Die Tage werden kuerzer, die Sonne brennt mehr und mehr in meinem Nacken - alles anzeichen das ich mich mehr und mehr nach Sueden in den letzten Wochen vorgeschoben habe. Die Loecher in meinem letzten verbliebenen T-Shirt werden groesser und groesser, so dass ich jetzt ganz punktgezielten Sonnenbrannt am Ruecken habe. Es wird Zeit das Shirt umzudrehen, es wird Zeit nach Peru zu kommen. Somit gingen die letzten Tage in Ecuador vorueber und ich erreichte irgendwann die Grenze. Eine kleine Extrarunde durfte ich allerdings noch drehen, bevor ich Ecuador verlassen wollte. Ich habe doch glatt den Grenzposten, der hier 8km vor der Grenze und vorm letzten Ort liegt, uebersehen. Nun stand ich also an der Grenze und hatte keinen Ausreisestempel. Da half alles nichts und ich schaffte sogar fast noch die 1000km in Ecuador zu knacken. Ein paar Kilometerchen hinter der Grenze gabs ohne Probleme die Einreise nach Peru. Erstaunlich, wie sich in den letzten Jahren die Grenzueberschreitungen in den 2. und 3. Weltlaendern verbessert haben und wie es sich mehr und mehr erschwert, in die 1. Welt einzureisen - durchgeknallten Regierungen und Terroristen sei Dank!

Am Tag meiner Einreise in mein 11 und letztes Land dieser Tour fuhr ich bis zur erst groesseren Stadt im nordwesten. Tumbes und Umgebung waren gruener als ich es aus Buechern gelesen hatte. Eigentlich hatte ich mir vorgestellt, bereits mitten in einer hitzetreibenden Wueste zu sein, aber heftigen Regenfaellen sei dank, war die Landschaft in eine Grassteppe mit Reisfeldern verwandelt. Hinter Tumbes war der Suedliche Stille Ozean erreicht und auch die stark verwitterten Wuestenhuegel. Fuer einen Tag saeumte sich die Panamericana entlang lieblich daliegenden Straenden, die bei relativ angenehmen Temperaturen und strahlen blauem Himmel menschenleer dalagen. Ich passierte so lieblich klingende Oertchen wie Los Organos und strampelte vorbei am Punta Sal. Das graue Asphaltband neigt sich nun langsam aber stetig Land einwaerts, doch es gibt Optionen. So zum Beispiel biege ich ab zum Cabo Blanco, einst eine Szene fuer Hemingways "Der alte Man und das Meer", heute Szene fuer Bohrinseln und Oelpipelines. Ich passierte einige Kontrollpunkte der ansaessigen Oelgesellschaft, wurde aber niemals gehindert, meinen Weg fortzusetzen. Ab und an kam ein staubaufwirbelndes Allradfahrzeug vorbei, was die Techniker und Mechaniker von einer maroden Oelfoerderanlage zur naechsten immer auf trab haelt. Im Gegensatz zu den gesehenen kolumbianischen Oelfoerderanlagen war das hier ein Witz! Ich kaempfte mich durch Treibsandfelder und dachte mir, es mit dem nahen Strand mal zu versuchen. Doch das fortkommen dort war ein richtiges Desaster. Ich war umzingelt von tausenden von Krabben, die wie Ballerinas leichtfuessig auf dem Sand vor mir auswichen, als wuerden sie dabei kichern, wie das schwerbepackte Monster sich stapfend durch den Sand plagt. Zurueck auf meiner Sandpiste quaelte ich mich mit metertiefen Auswaschungen, die die Piste ab und an durchschnitten. Nach einigen Stunden stand fest, ich wuss mich noch einmal an die Panamericana hangeln, bevor ich die Wuestenstadt Talara erreichen wuerde.

