Day 12 (4/2)

As I write this we are taking a rest day in the city of Huaraz in north/central Peru. Yesterday was a day of spectacular scenery as we made our up, over and through the Punta Olimpica pass and the associated tunnel.

Punta Olimpica itself is a high mountain pass in the Ancash Region of the Cordillera Blanca range that features a massive glacier and a collection of snow covered peaks. The associated ‘Punta Olimpica’ tunnel, completed in 2013, is almost a mile long and is the highest tunnel in the world at an altitude of 15,535 feet. On either side, the roadway is a beautifully paved road that is a dream to ride on a motorcycle. As I’ve stated several times previously, hopefully the pictures will give you a sense. 

For my part, I might have enjoyed it even more had I not been recovering from a bout of sickness from the night before. Without going into too much detail, I had a ‘bad’ meal that kept me up through much of the night and left me pretty wasted as we departed in the morning. The good news was that the road we travelled was paved the entire way and my condition only partially dimmed the experience of the Punta Olimpica. And, while it was overcast and cold as we made our ascent/descent, we were spared the heavy rains that followed upon our arrival in Huaraz. That said, by the time we arrived in Huaraz at about 2:00 in the afternoon, it was all I could do to get myself under the covers, where I slept for the next 4 hours. NOTE: The hospidaje we found in Huaraz has a actual fire place!

And so, after two weeks of riding we’ve reached our furthest point north. Tomorrow, we will make our way due west to the coast and then spend the next 2-3 days making our way down the coast before heading inland again somewhere around Pisco. We’ll see what the coast has to offer, but our expectations are fairly low. We will be traveling on the coastal highway, traversing Lima and so, from our perspective, this portion of our route is really about getting ourselves positioned for the final phase of our trip. But then, it is nonetheless part of the journey and you never know what we’ll find along the way… so stay tuned. 

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From Claudio…

Allqu*

They roam about, numberless. All breeds and none, so in place, impervious to the rain and biting cold, indifferent to us, riding by. Neither nuisance nor attraction, we just blow like the wind. The dogs stay. Many meander about, aimlessly; many others are stretched out on the road. Yes, the middle of the road. We have to skirt them, they just lift their heads, wink once and return to their angle of repose. Yes Oronda, Papa Lindo is in them. Wagless-tailed, smudged, trim, three-legged, one-eared, collarless, complete, clinging to existence by the sheer, stubborn, immutable power of existence. So in place. In a landscape of stillness, of slow, deliberate, resolute motion, dogs move the space, taking the edge off granite, shifting the solid geometry of necessity, survival, and redeeming us all with their fundamental, quadruped companionship. 

The intrepid dogs appeared on the other side of the Manta Blanca River. After a long, switchbacked climb, caserio after caserio, they were waiting for us, ready to launch a frontal, running, barking attack on the intruding Minotaurs. We didn’t slow down, nor did they abdicate after a few feet but pursued us with the relentless brawn of canine will. Dauntless, stouthearted, they chased us out of their domain and defiantly waited for us to be gone. Gone we were, until the caserio. Papa Lindo must be in them, in us all, notes of a grand symphony.

*dog in the Quechua language

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Faces/Places early in the day

Punta Olimpica