 5km stretch of some up hill with flats, but does include a long gradual downhill stretch after Macquegua.

After that, and some big hills, I was back onto the coast, the open sandy flats, and back into the wind.  Going West high in the mountains, trying to get lower, I had headwinds.  Now going East along the coast, I had headwinds.  Ridiculous.  Each direction I go I've been getting bad winds.  Just like before, later in the day, everyday, the winds hammered me and slowed my pace to an excruciatingly slow crawl (on flat low ground now, should be flying!).

It's pretty amazing to think of everything I had to deal with, just trying to leave the mountains: nearly a 100km of dirt and rocks, getting on pavement to have another 1000m to ascend.  Arriving on the high altitude plateau, headwinds until another pass to go up, that was snowing, then having up and down hills for a long stretch, until finally getting to the downhill and out of the mountains.

In Tacna I splurged.  I had some left over soles, and like always for a long time now, it's so much better to treat myself with my remaining money, instead of paying the scum bag money changers.  I had empanandas, lunch, and rode on thoroughly satisfied.

Camping close to the border, I crossed early in the morning.  Between Tacna and the border there's nothing but desert, and when the buildings at the border came through, I was so excited.  I don't remember ever being so excited crossing a border, I was hooting and hollering all the way up to the flags and the buildings.  The very moment I weaving the Chilean customs (crazy there, first time I ever had to take off my panniers and put them through X-ray machines), I was approached by a couple guys who said they were from a local newspaper, and started firing away the questions, and the pictures.  It was quick, and I was on my way again, in Chile.

It was a short easy ride, and in no time I got to Arica.  Again, I saw the journalists, who pulled over in their car, taking more photos, and asked if I'd like to come by the office in downtown.  So I did.  I sat down with another journalist and covered more in detail my trip.  One of the guys mentioned I should stay in town, that there's some cheap hostels.  I hadn't planned on it, and it still hadn't occurred to me, that I had to, if I wanted to get a copy of the newspaper with my article that would be published the following morning.  So I did, and enjoyed a shower that I hadn't had since Puno, as well as wifi, a bed... you know the usual.

Getting a paper the next day (I was kicking myself the rest of the day for not getting more copies).  I left town.  From there it was 5 days to get to Iquique.  Included a few big hills, and on the open flats near Huara, again the F'ing wind stamped out my morale and motivation, each day.  The night before getting to to Iquique, I woke around 1am to some noise outside my tent.  Heart pounding, I jumped out of my tent ready to fight somebody, or something.  It was a dog, and had gotten into one of my panniers that I left out lazily before going to bed.

It ate all my bread I had, and most of my oatmeal.  After stocking up on a few things in Huara, everyone said there's nothing until Iquique.  Now, here I was, with still ~45km to go to town, and virtually nothing to eat, even for breakfast.  After sleeping more, I was up before the sunrise, trying to beat the wind (which was howling, and gusting even through the night still).  Normally, if a rat, a dog, any animal gets into my food, I just chuck it.  I looked at the torn package of oatmeal, and the remaining amount, and knew I had to eat it to get to town.

Fortunately the ride to town was fairly easy, with some rolling hills (cold morning).  I reached the cliffs and the overlook over Iquique, and flew down the hill, yelling, excited to have arrived.

I've been staying with Hans and Taylor, a couple of really kind, warm people.  Taylor's a fellow yank, from Chicago, living down here with her Chilean boyfriend Hans. Together they've got a comfy house, and even gave me a bed.  I've been here a few days, seeing the town with them, and have been getting lots done.  I washed everything even my panniers, and for the first time on the ENTIRE trip, I washed and scrubbed my bike.  I mean I even took apart each brake, scrubbed and cleaned with gas, regreased/lubed.  After thoroughly cleaning everything, and a new chain on the steed, she rides like new.  Now I'm kind of excited to go ride again.  It's been really nice staying here, getting a lot done, and taking some extra time to relax.  They haven't pressured me at all, and have made me feel at home.

Some Thoughts While Riding:

Suffering builds character.

Throughout Latin America, it really annoys me how lots of people will just start to talk over me while I'm speaking.  It's happened so many times.  They think they know what I'm going to say, and don't let me finish.  Just cutting me off (like they do driving).  Also, lots of times they will answer yes, when I haven't finished.  Then I'll ask them again the same, and they'll change their answer.

It's funny in a way how lots of people said how nice the mountains of Peru were, how much better than the coast it is.  This was NOT AT ALL the case for me.  The wind was terrible on the coast, but there were lots of desolate stretches and some good camp spots.  In the mountains of Peru, NEVER have I been SO annoyed by the people.  Screaming out "GRINGO!", "MEEEEE-STER!", and all the random jibberish they think is English.  People pointing at me and laughing.  It was real unpleasant as far as the people basically after Huancayo or Ayacucho, basically until Tacna.  I mean, when people smile and yell "hola!", or wave or give me a thumbs up.  There are obviously so many ways that don't have a slight offensive feel to them.  Even just screaming "bienvenidos!" would be nice.  I'm always enthusiastic to respond cordially when someone says "hola amigo!" or something that obviously has a nicer tone.  It seems like a lot of the people have tourette's syndrome almost, they just can't resist screaming out "GRINGO!" when they see me.

