Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Peru...Cursed?
Jim has been to Peru many times on climbing trips and has a very strong opinion about the country.
"Peru is cursed."
Having been out of the saddle for over a month stuck in Quito I missed the challenge of two-wheeled travel in the third world. I knew what he was talking about though"the unexplainable power some places have to muddle your plans, shake your will and destroy your digestive system is something I am very familiar with having rode Central America (well off the Gringo Trail). It is tiring writing about the knit-pick so I have generally leave most of those sour grapes out of my Road Diary to ferment in my mind"Nevermore.
Truth is, travel is mostly about finding interest and humor in the difficulty and oddities that breed beyond the warm walls of your living-room. Like a Gilligan"s Island plot twist, setbacks can be hilarious when you expect them or at least acknowledge that they could occur.
"Well Thurstun, at least it"s not raining"" (Sound thunder and hurricane winds)
Or, a more Latin American foil"
"Man, not only is there no toilet paper or toilet seat, but there is an old lady sleeping in the stall! (Cue thunder and hurricane winds from rider"s stomach)"
You can"t make this stuff up"
For this very reason it is so much more pleasurable riding with a partner, for at least there is an audience of one that is constantly erupting in laughter at the expense of the other"s sitcom happenstances. Alas, Peru has got to be the longest running comedy on the circuit. So much harmless (mostly) misfortune that ones belly hurts from bittersweet laughter. It is important to note that the longer you ride in a given day the greater chance the fates have to throw you a curveball. It is in this regard that we were up at bat quite a bit having covered over 2,000 miles in just under 7 days on the road from Quito to Machu Picchu.
OK, some grapes for the people at home!
The first gas-up in Bolivia had Jim jumping off his bike, shaking his fists in the air and calling the gas guy a thief.
"Ladrone, tu eres un ladron hombre!"
Apparently when Jim was in country last the gas rang in at about $2.00 a gallon. At $5.00 a gallon we too were calling for the president to resign and the gas guys to pump and offer a free meal or at least a windscreen cleaning. To put the recent tax hikes in perspective, a huge 2 trout filet lunch with salad, rice, beans and papas fritas costs about $2.00"for both of us! A hotel room with double beds, hot water (more on this later) and coffee or coca leaf tea in the morning can you run upwards of $4.00. While a beer will set you back a cool $1.50. Traveling as we do, the gas and beer stipend accounted for approximately 90% of our daily expenses. Truckers all over the country are at odds with the world.
In Peru"s defense, they are throwing down tarmac all over the place. For the first time during my entire trip, the maps painted a rougher road than actually exists. The Nasca to Cusco (Machu Picchu) path is drawn up in our maps as dirt with numerous water crossings while the Lonely Planet guide warns it is Bandit Alley"In reality however, the 400 mile path through the mountains was some of the most dramatic and sidewall grinding road I have ridden this side of Pound Ridge, NY. True, children were raining rocks and sticks down on our heads from cliffs and behind the banks of swollen gullies, but I think they just wanted us to stop and chase them for a little excitement.
Less innocent however are the dogs that lay in wait to Kamikaze your front wheel so that their cronies and get a bite of a limp rider as ricochets down the village road.
At one point the attacks were so frequent and precise that we pulled over to discuss tactics to outsmart these darting demons.
Basically it boiled down to two courses of action- the straight shot right over them (THUMP-THUMP) or the more humane option known as Operation Das BOOT. The later is more like a high speed game of joisting. Stiff leg fully extended, you try to gauge the acute trajectory of the incoming animal so that their snarling mug makes direct contact with your boot as opposed to your spokes. I have evoked Das BOOT twice, and watched the poor bastards walk away slightly dazed and hopefully aware of the danger they pose to themselves when they lay chase.
One unlucky animal however was administed The Ol" Whirly-Gig as it has come to be known. Standing on the side of the road with a full doggy hard-on and bugged out eyes fixed on the lead rider, it was clear that this Peruvian pooch was going to get after it and he did. Riding staggered with Jim in the lead I saw the whole thing develop, but could not do anything to avoid the hit. With a slow strut the dog positions himself in the middle of the road and started to gallop to make a sweeping entrance just as the rider is about to pass. Das BOOT extended, Jim twists the throttle and just barley gets the front wheel past the speeding dog. Still in full sprint down the middle of the road chasing Jim"s exhaust the poor guy made a costly change in strategy. Having given up the chase, he cut back across my lane to the side of the road. THWAT! Being the second rider in the staggered caravan I got clean up duty. Unable to swerve out of the way, my cylinder head sent the dog airborne flipping end over end and sliding across the road with audible yelps. Enter The Ol" Whirly-Gig. Sad but true, the curse applies to animals as well"Still, I like to think he is chowing down on a thick steak that fell from a meat truck, maybe with a slight back ache or sore tail.
