Love in his face - above Chavinillo (View on flickr)

Yesterday we rode about 45 miles up to 4000 meters (13,120 feet) and then down to 1900 meters (6232 feet) on a nasty, loose, difficult dirt road. Randy crashed on the downhill. He scraped up his arm and hip and bruised a rib. I was behind him and when I came up to him he was down on the ground holding his hip, right on an edge of the road 5 feet from a big, big drop. He was bruised up yesterday but feeling better today. Seeing him lying there scared me. By his position, I thought he broke a hip or a leg. All the rest of the day I was upset.

Snowcapped nevados up from Chavinillo (View on flickr)

And Randy got his favorite bike tool (a Topeak Alien multi-tool) taken or lost, probably in the midst of a crowd at a fiesta in a little tiny pueblo at the top of the pass. Everybody was pressing around us. We don't know for sure that somebody took it then, but it was gone right then. He had used it earlier that morning. We have to find a replacement for some of those tools now.

And Randy lost his sunglasses somewhere, so was riding all day with no protection against the immense dust of the road.

View from our hotel room in Huaraz (View on flickr)

Randy and Nancy in front of Cordillera Blanca peak (View on flickr)

We've just had the delight of riding right up into the Andes, over the highest pass of our trip, and over hundreds of kilometers of both paved and dirt road. It has to be some of the best bike touring we've ever done. And some parts of it were probably as hard as we've ever done.

In Huaraz, in the Cordillera Blanca, we looked out of our hotel window at the amazing peaks of the tallest mountain range outside the Himalayas. Huaraz is at about 3000 meters, or 10,000 feet. But from there we began to climb gradually to a pass at 4300 meters, then down a bit, then up to the biggest pass of the trip, at 4700 meters (15,400 feet). It was all incredibly beautiful.

But the best part all along the way was the people we met. There were shy families along the way, tending their sheep while knitting or spinning wool into yarn. One woman let Nancy hold her most prized lamb. We ran into celebrations in three different villages. They roped us into the dancing and the eating and the drinking. It was a delight. We stayed the night camped out with a Spaniard who is "getting away from it all" with a flourish - he and a friend showed Nancy how to pan for gold - and she found a little flake of gold in the Rio Maranon! Now she's rich and can afford the rest of the trip.

Lots of people ask us how we get money while travelling, and whether we carry a lot of cash, etc. Here's an attempt to answer your questions.

Money is obviously a big issue. You want to have enough, but not so much that you might lose it all at once.

These days it's just tremendously easy to get money from ATMs. The only exception to this that I know of is Cuba, and that's a whole different story. But everywhere we've been we're just a few days from an ATM. There are times the ATM doesn't work or won't dispense the amount of money we want, but the ATM has completely put away the use of travellers' checks (a waste of time and money) and the need to carry large amounts of dollars. (FYI: There are actually a number of machines in Latin America where you can withdraw dollars in addition to the local currency.)

Some tips:

• Use a debit card. It costs LOTS of fees to do a cash advance against a credit card.
• Find out from your bank how much it will cost to use your card at an ATM in Latin America. Some banks charge 2% of the advance and perhaps an additional transaction fee. Our bank (Fidelity) charges nothing. (The ATMS/Banks themselves sometimes charge a fee, but usually not. Sometimes there's a US$1.00 fee tacked on the statement. Sometimes there's a fee added at the ATM. Often there's no charge.)
   read more here... »

Kids in La Union fascinated with Randy (View on flickr)

Everywhere we go in Peru the children cry out "Gringo!" It has happened in lots of countries, but they're SO enthusiastic about it here. Some cyclists misunderstand this cultural phenomenon and think that "gringo" has a negative context (or only applies to North Americans). It's just not true. Gringo is just a regular descriptive term, and everywhere we've been it just describes people who talk funny, wear funny clothes, have a funny walk, and probably have money. That even includes people from Chile, and can include kids from the city who dress like gringos.

