05/12/2008

The final installment of Stephen Wilde's trip to Peru with Sacred Rides. Check out part three if you want the backstory.

Day 6.
Back in the saddle again. My new Giant doesn’t look new anymore. What’s the vertical total? I’ve lost track of the total. I’ve lost track of time. How can a fellow keep track of time when he’s riding on trials that were carved out thousands of years ago?! After a day of rest, we ride down into the sacred valley. The gang splits into two. Now that we’re in the Cusco region, we’re able to do two rides a day as the commutes and elevation drops are friendlier.

Although in Cusco we’re based at a much higher elevation and always deal with high altitude making a simple push up feel like the last steps to Everest. Wayo, Daniel (our video man), Meghan, Derek and I head down into the sacred valley while Jim, Budd, Theresa and Russo go to the salt mines. Heading into the sacred valley. Dropping down into the Inca’s most prized fertile farmland and the gates to Machu Picchu. Two sharp shoulders of mountain almost touching giving way to a deep valley we descend into. We hug the left shoulder on rock and stone polished smooth by people thousands of years past. My heartbeat quickened and not due to the exposure on the technical sections - knowing men and women dressed in brightly dyed clothing had etched out the trial gave me goose skin. I was privileged. We managed to do two rides and after finishing in the dark and being pretty much zombies… stacked into the white wonder at Uncle Ed’s hand…

Ripping down a creekside trail, only inches from the precipice.

It happened. The bus incident! Late. Narrow single lane dirty road. minutes from town. A stopped tour bus ahead. Uncle Ed stopped and immediately started backing up as well… it seemed the other bus was head on to an oncoming truck and the truck wasn’t about to back up. Uncle Ed did his best to keep up with the backing bus. No deal. In the impossible dark Uncle Ed was unable to keep from rolling off the side of the dirty road and had to hit the brakes… which is when the backing tour bus kept backing… straight into us.

Not hard. Hard enough to push in the front push bar on the white wonder, smash the driving lights and put a nice crease into the front hood. The entertaining part was that the backing bus driver was refusing to admit to any guilt. All of us dirty bikers got out of the white wonder to show our support. The police were called. The night carried on into the wee hours. Just another day in Peru.

Something tells me none of these guys are qualified claims adjusters.

Day 7.
Just when the rhythm was pumping. Pumping. What’s the worst thing a guy, or a girl, could ask for while in a fine country not your own? A small bus crash? No? A food born illness, perhaps? Poor Jim! Jim was at the mercy of the porcelain. Today was the Megavalanche as well. Jim trooped up with us, looking as green as the rolling hills.

The amazingly green and terraced farming landscape of Peru.

All started well. Jim holding it together for a few hundred meters. No good. Poor Jim. Luckily, the Megavalanche follows and cuts across a ribbon of blacktop from the Malaga pass at 4350 metres down to the village of Tanjca at 2850m in the sacred valley. Jim was able to coast down the highway holding tight to his lunch.

The trail wound down from high altitude cloud cover, snaking along the side of goat herder’s stone huts. Treeless Andes resembling the Swiss Alps. The trail was again not made for bikes but for goats and stinking strong mountain people. Handily, the evolution of the mountain bike made these trails a gem to ride. Finger burning downs with stops only to let a llama pass. Truly one of the wonders of the world of bicycle riding.

Riding in Peru means that you have to share the trails - with llamas.

At times, I would find myself concentrating strictly on picking lines through scattered boulders and rocks and feel shock to look up at an elderly grandmother toting her grandchild up what I wouldn’t want to hike, with the child slung over her back in a bright - Peruvian bright - sling, all while chasing a flock of sheep or leading some goats. Seconds later, I would be listening to my chain-slap to determine whether my chain was still running on the ring. Such contrast!

Hoodies are popular everywhere, and go with anything, even traditional Peruvian clothing.

The Megavalanche took its toll. Daniel, our video man, was in the lead when he mistakenly followed old trail markers off the blacktop down what he thought was the course. It wasn’t. The markers had been moved and he had launched into a torturous pit of jagged rock. He was lying doubled into the two-metre deep trench screaming like a stuck pig. Surely he must’ve had a busted femur. Russo, our ex-national multi-time, cross-country guide was on the scene in milliseconds and was able to reset a badly dislocated ankle. Mega took Jim. Mega took Daniel.

This is NOT the kind of place where you want to mess yourself up seriously.

