Tumbes to Huaraz

September 29, 2016

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From Tumbes the route follows the coast to Piura.
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Piura to Chiclayo is 140 miles of desolate desert.
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Kept near the coast here in intermittent ag land and sand.
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North of Chimbote, Hwy 123 is a dirt road that cuts over to the Santa River and on to the state of Ancash and city of Huaraz to the west of the high peaks.

After Tumbes, Peru, ten miles of highway leads to the ocean and a scenic, winding 100 mile stretch of xeric but beautiful landscape.  Got a bit of tailwind.  As you turn inland again the scenes could be in Uinta Basin badlands, complete with myriad dirt roads taking off to well pads for oil drilling.  Traffic light, camping easy.  Spur roads that were mostly grown over with dry grass took off to well pads long in disuse.  The first night out was as peaceful as anything I’d seen since Sonora.  No bugs, not terribly hot, clear skies, dying wind in the evening, and best of all, desert-quiet.

Reaching the ocean.
Reaching the ocean.
Beautiful desert camp.
Well pad camp.
All this was at one time extensively explored for oil. I only saw a handful of wells actually pumping oil.
All this was at one time extensively explored for oil.  There are only a handful of wells pumping today though.  The grassy flats are old well pads.

After a sublime night on the desert it all changed. The tail wind became a head wind and over the course of two more days vegetation disappeared altogether and was replaced by blowing sand. Some tough days of deafening, demoralizing headwind followed by nights of sandstorm that permeated the gear, food, clothing, bike.  Ironically though, as far as grinding out continent, the straight roads made for making better time than in Ecuador or Colombia.   At the camps, I chose not to pitch the tent, for fear it would be destroyed, and had to sleep out in it.  One night was especially grim.  I had planned on two long days for the 140 mile trek from Piura to Chiclayo (Lambayeque, actually), but ended up taking two nights and three long days with the headwind encountered. Fortunately, I brought extra water- over three gallons- and had enough to get by.  On the upside there was coastal cloud cover and it wasn’t terribly hot- nights were even cold.

Getting ready for three days on the desert south of Piura.
Getting ready for three days on the desert south of Piura.
Jorge and Lua. They ran a cafe in Piura that served very good, home cooked food. Inside there was a poster of themselves, children and grand children on they're 65th anniversary. I told them my parents made to 68 years but weren't in as good of shape as them.
Jorge and Lua. They ran a cafe in Piura that served very good, home cooked food that I happened onto by accident.  Inside there was a poster of themselves, children and grand children on their 65th anniversary. I told them my parents made it to 68 years but weren’t in as good of shape as them.

Beyond Chiclayo the wind continued until I turned inland south of Trujillo.  A mostly smooth dirt road led to the Rio Santa and a hundred mile canyon topping out at the Callejón de Hauylas, the valley below the mountains of the Cordillera Blanca.  Once on the Rio Santa, the road is one-lane paved but with such course aggregate in the asphalt that much of the preceding dirt road was smoother.  The traffic dwindled to a car every ten minutes or so and the peaks and ridges on either side of the canyon rose many thousands of feet above- Cordillera Blanca to the east, Cordillera Negra to the west.  Rock fall in the gorge can be dangerous particularly when afternoon winds pick, often strong enough to dislodge smaller pebbles.  Riding the canyon on a rainy day wouldn’t be advisable.

Blowing sand
Blowing sand.  That horizontal thing sticking out the back is a car antenna I used for some of the dogs.  I’ve been chased by hundreds of them since crossing into Mexico but generally they run harmlessly along side.  The Peruvian dogs, however, seem bigger and more threatening and I’ve been bitten twice, though they’ve yet to really break the skin.  One dog globbed on to a pannier and made me drag him ten yards before I stopped and he ran off.  Just raising the antenna in the air as they approach is usually all it takes to ward them off.

....and finally here.

Sandy camp.
Sandy camp.
I could usually find a piece of garbage to make a wind screen for the stove.
I could usually find a piece of garbage to make a wind screen for the stove.
Another sandy camp. The pingo-like sand mounds offer a little wind protection.
Another sandy camp. The pingo-like sand mounds give some wind protection.

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Lambayeque. The motorcycle drawn tuktuk said out number cars in northern Peru.
Lambayeque.  Motorcycle drawn tuktuks out number cars in northern Peru.

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These guys are working with wheel barrows and shovels to stem a sand tide.
These guys are working with wheel barrows and shovels to stem what’s essentially a sand tide.
This guy's getting punished for something.
I don’t know what he did but he’s sure getting punished for it.
This little arroyo was fairly well protected but such places were few.
Camp in his little arroyo was fairly wind protected but such places were few.

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Blew hard here but not as much drifting sand
Blew hard all night here but not as much drifting sand.
Mauro from Germany and Emilie from Quebec. Of all the places to meet fellow cyclists. They were coming from Ushuaia and headed to Alaska and we swapped stories for 45 minutes out in the middle of nowhere.
Mauro from Germany and Emilie from Quebec.  They were coming from Ushuaia, Argentina and headed to Alaska.  We swapped stories for 45 minutes out in the middle of nowhere.
Another sublime camp along the Rio Santa. Finally out of the wind.
A great camp along the Rio Santa. Finally out of the wind.