Some people have heard the story that "gringo" was something said in Mexico during the various US invasions, and it referred to the green uniforms of the invading US troops, and they were saying "Green Go Home" or something. Well, it might be true (nobody knows) but is has nothing to do with what "gringo" means today. Gringo just refers to any north-American, European, Japanese, or most any foreigner who looks or talks funny. It's not an insult. Of course, like any descriptive term it could be used as an insult.

People sometimes ask us what kind of bike we recommend, and how we manage bike maintenance. Here are some thoughts.

Ride a bike that's maintainable. In Latin America, that means a 26" mountain-bike style bike with standard components (V-Brakes or cantilever brakes, not disk brakes). You can buy 26" tires and tubes in even a small town, and you can find a mechanic who will have at least some tools for working on your bike. In a medium-sized town, you can get a rim and maybe spokes. If you have a 700cm wheel, you may have to send away to the nearest capital city and wait for a few days to get some of these things. Some people with difficult-to-obtain parts have spent lots of money on international shipping (and then on customs duties) and have waited ages to get going again when they've had a failure.

Ride a bike that's strong. It's better to be heavy than fragile. Get 36-spoke wheels (we're committed to this after a long failure of a 32-spoke back wheel in Canada. We haven't had a broken spoke since we switched to 36 spoke wheels). Get straight-gauge, strong spokes.

Carry a few spare parts. You can't carry everything. We always have tubes and patch kits, some spokes and the tools to replace them. Many people carry a spare tire. We don't, at least until now.

Camping at the school at Conococha (View on flickr)

When other cyclists told us we would probably spend a lot of nights in hotels in Latin America, we kind of scoffed at them. As seasoned bike tourists, having camped all over the US and Canada, we figured we'd be camping more than most.

But we have been staying more than 80% of the time in hotels in Latin America (although that number is declining as we get farther south). People ask about this, so we thought we'd tell you why.

Camping in Latin America is different from camping in the US and Canada. There are no (or almost no) "official" campgrounds. It's really rare to see anything like that, and when you do, it's often more expensive than a hotel. And there is almost no "unclaimed" land, like in the western US or Canada. In the US and Canada, if you see a quiet place, you can just set your tent up there (if you're discreet) and nobody will ever know or bother you. In Latin America, almost everything is "owned". One time we set up discreetly behind a horse barn in a Mexican pasture right at dusk. Since we had run out of options, we just set up. We were immediately discovered. Some kids came and checked on us right away. Nobody bothered us, but we were not succeeding at hiding out.

Crawling my way up the highest peak,
I wonder if I can do this.
Can I ride my bike up to the heavens?
Or will I die, will my heart give out,
Will I fall off the edge from the lack of oxygen?

What is 4 plus 4
It all comes so slowly
I have to go on.
I yell to myself
Pay attention
No crying,
Get on with it
Obediently I pedal on

Nancy cresting the Abra Yana Shalla, at 4700 meters (15,400 feet) (View on flickr)

Today we crossed the highest point of our journey so far, and perhaps the highest of the trip. After climbing back up into the Andes (the Cordillera Blanca) for more than a week, we crossed over 15,400 foot (4700 meter) Abra Yana Shalla. We had been working our way up to this, climbing no more than 1000 meters per day as we got into the really high places. Nancy really felt the altitude in a number of ways, so we were trying to be as careful as possible. But we made the last push this morning up into the barren peaks. We saw lots of beautiful scenery in the last few days and will try to get the pictures uploaded within a few days.

People often ask us about health-related issues, so here are some answers.

Health Insurance: Since we are from the US, with an immensely expensive and burdensome healthcare system, we felt that we had to carry health insurance that would cover us there. Although we might be able to cover expenses for most types of events in the other countries of our journey, a single week in a hospital in the US can easily bankrupt anyone. So we carry normal (expensive) major medical, high deductible ($10,000) health insurance that would cover us if we had to go limping home for a major chronic illness or something. But that insurance doesn't cover us outside the US, so if we had a serious accident or something, we could end up without coverage. So we also bought health insurance that covers us outside the US (cheaper by far). Our monthly expenses for health insurance are probably the biggest expense of the trip.

