34.7 mi / 10.7 mph / 1400 ft. climbing
Home: Hotel Milton
Our wild campsite was near-perfect: easily accessible, yet with essentially zero chance of anyone else visiting our overnight home. So it was a bit of a surprise on our ride back down to the highway (we had walked on the way up), a light work truck was parked about 2/3rds of the way down. It was presumably part of the potato-digging operation which covers the hillsides all around us, so the fact that our site felt isolated and hidden despite being surrounded by people working in the fields made it even more amazing.




We had only 500 feet remaining on the 4200-foot climb out of Andahuaylas that we began yesterday. Once we reached the top, views opened to the deep valley on the other side, but unusually, we would not be descending into it. Instead, we would circle high above the branches of this unnamed canyon, tracing a convoluted counterclockwise loop around it that started at 9 o’clock and ended at 1 o’clock, dropping us only 1,750 feet over 20 miles. From that 1 o’clock position, we could look back up to the 9 o’clock position where we had started, because it was just 3.6 miles across the chasm.








At the 13,600 ft. high point of our ride, the village of Quillabamba was just three miles away, but 5,000 feet (nearly a mile) below. That’s approximately the depth of the Colorado River from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, but there the rim-to-river distance is more than twice as far as it is here! So essentially we spent most of the day circling a twice-as-steep version of the Grand Canyon. And since this is Peru, it means that there are towns on both the rim and at the base of this canyon! With various roads snaking up those steep walls to connect the two extremes!


Once we curled out of that canyon’s domain, we were quickly into another, and in this one the highway does descend to reach the town of Huancarama near the bottom. Ideally it would have maintained its aloofness, because we would just have to climb back out of this canyon tomorrow, but of course this is not only “normal” for Peru, it has surprisingly become normal for us.



Hotel reviews in Huancarama weren’t great, partly because they (and perhaps the whole town) had reports of intermittent water. So it was a surprise to see how big the town appeared from high above, and as the highway made its winding descent, it was lined with more modern, attractive, and expensive anti-erosion infrastructure than we’ve seen just about anywhere in Peru. Along with the nice giant-Jesus-statue park looking down on the town, this all gave an impression of wealth and development far greater than the poor, primitive town I had been expecting.



While the water worked fine at Hotel Milton, and it had the most professionally-wired “suicide shower” we’ve used in Peru (along with a shower curtain!), it also lacked a toilet seat, and cost only S/40 (the same ~US$12 as our roadside lunch!) So internally the town is perhaps not quite as advanced as its first impression.



We went out to do our usual shopping trip, walking the length of the main street and visiting several stores to acquire everything we needed. In actual ground-level size, Huancarama turns out to be just big enough to cross the threshold of towns that can support a central market (“mercado”), but it was one of the smallest we’ve seen, with only a handful of vendors. And while everyone in town was friendly (one shopkeeper even asked our names, a first!), they all clearly noticed the gringos who walked back and forth down the main street three times.
Some of that walking was trying to find a place for dinner, but none of the places with open portals seemed to be actively serving food, so we were at a bit of a quandary until Rett decided that we could get some street-vendor fast-food. Originally we thought we were just going to get salchipapas (french fries with hot dog pieces) since that’s how the cart was labeled, but we saw the person in front of us getting some sort of chicken thing, so we asked for the same. We sat on stools for five minutes while watching our chef cook and assemble our meals with surprising virtuosity, her hands moving with the speed and precision that comes from thousands of repetitions, extending for ingredients in every direction but never beyond arms-reach, and adjusting based on our responses to her perceptive “these people barely speak Spanish” questions. We ended up with super-tasty fried chicken filets atop a mix of buttered pasta, rice, and french fries, with sauces, and even hot tea, delivered in plastic bags, all of which we could take back to our room to enjoy. Faster, cheaper, and probably better than any restaurant we would have gone to!


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