Bike-packing Peru: The Road to Arequipa

Back in Chivay, we ate a second breakfast, got our provisions and spent a bit of time online. About to leave, we bumped into Pedro, whom we’d missed while in town several days earlier. Owner of the hostel where we’d stayed, an acclaimed tour guide and a really nice guy, he gave us plenty of advice for the trip to Arequipa, a city of nearly a million people.

Having discussed the route with friends in Ollantaytambo a couple weeks earlier, we prepared our selves for two days of moderate riding before the final day which would see us summit a 16,000’+ pass. Little did we know and little did our map tell us that we had it all backwards.

A few kilometers outside of Chivay, the southbound road began to snake and switch-back it’s way up and up. As I rounded each corner, I was sure I’d see the top of this little hill. I didn’t. Each turn was followed by another.

Sitting at road’s side, Reilly and Kimberly caught up to me; her legs were zapped of energy and she was having a tough day. No matter, we thought, the summit must be around that next corner. It wasn’t.

After a few hours inching our way along, we did finally reach the mountain’s peak. Although, the plain that greeted us made it seem rather anticlimactic. Atop that great hill, the temperature plummeted and the head-wind soared. It was now all three of us who suffered.

Stopping to add as much clothing as possible, we spied a little sign painted on a rock; 4910 was all it read. Next to it was a very macabre-looking witch built of rock, replete with broom, pointy hat and flowing black cape. It gave me a chill greater than the cold wind that ripped through me.

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With the winds settled, we ate dinner and made for bed. I was wearing nearly every piece of clothing I had, including three pairs of socks and my camp shoes inside my sleeping bag. I still slept poorly.

The next morning we woke to find our tents covered in frozen dew. Back on the bikes we meandered our way towards a major intersection some 50kms away. One road lead south to Arequipa, the other turned left and went east towards Puno. We, however, would take neither.

Instead, after purchasing food and chatting with the police officers at this dirty little truck stop, we ducked under a gate and began riding the deserted dirt road towards Arequipa; again, against the wind for another couple of hours.

Setting camp between the volcano El Misti and Mount Chachani, we soon realized that the pass of the day before was THE pass we thought we were riding towards! It came just outside of Chivay, not Arequipa as we thought! With a big sigh of relief, we enjoyed the spectacular sunset and made for bed.

The next morning, we got ready at a leisurely pace, knowing we had little to fear from that day’s riding. After a few little rollers, we enjoyed a ninety minute dirt road descent before the pavement that brought us to the bustling city of Arequipa.