Erich’s Journal – Leg 16 – Southern Peru – Mala, Lima, Peru to Tacna, Tacna, Peru – February 4, 2002 to February 19, 2002 – 16 Days

Monday, February 04, 2002 – Day 235 – Hotel – Mala, Lima, Peru – cycled 67 miles / 109 km (See Lima / Ica Map)

It was my first day on the road alone. I awoke to a wake up call at 5:30 and proceeded to pack up and head out. The rooms had a slight mildew smell, as my biking clothes were not quite dry from the prior wash and were packed airtight for the past 9 days. I pulled them down from my makeshift clothesline and packed them anyway.

My bags are a little heavier, due to the added stove, computer peripherals, extra tires, video camera and a few other things that Brian had been carrying. I am not sure how much heavier, but my knees could feel it throughout the day. There was an industrial scale at the hotel. I weighed all of my bags at 40 kg (88 lbs). I weigh 80.5 kg (177 lbs) with bike clothing, helmet etc. With my camelback, you can add 6 lbs when it is full.

As I was moving my bike from where it was stored, I saw Brian’s tossed bike parts lying in the corner. Apparently, the hotel proprietor thought they were of value to us and saved them. I took Brian’s front rack and replaced mine. Mine had broken a few weeks earlier near the Allen bolt that held it to the fork. I had used a fastener to reattach it, but thought, “Why not replace it with a good rack?” I also took Brian’s seat, which he bought in California. Duct tape was holding mine together, which I had since the beginning of the trip. Due to the bike preparation, I didn’t get on the road until close to 7:00 a.m.

I began to battle the Monday morning traffic. I HATE CITIES! I know I mentioned this often in my journal writings. It’s my one truism. I hate them as much as Brian hates the desert. I would have given anything not to stay here, but Brian’s flight home changed that. The hotel where we stayed was north of Lima, central, so I had to cycle through close to 20 miles of city before I got south of town. I don’t know if I traveled through the heart of the city, but I cycled through a few major organs. The worst were the busses and the minivans, which pick people up and cart them around the city. They would frequently pass me and brake in front of me. I hate them more than I hated the RV’s in Alaska. They would stop when the traffic lights were green. People would step out of busses as I was passing. I came close to hitting a few people. I was bumped by two minivans today. A few taxis, cut over two lanes in front of me, forcing me off the bike. Eight months of cycling has prepped me such that I don’t seem to blink an eye.

I stopped for breakfast at a bakery (the good things about cities are the services). Breakfast consisted of yogurt, cereal, bread, orange juice and cookies. There a man who spoke English approached me and began talking. He was born in Peru but is a US citizen and has lived in New York for over 30 years. He was retired military vet who had served in Vietnam. He has kids, parents and siblings living in the US as well. He was in Peru living off his pension. He was fascinating to talk to, although he did most of the talking. He said he misses speaking English to people and was glad to see another American in his native country. After a bit, he gave me some directions to get on the main highway south.

Eventually, after several suburbs, I exited onto the Panamerica Sur. It was eight lanes of traffic, but the shoulders were wide and smooth. The direction had changed also to the south away from the Andes so I was able to cruise at about 20 mph for a half-hour or so.

The morning was cool and foggy. No sun block was used most of the day. No wind either, which was a switch. I made close to 70 miles by 2:30 p.m. Tonight I stayed in a beach community that was just south of the city of Mala. I am one block away from the beach. This evening I took a stroll on the littered beach. It is actually the first time I walked on the beach in South America. The water is very cold. Go Figure. There was a beautiful sunset to the west. There was an ugly trashed-beach to the east.

This is not a place for tourists, but for locals. There are no public restrooms so people seem to urinate wherever. There were many restaurants on the beach, with lots of people drinking heavily. Lots of trash is strewn across the beach. (Did I mention this?) Unlike beach towns in the US, there are not beachcombers that rake it up and dispose of it properly.

I had much difficulty understanding the restaurant waiter tonight as I ordered dinner at a beach restaurant. He did not seem to pronounce “r” in any of his words. I don’t know if it is a regional accent or a problem with him. He kept saying “Picado” (which I thought meant spicy) instead of “Pescado” (which means fish). It took a bit, but managed to get what I wanted. At the end of the meal, I found myself explaining my whole adventure to his family and a few other diners in the place.

The people in Peru are incredibly friendly and curious. There just doesn’t seem to be any jobs or circulating money. (It took me forever to cash my $100 soles bill tonight).

I have a great comfortable-clean room tonight for under $6.00. I’m going to sleep well tonight. I will probably crash early and head out early again tomorrow. (See photos 1849 and 1850)

Tuesday, February 05, 2002 – Day 236 – Hotel -- Pisco, Ica, Peru – cycled 90 miles / 145 km

Today was a little easier getting up and going. I did have to wake up the hotel proprietor because the front gate was locked with a padlock. I contemplated going back to bed for a bit, but opted to wake her up instead. I was gone by 6:15.

I don’t know why I never seem to learn that there is no such thing as a restaurant in the small towns or along the highway open for breakfast. My second lesson I never seem to learn is to buy and pack some food the night before, because there are no stores open in the morning.

I had two pieces of bread that I bought while I was in Puno. I was glad I saved it. It went well with the peanut butter that Brian left me. It lasted me for the first 25 miles until I found a little food stand along the highway. They offered me cheese sandwiches and coffee. Oooh Weee! What a meal!

It actually sufficed until close the 12:30 p.m. until I found the right restaurant. I had 60 miles done by noon. I think it may be a record. I stopped for an hour and a half lunch. I had fried chicken with fries, lots of rice, and two cokes for equivalent of about $2.50.

