Apologies for not having published a blog for 9 days – this expedition has been full on and exhausting, with a lot of highlights and tough times. Before I launch into writing about my journey across the Anne Beadell Highway, I think it is important to give some background of how it came to being and why it is there.

Len Beadell was an army surveyor and an explorer who, after the Second World War, was employed by the Australian-British government alliance, initially to select and map out the area and military township of Woomera (1947), choose the line of fire for a rocket range from the launch pads he also positioned, northwest across the country to Eighty Mile Beach on the Pilbara Coast (between Port Hedland and Broome). The rockets needed to be tested over land rather than water so scientists could accurately measure their experiments. 

In 1952, he was asked to find a site to make the first atomic tests for the British government on the Australian mainland, He again selected and surveyed the site as well an airfield. He then built an access track (1953) from Mabel Downs Station near Coober Pedy across the desert to the site he called Emu (due to the emu footprints on the clay pan that was to become the airfield.) This was a top secret mission and all of the heavy equipment and building materials were transported across the desert, along the track. 

Len, along with his Gunbarrel Road Construction Party went on to build more than 6000km of tracks, particularly in the then inaccessible regions in Western Australia, South Australia and the Northern Territory. The tracks, primarily built by pushing a bulldozer and a grader through the desert, were initially constructed to enable the scientists to access these roadless areas within the rocket range. The long term legacy is that these regions were opened up for people to explore the country for the first time and they facilitated connections with Aboriginal cultures living across Australia’s vast interior.

In the late 1950s and early 1960s, Len extended the track he built to access the atomic test site at Emu to connect Coober Pedy to Laverton in Western Australia and named the 1350km track after his wife, Anne Beadell. While it is called a highway, it is nothing of the sort. Rather, it is one of the roughest long distance tracks in the country with a fearsome reputation for destroying vehicles on its continuous deep corrugations. As I set off from Coober Pedy, delighted to be back on the road, I also wondered how the conditions would affect my bicycle, and me!

DAY 51 | COOBER PEDY TO TALLARINGA CONSERVATION PARK | 70 KM

Out of Coober Pedy I pedalled north for about three kilometres on the Stuart Highway before turning on to the Mabel Creek Road, a reasonable quality gravel road. It was a relief to be finally on the road and heading west. After about 15km, the opal mining mullocks petered out and I was pushing across grassy slowly undulating country with the aid of a light tailwind. 

To my surprise, I encountered six pristine-looking tourist buses travelling towards Coober Pedy. I was heading into the remote Great Victoria Desert and I could not work out where the busloads of people were coming from. It all made sense when, after 39km, I spotted the new Ghan train stationary on the Trans-Continental Railway Line, about a kilometre away from the road. The buses were loaded with Ghan travellers who were off to Coober Pedy on a day trip. I cycled up to the train and struck a great conversation with one of the train drivers, Terry Smith. The staff had a seven-hour wait until the clients returned. I felt tiny up against the train. 

The 26 carriages gleamed in the sunshine as I crossed the tracks and set off towards Mabel Creek Station and the start of the Anne Beadell Highway about 7km from the rail crossing.

Setting off along the Anne Beadell, it felt pretty tame compared to its rugged reputation because the owner of Mabel Creek Station had graded the road that crossed his land. The bush was verdant, blooming with sprays of yellow and white flowers – hardly a parched, dusty outback track? 

About 15km from the Tallaringa Conservation Park fence line, the graded road ended and the surface was appalling! My speed dropped dramatically as there was not even a narrow strip of track that was void of corrugations. At last light I caught the team who had set up camp beside the eastern gate into the Tallaringa Conservation Park. It was great to be enjoying another bush camp beside a crackling campfire.

DAYS 52 + 53 | TALLARINGY CONSERVATION PARK – EMU | 100 KM + 82 KM

After entering through the eastern gate of Tallaringa, I set off along the fence line of the conservation park. I had been pretty worried about the state of the road the previous evening – it was rough but I started to read the tracks and make better decisions. My fatbike was worth its weight in gold on the sandy, corrugated road and I was often able to “float” over the sandy centre strip of the road to avoid many corrugated sections.

