67. Aprovecha! Aprovecha! One last hurrah.

Into the final stages now. Summoning my last reserves of motivation and encouraged by other cyclists to aprovechar the majesty of Peru's mountainscapes, I'm digging in to cross the final high passes of the trip. What reward for my efforts!

 I had a great rest over the weekend in Chiquian, the village to the right. The snowcapped mountains in the background are the Huayhuash. Time for reading, listening to podcasts and chatting with the hotel owners. I also had time to clean up my drive chain and tighten up my brakes that were dangerously loose on arrival. I'm sure Bertha's going to make it through to the end of the journey. 

 I'm in the fortunate position of having no time pressure to reach Lima so was able to do some off-road exploring. 

EXTRA IMPORTANT POINT: passed 20,000 km on this day!

 I more or less chanced upon Laguna Yanacocha at 14,400ft / 4400m. 

 Not a bad lunch spot. After a hefty climb out of Chiquian I stopped for the day at just 19 miles and...    

 ...took the opportunity to hike around the perimeter of the lake. 

 Very fortuitous, a locked up abandoned building had an accessible area perfect for camping and storing my kit. What may otherwise have been a very chilly night was cosy and (relatively) warm. I slept pretty well until 5:30am when I was rather unceremoniously woken with a flashlight pointing at the tent and a gruff voice demanding to know what I was doing there and that I was on private property, a space reserved for fishermen. He said a lot more but it was too early to be translating Spanish. I decided to stick my gringo head out of the tent and explain that I was a cycle tourist looking for a place to camp and meant know harm. I meekly, and with very little conviction, offered to leave there and then, in the cold and dark. All my apologetic remonstrations softened his tone, he asked my name and nationality and told me to simply move on later in the morning. Very reasonable in the end.

 And what a glorious morning it was. Brilliant blue skies and a fast warming sun melted the ice in the puddles and I lingered over breakfast basking in the sun on my palace's veranda. 

 Despite seeing this kind of view almost daily I still find snowcapped peaks absolutely breathtaking.

 Laguna Conococha.

 Distant flamingoes.    

 Beginning the Conococha-Chicla dirt track route detailed in the Andes on Bikes webpage. 473km with very little tarmac ahead of me. Somewhat daunting but this is my last hurrah, the final opportunity to do some challenging riding and see some incredible landscapes.  

 Like this.  

 And this. 

 Small villages along the way were strangely quiet and seemingly almost deserted.  

 Quick lunch stop. 

 Rustic timewarp. That would be a great album title. Or maybe not.  

 Bertha's fan club.  

 Andean roadblock.  

 Idyllic campspot. The mountain range in the background includes Silua Grande, the peak Joe Simpson climbed in, I believe 1985, before the descent went horribly wrong. Touching the Void, perhaps the best documentary film ever. Mountain climbing? Not for me, I'm happy to slog it out on a bike through the Andes.   

 Llipa Viejo, another village where I didn't see a soul. 

 Beginning the long descent into a deep canyon. 

 Getting drier and more barren. The road surface deteriorated, rocky, loose gravel and soft sand. A slightly always, massive concentration is needed to stay safe and, even so, I took one tumble escaping with just a few slight grazes.  

 Somewhere down there is the bridge.  

 A happy cyclist. 

 Ditto.

 Desert scape. 

 Finally made the crossing.   

 A few more miles along the canyon, the sound of turbulent water roaring in my ears.  

 Lunch spot at the bottom of the descent meaning it's time to go up again.

 Though it's not immediately obvious from this picture, I got a break, the road surface in the climb towards Cajatambo was actually really good., hard packed and(relatively) smooth.  

 A helmet would be useful here...

 Why was I not surprised to come across the umpteenth landslide I've encountered in Peru? Unload the bike, a few careful crossings back and forth, five minutes later and I'm on my way again. 

 Slow bus to Lima? 

 Now I wouldn't recommend this and haven't done this since the States and Canada but my best option last night was a roadside camp. Flat ground is in such short supply around here that I really had no choice. Still, it's so calm, rural, safe in these parts that I had absolutely no qualms about camping there and no one bothered me whatsoever. I'm also utterly confident that I can sweet talk my way out of any bother with my humble tale of adventuring by bicycle from Canada. It gets people every time...

