You get a lot of time to think, bicycling solo across two continents. It's amazing how different it is traveling alone. Sometimes more
difficult. Not having anyone there to provide motivation or support,
not having anyone to take turns drafting while fighting a headwind, not
having anyone to have a laugh with. Resting while trying to get up a hill, thinking about having days of hills ahead, and having to summon the courage to push forward, with no one around to lend a hand or offer a pat on the back. Sometimes it's easier. Going at my
own pace, seeing incredible things/meeting people, has a whole new
profoundness. Being alone on the road, allows me to really dive deep into the spaces
of mind and think about important things. Important things that matter in life.
Thinking about the past, the present, and the future. Relationships. Decisions made, and those to make. Regrets. Things to do in the future. I think about all sorts of stuff, and lots of the times, the same things run through my mind. I'm so glad I have music to listen to at times, to distract myself because lots of times it's impossible to quiet my mind. Sometimes I start to doubt myself, or just think too much. My website is used to reflect on everything To give an idea of what I'm thinking and experiencing. I'm simply stating my beliefs, opinions, but most importantly, my observations.
Sometimes I get negative comments about some of the things that I've written. I'd like to take the time to remind my readers that reading this material is voluntary. This isn't Facebook. You don't get status updates and reminders on your homepage. Unless you use my email notification when I've updated the page, you have to actively arrive to my webpage. So please, in a world where censorship is becoming more prevalent, I like to exercise my right to write what I please. Omit your comments about trying to get me to write something else, or argue about something. Do what you like, if you aren't enjoying my posts, don't read them, furthermore, don't send me messages complaining about what I've written! This isn't facebook! However, if you do enjoy my work,
do leave/send comments on what you're enjoying, or if you simply wish to say hello. Thanks.
If you do enjoy my webpage, then this would be a good seg way into asking how much do you spend on entertainment weekly? Consider the time it takes to produce this webpage. For example, in Quito I
literally, spent 12 hours making the last post. I was up at around 630 in the morning and was in the cafe the
entire day until almost 7. I could have been out, wandering the city, enjoying the sights. Now I don't know how many would consider my webpage to be entertainment, but if you wanted to ensure the continuance of my trip, and thus my webpage, consider even just buying me lunch, or a coffee to get up those long hills, or provide some energy to write, upload photos, and edit everything. Like in Quito, and every other time I've made a post, I've spent considerable time producing this post as well. Just a thought while I thought of it. If you'd like to contribute towards the expedition, the easiest way is to use the "donate" button on my webpage. Now on to other things.
I have some great news. After a year and a half of bike travel, I've broken a hallmark number in distance. The day before that I arrived here in Trujillo, I broke 20,000km. This is interesting and significant because the circumference of the Earth is 40,000km. Meaning that I have ridden from Alaska, the same distance of half the circumference of the world. In other words, if I could have ridden my bike directly on the equator, with what I have cycled so far, I would have ridden exactly half way around the world.
Because of the SOB that hit me, I lost valuable time in my trip
trying to stay ahead of the seasons. Three valuable months, and now I'm
later than ever to arrive in Patagonia. After doing some rough calculations, it looks unreasonable and unrealistic that I will arrive in Patagonia in time before winter hits. Now I have to figure out a different turning point, and how far South I'm going to be able to get, is under question. It's still a ways away, and I'm still going to wait and see how things go, and see as much as I can see. It's really unfortunate but I was kind of already thinking about what I would be missing in Patagonia with my projected plan. Now I'm thinking a whole different trip in the future is in order, to really explore Patagonia with ample time, in the best season with a friend or two, a lady, or all of the above. Plus, there's lots of dirt roads I hear and riding on 700 wheels on dirt roads just isn't as pleasant as riding on them with 26inch wheels. So I'm not too bummed, this way I don't have to worry as much either about getting there in time. I think a place like that, with virtually no traffic, incredible natural beauty, really pleasant riding and camping, would be better enjoyed with other people as well. To really plug along slowly, absorbing everything, taking plenty of pictures and savoring the natural setting. Really enjoying camping in a gorgeous natural environment, without the noise of cars and traffic, without pollution, no trash, no people... just quiet, clean, beautiful, nature.
Since Popayan, I have been aware that the coast of Peru is dangerous, particularly for traveling cyclists. Before Popayan, I was unaware of any danger. I heard of cyclists being robbed at gun point, or after having rocks thrown at them, police escorts through towns. I pictured a 'Mad Max' kind of country, crazy drivers, vehicles and thieves, total chaotic roads... (not far from the truth, the only thing missing is a gun on my bike). I heard that three cyclists were robbed in Chimbote. A group of people rushed them on their bikes and ripped some panniers from their bikes. The kicker was while I was in Cuenca and heard of a German traveling cyclist that had just been shot and murdered road side near the jungle in Peru (the circumstances are a little bit shrouded but it turns out he was robbed of some of his valuables, not all - he was found next to his bike) There was one town I heard of, a small desert town, that hardly looks like anything on a map. A town called Paijan, in between Trujillo and Chicalyo. The name of this town is so famous among traveling cyclists. If you do a quick search online for cycling and this town, you will find thread after thread, discussion after discussion about this town. The reason is that more than 10 - 15 documented different robberies have taken place in this town since 1985... maybe more.
Needless to say, Peru, and the coast, has been on my mind a long time. When I heard about the German being murdered, I almost decided to stick to the mountains completely, but I know of several cyclists that have passed through the coast unharmed in the past year. I also recently heard of a Casa Ciclista in Trujillo, actually the most famous among all of them since this was apparently the very first started, by a man named Luis, or Lucho as he goes by.
Since he started the Casa Ciclista in 1985, he's had almost 2,000 traveling cyclists stay at his humble home in Trujillo. Now I don't know what the percentage is off the top of my head, but 20 robberies vs 1,800 unharmed cyclists passing through - that's a real low probability of being robbed. Seemed logical to continue as planned.
I stayed at Caro's house with her family for a couple days, getting a few things done and seeing some of the city. Then I packed up and rode to the city center and stayed at a hotel with my Ozzie cycling buddy Nigel. I spent an entire day, literally 12 hours working on finish my webpage, and with barely seeing the sights, knew I had to keep moving (especially instead of wasting money at the hotel). I said farewell to Nigel, who was heading out to the coast of Ecuador, and isn't planning on getting to Patagonia for almost a whole another year. We had a great time riding and camping together, but like always, people come and go and we just need to appreciate the memories.
