August 11-21: Sucre to Uyuni, Bolivia

The time I spent in Sucre held some of the best days of my trip thus far.  Loic and I quickly made friends with all the great people staying at our guesthouse – James and Rebecca from the U.K., Gael, Nicolas, and Juliana from France, Christa from Germany, and Grace from New York/San Fran, plus a few others, but our group of 6-8 were glued together.  I saw very little of Sucre in the end, aside from a restaurant one night and the market for shopping or juice runs.  The night of the Barbeque saw us up at 4am, still going hard and Sunday afternoon saw us rock climbing up above the city.  Monday was still the weekend for us, and Tuesday James and I finally decided to go easy and just watch a movie.  Life of Pi, highly recommended.  Gael cooked incredible crepes, vegetarian lasagna, etc and it was all-in-all a grand old time.  Hours of hanging out in the courtyard and I managed to expand my collection of movies to 50 in addition to a few TV seasons…  But best of all, I got new music!!!  You can always count on a Brit with a computer to have the best music around, so from Rebecca and James came tons of great artists.  Most of the people here are studying at the nearby spanish school and I was very close to staying here for next few weeks to volunteer and study, but have decided to push on.

Leaving this great family behind was sad, and I certainly felt the college-days-drinking to weigh me down on the hills outside the city, but I soon got back into my rhythm and we climbed from 7,700ft up to 13,000ft over the next three days through beautiful mountain scenery to Potosi.  The new music certainly helped, and I had plenty to look at, passing by dry braided river valleys and giant cacti.  Nearing Potosi, we could start to make out Cerro Rico, the mountain that has been mined from back in the 16^th century for its abundant silver.  At one point in time, Potosi was one of the largest cities in the world, but at a cost.  The mine has since claimed over 8 million lives, and is still irresponsibly used today for tin and zinc.

We arrived in Potosi, found a decent hostel, although all the clientele seemed to be French (what is this!?), and tagged along with a French-Swiss couple to swim in a geothermal lake in a nearby canyon.  At 70ft deep, it was no cakewalk for me (not a deep water person…), but at 12,000ft, the warm water was much appreciated.  The next morning, we did a 5-hour tour of the Potosi mine, visiting the refinery, walking through the entire mountain end-to-end, and then partying with some locals afterward for some important anniversary.  The inside of the mine had parts only perhaps 3ft tall and there was a section where you had to climb up three ladders through a narrow, bored-out hole.  Not a claustrophobics dream, but well worth it to see the maze of tunnels and brilliant blue-green stalagmites within.  The mine has several cooperatives attempting to make the workplace safe and organized, but it is far from so.  The workers go with their own equipment, which is usually nothing more than a few sticks of dynamite, 96% alcohol and coca leaves, literally.  None of them use expensive masks and life expectancy is short.  We had our own swig of the 96% alcohol, which is mere rubbing alcohol, and emerged into daylight to run a few more errands for the ride to Uyuni.  In the evening, we went out with some French folks on our mine tour for some local soup and wine.

We pedaled out of Potosi around mid-day; little did we know that the ride to Uyuni harbors extraordinary scenery, a rock-climbers dream really – if only I had brought my shoes!  Near the end of our first day out of the city, we dropped down into a canyon that resembles bits and pieces of Bryce Canyon, with huge red-rock pinnacles and vertical walls left and right.  Oh, the climbing possibilities.  We could have continued cycling, but called it an early day, stunned by the scenery and wishing to see it by moonlight.  We perched the tents out of view of the road on a sandy bench above a dry canyon and watched a nearly full moon rise above the surreal desert.

The next day was even better, as the road undulated up and down through red-rock canyons, before plummeting down to a sandy, salty valley.  I found which artists of my new music collection held the same rhythm as my pedaling, adding a whole new perspective to the scenery around me.  We neared 14,000ft a few times, but could get away with shorts and a sweatshirt, which is always more comfortable to cycle hilly roads.  In the evening, we found a dry riverbed to camp and had a big pasta dinner, retiring to our separate tents to watch movies.  Lord of War was my choice – oh Nicolas Cage, you bad man.  The night was relatively warm, not dipping below 32 and the moon and stars made it possible to leave headlamp in the bags!

