I am starting to think that this trip might be more tiring than a seven day stage race. Those 0500 hr wake up calls wear on you pretty quickly. Our first major ride here starts out with a 4 hr shuttle to what has to be considered an epic adventure.
Where else in the world of mountain biking can you start at an elevation of 3500 m., ride 50 km., and end up on the beach of the Pacific Ocean? The shuttle up on the bus was pretty scary with narrow dirt roads, endless switchbacks and some serious exposure over the edge. We finally started to ride only to hear by radio that the driver had managed to get stuck after he dropped us off.
A quick return to the bus and some very muddy pushing got him unstuck and on his way to the pick up zone. This days ride had it all; rocky technical singletrack, flowy smooth paths through grass fields, steep exposed trails with wicked whoop de dos, and then this really neat kilometer wide flood plain with natural features to jump, drop off, and generally have fun.
We finished at the beach as the sun set, but it was still warm enough for several of us to jump in and get wet.
Our second major ride in Lima had another early start. Wake up was at 0530hr, so we could be on the bus at 0600hr for a long shuttle to a small village. We then had a horse assisted ride to an elevation of 3300m for the start of our ride in the stone forest.
Once out of Lima and heading into the Andes we were treated to the scariest drive I have ever experienced. We followed a river up its valley, and then eventually switched back and started up the valley wall. Looking out the rear of the bus showed that the rear wheels were inches away from the edge of the road and from there, it was often several thousand feet to the bottom, and the river. The valley walls were surprisingly lush and after traversing up one side of the valley we switched over to the other side as we crossed a natural dam and then could look back and see our route. Many of us were showing a brave face but I have to say that all the windows were open and at least one of us had a hand out the window hanging on to the roof rack to assist in quick evacuation if necessary. Literally from the time we left Lima until we arrived at our destination, we were on one lane potholed dirt roads and meeting traffic presented interesting challenges. A lot of the approaching traffic were local busses packed with people and somebody had to back up. Pretty scary! Once we reached our bus destination we kitted up and shortly later our horses arrived for the last part of our shuttle. The horse that I picked turned out to be pretty skittish. In fact they eventually had to hobble him so that I could get on, Hmmm, perhaps this is not a good sign.
As we headed out, I was the only one needing a handler connected to the horse by a rope. Was she leading the horse up the trail, noooo, she was holding the horse back. Hmmm, now I am really getting worried. Off we go heading up the trail. So what about our bikes? Well, the fit Canadians get carried up by horse, and the bikes get pushed by the local kids. Amazingly, several of them beat us to the top. As you can imagine anytime you involve a mode of transportation that has a functioning brain, the set up is ripe for some interesting stories. By the time we were half way up; my fat ass, the steepness of the trail, and the altitude had beat a little of the spunk out of Bucko. My handler then bailed and let me lose. Immediately, Bucko decided that he wanted to be off the front of the pack. About the same time, one of the horses ahead carrying Chris Winter moved a tad too close to one of the handlers. The handler whacked him on the ass and the race was on. Chris’s horse took off at a gallop, and promptly so did a bunch of the rest of them. Bucko thought this was too good to be true. Having been on a horse for a grand total of about 20 hrs in my life, I think that at first we were cantering as the trail was still pretty steep and very rocky. As soon as it flattened out just a bit, we were into a full gallop. My stirrups were way to short for me (Peruvians are not very tall) and it was all I could do to stay on the horse. I started planning exit strategies, but thankfully the steepness of the trail and its condition brought Bucko back to earth. Chris was not quite so lucky! As he passed the guys ahead of us he was teetering a little to the left. He blew by them, and the horse decided which way he wanted to go. Off he went down a different trail to a building we could see and eventually the horse stopped and Chris walked the horse the rest of the way to the top.
Shortly thereafter we reached a really neat natural amphitheatre, and we readied for our ride. It was a short ride out of the amphitheatre to the Stone Forest. It’s kind of interesting rising at this altitude. You start off and feel pretty normal. In about 20 seconds you burn what local oxygen you have at the tissue level and then “bang” you are out of gas. The panting starts and you drop into your granny and spin the rest of the way up. Once up on the plateau we were treated to one of those vistas that just blow your mind.
You could immediately see why this area was sacred to the Incan empire as a religious site. We slowly made our way over to some ruins taking lot of pictures, and then the downhill began.
If yesterdays downhill scored a 7 on the difficulty scale a good portion of todays was about a 9.5 and the average was a good 8.5. Portions were relatively easy to ride and one probably could have nailed them at about 30 kph. The ringer was that the trail in places was about 2 to 3 ft wide and off the edge was a good thousand feet of vertical before you might hit the ground.
Not the sort of place to wash out your front tire. The “fast” sections were interspersed with steep jagged rock gardens that rarely seemed to have the only “good” lines less than 6 inches from the precipitous edge. Add in the fact that you could be ripping along and come around a blind corner and meet locals with a burro train and you quickly get the picture.
We actually had one close call as Bob Faulkner nicked a rock with his front wheel and then did a sort of summersault corkscrew as he went off the trail. Being a smart guy and understanding the 1st rule of mountain biking (live to ride another day) he grabbed for the first available piece of vegetation to slow his fall and let the bike go. Thankfully it was on one of the less “muy empinado (very steep)” pieces of trail, but it still took a good twenty minutes to find his bike farther down the slope. By the time I reached the bottom, I was pretty tired and although I hate to admit it I bailed on the last technical section and took the 10 minute road ride back to the bus. A few beverages for recovery and we were on our way back to home base in Lima. Tomorrow we are off the airport (again at 0600 hrs) for our flight to Cusco and our high altitude experience,
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