Ecuador was real difficult. Colombia and Ecuador, particular countries that were very difficult to travel across by push bike. It's tough to describe to you how difficult it is sometimes, in general on this trip, to get across certain sections with different variables. You have no idea how tough it is sometimes! So many times, it's simply mind over body, when I feel real tired, frustrated, or angry, and just willing myself to continue. LONG sections of rough roads, months on end of hot humid weather, weeks on end of nothing but mountains... There have been quite a few cyclists I've encountered in Colombia and Ecuador who admit they took motorized transport over some areas. I refuse to do so. Afterall, this is "
PEDAL the unknown"
Riding out of the city was horrible. It took two hours, with constant traffic, pollution from the trucks, and the same old asshole drivers, honking and nearly hitting me. I only remember one other city being quite so bad to leave (that may have been the worst ever that I can remember), which was San Salvador.
Colombia and Ecuador are not hilly, they are mountainous. I never thought how difficult it would be to cross these countries. I only ever thought about how it was going to be difficult in Peru, considering the altitude of Cusco, and the jagged looking peaks in Machu Pichu. I mean there are a few notable hills or mountains I remember I had to get up in North America, but it almost seems like everything pales in comparison to what I've been doing in SA. So many times on the trip in general, struggling up a hill, stopping to check to see if I've got a flat tire, wondering why it feels so tough.
Ecuador, like Colombia, is all mountains. Although in Colombia there were some breaks, with some flat areas, like south of Cartagena, or the area near Cali. Ecuador, is nothing but mountains.
Even after getting out of Quito, the highway was highly traveled and had loads of traffic. I had some high altitude sections for the next few days, one crossing the base of the massive volcano Cotopaxi, and another near an even bigger volcano, the biggest in Ecuador, Chimborazo.
They were cold sections, but crossing the pass South of Amabato was very chilling. Working my way up the hill, with light rain and a breeze, it was cold. I could see my breath, in huge clouds of steam. With the wind at the top my wind chill chart on the top indicated the temp to be between -4 to 0 celcius. (the pass turned out to be 3,600 meters when I checked later, I had numerous around this height in Ecuador). I had to stop and put on all of my cold weather gear, bootie shoe covers, rain pants, rain jacket (with hood on under my helmet) and even my neoprene dive gloves (should have started in Alaska with these). The ride down was cold and back in 20 degree weather, it still took me a while to warm up with a hot lunch. I haven't had such a cold moment like this since back in maybe Utah when I got snowed on.
I camped where I could, finding the usual nook and crannies with nobody around. Not having to resort to busier places or near peoples' homes.
When I got South of Riobamba, there was an unusual flat area, and a massive communal farming area. Nothing like I had seen before. With a really pleasant, smooth road, winding through a valley with a river and gradually downhill, I was really enjoying the ride. After camping in a pine forest, the next day I had some really nice riding in the morning.
The really nice kind of riding that has been nonexistent for me for so long. The kind of riding... that I enjoy. The road had been up and down, but coming over a small bluff the road opened up into an open valley with rolling hills covered in light brown grass, pine trees, and beautiful mountains. I've had occasional, rare, moments on this trip where I'm just struck by the natural beauty. I simply ride along in silence, no cars, moutha agape, rubber necking and trying to really appreciate the ideal cycling.
Nothing gold can stay.
I enjoyed the short bliss of riding, then road became really hilly. Just before Alausi, basically all the way to Cuenca, for a few days I had terribly hilly terrain that was always either up or down that at times I wondered if I was ever going to get out of it. It was also very unusual the amount of fog that I had in this area. One day I had fog that started late in the morning, that I rode in the whole rest of the day and didn't go away until the following day (which was brief before returning later). I had some more real cold areas with a bit of rain, but I was hungry for a hot shower, clean laundry, and a bed, and got through it quick.
Arriving in Cuenca, I found a hostel and
really enjoyed the customary shower. However up in the mountains, being cold, it was a real long
hot shower, and relaxed. Although Cuenca is
very touristy, I still enjoyed the city. It doesn't have the huge city kind of feel like Quito, and is quite pretty. There's even a small river running by the edge of town with gorgeous green grass to sit on and a bike path paralleling it. There are loads of hookah bars, clubs, and people selling the usual tourist stuff. I had a couple days off, walked around the city, relaxed thoroughly, even watched some movies in the hostel.
The area South of Cuenca to Loja is maybe the highlight of Ecuador for me. Again being bittersweet, very difficult terrain to cross, but incredibly beautiful. Almost right out of Cuenca I had a long hill to get up, and late in the day reaching the top, rode along a ridge with great views of the mountains on both sides. There was no one around at all, just the occasional car. I was REALLY lucky and saw several water streams/springs feeding from above (there was nobody living on the hill above). One of these small natural faucets was trickling out from some moss, and I remember that I learned back in Colombia that moss is really helpfully to naturally clean the water. Using my cutting board, I was able to to funnel the water into my white jug that I use to get tap water to cook with (I always at least boil the water from the white jug before drinking. Since having parasites in Mexico and Central America, I'm really paranoid about getting them again).
I found such a great camp spot just down the way, behind pine trees, out of view on the road, on a slight hill, with some soft grass. There was such an amazing view looking East of the gigantic Andes. One of the best campsites/pleasant evenings I've had, but it might be that I just haven't had many like this in so long. I really needed it. It's been so refreshing to have pleasant riding and enjoyable campsites like this recently. It has really motivated me and recharged me. I can't describe how good it feels to enjoy the trip once more. To have a lot less people on the roads is so nice, less noise and stress from the cars. Less pollution to breath. Cold riding and comfy camping. Also with less populated areas it's less stressful to find camp, and while in camp, less paranoia about being harassed or potentially robbed.
The next couple days were challenging. I still had a couple more great camp spots, but instead of hilly terrain, with lots of up and downs, in turned into up and downs of mountains. The kind of place where you're riding along the top of a mountain, cold with pine trees, drop 1,200 meters into the hot weather below just to cross a river and a bridge, then climb up to the exact same height on the other side. Going down such long hills, riding the brakes, my forearms get sore and lock up. Still, with the good camping and high altitude ridge lines with great views, it wasn't all bad (especially without the hot humid weather). With all of these massive hills, and now that I'm feeling back in shape, it's such an amazing feeling to get up a really long difficult hill. Look back down on where I was looking up at the hill, and realize that I just pedaled my bike unassisted all the way up the hill. The feeling of accomplishment after getting up these hills, crossing countries by bicycle, again it's indescribable.
