From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

After two false starts, we finally left Lima Monday morning. It took a little time to get out of the hostel where we’d been staying for so long. The staff watched us load up the bikes, impressed by all our gear. They gave us lots of advice about what to eat in the mountains, since lots of travelers get sick going through there. They also gave us a bag of coca plant leaves – it had been left by some Germans who wanted to take it home with them, but customs there would have confiscated it for sure! Here, they either chew the leaves like tobacco or brew it in a tea, called “mate.” The tea is an appetite suppressant and also gives you energy, and it is used to stay awake and help with altitude sickness. And of course, the staff wanted to take lots of pictures with the “loco” (crazy) French couple who are biking from Alaska to the Tierra del Fuego! With any luck they’ll put our pictures up on the hostel’s website!

On our way out of Lima we stopped at a bike store. Our bikes are holding up pretty well, but they do seem a little tired. One of our tires totally gave up the ghost, even though it had been in perfect condition. It’s hard on the bikes to be carrying all the extra weight. The manager saw us arrive and came out to shake our hands. We were impressed with his formal greeting – we’re not celebs, just regular people. We needed a chain and two spokes, just in case, since we were headed out of civilization. He gave us lots of good advice in terms of what to buy, and then gave us the spokes for free! Before we left, he wanted to take our picture with all the employees, and said he’d put it up by the cash!

Leaving Lima was dreadful. The collectivos – those mini buses – drive like they own the road and regularly squeezed us over to the side. We zigzagged all over the place, buffeted by the noise and the crush of other cars. We practically suffocated in all the exhaust fumes, and our throats were raw. We nearly wiped out a whole bunch of times when the drivers forced us off the road, yelling out “rapido, rapido!” It was only slightly uphill, but enough that we struggled, and made slow and painful progress.

10 km outside of Chosica we finally got out of the “garua”, the foggy cloud that blankets Lima and the surrounding area for 9 months of the year. We pulled up to a gas station and two police officers came out to talk to us and warn us about Peruvian muggers. We asked them about Chosica, where we were planning to spend the night. They drew us a map on a scrap of paper with the two best hostels that we should go to. We thanked them, and surprise, surprise, they wanted to take a picture with the “gringos”! It seems to be the pattern of Peruvian police to take pictures with all the cyclo-tourists that they meet. (Remember the border police who wanted their pictures taken with all the cyclists that went through!) We tried to get their email address to send them the picture, but they didn’t have one. Oh well, they said, at least we would have a reminder of them.

We continued on our way. The last 10 km weren’t really difficult, but we were feeling pretty tired. We figure that we were still feeling the after-effects of being sick.

Just as we were getting into Chosica (820 m high), we saw a biker pass us going the other direction, then turn around and pull up alongside us. His name was Fernando, and he told us that he had seen us earlier in the day when he was on the bus, just as Sara was being attacked by a dog and had to slam on the brakes to avoid getting bitten. Fernando is a national class cyclist, and is famous in Peru. He told us that he meets lots of cyclo-tourists, and that he invites them to stay with him at his parent’s house. He invited us there too, and after a bit of hesitation, we agreed.  They gave us a very warm welcome. It was a beautiful colonial style house, and he gave us a large room and our own bathroom. Fernando had plans that night, and so asked one of his parents’ employees to take us into town to eat. We were a little suspicious at first of the locally prepared dishes, but the employee ate with us. We ate well, although felt a little strange about the whole arrangement. The next morning we slept through the alarm, and so saw Fernando only briefly before he headed off for work. We thanked him for his hospitality, and he told us his Mom had made us breakfast. What a luxury! Thanks again, Fernando, and thanks to your parents!

We continued our climb. This is day two, and we’ve covered 44 km and 1600 m in altitude. Not a single downhill, either today or yesterday, only stretches of false flats that we count as a “break.” The kilometres tick by to the sounds of the trucks, cars and minibuses that pass us, not beholden to the road as we are. We had two serious scares: one when a truck nearly ran us off the road, and another when an oncoming car decided to pass a truck right in front of us. The problem is that there’s no shoulder by the side of the road, so we hug the cliffs on the right.

The landscape is changing as we climb higher and higher. The dusty mountains of Lima are giving way to more greenery. The surrounding peaks seem to tower further and further above us, and the valley sinks deeper into the earth. We feel so small and insignificant. There are water jets along the “Carretera Central”. The road runs alongside a river that has been very cleverly exploited by the locals. There are water jets that spring up and offer “salon services” to the cars coming in and leaving Lima. They also cool the overheated engines or breaks of the cars going up and down the mountain.

We planned to spend the night in Matucana (2400 m high) and we arrived there just after dark. It was a bit of a struggle to get there, although the road really wasn’t all that steep. But really, after going uphill all day, there comes a time when your legs have had enough! We crammed ourselves and our bikes into a tiny room, with no room left to move. It’s gotten colder, and what we really wanted was a hot shower, but alas, no such luck. And there’s no heating up here, so after a cold shower we climbed into bed, huddled under two blankets.

San Mateo: We’ve been dreaming of this little town, 3200 m above sea level. We’re planning to rest there a day to get used to the altitude. But there’s still 20km to go, and 800m up! We climb, and climb, and climb. We’re a familiar sight now for the truck drivers, and they encourage us, like old friends, and we really appreciate the support. We finally made it to San Mateo around 3 in the afternoon, and after a quick tour of the town, we decided on a little hostel, noisy despite being off the main road. We waited while the manager made sure the room is cleaned – so far so good. The sign outside said that there was hot water, but we didn’t want to get our hopes up… And yes, the electric water heating system crapped out and it was a cold shower again! This time there were four blankets on the bed. We put on our fleeces and headed out into the town – strangely quiet in the middle of the afternoon, but a busy place in the evening. The internet connection is slow, maybe it’s a little frozen too. It was a typical little mountain town, not a lot of other “gringos”.

We have finally understood that in Peru the word “gringo” isn’t as insulting as in some of the other countries we’ve been through. Here it means foreigner more generally, not just the unwelcome Americans. So we’re getting a little more used to the moniker… well, we’re trying anyway.

Sara