THE AGONY AND THE SCENERY....

    

Cuenca Ecuador

to

Cusco Peru

 Listening to   Big Yellow Taxi   Joni Mitchell

Great song with one line we all use...

...you don't know what you've got till it's gone...

Maybe revisit what you've got before it or you are gone!

Rattles and I do mud together 
I'm sitting astride the KLR on an Eucadorian mountain range on the 594 somewhere outside Sig Sig. I've upped the idle speed on Rattles as she struggles a little over three thousand metres and now her little rattly heart is chuffing away contentedly beneath me. It's wet, it's foggy, it's cold, and I'm staring downhill at a  single lane hundred metre mud hole. I'm awaiting my turn at the man made obstacle course that the road works and rain have created. The local public bus has made it halfway through coming up towards me before totally losing traction and is now beating a retreat backwards with wheels spinning trying to slow it's non progress (should really get the thesaurus out for that one). It's kinda comical cos half the passengers jumped out on the way up...I would've thought they would've helped traction staying on but now they're standing at the sides getting covered in gloop kinda play attempting  to stop the bus going  sideways as well as backwards...over the side. The bus slides to a halt, I lift my feet out of the grey slop, pray to the gods of traction and single otto cycle engines and become the entertainment for the assembled road workers and traffic.  Nothing to see here folks as the KLR cleans another section of crap road and bounces on. 

This isn't where the above incident happenned.
I was too scared hanging on to get the camera out!

 Shoot out at the No Logic Coral 2

The dreamer regarded the heart across the table

through eyes that still knew no logic

they'd been though a bit...

through borders 'n quakes 

through long days 'n hurricanes

through heavy rain 'n big heat

it was months since they'd ridden off...

but the posse will be comin 

for the the bleeding wallet needs it's justice

'n Sherriff Brain

and Deputies

Commonsense and Care,

are mounted, and on the way...

Dean

I don't like Hippies
I'm on my way to Vilcabamba in the mountains in lower Ecuador. Its a touristy sort of place with a high percentage of ex pat types and hippies etc. I'm kinda half interested and going on a friends advice and as it's kinda on the way well let's do it. The run into the hills to Sig Sig starts badly when I get stopped and turned around 20K in due to a landslide totally blocking the road. I backtrack to Cuenca and take an alternate route with the first hour out of the window. The road into and out of Sig Sig is a beauty but the perfect new highway into the mountains peters out at the same time the rain hits and I get totally fogged in with about twenty metre visibility. So I'm late, I'm riding amongst heavy vehicles with no visibility, and the road through the highest part of the mountains is total mud and slop. Oddly as soon as I drop down out of the mist the dirt road becomes  animpenetrable dust bowl and seals my new laid  mud job with grey talc. By now I've got the shits on and set my sights on Vilcabamba which was a bit far and now seems even further. I give the KLR a spanking and ride all day with no lunch. It's an odd ride as you come out or the mountains down to about 800 metres elevation and the landscape totally changes and the temperature rockets up. Further on towards Loja you go back into the twisties and it cools again. I reach Loja about four thirty with another forty odd K's to Vilcabamba. I spot a Moto dealer and stop and inquire about getting my bike washed maybe tomorrow. The owner proudly declares they will do it straight away. Hmm, OK, well it's getting late but OK. They start off doing a great job so I wander off to survey the range of Chinese and Indian motorcycles they sell. I wander back about five and well, as closing time approaches they seem to have lost interest. The back is pretty good but the front is a shit job..well... it's better than it was. Hmm $10 spent..maybe not well spent but good enough that I can finish it myself the next morning. I ride like a loon in the dark to Vilcabamba and score a pretty good room for $15 after knocking back $47 right next door. I work on a chewy pizza with my crook jaw at Jims Bar while watching Ecuador losing again to Argentina. Argentina get an early goal and the locals are mortified. There's  a totally pissed old  Pom ex pat with no front teeth at the next table smoking and banging on about Georgie Best way too loud...yep I've had enough. Finally, with questions over the bill, it's time to end an average day. Buuut time for the last incident of the day. It's late, I'm heading towards the KLR when a gentleman about my age, American accent, suitably attired in a panama hat, tie dyed shirt and some sort of cheese cloth happy pants pulls me up with the following. "Hey man...is that your KLR...I really admire you man...I was gonna do a trip on a KLR once...but you know...the consequences of life...the consequences of life...now it's never gonna happen" and then strides off...hippies.
Ooooh am I tired!