When I got to Loja, it was decision time. I had already made my decision, but Loja was the last chance to change my route and keep going through the mountains and avoid the dangerous coast. I stopped for a quick cheap hot lunch after dealing with some cold gusting wind in the morning, before dropping into town. I kept with my decision and headed towards Macara.
Over a pass out of a Loja, and a long downhill that included a nasty area of construction, I camped near Catamayo that night, back in the sweltering heat... sweating profusely just sitting in camp. Catamayo was a glimpse back into the heat that I disdain. Although, it
felt like I had returned to Baja, back into the desert, which was kind
of nice. I had a long hill to get out of the valley that I started early on to try and avoid the heat (still hot). At the top, like the day before, I had crazy strong winds and at one point when it was a tailwind, for the first time ever, literally gusted and pushed me up the hill for a moment. From there it was a very hilly and hot couple of days to get to Macará, and the border of Perú. There was one hill in particular about 20km out from Macara that I hadn't seen on hill profile that I suffered on.
I didn't start out as early as I should have and arriving on the hill it was already 30 something degrees out, not to mention I was nearly out of water. I took my time up the hill, but it was steep, and did I mention it was hot out? Instead of having the high altitude and lack of oxygen that my heart had to compensate for, now I was back in an Oxygen-rich environment, but my heart was working over time. My heart was still supplying blood to my muscles working to get up the hill, but not to also cool my body. I've had so many times like this in Mex, C Amer, Colombia... where it feels like my heart is going to jump out of my chest. I get so hot I start to feel a bit dizzy. So whenever I needed, I stopped in the shade of a tree on the road to calm my heart and give my body a second to catch up. Fortunately it leveled out a bit near the top, and in no time I was in Macara, drinking an ice cold coke in a real cheap hotel and taking a cold shower.
When I was doing a bit of reading recently about Peru being dangerous, I had read somewhere about somebody saying that Macara is a pretty dangerous town. This didn't surprise me since all of the border towns I've seen, are
almost always dodgy. However, that is
completely inaccurate, in my perception, to describe Macara as dangerous. It was by far the mellowest border town I've ever seen. I enjoyed my day off there, walking around town, and even on the airport runway where everyone is out exercising, playing volleyball, or walking/running the length of the air strip. There's a cheap market across the street from the hotel where meals were almost always two bucks, and filling.
Ecuador took a lot longer than I thought it would to cross. The North of Ecuador really wasn't too impressive, the area North of Quito, and even for a ways South of Quito. It wasn't until South of Riobamba that I really started enjoying the natural beauty that Ecuador has to offer, in the high altitude mountains. Even though Ecuador was insanely mountainous, it was really bitter sweet. There was some fantastic areas, great riding, beautiful camping areas with loads of pine trees, cold clean air, and no one around.
Ecuador had loads of real friendly people (like most places in Latin America), lots of people waving and smiling instead of the more annoying greeting that people do - just shouting "GRINGO!" (something I will never understand), "HEY MISTER!", or the people shouting nonsense that they think is English. Of course it still happened, but there were more people giving me greetings that I enjoy, like a thumbs up, or somebody passing and saying "DALE!" or "SUBELA!".
I passed many areas with indigenous people, and like Colombia, they have particular clothing they wear, that is different between the areas. (Compared to the indigenous in Mexico and Central America, that I don't really remember them having special looking clothing).
Leaving Ecuador and entering Peru, I immediately noticed a difference. For one it made me realize how clean a lot of Colombia and Ecuador were. There is so much trash in Peru. I just haven't seen it in a while, since places like parts of Mexico, or parts of Central America. There are just stretches where the ground on both sides of the road has scattered trash all over it. (it's closer to some of the towns and cities). The initial stretch of Peru, there loads of acacia trees and wild goats running free. The progression from the gigantic mountains, to the flat desert, was a slow one, over the course of a few days. As the kilometers ticked by leaving the border, it slowly became more and more flat, with less green areas. Back in the desert, presents other problems besides the heat. Thorns and spines.
This desert is different that I've seen. Instead of tons of prickly pear, barrels, ocotillos, and other forms of cactus, there really weren't many, just tons of acacia. I was 2 for 2 the first days in Peru with flats. Meaning everyday for the first couple days, camping out, I had a flat.
The heat continued, it was sweltering, and I started to rethink my decision about going along the coast. After crossing the border, I was also rethinking my decision regarding my security. Apart from one guy yelling "puto" at me, the vibe in the small town close to the border Las Lomas, was clearly unfriendly. Although, there were several people whistling and waving. After having heard so much about all the dangers of the coast of Peru, I really didn't know what to expect.
However, I was also excited. For some reason, Peru has stood out for a long time to me as one of the gems to see of Latin America. By "discovering Peru", I wanted to do more than the see Machu Pichu. I have always heard about some of the waves along the Peruvian coast, and for some reason the names of Trujillo and Chiclayo just stood out to me looking at a map, as something I wanted to see.
The first town I came to was Las Lomas (besides some areas with a few houses), and it was obvious that I had to keep riding through town. My presence didn't feel welcomed. Heading out from there I was thinking more than ever about what it was going to be like further South.
It's interesting that lots of Peruvians are really dark. They aren't black though. It's almost like a lot are of Indian descent. Obvious why though, the sun intensity is ridiculously strong in the Northern end in the desert. For a while now, I've actually been getting sunburned through the tiny vent holes in my riding gloves (even back in Ecuador).
I saw on the map a shortcut to get to Piura from Tambo Grande, I wasn't sure if it was paved or not, and of course after asking a few people, and being told it was paved, I went for it. I rode through town and at the entrance to the road, it was obviously not paved, and the construction guys were there to provide input. Even just before that, when I stopped and asked about the condition of the road. A crowd had gathered, curious about me and my questions, and it was clear the majority just wanted to help.
Although the beginning was muddy and for a while slow going, it got better. Having a nice secluded camp desert spot for the night, I finished the road in the morning and back on the pavement had the first of the desert flats to fix.
