From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

Yup, 4828 m! That’s what the GPS said this morning at the top of Anticona, called Ticlio by the locals. After five days on biking, 145 km, and one day in San Mateo to get used to the altitude, we made it to the top. It was awesome reaching the summit.

The day after San Mateo was short but hard. As we climbed, the cold really started to get to us, and we put on all our warm clothes.

We arrived in Casapalca a bit by accident, thinking that the town was a little further up the road. It’s a mining town, not at all attractive. The mountain is mined for copper, lead, and silver. There were two hotels that we could see, but neither looked particularly promising. We asked around, but the response from the locals was unanimous: not exactly world class, but those were the only two places in town. At the first hotel, that one that was supposed to be less bad, the women told us that they were full. We were sceptical, but left to check out the other place. The woman there grudgingly showed us a room. It was dirty, the sheets unwashed, and the communal bathroom was disgusting. There was no shower, but it didn’t matter since there wasn’t any water. And it was 25 soles (US $8) for the privilege of staying there. We turned down the room and considered camping, but it was already freezing out and not even dark yet. We asked some of the locals, and they confirmed that the temperature drops below zero here at night and that it snows regularly!

We bought some groceries from a little corner store staffed with three very nice women. We went back to the bikes, and then on second thought, headed back in the store to ask if we could camp on their property for the night. They said no, and referred us back to the two hotels. We decided to head out of the town to camp, but just as we were leaving, the youngest of the women came out and told us that she had a room where we could stay for 15 soles. We were only too happy to sleep inside and we accepted right away.

Her name was Aleda, and she was 21 years old, with a 3 month old baby and a husband, Mario, who works in the mine. While we waited for him, she invited us into their “apartment” – one room, about 100 square feet. The sink and bathroom were one floor down, and we didn’t see a shower. We were freezing, even wearing two sweaters, but not a single home up here has heat. While she cooked on a little gas stove, she told us a little about herself and her life here. She keeps house and takes care of the baby while her husband works 8 hour shifts, 7 days a week (although Sunday is optional), alternating every two weeks between day shifts and night shifts. He makes 850 soles (US $280) a month and they pay 150 soles (US $50) in rent. When Mario came in, we talked with him about France and Peru, and we showed them our road map. Mario was totally transfixed: he couldn’t believe that the names and places so familiar to him were written on this piece of paper that we had bought so far from here.

We slept well, nice and warm tucked inside our sleeping bags with two Alpaca wool blankets each.

The final day of our ascent was incredible. It was cold, but not unbearably so. We went slowly through the thinning atmosphere. The landscape was magnificent, and the mountains were coloured in reds and yellows. Some peaks were snow-covered. Around 250m from the top, Sara started to get a headache, but she took some aspirin and that helped. Strangely, the altitude didn’t affect our appetite, although it often happens that way. We ate 150m below the summit, admiring the beautiful view.  Then only a few twists and turns later, we reached the snow-dusted summit. It was exhilarating and we were bursting with happiness. There were a few locals working there, and they shared in our celebration. We basked in the moment, filming and taking pictures. Then we geared up for the descent: Gore-Tex shell, gloves, hats.

Over the course of the climb we really appreciated the support and encouragement of the motorists and everyone else on the road, including car washers, farmers and miners. We send out our thanks to them, they were a great help!

Going down was incredible. The landscape was sublime. We biked alongside a lake of the most gorgeous blue, the colour of which seemed to change as we descended. It was amazing!

We arrived in La Oroya, a town with the unfortunate reputation of being one of the most polluted places on earth, poisoned from the toxic waste oozing from the lead and arsenic refineries.  We had been told to go quickly through the town, breathing as little of the polluted air as possible. But, in the end, the air wasn’t as bad as we had been led to believe. We found a little hotel where the owner was friendly. The next day, Sunday, we went into town and saw the infamous factory, and there was no smog coming from the smoke stack. We learned later that the factory has been essentially shut down because of a dispute between the workers and the owner. The owner was refusing to comply with security and environmental standards, and the workers were asserting their rights.

We descended another 85km into the Rio Valley, and we are staying in Jauja tonight, in a hotel owned by Bruno, a lovely Frenchman. The landscape is still very beautiful, but the motorists are a little less friendly on the way down. In Peru, the car that is passing has the right of way – whether or not they can see, and regardless of a solid double line! We narrowly avoided an accident on three occasions where we came face to face with a car passing a truck. It wasn’t that the drivers hadn’t seen us, they had. And they chose to pass illegally anyway!

Sébastien