On our last day to Uyuni, we cranked out 40km quickly on the flat altiplano-like landscape, leaving the beautiful canyons behind.  With 30km left to go after lunch, the infamous southwesterly wind picked up dead ahead, and coupled with a few 1000ft climbs, wore us right down.  With a little Polica and Forest Swords playing, I managed to tackle the final hill, the view of the vast Salar de Uyuni opening up before us.  We descended down, thrown side to side with the turbulent winds.  The gusts were so strong on the downhill, even my little Bolivian flag snapped!  Thankfully, we rolled downhill all the way into Uyuni, later finding a descent hostel to pass a few days.

The town of Uyuni is really quite horrible.  The paved road ends here and dusty roads lead through a very bleak desert town.  Poverty is everywhere except for the few blocks around the tourist center in the middle of town.  The ride to see the Train Graveyard was difficult against the wind, carrying all the towns’ trash around the desert.  The museum itself is incredible, with dozens of rusting and broken locomotives and boxcars amidst the orange-yellow desert landscape.  A photographer’s paradise, my camera battery decided to die, but I’m thinking of returning tomorrow. 

After tomorrow’s rest day, we’ll be cycling out to and across the Salar de Uyuni, the world’s largest salt flat.  The vast white expanse is even used by passing satellites to recalibrate their altimeters.  We will spend a few nights on the ancient lake, visiting the famous Incahuasi island in the middle, then traverse south, using compasses and a great PDF made by cyclists over the years to meet up with the famous Laguna’s Route which leads through the isolated Southwest Bolivian high desert and down to Chile.  There is one town along the way near the beginning, which is so small and isolated that we won’t even be able to find bread or fruit/veggies.  Then it is 300 desolate kilometers on sand and dirt-track “roads” to the border of Chile.  We will pass by almost a dozen beautiful lakes riddled with flamingos, including one lake that is bright red, then through the Desierto de Dali, which looks as though it has inspired Dali paintings.  There is no food along the way and water will be scarce.  We will be required to carry 12 days of food and we’ll be carrying nearly 3 gallons after every water-source we come across.  We will hit a new trip-high of 16,500ft near some geysers…  I suspect this to be the hardest part of my journey.  Stay tuned, I’ll be back in two weeks!

Loic and I with 12 days of breakfasts, lunches, dinners, 

and snacks for the crazy road ahead!  Three gallons of water

and one of gasoline later and we´re set to go.

July 28 - August 10: La Paz to Sucre, Bolivia

La Paz was one of my favorite big cities in South America, mostly for the modern, positive, intelligent energy about it. It is nice to be somewhere where I can walk around alone at night and know nothing is going to happen. You can also find everything under the sun, from good tents and outdoor gear to 5 types of Avena to netbooks  and other electronic necessaries. And if in the touristy area (a 15 minute walk from the casa), a veggie-burger can be had! It is all built in a steep canyon, so there is no flat ground, which reminded me of Medellin, Colombia. When we rolled into La Paz, it was one day after Loic’s 32nd birthday, so he picked up a cake and champaign and the Casa got quite wild. For the next few days, if not hanging out with all the cool people at the casa de ciclistas, I was out soaking it up while running my errands. When Loic and I returned from doing the World’s Most Dangerous Road with our own bikes (not a good idea without suspension), I had a fantastic surprise! The Belgian couple I had cycled through Ecuador with for a week in 2010 was laying over at the casa! This is their third trip in Latin America and they’re traveling from Paraguay to Lima on a much shorter trip this time through. Check them out at www.cyclocosmos.com! Loic also knew of their blog, so recognized them too. The next day, I picked up my netbook and we all went out for a fantastic lunch, dinner, and ice cream.

