Our first crossing of Punta Olimpica in May rewarded us with tantalising views such as this:
…..try…
Then on crossing the pass in the opposite direction with Peter in August, we are treated to slightly more sun on the climb:
Cycling to the glaciers on Contrahierbas. At this stage we were optimistic that we might have an enjoyable trip over the pass.
Then the weather closes in as we reach the unpaved section above the new tunnel. What had been perfectly rideable back in May turns out to be slightly less so now the authorities don’t clear the road of rock fall. Here’s Neil failing to get started – not much traction on snow when you stupidly stop in your lowest gear.
Some of the 2.5km of ripio to the top is still rideable…
Though not the steep corners. The only snow-free parts of the road are where the streams are running down it.
Near the top the snow is just too deep to ride. (Here’s Pete enjoying a lovely summer holiday.)
But eventually we make it to the top. Slightly later than expected.
The descent begins, and initially isn’t particularly rideable. But at least at this stage it’s 10C and we’re still warm. Then we reach the tarmac, the temperature plummets to 2C and our soaking wet feet turn to ice. We endure a miserable descent to Chacas in the driving rain. ‘This is the worst experience of my life’ says Peter through chattering teeth. Which amused us slightly, as it appeared to have replaced his previous ‘worst experience’ – climbing Parinacota in Bolivia with us in 2010.
(To give an idea of the unlikeliness of the existence of Punta Olimpica, here’s a short transcript of a conversation we had on the way up. After climbing 15 switchbacks from the valley floor, Punta Olimpica comes into view.
Pike (always excitable at such moments): Look, Pete, the pass!
PSL: I can’t see it.
Pike: Yeah you can, the low point on the ridge over there.
PSL: I still can’t see it.
Pike: What do you mean? It’s the low point there on the skyline.
PSL (raises eyes by a few hundred vertical metres): What? You mean we’re going OVER the mountain?!
Pike: Yes! You’re going to love it!)
The next day we find some lovely dirt road cycling in Conchucos:
But not all is rosy. After a fiery argument about who copied who in the fashion department, P Lighting and H Pike decide to go their separate ways.
We stop for some pop and meet a rare gregarious villager. I snap a photo of her sack of maize. Some free ice cream and popcorn and a half hour chat later we continue to Alpabamba.
On deserted roads.
Which we have completely to ourselves.
Some cheeky lads in Cochaocro threaten to cut our throats.
So we escape at speed.
- To Alpabamba. Not much concrete and steel on show here.
Plenty of adobe and tiles though.
And (surprise surprise) some political graffiti. Vote pot!
36km to…? We never found out where.
The road descends 500m.
To the main San Luis road.
Which isn’t really much busier, but brings a change in that we have a few hours of climbing.
….try again…
Then we have to hot-foot it home for Pete’s flight back to the UK, throwing our bikes on the roof of a bus from San Luis to Huaraz. We reach the new Tunel Olimpica just after dawn on a crisp and perfectly clear morning, which reveals unparalleled panoramas of the largest peaks in the Blanca. Snap decisions are made. Stop the bus! Let us out! The 2,000m cruise down to Carhuaz on two wheels is ‘the best experience’ of Pete’s life. Phew, holiday saved.
Here’s a few shots of that unforgettable descent:
The start of the 2,000m descent from Punta Olimpica to Carhuaz. Chopicalqui is the mountain we’re aiming at – Huascaran is still hidden round the corner.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
But soon Peru’s (and the tropics’) highest mountain appears, dominating the north side of the valley.
Flying down the tarmac. So it was worth flying out to Peru for a fortnight after all!
We’ve never cycled anything quite like it…
900m of descent on perfect tarmac switchbacks, down to the river in Quebrada Ulta.
Huascaran, looming over 2,500m above.
Some 6,000ers, some quenuales, a bike, no traffic…it doesn’t get much better than this.
It’s nice being able to lie down in the middle of a tarmac road. There’s little traffic, and even when something does pass you get plenty of warning it’s coming – 5km away by road = a few hundred metres above/below in a straight line.
If you get bored of the middle of the road, then lying in the storm drains works too…as long as you don’t mind a few confused looks from the roadworkers.
The road to Huascaran…
…is long and winding…
Haz manages to frame the Surly in my wheel quite nicely.
Some rules are made to be broken.
While maybe there should be rules banning certain other reckless behaviours. Look Ma: No Hands! (At 50kph…)
After 40km with almost no pedalling we begin to reach civilization again. Here’s a common Peruvian scene: sheep, cows, big mine company 4×4…
We hit another traffic jam on the way to Shilla. It was 09:00 and all the campesinos were heading out to their chacras for the day. Soon we’re in Carhuaz, and dismantling bikes for the taxi ride back home.
Amazing! When it clears, it really clears! The detail is so sharp and devoid of smog! Fingers crossed for April 2014!
Yep, it’s amazing up there! If you’re willing to wait around a few days you’re bound to get some clear days in April. Insh’Allah. See you there!