Switchbacks

These mountains are so steep, enormous, imposing, intimidating, daunting. These mountains are not the domain of man to travel through. They belong to creatures with surer footing or with better means of travel, goats and eagles, swifts and snakes. But humans, I can attest, need to go everywhere. As a race we were born for it. The horizon always beckons. And so we have taken to these mountains. The idea of which is just silly, loopy if you will, and these roads, folding over themselves as they try to climb higher, are the physical manifestation of the absurdity of trying to move among the giants. I find the roads to be beautiful. Art on a grand scale. Conquering the impossibly steep slopes with a gentle ribbon of asphalt.

I've been climbing mountains. There is no avoiding them nor do I want to. I've been following single lane dirt roads until I am way out there. Way out there is a day when no vehicles pass me, I talk to no one because there is no one to talk to. Only the alpacas and maybe an unseen shepherd join me at the lofty heights. I crossed a pass at 14,439 feet (4734 meters). The mountains and clouds stretched away in every direction. A cool wind brought the only sound. It was beautiful up there. The way down was steep and gravely. Too steep to ride safely so I walked holding my brakes. There was a lot of that. After 6 hours and 7000 feet of descending I crossed a narrow fast flowing river then started up the other side into a series of winding switchbacks. Mountains are wonderful for wandering. 

While I wasn't climbing high I have been following small packed dirt roads across mountain faces. They are cut into nearly vertical mountain sides. Most days I get a few clear views but usually I am deep in a cloud. The wall on one side of the road disappears above me into a heavenly white. A car width away the cliff drops abruptly, disappearing into eternity. The roads trace the contours of the mountains, going deep into ravines where the stream washes over the road. Small villages appear a few times a day where I stop to get a plate of warm food and bananas. There are always bananas.

 This was a good place to wake up.

 In the mountains now!

 Flowers for you.

 Purple flowers for you.

 Switchbacks!

 My smile is not quite this big on the way up.

 Where large streams flow over the road sometimes there will be a pedestrian bridge.

 Another floor for you.

 Peru roads are so fun.

Even more flowers to brighten your day.

 Twice on this road I was stopped waiting for rock slides to be cleared..

 A giant cemetery.

 I feel adventurous when a road has this much grass growing on it.

 New friends! Thanks for the drink.

Dreams do come true

I'd like to talk about my hammocks for a moment. My first hammock was an original Hennessy hammock. I bought it in 2006 for a 1200 mile jaunt on the Appalachian trail. Seemingly, I was an early adopter as I met almost no one else using a hammock. I have since heard they are quite popular on the trail. My second Hennessy hammock was their extra large version. A sharable size, I bought it for a bike tour across Washington and Oregon with a girlfriend. Washington and Oregon are a hammockeer's paradise. My third Hennessy hammock I am in right now as I write this, the ultralight model. To this point it has accompanied me across 26 countries in nearly 550 days. I've slept in it over 400 nights. Worn ropes, worn zippers and ant attacks have left it functional, but haggard. Now, Hennessy Hammocks is generously sending me a new one. Inspired by my journey they are happily supporting the cause. A sponsorship if you will. That is to say, I am sponsored by a hammock company to sleep in a hammock. Dreams really do come true.

Now onto Peru. This place is great. At the border I entered into a low dry area inhabited mostly by goats. No leaf or bud existed anywhere below three and a half feet. As I continued towards the coast the landscape became drier until I was crossing a lifeless coastal plain of sand and wind and sun. The environment was harsh and grating and I could see it in the small towns I passed. One evening, just before I disappeared off the road to camp, I was stopped by police. They informed me that no hotels, no civilization really, were around and that this section of highway was unsafe. With that they poured me a cup of Inca Cola, lashed my bike to the roof of their Nissan and drove me to an intersection where I was handed off to a passing flatbed truck and finally deposited at a patrolled toll booth. After being driven across miles of serene, empty, moonlit desert I camped next to the noisy road under a floodlight. It was not my greatest night of sleep. In the morning the police planned to escorted me 20 miles into town. After a mile they became bored of my pace and so we leapfrogged each other until I arrived.

It wasn't long before I left the desert in favor of mountains. I climbed for four days along a river and then up the side of a mountain, gaining over 12000 feet before pointing downhill. I am starting to get acquainted with Peru's love of switchbacks. These mountains are steep, they have no choice but to embrace switchbacks. I think they're great. Going up is just as fun as going down.

Rolling through a small town one morning I stopped at the town square to eat my breakfast and saw a sign welcoming the president. I asked a woman sitting on a bench, "The president of what?". "Peru" was the answer that came back with a smile of pride. He was arriving that day to give a speech. It seemed like a rare opportunity that I decided not to miss. A couple hours later his helicopter passed overhead and shortly thereafter he arrived to a crowd of a couple hundred. Dressed in jeans and a white dress shirt he looked like a man of the people. When he spoke his words were powerful and filled with emotion, his gesturing large and his cadence perfect. I couldn't help but cheer. I had no idea what he said. He wasn't reading road signs aloud or asking where I was coming from or going to so his speech fell well outside of my vocabulary. Later I joined a crowd to look at his helicopter. It was pretty cool.

 Welcome to Peru!

 I found Barney.

 Barren coast.

 New police friends.

 This is why I quickly headed to the mountains.

 The climbing begins.

 And continues.

 A triple switchback.

 Still higher.

 A Peru flower for you.

 Switchbacks!

 Topiaries are very popular here.

The presidents ride. 

For those getting this blog by email I saw that the videos are not attaching so here are the links. Ecuador and Columbia. 

The last of Ecuador

I don't believe my words can accurately express the feeling of biking through the Ecuador mountains. A typical day found me sleeping high on a ridge, 10,000 feet or more above sea level. In cool thin air I would awake between lovely trees with a view of the world. When the effervescent mist flowing around and below cleared away on the dawn light I would pack up and start biking. Sleeping on the ridge always let me start the day on a downhill. It was never long before the next valley to cross would come into full view. The river, far out of earshot, could be seen small and glittering nearly a mile below. I would leave the ridge and for an hour I rolled and weaved without pedaling, stopping only occasionally to admire the view that was amazing at every turn. When I reached the river the air was warmer, thicker in my lungs and dense enough to have crushed my water jug. I would cross the river, pausing to admire it from the bridge, then for the next four hours of biking I would climb. The air would thin out and cool, the sun crossed the sky lighting the valley from the opposite direction, clouds would come and go. Usually I stopped for lunch, somewhere with a view or a small restaurant that always served chicken and rice. As late afternoon turned to early evening I would crest the next ridge with strength and resolve to spare. Pausing there I always turned to admire chasm I just crossed. I could trace the road, a white scar cutting the green mountain, down to the river and back up right to the place I camped the night before. Feeling accomplished, high on endorphins, happy as could be, I would finish the day. In cool thin air I would find lovely trees with a view to hang my hammock.

 Flowers for you.

 Clouds ahead!

 Loja castle.

 Cell towers often times have the best view around.

 Nice hair!

 Ingapirca ruins.

 Ingapirca stonework.

 Ingapirca again.

 Street tar artists are my favorite. It comes about from the rare combination of an artist having the job of filling in road cracks with tar.

 This was an excellent meal.

Camping with a view. 

Some time lapse video I took in Ecuador.