We wound down. Down and down. The course raw and loose. I happened to be following Theresa down a tricky piece of terrain. Her on her Session 10 picking nice lines. I held back to give her room and then the sharp cry of distress. She’d lost her balance and fallen into what seemed a Jesus crown of thorns. But it wasn’t the thorns that had her. Rock. She’d nailed the only place on her body that wasn’t covered in armor. Hip. Mike, Derek, and Wayo all administered a full first-aid session on her and she rode off down the blacktop. Mega took Theresa too.

The entire crew made it down to base village. We regrouped, took our sick and injured to triage, and headed back up for round two. Uncle Ed, our new driver, got us to the top and we set off. The second run was fast and seamless. No wrecks or yard sales. I was trying to imagine shooting the course with a few hundred others on a mass start at race pace.

Day 8.
With a limping squad, we took off from our swank quarters, the Munay Tika, straight up to Lares Pass at 4350 metres. I had gotten used to the altitude – or was it the quantities of coca tea? Either way, I was keen to start riding one of our last big rides in the land of the polished stone steps. It was hard to believe it really could be one of the last. I was flying numbers around in my brain trying to work out how I could swing staying longer. No deal. Taking pictures in other parts of the world would not wait. I vowed to make a return trip.

Uncle Ed made a smooth transition from low to high altitude passing numerous friendly llamas on the way. The top was cold. It felt like a snowstorm was on the horizon. We were in the saddle of the pass and made quick time getting down onto the trail. The Lares trail is a popular trail with the Cusco locals and this was the only time on our entire trip we crossed paths with other riders. It seemed strange. We felt greedy. Wanting to know what they could possibly be doing on our trail. That’s the way it is in Peru. Few riders. Big terrain!

Derek T railing a loose, rocky corner on the trail in Peru.

Once again… our trail passed by goat and llama herders, their animals and their huts. It was starting to feel normal to stop for a brightly clad youngster with bare feet and some sheep – almost as normal as stopping for a nice hiker on a local trail back home.

The broad valley narrowed down to a skinny gap only 10 – 20 metres wide that had been cut by eons of water and erosion. We followed the winding bolder-strewn path that ran along side a swift moving creek. It seemed fine to be riding alongside the fast water… after cutting our teeth on the exposure of the first few days riding… what was some fast water?

Success was had by all… sorry... not quite all. It seemed Jim was still at the mercy of the stomach gods and had to sit out the ride.

We had packed our goods and were heading back to the city of Cusco and our last day of Peruvian soil.

Day 9.
A jumpy trail.
Our last day was a little jumpy trail. The Cusco locals had been building some jumps and even some a stunt or two. After a short 20 minute shuttle up we unloaded our machines and headed down. Threading our way down trails that were cut between farmer’s fields. Little kickers were built up along the way with the highlight being a ramp that had been built to jump across a little ravine. Derek and Wayo sessioned it and had it dialed. Smooth.

Derek throwing down and catching air in the Southern Hemisphere.

We were able to do the trail twice and for our third and final ride of the trip, Derek, Meghan, Wayo, Russo and I headed up and did the trial we had done on our first day in Cusco – a 45 minute fast run down that ended with the sections of the Red Bull race.

In an attempt to make our last day in Peru another adventure… Uncle Ed had the misfortune of snagging a power line with the bikes on top of the van. Poor evening light! The van lit up inside. Not from the downed power, but from our yells for him to stop! The white wonder stood still. We looked up at the post in the ground that held sketchy wire. It wobbled. Started to fall. Right towards the white wonder. More yells. Uncle Ed slammed the machine in reverse and the power pole toppled down a foot from the front window! Luckily, the power lines were secondary lines sort of resembling really long extension cords strung up on an old trimmed tree and not even a one was electrocuted.

Uncle Ed, having a Peruvian cola before wreaking havoc on the roads.

The villagers all agreed on a small price for a new pole and we paid. The villagers agreed on which one of the farmers would cut down one of his trees to replace the pole. Within minutes, we were bombing down singletrack, racing a sunset and pushing lactic acid out of our minds. It was possibly one of the best rides I had ridden in Peru. Fast. Flowing. Flowing past Inca ruins. Past women in traditional dress toting their baby alpacas coming from a day posing for pictures. Finishing up with quick lines through Cusco, America’s oldest city. Ahh Peru.

Go there.

the end.

by stephen wilde.

Photographer and writer Stephen Wilde has just returned from 10 day trip with Sacred Rides.  This is the fourth blog from his trip.  Click these links to check out blog one, two, and three.

For more info on this and other trips check out SacredRides.com. Editor Stuart Kernaghan will be heading out on an epic XC trip with Sacred Rides in a few weeks, and will be sharing his own experiences in August.

Would you like to ride in Peru?  Talk about it here.