Two nice female waitresses sat and joined me, asking many questions and were quite entertained with my copy of “Footprints” travel guide, even though they hadn’t the first clue about the English language. Again, I noticed one woman didn’t say the “s” sound when she spoke Spanish. They didn’t call it “Español” either. They referred to their language as “Castillano” (Castillian, I guess) I took the opportunity to videotape them with a very brief interview. I coached them with what to say. (See photo 1851)

I biked a total of 90 miles today, arriving in Pisco at about 4:00 p.m. I am staying in a cheap hostel for 10 soles (about $3). (See photos 1852 and 1853) What a bargain. It is an old but comfortable place with many young European travelers staying here. The attraction is a nature preserve near here where there many different types of water fowl, sea lions and other animals.

In the morning, I am taking a bus tour to see this park. I’ll bike on to Ica (about 45 miles) in the afternoon.

Some bike advisory talk: The serious headwinds that Brian and I encountered in the north, don’t seem to exist in the south. The roads have been very flat and along a beautiful coast. I’ve also encountered rain and fog for most of the day. The desert though still exists—barren as ever.

Some concern: I also notice a small hairline crack in my frame, at the same place that as my old bike that I broke. Not that I am bad mouthing REI or anything, but I will never buy an aluminum-framed bike again, especially one that’s classified as Adventure Touring. Brian would say I’m too fat for the bike. I think I just ride pretty damn abusively! I don’t think it’s serious yet, but I don’t think I will be standing and riding too much, which is too bad for my butt! I hear there is an REI in Santiago. I wonder if my warranty replacement bike is under warranty. We’ll find out. If not, I wonder if I can get all of my bike components on a South American bike frame that I purchase somewhere.

Wednesday, February 6, 2002 – Day 237 – Hotel – Ica, Ica, Peru – cycled 49 miles / 79 km

The tour of Paracas National Park was cool. I thought it was going to be a bus ride. I must have missed something in the translation. It was actually a boat ride out to a group of islands. The islands, named Ballestas, were loaded with thousands of sea lions and tens of thousands of various waterfowl. I don’t think I ever saw this many sea lions in one place. The birds were none that I had ever seen before. Included were penguins. I know I had never seen penguins in the wild before. I didn’t expect them to be this far north. We spent over an hour cruising around these small islands, which had spectacular caves and arches, through which we would maneuver. It was very beautiful. (see photos 1854, 1855, 1856, 1858, 1859, 1860, 1861, 1862, 1863, 1864, 1865, 1866, 1867, 1868, 1869, 1870. 1871, 1872, 1873, 1874 and 1875)

On the way out there along the mainland we passed by a huge ancient drawing in the sand near the shoreline (also part of the park). It was shaped like a leaf or something. Although I wonder about its authenticity, the guide claimed it was over 1000 years old. (See photo 1857)

I had breakfast with a British woman (She was from Northern England. She was offended when I said Southern England. Northern England is working class. Southern England is upper class.) who was traveling by bus around South America. She was working her way east to Bolivia. Her recent travels had included Ecuador, Columbia and Venezuela.

I was on the road after a brief lunch and going strong by noon. The road now turned inland away from the coast. There were also no services as I had hoped. Again, I traveled without food. Because of the turn inland, the temperature got hot and the sun really seemed to beat down on me. The pleasant surprise was that because I was heading east, I actually had a tailwind. I could also see a dark storm toward the direction where I was heading. (see photos 1876, 1877 and 1879)

About 30 miles into the ride, was a tollbooth. It was there I found various truck stops, so I stopped and grabbed a menu del dia at small shack along the road. I met Eduardo, a trucker there. Although our meeting was brief, he insisted we exchange addresses and wanted to have a photo taken of him and me with the bike in the background. He was very interested in the cycling trip. (See photo 1878)

I eventually hit a small part of the storm. There the wind switched and turned into a strong headwind. There was a lot of water standing along side the roads. Some places I cycled through 4 inches of water.

There I also discovered the meal I had at the truck stop, didn’t sit too well. Perhaps it was the lemonade that came with it. I don’t know. I just know I needed to find a bathroom fast. About five miles later, I came across an ugly gas station with the most disgusting bathroom I ever used. It could not have come a second later. I barely had time to fish for my toilet paper out of my pannier. (Bathrooms in Latin America do not have toilet paper – water is a close second). I won’t gross you out with any more details. However, all went relatively well.

I arrived in the city of Ica about an hour later. My gear was covered with mud. During the off-season, hotels are desperate for business, so I was definitely not turned away. Although the proprietor of the hotel and his bell hop, helped me carry my muddy bike in so that it wouldn’t dirty up the lobby floor. They were so kind.

The crack in my frame seems no worse.

The television showed many clips of major flooding in Northern Peru. Pueblos and Ciudades that Brian and I cycled through were virtually floating away on the television. I couldn’t tell if it was an “El Niño” thing, but I am glad it is behind me and not ahead of me.

Thursday, February 07, 2002 – Day 238 – Hotel – Nasca, Nasca, Peru – 93 miles / 149 km

So much has happened that I don’t know where to begin. I may as well start from the beginning of the day and one can learn from the events as they happened in chronological order.

In an attempt to get on the road early, I discovered I had to follow Murphy’s Law. I had to stop and clean the chain of my bike and attempt to patch a slow leak that I developed in my front tire. The rain and mud the day before caused my chain to make a great deal of noise, so a wash job was in order. I discovered a nice clean gas station where I cleaned the chain with gas and lubed the chain as well. The flat was harder to figure out. I could not find the leak. My two new tubes that I purchased in Northern Peru had some significant holes in them. I decided that the old tube (with three patches) was still the best to use. Since I couldn’t find the leak, I didn’t patch anything. I threw the two new tubes away. These events took about an hour. (I had to stop, however, three times throughout the day to pump up the front tire).

