With our passports and bikes stamped into Peru, we set off down the road, unsure of how far we would make it (see last blog post). As is often the case, the more people we asked about the roadblock, the wider variety of conflicting answers we received. What we did know was that mango and lime farmers were protesting price margins and were likely to turn our "easy riding day" into something a bit more interesting.
All was going well until we got to a small town about 50 km over the border called Las Lomas. Just after the town, the farmers had laid trees and stones across the road and were standing around chatting and playing gatekeeper to all of the vehicles attempting to make their way through. We were pleasantly surprised when we saw how poor of a job they had done actually blocking the road until we found out that this was just the first of many more, larger roadblocks down the way. They said they would let us through the roadblock, but they couldn't promise everyone else would do the same for all of the subsequent ones. We also learned that these protests sometimes last two to three DAYS! Other stranded travelers mentioned an alternative off-road route, but the road they kept referencing wasn't showing up on our maps so we had no way of knowing if it would actually take us where we wanted to go. Thus, we turned around and rode back into Las Lomas to assess our options.
A couple of police officers we had talked with on the way back mentioned that there was a chance an agreement would be reached by 4:00PM and the roads would be cleared. Not wanting to admit defeat just yet, and unable to find any establishment with WiFi, we decided to wait it out in the town square, people watching and keeping our fingers crossed. It turned out to be a rather entertaining afternoon once 3:00PM rolled around and all of the local school children started passing through the plaza. After a few minutes of not so subtle staring and giggling, each group would eventually come up and ask us questions, wanting to know where we were from and why we were here (Las Lomas is a very small town and foreigners are a rare sighting). Before we knew it, we were surrounded by kids, each one wanting to take a selfie with us.
Just before 4:00PM, we hopped onto the bikes and headed to the roadblock for the third time that day. Unsurprisingly, not much had changed, and we begrudgingly headed back into town to find a hotel for the night. We spent the evening eating our first of many lomo saltados (a Peruvian dish comprised of beef, tomatoes, french fries, and onions) and chatting with more of the locals.
The next morning, we got an early start and rode the 10km toward the roadblock (this was our 4th time if anyone is counting) hoping that they had reached an agreement and cleared the road. To our surprise, there were no protesters in sight and we saw a gap in the roadblock where trees and rocks had been pulled aside - we rode through with a rush of enthusiasm expecting a smooth ride ahead!
Our enthusiasm quickly subsided as we approached a fourth roadblock less then 1 kilometer up the road that was impeding traffic. We spoke to some locals who were adamant that the farmers would let us through, and others who said there were up to 20 similar roadblocks along the route. Not wanting to negotiate our passage through every roadblock only to potentially be stopped (and trapped) at the 19th, we decided that the only certain course of action was to turn around and head for the dirt road we had heard about the day before. While adding much more distance and time, at least getting to our destination would be entirely up to our abilities to ride and navigate, not the disposition of groups of angry farmers.
We turned back in the direction of Las Lomas and in the 10 minutes since we'd ridden through the first roadblock protesters had appeared and re-constructed it. This further validated our decision to hit the dirt road, and after negotiating our way back through, we picked up the track just outside the city and proceeded through what we hoped would be 45km (but could easily turn into 90km) of dusty gravel roads.
We were making good progress until we hit, you guessed it, another roadblock out in the middle of nowhere. About 10 men were huddled around some branches in the "road" as we approached, glaring at us - each one sucking on an ice cream (note: it is hard to look intimidating while licking a popsicle stick). Brian once again tried to negotiate the way through this comical roadblock - we really wish we had had our cameras running for this encounter. The men said they wanted money to let us pass, but Brian explained that we had spent the last of our cash on a hotel the previous night due to the protests (a lie). They sucked on their ice creams for a moment and decided they'd rather keep doing that than talking to us and pulled the branches off the road to let us through. We would encounter another roadblock like this further down the road and use the same line to get through. These guys weren't farmers, they struck us as opportunists who were just trying to make a quick buck.
