The Mountain People

I finally left Cusco on a Monday, after getting some work done on my bike, rear cone adjustment and overhaul if you really must know. That guy cleaned up my cassette so well I almost payed for it as a new one. I can´t recommend the bike shop across from Hostel Estrellita enough. I think it´s called Planet Bike on Tullumayo and Santo Domingo.

I don´t like spending too much time reading maps, so both times I left Cusco I used just a compass to find my way out. Luckily it worked 2 out of 2 times, though I didn´t know if I was going the right way for over an hour. My mission for the first day was to make it just 30km to Urcos.

On the way to Urcos I found some pretty awesome ruins, Rumicolca, just next to the highway. It was an Incan wall with a great view of the mountains behind it. They had some rocks sticking out of the wall that formed stairs, and nobody was around so I climbed to the top. Up there I saw what turned out to be Peru´s friendliest archeologist approaching me. I was not allowed to be up there, but I had to ask him that. We went through the usual friendly introductions, what´s your name, how old are you, etc. Eventually he tells me to ¨[verb] your things.¨ And we got stuck on that for a while, I told him I don´t know what [verb] means, and eventually I left. Turns out he was telling me to get my shit off the ruins(!), but in an entirely too nice way.

The main square at Urcos cracked me up. They had a Iwo Jima style statue of old school Incas putting in place the gay pride flag. I think rainbow flags must have some other meaning here.

Urcos was way too easy, it was all downhill, so I decided to try for the first mountain pass that afternoon. After some grueling uphill riding I was seeing stars and had to sit down for a while. I decided I´d find the next tiny town and free camp there, since I was almost out of water.

Free camping in Peru is kind of spooky, but I got used to it. As long as you don´t mind invading some street dog´s territory, you´ll be alright. Within the first hour a dog will be barking at you from the woods, and all night long you´ll hear dogs howling. Otherwise it´s the same as anywhere.

The next morning I went into the town, and talked to some of the most naive people I´ve ever met. I´d give them a 5 out of 100 for knowledge of their own backyard. I didn´t ask, but I bet they knew their own names, so that´s 2 points. They knew their own town of 100 people had a store, so that´s about 3 points. They had no idea where the next town was though, or at least I couldn´t get it out of them. Turns out it was maybe 20km away in the next valley, but over some rough uphill terrain. I also asked if there were llamas up that way, and they said no. Three hours later I was photographing a pack of wild llamas near the summit.

I wish the llamas would have been around earlier, I really could have used their help carrying my gear uphill. At first they let me get within 5ft for photos, but once they figured out I was trying to catch them they started running more. I really didn´t have the strength to pounce at 4050m elevation. With a lasso it would have been a done deal though, next time!

The next town was Ccamarcca. I was an alien to those people, got some strange looks. Food was extremely cheap though, six banannas and four pieces of bread for 60 cents.

Down the road a few kilometers, basically connected, was the friendliest town of the Andes, and I don´t know the name of it. I showed up right when school was out, and that´s something that´s hard for me. High school girls here really have a thing for me. Really Peru, that´s such a cruel trick, that´s the wrong demographic!! I am not into that, I could have very well booked a trip to Thailand but I didn´t, this is Peru. My visa says on it you have 90 beautiful days in our country to stay away from underage girls, or you´re going to jail.

So I´m rolling through this town at 3900m elevation and I´m pretty much 1950s Elvis Presley. Packs of girls are staring and giggling absolutely psychotically. One girl threw some sort of traditionally colored cloth at me, but she missed and it flew behind my back. I assume that´s culturally the same as bras on stage at a Who concert. It wasn´t just the girls either, soccer games were interrupted another minute down the road for way too enthusiastic waving and whistling. And then the road turned uphill just as I came upon some really young kids. I ran out of steam and was talking to them breathing heavy over my handlebars. Their curiosity burned up my vocab in minutes. I was the first gringo they´d ever seen, so if you go to this town you can be the second.

About 1km later I found a nice place to camp. I heard some sort of hoofed animal in the night walking around, never found out what it was. The owner of the nearby shop was an extremely friendly guy I had met on the road the night before. He gave me 30 cents off my purchase and free candy.

My tent was apparently set up on some Quechua path into town because at 6am my neighbor, an ancient man, stopped by to say hello. I opened the door and let him see La Casa del Gringo, and I think he offered me breakfast but I was still fearful of local cooking, so he said ciao.

