Day 1,075
Adios Cusco (again)
So finally we could leave Cusco. We had been here so long we had our favourite restaurants, coffee shops, had met and made friends with fellow tourers passing through, reconnected with Silvan, met his dad (just need to meet his sister and we will have met the whole family). Eddy, our mutual friend from Cuenca, turned up too. It was turning into a real party.
This wasn't what we were here for though. We're cycle tourers and it was back on the bikes for us. Despite good intentions I hadn't done much exercise other than stroll to said coffee shops etc., so feeling somewhat unfit we hit the road. Tom hadn’t managed even that, just laid back in that dentist’s chair, mouth opened wide. Fortunately I hadn't really studied what was to come, otherwise I'd have hightailed it straight back to that coffee shop!
It was a fairly easy start, an 11 miles blast downhill on a cycleway that would take us out of the city. We retraced our route out of Cusco that we had ridden many many weeks before. At the small town of Urcos we turned left and headed uphill. Tom had mentioned we would be crossing the Andes, but somehow it didn't seem that bad when I sat drinking wine, eating pizza, and chatting with my new bezzies!
I tried to ignore just how steep the road was getting and instead focused on the positives. We were cycling past the Cordillera Vilcanota mountain range, or in the indigenous language of Aymara, ‘Willkan Uta’ or ‘House of the Sun’. At over 80 km long it was to be our constant companion and inspiration for the next few days. Back in 2016 the Peruvian government passed a law to try and ensure the original names given before the Spanish arrived are not lost so I will aim to use them here.
The highest peak is the name also given to the range, Willkan Uta (Ausangate) at 6,384 metres dominated, but the whole range was simply breath-taking. With over 469 glaciers, many many more snow capped peaks, it was truly inspiring and we needed every bit of help along the way.
Over 3 days we made our way up, down (seriously why on earth couldn't we just stay up?) and back up again. The first two days were steep, at around 9% and 10% and as we climbed the air got thinner. Day one had been an easy start, then after 30 miles we simply went up, just under 3,000 feet in 5 miles, we weren't at the top, but at 12,000 feet I had had enough. We set up camp outside a covered football pitch and sat back and enjoyed the views.
Day 2, and we started with a super-steep section, just short of 2,000 feet in 4 miles. It was brutal, I'm not sure how I managed to keep pedalling. The road (30C) certainly helped. Peru and Brazil have created a highway to form a road link, the Interoceanic Highway, linking Peru’s Pacific coast to Brazil’s Atlantic coast, which in total covers 2,600 kilometres. The idea was to increase trade, which so far has not been as successful as was hoped. What it meant for us two hardy cyclists though was a fantastic road surface with little traffic. Not quite what the government spent all those millions on but we were very grateful all the same.
Then it was down, then back up again, though not as high, then, yes you guessed it, repeat. We found a lovely wild camp spot by the River Tinqui and settled down for the night. 2 days climbing done, just one to go, and tomorrow promised to be easier, yes 22 miles of climbing but not steep. I expected a better day, oh how wrong can a woman be?!
The climb was a kinder gradient, it simply and steadily went up. No flat bits, no little downs where we could gain a bit of momentum to help us with the next up, no, just onwards, up, up and up, forever more. By around 15 miles I was spent. I walked as much as I cycled. We stopped for lunch, I had no energy to eat. This was stupid. Still I carried on. The mountains tried their best to inspire me, but I was so past being inspired. I just needed this to end. I contemplated hitching but there was so little traffic, and when a suitable vehicle passed I always seemed to think “I can make this by myself.” Tom, with his far heavier bike was in superman-mode and seemed to have no problem. We were over 15,000 feet and getting enough air into my lungs seemed an impossible task. Then we reached the top, 15,509 ft. This was no false summit either, from here it was DOWN! In just over 20 miles we descended 10,000 feet, down into the mist, we wound our way through switchback after endless switchback. The landscape changed from snow capped peaks to towering hills swathed in trees.
We had reached the Amazon. We had ridden over the Andes. I was spent. We stumbled upon a hospedaje and booked a room. I ignored yet another meal, rejected the shower, waved a toothbrush in the general direction of my mouth, and collapsed into bed. I couldn't sleep, think, speak, I just lay there too exhausted to do anything.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
