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05/12/2008
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Peru Part
Three
Who needs Kryptonite?
Words and photos (unless noted) Stephen
Wilde
Join him on his adventure with Sacred
Rides
Click all images to enlarge |
Day 3.
Christmas. It was Christmas in the room I was sharing with Jim! Sweet bag of luggage
filled with Giro, Sombrio and Fox treats. Jim and I tore into our bike boxes and
had our bikes built slick in no time. We were grinning big.
Meghan Illinsworth blending in with the locals in San Pedro de Casta, Peru
Third day of acclimatization. I was beginning to think seriously about all the
acclimatization. What exactly was in store? We crawled out of Lima. I had no idea
Lima was a city of 7.8 million. It’s hard to tell. The traffic didn’t
seem horrendous. Of course the city did stretch on pretty much forever.
Stephen Wilde takes his portrait with a local
San Pedro de Casta was our destination. The town where our guide Wayo is so popular
(Wayo was the national dh champ from ’99 – 01 and masters champ from
02 - 05) that the villagers name their children after him. Once again the maroon
machine hauled us up yet another death-defying single lane of dirty road carved
into the side of what seemed like an 80-degree mountainside. We pulled into San
Pedro de Casta at an elevation of 3150 meters (10334 ft.). The air was thin. I
looked in awe as a grandmother hauled her grandson on her back past us while leading
her goats. The folk are super strong. I felt silly getting a horse ride up another
850 meters to Marcahuasi, the stone forest plateau and the start of our 3-hour
descent. Silly yet thankful.
Beginning a descent from the Marcahuasi Stone Forest.
Mike had finished delivering his bikes (bikeswithoutborders.com)
to the villagers. Excitement was in the air! New bikes for the locals. A horseback
ride for us as well as the much-hyped stone forest where UFOs, Shamans and Curanderos
come together in the eyes of the wind and water carved formations. One could bet
a salary the formations had to be hand carved. We switched from four-legged steeds
to two wheelers. I put on my recently recovered riding gear - I was cheering loud.
I had just had two days and 6800 meters (22310 ft) of downhill in my shorts, t-shirt,
and tennis shoes. I felt strange and overdressed in real riding gear.
On to Cusco.
We headed down. 3000 meters down. More switchbacks. Stone steps worn smooth by
hundreds of years of smooth-soled feet passing from village to village. Aside
from an ongoing plague of flats by the crew and some deadly vertigo we all made
it, with breaking fingers numb, to the village of Huinco and some freshly made
street vendor french fries.
Survival of day 3. No more acclimatization. We were ready. Cusco bound. Megavalanche
bound. Who needs kryptonite?
Cusco - the oldest city in the Americas.
Day 4.
Sleep for 2 hours after packing up the bikes again. Wake at 3:45am to make an
8am flight to Cusco, America’s oldest city. Cusco is the jumping off point
for Machu Picchu trips, and home to last fall’s Red Bull Cusco urban downhill.
Arrive 9:30am for breakfast. So tired. Worried about riding as now we’re
acclimatized and the real riding would start. Fatigue, altitude, sore muscles,
unknown singletrack… ok maybe I could use a touch of Kryptonite.
And then down once again - from serious altitude.
We stay at hostel Lareto that still has part of an Inca wall in our room.
It’s in the main square. Our posse overrun the place with stench and bike
parts. The locals are kind to us. Even on the trail where we careened around
corners to goat herders tending goats, we were treated to smiles and waves.
Peruvians, in my tiny pie-slice of experience, are amazing folk.
And then down once again - from serious altitude.
Cusco is at an altitude of 3350 meters so we all have a touch of the thin
air sickness. Mike kept telling us coca leaves were the answer to getting more
oxygen into the system. I filled my cheek with the leaves but my breathing was
still laborious. Maybe I was immune to the innocent dried leaves that would
put a Canadian found transporting them into federal.
And then down once again - from serious altitude.
Afternoon. Sleep deprived and oxygen starved, we pack our two wheelers. Uncle
Ed, our new bus driver of the White Wonder takes us above Cusco to the village
of Salkantay at 4100 meters. The challenging exposure of the Lima trails was
not here but was replaced with elevation and sleep deprivation. Our trail meandered
constantly down through pastures and past goats. Fast and flowing. Down little
alleys between villager’s houses. Past mothers milking cows and finally
breaking out just above Cusco where we followed some of the same lines from
the Red Bull downhill. Steep 3000 year-old steps at twilight without race officials
to blast warnings to locals. Emerge at the square. Straight into our hotel.
Literally into the hotel. Success. Arms and head buzzed. Collapse. Done.
And then down once again - from serious altitude.
Day 5.
We pack our goods and head to Ollantaytambo - one stop away from Machu Picchu.
Day 5 is a rest day for us although we still get up at the crack of dawn to
make the train to Machu Picchu. The crew tramp all around the site. No riding
bikes. We hear many stories from our guides detailing which sections of the
Inca trail Hans Rey had ridden. Apparently he’s the only mountain biker
to have actually ridden parts of the official Inca trail. We ride the train
and are tourists amongst hundreds of other tourists. I would write more about
Machu Picchu, but words don’t do it justice – it’s way nicer
than the postcard.
Words do not do Machu Pichu justice. Photo ~ Meghan Illingworth
Guides
Wayo Stein, Mike Brcic, Russo Corrovabias (past national champion of cross-country
– Quechua
descendent).
Stephen Wilde
Photographer and writer Stephen Wilde has just returned from 10 day trip with
Sacred Rides. This is the third blog from his trip. Click these
links to check out Blog one
and two.
For more info on this and other trips check out sacredrides.com
Would you like to ride in Peru? Pipe
up here.
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