Then there are the more tiresome mishaps that seem to occur more often in Peru than elsewhere"a curse" Jim gets two flats in two days. We get stuck riding through a 200 mile stretch of desert in the dark and cold due to poor directions from a taxi driver. I get my camera lifted from my tank bag as I stand but 3 feet away. Counterfeit money, counterfeit Marlboros, electrocutions in the shower, cheese tastes funny, coffee is grey, the change is always incorrect, cops like to pull you over to chat about the weather, the rain, the blank stares, incessant horn honking, deafening music from every corner store, street kids, trash heaps, uncomfortable Chuck-Tailor knock offs, choice of dinner-green or red stuff"ENOUGH!
Then of course, just when you start to believe that there really is a curse, Machu Pichu appears over the horizon. The train ride threw the green mountains catches a powerful ray of sun that puts you to sleep. A baby llama wearing a vest(") stares curiously at you as you break threw the 14,000 vertical feet mark. Impressed little kids insist you come over for dinner and hug your leg as you mount your bike to leave. Fuzzy alpaca scarves. The Victory lap standing on our pegs through Cusco"s ancient Plaza de Armas. Paintings of Jesus at the Last Supper eating a guinea pig. A complementary piece of creamy mocha cake, shy smiles from red-cheeked cuties, pollo a la brassa, sunset on Lake Titicaca, coca leaf buzz, 3 wheeled motorcycle taxis, wolf sightings in the highlands, curvas peligrosas"
At the end of the day, my belly is aching from laughing at our misfortunes and my cheeks are kinked from smiling at my good fortune of being able to ride Peru.
posted by Xavier - RoadWarrior on 8:36 PM
"Peru is cursed."
Having been out of the saddle for over a month stuck in Quito I missed the challenge of two-wheeled travel in the third world. I knew what he was talking about though"the unexplainable power some places have to muddle your plans, shake your will and destroy your digestive system is something I am very familiar with having rode Central America (well off the Gringo Trail). It is tiring writing about the knit-pick so I have generally leave most of those sour grapes out of my Road Diary to ferment in my mind"Nevermore.
Truth is, travel is mostly about finding interest and humor in the difficulty and oddities that breed beyond the warm walls of your living-room. Like a Gilligan"s Island plot twist, setbacks can be hilarious when you expect them or at least acknowledge that they could occur.
"Well Thurstun, at least it"s not raining"" (Sound thunder and hurricane winds)
Or, a more Latin American foil"
"Man, not only is there no toilet paper or toilet seat, but there is an old lady sleeping in the stall! (Cue thunder and hurricane winds from rider"s stomach)"
You can"t make this stuff up"
For this very reason it is so much more pleasurable riding with a partner, for at least there is an audience of one that is constantly erupting in laughter at the expense of the other"s sitcom happenstances. Alas, Peru has got to be the longest running comedy on the circuit. So much harmless (mostly) misfortune that ones belly hurts from bittersweet laughter. It is important to note that the longer you ride in a given day the greater chance the fates have to throw you a curveball. It is in this regard that we were up at bat quite a bit having covered over 2,000 miles in just under 7 days on the road from Quito to Machu Picchu.
OK, some grapes for the people at home!
The first gas-up in Bolivia had Jim jumping off his bike, shaking his fists in the air and calling the gas guy a thief.
"Ladrone, tu eres un ladron hombre!"
Apparently when Jim was in country last the gas rang in at about $2.00 a gallon. At $5.00 a gallon we too were calling for the president to resign and the gas guys to pump and offer a free meal or at least a windscreen cleaning. To put the recent tax hikes in perspective, a huge 2 trout filet lunch with salad, rice, beans and papas fritas costs about $2.00"for both of us! A hotel room with double beds, hot water (more on this later) and coffee or coca leaf tea in the morning can you run upwards of $4.00. While a beer will set you back a cool $1.50. Traveling as we do, the gas and beer stipend accounted for approximately 90% of our daily expenses. Truckers all over the country are at odds with the world.
