It started here two weeks ago and seems like two months. Every day packed full, every day packed well. That so much could occur makes us think a spell, and then think a little more.
Riding at 15,000 ft in Peru.
The first day out rode well, up into the mountains to get in gear, to see just what this altitude thing was all about. Back at dusk and to the top of El Moro, where the Chilean forces stormed the hill and took it from the Peruvians. They say a thousand men died in the battle, and that the Chilean soldiers themselves turned against their leader when he went too far, some say crazy, in the ensuing slaughter of civilians in town. There's monuments here, a beautiful view of the city sitting peaceably by the ocean, and the spirits of honorable, though dead, men.
Arica, Chile
Day two took us north across the border and into Peru. Crossings are a BIG DEAL, necessitating a handful of forms/papers and maybe half-a-dozen different stamps at half-a-dozen different windows. That gets you exited from Chile, where you then drive a couple hundred yards and repeat the process entering Peru. The Peruvians do it their way, though, just to make sure no one mistakes them for Chileans. Different buildings, different paperwork, different uniforms. The faces look quite the same though... Moquegua is a vibrant, dusty city stretched out in a fertile river valley. With dogs and chickens extraordinaire. The dogs at 2:00AM, the chickens at 5:00AM. Maybe we were too far out (on a hill on the outskirts overlooking town), but I sense if we would have been closer-in it would have been car horns and car alarms. Everybody here loves their horns, and if they're not honking them four times a block they're not really driving. And the alarms? They're show-off items that need to be shown regularly. With thousands of cars and thousands of places to go the city is quite the cacophony. That the city seems to never sleep is the last thing that needs to be said.
Day three took us to Arequipa, where on day four the volcanoes took my ankle and tweaked Diane's ribs. But they were beautiful volcanoes, and we forgave them with little thought. Kevin & Keleigh and Ed and Phil came back to see why we hadn't arrived at the crossroads, and they waited/assisted while Jaime tried sorting out the bike. No avail. Getting a GS (about 700 lbs)into the back of a high-riding four wheel drive pickup is quite the ordeal, especially with no ramp at hand. But ingenuity sparked quite well and with not much a-thought the truck was backed to a small sand mound, the bike was wheeled over, and with great effort was finally lifted/wrestled in place. I thank them for their dude-i-tude, for they, too, missed seeing Colca Canyon by participating in this endeavor. The problem was diagnosed with a special diagnoser later that night at the hotel compound. A companion group going the other way just happened to have one with them. The problem was a faulty fuel sensor, which was promptly ordered from the BMW dealer in Santiago, flown overnight to Arica(about 1,200 miles), then taxied overnight to La Central (about 400 miles ), eventually catching up with us early in the morning there. Took 15 minutes to install.
La Central, Peru
Day five was the ride to La Central, where everyone rode motos but me and Diane. We got to ride in the truck. But it was good for my ankle and good for her ribs and good for us to spend time with Jaime. Plus the air conditioning worked as did the radio, so we listened to music and practiced our Spanish and Jaime practiced his English and all went merrily along. Great guy -- wonderful man -- good ride. The place we stayed was rustic as hell, but in a really good way (they specialize in river rafting). Diane and I took a limpy walk to the river, but didn't realize it would be 500 feet down to the water. Mostly sheer cliffs, so we just stood there and admired. Struck up a conversation with the man who owned the field we just trespassed, who let us know we hadn't trespassed at all -- this land really belongs to Mother Earth, he's just care-taking it for awhile, as did his father and grandfather and great-grandfather before him. He had all he needed, and welcomed our presence greatly. Shaking hands felt of the ages, and the gentle hug Diane got brought a tear to her eye. This was of her father, and we could tell he stood nearby.