Passing through Piura, I knew it was going to be the first major town or city to pass through and was still feeling unsure of what to think of the area. In the town, I had several helpful people help me with directions through town, and even one fellow where I stopped to get air, offered loads of advice and answered my questions. The kind people continued through the desert with lots of people waving and hollering. I started to wonder when I was going to hit the coast part where I had heard there are lots of unfriendly people, because so far I was meeting a lot of the usual nice folks.
I loaded up on water and provisions in Piura. Looking at the map (and hearing from a couple people in town), I knew I was going to have a long stretch across the desert with nothing before getting to Chiclayo. Sure enough, for almost 200km, there is absolutely nothing, besides open desert, and the occasional house about every 70km. I had a nice quiet secluded spot in the desert, and in the morning, another flat. This flat was different though.
After pulling out the huge acacia thorn stuck in my front tire, I patched the tube (now an expert after having had so many) and started filling the fixed tube with air. I put a good amount of air in, but then my pump started sticking with the plunger for some reason, and actually stopped working. 60-70km from the nearest town, or house for that matter, only a couple liters of water, and with no bike pump now. Wow. FORTUNATELY, I was able to put just enough air in the tire to ride in. Probably only about 20-30 pounds. I had to ride 70km just to find the next building, that was actually a restaurant with a tire shop on the side. Back to max pressure, and like always with the tires filled up, went from spongy and soft, to hard and rigid. The bike handles so much better with max pressure, and back on the road was flying along. Now riding extra paranoid, like the whole day, of any glass or debris on the road. I knew camping out again, after having camped out the past two days, and each time had a flat, my odds weren't good about not getting another one and I knew I would have to camp close to some people just in case (plus being close to Chiclayo, figured I would have to).
A furious right quartering headwind kicked up something fierce late in the day in one section, and I had to abandon my plans of possibly getting to Chiclayo that day (Almost everyday, I've had some cross winds and headwinds along the coast, mostly subtle but still there. Not surprising with the cool ocean on-shore wind from the Humboldt current, and the hot desert air). I found a great spot behind the house of a finca of a real nice couple. They let me camp on the edge of their farm behind their house, out of view of the road. I bought some fresh eggs from the chickens. They gave me fresh mangos we picked from their trees, and gave me water from their well. They wouldn't let me pay for the mangos or the water.
One thing, I always want to tell people, and one thing I always want to remember, is the profound generosity of so many people, that have so little. People that just make ends meet. So many times camping near poorer areas, and people come by my tent and offer me something to eat.
I had an easy day getting to Chiclayo, but I passed through Lambayeque, that felt a bit dangerous. I think part of it though, was because of how dirty it was. The roads were unpaved through town, so it was very dusty, with loads of cars and people. It's just very different as well from what I'm use to with the motortaxis, and dirty, dusty, roads in the towns. When I got to Chiclayo, I met up with Junior, a couchsurfer who let me stay at his house. As we walked to his house, he filled me in on some of the dangerous areas of town, but really didn't think Lambayeque to be dangerous, admitting it's dirty with the roads, but it's where the museums are and usually has lots of tourists (I didn't see any).
I met his really nice family at the house, his wife and young daughter, mom, uncle, grandpa, dad, brother, dog... whole big family in a big house. They live in the sourthern end of town, and also on a dirt road. I had my own room to stay in with a bed and even a TV. I had a couple real nice relaxing days at their house, catching up some things, and getting another bike pump! We walked around downtown quite a bit, and even drove out to the beach, Pimentel one evening.
It was the first time I had seen the ocean in more than 5 months, and even saw some surf-able waves. I really enjoyed it. Like Cuenca in Ecuador, I was really struck with how many beautiful women are in Chiclayo (much more than in Trujillo interestingly). There was a bit of rain everyday, so all the dirt roads turned quite muddy. Leaving Chiclayo, the roads were wet and muddy and any time I went off the road (trying to find a tire shop with air AND a tire gauge, which no one had) my tires and shoes were caked with mud.
Leaving Chiclayo, it was game time. Paijan was now closer than ever. From Chiclayo to Trujillo is about 200km. I wanted to put in a long hard day to get as close to Paijan as possible, so in the morning I could pass the town real early in the morning. I left about 930, and rode hard all day. It was still real flat, with lots of open areas of desert, and passed the occasional small town (all seemed really mellow). Of course late in the day the usual headwind picked up off the coast that I had to fight through to get to Pacasmayo. The wind continued after the town, but I had made some good progress and wasn't too phased by the wind. A cyclist on a mountain bike had caught up with me at the edge of town, really nice guy that's training for a race. He rode with me for another 10-15km out of town and he mentioned how Paijan is very dangerous for cyclists riding through. He turned back after a while, and after another 30min I could see the road turn south with a dune kind of area starting. I had 125km on the Odo, which after checking (several times, different sources before leaving Chiclayo), indicated that I was 25km from Paijan. I estimated that should take about an hour of hard riding to get there in the morning, as long as I didn't have a headwind, rough roads, or lots of hills.
After going about a half km off the highway, I found a perfect camp spot hidden behind some dunes, from the road. Quick dinner and to bed. I was up with my alarm at 3:30am, and still in the dark, ate a quick breakfast and packed. It was raining lightly, and after only 1.5hours (usually at least 2 to get out of camp and back on the road), I meandered my way in the dark, over the sand, and found my way back to the highway. I got warm, and loose.
The road was wet, and I was surprised how much traffic there was. There were plenty of dumb animals on the road, shining their brights blinding me, honking behind me and driving close... the usual affair. It was good though to have these scum bag drivers, it got me pissed me off, adrenaline pumping, and got me ready for a fight if need be.
I considered taking out my kick stand wood stick, to have handy if need be, but it's flimsy and might just antagonize instead of intimidate. It's unfortunate that I no longer have my copper pipe kick stand stick, that would've served great in this scenario. I decided to leave the stick, and concluded to just ride hard, concluding that I still had my mitts if need be. I was envisioning scenarios, daydreaming about a possible robbery. I reasoned that if anything were to happen, I would try and make a prompt attack, something they wouldn't expect. Lots of times from what I've seen or heard, these robbers are just some punk kids that need to be taught a lesson. Obviously if they had a gun, there's not much I can do except concede.