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Rice paddies from an extensive irrigation system fed by the Rio Santa.
Rice paddies and corn from an extensive irrigation system fed by the Rio Santa and Cordillara Blanca glaciers.
Lots of signs along the Rio Santa for archeology stuff. I hiked around a little and found some pot shards.
Lots of signs along the Rio Santa for archeology stuff.  I hiked around a little at one place and found some pot sherds.

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Irrigation diversion
Irrigation diversion
Did some fun 3rd class scrambling on these granite slabs. I'm in great cycling shape but climbing end of things has suffered.
Did some fun 4th class scrambling on these granite slabs.
Getting into the inner gorge of the Rio Santa. There may be 50 to 100 tunnels over about 50 miles
Getting into the inner gorge of the Rio Santa.  Thirty five tunnels over about 50 miles.

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The inner gorge is called Canyon Del Pato or Duck Canyon.
The inner gorge is called Canyon Del Pato or Duck Canyon.

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Huallanca. Hydroelectricity is generated here....
Huallanca, a hydroelectric town….
...and comes from here. 11 km and 300 meters vertically, water from the Rio Santa is diverted into a tunnel the acts as an enormous penstock to drive turbines. Is functions as a dam would but without water impoundment.
…..with electricity generated here.  Upstream 11 km and over 300 meters vertically, water from the Rio Santa is diverted into a sloping tunnel that acts as an enormous penstock to drive turbines. It generates electricity as a dam would but without water impoundment.  A good portion of northern Peru gets power from here.

After several days riding, Canyon Del Pato widens into a valley and a string of towns.  Huaraz is furthest upstream and is where I am now.  The peaks of the Cordillera Blanca loom over the valley like a breaking wave.  The highest is Peru’s high point, Huascaran, at 22,200 feet.  The glaciers of this range are being particularly affected by climate change but you sure wouldn’t know it to look up at them.  The summits are encased in Alaska-like ice caps.

Huaraz is a crossroads for South American climbing and everywhere there are shops and restaurants with climbing themes and dozens of guide services.  The coffee shops are loaded with Americans and Europeans.  Peru has attempted to require guides for its major summits the way Ecuador has, but policies have met with a bit more civil disobedience here from locals and foreigners alike.  Much of the climbing is guided regardless and I imagine it’s a sort of golden age for picking a career as a guide.  On the flip side, the real adventures of original exploration are essentially over and, aside from things like winged suit flying, guiding tourists may be all that’s left.

I had it in mind to give Huascaran a try but knew I needed to find a partner.  Huascaran’s glaciers are far more involved than something like Chimborazo and it’s customary to have at least a couple of people on a rope when climbing through crevasses.  When I got here, though, I learned that climbing had pretty well shut down on all the higher peaks for the season which usually ends in August.  I learned as well that in late July an avalanche on Huascaran had killed several people and there evidently hasn’t been much activity on the mountain since then.  I wasn’t too disappointed by the shutdown; hanging out in coffee shops, resting and eating seemed to be a far more attractive alternative.

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Summit of Huascaran one of the few times it has been out of the clouds.
Summit of Huascaran.  One of the few times it had been out of the clouds.

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Huaraz
Huaraz

In Huaraz I needed also to look for tires and tubes for the bike as well as to order a new touch screen glass for the iPad.  The iPad is in combination with a fold up keyboard that offers good protection, but it’s seen some tough duty.  I’ve rolled over on it at night in the tiny tent a couple of times as well as trapping pieces of debris against the glass when folding it up.  It became a spider web of cracks, amazingly it still worked, but needed to be fixed.  There are several instructional videos on making the repair, which looked doable, but ordering a new glass wasn’t easy.  Anything coming from outside of Peru takes several weeks to deliver (which I suppose precludes offers of care packages, but I sure appreciate the thought).  I found this out only after ordering and paying for one already.  I figured I could spend some time in the mountains waiting for delivery, but not for three weeks.  After long hours on the Internet I found one in Lima but paying for it and arranging delivery required multiple telephone conversations that the folks at the hotel I’m staying, Soledad (www.lodgingsoledad) thankfully took care of.  It took some doing, but the iPad’s like new again.  I bought a second insulite sleeping pad and cut part of it up for a protective case, put together with duct tape.

Anibal, Liria and Francisco Romero were a great help in getting the glass for the computer.
Anibal, Liria and Francisco Romero at the Soledad B&B were a great help in getting the glass for the computer.
Old iPad screen
Old iPad screen

Finding bike parts hasn’t been simple either and the Colombian highways that were loaded with “Olympic trainees” has dwindled to few if any cyclists in Peru, bike shops following suit. In Colombia I never felt quite up to par as these guys would go flying passed me all decked out in cycling outfits and I’d be putting along, in shorts, Tevas, a dirty tee shirt and no helmet.  I’m missing those guys now.  But, after searching a while in Huaraz, I at least found a tire to carry as a spare.  I may not get another chance at a full bike shop until Mendoza, Argentina, a couple of thousand miles away.

From here I’ll take backroads to Cusco over what looks to be beautiful but difficult terrain.  Wi-Fi may be in short supply for a couple of weeks so I may be out of touch. Now that the austral spring equinox has past, I’m looking forward to longer days that will increase both from seasonal change as well as direction of travel to higher latitudes.  I left Logan just after northern spring equinox and the “twelve-and-half-hour day” has followed me to here.  There have been quite a few times I had energy for more miles but got stopped by darkness.

I’ve been a week in Hauraz and I’ll be glad to get moving again.