23.4 mi / 7.0 mph / 790 ft. climbing
Home: Lei’s AirBNB

When plotting our visit to Machu Picchu online, I immediately knew that we’d like the “base camp” town of Ollantaytambo, but had no idea we’d end up spending two full weeks here (plus two days on our Machu Picchu out-and-back)! It was our longest stay in Peru since our initial month in Huaraz, but now it’s finally time to move on.

But first, one final bit of sightseeing in Ollantaytambo: a pre-departure visit to the main Inca ruins that we’ve been able to see every day over these weeks, from the front door of our AirBNB and during every walk to town. No, we didn’t just forget to make this easy excursion; it’s the one archeological site in Ollantaytambo that requires a ticket, and that ticket is the “Boleto Turistco” (S/130, ~US$36) that allows entry to 16 sites around Cusco and the Sacred Valley over a 10-day period, so we wanted to wait until the last minute (yesterday) to start the 10-day clock.

And it was worth the wait. While we had been living in an essentially-Inca city, only slightly-updated for its modern population, it turns out that there could have been a mirror image on the opposite side of the river, if only it hadn’t been declared an archeological site and emptied of any inhabitants. Because the site is similar in size, though grander in scope. The section high on the mountainside is the most “fortress”-feeling ruin we’ve visited, with massive stonework exceeding even what we saw at Machu Picchu in terms of scale and craft (though we admittedly didn’t visit the fanciest section of MP). And the ground-level areas added a diversity necessary for a functional community.

We returned to our AirBNB to collect our bikes, and were glad to see that we still remembered how to ride them. Though we only had a brief practice before we hit the rock-paved streets of the town, and then had to walk them out for half-a-mile. But it was certainly easier walking out (largely downhill) than it had been pushing them up against the tire-stopping rocks, and our lengthy stay made the in-and-out effort “worth it” in a way that would have felt much more annoying if we’d spent only one night between entering and leaving.

When we walked to the brewery (with Sirius!) a couple weeks ago, we’d discovered that the road on the far side of the river, though unpaved, would make for a much more-enjoyable ride back out than the main road on the north bank that we had taken into town. Mostly because the traffic was zero, but the surface was almost an improvement too since the asphalt of the main road wasn’t in good shape.

After four successful miles, we entered “uncharted territory”, and unfortunately the advantages of the gravel option decreased as we continued. For a while it felt like a reasonable access road for the railroad tracks we had joined up with, but once we crossed a not-exactly-legal railroad bridge, we were essentially granted only a rough path right next to the tracks, where walking the bikes over the large stones was frequently the only option. The route had shown a decent amount of “heat” on the cycling heat maps, but I belatedly realized that it was likely due to mountain bike tours offered by local companies (the red road had large white arrows painted on it, pointed in only one direction, which made no sense to me until today when I realized they’re likely markers for the people on the rented mountain bikes to follow). So it was slow going, but at least it was interesting!

As we got closer to the town of Urubamba (the main city of the Sacred Valley), we had the option to return to the main highway, but we stuck with our quieter gravel alternate that parallels the highway, because it seemed to be becoming more-consistently rideable again. It had also transported us to Santa Fe, New Mexico, where the high walls of the newly-appeared “compounds” on both sides left only a narrow channel for us to ride down. Tomorrow we will reach Pisac, a town known for its large expat community of hippies in search of a “native” vibe, and the glimpses I got here of the houses behind the walls gave me the impression that the people living in them are former Pisac-ians who grew old and rich enough that they decamped to the edge of Urubamba for privacy and isolation from the patchouli and pot-smoke. Like I said, Santa Fe! My impression of wealth was confirmed when the “road” became surrounded by the florally-gorgeous grounds of “Rio Sagrado – A Belmond Hotel”, which is the operation that also runs the exclusive hotel that’s within walking distance of Machu Picchu. Here, the rooms are “only” US$900/night.

Urubamba itself seemed to be a standard Peruvian small city, and one whose chaos Rett wanted to escape as quickly as possible after I picked up cash at the ATM and got her cooled down with a cold water and a shared ice cream sandwich. The day’s cloudier skies had been making me even more-appreciative of the clear bright sunlight we were blessed with yesterday when sightseeing at Maras and Moray, but as we continued on from Urubamba, I noticed that an explicit and unusual haze was additionally dulling the day’s vistas. Just as I began wondering “is that smoke?”, I heard a siren coming up from behind, and we were soon passed by the first fire truck we’ve seen Peru.

Is the smoke coming from a farmer burning their fields, like we saw yesterday? From many farmers burning their fields? From the fires in their fields getting out of control? At one point we curved around the toe of a mountain and I thought we might have left the smoke in the side valley behind us, but it turned out to be the opposite. We could soon see the smoke rising directly in lines on the mountainside above us, and could even see leaping orange flames when looking closer. But it was the sound that really drove home the seriousness: vaguely like a crackling campfire, but you shouldn’t be able to hear a campfire hundreds of feet above you and nearly a mile away.

We rode for a few miles with different sections of fire burning alongside us, and maybe for the first time wished that our AirBNB was further away than it actually was. It turned out that it was past where the fire was (currently!) burning, but just barely. More valuably, it was on the opposite side of the river, so even if the fire quickly swept down the mountain, hopefully the water would stop it from leaping to our side. Our host was certainly concerned, and confirmed that fires like this weren’t just “normal” here. But she wasn’t panicking, and mostly seemed bothered by the environmental destruction. Rett eventually got an emergency alert on her phone, essentially just saying to stay aware and listen to authorities. So we will watch and hope that the worst does not come to pass!