 None shall pass. Except Bertha.

I decided to make an early start this morning, not wanting to stick around the roadside camp. 

 Riding from 7am in the cool morning air, brilliant blue skies, spectacular landscapes with the satisfaction of knowing you've already climbed a lot of those switchbacks, it was quite simply inspirational. I truly felt on top of the world. Shall I go for another 11 months? (no chance!) 

 Donkeys are usually very skittish and easily spooked so I approached slowly to get this perfect family portrait. 

 Yes, all those switchbacks, I rode up them. 

 Sebastian from Belgium, on the road for 16 months, about 5 more months to go. He too was having a great day, he too had recently had moments of doubt, of having had enough. We had a great conversation and encouraged each other to aprovecha make the most of our remaining time. 

 In truth this was a ride I didn't want to end, but this is the approach to Cajatambo, the village you see in the background. 

 Bertha resting in the grand gateway to Cajatambo where I'm staying tonight. 

Six more rides on dirt, two rides on tarmac and I should have made it to Lima. Aprovecha! Aprovecha! Make the most of your remaining time and don't forget that the hard way is usually the most memorable and rewarding way.

66. Great success - OXFAM fundraising target reached!

   

I am delighted to write this post having just surpassed my fundraising target. What a generous lot you are! To still be receiving donations ten months into the trip is incredible and a huge motivation to keep pushing on and attack challenging routes. The fundraising page is not closed so, if you're a regular reader and haven't donated yet, it's your turn now! Repeat donators, your kindness and support is simply inspirational.

OK, onto the blog. I wanted to post more photos but slow wifi has limited me to a choice selection of recent highlights.

 After three days off the bike in Caraz I had descended into the doldrums and really didn't feel like moving on. 'I've already ridden 12,000 miles, do I really have to go on?' As a compromise to myself I decided to ride the Winchus Loop, a 56 mile route with 8000ft of climbing, unloaded and as a day ride, rather than a two day journey. It was great fun and it felt liberating to be riding so light.   

 These peculiar looking plants are puya raimondii, a local tourist attraction and the largest species of the bromeliad family.  

 Bertha resting on the road south to Huaraz. Having foolishly lost my helmet last week I had to take care on the busy main road, riding evasively and going off the road whenever the vehicles behind sounded too close.                 

 Three weeks on from my last stay in Huaraz the weather has improved significantly so, to save a few soles, I decided to camp in the garden of Jo's Place. There were a few other cyclists there to share stories and advice with. I particularly enjoyed talking with the bikepackers Franzi and Jona. They have a really cool blog here: tales-on-tyres

 After another two days off the bike in Huaraz I was really well rested and, finally, motivated to move on again. More OXFAM donations during that time helped kickstart me into action! Heading south from Huaraz I rode for half a day with Beatrice from Milan. I'm so impressed that she ride over the Punta Olímpica and Portachuelo de Llanganuco passes on her Brompton bike, only three gears! Not only that, she's going all the way to Ushuaia. 

 Our paths divided here. Beatrice continued on the tarmac South while I headed east on the dirt road towards the Pastoruri glacier. With the jagged skyline of the snowcapped Huayhuash Mountains in the distance, it was a thrill to be on rough terrain entering an uninhabited wild environment.   

 The friendly staff at the Carpa ranger station allowed me to camp in the grounds of their visitor centre. The wall provided some shelter from the chilly winds but, with clear skies, what a cold night! I had to put on some emergency extra layers as I shivered through the early hours of the morning. To be expected I suppose, Carpa is at over 13,500 ft / 4100m. At least the clear skies continued after dawn and soon the brilliant sun revived both body and soul.      

Bertha dwarfed by a mature puma raimondii.    

 Spectacular, otherworldly landscapes. 

 The turnoff to the Pastoruri Glacier. This area is used to promote the issues surrounding climate change.  

 Like other glaciers I've visited on this trip, there is a series of posts to mark the extent of the glacier in previous years; like other glaciers Pastoruri's retreat is alarmingly rapid. It will be such a pity if future generations don't have the opportunity to see these incredible natural features. Unfortunately, at current rates of retreat, previously glaciated areas will be ice-free in my lifetime. I hope more enlightened leaders will continue to put pressure on Trump to recognise his responsibility to the  Paris Treaty. It's remarkable that there is such international consensus on an environmental issue and it's vital that the USA commits to this agreement.  

 The path up to the glacier took me to 16,449 ft which is just over 5000m. I've only ever been this high twice before, in Pakistan  in 2006 and in Ecuador in 2012. Sadly, Bertha had to stay behind in the parking/reception area at 15,900ft.   

 Riding on from the glacier the dirt road was mostly in very good condition and, though I was at high altitude, the climbs were rarely too steep. I think Franzi and Jona went this way, setting off a day before me. I'm sure it was their tracks I saw in the road.      

 Last time I crossed a land slip I was too lazy to unload my bike and ended up slipping and cutting my legs under the weight. Lesson learned! Bertha fully unloaded and the rocks were crossed in several trips, slow but unscathed. 

About 5 miles on I met a motorist coming the other way and I warned him about the land slip. He wasn't having it and didn't believe me, he thought he could get through! I explained and explained the nature of the land slip and in the end showed him this photo. It clinched my argument and he turned around.   

 Up at the 16,000ft / 4880m pass the weather had really closed in. To call it a snow storm or blizzard would be exaggerating a little but certainly there was driving sleet. I layered up, put on my waterproofs and rode in. No shelter in sight so losing altitude was the only escape. As I descended it started to brighten up a little and I had a choice, ride on 10 miles to the next village and stay in an hospedaje or find a camp spot.   

 With just three weeks left of my journey I really want to extract as much from the experience as possible so I decided to camp. How many times will I have the opportunity to camp in the Andes at 15,400ft / 4700m? And, as you can see, the weather improved with a couple of hours of glorious sunshine. A delightful camp, listening to Nick Drake and Blur, all was right with the world in this moment! As the sun set I braced myself for the night ahead... 

 Rather than leave spare layers next to my sleeping bag, I went all in and layers up from the start. For sure I didn't sleep well, just a few snatched hours and minutes here and there but, with cloud cover, it was warmer than the previous night. Relatively at least.

So I woke up to this spectacular snowscape and was glad to have had the experience of camping so high.  

 The wether brightened so I got up to make breakfast. Then the sleet came back. Standing in the cold and wet, suffering a little to be honest, never had coffee and porridge tasted so good!  

Decision time again, retreat into the tent and wait for the bad weather to pass or break camp and ride on down the valley. I was already up and moving so I chose the latter.  

 In truth the first hour of riding was pretty miserable, my shoes and gloves are not waterproof so my hands and feet were numbed by the cold and wet. However it was a steady descent on asphalt so I lost altitude quickly and was soon in warmer and drier climes.

 What a machine. Sleek, powerful and beautifully balanced. The bike's not bad either! 

A 35 mile half days ride took me as far as the tranquil village of Chiquian  from where I write this post. I checked into a quaint little guesthouse, settled down to watch the FA Cup Final on cable TV and felt very smug and satisfied with myself. Until I realised I didn't have my waterproof jacket with me. I seem to be on a mission to lose my gear at the moment! A 1.5 mile dash back down the road and I picked up my jacket from the roadside, I'd left it behind after a call of nature. 

 With all the expense of returning home looming I'm trying to be a little frugal so the stove gets used even when I'm staying in guesthouses/hospedajes. 

And, do you know what, I'm pretty proud of how I've done this trip, completely self-funded and always trying hard to keep costs down. I camp when I can,  otherwise staying in cheap accommodation (personally, I don't think staying  in expensive hotels would add anything to my experience). If I stay with people I try to make a contribution, cooking, helping out with chores, paying for meals when eating out. I try to eat like locals, never in fancy restaurants and I cook for myself in hostels when I can. Bike maintenance, I'm no technical expert but I try to do the best I can to keep Bertha on the road by myself. As for luxuries, well I think I've had five beers since I've been been in South America, that says it all! 

So, unlike some other cyclists, I don't ask for a penny towards my travel budget and make a real effort to travel in a way that means I can remain self funded. All contributions go directly to OXFAM and I'm delighted that I can have this amazing adventure and make a small contribution in the fight against poverty in the process. 

Three weeks to go!