It's interesting doing what I'm doing that I get to see a lot of sides of towns lots of travelers never see.  For instance, lots of times I'm going to hardware stores (ferreterias) and bike shops (talleres), and they're usually away from downtown.

I think people would probably be surprised how much planning is involved with a bike trip like this.  I mean it's not like there's that much, but it's not as simple as just jumping on the bike and going.  Great example is when I nearly ran out of water the other day, with no one and nothing around.

I think about bad decisions too much riding.  It plagues me.  I hate making bad decisions and I will kick myself mentally too much.  It's tough, sometimes I just can't think about anything else, except for something stupid I did, that really doesn't matter anyway.

Lots of cyclists hitch rides where it's tough.  They say they've done "X" amount of kilometers.  In reality, those are the easy ones.  When I say I've done "X" amount, I've done every one, including all the hard ones.

Iquique (and perhaps Chile in general, don't know yet) is so different than all the the Latin American countries I've seen.  Drivers stopping for pedestrians or cyclists.  Just crazy stuff.  Seeing a Ferrari, high bore motorcycles...  They have a huge skatepark next to the beach, then a dirt jump park for bikes next to that, then some small enclosures with animals next to that, alpacas, crocodiles.

Although they still honk, it's refreshing that the drivers honk less here.  It's definitely noticeable that in the cities, Chilenos honk less compared to Peruanos. 

I don't know who said Chilean drivers are better, it's not true, they're still the same dumb animals, although they DO honk a BIT less.  However.  I've gotta say, Iquique is a really strange place.  I can't say much about Arica because I didn't see much.  In Iquique, for the FIRST TIME I HAVE EVER SEEN IN LATIN AMERICA, cars will actually stop at crosswalks and let pedestrians and cyclists pass.  I mean I've been jaw dropped walking around town and observing this.  It just doesn't make sense to me.  Especially after just leaving Peru, which (if possible) is probably one of the worst countries I've seen with noise and disregard for another person's safety.

Since the norhern coast of Peru, as a treat for one night camping between rest towns, I watch a movie in my tent on my computer until my battery dies.  It's great, it's really nice when I'm camping out somewhere well hidden and I know that no one is very unlikely to stumble upon my camp (especially here in South America with lots more open stretches without anybody).  One night watching "The Truman Show", I could completely relate to how he felt with everyone following him.  He kept seeing people staring at him and watching.

I have never been so annoyed by people until the mountains of Peru.  Never have I had so many screaming "GRINGO!" so many times, sometimes for a whole day.  They yell stupid shit that they think is... funny?  It's far from funny and just down right offensive, yelling jibberish they think is English.  Yelling "MIIIIIIIIISTER!".  I need to remind you though, that they aren't yelling these things, they're screaming them.  It is so insanely annoying.

Another problem I was having in the mountains in Peru, is people understanding me.  I mean it's always a problem, but it was just ridiculous so many times.  Stopping at a tienda and asking for ajo (garlic), and having to repeat myself 3 - 4 times, maybe more.  I mean how many ways are there to say ajo (pronounced a - ho)?

I really can't stand the buses (all of them, but the big touring buses), everything about them is so scum bag.  Even at the border, there were 3 different kiosks to check in and get visas for the country.  There was a long line on the one side, and with the middle one nearly vacant, I asked one of the cops if I could go there, and he responded that I could go to any one of them.  Waiting in line, a couple guys (not in uniform or anything), asked me if I was on one of the buses (wearing a bike helmet and bike clothes, really?).  After I told them no, they tried to tell me it was for the buses only, and even tried bringing people in front of me, cutting the line.  Arriving at the window, the employee didn't have a problem and stamped my passport.

Kilometers ridden so far: 23, 193.7

Agradezco

I received another generous donation recently that needs to be mentioned.  Big thank you goes out to Diane Marika and the Marika family for donating toward helping me finish this thing. 

On a related note, I want to thank, everyone again, that has recently donated towards my trip.  Without these donations, my trip would have already been over due to lack of funds.  Literally, you are keeping me going.  I am forever grateful.

Media

Russo at his shop... "Russo's" in Cusco.  Great guy, even with recently broken shoulder, he put a new spoke on my front wheel, and checked/trued all my wheels. Gracias amigo!

 
View from camp one evening


Snow covered mountains with alpacas and llamas below

More high altitude passes

It just doesn't look like 4,000 meters

But it sure feels like it at night.  First time on the ENTIRE trip I've ever seen temps below 0*C at night.  Waking up daily to frost on everything, and waking up in my tent feeling the cold on my face

The very stretch where a cyclist had been killed by a dumb animal driver.  Heard about back in Trujillo.  In memory of him.