   Auf abgelegenen Wegen zur Oasenstadt Talara

Eine Nacht trennte mich nur noch vom westlichsten Festlandspunkt Suedamerikas. Diese Nacht wollte ich campenderweise unweit von einigen Fernmeldesendemasten verbringen. Ein Armeestuetzpunkt war auch nicht weit. Ich wuerde also in besten Handen aufgehoben sein, dachte ich. Die Sendemasten werden Stunden bewacht. Der Wachmann der sich es gerade gemuetlich fuer seine Nachtschicht machen wollte, sah mich und wusste gleich mal ausspionieren, was da im Busch abgeht. Nach einigem hin und her wollte er mich letztlich vertreiben, doch mein Zelt stand schon und die Muecken fingen an, mich zu unortodoxen Bewegungen zu treiben. Da dachte dich der Wachmann vielleicht, es ist Zeit sein Flinte zu holen. Wieder zurueck gab er mir noch eine Warnung und lad in Cowboymanier durch um seine Entscheidung mich zu vertreiben, zu unterstreichen. Ich dachte, das ist doch jetzt ein Witz oder? Mitten in der Wueste mir den Platz fuer mein Zelt zu verwaehren, was nach  Stunden sowieso wieder verschwunden ist. Ich fragte ihn, ob er mich jetzt erschiessen muesse, weil ich jetzt naemlich ins Bett gehe und mich hier nach meinem harten Tag auf gar keine Diskusion mehr einlassen wollte. So habe ich als Abschiedsgruss noch gesagt, er sollte mir die Polizei und seinen Vorgsetzten herschicken. Das ist natuerlich eine bescheidene Situation fuer den Wachmann, mich jetzt einfach umzuknallen, nur weil ich schlafen gehen wuerde, was sicher kein direkter Angriff auf seinen Sendemasten darstellt, oder mal ein bisschen runterzurudern und die Wumme zu entladen. Fuer diese Sekunden schoss mein adrenalinpegel ziemlich in die hoehe, denn innerlich hoffte ich natuerlich, er wuerde die richtige Entscheidung treffen und nicht das ballern anfangen. Ich sollte recht behalten, denn er sagte ploetzlich, ich koenne bleiben, aber ich waere unter Zeltarrest. Dieser Arrest wurde nun stuendlich die gesamte Nacht durch kontrolliert, dadurch war an einen erholsamen schlaf schon gar nicht zu denken. Gluecklicherweise ging auch diese Nacht vorueber und ich wagte erste behutsame Schritte aus dem Zelt, als das Morgengrauen einsetzte, um meine drueckende Blase zu entleeren.

Hinter dem Punta de Balcones, dem westlichsten Punkt ging’s wieder auf wildwest Piplinepiste weiter, bis ich im Sand stecken blieb. Ueber die einzelnen Servicestressen zu den Oelbrunnen schlaengelte ich mich im Zickzack nach dem Motto, zwei Schritt vor ein zurueck, nach Sueden. Bei Miramar erreichte ich ein gruenes Flusstal mit Reisfeldern und schattenspendenden Mangobaeumen. Wunderschoen, dieser Kontreast zwischen den karst schimmernden erodierten Talhaengen und dem saftigen gruen mit seinen Bewaesserungskanaelen. Spaeter landete ich wieder in der Wueste und suchte mir eine weitere Strecke abseits der Panamericana. Diese sollte mich am suedichen Ende der Sechura Bucht nach anderthalb Tagen in einer Sackgasse stecken lassen. Gluecklicherweise musste ich nur 5km vor der entgueltigen Sackgasse mit treten aufhoeren, weil mich ein vorbeifahrendes Auto anhielt, um mir mitzuteilen - die Wueste ist abgesoffen. Abgesoffen? Das war wohl das letzte womit ich hier im trostlosen Nichts gerechnet haette. Durch die anhaltend schweren Regenfaelle an den Westhaengen der Anden druecken dich nun riesige Wassermassen ins Flachland und um die Sandduenen. Dadurch kommt es zu unterspuehlungen die auf einem Abschnitt von ca. 300m die Strasse weggespuehlt hatten. Das Wasser schiesst nun mit einer enormen Stroemung bei 2m Wassertiefe entlang, wo sich einst eine Strasse befand. Wir sind hier in Peru, da kommt sowas schon mal vor. Und vorallem kommt sowas auch schon einmal vor 6 Monaten vor, wobei es innerhalb eines halben Jahres nicht jemand noetig haette, den Strassendamm wieder aufzuschuetten, sondern noch nicht einmal ein Hinweisschild an den jeweiligen Strassenkreuzungen aufzustelen, das diese Strecke unpassierbar sei. Die Autofahrer waren allerdings die von der netten Seite. Die brachten mich doch glatt in gut Stunden Autofahrt auf die andere Seite - schlappe 200km Umweg.

  Freundliche Menschen fahren mich 200km ums Wuestenwasser; kurz darauf passiere ich meinen 10.000sten Tourenkilometer

Nun war es Zeit fuer die erste Besichtigung, einer praekolumbianischen Kultur. Von diesen Kulturen scheint Peru wirklich gut gefuellt zu sein und es gibt Ausgrabungsstaetten quer ueber dieses riesige Land verteilt. Was ich sagen will, es gibt unendlich mehr als nur die Weltbekannte Inkastadt Machu Picchu zu sehen. So zum Beispiel den Señor von Sipan, fuer dessen groessten jemals in Suedamerika ausgebuddelten Goldschatz eigens ein ganzes Musaum in Lambayeque geschaffen wurde. Sehr beeindruckend fuer mich, und fuer jeden Goldschmied, der sich dieses Museum anschaut, sicherlich umhauend, wie praeziese hier feinster Goldschmuck produziert wurde.

   Am Ortseingang von Lambayeque, zu Besuch beim Señor von Sipan

Trujillo kam immer naeher und ich musste doch noch ein letztes Abenteuer einbauen. Eine 3- tages Tour sozusagen. Einmal schnell in die Berge, auf knapp 3000m schlafen und wieder zurueck in die Wueste. Ja, das spiegelt das erlebte sicher nicht ganz wieder, doch dazu werde ich mich spaeter auslassen, sowie ueber die Casa de Ciclistas von Lucho sprechen und natuerlich wie meine erste Begegnung mit Isa in diesem Jahr verlaufen ist. Doch jetzt muss ich erst einmal ganz schnell den Computer verlassen, um in Richtung Galapagos abzuduesen. Auch davon wird es in ca.10 Tagen sicher eine Menge zu schreiben geben.

    Auf 3-Tages Tour in die peruanischen Anden…

    ….wo sind die Wueste sehr schnell verabschiedet und sich eine einzigartige Flora und Fauna ausbreitet

Border cities are always weird. Cities in latin america in general are hard to read, in terms of directions. Keep always a good amount of orientation, mix it with the answer of people you ask and everything is gonna be fine. But if you’re heading for a border crossing, never forget to ask in advance where to find the immigration office. Well, it hasn’t been really often on that trip to search for the immigration office and their normally not far from border crossings. It’s a little different in the case of Huaquillas crossing. I came in the main street and as it happens sometimes, you’re ending up in a crowd of people, squeezing through narrow channels of market stalls, coverd with all kinds of tarp and plastic for sun protection way too low. I don’t enjoy that mix of market and bike, espacially if I don’t want to buy anything and just need to plow my way to the border. There is light coming on the end of the market tunnel, I see a sign "International Bridge" and Bienvenidos a Peru. Not too bad, I thought, but where is the ecuadorian guy who prints me my exit in the passport? Back in Ecuador, over the bridge, I found a uniformed guy and he said immigration is 8km inland. Thank you Ecuador, for not having a sign made for stupid tourists. Well, I made my way back and forth and almost managed it to ride 1000km in Ecuador.

     no immigration at the border, but many money changers who offer false money; back at the pacific in Peru - people drink Inca Cola, which is Coca Cola own brand but yellow

I rode that day with a good breeze of head wind until Tumbes, the biggest city in Peru’s north west. And, by the way, I carry the head wind until today, what adjusts my daily average speed by around 14km/h. I changed the ecuadorian banana plantations for shiny green rice fields. The blue sky was lined with hundreds of fregate birds, my first sign of the sea. The wind is freshen up and the surf of the ocean comes in reach. That was the first day, I saw back the pacific, since I left Panama city. It’s still the same waters, but the sea feels different down here. I remember, how bone crushing the heat in central america was. But right here, the Humboldt streem keeps the water cooler and offers a fresh breeze. The towns I rode through, have a lot of tourist infrastructure, but no one to see. And all the development looks more like being under permanent hibernation. Only Mancora showed a different beat. Is it, because in my map is written "famous beach"?!

