Plenty of months ago I thought about buying an Around-The-World ticket. hard to chose a route with the restrictions of places and miles. Peru was one of the five destinations I wanted to see and experience, the rest sould have been a nice add-on. Canada, New Zealand, Nepal/ Tibet, Island and for the five spot a nation with latin flair. It somehow became Peru. Nations like Venezuela and Columbia had a bad reputation. The news weren't inviting. Brazil and Argentinia seemed to be not as adventuring as Peru. If I am honest, I don't really know why my fascination was fixed on this destination. Might be Machu Picchu. Might be the Llamas and the Titicaca Lake, the nice alpaca ponchos or just the sound of the name?My expectations were high. Quebec, the francophone part of Canada, totally comply with its beautiful nature and people. Peru would be the next on my list to be inspected to test if my theories are steady.

 

What happened in the north of Peru is following:

 

I left Macará, Ecuador to the beach with flat tire. The day I arrived at the hotel I had yo repair it after 11hours bustouring. I thought I found the whole but I had no functioning pump. The next morning I took my front tire and hitched a hike to the only open place at this already late hour. I wanted to catch up with the others, usually I won't start at 10 o'clock. Anyway, I leant my bicycle against the little migration station, lead by one man. This guy took a 15min phonecall while I waited for my stamp. Enough time for my tube to decide to deflate again. I flicked 5 holes! What happend on the rocky 3m in front of the migration? The military stopped a pickup for me and another time my backtire and I cruised through Macará. As I arrived at the border which is as usual in Latin America, a bridge, the military waved me over for a picture and said it is obvious that I shouldn't leave Ecuador. "It's so much better here!" He invited me to his family in Quito. After all this trouble, I almost believed him. Peru was 112meter away. I crossed and cycled with a bright smile direction south. This joy last just 20km until i had to stopp again. I had my next flat tire and could not believe my misfortune on a day I woke up with the plan to pedal as much kilometers as possible. It was already beginning to be afternoon. I pulled over and found two mechanics who repaired my tires professionally and send me south without asking for money.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I passed the border to Peru a week ago. Since then I experienced a lot...the north is inhabited by the friendliest people. I felt good untill I reached the Panamerican Highway. Not just the headwind made my life difficult, the people aren't nice at all anymore. After passing the border, the flora changed totally. Suddenly I cycled in a desert! Just sand, dunes, headwind and me. In middle of the desert lives a guy since 37 years. Once, there was a little river livin the area and the government promised to renew it. It never happened but he is still there and welcomed me with cookies and a nice chat. Paijan is famous for robberies, shooting on cyclists and more. Lots of people take a bus, I decided to cycle that bitch. You leave the desert into an area characterized by bushes, just before the city begins. I have to admit that my thoughts were just about one topic, the robberies. I stopped for some fruits at the first possible location. I wasn't ready with paying as the lady next to me called d the police "there is a tourist, he wants to pass through. Please send a convoy..." Okay, that convinced me! I took place and waited until a police car took me 2,5km to the beginning of Paijan. I already was in the scatchy area... Seriously, the cornfiled just after the city is even more dangerous and contains more potential to be robbed. The desert continued and showed me my limits. After two 160km days, passing the 10000km and all that tiring wind in this desert, I arrived in Trujillo without any energy left. Joanna and Garret were still there."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trujillo is famous for the ruin of Chan Chan. I skipped it, did not even notice it on a map or searched for information about sights around this area. Passing trough this desert was enough adventure. I found my little space to rest in the first existing Casa de Ciclista in South America and slept happily in my tent. One day rest and I convinced Joanna to head into the mountains direction Huaraz. Brian, an Californian cyclist, became our next third-man after Garret decided to stay some days more in Trujillo. We founded fast a new collective and started our project: "From sealevel into the sky".

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I head to go from zero to 4884m direction Huaraz. With me, Jo and a new cyclist companion named Brian. The route through the canyon of the Cordillera Negra should turn out as breathtaking.

 

"Finally, after 70km Panamericana, we could ride our bikes on a privat road for a shortcut which lead us to a further south accessible road to Huaraz. It took us three kilometer to be astonished by the scenery and we found a gorgeous camp spot for the night. I felt like on the Mars. The next day we cycled more and more into the black mountain range, Cordillera Negra. It becomes a narrow canyon with lots of tunnels. The dirtroad challenged our gear, the heat burned my skin, the water sounded back from the walls of the canyon. This place is toprated in my entire trip. I seldomly experienced such a gorgeous nature. I slept under the stars, your life is beautiful if the last thing you see is a shooting star before you fall asleep."