There was a great lunch counter there that was actually open at 7:00 a.m. and served breakfast. Go figure. Just when I reached the conclusion that breakfast was impossibility in this country, I was thrown for a loop. I had two delicious sandwiches and coffee. In addition, I had four pieces of fresh bread. I was on the road by 8:15 a.m.

I cycled the next 45 miles with absolutely no services at all. The temperatures were low enough that I did not drink all my water, but the desert terrain was very inhospitable.

I stumbled across another restaurant out in the middle of nowhere. There I had a chicken plate with fries and rice. I know I said this about other Latin American countries but I do believe the Chicken must be their national bird. There the waitress took an interest in this Gringo’s adventures so I spent about 30 minutes explaining my trip. The meal was filling but somewhat expensive. I departed soon after.

There were some hills coming up. As I was cycling up, a slow moving truck came by. Without hesitation, I grabbed on to the back and let it pull me right up -- about a half a mile and 300 vertical feet at about 14 miles per hour.

At the top, I passed the truck and proceeded down a steep windy road into a deep valley. At the bottom I began to cycle up the other side, when along came the same truck. Again, I grabbed a hold and let it pull me all the way up. I can argue that I am trying to work out my left arm as well. It sure saved on my legs. Brian was one that first started the idea of “Hootching a ride” up the steep hills in Guatemala (a term used when I was a kid and we used to grab a hold of cars while on a skateboard). We had climbed 5000 vertical feet by occasionally catching a ride up top. Now a few months later, I am becoming more proficient at it. Soon I entered the oasis town of Palpa (see photo 1880)

I was cycling in the desert, between Nasca and Palpa. The terrain was flat and desolate, as usual. I stopped to relieve myself off to the side of the road. As I was looking down and to the left, I noticed what I thought was a very smooth round white rock. After kicking over, I noticed it was a human skull. It freaked me out some. I remember reading about ancient tombs near Nasca that had been robbed over the years and the bones left lying in the desert. I don’t know if these were remains as the book describes or if this was the dumping ground of some kind of Peruvian-Mafia killing.

A dozen yards away there was another skull. This one was in a little better shape than the other. Both were missing the jawbones, but perfectly clean and white. Unusual. (See photos 1881 and 1882)

After a total of 72 miles of riding, I came across the large plane where the famous Nasca Lines are located. These lines form geometric as well as animal shapes over large areas of the desert. They were placed there sometime between 200 BC and 700 AD before the Inca Empire existed. I paid the one sol and climbed the platform off the side of the road for a better view. I wasn’t too impressed. I was thinking of the plane ride to view these would be better. (see photos 1885, 1887, 1888, 1889, 1890, 1891, 1892 and 1893)

A mile away or so was another lookout at the top of a hill. One really couldn’t see much from there though. A storm was brewing on the horizon, which brought on some bad headwinds. The last 18 miles were brutal. It took me close to 2.5 hours to complete those last 18 miles, where the first 72 were done in about 6 hours.

The crack in my frame had worsened today. (see photos 1883 and 1884) There is no way I am going to make it out of Nasca. Although Nasca is a small town, I am optimistic about finding a replacement frame there. I am definitely going to need to take a day here too as I want to fly over the Nasca lines and send some pictures and journal entries to Ron, the webmaster.

As I rode into Nasca, three different vans pulled along side me to try to sell me hotel rooms. I picked the first one that approached… Call it a sense of obligation. They were all pretty much in the same price range anyway. Competition is rough in the off-season.

The hostel I am staying at is in the center of town. It includes a private bathroom with electric hot water, and continental breakfast for 20 soles. ($6.80). What a deal! The flight over the Nasca lines came to $40 with taxi to / from the airport and airport tax.

Friday, February 08, 2002 – Day 239 – Hotel – Nasca, Nasca, Peru – rest day

I awoke early to head for the airport. The flight aboard a Cessna 206 was a nauseating experience. I was juggling a video camera and a still camera while the plane was swerving left and right so that people on both sides of the plane could get a view. The woman behind me filled her barf bag. I was glad I didn’t eat first. (see photos 1894, 1895, 1896, 1897, 1898, 1899, 1900, 1901, 1902, 1903, 1904, 1905, and 1906)

The rest of the day was pretty packed. I first went to the only bike mechanic in this town of 30,000 to see what kind of magic he could work. After various discussions with various bike mechanics there, he concluded there was no similar sized frame in Nasca that I could buy. There were a couple of teenagers hanging out that were part of a cycling club. The owner and the boys convinced me that welding the bike might be worth a shot. At least it would be temporary, until I reached the larger city of Arequipa, about 4 days ride away.

The weld job would cost 15 soles. The old man had us wait though until he was good and ready. I also had to get exact change, so I went down to the Texaco (pronounced here as Tex- AAAAH- co) to break a hundred-sol bill. After waiting in the hot sun for about 30 minutes, the old man was ready to weld my bike. The teenaged-boys and I took the bike apart somewhat so he could get his welding torch in. I wouldn’t think one could weld aluminum, but here they seem to do everything. I guess trying to repair it is better when one can’t afford to buy new. He did an adequate job. (See photos 1907, and 1908)

Afterward the boys took me to meet the owner of their cycling club. He was a Chinese-Peruvian man who owned a Chinese restaurant in the square. His name was Paul Che Altmurano. (See photo 1916) He was a very nice man who took an interest in my trip. I signed a cyclists-guestbook that had other tourists’ signatures in it. After some feeble attempts at discussion I learned that the weld job (as I suspected) wouldn’t last long. Arequipa would also not have a frame for me. I discovered my best bet would be to take a bus to Lima and buy a new one. Lima is about 7 hours by bus. I could get the frame I need for sure there for about $100.00. I could be back by the next morning as these buses run frequently throughout the day. This is the plan I intend to take.