June 31: After a quick run to the best supermarket I’ve ever seen in Latin America, we were on the road around 11am. The 1500ft climb back up to El Alto – on the same route we had descended – went surprisingly smoothly. After a quick 1.5 hour climb, we were fighting the El Alto traffic, and as the building scenery began to shape back into desolate altiplano, the traffic got better, but was still heavy throughout the day, especially with trucks. This road connects La Paz and El Alto to the remainder of Bolivia, so it wasn’t expected to be spectacular… Workers are constructing a two way highway, and it is mostly finished, so we are able to have two giant, freshly-paved lanes to ourselves most of the time. Sometimes we have to carry the bikes over parts of the road where bridges haven’t been built or dodge rocks laid on the new tarmac to keep cars off of it. As always, we got some water and began searching for a good stealth camp spot around 4:30. Because of the evil spectacular supermarket, I am carrying 7 dinners, lunches, and breakfasts’ which I certainly felt on the way up to El Alto. The second place we checked out was perfect, near to but hidden from the road by construction dirt piles, and in a decent spot for the suns’ morning warmth. I cooked some soy protein I’ve been carrying since Northern Peru and ‘Near East’ rice pilaf, which brought me back to my childhood, when ma would make it after I got home from school! And now lying in the tent, Deerhunter playing, I can blog fresh with my new computer! Just have to remember that the moon doesn’t rise until the morning, so I’ll have to catch some of the famous altiplano starry sky.

August 1st: The night brought freezing temperatures so we had to wait awhile for our bottles to thaw and ice on the tents to melt. Waiting until around 9am also means the strong wind can get a chance to gain some force, and it has been mostly at our backs for two weeks now! So, half of the time on our own highway, the wind was pushing us quickly along and we had nearly 70 kilometers on our computers by lunchtime! The second half of the day was spent with the trucks and busses on the old road as the new one hasn’t yet been completed further south. Instead of slowing down before passing, trucks usually just honk a few seconds before flying by… What is worse is that oncoming vehicles pass others using our lane, hauling ass in our direction allowing us only 2 or 3 feet of space. I once spat on a pickup that got way too close, which brought me back to 2007 in Missouri when I sprayed water at an angry pickup yelling at all our riders. He then stopped down the road, drunk as ever, and screamed at us until a restaurant owner calmed him down and we could proceed. So maybe it is best to suck it up and not get aggressive! An uneventful work day, we covered some 135km, my longest day of the trip so far, and set up camp behind an electricity converting station – our last night in the altiplano for a little while. The huge distance we covered means we will probably reach Cochabamba in 3 ½ days, when it should normally take 5. The nights’ stars were extraordinary and I began watching the first season of the TV series Terranova.

August 2nd: The sun hit our tents early this morning, but it seems that we can never get out much earlier than 8:30 or 9:00 unless our tents aren’t well hidden. We rode a few kilometers then began climbing out of the altiplano in the direction of Cochabamba, which lies at only 8,500ft, whereas the altiplano averages 12,000ft or more. On our way up, we passed a big town celebration, not unusual, so we stopped and talked with the locals for a while. They were all dressed very traditionally, which is normal for the women, but atypical for the men. Around 2pm, we reached the top of the climb at 14,500ft, snow in places on the sides of the road. The descent was frustrating as it rolled up and down, which is tough after climbing all morning. We stopped in a town for water but there was no tienda (store), so we searched for a tap and found one that would deliver only 1 ½ liters of dirty water before spurting only air; we’d have to be careful with water use tonight! We found the perfect campsite, near the road, but hidden and with a huge view into a canyon. Rice, lentils, peanut, and tomato sauce dinner around a little fire followed by an episode of Terranova. Even at 13,000ft, our new location in the mountains made for a warm evening and it didn’t drop below 32 inside the tent, though the bike and tent fly had to be de-iced in the morning.

August 3rd: After drying the tents, packing everything up and burning our trash, we were out at 9am, knowing we were 105km from Cochabamba and it was possible if the winds were to cooperate. After 20 difficult kilometers of climbing and descending through red rock canyon, we came upon a tiny village on market day. A population of perhaps 50, Pongo had farmers and locals from other towns swelling its one street, buying and selling fresh fruits from the lowlands, alpaca fur from the highlands, and everything produced in between. We picked up some bread and bananas, talked a bit with some youngsters, and began a huge descent from 14,200ft down to 8,500ft. The rough road made it difficult to surpass 40mph, but the views were worth it. Fighting headwinds for an hour, we turned into the valley in which Cochabamba lies and had the winds at our backs. A local cyclist joined our pace-line and we flew into town, stopping only at the supermarket along the way. It was a fantastic feeling knowing we wouldn’t be rolling through dangerous outskirts after dark. Around 4pm, we began looking for a good place to pass the night, but after checking over 20 places, riding an extra 8km through town starving and tired, we had nothing. No place has wifi unless you pay over $10, which is for the fancier hotels, and several places wouldn’t accept the bikes. At 5:30 we settled on a relatively expensive alojamiento for $5 and I took a cold shower, with the water turning off halfway through… Later in the evening, we went out for a huge dinner and ice cream, then to the plaza to watch some awesome dancing. We’ll spend our rest day here before continuing on to Sucre, on a notoriously horrible road made partly of cobblestones!