As the km's slowly ticked away, I was brainstorming of strategies to defend myself. I was trying to think of every possible attack they would try and use. My heart slowly pumped harder and harder. The night time started to change, and the sky slowly started to show some light. Coming over a small bluff, the lights of Paijan came into view. I stopped, ate a couple of bananas, drank some water quick, and checked to see if everything was strapped down. Took off the reflective vest and stowed my headlamp.
I was ready.
I rode on and from the open desert, the town slowly started, and I started passing light fixtures and buildings. My heart was pounding, but I was riding strong. I eyeballed every person I saw, evaluating them as a potential threat. On the edge of town, there were several different people waving and saying hi. I had heard about these mototaxis, that the thieves use lots of times to rob people. I saw lots in Piura and Chiclayo, but now I started remembering some of the stories of people, mototaxis driving by and people trying to grab bags off people's bikes, or mototaxis cutting in front of cyclists to block them, then rob them. Any time I heard one behind me, I scrupulously checked the passengers and gauged the potential threat. As the two stroke engine whirred behind me, my heart only pounded stronger and I would change my line as I was riding, and continued to check back to investigate the passengers and drivers. The thing is though, they usually wait. You see, the robbers see the cyclists pass through town, then wait until you get outside of the city. Then they usually pursue in one of the mototaxis to rob you with no one around.
In a way, honestly I had a part of me that kind of invited the opportunity for them to try something on me. I could release some aggression from all of the drivers on the road. I just knew that if they tried something, I would not go easily. I have been through too much, already through so many dangerous areas, and no closer than ever to the end of the trip... to succumb to some scum bags in some desert no-name town.
I got to the city center. There were a good amount of people walking around, people getting into trucks and such. All the shops were closed, but there was still plenty of activity through town, even at 6 in the morning. Riding through the rest, like the edge of town, it was surprising to think of this town as dangerous and that people had been robbed. There were numerous people greeting me friendly, and I would have gauged it to be a safe town had I not heard of all the robberies.
At this point I had it in high gear, and as the cars slowed with some of the traffic, I weaved my way through. I knew I was not stopping, for anything.
I got past the town, and now there was loads of sugar cane. Then the distinct sound of mototaxis approaching from behind started. Tensing up a bit more, I knew that it was now or never is something was going to happen in Paijan. I was ready for battle. As each one passed, I checked them over thoroughly, but they were sometimes empty, other times with a mother and daughter. No thieves. Nothing. After a few more km's down the road, around a corner, I stopped to take a break and eat something.
I did it. I was passed the infamous Paijan. The adrenaline dropped and exhaustion hit me from riding hard and the lack of sleep. It was another 50km or so to Trujillo which wasn't too difficult with how flat it was, but I was feeling real tired. The last stretch was through an open desert with a headwind and a gradual long uphill. Over the top, and I dropped in towards Trujillo. Another 10-15km, and about another hour, and I was in downtown relaxing in a restaurant drinking a cold coke and eating fresh ceviche.
When I was in Quito, I got a list of Casa Ciclistas in Latin America. There is one in particular, in Trujillo, that was started by Luis "Lucho", back in 1985. It's considered to be the first, and is quite famous. After coordinating on the phone, Lucho said to come by and that I was welcome to stay at the house. Arriving, sitting on the couch, he congratulated me on getting past Paijan. You see he's had the house since 1985, and has offered his humble home to passing traveling cyclists to stay since then. He's almost reached 2,000 cyclists, and is aware of about 15 robberies in Paijan. I didn't realize there had been so many. I knew there was a few, but he went on to describe numerous different robberies of cyclists. It only made me feel so much more fortunate to have passed it, and emerge unscathed.
So I've been at the house the past few days relaxing. It's been nice. I had my own room with a bed for a while, then just a couple days ago a german cyclist, Marcus arrived, and is staying in the room as well. He's new to cycle traveling, having just bought his bike in Lima, and his heading North. I helped instruct him on how to properly patch a tube, and filled him on some of the areas he's going to hit... like the mountains of course.
There's an English traveling cyclist staying at the house, Andy. Real nice guy that has actually traveled nearly all over the world by bike. He's been at the house a couple weeks now, and is going to be starting in the northern part of Peru in the mountains soon, to hit the segment of trip he missed. He's already ridden from Mendoza to Patagonia with his girlfriend, a few months ago. I was already thinking lots about what I would be missing in Patagonia, where I was planning on turning around. After talking with him extensively, and finally doing a calculation illustrating I would be arriving just too late, I've come to the conclusion that I'm definitely going to do a whole different trip to Patagonia. To really enjoy the sights, the beautiful camping and riding that I've heard so much about.
The three of us have had a good time, sharing traveling stories and relaxing at the house. Lucho doesn't live at the house, but a family does upstairs. Lucho has been into bikes for a long time, and is quite a mechanic. He's got a case full of medals from his racing days as a cyclist.
Before hitting the mountains again, I knew that I should check my chain, and probably put some new brake pads on the steed. When I was in Popayan, after the accident I went to a general bike shop, and asked for the front wheel to be straightened, and the headset checked (both a result of the microbus that hit me). After leaving the bike there, and returning the next day, the mechanic informed me that he also changed the grease in my hubs. "What?" I asked him. I didn't ask him to do that. You need to understand that truing wheels, and tightening the cones on the hubs, are an art. Both you can't do too tight, or too loose. It takes lots of experience and practice, to do both correctly.
So after getting settled in, and catching Lucho at the house again finally, we started working on my bike. (he's always busy, and only poping into the house briefly. He's a dj around town, and last night helped him get his equipment and finally got back about 130 in the morning). I asked him to check my hubs, just in case, because I had a feeling this mechanic in Popayan just wasn't that experienced. Sure enough, he overtightened one of the sides on my front hub. One cone was completely ruined. My expensive Shimano XT hubs that I bought in Guadalajara (because I was having problems with my other hub and cones), one was now ruined, all because of this dumb mechanic. I had explicitly explained to him that I had just had everything regreased/checked in Medellin. In other words, there was absolutely no reason for him to touch my hubs,
especially since I didn't ask him to. I can only conclude that because he's never seen hubs like this before, maybe he was curious how they looked inside.