The bike shop down the road, took everything off my frame and placed in a box. I am going to take the frame into Lima so that I know I can get exactly what I need. When I return, the bike shop will put all my old components on my new frame. It sounds simple. We’ll see if it works. (See photo 1914)

As if this day were not costing me enough, I tried to buy some floppy disks and discovered the 50-sol bill I received as change from the TexAAAHco was a “falso” which means counterfeit. Counterfeiting I heard is the national pastime here in Peru. American $20’s are the favorite one to counterfeit. Although I had heard of other tourists obtaining counterfeit bills, I thought I was immune.

The boys and I headed back to TexAAAHco to see if we could plead our case and possibly get our money back. The boys and the owner screamed at each other for about 10 minutes. I could see in the gas station owner’s eyes, that he knew he gave me the bad bill, but wasn’t about to take it back. Screw the gringo. The boys seemed pretty upset, but there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. (It was about $14.60). Oh well. Life goes on. I know have a recuerdo (Memorabilia) of Peru.

The boys then helped me load up my gear at the hotel so that I could store them at Paul’s for the day or two I’ll be gone. They were quite helpful. I planned to give them a little money for their trouble in helping me, but they managed to duck out before I had a chance. I didn’t even get their names. I’m sure I will bump into them later when I return.

I plan to depart at 7:00 in the morning. It is another interesting day with another interesting dilemma in the life of Erich Kuball, Bike Explorer.

Saturday, February 09, 2002 – Day 240 -- (On the Bus back to Nasca, Ica from Lima)

Internet was a ridiculously slow experience last night. Luckily, it was only 60 cents per hour. I did manage to get the last batch of pictures and stats to Ron but it took nearly 3 hours.

Now I sit patiently waiting for a 7:15 a.m. bus to Lima. The Econo-class bus was 18 soles. The Royal Class was 70 soles. ($5 versus $21). The Royal class saved an hour. I am going to try the Econo- class. If it ends up being a horrible experience, I may just shell out the extra dough for the Royal on the return ticket. The Econo leaves and arrives sooner than the Royal anyway. It is important that I get to the bike shop today as I there is the possibility it may be closed on Sunday. I hate big cities. (I’ve stated repeatedly) I’d hate to have to hold over another day due to the bike shops’ closure.

Later that night

It’s been an experience. What can I say. The ride into Lima didn’t seem to be long. I read a quite a bit of the South American Handbook to get an idea of things to come. I read about the route to Ushuaia, focusing quite a bit on Patagonia. Occasionally we would stop in towns and cities that I remember from the route south – Palpa, Ica, Pisco, Chincha, Cañate. The 4 days of cycling took 7 hours by bus.

I also read a little about Lima, trying to plan a course of action for dealing with the cycle frame problem. I didn’t want to deal with it. I had a pit in my stomach when I thought about it. I was frightened to have to walk the streets of Lima, possibly spend a night or two. I didn’t feel like spending a great deal of money, but I guess I had no choice. It was also Saturday afternoon, so the possibility stores being closed until Monday was highly likely.

The book stated that the bus station area was not safe. Piranhas (many pickpocketers that hit you at once) were common in the area. It recommended highly taking a cab to wherever you were heading. Paul (in Nasca) recommended a place that was a few blocks’ walk from the terminal. I would hit there first, but take a cab.

The cabbie wanted five soles to go the distance, a fair price I thought since walking it was not an option. As we hunted down the place, we discovered it was closed. The cabbie then took me to a big open market that had hundreds upon hundreds of cycles to choose from. Unfortunately, they were selling the whole bike, not just the frame. I don’t think the caliber of cycles would hold up to the remaining 4300 miles of journey. The bikes were also excessively small for my 6’3” tall American body.

I politely explained that I needed to find a quality bike shop. I stated the four cycle shops that were listed in the South American Handbook. Like mice running through a maze, we were off. The first one had a street name but no house number. The second one had both address and street name. When we arrived we discovered that there was no cycle shop at that address. The police officer at the corner, however, told us of one near by. When we arrived there, they didn’t have anything to offer me, but recommended a place called Cycles which was near by. (That was the one listed with the incorrect address in the South American Handbook). When we arrived there, it was closed. A street vender in front of the place said that the proprietors were out to lunch and would be back in 30 minutes.

From the looks of the place, I thought they might have what I wanted. They had some pretty high quality bikes from what I could see through the window. I wanted to pay the cabbie his fare, which worked its way up to 35 soles, but of course, he had no change the hundred-sol bill I tried to give him.

We went to a gas station, but they refused to give him change, even though he wanted to fill his tank. I can’t imagine living in a country where you always have to have exact change in order to get things done. Businesses would rather turn away business rather than have change available. The ATM gives hundred-sol bills, yet very few businesses can break it. It was hunting down change that led to me obtaining the counterfeit 50.

Long story short, we drove around some more. Then I decided to dig some US currency out of my shoe. A twenty-sol bill and a five-dollar bill combination seemed to satisfy him. I was going to wait in front of Cycles until the proprietors arrived, but the cabbie said he would wait too to give me a ride either to a hotel or with good luck, back to the bus station so I could return to Nasca.

That was when I realized that he probably overcharged me and he had a good thing going so why blow it.

The winds must have been blowing in the right direction because it was the right store to hit. The owners were a married couple that spoke English rather well. I explained my plight to them and we brainstormed options.

