Deane's Motorcycle Trip In SOUTH AMERICA
|
Deane's Motorcycle Trip In SOUTH AMERICA |
|
|
April 24, 25 - Chivay, Peru Cuzco to Chivay, 271 miles |
|
April 24 The first day of this ride was the most difficult ride I have ever taken in over 25 years of motorcycling!!! In starting from Cuzco, we had 90 miles of nice, scenic, well-maintained paved road, and that was very enjoyable. However, within the next 115 miles the majority of the ride was pure Hell!! This "Road from Hell" was far worse than the previous one I called the road from Hell. We started with very significant road construction, which wasn't too bad for the motorcycles, and we got through there with little trouble. Then as we rode on our assigned route, we stopped at an intermediate town, and found that one of our riders had a flat tire. This was the fourth flat tire for him on this journey! While he was getting the tire fixed, we all waited, and had a crowd of at least a hundred local Peruvians admiring the bikes, and asking all kinds of questions. The questions taxed my Spanish, but it was fun. During this time some of the riders were anxious to go on, and I joined three of them, one with his girl friend as a passenger. We got a local motorcycle rider to show us the way out of town, to the "highway" leading out of town. Wouldn't you think that a local rider would show us the easiest route through town? This guy took us down back alleys, through the biggest mud puddle in town, over a concrete wall with just a tire-width ramp of dirt to get over the wall, and to a street that was blocked off by poles just before the "highway"! From there, we rode dirt roads with no signs at all, to a village where we were to take a fork in the road. Our lead rider took the wrong fork, and that's where the "Road from Hell" started. We rode over loose gravel, dust, and huge potholes. Coming to the first water crossing, about 15 yards wide, the first bike made it OK, the second and third bikes barely made it, and I dropped my V-Strom two thirds of the way across. We stood it up in mid-stream, I started it up and we went on our way, with a boot half-full of water for me. I don't know how many more water crossings, big and small, and huge mud puddles we rode through, but it was at least 40-50. All of our boots were sloshing by midway. Add to this the huge muddy ruts made by big busses and big trucks, and the challenge just to stay up was exhausting. We couldn't believe that buses could make it through this kind of "road", but they were equipped with very large diameter tires, high clearance, and dual wheels on the back. In a country with few cars, most people ride busses, and we would find them picking up passengers in the middle of nowhere. Speaking about the middle of nowhere, we came upon a big truck whose engine had quit, and two buses which couldn't get around on the single-track road. On the motos we did get around, but one of our riders had to stop to make repairs to his moto. We drew a crowd of all of the bus passengers, to see the motos and offer suggestions.
Interspersed with the water crossings, were long strings of the muddy ruts. The problem with these ruts was that they were very deep, maybe 12-14" deep, filled with water, mud, and slick rocks on the bottom, and they lasted for maybe 10-20 yards. Being the width of the dual wheels of the busses and trucks, they were just wide enough for our feet on the motorcycle foot pegs. A slight miscalculation of bike tracking in the rut brought a slow-speed tip-over of the bike. I did a few of these. For each of these, I had to restart the bike, sitting in the deep muddy rut, and try to get to dry land. If that weren't enough, we had to make our way around or over huge rocks. One of our riders lost the "bash plate" on the underside of his engine, and never did find it. I had a couple bangs on the frame of my bike that I thought might break it. With all of these difficulties, we got separated into two 2-bike groups, trying to get to the next hotel before dark. No one wanted to be out there in the dark, with no road signs, terrible roads, and oncoming low temperatures in the night at high elevation. One group turned in the right direction after the "Road from Hell", but wound up getting to the hotel after the tour group leader had called the national police to put out a search message. I and my riding buddy, Terry, made another wrong turn and wound up in a little town as darkness neared. We decided to stay in the only hotel in town, a "Municipal Hostel", and phoned the others to let them know. This hostel turned out to be all right, in spite of the fact that they had no shower, only cold water, no towels, no soap, and no toilet paper. It cost 15 Peruvian "Soles" (about $5 US for the two of us). Finding a small restaurant, we were asked if we wanted "Sena" (supper), and since there were no menus, we said yes. The sena consisted of a large bowl of very good noodle and chicken soup, bread, chicken and gravy, with rice and mashed potatoes, cooked vegetables, and Coca Tea - all for seven "Soles" for the two of us; about $1.50 US each!! All part of the adventure. April 25 Terry and I closed the remaining miles, about 65, to get to the town where the others were, and it wasn't so bad that day, even with very poor roads. We'd seen lots of sheep, Llamas, and/or Alpacas, and at one place we had to wait for a herd of Alpacas and a flock of sheep to cross the road, with their native herders, before we could ride on.
When we were very close to arrival, I had an accident on loose gravel. The road was quite narrow, not enough for two lanes, and so the normal thing is to have a right track, left track, and middle track. Each vehicle gets to use the middle track, along with their own side track, until they meet another vehicle. Then each one is to give way at the center. Well, an SUV was coming toward me, using his side track and more than the middle track. The road had very deep, loose gravel, and to get out of one track for a motorcycle meant crossing a deep set of loose gravel. The oncoming car wouldn't move over to give me some of the middle track, and I could see that he was going to hold his position. For me, it was either hit him head on, or try to get through the deep loose gravel to my right side. I tried to go through the loose gravel, but lost control of the bike and crashed. When I took my helmet off, blood was gushing out. The people in the SUV had at least stopped and helped me, with some water to wash off and paper towels to soak up the blood. And my riding buddy Terry came back. I didn't know it at the time, but we decided later that the inside of the helmet had a sharp plastic protrusion that apparently slashed my cheek just below the cheek bone. The outside of the helmet did its job, and I didn't get hurt anywhere else, but that cut had to be repaired. I rode about 15 minutes to the town and hotel where the others were, and the tour leaders took over immediately and got me to a small hospital in the town. A Peruvian woman doctor stitched me up, about an inch and a quarter or so, and gave me prescriptions for antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medicines. I'm doing quite well, and am continuing with the tour, BUT I'm ready for paved roads!! |
||