 

Quote by Trevor, Motorcyclist:

 

"On the spectacular road north, about 100 miles into the dirt section, I see a cyclist coming from the other direction. I've met quite a few cyclists on this trip, and usually stop for a quick chat if possible. Brian, from Los Angeles, is cycling with 2 others, who are back down the road a bit. As they approach, I see a flash of red hair from one of them... Joanna?? My Scots friend and I have been crossing paths ever since Mexico - this is the 4th time, and by far the most remote location. With her was Axel, who I'd met in Ecuador. It was getting close to time to camp, so Axel gave me the job of going 20km to the next town to get beers, while they rode a couple of km to a mostly-abandoned village to find a camp spot. Here's us in the mud brick building where we camped..."

 

Waking up in an abandoned house in an almost abandoned village was a great second camping location. The night before we met Trevor, a motorcyclist Jo met the fourth time since Mexico. We drunk some beer and enjoyed the freedom of this place. The new morning lead us towards the Cordillera Blanca, which is named of the plenty snow capped mountains. But until there we had to cycle 10km dirtroad in a narrow canyon, passing 35 tunnels, the river flowed just a few meters under us. Suddenly we had asphalt under our tires. It felt nice and necessary after all these kilometer of hard riding. The canyon became wide again, the snow capped peaks surrounded us. I felt challenged and free. A location kissed by beauty.

 

"I am writing this by recalling events which are just one week ago, but it feels like months. The bunch of memories, the beauty I was confrontated with is a blast. Coming out of this desert, a fight against wind, totally on your own, I was suddenly cycling in a canyon which can't be better described as breathtaking. A dirtriad took us from sealevel to Caraz at 2300m. We passed the Cañon de Pato and entered the Cordillera Blanca, famous for it's beautiful snow capped mountains. As usual I got informed by others why this area is so famous. Brian planned to trek, it sounded fun so I became part of trekking the Santa Cruz Trek which is supposed to be one of the nicest in the world."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DAY 1:

"We started at 2800m to end up on 3750m where we camp. A huge snow capped mountain was far away as we cooked our dinner on two stoves. The sky was clear, the sound of nature surrounded us. The water of the rivers comes directly from the snow mountains...I was happy and wanted to see more of the white mountain range."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DAY 2:

"After leaving the camping we were astonished by the turquoise water lake. The valley behind had a surprising steep climb till we found our second camp spot. Surrounded by 6000m snow capped mountains, included the Paramount Emblem one, we felt into a deep sleep on 4250m."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DAY 3:

"Three persons in one tent. This method was the reason I survived my trekking. Normally my gear is not good enough for these heights. But I could sleep in my shirt in the night, the other bodies warmed the air enough to feel comfortable. We woke up in rain and hail. With all I had, A pair of long underpants, a mask and two pair of gloves we began our Ascent to Punta Union. The hail changed yo snow, we climbed. In the valley far down a wonderful rainbow colored my pauses I needed while the steep climb in an altitude my body never experienced before. Since two days I pushed my limits. Every meter was a new experience and my body felt good with

The Santa Cruz Trek is gorgeous. Everyday has its special views. But in the end everybody does it for the overview over the numerous snow capped mountains. We reached the peak in snowfall. Total overcast. It was still a impressively occasion cause I trekked on 4750m. But of cause, to see nothing but clouds was little damage todo my soul. We took the descent into a nice valley. Again, the mountains surrounded us while we slept in the wildness. It was magnificent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DAY 4:

"The last day. Descent, just two hours of walking. I slowed down, took my time to pass a village with a nice community. Stopped to have a look in a special farming product: guinea pigs! What is a petting zoo in most nation is a meatstore in Peru. To look at these creature and remember the markets where they are barbeque in one piece made me a bit sick. We continued and I found myself climbing steep hills, in long underpants. I got nude on the trail.What a relief. 2hours waiting and seven chocolate bars later, we found a bus who took us back on the mainroad. The ride was fantastic, dozen of serpentines with a view on the second tallest mountain of the Americans. Every mountain was snow capped and gigantic. In the valley appeared the two famous turquoise lakes. We stand in the hallway for almost 4hours and had to bend over to see good, what wasn't easy on a shaking bus which speeds over the dirttoad. Just before we arrived the tire exploded and my soaring arms and tired legs got some rest while the bysdriver changed the tire. I looked down the valley in which 20000 people died in 1970 as victims of an earthquake. Due to the large amounts of snow and ice included in the landslide and its estimated 20000 fatalities it is also considered to be the world's deadliest avalanche. A strange place to get a flat tire."

 

Back in Caraz I set up to cycle direction Machu Picchu, still 1700km in the Andes to go. Unfortunately I had a flat tire and patched it with all my love. As a result of a defect pump I pulled over at the first gasstation to optimize my tire. I blow up both tubes. The first exploded in an earsplitting noise, the valve of the second tube decided a minute later to release the air while I told the others I have to hitch a hike to Huaraz, there I expected bicycle parts. My rim was deformed by the power of the explosion. After two hikes per 10km a first-class bus waved me over, the rest was a comfortable ride into Huaraz, there I found the necessary parts in the last shop.