The first one, which would have saved some money, was to reinforce my old frame with extra aluminum, welding an extra eighth-inch of aluminum all the way around the bottom bracket. He showed me some examples of the work on other bikes in his possession that looked good. (Aluminum frames are quite common in Peru so broken frames are common). The only problem was that the welding shop would not be open until Tuesday (3 nights away). This added extra cost to the welding job as I would need hotel accommodations, more taxi fare and meals in this expensive city. I would also lose some road time.

The other option was that he would sell me a slightly smaller frame, but would have to disassemble a bike in the shop. There would be an extra cost involved because the remaining parts, were not as valuable to them as they would if they were part of the whole bike. I could though, buy it; they would disassemble; I could depart that afternoon back to Nasca. After looking at my bike, we decided I should buy the front derailleur, the seat post, and the bottom bracket as well as the ones from my old bike would not fit on the new frame. The whole package came to $390, about 60% of what the whole new bike would have cost. I still thought it was a deal.

He prepped the new frame for me a bit. He repacked the bottom bracket with extra bearings, for the new haul. He also threw in some extra cables, cable housing, and some extensions to raise the handlebar. He threw in some extra plastic tie-straps to carry in case I needed some. He also provided me with some tape and bubble-wrap to package the thing up. I kept the old frame, because a man in Nasca offered $20 for it. We wrapped the new frame with the old frame. That was when we noticed that the frames were actually the same length from handlebar stem to rear wheel. The only difference was that the top bar attached to the seat post a little lower. It will make it easier to get on and off. My reach to the handlebars would be the same. The frame, also aluminum, was thicker and heavier. It seemed much stronger. I was very happy.

The owners were Gustavo Prado and Veronica Simon. They were grateful for the business as I was happy with what I got. When I mentioned the incorrect address in the South American Handbook, they explained that they had moved the store location 3 years prior. Veronica was on the internet, already looking to correct the ad. (See photos 1909, 1910, 1911 and 1912)

My cabbie, Jorge, waiting patiently, took me back to the bus station. I waited until 9:45 p.m. to catch a bus back to Nasca. Currently I am on-route. I should arrive around 5:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. The situation is back under control. It was nothing that a little patience, a little ingenuity and a lot of money couldn’t fix. On the bright side, I didn’t have to stay in this big ugly city for longer than a few hours. After a day of putting the bike together and some rest, I should be ready to get back on the road on Monday.

I met a German man in the bus terminal named Udo. He and his Peruvian girlfriend, (I didn’t catch her name) visited me for a while in the cafeteria. Udo apparently has a long distance relationship with her and visits a few months each year. They were heading back to her city, up north.

No hurries no worries. No pain no brain. All’s well that ends well. Close this chapter. Now I just need to deal with cycling the last 4300 miles in the next 90 days. (See photo 1913)

Sunday, February 10, 2002 – Day 241 – Hotel -- Nasca, Ica, Peru – Rest day

It was a long night but I managed to get some sleep. I returned to the same hotel, checking in at about 5:30 a.m. I wasn’t charged anything for the checking in so early, so it was as though I actually had two nights instead of one. I slept for about five hours waking up around 10:00 a.m. or so.

The boys at the bike shop began to put the bike back together. I managed to sell my old frame, seat post, and back rack for 40 soles, which covered the cost of putting the bike back together again and replacing some tubes as well.

Paul later informed me that that was about double of what I should have been charged. Oh well, with Gringos the price always seems to go up. I hate having to question every charge I get. I don’t know. I guess it’s not in my nature, but I could be saving some money if I just automatically haggle over every expense.

The bummer of the day was that my wallet disappeared briefly. I paid to have the bike put together. I walked a block away to see Paul and show him the new bike. It was then I reached for my wallet to pull out a business card and I noticed it was gone.

Just after I sent an email to my brother to cancel my credit cards, it mysteriously ended up at the hotel (minus the cash that was in there—about 140 soles or $40)

I lucked out.

Some sympathy for the gringo—the loose cash was too much of a temptation for someone though. The cabbie that returned it said some little kids returned it to them and he drove around until he found me. I had no loose cash for a tip though. He didn’t seem too overly concerned. It goes to show there are good people everywhere. I can see it being a tough to leave the cash in the wallet. Seventy Soles here is a week’s wages to many people here. I spend more than that in a typical day… (Not counting new frames)

The day was pretty much a relaxing one. I had lots of Internet, a few meals and some reorganizing some gear. The new frame cannot handle a back rack, so I plan to strap my laundry dry bag on top of my BOB bag. I still have the original front fork so the front rack is still in tact.

I also discovered that I might need to get a new crank set. The new frame has a slightly wider bottom bracket housing and the front derailleur can’t seem to get in to the highest gear. If I ever use that gear, I may just need to reach down and use my hand to change gears until I figure something out.

I notice that on this bike I tend to sit upright. It seems quite comfortable this way. We will see how a few days of riding will feel like on my knees and back. It was tough to beat my old set up. I do like the look and design of this new frame, though.

I’ve investigated a short cut, which could save me a day of riding. Originally planning to go to the city of Arequipa, there is a paved coastal route that will bypass that city. It will save me 6000 feet of climbing and dropping. It will save me about 60 miles of riding. However, as I’ve learned, I will also have to keep inquiring with many different sources up until the junction.

I still plan to be out of Peru by February 20th or so.

Upon later inspection, I did discover that my ATM card for my checking account was missing but all of the cards were there. Apparently, they had tried to use it.

Monday, February 11, 2002 -- Day 242 – Hotel -- Yauca, Arequipa, Peru – cycled 77 miles / 123 km

The day dragged. The winds, which treated me kindly last week, began strong and fierce after my first 20 miles. The first twenty miles I had completed before 8:00 a.m. Then my pace cut down to about 6 miles per hour for the rest of the day and did not let up.