OK dad joke time. I had a friend who was a frayed of rope bridges...

Might be time to shift...back a bit perhaps...

Getting the bike washed. Round about the time they were still keen..
or when I was still watching!.

Street scene in Vilcabamba...it didn't really work for me.

Someone perhaps contemplating the consequences of life
in Vilcabamba...now it's never gonna happen!

Breakfast time. The best part of Vilcabamba for me.

To the border
Oddly the next day the pendulum swings in my favor and the ride to Macara on the border is an absolute cracker. I've been looking at scenery forever on this trip but this part knocks me out. As it's dryer down here mother nature has cast a lighter more beautiful camouflage net over rolling ranges with clear air letting you see forever. With almost no traffic, a knockout road and only soaring eagles for company I ease up and gently swing from curve to curve quite often seeming to follow ridge line after ridge line before finally coming down to a much dryer zone before Macara.  Macara is quite a cool little border town with about three main streets running all over the place. As I'm early I grab a seat on the mainest street and people watch for an hour or two. Just people doin stuff same as the world over. Seems like a good vibe though, 
I shall be a little sad to leave Ecuador.

Go lads, a couple of hundred metres to the next corner...
my monies on the bus holding him out...unless there's
a landslide around the corner...then...

Beautiful.

This is what a town in South Ecuador look like. Taken from 
my hotel balcony. Yep breaky and a balcony for about $12 AU

Yep all the love disappears when you leave. This dust  bowl is 
approaching the Ecuador/Peru border.

Imagine if you studied hard, landed that flash Government job
working for customs, and then found your office was a shipping container!

Another Border another...
...erm pick that up will you?
I cross into Peru very easily, hook up 100kph and head towards Piura. First impression...and one I won't forget...garbage, yep garbage. The difference between Ecuador and northern Peru are like chalk and cheese. It's like Peru has a garbage volcano which spews garbage around every town. Then they get snow ploughs and just move it to the side of the road. I'm exaggerating of course but the amount of garbage dumped on the highway approaching towns is nuts. Everything from dead animals to mattresses to what looked like piles of asbestos to the real biggy, acres and acres of white plastic bags blowing everywhere. The Pan American Highway runs through dune country on and off right down to where I turned inland at Santa. After all the green mountains it's a bit like travelling through Mars...with garbage. I head into Piura with no cash or fuel and although I've never been to India the dust, mayhem and smell is what I would imagine it to be like. I get lucky and find an ATM easily and once again people watch for a while over a roll and juice. The roads are a maelstrom of crazy three wheel taxis, belching trucks, kamikaze car drivers who just don't give way and will run you to the kerb, and the roughest city roads I've ever seen. Mostly potholed dirt mixed with just about every surface invented which changes constantly. I grab some fuel and head for Chiclayo hoping for a little more civilisation. On the two hundred kilometre run through the dune country I hit a monster head wind and by the time I arrive my neck is about twice it's normal size! I grab a hotel which is pretty cheap and the owner lets me roll the KLR through the door and park it in the foyer. Cool. Shorts on, thongs on and out for a stroll for a look and a think. Hmm...Peru...Incas, pan pipes and Llamas,  small people in funny hats wearing rugs and stuff...or crazy drivers, garbage strewn roads, expensive petrol, dust, horns, wind, stray dogs everywhere (this much garbage is dog heaven)
...ah hmm it's only the first day...we'll see.

