January 03, 2003
Puerto Chicama Peru to 25 de Mayo Argentina
We spent two nights in the beach town of Puerto Chicama with Peter and
Kay Forwood. During the full day we spent at the beach we all went for
a ride on the beach. Unfortunately we decicided to head down wind of
the fish processing plant and after only a few miles Todd and I decided
that the stink was too much to put with so we headed back to the hotel
to give our bikes some TLC. A few hours later the Forwood's Harley
showed up being towed by a 125cc three wheeler which was quite a site
to see. It tuns out that their much abused drive belt finally broke
after 60k miles. While seeing that giant piece of iron being hauled by
a 125cc bike was pretty funny you've got tip your hat to a bike with
over 200k hard miles on it and I know for a fact that my chain and
sprockets wouldn't last a 1/3rd as long as that drive belt as my chain
was starting to stretch at an alarming rate.
The following day was the day that Todd and I had decided to split up
and while riding out of Chicama into Trujillo we ran into the 3 French
Amigos who left New York city only a few days after we left Virginia.
So while Todd would be deprived of the company of half a Frenchman I
felt confident leaving him in the company of three full blooded ones.
After splitting with Todd I got into mile munching mode and rode close
to 500 miles from Trujillo to someplace
south
of Lima. I had read many warnings about the cops around Lima and true to
form I got waved over and was informed that I was breaking umpteen
traffic laws (ok,ok, so I was breaking umpteen traffic laws you got a
problem with that?!) after being informed that the book was about to be
thrown at me it was suggested that I just buy the two fine upholders of
law and order dinner and all would be forgotten. So for 20 Nuevo Soles
(approx 5 dollars) I was on my way. I found the whole experience rather
amusing and since it's the cheapest speeding ticket that I've ever
gotten I didn't mind in the least.
Not having a map of Peru I figured it was only another 500 miles
to Cusco so I planned on making it there that night and headed out
early in the morning with my sights on the horizon. Things went great
until I got off the PanAmerican and starting heading into the mountains
to Cusco. After 50 miles or so of non stop switchbacks climbing from
sea level to 13k feet the clouds closed in and starting dumping some
bone chilling rain upon me. So after only 300 miles half of which where
on seriously twisty roads in less then ideal conditions my only thought
was to find shelter for the evening so I could stop shivering. After
spending the night in a tiny little town in a tiny little hostal I got
an early start for the last a300+ miles to Cusco approx. 100 of which
where dirt or construction. while the early part of the day had me
riding across the Alto Plano (aka High Plain) at over 15k feet in near
freezing temperatures I spent most of the day following a valley which
ran most of the
way to Cusco which
provided me with some much welcome warmth as well as beautiful scenery.
While I thought I had arrived in Cusco in good order it only took a few
minutes for me to realize that I was sick as a dog. I had originally
planned on spending two nights in Cusco so that I would have the chance
to visit Machu Pichu but since I spent 24 hours of my 36 hours in
Cusco sleeping I decided to skip the ruins
and spend my few waking hours replacing my chain and sprockets and
getting a new rear tire.
After some much needed rest and recuperation for both myself and my
bike I headed out of Cusco under blue skies towards Lake Titicaca. The
ride to
Puno was wonderful and I spent the
next morning visiting the floating reed islands on the lake before
making my way to Copacabana Bolivia.
Copacabana
seemed like it would of been a nice place to spend a few days but I only
had the time to get my bike blessed before heading down the road to the
salt flats of Uyuni.
On my way to Uyuni I passed by La Paz and decided to ride down into the
valley that it was tucked in to check it out. Bad idea. As far as I
could tell there is only one way into and out of La Paz and I of course
lost my way on the way out and spent numerous hours riding very steep
dead end cobble stone streets while being chased by packs of dogs.