Nobody has Shimano XT hubs, it's almost a joke to think of somebody having them in Peru. Not only that, but they always sell them in pairs,
and they don't sell spare parts. Even though I was only having a problem with one hub in Guadalajara, I had to buy two there, and I bought them thinking I wouldn't have to have any more hub problems. I didn't know what I was going to do. I was already late on time, and started thinking I would have to have a new hub shipped form the US. Apart from the expense of the hub, shipping is really expensive to get something down here, and it would also have to be rushed. The good thing as well about my damaged hub, is that it's just the cone, and the inside of the hub is unaffected. You see, if the hub was damaged, rebuilding the entire wheel would be in order. Instead, we just have to put new bearings, cones, grease, and an axel, and it's rolling good as new, without touching any of the spokes, but this isn't actually true.
Upon further inspection, sure enough the inside of the hub is scored as well, and so the whole hub needs to be replaced as well. Inside the race of the bearing, there can be slight wear, but marks of any kind, scratches (or in my case some pitting, because of how ridiculously overtight the cones were because of this bad mechanic), basically means the hub and/or parts are now junk.
Lucho came through big. Since he's quite famous in the cycling community, he knows lots of shops and people. He knew a guy in Lima, and after coordinating with him, and explaining I'm a traveling cyclist... the kind gentleman looked extensively for a hub. Not only did he have Shimano XT hubs, he found a single, new, hub, that he was willing to send - unheard of. Also, he only charged me about $50USD, instead of about $75 for what they go for individually. For only 10 soles, it was shipped in one day to the house, along with a new chain and some good chain oil.
Now though, since I have 32 spokes, and the new hub is 36 spoke, I've got to change my rim... again, the same front wheel that was completely brand new since Guadalajara. So back to coordinating with his friend in Lima, to get a new rim up here, and use the old spokes. How it goes though on this trip, stuff gets worn or breaks, or just lots of bad/inexperienced mechanics.
I've had problems with my headset so many times through Mexico, and before I arrived in Medellin, I had planned to change it all out. My friend Mauro in Medellin talked me out of changing it, which I regret because of course it started getting loose again recently.
So Lucho and I have already changed all the headset parts for new ones, caps, bearings, grease and all. He happens to have one extra pair of "Kool Stop" brake pads were going to put on (also tough to find because nobody makes my style brakes anywhere anymore, they're real old). After we get the new hub parts in (the back hub was fine fortunately, we cleaned it good and regreased it), new chain, new pair of brake pads in the front... I'll be rolling smooth and ready for more mountains and lots more kms.
Hopefully I won't be here too much longer, gotta get going South here, but it's paramount and a priority to make sure my ride's dialed in right. I have a philosophy that coined and an ideology long ago I started using: When in doubt, change it out. If any part is questionable, I always change it out. I always try to make sure everything is set on my bike before heading out of town. I never want mechanical problems on the road, and always try to keep up replacing parts. It's one thing that I really love about bikes, apart from the profound simplicity, there are few moving parts. What parts there are, are relatively cheap, and easy to replace (compared to a motor).
I really like Trujillo though from what I've seen. I liked Chiclayo, but it was much dirtier with all the dirt roads. Plus Chiclayo seemed to have more dodgy parts around town. One evening walking from the house in Chiclayo, to downtown, I stopped to ask for directions a couple times, and both times the people told me it was dangerous up ahead and I should take a taxi. Junior and some people had said that Trujillo is more dangerous, I'm sure there are areas around town, but from what I've seen, even into the night, it's pretty mellow. Both towns are real close to the beach, and surfable waves. I could definitely see coming back here for a while.
It's going to be a few more days down the coast, then back up to the mountains before Lima. Riding through the cities is the worst part, and I'm happy to avoid Lima, which is the biggest city in Peru. Having taken so many days off recently, in Macará, Chiclayo, and again in Trujillo, it's time to put some more distance down and have some longer stretches. Although now I've changed my plan and don't plan on going as far South, I still have some passes to cross in Patagonia, to get from Chile to Argentina, and would hate to have have roads blocked and snow closures, and gotta keep the pace going smoothly.
I doubt I posted anything about the dangers of Paijan, I didn't want anyone to worry too much. However, I'm not out of the danger zone yet. Of course, like I've already mentioned, I've past through many dangerous areas on the trip, outside of Peru. I didn't need anyone to tell me it was dangerous (although lots of times people would confirm later that lots of places that seemed dangerous, actually were). I've still got to go through some other areas, including Chimbote, where just a couple months ago 3 cyclists were robbed on the street of their pannier bags. Like always, I'm sure it will be fine, and prepare myself the best I can. I don't plan on stopping in Chimbote, and will ride through, fast and strong.
With Semana Santa coming, I'm getting the hell off the coast as quick as I can. Crazy to think that a year ago I was in Mexico. In Puerto Vallarta during Semana Santa. It's a religious holiday, for about a week or two, and it's crazy. In Mexico, and lots of Latin America, almost everybody is off work and heads to the beach to party. LOADS of people then are driving on the roads, one after the other, with no break in the traffic. It's insane, and of course tons of drunks that are likely to kill a cyclist. No place for me, and worse in Peru. In the casa ciclista here, there are even two memorial posters of two traveling cyclists both killed by drivers in Peru within the past 10 years. Con mucho gusto, I head for the difficult mountains once more, out of the heat, back for the cold, difficult terrain, and hopefully towards less dumb animals.
This looks to be some of the most difficult mountain terrain I have ever crossed, but of course that's hard to say. All I can say, is that looking at the hill profiles of what lies ahead to get to Cusco looks... tough. Any doubts? Take a look at the "Media" post and the graphs. I will be cycling over passes higher than I'ver ever done. I will be at such high altitudes, higher than I've ever been besides being in an airplane. The first pass from the coast is nearly 5,000 meters. Then after Hauncayo, there are
several passes more than 4,000 meters.
Some Thoughts While Riding:
I had this inner dilemma after leaving Loja, Ecuador. When I stopped to
eat a quick lunch, there was this toothless old lady asking for money
to eat. She was rather annoying and a bit in my face as I ate, I kept
saying no but she was persistent. I get hit up for money almost daily,
and it's just routine to say no. A couple had bought a bowl of soup for
this single, dirty, old woman. As she sat eating, I thought hard about
it. As the trip has gone on, I think more, and more, about the
seemingly infinite amount of poverty I encounter in every country. I'd
like to help, but I myself am living quite cheaply, I mean going days,
sometimes a week or two without a shower, clean laundry or a bed to
sleep in. Still, I can't help but feel guilty as I travel, and
encounter poverty all the time. So many, don't even have the opportunity to travel. All they do is work hard, just to make ends
meet, just to put food on the table. I thought about that toothless old lady in Loja, for the rest of the day, biking out of town.
