Day 9 (3/30)

Today was one of those days that invariably occurs during any extended motorcycle ride. It started under gray skies amidst the decaying industrial landscape of Chucchis and nearby La Oroya. From there, our plan for the day was to make it to Huachuco 277Km (172 miles) to the north on paved roads. We knew it would be a long day, but we needed to cover some ground in order to get ourselves positioned to explore the Cordillera Blanca area further to the northwest over the coming weekend, (Believe it or not, we will be halfway through our trip by this weekend and are already plotting how we position ourself for the route back south along the coast for the final 10 days of riding in Southern Peru).

Anyways, we knew it would be a long day when we started, we just didn’t know how long. Shorty after we started we found a dirt road on the map that we thought would be fun to do and might actually gain us some time. We found ourselves on a little used, narrow, two track dirt road that ran upstream along a river. About 3-4 miles in we discovered why it was so little used… a part of the road had collapsed. We briefly considered muscling our way through, but our experience has been where there’s one collapse there are others soon to follow. As you’ll see on the Relive video, we turned around and returned to the main route. 

Once again under way on the main route, a broad two lane highway, referred to as the ‘Carretera Longitudinal de la Sierra Norte’ (kind of rolls off the tongue, no?) we started gradually climbing. As we gained altitude, the skies got darker and we were climbing in a steady rain. Between the rain and the increasing altitude, the temperature began to drop. At this point in the ride, our goal was to reach the city of Cerro de Pasco, where we planned to get lunch. What we hadn’t fully realized was that Cerro de Pasco sits at an altitude of 14,500 feet and by the time we got there the temperature was in the low 40/upper 30’s as the rain continued. If the city of Cerro de Pasco is not ‘the’ armpit of Peru, under slate gray skies and pouring rain it presented itself as one of the prominent armpits. To further add to our misery, we found that we had to make our way through heavy traffic and flooding streets to the center of the city to find a decent restaurant.

We were there long enough to get a meal and thaw our extremities before struggling to find our way back out of the city (see Relive Video to observe how lost we were). Mind you, I/we are not complaining. From our perspective this is part of riding motorcycles. The ‘good news’ about riding a motorcycle is that you are exposed to the elements, the ‘bad news’ about riding a motorcycle is that you are exposed to the elements. If you choose to ride as we do, enduring cold, wet weather and dealing with navigational challenges while coping with traffic is part of the deal and so you cope with it.

The good news was that after enduring the climb to Cerro de Pasco and making our way in and out, we found ourselves on a steady downhill ride for the next seventy miles to our final destination of Huanaco. Over the course of 70 miles we dropped from 14,500 feet to 7,000 feet and the temperature rose from the low 40’s to the upper 60’s. Upon arrival in Huanaco we were dried out and pleasantly surprised to find ourselves in a bustling and very attractive city. We checked into the nicest hotel we could find on the Plaza de Armas (for a grand total of $65), had a great steak dinner and are looked forward to a good night’s sleep before tomorrow’s journey further northwest towards the Cordillera Blanca area. 

Claudio asked to include the following reflection with today’s post;

“Suddenly, in a seemingly random spot, in a place surrounded by nothingness, he stops, draws his camera and shoots. And shoots again. I look at him, I look at what he is looking at and only see a piece of that nothingness, just more country. Not completely pleased with the angle, the distance, the light -or something he only knows- he walks a handful of steps away, lifts his chin and waits, or stands over a boulder, climbing rocks, then, content with the arrangement, he shoots whims and wishes at a landscape that slowly becomes his own, mirroring, I now suspect, what he may carry within. When I see the photos, the outcome, the sequence, what I find is an extension of his being. Here he is fully alive. A poet. A poet of image, serving no purpose, seeking no reward, just pursuing that which is pure, universal. There seems to be a latent composition everywhere he moves, awaiting the eye and will of an artist to find form, to coalesce, to simply make sense without explanations. We ride on, we climb, descend, I turn around and he is not behind me. I lost him again! No, I didn’t, he is lost to that composition holding his soul and helping him make sense of this being here.”

NOTE: Between the businesslike nature of the ride and the weather conditions, there are only a handful of photographs for today. Will try to do better tomorrow :).