I changed rice fields for desert, sometimes more sandy or rocky and now with many oil pumps. The Panamericana takes it’s way a few sand dunes further inland, but I wanted to ride in the first row. I went down to Cabo Blanco, that’s where the world seems on an end. In fact, I was past latitude 81 degree west and close to the most western point of south america. My road option along oil pipe lines ended soon in quicksand. I tried the beach but it was more torturous. High tide didn’t leave me any room of riding on packed sand. I pushed for a while and noticed, it was senseless what I was doing, because the next city was may be 40km away. I went back on the pipe line track, but had to look for the Panamericana the last few miles to Talara. I camped nearby some telecommunication towers. The night guard for one of these towers watched me setting up my camp from 200m away. Of course, the security guy needed to come by to chat. Camping?! His first answer was all right and he left. Talking on the radio to his boss, he changed his mind and said, I should pack up. I wasn’t in the mood for those kind of games after an exhausting day. The guard kept on showing me all kinds of faces now. He went pack to the tower and came back with his shotgun. The sun went down and the bugs came out what felt like being in Labrador in spring time. This guy was so on his NO-trip, I would normally say, it’s not worth discussing anything with him. He’s gone to the tower again and I’m curious with what he comes up next. Yeah - the bullet proof vest! I totally forgot and I had a steel helmet closer in mind. I made him clear, I won’t move tonight. He answers with charging the weapon - I couldn’t believe. I’m somewhere in the middle of a desert, occupy 2 square meter sandy ground and this guy is gun pointing me. You wanna kill me or what, and that’s when I stopped being nice and try to speek spanish. I told him I want to see his boss or/and the cops here - right now! He left frustrated, came back and told me, I could stay, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the tent. He started now terrorizing me all night long. He came up every single hour, lighted out my tent, gave me ten questions - if everything was alright. After coming up to my tent by about 20 times the last 12 hours, the day arrived - oh my goodness! The last thing he said, before his night shift went over, we need to change anything, because we’re good friends now and that’s what friends do. Fortunatly right at that moment, the crew change bus arrived and he had to go - bye bye my friend! I actually had fear all night long, that he would steel anything.

     rough riding through oil fields near Cabo Blanco and remember, steep, steeper as,….hopefully enough grip

I finally passed "Punta de Balcones" the most western landpoint of south america. I found more pipline road and asked this time, if that way really brings me south to Miramar. The latino answers are always the same: "Si, Si - directo!" Yes, direct into no nothing after 5km! It’s more frustrating asking someone, than just go for it. Within a crazy zig-zag course for 15km through oilfields and on their service roads, I ended up on the right way, just before giving up. I arrived in Miramar at the mouth of Rio Chira. All this settlements I passed don’t see so much gringos. A common response of my friendly greating was being kept in a frozen position, with open mouth where any word was stuck in the throat. Is it an alien from another planet, or what?!

     on lonely tracks to south americas west end

The Panamericana cuts of the whole section and leads direct to Sullana. I rode through a beautiful river valley seamed by green fields and their artificial water canal system. Sometimes I just rode on the canal dam, as the locals do with their horses, donkeys, bikes and, of course, their 3-wheel mototaxis. Those mototaxis are like ants. There spread anywhere I go. It’s enjoyable to watch them in the coutry side, but it’s horrible to share the roads with them in urban territory. They’re just like an bee-hive. I passed a couple more cities before a more then 200km strech of plains and desert lies south. I checked the map again and found another road, less direct, but for parts following the ocean at Sechura bay.

    slow and fast living is in Peru just a doorstep away

One and half day of riding, a car stopped and asked me were the hell I was heading to. I showed it on the map. The guy took a pen and drew a huge lake just filling half of the desert. He said - El Niño! The desert is flooded and the road washed away. I was screwd, but the three guys were so lovely to drive me about 200km around the flooded area. How nice was that! One of the guys, Hugo, he was a road building engineer and may be he was shy to show me how disastrous poor some roads were. Anyways, engineers help each other he said and left.

    sand dunes warning but water flooding

Just a little more to come untli Trujillo. For example the "Señor de Sipan". It was in the late 80’s, when some archeologist found the biggest gold treasure ever dug out in south america. It was the tomb of Sipan and 14 others. In Lambayeque is now a super well done museum and much of the gold jewellery to see. It’s terrific, how the Mochica culture 1500 years ago could made such gold fine arts.

