I’m shivering in my sleeping bag as I write this as we ended our day staying in a very rustic roadside hospedaje (lodging). This village is at 13,434 ft (4100 meters) and it is pouring down icy rain. 

We started the day with a perfect, crisp, sunny morning. After loading the bikes we walked down into the market and had some breakfast. We sat on two plastic stools under a low tarp while a middle aged women served us a plate of rice, boiled potatoes and a leg of chicken. She also poured us a glass of quinoa juice which has a hearty flavor but a slimy texture. We paid seven Peruvian Sol which is about $1.90USD. 

We had to backtrack about three miles to reach Highway 107 which would take us through the Huascarán National Park. We would ride along side Nevado Huascarán Sur, the highest peak in Peru (22,205ft / 6,768m) and through the Punta Olimpica Tunnel, nearly a mile long and the highest tunnel in the world (15,535ft / 4735m). Highway 107 is a proper paved road with two lanes which felt really nice after the last two days of potholes and slop. It still has perilous drop-offs and about 50 or more hairpin switchbacks. 

The ride was SPECTACULAR and a little scary in places. Every turn revealed a new unforgettable view including several alpine lakes. The canyon walls were indescribably vertical on both sides of us. When we reached the tunnel we were plunged into total darkness. It was like a rain storm inside with heavy droplets of water cascading down from the ceiling. Even my high powered off-road lights seemed to be absorbed by the inky blackness. The tunnel went on for a long way and then… we popped out into a totally different view of the range. We stopped for a few minutes to take some photos but we were both feeling the effects of the altitude and we had a whole lot of hair-raising road to descend. Slow and steady. Don’t forget to breath. Watch out for oncoming vehicles. 

What a delightful ride! 

As we descended back into the valley we rolled through several smalls villages. Dogs jumped out to chase us and donkeys lazily munched grass as we passed by. At one point we had to pass though a herd of sheep that were clustered on the road and holding up traffic in both directions. There were hundreds of them . We revved the bikes and it was like parting the sea. Little white sheep butts scattering before us. 

After lunch, we turned south though the small city of Huaraz. At this point the road started to climb again and the weather started to turn ominous. Rain drops bounded off my visor and the temperature noticeably dropped. Soon the road was enveloped in a thick fog and it was raining for real. We pulled into the village of Conococha, where we are now, and decide that we should get out of the elements. Conococha barely qualifies as a town. It’s more of a crossroad stop with a petrol station and a few restaurants. We could only find one hospedaje and it was pretty minimal. With its plastic tarp ceiling and thin plywood walls, it reminded me of some remote tea houses I’d stayed in while trekking in the Himalayas. Aaron and I had a cup of hot chocolate while we discussed our options but the longer we sat the harder the rain came down. We only had about and hour and a half of daylight left anyway so we decided this was our best option. The end of another epic day.