Yep...nothing to see here.

My hotel in Chiclayo. That's a cool Chev there in a rarish body shape.

Stray Dog Monthly and the Itinerant Hound Gazette have both 
nominated Northern Peru as the most popular place for homeless 
dogs to holiday three years running....

Chiclayo street scenery.

When you set up for the nightly market you just
move the traffic out a bit...see, there's always room.

The dune country just before Guadilupo is quite spectacular.

Don't try these shots at home...well you probably can't find
 an overloaded truck full of cane stalks for a start!

Turn left at Santa ...

No Really...Do this!

Canon Del Pato...Duck Canyon. A canyon with about 45K of winding canyon road, thirty five one vehicle width tunnels, and spectacular landscape. Now partially sealed for one vehicle width. 
Right here the ride is justified.
 No matter how much rain, crap food, hurricanes and earthquakes, one ride through the Canon and you're nodding yep, pain and expense are rarely remembered but the magnificent memory of slowly picking my way through the deserted  Canon on a fine day (!) is mine. One KLR, thirty odd ultra narrow tunnels, a beautiful flowing river below and a mind stonking rock strewn canyon...tick sorted, great ride.

Listening to 

The Good The Bad and the Ugly Theme 

Ennio Morricone

Pull this up on You Tube and imagine riding alone through

 a fantastic rock Canyon hewn from stone by mother nature.

Yep dunna dunna da...da daa da!

Getting into postcard Peru

I've ridden down the Panamericana highway from Chiclayo in reasonable weather. The dune country gets more rugged as you head south and is quite beautiful between Trujillo and Guadalupito with a landscape of jagged bare hills and sand. I turn onto the 12 at Santa and find a hotel for the night.The lady lets me do some bike maintenance in their garage. When I find the promised hot water doesn't exist the next morning I figure we're kinda square. I head down the 12 through green farmland and then into the Canon Del Pato for the ride of my life. Highway 12 winds into the 3n and I finally end up at Huaraz for the night. It seems to be a mountain climbing kick off point with the hostels hosting many young climbers and backpackers and we're starting to get some serious altitude here. The plan is to head towards Cusco to see Machu Picchu. I'm at a bit of a fork in the road. I could/should turn back to the coast and zoom down through Lima and back up to Cusco which is easier, dryer and shorter, or I could pick my way for five days through the mountains which is a bit of a risk considering the rain I've been hitting...hmm so in the spirit of suffering for my curiosity it's the mountains then...and boy do I and the KLR suffer...and boy do I see stuff. 

Cusco here I come!

The lady at the hotel at Santa made me  a catch bowl for the oil 
out of an old plastic bottle and let me work in the palatial garage.

This guy is a phone repairman. Lesson one in business, keep 
you're overheads down.

Santa really kicks on after dark. 

This is Rio Santa (River Santa) as it leads into the Canon. Just 
a fantastic ride from the start.

Such a contrast after the coast road...still a little garbage but 
nothing compared to up north.

Grab a couple of bananas before I head into the really good stuff.

Ah beaudy I love tunnels and there's heaps of these one vehicle ones.
Maybe have a look before entering though!

The canyon widens and narrows and with little usable farmland
there are very few inhabitants. 

 With the bike turned off and just the breeze
blowing it's a moving experience.

 For this one I had to dig a little ledge in the cliff wall
for the camera...this selfie thing is hard work.

Quick quick...if a truck comes the other way I'll be walking!

 It took multiple shots to get the !@#$ camera to focus in the tunnel.

This is a special effect...I didn't really ride one handed in a sandy 
tunnel up the arse of a five ton truck taking pictures with my free hand. 

See what we don't do in Australia is toque our claxon very often.
 If we did, and toquing our claxon  was considered normal, it 
might lessen the unfortunate habit of unreasonable hand signals.

Even when the road opens out it still remains beautiful.