Note that "Trip insurance" is not worth much for a trip of this size, since it is not renewable and typically has pretty serious limitations. It's oriented to people going on vacation, not to people living abroad. What we needed (and most travellers will need) is the type of insurance that expatriates buy. The folks at Global Insurance Net make a specialty of this type of insurance, and we were pleased with their expertise and service.

Stillness of the desert (View on flickr)

Click here for all of our favorite photos from this section
After more than three weeks of not riding we are back on the road once again in Peru. We made a two-week trip back to the United States to see all our family members and are glad to report all are well. It was good to see the family as well it was a delight to see all our wonderful friends.

We returned to Trujillo, Peru and stayed once again at the Casa de Ciclistas where Lucho and his family have offered free hospitality to cyclist for 23 years. Randy and I were visitor 998. While staying there, we meet 7 different cyclists from all over the world.

We have now been on the road for 5 days and are taking a rest day in Caraz. The ride from the coast up to Caraz has been amazing, spectacular, a hard ride on mostly dirt road, some good and some awful. The best part is the lack of traffic which permitted us to enjoy the majestic views of the mountains and the river valley we pedalled through.

On private road to Chiquicara (View on flickr)

When we came back to Peru I started riding with a Ibex BOB trailer trailer again instead of using panniers as I have for the last few years. It was kind of a return to my roots, since I used a BOB for our first several rides in 2001-2005. So far, I'm happy to be pulling my old friend Bob again. It feels good on the bike.

You may not know it, but since the BOB was introduced, US touring cyclists have often raged at each other about its advantages and disadvantages. As one who has used both the pannier system (front and back racks with saddlebags attached to them) and the BOB, a single-wheeled bike trailer, I thought I could weigh in on advantages and disadvantages.

• I think when you ride with the BOB it's more like riding a bike and less like driving a truck, which is how I feel when riding with panniers.
• The BOB is a bit easier on the bike, since there's one more wheel to spread out the load. The frame of the bike gets almost no strain (and it can get quite a bit going over bumps with the panniers). The rear axle still gets about half the load, but the frame itself gets almost nothing.
• My kickstand doesn't work any more! In general, it's just harder to manage the bike+bob configuration when you're off the bike. I think it's easier to manage when you're riding, but harder when you're off. For example, you can't easily back up (just like with a car and a trailer.)
   read more here... »

Group pose at Casa de ciclistas as Pius and Stefan leave (View on flickr)

People often ask us "Has anyone ever done this before?" or "Are you setting a new Guinness Record?". The answer, of course, is an authoritative NO! We know this, of course, but stopping at the Casa de Ciclistas in Trujillo and looking through the logs makes us really feel humble. We were the 998th entry over 24 years. Plenty of people have been through here! There are slow people and fast, many rides as long as ours, but many much longer. Here are a few links and a few details about some of the folks who have signed their names in the logs at Trujillo.

Hans Stuecke

Hans has been bike touring for 46 years, and has visited at least 193 countries. He really HAS set a Guinness record. I don't think we're going to touch his record anytime soon!

Dominic Gill

Dominic started his ride about the same time as we did, and we actually met him for a few moments in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. But Dominic just finished riding a tandem (most of the time by himself, alone) with gear for himself and a guest, all the way from Alaska to Patagonia. His gear weight was incredible, but his idea was "Take a Seat". He invited anybody who wanted to to come along for a ride for as long as they wanted. He had incredible experiences.

 read more here... »

Lucho with Lance - In training (View on flickr)

When we came down from the mountains of Peru to the coast we stayed at the fabled Casa de Ciclistas (House of Cyclists) in Trujillo, Peru. Lucho Ramirez started offering his simple house to passing touring cyclists clear back in 1984, and is on the edge of crossing the one thousand mark. One thousand groups of cyclists have signed his journal and stayed there over almost 25 years! One cyclist stayed a year! Many stay far longer than they expect to, often for a week or more. It's a delight to browse through the journals and see famous cyclists that we've either met or heard of who passed this way. Our friends Dick and Els, from Holland, signed the book about 5 years ago. Our friend Andrew signed it just a month or so ago. Our friends Pat and Cat also passed through about 3 years ago.