After 45km of dirt, we reached a spot we were hoping would connect to the main highway just north of the Pan-American Highway. We were instead treated to a fantastic paved road that took us straight into Sullana along rice fields and banana plantations for the next 45km. Once into Sullana, we made our way south through the city and received what you might call a stealth police escort. Two motorcycle cops followed us through the length of the city, perhaps a bit worried for our safety. A side note about Sullana: Since the Peruvian border, every single person who had learned we were going to Sullana had the same reaction of surprise and concern - pretty much calling it a den of thieves (verbatim). Because of it's reputation, we decided to meet Brian's family friend, Sylvana, for lunch at a shopping center with secure parking and picked a restaurant where we could see our bikes. Perhaps a bit unnecessary, but in a country where everyone gives you conflicting information all the time, you tend to pay attention when everyone agrees on something.
After a filling lunch and a nice reunion, we decided to press on toward Chiclayo, a three to four hour ride down the coast, and we had just enough time to make it before sunset. The ride offered our first taste of Peru's coastal road and the infamous winds that blow hard across the highway making riding a real chore and significantly affecting fuel economy - we had to buy some marked-up fuel of dubious quality from a restaurant at one point after only getting 240 km before the reserve came on on Brian's bike (when it usually kicks in at 320 km) in the middle of a desert road. We made it to our hotel just as the sun was setting.
The next morning I must have decided that the riding wasn't challenging enough, because I rolled my ankle while walking down the stairs to breakfast. I iced it right away, and it didn't hurt too badly, so we packed up the bikes and headed to Cajamarca as planned. Fortunately, it was my right ankle, which controls the back brake, and not my clutch foot, which is used constantly to shift gears while riding. The route that day took us through a low and very hot valley before climbing up into the mountains. I think the heat from the exhaust must have exacerbated my ankle's swelling, because after about four hours we had to stop due to pain, and I could barely walk on it. Brian creatively bought two popsicles from a roadside shop, and I iced it for another 15 mins before we continued on the rest of the way to Cajamarca.
Even with my ankle hurting, it was hard not to enjoy the ride with the gorgeous views surrounding us. We rode through a quaint river-side village with lush, expansive agriculture (a stark change from the desert we had just come from) and then began our ascent into the mountains past a beautiful lake surrounded by towering red rock features, climbing the 9,022 ft to Cajamarca.
That evening, I limped around the city as we stopped by the Plaza de Armas on our way to dinner. The city of Cajamarca, and the Plaza de Armas, have a very interesting history. Brian is a bit of a history buff and went down a wikipedia and documentary rabbit hole about the conquest of the Incan Empire by Francisco Pizarro and his unruly band of conquistadors. In a nutshell: Cajamarca and the main plaza are significant because the events that transpired there on November 16th, 1532 unequivocally began what was to be the downfall of the Incan Empire (the empire consisted of 10 million people across modern day Ecuador, Peru, and Chile). Pizarro and his 168 men, through cunning, deceit, and naivety on the part of the emperor, Atahualpa, lured him and 5-6000 of his unarmed entourage into the main square of the city while Atahualpa's 80,000 troops remained outside in the surrounding hills. When the time was right, Pizarro's infantry, cavalry, and cannons unleashed what can only be described as a massacre, slaughtering around 3,000 noble elites, capturing the emperor, and effectively decapitating the empire.
By the next morning, my ankle was feeling much better and I was able to put most of my weight on it without pain. We still took it pretty easy that day, hanging out in a local coffee shop before heading to see the room where Atahualpa was held for ransom. The room was filled with gold and silver for his release, but they executed him anyways, spurring the end of the Incan Empire.
With my ankle feeling even better the next morning, we loaded up the bikes to ride along the road to Chachapoyas (a road we had heard was one of the best riding roads in Peru). The road and the views did not disappoint as we took hairpin turn after hairpin turn along cliffs with over 1,000 ft drop-offs through multiple mountain passes. After a 10 hour day, including 8 of them on the bikes and a $1.66 haircut for Brian across from where we had lunch, we stopped for the night in a small town called Leymebamba, arriving just as the sun was setting. We found our cheapest lodging of the trip thus far and then headed out to the quaint and charming main plaza to find a place for dinner. After eating what must have been my eighth or ninth lomo saltado, we turned in for the night, tired from the day's excitement.