I’ve realized blogging daily isn’t really an option, but instead I’ll fill you in on the necessaries! Not a whole lot happens in Cochabamba on Sundays, so it was truly a day of actual rest, as rest days sometimes are hiking or rock climbing days. The big event today was the long trek across town to the Hipermaxi supermarket, so there you have it. I saw a poster for a reggae festival last night, should’ve arrived a day earlier! Riding out of Cochabamba late on Monday, we stopped for some time at a nice restaurant on a lake; the whole scene reminded me a bit of Central America. It’s nice to be able to wear a short sleeved shirt and shorts during the day again! Beginning a big climb, we had a really strong headwind, so decided to call it an early day and continue the following morning when we knew the wind would die down. We camped in an awesome eucalyptus grove, well away from the sound and lights from the road, the stars were phenomenal and I was back to not using the rainfly.

The climb was fairly straight-forward, reaching 12,500ft and crossing a town celebrating Bolivia’s Independence Day. Everybody was dressed up dancing and having a blast, and to my surprise there was no alcohol. We reached the crossroads for our ‘back way’ down to Sucre earlier than expected and began cycling on the cobblestone road, and pitched our tents after dark after finding it difficult to camp with all the small farms and houses everywhere. Luckily, we had a nice sunrise over the mountains! The scenery in this area is incredible, perhaps the best since riding out of Copacabana, and reminded me a bit of northern Ecuador for the large rolling hills and deep, green valleys.

What group of people gathered around, trying to decide what material to use to build a road, and finally choosing river rocks? I want to know. So yea, cycling on river rocks for 40 miles is quite taxing, and I got my first flat tire of the trip, which took an hour to fix as instead of one hole, I must have rolled through a small goat head bush and had upwards of 10 holes, ruining my tube. Then one of my two new tubes was broken from the beginning. Needless to say, we were excited to finally reach the dirt road at a large town where we could resupply. But then leaving town, we realized the dirt might actually be worse as everything got extremely dusty, from my chain to my lungs, with the passing cars. We found a decent place to sleep in a dry riverbed, but the way the wind was blowing, everything soon became dusty with passing cars.

In the morning, we attempted to clean up some of the dusty mess, burned our trash and took off pretty early. It was a long, dirty descent into a desert canyon where temperatures reached a stifling 85 degrees, which is difficult to handle having been acclimatized to such cold temperatures of the Altiplano. Loic got a flat tire, his first since we’ve been traveling together, and I dealt with a bout of heat exhaustion and dehydration. Luckily we had reached the paved road, but it was all uphill to Sucre now. Stopping early from exhaustion, we waited out the heat and went to be early. I awoke in the middle of the night and it was 81 degrees in the tent, wow! Much different than 24 degrees a few days ago.

In the morning, we left early to beat the heat, carrying 7 liters of water each, and were cycling along a large braided river. The way rose and fell, usually 150ft at a time, making cycling quite frustrating, but after a few hours, we left the river and began up the 4000ft climb to Sucre. Having climbed quite a bit already alongside the river, the heat wasn’t as stifling as yesterday. During the day, we normally say hello to 50 to 100 Bolivians on the side of the road, talking with a few of them about our travels, but today was a day just for earphones and I didn’t feel bad to ignore those wanting to ask me where I was from and where I am going, as it is always the same. Where are you from? Canada. Where are you going? Argentina. Aren’t you tired? Yes. Afterall, today is Day 100!

The climb was quite steep, and we weren’t making great time, but we held onto the back of a slow-moving truck for 45 minutes and were able to reach Sucre by late afternoon, checking into a hostel with tons of travelers, most studying Spanish at the school next door. We partied a bit last night, are doing a barbeque thing this evening, and perhaps headed out to go rock climbing tomorrow, so we’ll be here for a few days!