I had visitors about every hour until I left. The second set was a weathered woman with a baby in a colorful sheet on her back. She wouldn´t let me photograph her, but it would have been so perfect with the mountains and all. Had to be there. There was a second lady too, and they were obviously talking about me in Quechua, but Spanish would have gone right over my head too.

Then there was this weathered man who came by twice. His teeth were as black as lead .22 rounds, and the brass casings must have been below the gumline. There was no bling to his smile, no whiteness at all. It must not have been painful, he couldn´t have been happier or more friendly. He tried to sell me a scarf and some things out of a plastic shopping bag, but I already have too much gear so I had to pass.

My campsite was on a small hill in a valley surrounded by mountain houses on the inclines. There was nowhere to hid using the bathroom, so plenty of people had a chance to see my bare gringo ass.

Eventually I grudgingly set out for the kilometers I had to make that day. It was a second mountain pass, not as high as the first, but I was worn out and the shops didn´t have much appealing food. My spaghetti turned out really bad the night before when I ran out of water, but a one eyed dog with ESP was right there when I threw it out, licked it all clean off the ground.

Heading up the next pass, a van full of construction workers slowed down for me. The same ones who made fun of me the evening before for my slow progress. They let me skitch off their van for 2km and wore my arm right out. It almost got me over the top though. Felt like cheating, but why not take a free ride paid for by the state of Peru?

The next town, Ocongate, wasn´t nearly as friendly as the last. The children just stared while I ate my Bolivian candy and whispered to each other. I figured out how to buy coca leaves here. It´s not at all stores, so you have to ask around. It´s under the counter so you have to ask the lady or 7 year old working there, and you get about a half ounce for 30 cents. And it´s so addicting, now that I´m down from altitude it´s been completely neglected in my bag for days. Tastes like grass, as in your lawn.

I had a pretty good campsite here, great view of a snowy peak and next to a wide stream. Before I fell asleep there were flashlights on my tent and footsteps. I gave and ¨Hola¨ and I got back, ¨Hola, policia! You speak eh-spanish?¨ My conversation with them went perfectly, one of the few. They said the people of the town didn´t like me there, I never figured out if it was one person or all of them. Luckily they were ok with one night, so they left. The next morning I found some pisspoor ruins within a few hundred feet, maybe. It could have been a foundation of a house from 100 years ago, I don´t know.

I made the worst meal of my trip here, couldn´t find tomate sauce all day, so I got what turned out to be anchovies in watery tomato sauce. So nasty! I put my flashlight on it for a second and saw nothing but gray matter and noodles, but I still ate it until it got cold, reheated it twice and eventually gave up on the last bit.

Next morning I made it up to Tinke, the town right next to Ausangate, a 6000m snowy peak. Snow´s a rarity here. I stopped in for supplies and talked to a quechua woman for a while. I thought she was 50 or 60 but she said she was 30. Not really a sexy place here, but very badass people. Her friend was a guide who brought gringos to the summit of Ausangate. It´s a 2 day trip and costs 1000 soles, so this guy must be the richest in town. He had a modern backpack and parka, but then his shoes were just leather planks with basically belts and almost black toes. He hikes up through the snow with those!

My best moment in this town was asking for the trash. She told me a trash person would probably stop by. This one gnarly looking woman came by in minutes with a wheel barrow loaded with odds and ends. I almost ALMOST asked if she was the trash woman. Turns out her wheel barrow was loaded with huuuge pots of food and covered with nasty sheets for insulation. And her food was awesome after that meal of anchovies. 180 degrees, from trash to food.

That´s about all for the moutains, I went on to get ripped off by the taxi as I said, landed in Marcapata, and I´ll write the decent from there next time.

I can´t stress enough, if you want an awesome trip in Peru, travel from Cusco to Puerto Maldonado overland in Sept 2010. It´ll be paved and the towns on the way will still be backcountry. Any earlier and you´re a cowboy. Any later and the gringo scams will be budding and prices increasing. Right now it´s the friendliest shack towns with some of the most amazing scenery, especially Tinke to Quince Mil.

Torrential rain here in Maldonado has stopped, and it´s not 95 degrees like yesterday. Time for exploring.