36.5 mi / 11.3 mph / 1311 ft. climbing
Home: Laura’s AirBNB

The violent storm ended at 8:30 last night, and perfect calm reigned after that. So calm that we woke to the inside of the tent being soaked, and a dense blanket of fog deadening the outside world. Before I could even get out to get started on breakfast, rain returned with exquisitely bad timing, and now its light percussion caused dripping inside, by breaking loose the condensation that had been sticking peacefully to the rainfly.

I emerged to cook breakfast when the pattering stopped, and found that the fog had cleared from our vicinity, but there were still plenty of clouds hanging below us in the valley. And, our guard dog was still there, still being a good boy. While eating, the fog closed in again, but thankfully rain never returned (and the fog provided good cover when we each descended the hillside a bit to do our morning pooping!)

In the 17 hours that we spent next to, and in partial view of, the highway, not a single curiosity-seeker (or simply someone who needed to relieve themselves) turned into our oxbow, so it ended up being a pretty good campsite after all. And far easier to return to the highway from than if the remote gravel pit site had still been accessible. As we continued uphill, we didn’t see any obviously better (our even equal) spots, so we made the right choice to stop where we did.

We had about 8 miles across which to climb the final 1000 feet of our 3-day climb from 6,400 to 14,000 ft., so a relatively-easy grade. And then, a 25-mile downhill! We wouldn’t drop below 9,200 ft. before turning up again for the final stretch into Andahuaylas, so that translates into a easy-riding 3.5% grade.

So like the descent to Chumbes a couple days ago, we didn’t need to strangle our brakes, and could fly down the smooth, lightly-trafficked pavement. But it was a much more open valley, so not nearly the visual wonder (though the cloudy skies surely didn’t help).

And the high speeds made it a challenge to stay warm. It was 58°F at the top of the pass, but somehow dropped 10 degrees by the time we got 1000 feet lower!? The self-induced 20mph wind at that temperature meant that even with her full-fingered gloves, wind-blocking rain jacket, and facemask, Rett was so unhappily chilled that she was actually looking for a restaurant serving caldo (hot soup) for lunch. Ironically, we never found one, when it’s frequently all we can find (but don’t want) when searching for breakfast.

The string of civilization around Nueva Esperanza didn’t feel like a great place to stop anyway. The construction worker who broke away from his orange-jumpsuited group to sprint next to Rett while they all laughed was probably just having fun, but did he have to run so close to her? And suddenly-aggressive drivers can appear anywhere, but the fact that drivers chilled out again further down the hill suggested a local influence.

So we continued down until Andahuaylas was in view far below, and assembled our own PB&J sandwiches as planned. Even though it was now sunny and comfortable, it took most of lunch before the chill dissipated from Rett’s bones.

Our AirBNB was better than expected, largely because it turned out to be on the first floor, and our host’s dad was very friendly and dad-like in the way that he showed us as all the features of the place. The narrow-alley access meant that sunlight wasn’t a thing though, so it was the first “cold” place (mostly high 50s) we’ve had to adjust to in a few weeks.

Unlike Ayacucho, we had no tourist plans during our three nights in Andahuaylas, and our walk for groceries did nothing to change our mind. Most Peruvian cities seem to have some semblance of “districts”, blocks where the same types of businesses congregate, but Andahuaylas showed the most segregation yet. “I guess we’re in the cell phone district!” “Now it’s the bakery district!” (literally six near-identical bakeries in a row.) Our AirBNB was in the not-very-exciting bulk-grain district.

Days 2-6

We had booked three nights, but then Rett suffered her second intestinal attack in less than two weeks. No vomiting this time, just incapacitating diarrhea to go along with the stomach pain and body aches. Again there was about an 18 hour acute period, followed by a couple days of recovery. Rett believed it was a relapse of her initial infection, but given how strongly she had attacked the 5-day ride from Ayacucho, my interpretation was that it was just the bad luck of catching a second one of the 20-some other bacteria/viruses/protozoans that cause similar symptoms.

Either way, it was definitely better to have it strike when we were already relaxing in a comfortable place (with plenty of soap and water!), rather than while on the bike miles from the nearest town. I again had a couple bouts of things being not-quite-right, though I had that during our 5-day ride too, and far less debilitating than Rett’s symptoms. It at least gave us a rare opportunity to watch some movies together (“The Life of Chuck” and “The Man in the Moon”). We initially extended for two more days, and then added a third when our preparations to depart revealed that Rett was still not ready (especially for a night of wild camping, our only option). As usual (but something we will never become used to!), our AirBNB host was incredibly understanding and flexible, blocking off dates and nearly arguing with us to give us a night for free!