.....and the next morning the dirt road again down, down, down to the same river we spend the night at the hot springs (baños) a few days earlier. It got hot and dry - desert like and the canyon we rode through for hours on dirt roads was something I have never seen in my life. High walls of dry rock leading up from both side - nothing green, seemingly nothing alive. Riding like this for hours - it was so stunning I couldn't even feel how tired I was.
All four of us felt like we had been on the go for too many days in a row. We needed a day off- the next village of Chuquicara sounded good.....right at the junction where the canyon road meets the one from the coast and then leading up into the mountains and the National Park Huascarán.
But the village was a pit hole and so was the one we rode through just a couple of hours before at the end of the canyon. Very poor, dirty - people trying to make a living digging in mines and fixing trucks.....though a lot of them seem unhappy there were always one or two friendly face greeting us.
Chuquicara was our destination for the night - we found a school to rest up, but we packed up the next morning and tackled the dirt road along the next river back into the mountains with more unusual beauty.
The road leading gently up along the river to the village of Yuramarca - all dirt, but doable - meaning no pushing at all though we never saw any pavement. All of us pretty darn tired and worn, but somehow we pulled ourselves together....shared our food and found time to joke and laugh enough to keep going without making it a total drag. The unusual beauty around us made me wanna pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming...but even then I wasn't sure.
Yuramarca - already further up the mountains was nice and friendly and much more welcoming then we had experienced in the lower elevations. I am starting to believe that the lower (located) towns and villages are not as pleasant in terms of people surroundings as anything else over at least 1000m ....I find that strange, but true! But how can that be and why?....gotta think about that a little more...
Ok, so, slept good, ate good....we had camped in a big room all together and washed up enough to feel ok, but the next day all our asses were dragging...it wasn't that far to go to Caraz now, but the bumpy roads and therefor the slow going started to really effect us on more than the physical level. All four of us were pretty quiet for long stretches. We hit the little village of Huallanca right before the cañon del Pato (Canyon of the duck) and found some yummy cookies - thinking of staying and calling it a day. The upcoming canyon is famous for its 35 tunnels - are we going to be up for it?
Coke and cookies and we took off- come on, Caraz is calling.....
The road was rough and now traffic and tunnels made the riding even tougher. Sorry to say I couldn't enjoy the whole Duck Canyon experience in it's full glory, I was too damn pooped! Caraz, Caraz, Caraz was all I could think of - my brain had become dusty, my legs motion was automatic and the rest of me didn't like cycling anymore -not one little bit.