In Peru"s defense, they are throwing down tarmac all over the place. For the first time during my entire trip, the maps painted a rougher road than actually exists. The Nasca to Cusco (Machu Picchu) path is drawn up in our maps as dirt with numerous water crossings while the Lonely Planet guide warns it is Bandit Alley"In reality however, the 400 mile path through the mountains was some of the most dramatic and sidewall grinding road I have ridden this side of Pound Ridge, NY. True, children were raining rocks and sticks down on our heads from cliffs and behind the banks of swollen gullies, but I think they just wanted us to stop and chase them for a little excitement.
Less innocent however are the dogs that lay in wait to Kamikaze your front wheel so that their cronies and get a bite of a limp rider as ricochets down the village road.
At one point the attacks were so frequent and precise that we pulled over to discuss tactics to outsmart these darting demons.
Basically it boiled down to two courses of action- the straight shot right over them (THUMP-THUMP) or the more humane option known as Operation Das BOOT. The later is more like a high speed game of joisting. Stiff leg fully extended, you try to gauge the acute trajectory of the incoming animal so that their snarling mug makes direct contact with your boot as opposed to your spokes. I have evoked Das BOOT twice, and watched the poor bastards walk away slightly dazed and hopefully aware of the danger they pose to themselves when they lay chase.
One unlucky animal however was administed The Ol" Whirly-Gig as it has come to be known. Standing on the side of the road with a full doggy hard-on and bugged out eyes fixed on the lead rider, it was clear that this Peruvian pooch was going to get after it and he did. Riding staggered with Jim in the lead I saw the whole thing develop, but could not do anything to avoid the hit. With a slow strut the dog positions himself in the middle of the road and started to gallop to make a sweeping entrance just as the rider is about to pass. Das BOOT extended, Jim twists the throttle and just barley gets the front wheel past the speeding dog. Still in full sprint down the middle of the road chasing Jim"s exhaust the poor guy made a costly change in strategy. Having given up the chase, he cut back across my lane to the side of the road. THWAT! Being the second rider in the staggered caravan I got clean up duty. Unable to swerve out of the way, my cylinder head sent the dog airborne flipping end over end and sliding across the road with audible yelps. Enter The Ol" Whirly-Gig. Sad but true, the curse applies to animals as well"Still, I like to think he is chowing down on a thick steak that fell from a meat truck, maybe with a slight back ache or sore tail.
Then there are the more tiresome mishaps that seem to occur more often in Peru than elsewhere"a curse" Jim gets two flats in two days. We get stuck riding through a 200 mile stretch of desert in the dark and cold due to poor directions from a taxi driver. I get my camera lifted from my tank bag as I stand but 3 feet away. Counterfeit money, counterfeit Marlboros, electrocutions in the shower, cheese tastes funny, coffee is grey, the change is always incorrect, cops like to pull you over to chat about the weather, the rain, the blank stares, incessant horn honking, deafening music from every corner store, street kids, trash heaps, uncomfortable Chuck-Tailor knock offs, choice of dinner-green or red stuff"ENOUGH!
Then of course, just when you start to believe that there really is a curse, Machu Pichu appears over the horizon. The train ride threw the green mountains catches a powerful ray of sun that puts you to sleep. A baby llama wearing a vest(") stares curiously at you as you break threw the 14,000 vertical feet mark. Impressed little kids insist you come over for dinner and hug your leg as you mount your bike to leave. Fuzzy alpaca scarves. The Victory lap standing on our pegs through Cusco"s ancient Plaza de Armas. Paintings of Jesus at the Last Supper eating a guinea pig. A complementary piece of creamy mocha cake, shy smiles from red-cheeked cuties, pollo a la brassa, sunset on Lake Titicaca, coca leaf buzz, 3 wheeled motorcycle taxis, wolf sightings in the highlands, curvas peligrosas"
At the end of the day, my belly is aching from laughing at our misfortunes and my cheeks are kinked from smiling at my good fortune of being able to ride Peru.
posted by Xavier - RoadWarrior on 8:36 PM