Looking for camp

Sunrise over Lake Titicaca

Puno, Peru

The islands of Uros, Lake Titicaca

The hand-made floating islands of Uros, and a hand-made rifle

Unfortunately back into the dirt for ~85km


So many cold mornings

Time to ride and hadn't warmed up much, plus there was wind

Such rough terrible stretches, real slow going


Another great camp spot, and no one around for kms

From dirt to pavement again, what a sight that always is

Strange animals, like a cross between chinchilla, rabbit, and a squirrel

After another big pass, cruising at ~4,500 meters

The pink dots you see on the edge of the water are, yes, flamingos.  Even saw a few fly over head

If ONLY you could feel the wind here.  So incredibly ferocious, blasting, relentless, and constant.

As you could see in the previous photo, not a lot of protection from the wind with good camp spots.  I saw some berms next to the road, and actually found a great spot protected from the wind near these houses.  The nice fellow on the left in the yellow jacket saw me, came over and offered me a room for the night free in one of these hand-made adobe homes.  Here at ~4,600 meters and extremely powerful wind, I of course said yes and enjoyed a wind free warm night.  Muchas gracias!

Partially frozen ponds.  Instead of sweat dripping on my bars, at this altitude it's snot.

Fortunately it always warmed up later in the day with the sun out.  Would have been down right dangerous if it was raining.

Or snowing...

After having climbed up to an already high altitude, I saw this long hill.

Struggled a bit to get up there.  Didn't stay long because it was starting to snow here.

After so many ups and downs, and false summits, FINALLY reaching the edge and the long downhill I was looking forward to for so long.  Was ~54kms of complete downhill without pedaling a stroke

Camping out in a wash, leaving in the morning

Back into the barren desert with sand and rocks.

and so much wind! Uhhhhh!

Trying to avoid the wind, up really early one day, sunrise from the road

Last night in Peru

Friends I met at the border and did the article on me and my trip.  Out in front of the office of "La estrella de Arica", local newspaper in town.


I don't remember ever being so excited crossing a border.

Gracias por las fotos!  Just leaving the border and entering Chile
 

Arriving in Arica

Andres, what a helpful guy.  I mentioned how I need a new chain, but checking in Peru, everyone only had Shimano and I really wanted SRAM with the quick link (can take it on/off so with my hands to clean it).  He came by the hostel I was at on his bike to deliver a new SRAM chain.  Just really helpful

More hills of course



More dirt and rocks


Like quite a few times in Peru, waiting for them to finish bombing some rocks

Not being prepared can prove fatal on this trip.  Leaving Cuya, I mistakenly didn't fill all my bottles with water, after a 17km hill and ~60km, I came across this construction crew who filled all my bottles with tasty purified water, at no cost.  I honestly don't know what I would have done if they weren't there, there was NO ONE, nothing, no tiendas, for what ended up being ~130km.  Should have been better prepared, asking people and checking the map.



The winds have been so terrible since Peru, so frustrating to deal with.

Trying to get cover behind these rocks, setting up my tent in the evening the wind was still blasting.

Arriving in Iquique and the wonderful ride down the hill to town

Back to seeing malls and massive grocery stores

Taylor, from warmshowers, making some delicous guac.  She's from Chicago and has been living in Iquique for little over a year now and loves it.  She's done quite a few bike trips and is heading out soon for Europe.  Her and her boyfriend Hans have a comfy place in Iquique they've kindly let me stay at.

Hanging at the house with some of their friends.

Iquique, Chile


"La Estrella de Arica" newspaper article about my trip.  Page 1, much better article than the one in Mexico

P. 2

Seeing the town.  Here driving to see the memorial for the battle of the Pacific between Chile, Peru and Bolivia and where the "Esmeralada" sank.

Iquique, Chile


Taylor and Hans

Scrubbing away
I forgot to include this back in Cuenca, Ecuador and since then.  New sticker, and although "un auto menos" is great, Latin American drivers need to learn a much more important message.





I had to put some more hill profiles, especially considering the last massive pass that I had to get over... just to leave the mountains of Peru!


Here's the section after Cusco, besides the pass it wasn't too bad.  After the pass, camping nightly I had temperatures below 0*c, a first on my trip.  Cruising along at 4,000 meters, with any hills I could really feel the altitude, not just lack of air and breathing, but could feel the altitude with lack of energy:



This is the route I was going to do from Puno. Arriving in Ilave, the road turned to dirt and I was forced to make a detour to avoid descending 5,000 meters to sea level, on dirt and rocks:




Here was my actual route from Puno that I ended up taking:




This is the stretch after Arica.  I knew I had the hills, they really weren't too bad.  The WIND is what was terrible, blasting me in the late afternoon several days, slowing my pace on flat smooth pavement to not even 10km/hr.  That and nearly running out of water and being saved by a construction crew working on one of the bridges I passed over, supplying me with as much water as I could carry in my bottles: