so back in Bolivia again after a day and a half in Peru and along the foothills of Cordillera Apolobamba. The Tres Cordilleras bikepackinig route does just that, rolls smoothly (by the Andean standards) along the big range but I knew I wont be able to resist riding right up to these peaks and trying to find a nice lake to camp on.
somehow an alpacka has mingled in with the wild Vicunas but all in all they are all pretty chill with it and more worried about the guy talking to them in English from not too far away
I grabbed some surprisingly fresh tomatoes in town, a lucky pick I feel for where we are. The whole place just seemed rather odd, people here would really walk up to you and just ask you “how much?”, while its obvious that they mean the bike, my answer 1 (or 2) horses’s worth doesn’t spark a conversation but rather they resume talking between themselves in their native language.
a tour of the 3 little stores and none had a lighter, i got two packs of matches just in case.
With the rare sunny evening and the idea that I should acclimatize, I set up along the empty foothills at only 3pm, enough time to watch sunset and the big mountains from behind the ridges
and of course, have plenty of time and energy to cook my meal. I can’t describe to you the feeling that you may need to eat cold, uncooked soup for dinner. the $230 Optimus - Polaris stove continues to be the biggest disappointment of my bikepacking career and in desperate efforts to get it going I try to start a mini fire ontop, any disturbance (EVEN TURNING THE POT ON TOP!) would extinguish the flame. I can’t even simmer and to get pasta/quinoa done, i have to boil rather violently with top open or again, if i lower the dial it would turn off and it could be another 10 minutes to start it.
mornings were cold but cold oatmeal is okay…. no coffee or anything though, i just cant find the energy to do it…
white rainbow, white double rainbow?
There were few houses at the base of a lake and what seemed to be a school under construction. Since i went a little bit hard on the candy yesterday and had a sizeable garbage bag, i decided to see if they burn their garbage so i can leave mine. An older man immediately started inquiring where I was going and seemed very upset that I was leaving my garbage with their garbage. Eventhough I assured him that I can take it to the next town if needed. Then he began to say how the miners rob people and then the blame goes to him and the other locals.
”This is my land and you can’t go up, why do you want to go up?”
talking to him was like talking to one of the stone fences, he was on the verge of bursting into tears and obviously very upset. Although I didnt understand him, I have absolute respect for locals/natives and while I wont think twice hopping a miner’s fence, I was ready to turn back.
The teacher was listening to us in the meanwhile and he spoke to the man, interestingly how quick he calmed and I offered to take down my passport info if needed. The teacher copied that down and just like that, the old man said it’s okay and that I can continue up the road.
the local people werent the only ones giving me weird looks!
the road went inward and inward toward the big peaks but it did not lead to the lake. A quick on foot scout mission made me decide that it will not happen, i can’t get to the lake, with the bike.
but… the road continued the other way. Might as well keep going
a little ridge gave me both a view of the mountain and the valley below (sunset!) at 4900 it was a good place to stop and wonder about where that road leads tomorrow.
and what can i tell you about the food situation… I broke 1 of my 2 lighters and used up both mathboxes, using the boxes to try and get the stove going. The last straw was when I dug through my bags and used both my passport copies to try and get this friggin thing going… to no avail.
pasta felt like cooked enough and i did get the onions fried a little….
as for the morning coffee… well i figured the trick as long as I don’t set myself on fire. I stuck one of my last few matches into the gas canister, spraying thoroughly the stove, then screw it back on and turn it on. Light it all up. although worryingly big it catches on and now i can boil water, if i remove the pot it turns off but i dont remove it.
ok, where were we, oh that road.!
well the road ended about 100m up (vertical) but i had to look around and see if i can make it across.
i tested multiple ways on foot, they all ended somewhere on a cliff…
but eventually I found trails leading over along the ridge toward a lower hump, a pass perhaps at around 5200m according to the topographic map. The catch was though that I had to make it up the Vicuna trails which honestly bring a new perspective on grade and what is actually possible to do with a bicycle.
these guys are some really tough creatures!