The Road to Cusco 
Five Days of Heaven and Hell.
Ok...I'm in Cusco, I've ridden the most amazing roads, through the most amazing Andean mountain landscape at higher altitude than I've ever been. But...it's rained on and off every day, I've dropped the bike twice and one of the the days was the worst and most dangerous day's ride I've ever had...and another was one of the best...
Agony and Scenery!
I head out of Huaraz in sunshine on a beautiful part of the 3n highway and head past a beautiful snow capped mountain. It's an epic ride going up to higher and higher altitudes. Even the guy who serves me at  the servo a hundred K along has snow boots on...that's cold! I turn towards Huanuco and go up through a range to about 4700m which is higher than I've yet been. Unfortunately over 4000 I get lashed with freezing rain and although the road is a gem it's super slow going with limited visibility. The road then drops down and  turns into  a secondary dirt road much of which has been dug up for resurfacing and never done. The rain sets in with a vengeance and the road turns to mud...with over a 100k to go.  I slog it out with a road orientated rear tyre and a skating rink for a road which goes one lane around remote mountain sides and rises and falls constantly. The rear brake starts playing up leaving me in a potentially dangerous situation time after time. My one lasting memory though, except for dropping the bike, was negotiating my way through a village which was ankle deep in purple coloured mud the whole way. There were kids standing in the slush by their houses watching me slither by. I just can't imagine how you live with mud surrounding your house right up to the front door for months on end. I knew it was not possible to stay upright forever and sure enough while negotiating a downhill hairpin with only the front brake out goes the front wheel. The slope is so extreme the bike falls almost upside down and extensively damages the fairing, breaks a mirror and cracks the useless crashbar. I stand in rain and wait as picking it up in this extreme position is not possible...it's a touching moment looking at Rattles lying there upside down dripping petrol. Finally a Hilux full of locals rolls up and within minutes I'm on my way, covered in mud and with bits of plastic flapping around but good to go. When I arrive at Huanuco I'm exhausted but still have to empty all the wet stuff out of my panniers, clean off all the mud on my boots, carry all my luggage up the stairs to the third floor and then go out and find food.
 This day never ends!
Worst day of the trip done...tick! 

Listening to   Days Like This   Van Morrison
Well, with days like this, they erm add colour to your life, I guess...
...I gotta stop wearing these rose tinted glasses, it was a crap day!

Tackling the Peruvian Road
If there's one thing I could pass on about riding in Peru is that you have no choice but to take it slow. There are an infinite number of obstacles ready to bring the unwary down. It just is not possible to do more than maybe 300k days on the mountain roads. I rode one day and in seven hours only hit top gear maybe four times. Non stop curves, hairpins, water over the road, rain and slow traffic all day. Then there's the complete overuse of topes (road humps) everywhere. Relax and hit one at speed and "kabam"...after which, now that you're out of control "kabam"...another one fifty metres further along just to make sure you're really out of control! Entering one large town, Huancayo I think, there were over ten kilometres of topes every 200ish metres requiring all traffic to slow to walking pace.  Next, animals are constantly on the road. I was wending my way into Abancay at about 5pm. I came out of a downhill hairpin, saw something in a shadow and there it was, a horse just standing there hidden by the shade in my lane on the main highway...with a vehicle filling the opposite lane...aaargh! Peruvian muts love to chase motorbikes. Dozens of them race out in attack mode barking and carrying on with the quicker ones showing an awesome turn of speed. All credit to them though, so far their timing has been excellent and I haven't hit any. Impressive! 
Peruvian drivers...oh boy! So it's a one vehicle road or lane, you see a vehicle coming the other way...ok you move over...and the car coming towards you just uses the space you made and moves over towards you and then just misses you...time after time...huh? Peruvian traffic lights are used as a guide only. If you sit and wait for green everybody is on the horn. All corners are taken racetrack style usually on the wrong side of the road...regardless of oncoming traffic!
The flipside is that this is one of the most 
stunning landscapes in the world. 
I came to see...and this is it. 
I stopped and sat on top of a peak at about 4100m today and just sat and looked. (next thing I'll be building pyramids to sit under)  My fingertips were tingling from the altitude and my breathing was struggling but it was truly magic. The Andes turn it on day after day. The roads vary from racetrack perfect to crumbling goat track time after time day after day. A straight of over half a K is a rare thing. After riding in Peru you will be a cornering god! Day after day of hairpins and cornering perfection.

