Feb. 21 – Nazca to Puquio
After breakfast in the hostel, we backed the bikes out of the hotel lobby, and got help from a friendly local finding the road to Cusco. We just randomly asked a man in his car where the road was, and he said, ¨follow me¨, and led us through the town to the round-about where the road began!
The very first curve in the road led us to a line of trucks stopped by a flagman for road construction. The truckers were out of their cabs, and sitting in the shade under their trailers…not a good sign! We were stopped there for about a half an hour. During this time, we chatted with some of the truckers, and one man picked a flower from a nearby tuna cactus for us to try. It had the texture and tasted kind of like a pomegranate fruit.
Ar first the road was not too bad, although it started out going straight up, at a ridiculously steep grade, with very tight turns and switchbacks. It kept that up for miles, while we could average maybe 30 miles and hour. Then we were plagued by lots of road construction and places where partial lanes were blocked with dirt or machinery or men working. Soon we were very high, 12,000+ ft, and the bikes were starting to run rough and not maintain high speed.
Then the road surface really deteriorated, and became as bad as some of the worst we had seen, with potholes and washouts and huge dips and ruts. Then the rain started, and got heavy, and it got crazy cold, below 45ºF. When we stop at one road construction point, we can see that some of the rain includes hail! We were wet and cold, our hands freezing, so we stopped at a lonely roadside restaurant for some soup and coffee. Then the trouble really started…
Just as we were ready to leave the restaurant and get back on the road, a crew of road workers comes into the restaurant, and tells us we have to drive back down the road, the way we came, for ‘a few minutes’, while they do some sort of road work near the restaurant. We do not really understand what they are telling us, and we argue and resist, but they insist that we go back about 1/4 mile, and behind a flagman barricade that is now set up there. We reluctantly agree, and drive back the way we came a bit, and stop behind the flagman, along with a truck or two already stopped there. We sit there, in the cold rain, for half an hour, and we get no answers from the workers present when we demand to know how long we will be held up. Suddenly, we see the work crew down the road all running for cover near the now closed restaurant, and a series of blasts go off just up the road. They are dynamiting rocks along the shoulder of the road! First a series of three blasts. Then a long pause, then two more. We wait in the freezing rain for another half hour, and nothing more is happening, and no one will tell us how much longer we have to wait. We see no construction equipment moving at all, and no more blasting. Both Levi and I are loosing patience, and I say ¨Let’s just go!¨.
We discuss this, and wait some more, but this situation is just not tolerable. We are freezing and soaking, and could be sitting here all day. So, we do it! We start our bikes, and roar past the frantically waving flag-person, and head down the road, past the restaurant and towards the blast site, determined not to stop for anything or anyone. Well, when we round the curve that blocked our view of the actual work area, we see that the road is completely covered in rock debris, just too completely for us to really ride through, and I have to come to a stop. The federal police officer that is with the road crew, comes running over to me, and threatens to take my license and write me a ticket if I do not turn back. I do not back down, and argue with him, saying that it would be possible for our bikes to get through. He says that they are not done blasting, and we must wait. He almost pleads with me, and assures me that it will not be much longer. Reluctantly, we turn around again, and go back, but only as far as the restaurant, which is open and where the balance of the road crew has been hiding. We go in, and order another coffee, much to the shock and amusement of the road crew.
Soon, the restaurant fills up with other stranded drivers and truckers. Our little protest has caused them to move the roadblock forward far enough for everyone to get to the restaurant. A great boon for the restaurant owner, who cannot dish the caldo out fast enough! We talk with a Brazilian tourist who used to live, in Gobles, Michigan, of all places! We hang out here another hour, while several more blasts go off around the curve.
Finally, the federal officer comes into the restuarant, looking as soaked and cold as we do, and tells us that we, Levi and I, can go, but no one else. We do not hesitata, but jump on the bikes and tear out of there. The road is still a mess, and we have to drive over lots of loose, broken rock debris, but we are greatful to be moving again. I am sure that if we had not challenged the roadblock, we would have been stuck there a lot longer!
The weather and road continue to be terrible. Rain is very heavy, it is very cold, and fog set in making visability almost zero. The road is nothing but potholes and washouts. The cold is so bad, that we are both shivering badly, and getting exhausted. We attempt to stop in a tiny town called Lucana, but there are no suitable facilities. We continue on to the town of Piquio, which is a mudhole, a true Peruvian Andean village, not on any tourist map. We arrive looking like two drowned rats. We locate the best hotel in town – no heat, no parking, but real hot water. We pay to park in a mudhole lot 5 blocks from the hotel. We discover that the rough road has broken one of the mounting bolts from Levi’s tail-case. This must be fixed before we can proceed.
It is a cold, wet night. We both shower to get rid of the shivers, and settle for easy local food. With no heat in the room, nothing dries overnight, but there are warm wool blankets on the beds!