Day six took us out to the coast at Camana (on the bike again!), where the Colca River (by then the Majes River) empties into the ocean. Pretty dramatic setting, pretty dramatic town. Had great fire-grilled chicken overlooking the street, where the gear-laden, lined-up bikes were getting their own share of attention. Damn, who's the _ _ _k in town? It was then up the coast to Puerto Inka, on what they call the Panamericana Highway. The road's carved into the mountains as they plunge into the sea (just love that phrase; must have used it five hundred times). But they really do, in a really dramatic way, and it's the only way to describe it. Puerto Inka is a small. sheltered inlet that was used by the Inca for the catching/drying of fish, which were th en run up into the mountains on the Fish Trail, relay style, to Cusco. It's said the run took three days (it's about 500 miles, going from sea level to 11,000', not counting all the ups and downs on the way).
Pan-American Highway, Pacific Coast
Day seven continued up the coast to Nasca where we did the acrobatics in the Cessna. There was one stretch (60 miles?) that was heavily duned (some of the largest in the world), and the dunes kept trying to reclaim the road. In spots there was only about six feet of open pavement, and the sand warning signs off to the side of the road had just their tops sticking out. You certainly had the feeling the dunes were going to win, and you hoped it wouldn't be today.
Day eight took us inland to Chalhuanca and the beautiful terraced terrain of the populated Andes.
Day nine was the serene roads/villages in the morning and the afternoon/evening blockade runs. Can still see those determined faces, hear those rallying chants.
Day ten was the train ride to Auguas Calientes and then the magnificent Machu Picchu, making the day before so worth it. Left a part of me there; took a part of it with.
Day eleven was the colonial city of Cusco, where we shall return.
Day twelve was the high road to Lake Titicaca and the floating-island-living Uros people.
Day thirteen was down the mountains to Moquegua, great sweeping twisties that had us entertained all day. Crossing the pass was cool, too (cool as in brrr and cool as in wow), as it's 16,400' of elevation had us gasping for air and seeing almost forever.
Road to Moquegua, Peru
Day fourteen brought us back to Arica and an evening dinner once again. The dinners we're always a fest, a long celebration of accomplishment, big smiles and camaraderie. Bob and Jennifer from Colorado gave a hilarious performance with oddball teeth and funny glasses, handing out Colorado caps and Elvis glasses (with sideburns) and an envelope full of money that had been collected to Jeff and Jaime to tip them for their duties-well-done.
Across the table was Scott, all six-foot-five of him large in spirit. He's a mining engineer, specializing in extraction when the easy stuff's been taken out. He's worked/traveled all over the world, has great stories to tell, and is one of the most interesting men I've ever met. He's a laid-back dude from Virginia, was on the End of The Earth ride a year and a half ago, and we truly hope we'll get a chance to ride with him again.
Next to him was Ed, a Harley dude from Michigan. That doesn't really capture it, but you get the idea. Rode really well on stuff he's not used to, and playfully beat the hell out of me one day at the gas station when we were queuing-up the bikes and pushing them forward and I remarked 'Typical Harley dude pushing his bike'. He called his wife what seemed like nightly, and I guess she knows it but she's got a hell of a man.
Kevin & Keleigh are homies from So Cal (Tustin) who represented really well. Looked glued to the bike the entire time, even in falling over together. Kevin showed us a time or two he can really handle a bike, impressing us greatly on his blasts thru the junk or powering out of the duff. Keleigh's a sweetheart with always a smile, who greatly brightened the ride.
Kevin and Keleigh
Jeff leads and follows and does everything in between. Unflappable nature, ready smile, strong dude. A couple of times he stepped forward to see if we needed a hand or to take our bike or rescue it in the tough stuff. He's Phil's right hand man, in the right and hand and man sort of way. He was a major presence on last year's End of the Earth ride, a good guy to be around, and a friend.
And then there's Phil, the owner of Motoquest Tours and the one who led us around. Led is not quite the right word, for it's too small to capture all he did. He brought us here, was a step ahead at every juncture, and was way out in front with a big set of balls when it came to confronting the blockades. What can we say but Thanks, dude. If it wasn't for you this wouldn't be. We'll seek you out again.
Santiago y Elena and the Riders of Peru