There were absolutely no services whatsoever until I reached the town of Lomas, about 50 miles south of Nasca. I reached there about 1:30 p.m. Whereas it took me 2 hours to complete 20 miles, the next 30 miles took me five and a half hours. Not fun.

I was hoping there was going to be a cheap hotel, or any hotel for that matter in Lomas. No such luck. I continued down the road another 25 miles to the next town.

The town of Yauca was right on the coast. I arrived at about 6:00 p.m. after a slow going ride from Lomas. It is a town that has desert on one side and a thick olive orchard on the other. It had some very rustic accommodations for 10 soles per night. It would have to do. I can’t say it’s the worst accommodations on this trip, but it is in the bottom 10. This came with bucket flush toilets down the hall and a cold shower next to it. Lots of sand flies (chiggers) outside as well as people have been telling me to be careful and showing me all the little bumps on their skin.

When I stopped at a little pop shop to ask for a hotel, many of the town people here congregated around to ask questions. Again, I had three little high school girls, wanting to sit next to me and ask questions. It seems to be the norm lately. Maybe I am sending off my little girl pheromones and not knowing it. One girl kept practicing her English – One sentence she repeated over and over again. “Can you speak English” I don’t think she knew what it meant, because when I said, “Yes I do, Can you?” she didn’t know what to say next.

I’ve had a bout of diarrhea today, which also complicated the ride. I was very achy and had a headache most of the day because of it. I had really been hoping to stop in Lomas earlier, but putting up a tent in the sand dunes did not sound like a good option. I am definitely going to get to bed early tonight. (See photo 1917)

Tuesday, February 12, 2002 – Day 243 – Hotel -- Chala, Arequipa, Peru – cycled 30 miles / 48 km (See Arequipa / Tacna Map)

Today was one of my worst days on the trip. It was my birthday also. I had gone to bed at 7:00 p.m., hoping the rest would allow my body to fight and kill whatever was thriving in my bowels. No such luck. I had to repeatedly get up to use the disgusting toilet throughout the night.

I knew when I awoke, at 5:30, it was not going to be a good day. I was weak. My back ached. I had the chills a bit. I slept in until about 7:30 a.m. I asked the hotel owner if they had a médico in the village. I figured I’d stay another day until this thing shakes off.

After talking to the owner for a bit, while I patched my front tire, he actually tried to talk me in to not seeing the doctor. He just recommended a diet of bread and water. He thought they might have some Gatorade in the store in the town square. I was really craving that. He also recommended to cycle on about 30 miles to a beach town that was further south. Thought I would enjoy it better than here.

By 8:30 a.m., I was feeling better. I thought a bit about the hotel owner’s suggestion. Since it was not that far, I figured if I took all day and rested often, it would not be a bad ride.

I was off. It was a beautiful ride as a volcano sat right on the beach and the road carved its way through the lava flow. This consisted of about 1000 feet of net elevation climb along many hairpin turns. The edge of the water was way down below to the right.

I wish I could fully appreciate the beauty of the day’s ride, but I was so achy and sore, and out of energy that I could only focus on that. I could not find any Gatorade in town, but I had plenty of water. I must have drunk 4 liters of water today, but never went to the bathroom once. I also bought some plain bread, but it was hard to swallow, as I had virtually no appetite.

I stopped many times throughout the day. There was very little shade within the landscape with its many boulders and rock pinnacles. I made sure I had plenty of sun block on. I stopped in two different restaurants and just had aqua mineral con gas to settle my stomach. The only thing I ate during the ride was the two pieces of bread. For the first time on this whole trip, I really wished I were at home.

Coming off the lava flow, I could see for about 10 miles, as the road appeared to wind its way down and then parallel along the coastline to Chala, which according to the GPS was about 7 miles away as the crow flies. The mountains along the coast wreak havoc with the winds. Sometimes they were against me; sometimes with me. I know they were light compared to yesterday.

I took the first hostal I saw as I came into town – a bargain at $2.50. Later I realized there were nicer hotels south a bit, with hot water, TV, and a good view of the ocean, which would have been nice on my birthday, but Oh well. A good bed is a good bed. Although this evening I am feeling much better, I will still probably be out like a light early tonight. I hope whatever I have blows over by morning, for there is two more days of remote travel to the next little city. There are eight more days until I reach the next city of any significant size.

Wednesday, February 13, 2002 -- Day 244 – Primitive Camp -- near Atico, Arequipa, Peru – cycled 67 miles / 107 km

I was baptized the day after I was born, so today is an anniversary for my baptism. I don’t know the specifics, but I was told later in life that I had a collapsed lung and was placed in an incubator for some time. Because they thought I wouldn’t make it, a doctor and nurse that I do not know to this day became my godparents. Who would have thought that 37 years to the day, I would be testing my lungs to their fullest capacity.

I thought a bit and realized I was very sick last year during my birthday. I had been traveling to Sleetmute to do some testing. My housemate Carol Westjohn called them and told them it was my birthday. Bambi Hill, prepared a nice meal for me. Something I will never forget. Therefore, even though I was sick, it was still special. I still went to bed in a sleeping bag not feeling too well. Perhaps it is an absolute that I be in agony on my birthday and be considerably better the day after. I don’t know.

Today was an awesome day. The geology was incredible as the high Andes for the most part meet the ocean, not leaving too much room for a road. At times, it was a steep drop on my right and a steep climb to my left. (See photos 1918, 1919, 1920 and 1921)

I awoke and was on the road early as usual. Feeling better but still weak, I ate some of the bread I purchased the night before and was off. Without wind, and with lots of fog, the morning was still and colorful with the sun beating through the patches of fog. For the first 15 miles or so, the Pan-American Highway followed closely to a rocky shore without climbing off the beach, so the terrain was flat. Then occasionally the road would climb a windy rise to go around a cape that would stick out in to the sea.