Trujillo came too fast to close and I wanted to take another exhausting adventure trip into the mountains. I rode within 3 days above 3000m on rugged mountain roads, slept one last night in thin air and went back down into the desert again. This mountain excursion went so quick, it felt like a movie fast rewinded of all the moutains I’ve ridden in Colombia and Ecuador. And on it’s beginning, I was back in Mocoa facing the green mountain wall of the Andes the first time. The only difference between there and the strech here, between Chilete and Cascas was the semidry landscape and no traffic at all - well, two cars in 6 hours. My second back tire didn’t like this side trip much and a big bubble was building up. Back at the sea in Huanchaco, just 10km before Trujillo and a can see the innertube coming through. It’s possible, everything comes to an end on the last day of riding with a big blast.

     a last time back into the mountains, when I saw the Trujillo sign

Keep up, keep up - my good dear friend! That’s how I pet my bike now. You’ve done a great job and sometimes by night, I cook my meal in front of the tent, watch my bike and just think, unbelievable by all that pain I sent you through, you never cracked down. Just a stiff neck on the last couple of kilometers, but it’s fine, I give you an extra amount of good grease for you bearing neck (head set) ones we get back to Montreal.

I reached Peru 2nd of April after 9474km. 990km were done in Ecuador…

I arrived in Ecuador the day before spring arrives. But, so far for this winter, I’ve seen first time snow. It’s still hight up though, but I’m coming closer…

 arrived in Ecuador

After all that border time wasting for immigration, I didn’t have time left to do much the first day. I went to San Gabriel, the second town in the northern province. I had to go up for 20km, even though I was already almost 3000m up. Well, it helps for my condition, because the Panamericana through the Andes is a permanent up and down. I spent a week always being between 2500 - 3000m. In between, huge cañons, with high speed up to 80km/h down and low speed of 7km/h up. The runs are always about 20 - 40km long.

 cañon before Ibarra splits my way

My first town of interest was Otavalo. The Otavalo indigenous people made their town to a real tourist attraction, because of their colorful waving products. The biggest market of Ecuador takes place every Saturday right here. So, I arrived Friday right on time to check this out. There was lots of action this weekend anyways, because of easter. A big Friday Easter celebration was held at Otavalos streets. Thousends of people lined the streets and watched the parade.

     church at Easter Friday and central square of Otavalo

I got up early the next day for the market. I didn’t want to get jamed in between all the tourist who arrive with busses from Quito just before noon. So, 7 o’clock was a good morning hour to wander around. I could have spend a fair amount of money for some products, but carrying by bike - no way.

       at the fruit market and…

       …the textile one

Instead, I rode towards the equator and was happy to reach this destination by bike ones in my live. The sun will shine in my back from now on. Well, right now it’s more likely the top. But it doesn’t burn too bad, because of my elevation and the cloudy sky. Through the next cañon and ones more up of about 2900m and I reached Quito, the capital. The city is located on the eastern flank of some volcanos in a high valley. It’s perfect for all the smog which can’t escape like Mexico city. Two entire days in the city was fine to me to get an overfew. But the best overfew, going up to 4000m with a cable car, I missed.

                         8686km until the equator and just a few more ’til Quito

Further I rode through the heartland of the "Avenida de los Volcanes", with giants like Antisana (5758m), Cotopaxi (5897m), Tungurahua (5023m), Altar (5319m) to my left and Corazon (4788m), Iliniza (5263m), Carihuairazo (5020m) and last but not least the 20703ft/6310m monster Chimborazo. And this list shows just a few of those giants who strech along the 200km from Quito towards Riobamba in the south. I rode over passes up to 3600m, but it was easy, because the ascending slope was always moderate. And the downhills were amazing on smooth pavement with wide shoulders.

         beautiful landscape above 3000m, just the volcanos aren’t to see

I got to Riobamba after two days. The vulcanos were mostly covered by clouds, but sometimes, even short, I could see the summits. Especially Tungurahua had a nice look throughout the streets of Riobamba. This volcano is the smogmaster of the region, a super active guy, this 5000m giant! I had to do a job in Riobamba. I needed to find some climbing equipment and a mountain guide plus a little more acclimatization, because Riobamba is with just below 3000m not high enough for me. This Chimborazo volcano with it’s 20703 feet hit me and I wanted to know if I could climb in such hights. I found a good climbing shop with gear and guide and left after one night in town for bigger hights. The shop suggested me, riding up to Casa Condor, at the small mountain village of San Pablo (3840m). There is a bunch of hikes available, I could go on, if I’ve got the power after riding 1000m in elevation. I was there by 2.30 and at 3pm on the trail to some woods in 4300m hight. I went on such nice paramo hike, I felt like being in Sweden. Just the snow was missing and I could have done a nice fjeld ski tour. But the scandinavian fjelt is just 1000m hight, here, close to the equator, you gotta go at least up to 4500m for snow.

