It was another occasion where it was this weird blurry situation of separating with Paul and not knowing when we will see another again. So I had a few days on the road alone. It wasn’t as depressing as it may sound. The ride was incredible. It was the route between the two ranges, Cordillera Negra and Blanca.
4,000 something meters morning after I spent the night at a home with the only residents between kilometers of inhospitable highlands. The stretch south of Huaraz was the place where I experienced the most solitude, probably ever, in this trip.
The lonely lake Conococha.
Not a mug shot. Just a photo of some kind Peruvians who gave me a free soup on the house at the Casablanca, a trucker stop.
The road to Chiquian, and further, Huayhuash Park.
Corn kernels dry on the roadside.
My first night alone I was at 4,000 something meters. A kind old lady and her husband allowed me to sleep on the floor of their small home in the middle of no-where’s-ville. It was so cold throughout the night. I found frost on my trailer bag the next day.
View from their front door.
Breakfast with the family in Chiquian at the Huayhuash Hotel.
Downhill rides, ahead.
The little old lady couldn’t understand who I was or what i was doing. She asked if my trailer was carrying milk.
A look over one of the many Andean villages.
Some people leave me no choice but to join them for dinner. Here, at an officer station I was given a room to sleep and a hot meal.
In nearly every village, there are bundles of corn hung to dry. The kernels are served as delicious snacks in restaurants.
Sometimes I choose to camp in villages so as long as I am near company I trust.
Honk if you’re Peruvian. What killed the tranquillity of this ride was the excessive honking. Here, explains why.. it’s encouraged. Sentiments from fellow cyclist youjustpedal’s Tweet: “PERUVIANS – The horn is not a toy. Stop f*#@ing beeping at me. Thank you.”
A landmark known as the Corona del Incas behind me and the local villagers.
Peruvian women of the Andes wear flowers on their hats.
After days of riding up to 4,000 meters a few times and finally dropping into the arid lowlands, I arrived to Huanuco. My host there was Midori. Her and her family were wonderful people to know and they made me feel so welcomed at home. However I got sick, again. Not sure if it was the extreme changes in weather or could be parasites making weekly parties in my system, for the last 3 months.
Aurturo and Auturo Jr, Midori’s dad and brother, shared with me 2000 years old artifacts they themselves escavated in Peru.
Auturo and Midori being cute.
And from Huanuco I took a bus to get further south.. Why and where to? What followed? Find out , on the next blog.