I thought we left the snow in Canada.

Jan 8 -Sicuani to Chivay

Breakfast in Sicuani has turned into a joke with mileage for me, we walked around a bit to find a place open at 7am. There were not many choices and Brenda figured we would give this local spot a try. The decore was rustic at best, the walls needed repainting and the concrete floor had seen better days. Our waitress was a typical Peruvian lady, short and stout wearing brightly colored clothing with long block hair braided and then attached together at the bottom to form a loop across her back. This is done to keep the hair back out of the way when stooped and/or working. She was polite and greeted us with rapid fire Castellano (a form of Spanish). I gave her a creased eyebrow look and she blurted out “Caldo” or soup. This meant that the menu for the morning was soup or soup, then she pointed at her mouth and nodded her head. I took this to mean did we want to eat, I replied with approval and also asked for coffee. The coffee soon arrived and then a little dish with hot sauce and lime wedges, it is very common to squeeze limes onto the food for flavor and to kill any germs. When the soup arrived Brenda was not very hungry anymore, I guess when the waitress pointed at her mouth she was asking what kind of meat did we want in our soup. What we got was a potato broth with rice, a whole medium sized potato with black water spot in the middle, 4 or 5 smaller potatoes that are common here but have a funny texture and unique taste, and half a sheep skull thrown in for good measure. The skull still had the teeth, half the tongue, and the skin down the nose, at least the eyes were removed. The soup was not to bad once a bunch of hot sauce and lime juice was added. We took the skulls with us to feed the first two stray dogs we seen, sometimes you lose at charades.

Soup anyone?

 Then it was time to pack up and head towards the Canyon del Calco, which is supposed to be deeper than the Grand Canyon, on the way out of town we passed through the repair shop area and I see a guy welding along the side of the road. It reminds me of work at first then it hits me that I could probably get Brenda’s licence plate fixed here somewhere. We circle back and find a fab shop that is run by a feisty lady who was a little hard to play charades with but I eventually got her to look at the license plate to see the cracks that had propagated about 2inches across the plate. Once she seen what I was referring to she started screaming the guys and within a few seconds there was a guy taking the plate off and another searching the yard for a piece of backing plate.

The feisty lady and her little helper.

I snooped around the shop and was a little jealous of the toys they had to work with, the guys had a full on machine shop to work in, so a square piece of plate with a few holes drilled in it was a piece of cake. The repair was put to the test later in the day when we ran out of pavement shortly after leaving the city and just past the picturesque lake in the valley.

This mountain pass would prove to be very unique, not only for its’ scenery but for the whole package of things it came with. There was only one gas stop along the way and while passing through we seen that it was market day, we decided to quickly check it out and maybe find a food vendor for a snack, the animal head soup had worn off. The market was not set up for parking close so we decided against the market and found a street vendor selling fruit. No sooner did we park than three little girls were standing beside us staring, with big smiles. We say hello and the tallest one immediately asks “how big is the bike?”. We get asked this a lot, but she does not seem to understand my Spanglish so I dip my finger in a puddle and write on the sidewalk. This starts a conversation between them followed by giggles that only little girls can make. We of course have to give them some Canada stickers and buy some fruit from their Mom.

We chat for a bit as she speaks English, then it is off down the road, or at least to the edge of town and the road block. The police have traffic stopped to allow for a wide load to make its way across the bridge, so our quick lunch stop just got lengthened by a half hour.

It was a good delay though because at first the people were yelling at the cop, once he got them calmed down he started talking with us. I thought this would help us convince him to let us go but it didn’t work. It was a good conversation all the same, and at one point all the men were circled around listening and adding when they could. Once the loads passed by the officer let us go and we sped off trying to make up some time, the road was pretty rough so we did our best to find the smooth track and keep our speed up. Around a few bends and over a few hills we found where the large loads had come from, there was an open pit mine tucked away in the foothills.

After that we gain elevation and seen less and less human intervention with the world with the exception of stone fences every now and again. The road is wet and this requires constant attention but we still have time for admiring the scenery. As the temperature is steadily dropping and the clouds becoming ominous so we stop to put on the rain gear, we are stopped for less than two minutes and 4 semis, 2 busses, and a couple of cars go by. One bus and semi meeting right where we were stopped, we had not seen a vehicle of any kind for an hour and now it is rush hour, then we don’t see any more for the next two hours. At the highest point of the pass there is snow on the road mixed in with the mud, nice and sloppy.

 

By the time we reach the only intersection along the route, left Arequipa right Chivay, we are a bit more than cold but decide the Colca canyon should be a good reward. We thought the first part was deserted, we were actually happy to see the checkpoint guard and then the road construction guys about an hour or so later. They were fixing the beside a bridge, so I assume the bridge had washed out at some point as it looked new. Brenda got hung up on a rock and asked me to ride her bike out of the mess, I obliged and once on the bridge deck promptly wiped out as the front tire lost traction quicker than I could get my feet down. A nice show for the construction guys indeed. This would be the first mud nap Brenda’s bike would take today, the second was a slow speed tip-over as well, caused by loss of momentum in deep mud.

By the time we got to Chivay the first thing we looked for was a car wash, for the bikes and ourselves.  Sometimes the easiest way to do laundry is when you are wearing it. We also figured that if we have to park in the lobby that the hotel owner would appreciate clean bikes.