After about 4 hours of this I finally made my way out of La Paz and
immediatedly had a flat tire. Then it began to hail. So I made my way
to the nearest hotel and when I asked how much a room was for the night
it took about 30 seconds to get an answer so I figure the price at
least doubled but I really didn't feel like I had much choice at the
time so I spent the evening in my overpriced and very noisy (just above
the disco) room wrestling with my rear wheel. The next morning I put
the wheel back on the bike and continued on my way to the salt flats of
Uyuni. I made great time on my way to Uyuni and spent about half of the
day on various dirt roads, tracks and wherever I felt like pointing the
bike and made Uyuni at dusk. A lot of the dirt roads however where
rather harsh washboard which tried to rattle the fillings out of my
teeth and when I reached
Uyuni I found
that the bracket for my tail light had snapped and that the light was
hanging by only two of the three electrical wires as the ground wire
had broken also.
That night I checked my map and guide book and realized I had ridden
right past the Salar of Uyuni (The worlds largest salt flat) so I
decided to take the road less travelled and instead of riding back and
across the salar like everyone else does I would get completely lost in
the trackless wilderness of Bolivia on my way to the Chilean border.
Actually that's a bold faced lie as I got completely lost in the the
track filled widerness of Bolivia. It took
me over 10 hours to cover 160 miles and I dumped the bike 8 times. 6
times in deep lose sand. Once in foot deep mud and once amongst big
rocks. I can't even began to recall how many times I was sure I was
gonna crash but somehow managed to recover. I finally reached the
border at nightfall. The border consisted of a train station on the
Bolivian side with about a dozen building scattered about and on the
Chilean side was a booming metropolis of about 3 dozen buildings. The
immigration officer on the Bolivian side was a very nice guy and and
gave me a very generous exchange rate and when I inquired about a
hotel/hostal he offered to let me stay at his house for the night. I
declined and made my way the couple of miles to Chile where I found
some rooms in the back of a bar/restaurant. These rooms where about as
bare and drafty as you could imagine but after the previous ten hours
they seemed like heaven. When I signed the guest book I noticed that
all of the other guests came from the 4 corners of the earth and where
mostly bicyclists!
On Christmas Day I made my way to the northern
Chilean town of Calama. Where according to
my guide book it has never rained. While walking through the main plaza
of the town they where playing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" by
Bing Crosby. Since it never rains and the temperature was in the hight
80s the only way these folks are gonna spend a white Christmas is to go
sit in the middle of a salt flat.
I had hoped to make it all the way to Salta Argentina the following day
but after stopping in San Pedro de Atacama for lunch I discovered that
I had gotten another flat tire. So I found a cheap hostal in this very
popular tourist town and took my rear wheel to the local tire shop to
have the inner tube I repaired in La Paz put on the rear wheel.
The next day I left San Pedro around 7:30 in the morning but didn't
make it to
Salta until 11 in the
evening. I discovered that there are no gas stations between Chile and
Argentina and I felt very luck to be able to make it to the small town
of San Antonio after travelling 278 miles on a tank of gas. This
included about 3 miles of coasting down through the mountains in order
to save gas.
I spent the morning in Salta buying new tubes and getting my Monster
tube repaired and put back on the bike. I then wound my way through the
northern wine country of Argentina and across some beautiful mountain
passes to the city of Santiago. The next
day was the 29th and the day I had originally planned on arriving in 25
de Mayo so I headed out early in an effort to make it their at a
reasonable hour. I ended up riding 550 miles that day with the first
two hundred being in constant rain. I thought I might still make it 25
but an hour after dark it started raining again so I decided that
discretion was the better part of valor and headed back to a motel I
had seen up the road. It turns out that this was an auto hotel also
know as a love hotel. The price was listed as 15 pesos which I thought
was pretty reasonable as the two other hotels I had stayed in in
Argentina charged 20 pesos. However just as I was going to sleep the
phone rang and I was informed that my time was up! I explained that I
need to stay the whole night and so ended up paying another 22 pesos
which made it the most expensive hotel I've stayed in Argentina. Oh
well, the candies and condoms beside the bed are a nice touch.
The next day I made to 25 de Mayo to see my brothers family and inlaws.
It was nice to see family again and meeting the wonderful people of
25 de Mayo. While I was in 25 I got
the chance to see a my first
polo
game and ride a horse again for the first time in 20 years. I also spent
a day washing off 13k miles of dirt and repairing most of the damage
that the
bike suffered while in
Bolivia. While I was there the local newspaper came to interview me
which was very cool. If you read spanish you can view the article
here.
Off to Bueno Aires.