I stood for a good 20 minutes at the pass, zooming in on different parts of the downhill as a storm was brewing and heading toward me. It did not look good. There was a road in the next valley but the way the rocks cut across the downhill, there was a high chance that there may not be a safe way down.
but then a stone cairn caught my eye, this must be something!
and it was, a safe way down!
this one town i stopped to buy gasoline. The experience was not great, charged 3x for the 300ml that i got and asked how much does the bike cost. Two horses I answer ,somebody says 3000 dollars and then conversation continues in their native language.
in retrospect, Peruvian miners are very, very friendly. That one time when me and a canadian friend rode into a mine, i kept running from the security for 40minutes up the hill and the supervisor got called, he invited us to stay in their houses but let us stay at the lake to camp…
I rode down to the tres cordilleras bike route and set up along some rocks, sleeping to the occasional truck emptying its load through the night.
even the roads and trails have that odd vibe, the shepherd vs miner war where rocks are piled on any car or motorcycle track
roads are in bad shape and so are the cars and trucks that drive them
it’s kind of odd but this stretch was not enjoyable, i was just waiting for the daily rain to begin and the whole area had this odd vibe with it. Two motorcyclists stopped behind me, passed me and then stopped infront of me to let me pass. When they passed me and stopped infront again I just sat by the road for 15 minutes until they left. Could have been nothing but its just so odd. The whole place was ran down and two towns I passed by had no water (they had some tanks and they were both empty).
out of another town a guy on a moto, wearing a jacket of SENA or SENAC or something spoke to me and told me this is a protected area (as in national park?) and I cant be here without a permit from La Paz. He said if the police saw me, they would take me to the office. I thought I would absolutely not mind getting a ride out of here… I kind of just let him talk and after 5 minutes he said that I can go.
the only highlight of this day was the wet homeless dogs along these ridges, these crafty souls survive on garbage and surely know how to clean a gringo of his remaining bread and peanuts.
I set up in the rain but luckily I had some gasoline left over (that makes starting the stove much easier although it suffers the same problems that if i move anything it turns off and then i need to wait for it to cool off before starting it again)
no sunshine in the morning today, although it has been rainy almost every morning I can sleep in until 8 until my tent dries.
These fellows were out early to greet me
eventually it dried out a bit but aside from a nice mud paint-job, I had nothing to show for these few days. It’s just been rain eventhough the topo map promised amazing views to the east and to the west from these wet ridges.
the weather and the vibe toward lake titicaca were better. I hopped off the route for now in hopes of finding somewhere dry to sleep, hopefully indoors. The town of Escoma had several lodging options, 3 of which were just too dirty and the 4th one did not want to open for just 1 person.
The little hostal in Carabuco was open for lunch though and they had reasonably clean rooms and good food.
following day was a rest day, i just climbed the hill by the lake to find a nice spot to camp although in retrospect if i knew the wind would road all day and almost all night I would have tried another spot.
but the view was almost worth it! Plus I had food to go so I did not need to use my stove and i dont think I could even if i wanted to.
so here I was along the warm shores of Titicaca and the Altiplano both of which promised warmer weather, more sunshine uptime and flatter roads but somehow I wanted to go beyond these ridges and see what is there.
but that wasn’t always the case.
I was also at a point where I had to decide on a route. My plan to go to Sorata was overshadowed by stories of “charges” for passing by enforced by shepherds or anyone walking the trails. A guide agency in La Paz outright warned me about robbery and the miners (although they would often just say that to everyone) and I spoke to somebody who said they were attacked by llama whips by 4 drunks on the Illampu circuit (it was 4vs4 but i did not ask if all the men had llama whips or just one?). My “less than ideal” bottom bracket meant that I could just ride down to Achacachi and the Casa de Ciclistas there and go to La Paz to fix that, while having some time to decide on how, or if I will be traversing The Cordillera Real
plus, it was really, really nice being out of the rain for a few days!