Funny how Americans are called Americans. We are all Americans, from the North to the South, and in the middle.
Peru is interesting that there really
aren't any local buses, just TONS of these 3-wheeled motorcycle taxis.
There are so many here in the cities in Peru, it's crazy. There were a few countries in Central America that these three-wheeled motorcycle taxis, but here there are so many.
I'm
kind of surprised to be saying this, but it almost seems that Peru
might just be a little more poor than Ecuador (definitely compared to
places like Colombia). There are loads of run-down buildings in Peru, trash and dirty areas.
One things though, like Ecuador, it's really impressive for such a poor
country, to have such nice roads. Lots of real nice smooth black
top. A cyclists delight, apart from the dumb animals. There's still
loads of dumb animals nearly killing me everyday. I also can't believe
I'm saying that it seems as though the drivers might be a little worse
in Peru. It certainly seems like they honk more, all the time. They
honk at nothing, it's F-ing ridiculous and insanely annoying. There are
so many small cars here that even have air horns, imagine... These days
on the road, I'm popping the bird more than ever with people passing
deathly close and blasting their air horn right behind me. I can't wait
to get South and get on some unpopulated roads again.
The cold weather in the mountains was so nice. There are so many things better about cycle traveling in cold weather. There's virtually no bugs, no insects, no flys in my face on hills, no mosquitoes while cooking in camp, no bugs getting in my tent. Cold and clean air is perfect cycling weather. Camping and sleeping is SO much more pleasant, putting on warm clothes in the evenings and getting comfortable in my sleeping bag in my tent. I sweat less in cold weather, so it feels like I don't need a shower
as bad or as soon. Because it's colder, I stay cooler going up hills and exert less energy. Exerting less energy, I drink less water, so I don't have to carry as much water, which equals to less weight, as well as less stops at tiendas. There are less thorny things to give me flats. Places like the desert, there's an onslaught of spines and needles attacking my bike tubes. In Ecuador, most days it was cloudy, although I was at a higher altitude, I was getting sunburned less and less UV exposure.
I forgot to thank my ozzie cycling friend Nigel for some of the great photos from camp and riding. Thanks buddy, see you down the road.
It really gets my gruff with religious people trying to convince me there is a god, or to believe in religion. I just don't get it. I'd be completely fine if they simply asked me if I was religious, and they left it at that when I tell them no, but that's not how it is. They go on, trying to convince me, like they're the first person ever to do so, thinking they're going to change my mind I guess. They don't realize that it offends me. Lots of times they give me a paper pamphlet, that's promptly thrown in the garbage when I leave. I'm not trying to offend them, but I believe it's unintelligent to believe in a religion/god. I don't have a piece of paper, outlining my reasoning, but this would surely offend most religious people. These are MY beliefs however, I realize that it might be offensive to the other people, and omit some comments. They don't realize that to an atheist, or just me, it's offensive to me to talk about the existence of a god and/or a religion. People (latins or otherwise) seem to be surprised that I can live my life without the belief in a religion or a god.
I tell them I'm happy just as it is, why can't they just accept that, and move on to a different topic?
It's interesting how lots of times people ask me what they think of their country. I'm not exactly sure why, like maybe they're curious about my perception, or maybe they're worried that I'm not enjoying it.
People continue to gawk and stare. Some stare blankly, and I just stare back, waiting for a greeting of which I of course reciprocate. Some have a look like they want to fight, almost staring menacingly, sometimes when I'm far out there, I get the zombies. The mouth open, eyes wide open, no greeting... just the zombie stare as I call it. Sometimes I say hello or something, and no response. It's real annoying lots of times. Other times people yell out dumb shit that I ignore, like random words they think is english, or just a sentence that makes no sense in English. Rarely, sometimes people wave, and with a big smile or thumbs up, say "hola amigo!". I dig that, and always enthusiastically return the salutation. Anytime people make an effort to offer a kind greeting of this kind, I'm happy to reciprocate, instead of some annoying kid or guy simply screaming "GRINGO!".
It's annoying lots of times talking to people. Apart from them not listening to me, or paying attention, and making me repeat myself so many times, they cut me off all the time, like they already know what I'm going to say or what I'm going to ask when they really don't. Like I'll get breakfast or something, and ask about the coffee, what type and stuff (I encountered one instant brand in Ecuador that was undrinkable). The lady cuts me off and says they don't have any. Then someone else comes up and gets a cup. Uhhh, you said you didn't have any...Other times I'll be talking and people just say "ya" when I'm not even done (it's not like saying yeah in english in agreement, it's basically like they already know.)
I kind of wish I had taken an astronomy class to really appreciate all of the different constellations that are now visible in the Southern Hemisphere sky.
The drivers continue to be terrible, like all of Latin America. I never thought I would say it but it seems as though possibly the animals are just a little dumber here in Peru. It definitely appears that they honk a lot more at me, with air horns, right behind me, things like that. It adds a whole lot more stress to riding on roads that are already quite stressful with cars driving so close. People honk so much, all the time here in Peru. I mean the people are nearly completely deaf. People honk at nothing. Taxis driving by, honking. People just honking when there's no intersection, no cars, nobody trying to cross the road. WTF? Even talking to them, lots are almost shouting, can't hear me when I speak. They honk all the time when they approach me from behind on the road. They don't realize that for one, I can hear them lots of times before they even see me. They try to honk thinking I can't hear them coming... quite the contrary. There have been times, quite a few recently, where they are real assholes. The trucks, like all the cars, love to honk at each other. The trucks or dump trucks will honk at each other as they pass, regardless of where I'm at. I'll point or plug my left ear, indicating that fucking hurts when they blast their horn. I'll remove my finger from my ear, then lots of times they'll just do it again right when they pass. It really pisses me off. I don't get if they think it's funny or what, but that frequency and decibel level, it's actually damaging to my hearing. It's going to be so nice having nearly no one on the roads once I get down to the Patagonia area, like how it was lots of times in Alaska and Canada.