I found a restaurant at about 9:30. I decided it was time to eat a regular meal, the first in about 2 days. Fish was the only thing on the menu, so needless to say, I had fried fish and rice. The coke I had was incredible. I have been craving something with sugar in it all morning. I think my body needed it. The young guy that waited on me took an interest in my gear, especially the GPS. I was surprised he knew what it was since no one else in Peru knew. He asked me to follow him out to where he was going to break ground to build a house. He wanted to know the coordinates of three different points. I thought it was a bit odd, but I found myself walking down the beach with him as he wrote the various coordinates down. He also was one of the few who knew that Alaska was part of the United States. He knew that it was cold in Alaska now and he knew that it was hot in Patagonia now. He also knew that on the Alaska flag, it had Ursa Major and the North Star on it as he pointed it out to me on my flag. I was quite impressed with what he knew. I gathered he was one of the few that I met in Peru that was highly educated. The restaurant did a very good business and the food was quite delicious. This was also rare in Peru.

The winds did pick up in the afternoon, but not too bad. I biked leisurely for most of the afternoon. The town of Atico was too close to spend the night and Ocoña was too far away, so I figured I would camp tonight.

As I was cycling the last 10-mile stretch, I ran across another cyclist heading south. I did not catch this Italian man’s name, but hopefully he will email when he gets back to Italy. (See photo 1922) I received some valuable information from him about cycling south into Chile. It has alleviated some concern that I had.

For starters, basic sanitation and drinking water will improve immensely. In Chile, one can drink out of the faucet. He also claimed that the Atacama Desert, which is in the northern part of Chile, is quite spectacular and calm. In fact, he said that today was the first day he encountered winds. What a treat this will be for me. He directed me to some routes to take which will be quite gorgeous. I am told that Chile as a whole is incredible.

On the downside, he told me about his experience cycling across Patagonia and told me of the horrendous winds that pulled him across the highway and into a 5-foot deep ditch in a matter of a split second. It did not sound too promising.

He told me of two cyclists about 120 miles ahead of me. One is Dutch; the other is Canadian. They are also trying to make it to Tierra del Fuego before winter sets in. I am going to try to catch these guys. Apparently, they are split up. One is about 100 miles ahead of the other. They met up north somewhere but occasionally split up for whatever reason.

This man, who has cycled much of South America did not speak highly of Peru at all. He was only going north because he has to fly home from Lima.

Tonight I am camping on a shelf about 50 feet up from the shoreline. The highway is up about 50 feet and over 200 feet from me on the other side. The mountains on the other side of the highway stretch up to about 3000 feet.

I had to clean my international stove for the first time on this trip. An easy process compared to my last stove, which was a whisperlite. I have been burning unleaded gas with it, so perhaps I will be cleaning it more often as white gas is not common in South America. Besides 60 cents worth of gas can last me a few weeks.

Tonight as I type, the sunset was incredible, followed by a thin sliver of a moon. Orion sits high above my head. The sounds of the ocean will put me to sleep tonight. Happy baptism to me. (see photos 1923, 1924 and 1925)

Thursday, February 14, 2002 – Day 245 – Hotel -- Camaná, Arequipa, Peru – cycled 71 miles / 114 km

I am as healthy as a horse. Good ride today. I especially thought the morning was incredibly scenic! I didn’t even mind the headwind in the afternoon. I actually had an appetite today too.

I have a great expensive room tonight with hot water and a comfortable bed. Not much else to add. Happy Valentines Day! (See photo 1926, 1927 and 1928)

Friday, February 15, 2002 – Day 246 – Primitive Camp -- near Vitor, Arequipa, Peru – cycled 73 miles / 118 km

Since the sun has gone down over the canyon wall, the temperature has dropped considerably. In fact, I am down right cold -- the first time in a while. I climbed into the sleeping bag as I type this journal entry.

Currently I am camping in a desert canyon near the Vitor River Valley, a huge canyon that slices through the Peruvian desert as it transfers water from the Andes to the Pacific. I had the remaining macaroni noodles mixed with some mushroom soup mix and some 2-day-old bread. Yum.

I awoke this morning with the expectation of finding a restaurant near the hotel that served breakfast. I thought it would be a great idea to eat in normal clothes, and then go back to the room to change before I left on the bike. As I had discovered almost every other day, there is no such thing as a restaurant that serves breakfast in Peru.

I cannot quite figure it out, because many people are out on the streets early, working or on their way to work. One would think a little coffee shop would be the perfect thing. No. All businesses within several blocks of the hotel are closed at 7:00 a.m.

Wait a minute. There is a shop open that sells car batteries. Can’t get a cup of coffee, but I can buy a diehard.

I bought bottled water and a candy bar from a street vendor and went back to get in my cycle clothes. I left the hotel, hungry. About 10 miles down there were many roadside eateries. Some were open. I stopped at one to see if I could get something to eat. They guy behind the counter looked at me as though I had asked a question that was impossible to answer. Apparently, he was just open to sell pop and did not want to sell food. Breakfast is truly a foreign concept here in Peru.

I finally found a place where the proprietor cooked me up some fried chicken. It was the closest thing to breakfast that she had to offer. That along with the French fries, rice and coke, was very good.

