The Long Downhill

I`m going to publish this without pictures really fast so people can see what I`m up to. Pictures to follow soon.

I made the joke a while back that I was tired of this crappy bus service and I was going to bike back to Lima. Well, somehow the idea got stuck in my head and I have biked some of the way back to Lima. It was thoroughly enjoyable and I don`t think I`ll ever take the direct bus again.

It started with the trip to the mountains where I realized that I could bike most of the way faster than our car could drive us. This lead to the realization that maybe I could make it all the way from the high sierra of Huancayo to the coast of Peru. I started to look at maps and sure enough there was a back way to Lima. It took a more cental route through the country and didn`t involve major roads. There were lots of little villages along the way and I decided to head out that way.

The trip started at 4am on Tuesday morning. The car for my destination city of Yaryos left at 5am in the morning and I had to bike to the location in order to get going. I had planned ahead a little and sent my backpack by way of bus to Lima and I only had my small backpack to carry the necessities of water, food, and my sleeping bag (which I have yet to use). I biked with this to the small city of Chupaca (like the Star Wars character), and I set off in a cab. Fortunately, there was a very friendly couple who I was traveling with. He, apparently, was the former Mayor of one of the small towns on our trip and seemed to know everyone on our journey. Everywhere we stopped, he got out and greeted someone that he knew. It was kind of endearing because everyone called him "Tio" or "uncle." Absolutely everyone. They also gave me some very good food and attempted to talk to me in English.





After a very scenic ride over the sierra`s highlands, we made it to the top of the moutains and it was time to get biking. To the bewildered stares of the locals, I hopped on my bike and started downhill. The first hour was all fun. I was biking down a road and flying past rocks and obstacles. It was a rough road, but I was doing fine. The second hour was a little rougher. The vibrations started to travel up my hands and into my shoulders. I quickly learned to grip the handlebars as loose as possible to avoid the bone jarring vibrations. The third hour brought blisters on my hands and a numbness in my feet. This is where I stopped at my first destination, had a little lunch and bought some water.

The descent from the highland sierra into the desert was palpable. I could feel my mouth dry out and could taste the tangy mixture of cactus and dust. My route followed the river the whole way down and the views were incredible. The canyon towered over the river thousands of feet and near the top, there were gigantic rocks that made me salivate to go and climb. It looks completely untouched and amazing.



Another two and a half hours of biking brought me to another small village where I stopped for some more food and to talk to the locals. I went into a small tienda and atracted quite a crowd. I bought a few things and settled in to relax and just hang out. I was able to converse quite easily with the locals. They informed me that the next village had some kind of festival going on and that I should stay there for the night. Initially, I thought maybe this was a good idea, but then the rest of the people in the tienda started to try to sell me stuff. This immediatly made me wary of the previous advice and I decided to hop back on my back. After another hour of riding, I arrived at the party.

It was quite a bit more than I expected. People were packed into the streets so tight that I could barely get by with my bike. There were churches, vendors, food, music, and a whole lot of people. I had grossly underestimated this party. These kind of situations always strike a little fear in my heart because they are perfect breeding grounds for gringo abuse. There are so many people that there are bound to be a few bad apples in the bunch, and the anonymity of the crowd, gives the thief a good cover. I did manage to make it out in one piece and decided to head to the next village to sleep.

By this time, the sun had almost set and I was facing the prospect of biking in the dark. I had forgotten that the seasons are swiched down here and the days are getting shorter instead of longer. Curse you tilted Earth! I did manage to make it to the next village before it got dark, but the city was completely booked up for the festival I had just escaped from. Now I was in an interesting pickle. I could try to bike to the next village and probably have to bike in the dark, or I could catch one of the many combis streaming away from the festival. I decided on the latter option and I`m very glad that I did. I hopped into a combi that was going all the way to my destination city. I`m happy that I did that because as I was riding in the combi, the route started to get flatter and flatter and we even had to climb a few times. This would`ve sucked on my bike. So after getting up at 4am, riding in a car for 5 hours, biking for about 7 hours, and sleeping in the combi for some unknown period, I was deposited at my destination and promptly fell asleep.

The next day, I hopped back on my bike and headed to the beach. I was really looking forward to putting my feet in the waters of the Pacific after having biked down from the mountains. I figured that would be a rather unique experience. I made it to this really cool beach town called Cerro Azul. The beach was black sand and completely empty...except for a ton of seabirds and some local fishermen. I walked along the beach, watched the fisherman haul in some ray-looking creatures, and enjoyed the sunshine.



Unfortunately, as I was leaving the beach, I had my first casualty of the trip. I discovered that the pocket that I kept my little MP3 player in was open and the player was gone. Oh well, every trip has its casualties. It kind of balanced itself out with a stroke of luck immediately afterwords. I caught an insanely fast cab back to Lima. I don`t really know how fast 170 km/hr is, but it felt darn fast. We were flying around cars and swerving wildly in and out of traffic. Most people wouldn`t call this a stroke of luck, but we made it back to Lima in about an hour. The trip is supposed to take at least two. The driver dropped my right off at my hostal and I`ve been hanging out in Lima ever since.

I kinda feel like a cheated on the biking thing. I wanted to bike the whole way back, but it was a lot longer than I ever thought, and the second half of the ride would`ve really been pretty crappy on my bike. Next it`s on to the desert coast and then to Macchu Picchu. Hasta Luego.