Many of you have asked us if we're setting some kind of a record or something, and the answer is no, we're really slow, and lots and lots of people have gone farther. Although not all the cyclists who have stopped at Lucho's house were doing rides as big as ours, many were doing rides much bigger. One fellow, Hans Stuecke, has been cycling for 46 years!

Frank Lewis (View on flickr)

Dad - Abbott Fay at park near Grand Junction (View on flickr)

We just got back to Peru from a whirlwind trip back to the US. It was great, and exhausting. First, we had to take a 10-hour bus down to the coast from Cajamarca, then an 8-hour bus from Trujillo to the capital of Peru, Lima. Then we flew for ages to Boston, and we arrived in time for the main event that timed our trip: The 80th birthday celebration of Nancy's dad, Frank Lewis. We went to her brother Dan's cabin in New Hampshire and had a delightful celebration.

Then we flew to Denver and got to see Randy's kids, Elisheba and Mark, and drove to Grand Junction, Colorado to see Randy's parents. We got to walk with them and see their new home at the Atrium living center in Grand Junction - they have a beautiful cottage, complete with even more space than they had before, a garage, and a meal a day at the nice facility next door. Very good setup.

Then we drove back to Denver and had a get-together with friends which was an absolute delight. Several friends came to say hello, and even one set of bike tourists we'd never met, Nick and Dave, two impressive young men who are about to set off from Denver on their way to Panama. Thanks to all of you who came and who couldn't for your friendship! Thanks, Ann, for the delightful hosting of the party!

Loading the potato truck that will take us to Celendín (View on flickr)

OK, I must confess we took a ride in a truck full of freshly-picked potatoes. The 100-mile ride took 10 hours through some very high mountains of northern Peru and down though hot valleys and back up to the heavens.

We have decided (or is it that I have decided?) that occasionally it does make sense to take alternative transportation through some areas which seem too difficult for biking with our load. The route we have taken through northern Peru has taken us through very beautiful, amazing landscapes. And amazing elevation climbs, descents and ascents. In one area from Leymebamba to Celendin, after reading another cyclist's blog through this area, I was intimidated and decided I would rather take a bus then climb up to 3600 meters (12,000 feet), descend to 900 meters (3000 feet) and then climb back up to 3100 meters on a dirt road, along cliffs that drop thousands of feet with only a slice of road carved on the face of the mountain.

Donkeys everywhere (View on flickr)

Peru has some of the biggest mountains and deepest valleys we have encountered so far. We find it very interesting to ride the high mountains of Peru because the sierras are inhabited by indigenous people who live in the traditional ways they have maintained for centuries. Not much has changed in hundreds of years. In some areas we have been riding through there is no electricity, no running water, no paved road, lots of sheep, cows, chickens, donkeys which carry cargoes of milk, wood, heavy loads of vegetables like potatoes, corn and cabbage. The people themselves carry huge loads on their backs. The women wear the same traditional clothes they have for ages including special hats which identify the area they come from. Around Cajamarca the women wear short skirts with ballooning petticoats, tall, wide-brimmed hand-woven hats made of fine strands of straw. They all have wraps and ponchos to either keep warm or carry a load. They're even shorter than me. From the distance they sometimes remind me of the profile of Halloween witch The women in Northern Peru can be seen herding donkeys loaded with metal containers of milk, babies on their backs and walking along a high mountain road while spinning wool on a stick, preparing the wool for knitting or weaving. The women always have busy hands. Always. Where we are right now the women knit afghans of multiple colors, ponchos, and sweaters. If they don't have a baby on their backs they're carrying a load of firewood, twigs, or huge bunches of herbs and greens.

Loading the bikes into the boat for the crossing of the Rio Marañon (View on flickr)

Rice paddies (View on flickr)

From San Ignacio we descended rapidly into a completely different kind of country - rice paddies everywhere. Neither of us had ever seen the cultivation of rice before, so we were amazed to see the effort required to work with the plants at the various parts of their life cycle. It was beautiful, too, but like we had left the high mountains and landed in a south-east Asian area!