There were some Pirañas out front that had been waiting for me (I had been warned) I began to talk to them and showed them all sorts of cool things about the bike. I am not sure if they were going to attack me for money but by the time they left, they were not interested anymore. (See photo 1931)

My next major task was to find the coastal route. I had been planning and inquiring for days about taking “the coastal” route rather than “the Arequipa” route. The Arequipa route would take me inland about 60 miles and up about 5000 feet. The coastal route according to the map was shorter and of course did rise significantly in elevation.

I had asked often about the coastal road. I was told by all that it was paved and flat along the coast. It was as good as the Pan American highway. In reality, the coastal road was a four-wheel drive road, in the sand. There is no way a bike with 90 lbs of gear is going to follow.

I spent most of the morning climbing up a 3300-foot climb in 10 miles. It was 11:00 a.m. before I reached the summit. I was low on water.

Up top of the plateau, however, it had flattened out with a gradual drop of 100 feet over 20 miles. With the wind at my back for the first time in days, I cranked at about 15 miles per hour for the next 2 hours. Was that ever great!

Another thing I noticed about Peruvian restaurants is that when you order a gaseosa or a carbonated beverage, they always ask if you want it served cold or helado. I find this a strange question, because I have never heard anyone say, “No, serve it to me warm” I cannot imagine anyone drinking warm soda. Especially here in the desert.

Today when I was in a restaurant for lunch, they had an incredible display of sodas up on the table. I pointed to a cola and asked for a cold one. She came back and said they did not have any. I pointed to three others including bottled water and asked individually, each time for a cold one. Each time she came back and said they didn’t have any. Finally, I asked what they did have. “Inca Cola” was the only thing they had on ice. There were cases upon cases of other pop in the restaurant. None of them was on ice.

Now if you had never heard of Inca Cola, it looks like Mountain Dew, but tastes more like Antifreeze, with some pineapple in it. I personally think it was the real reason the Inca Empire fell. Because it was the only cold drink she had, I drank it happily. I am glad they had small ones on ice.

The few towns I passed through today had no accommodations whatsoever. I had to camp in the desert. It didn’t take long to find a nice side canyon away from the traffic. Another beautiful day in the land that time forgot. (See photos 1932, 1933 and 1934)

Saturday, February 16, 2002 -- Day 247 – Primitive Camp near El Toro, Arequipa, Peru – cycled 76 miles / 122 km

Sometimes you get in the cycling groove and you just do not want to stop. I get that way about once a day. It is during that time that when people wave at you and scream at you to stop; you just keep going.

The only stopper to this strategy is when the police wave you down. In Peru, there exists the Policia Nacional Carretera (National Highway Police). They have some nice Toyota Land Cruisers and they just sit off to the side of the road and wait… Wait for cyclists like me to pass.

At first, I just attempt to wave back. Then they obviously get more frantic and wave with their hands flapping down. I know they just want to talk. Sometimes our conversations, even though I do not say much, carry on for up to 30 minutes. They want to know everything about Usama Bin Laden, New York, George Bush, Peruvians living in the US, what bears look like, what Eskimos look like -- the usual.

I guess I should not complain. At least they are not sticking a nightstick into my side and going for my wallet.

Services in southern Peru are scarce. I cycled for two days and saw no hotels whatsoever. A restaurant will appear every 30 – 40 miles, which is good because I can buy water, bread, batteries for the GPS and MP3 player. I can also get a good meal in, which lately has either been chicken and rice or a breakfast steak and rice.

Due to these lacks of services, I camped again out in the desert. I can honestly say I get a better night's sleep in the tent, mainly because there is not much to do but go to bed early. A downfall is that there is no wash water in the desert. After I work on the bike and eat, I have become quite efficient at washing my hands with a little gas and very little water. (See photos 1935, 1936 and 1937)

Sunday, February 17, 2002 – Day 248 – Hotel -- Moquegua, Moquegua, Peru – cycled 44 miles / 71 km

More high cool desert riding (See photos 1938 and 1939)

Monday, February 18, 2003 – Day 249 – Hotel -- Moquegua, Moquegua, Peru – rest day (See photos 1940 and 1941)

This morning I reevaluated my day’s ride and decided to stop midday in the city of Moquegua. The thought of a bed and hot shower was just too tempting.

Things have gone amazing smooth the past 4 days.

In three days, I should be out of Peru.

Tuesday, February 19, 2002 – Day 250 – Motel -- Tacna, Tacna, Peru – cycled 100 miles / 161 km

I met a man yesterday, a white man of Irish descent, who had grown up in the area. We did not speak long, but I gathered he was interested of being engaged in an English conversation. He said he lived south of town about 10 miles and that he and his wife would like me over for breakfast as I cycled by.

I left a little earlier than usual so I would have time to stop and visit. Somewhere along the line, I misinterpreted his directions because I missed his house. I never did find it. I had really been looking forward to his pancake breakfast that he was offering.

I pressed on. Originally I had planned to camp somewhere in between Tacna and Moquegua, because it was a 100 miles between cities. I soon discovered there was absolutely nothing in between, not even a restaurant.

The conditions were great. There was a slight descent for the first 15 miles. Although there was some climbing later, the winds were low and the grades were not steep. Since there were no services, I didn’t waste anytime stopping to eat or drink.

I ended up traveling the 100 miles to Tacna today, getting there relatively early. I think pouring on the extra miles was worth the hotel room and hot shower.

Tacna seems to be a college town. (See photos 1942 and 1943) There were lots of little eateries and bookstores. I noticed some tourists here as well. I thought that I should have taken my day off here instead of Moquegua. After a good dinner and a stop off at an awesome bakery, I went back to the room to check out some HBO and Cinemax. Maybe it was all the mileage I put on that day, but I ended up going to that bakery two more times that night. I ate like a horse.

Since tomorrow, I only have to go about 40 miles into Arica, I think I will sleep in a little.