I'll continue to rant and rave about the drivers, as long as I'm experiencing the unpleasantness. You have NO idea how bad it is unless you've cycled these roads. How rude the drivers are, how they treat me... It's like my mere presence on the roads offends drivers. They act as though I'm doing something bad by riding the roads. Lots of times motioning with their hands to get off the road. The percentage of drivers that actually respect me as a cyclist, isn't a representative percentage to say that the majority of drivers are bad, it's safe to say that
all the drivers are bad (of course RARELY a truck or car will slow and actually go around). The people honk behind me, to try and let me know they are coming I suppose, but instead of braking or slowing at all, almost always don't even lift their foot from the accelerator.
The drivers are always driving so close. Passing so close, even when there is ample room, lots of times even a whole another lane to drive in. Always nearly hitting me with their mirrors or junk hanging off the back of trucks. In some areas with 2-3 lanes, they still drive in the closest lane to me, honking at me. I will never understand. I mean whenever it is that I'm done with this trip, and if I ever get a car again, apart from stopping to offer a cold drink, food, or assistance to any traveling cyclists... I will give them such ample room, driving as far from them as I can. There's a great saying I've seen and heard in Latin America, trying to get the drivers to respect the cyclists.
Podría ser tu hijo.
Even walking around these Peruvian towns, the drivers seem a bit worse. Almost pure chaos at roundabouts, and intersections. Everyone is honking, driving erratic. Crossing a street, it seems like the drivers will accelerate instead of brake, to try and get as close as they can to hit me.
Latins in general are so much noisier than what it seems like up north. With everything. Besides blasting music, cars really loud with their exhaust and horns, they even talk at higher levels. Lots of times I consider walking around town with earplugs in, so many times I have to plug my ears when the decibel level gets to a certain point. I mean you'll see people standing in front of a blaring speaker, unaffected that the music or noise emitted from it, is enough to deafen anyone. It's no wonder lots of times I have to repeat myself because of how deaf most people seem to be.
Time and again, it's also an interesting phenomenon and cultural difference that Latins live so close to each other. It's not like they have to, even in small communities and towns with plenty of space, they still do. So many times when I've asked to camp on someone's ranch, they are always confused why I would want to go camp (alone) on some soft grass, away from their house, with a view of a forest. Instead of camping right next to their house in the dirt, with chickens and dogs running around, and the noisy commotion of kids and other people. I remember a good example in Quito, sitting in a fast food joint for dinner with 3-4 tables full of people right next to one another, the other side of the restaurant was empty.
Some things I enjoy about the less expensive Latin American countries, they're just so much cheaper for so many things. Full lunches with rice, some lentils or potatoes, piece of chicken, fish, or meat, for two bucks. Fresh mangos from the tree, 2 big ones for one sole (little less than $0.50USD), taste better than any mangos you could ever get in the US. Ecuador might have been cheaper than Mexico, and Peru as well. In Ecuador it was nice to see lavanderias again, hadn't seen them since Mexico - washing, drying, folding my clothes. A big bag for about $3USD.
This trip would be a lot easier if I had the money to stay in hotels and hostels more. Not having to make and break down camp. A hot shower and a bed to sleep in. Not having to cook in the rain sometimes.
Funny when sometimes I'll get lunch somewhere, within a view of my steed. People will pass and stop to stare at my bike. They will stand there sometimes, just staring at it, sometimes mouth open, and/or scratching their head.
I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the word "ya" in Spanish. It's kind of annoying how much it's used frankly. It has so many uses. People use it all the time. Ranging anywhere from "I understand", "already", "I'm ready", "ok", and more...
The temperature change between the elevations is so dramatic, and things are so different. Going from 10c with windchill and some rain, to 20c, to sunny and hot, in just a handful of kms. Going from the mountains where it's cold and taking hot showers, down to the heat where they don't even have hot water, and taking cold showers. Always adjusting to the changing conditions.
Apart from drivers on this trip, dogs, I will never look at dogs the same again. Fucking dogs. Owners and how they don't even say anything when their dogs come running, barking at me. I figure they shouldn't mind then when I stop and get rocks and start chucking them at the mutts (even just stopping and acting like I'm picking a rock up is enough to scare'em off too).
It was a good thing I got out of Popayan when I did because just a little bit after there were some serious protests and road blocks:
http://upsidedownworld.org/main/news-briefs-archives-68/4140-colombia-riot-police-attack-communities-protesting-oil-exploitation-in-arauca-
First arriving in Ecuador was a bit confusing, seeing the Colombian flag all over, on billboards and stuff. I kept thinking Colombia was advertising in Ecuador. Even walking around the towns seeing the flag being flown. I finally found out that the flag is identical, except for the emblem in the center (which lots of times isn't put on the Ecuadorian flag for some reason).
Getting money from an ATM, the sound it makes when the money is actually dispensed, is such a wonderful sound. Lots of times I've gone to ATMS that don't give me money, can't read my card, things like that. That panicky feeling in my gut starts to grow until I actually get the money, starting to think about what I would do if I couldn't get cash, then I actually get it and it's all good.
My wounds from the accident still bother me slightly. The rough scar on my leg from the the deep wound, still itches daily. My shoulder still isn't 100%, it hurts a bit stretching sometimes, and still not as strong. It's real noticeable pushing my bike in the dirt or sand, looking for camp (or leaving). On the right side of the bike, using more of my left shoulder, it's just not the same.
It was interesting in Ecuador meeting so many Argentinians. I've met a few before, but quite a few in Ecuador. It's funny because lots look white and European or North American, but then they speak perfect spanish (with a strange accent actually).
In Ecuador, lots of the mountains I was climbing up, felt like the mountains back home to go up snowboarding. The funny thing is these roads are even a lot higher than the ones back home.
With a greater amount of poverty, it's almost always directly proportional, that the amount of danger is greater. This makes sense that with more poverty, there's more need, need to survive, and sometimes people resort to whatever means necessary to survive. What's surprising is that there aren't more areas like Paijan. With how much poverty stricken areas, it's frankly a bit surprising that people don't resort to robberies when they see tourists with fancy cameras and expensive equipment.
Although there are a lot of things I enjoy about bike traveling. It will be nice after the trip to go back to the easy life, like I've already mentioned. Part of this, is not having to live on the cheap all the time and always being paranoid about my expenses. I'm not looking forward to working really, but having a job is nice not having to think about expenses as much.
Kilometers ridden so far: 20,113.2