After about 50 kilometers of dirt (formerly paved, but long since decayed) we hit beautiful new pavement for the first time in days. And it was downhill, too. But we soon turned off for a shortcut that we read about in Peter Berechree's incredible blog of his Andes-by-bike adventure. We took a dirt-road turnoff to the town of Bellavista and found our way to the banks of the Rio Marañon, a major river headed to the Amazon. Hoping that we'd gotten to the right place, we waved and yelled to a fellow cleaning his boat on the other side, he eventually came for us. We loaded the bikes up a 2x4 ramp and crossed over in a jiffy, then road a few miles to catch the highway again. We got a pleasant little diversion from the highway and probably eliminated 50 kilometers from our route.

Maria from Pungalá (View on flickr)

Links:

• All our Ecuador stories in order
• All our Ecuador pictures
• Galapagos pictures
• Route notes and details, including maps and elevation profiles

Ecuador turned out to be a very pleasant, tranquil country. With the exception of Quito, which has problems like any other large city, we felt completely comfortable and safe everywhere in the country. In fact, we felt that Ecuador was as safe as our previous most-comfortable country, Nicaragua. (Nicaragua would have to exclude its capital, Managua, as well, but we didn't go there.)

Ecuador is incredibly well-organized for tourism and gringos. There are tours and language schools and even a fair number of people who speak some English. They use the US dollar for currency. There is a whole section of Quito (Gringolandia) devoted to nice restaurants and stores of every type catering to gringos. We were able to get some nice sports equipment (warm clothes and such) that you would not have found in most places we have been. It's a very easy place to be.

Mudholes everywhere, climbing up from Namballe to San Ignacio (View on flickr)

They master riding early in this part of Peru (View on flickr)

We are now in Peru. Another country! This is the 11th country we have entered with our bikes. With something like 11,800 miles (19,000 kilometers) we crossed the Ecuador border into Peru at La Balsa. This was the quietest and most rural border crossing we have done to date. As the immigration officer stamped our paperwork, a chicken roamed the room pecking at crumbs, a herd of cows passed out front and the money changers sat on the bridge enjoying beer on this late Saturday. No one came up to us asking if we wanted to change our money from dollars (which they use in Ecuador) to Soles (Peru's currency). That was a first.

From the border we started off following a river and actually had a flat road for 7 kilometers. Yes flat. We heard that Peru is flatter then Ecuador but we could not believe it. Of course, we found out otherwise in the morning, as the road rose above the village of Namballe. The people were so friendly on our ride from Namballe to San Ignacio! We feel like rock stars once again. Everyone waves and beeps and everyone says hello and "welcome to Peru". We even got filmed by a couple passing by on motorcycles. He explained it is for marketing material promoting tourism in the town of San Ignacio. Along the route a young boy ran after us with two papayas in his hands to give us as a present. His name was Carlos and he had no shoes but he had a wonderful smile to go with his kindness. We have found the people much more outgoing and less intimidated than the reserved folks of the highlands of Ecuador. We like it when people think we are special. We make more contacts and find out more about the people we see along the way.

Indigenous boy posing for us near Saraguro (View on flickr)

Randy showing the kids what it's like (View on flickr)

The ride from Cuenca to the Peru border was one of the best and most beautiful (and hardest) rides so far on this trip. We rode on quiet roads, some paved but most dirt. The landscape was gorgeous and the views amazing. We rode through small indigenous villages where the women wore colorful traditional dresses, jewelry, and felt hats. The traffic was almost non-existent as soon as we left Cuenca. It picked up a little as we rode in and out of Loja. In Loja by chance we met Chaski, a Peruvian man who is walking the Inca trail, learning about the traditional ways people grow potatoes. He is an educator and he is connecting the indigenous people of South America together. We had met him in the far north of Ecuador and got to have dinner with him again.

The next day we rode to Saraguro, a pleasant village with proud and friendly people. The people seem to have a nice life, a sense of community and continue with the traditional Ecuadoran Indigenous life style. Many of the indigenous villages we had passed through seemed reserved and hardship seems to weigh on their shoulders. This village was strikingly different. It was a much happier place. The people more open and had smiles to share. We wanted to stay for the Sunday market but Vilcabamba was calling us.