Our plan for the following day was to ride north to the Kuélap ruins, a walled settlement located in the mountains in the southern part of the Amazonas region. It was built by the Chachapoyas culture in the 6th century AD on a ridge overlooking the Utcubamba Valley. We had heard from our hostel owner that the road to the ruins might be closed in both directions from 7:00 am - 12:00 pm and again from 1:00 pm - 6:00 pm due to roadwork. He then called his construction friend who told him that they were not doing work that day since it was Saturday, so we should have no issues. After asking various people around the town to confirm this information, and once again getting very different reports, we decided to trust our hostel owner's friend, and at worst, hit the road at 12:00 pm when it opened for the workers' lunch break.
We attempted to head up the road to the ruins at 8:00 am, but not so surprisingly, we were stopped just 100 meters from the hostel by a friendly construction woman. She told us the road was in fact closed, but would be open for the rest of the day starting at 1:00 pm. Thus, we headed back toward the town to our pre-designated plan B: a coffee shop and "must-see" museum. After sitting in the coffee shop's outdoor courtyard doing some computer work and drinking the best coffee we'd had in Peru thus far, we headed across the street to the museum. Here, we were able to get up close and personal with some llamas and learn the history of the ancient Chachapoyas.
The word Chachapoyas is thought to come from the Quechua word for "cloud warriors", and is the name by which they were known to the Incas, because of the cloud forests they inhabited in what is now Northern Peru. The museum contained a very eerie room full of excavated mummies, expressions still on many of the faces, as mummification was performed on their dead so that they could be easily transported to important ceremonies.
Just before 1:00 pm, we hit the road for attempt #2 to see the Kuélap ruins. Knowing that the last cable car down from the ruins left at 4:00 pm, we had to get there fast. Luckily, the majority of the road there was a beautiful, winding road that was in great condition, which allowed us to make up some time. The last stretch, however, involved some very tight, steep hairpins through loose gravel - a challenge I did not enjoy. After making it through the precarious turns, we rushed into the station to get the literal last two tickets on the last bus up to the cable car, leaving in just three minutes (phew!).
The ride up to the ruins was absolutely breathtaking as the late evening sun cast shadows on the mountainside. By the time we got to the top, however, we only had about 45 mins before we had to be back to catch the last cable car down. Unfortunately, the ruins were about 2 km away from where the cable car dropped us off, and with my ankle slowing us down on all of the steps, we only made it to the external wall before having to turn back. Even still, it was a spectacular sight to see. We managed to make it back and catch, once again, the literal last car down. We made it back to Leymebamba just before they experienced a town-wide power outage. Luckily, the power outage only lasted for a few hours, during which we had a nice candle-lit dinner and did some epic star-gazing in the main square.
The next morning, we embarked on the long ride back to Cajamarca. We were very fortunate to get sunny, warm weather in both directions, since it is technically the rainy season. We stopped to take even more photos and fly the drone along the way.
We spent one more night in Cajamarca before heading west toward the coast to a city called Trujillo. We took the same gorgeous and winding road that we had taken into the city before turning south onto the dreaded windy coastal stretch of the Pan-American Highway. The wind was just as strong and miserable as before as we pushed our way into a headwind, toward Trujillo. We spent the evening people watching in the main plaza and eating some delicious Italian food from a chef from Naples (a welcome break from all of the Peruvian food).
We spent the following day planning for the upcoming week of riding and attempting to catch up on blogging. The next few days would be some of the best riding of the entire trip (and best riding EVER for me). Stay tuned for a pretty epic post!
Cheers,
Erin and Brian
Magnificent! Beautiful pictures and a fun to read narrative makes reading about your trip so interesting.