   San Pablo, a high montain village at the base of Chimborazo…

       …where woman take care of keeping sheep and lama

That was my plan and I got picked up by by mountain guide the next morning. We drove by car a high as possible, to the second last hut at 4850m. Another short walk brought us up to the ultimate last hut at 5000m, just below the rock and ice massive of Chimborazo. We slept here by freshly 0 degrees. I couldn’t sleep, not so much because of cold, more likely because of high altitude and excitement! I waited in bed 4 hours and got up 11pm to get ready for the midnight climb. There were 4 other groups beside me and my guide. I tought a last time about all the grave rocks I saw yesterday and kept on walking very slow behind my guide. The night was super beautiful, no wind, not too cold and the stars were out. We had to take an advenced trail, because of avalanche danger. That was the best part and I loved to use the ice axe for real and being totally secured on rope and harness. The difficult part tooks 2 hours, 3 hours since the hut. I could see some lights at the hut, so much further down. I asked for our hight. Raul, my guide, said 5400m. Damn it, just 400m done, I thought we were much higher. We left two other groups behind us and their head lamp lights got smaller and smaller. Out of two groups who went the danger avalanche route, only one got up the ridge just before up. All other groups turned around earlier or later. As we went, I needed more and more breaks. My pulse beat seemed to go out of controll. I stopped, took some deep breaths, but after ten or so steps, same thing happens. Men, it’s a different world I experianced in such extreme hights. The moon came up and gave us more light. I could just sink into the snow and enjoy the scene…, but Raul, he pulled the rope and reminded me on my mission. The last 1000 feet were totally exhausting. I couldn’t believe, how possible to put one foot ahead the other. It was 6.30am and Raul said, it’s not far anymore. Shortly after, the ascent slope decreased and I thought we were up. But nothing to see of those two others who were ahead of us. Raul asked me if I were alright. I gave him a thumb up, too weak to speak much. And now I saw, it wasn’t the top, we had to go down a bit to get up the the very end. For moments I thought, what ever, but my good guide pulled on the rope again and brought me up. It was exactly 6.51am. Exactly 9000km riding, 6 hours and 51 minutes climbing to the highest pleasure in my live and, of course, of the entire bike trip since I left Mexico. Some other facts; with it’s 20703ft., I was on top of the most furthest place on earth you can get, if you take the center of earth as a measure, not the sea level. So, Chimborazo is not just some mountain, it’s a mountain who brought me on the edge of my human power and showed me how far my condition reaches.

     on the way and on top of Chimborazo (20703ft.)

We sat there for 20 min. I got back up on my legs, puked and went down for two hours. It was time to drop all the nice warm gear and say good bye to Raul. The 4 degrees back at the hut went on my bones and I decided riding my bike down the paramo to some warmer regions. So, I quit the street of the volcanos and went down towards the western side 4000m in elevation, since the top.

   just a few hours after the top…

The last days and kilometers to Peru were going through flat lands. It feels good, just flat, no rollercoasters anymore. And the landscape wasn’t boring either. Half of the way towards Peru was flooded and rice fields were everywhere. Interesting I thought were the towns, build sometimes entirely on stilts. So, I didn’t have to think were to put my tent. There wasn’t any place and I stayed in Hotels. The other half of the way until Peru were fields or plantations of starting with sugar cane, fading to cacao and turning into banana. I rode for about 150km just through banana plantations. I swear, I’ve never seen and ate so much bananas in my live. Normally it’s difficult to find ripe bananas, because they always get harvested green. But sometimes the plant collapse under the weight of their own fruits and has time to ripe on the ground and gives me 40 nice bananas in one shot. Good appetite!

       in tropical heat, between rice fields and banana farms