Listening to    Rocky Mountain Way     Joe Walsh
OK kiddies time to add to your rock and roll education.
Originally from the 1973 album 
The Smoker You Drink The Player You Get
Pull it up, turn it up,rip it up.

Another buster and the best day!
After taking a couple of days riding through daily rain from Huanuco to Huancayo and then onto Ayacucho the best road and scenery is from Ayacucho to Cusco. A truly grand ride on a great road through the best of the Andes so far. Rising and falling several times a day from two thousand metres up to well up over four thousand metres the scenery is spectacular, hmm the best so far. Once again fate bites me on the ass. I'm taking my time, not pushing it when I cross a sort of concrete exposed culvert on the main highway with water rushing across it. I come out of a corner and enter it at an angle and as the tyres leave the water onto the slick concrete cobble stone exit both slide out and send me down the road. Bugger. I'm not hurt but the left pannier now has some nasty road art. The next day the totally unexpected happens...blue skies and sunshine all the way to Cusco, woo hoo!
 ...ah the agony and the scenery!

Aaah better times. A beautiful snow capped mountain
just out of Huarez.

Outside the hotel in Huanuco before unloading and drying everything.

Rattles looks a bit secondhand with a smacked up fairing, no right
hand mirror and a cracked crash bar. Needless to say it bothers him not
still fronting up daily chuffing away for another hiding.

This is Thomas and Erica from Germany. We spent a great night
solving the world's problems over pizzas in Huancayo. They are
on a two year ride around South America. They are doing a runner
 to the border before their  temporary visas run out and plan to stay in
Columbia for a while before returning. Ride safe folks..

Aaand the road follows the river....get out the way Deano.

The little fellow's gonna struggle to sweep up when the mud goes
right up to the doorstep.

Single lane meaning car stays in the lane and
the moto can stay in the dirt inches from the edge
of the cliff according to Peruvian drivers.

There are buildings everywhere painted up with political stuff.
The latest ones are bright red white and blue and are an eyesore.
These older ones are quite cool and age well.

Time for a drink and a think.

Four thousand one hundred and ten metres. Half an hour later
back down to two thousand two hundred.

Why I'm here...

Oh oh do all the zippers up it's gonna pour again.

These guys only stayed to watch me fumble about with thick
gloves and the camera and even learned some new special words!

Ok mate I know all ya mates have run off. Just
one shot for Deano please...what'dya mean have I
fallen off again...

Why I'm here...

Road art. Bugger...

There's a mountain there amongst all the clouds
On the road to Cusco

Coca-Cola, water, chips, lollies...and rocks!
Each one has a price on it...maybe to stop your 
car rolling away?

Reality Check No. 13 
(How fitting!)
I'm sitting here in Cusco in the Hostal Esterilla battling with weak wifi again. I've been on the road about ten days and am having a couple of days here to play tourist and visit Machu Picchu. Yep I've had a right old time with bad weather and falling off as well as seeing some amazing stuff. I'm doing what I came for, seeing and doing stuff. Every jigsaw shape, be it rain, mud, hotels, crap days, every meal on the street, every border, every dog that chases me, unheard of towns and gobsmacking landscapes is shaping into an entire epic memory vista. I might have a banged up bike, the odd bruise and smell bad but how lucky am I,
I'm riding the Andes through Peru! 

Next Blog Machu Picchu if I can afford it and then heading towards Bolivia!
Thankyou once again for the comments and apologies for the late blog...I've been busy staying mostly upright!
Cheers Dean