Cuzco to Puno: onto the Altiplano

We rolled into Puno yesterday...tired, hungry, wind-blasted, and sunburnt. It was a rather rigorous 6 days of riding. From Cuzco, which is in Peru’s central highlands, the route climbs up and over Abra La Raya, the 4338-m pass marking the beginning of South America’s Altiplano. The Altiplano (literally “high plain”), hovering around 3800 m, is the second highest and most expansive high-elevation plateau in the world – the highest and biggest being the Tibetan Plateau.

The initial ride out of Cuzco, and staying in the small towns of the central highlands, was great exposure to the indigenous elements of central Peru. The women especially seem to be outdoing themselves in the fashion department. Quechua women’s dress is a fusion of Inca, pre-Inca, and Spanish-colonial traditions. Technically, each region or village has a unique style, but more and more women are simply wearing other traditional clothing that they fancy, regardless if it pertains to their region. The hats are especially wild and crazy. Sitting drinking a coffee in the market brings on a whole new meaning to “people-watching”...hours of entertainment. The challenge though is taking pictures without getting a slap in the forehead (they really don’t like having their picture taken).

The 1300-m (vertical) approach to the pass climbs gradually, making it not-so-bad from an elevation-gain perspective. The real kicker though is the oxygen depravation. I was definitely sucking air and couldn’t get to the top soon enough. Fortunately for me I carry the camera, and could therefore use the “taking pictures” excuse for stopping every 5 minutes. Sherpa Amy on the other hand, appears to have the altitude gene and charged the pass like a Llama in disguise. No issues there.

To break up the climb we decided to (more like “had to”) take advantage of a funky aguas calientes (hot springs) in a place called Occobamba. It’s a local community-run operation, not intended for gringo tourists, and consequently is a bit rough around the edges. But hey, hot steamy water in the middle of the Andes, and a bed for the night (7 bucks)...couldn’t pass that up. Once all the Peruvians left at the end of the day, including a rambunctious high-school soccer (or should we say futbol) team who did not understand the “no splashing” rule of hot springs, we had the pools to ourselves and watched the stars come out over the mountains. Not a bad way to spend an evening.

Next morning we awoke to crisp mountain air and fresh snow in the mountains. Yikes! But morning sun and lifting clouds made for stunning views up to the pass. The pace was slow, so we had lots of time to enjoy! At the pass, looming black clouds turned to a cold rain so we layered up and cruised down, officially celebrating our arrival onto the Altiplano.

While stunningly beautiful, and surrounded by the immensity of it all (this is big-sky country!), the key part of Altiplano is plano, or plain. That is, flat straight terrain that goes off into infinity. Combined with a seemingly constant headwind, looming storms in every direction, and fierce UV rays (the sun’s UV rays are more intense with increased elevation), riding isn’t the picnic it should be. Amy’s 3 tubes of Burt’s Bees lip balm may not be enough!

Of looming storms, it seems that the daily pattern is one of nice sunny mornings followed by unpredictable mixed-bag afternoons.  We learned the hard way how a nice sunny morning can quickly devolve into an explosion of nature’s fury. Being on a bicycle in the middle of a treeless expanse, limits one’s options in a storm (thank god for gortex). On the one storm day we survived, as dark clouds turned to gail-force wind which turned to driving rain, we both instinctively came to a stop beside the only structure higher than the grass as far as we could see in every direction: a guard post beside a gate entrance to some kind of facility in the distance.  Not initially sure how that would help, we wasted no time when the gate attendant gave us the “come on over and get inside” signal. The hail was doing its best to destroy our panniers as we wheeled into the tiny hut. Any port in a storm as they say. After an hour or so, and reaching the limit of our broken Spanish skills, we left our little security bubble and rode out the rest of the day in a cold rain (down jackets covered by gortex just did the job). Lesson learned: start early, end early, watch the storms roll in from a hotel window.

So Puno: elevation 3830 m, population 120,000. Its claim-to-fame is being on the shores of the infamous Lake Titicaca – the highest navigable body of water in the world. We can’t say much about it at this point since as of yesterday’s arrival we have yet to venture more than 100 m from our hostel. Resting and recuperating is the only goal at this point and enjoying the complimentary breakfasts and all-day coffee and tea (and of course coca tea...careful!). The main attraction here is venturing out onto the lake to visit the numerous islands and the unique indigenous tribes that live on them. So that’s our plan...eventually. First we’ll try to replenish our liquids and mend our blistered lips. More on Puno and the islands of Lake Titicaca soon. Hasta luego.