I could not have done this with a standard MTB – the wider tyres really made a difference in these challenging track conditions. The daily average speed was still 14.3km per hour, faster than I expected on these surfaces and I was able to exceed expectations by cycling another 100km day, pushing 12km west of Tallaringa Conservation Park and into Maralinga Lands.

I started to cross a series of steep sand dunes where the maximum gradient was around 14%. The corrugations were terrible but every so often there were short diversion tracks that gave at least some relief. Our gear in the trailer was the real casualty – unopened milk cartons wore through and leaked, tins compounded into each other, destroying the contents, bags wore through and don’t mention the eggs! Twice we had to clean and rearrange our food and gear, wasting valuable riding time. 

After 62km we came to the turn off to where the British, in 1953, detonated the first two atomic bombs on the Australian mainland – Totem I and Totem II. The site was selected by Len Beadell because it was a desolate expanse with little tree cover and they said, no one lived there. The explosions occurred from 100ft towers, vaporising / melting everything around – melting the metal towers, liquifying the sand and causing shockwave ripples in the ground. It was an interesting place to visit, but not necessarily a part of Australia’s history I am proud of. 

DAY 54 | TO ANNE’S CORNER + 15 KM | 71 KM

Two kilometres from where we camped, I reached Emu Fields. The airstrip and again, all sites were selected and surveyed by Len Beadell. There isn’t much to see at all now. There is some rusting metal but much was cleared away soon after the nuclear experiments occurred – the whole mission was top secret and the evidence was largely destroyed. The aerodrome on Emu clay pan was identifiable but the townsite where all the scientists (Australian and British) and officials would have lived had only some foundations left. 

This ended up being a tough day at the office! It was much hotter and I struggled through the sand hill country. There was a strong, gusting headwind too, which made it harder to keep upright and on the sand! 

I toiled through the heat of the day and, leaving my long sleeved cycling jacket on to protect my arms from the sun, cooked myself. I could not find any energy and whatever I did, I felt hot and exhausted. I was trying to reach my planned 90km a day average – the distance I needed to do to reach Tjuntjuntjara on time.  Martin helped convince me to stop after only 71km so I didn’t push too far into the red. I rehydrated and sat quietly for a while.

The post Breaking the Cycle Across Australia #11: Anne Beadell Highway – part 1 appeared first on overland-europe.

I apologise for not sending a blog sooner but we have been having trouble with the satellite communications device for now. To see where the places I mention are, please check the tracking map: https://kateleeming.maprogress.com/andes_altiplano_atacama

EL ALTO – TIAWANAKU | DAYS 1 & 2 | 109 KM

I set off from El Alto, a large satellite town of La Paz, rejoining the line of my 2020 journey. Rather than take the national highway, I chose to go via the industrial town of Viacha, about 25km away from El Alto. I set off into heavy traffic, direction – Tiawanaku. After Viacha, the traffic finally eased. From there the road bisected fertile green fields with chains of mountains visible in the distance to the east and west. The highlight of my day’s ride was a 20km route along a gravel road that tracked a disused railway line. The line was used to export/import produce and goods between Bolivia and Peru. Reza, the producer, had me cycle a short distance along the railway as a way of remembering my Trans-Siberian Cycle expedition ( where we had to follow the Trans-Siberian railway for 1500km).

I rode past Tiawanaku to get some extra distance done, taking in Lake Titicaca’s peaceful southern shoreline.

Day 2 and it is Festival season right across Bolivia and most of South America. We were invited by Elena Quispe (Cholita Escaladoras – more later) and her husband, Carlos to a traditional celebration near the northeast shore of Lake Titicaca. It required a five hour drive each way from Tiawanaku, but it was an opportunity we couldn’t miss. The remote village, Taypi Ayco is located in a valley set aside by the government to allow the local people to practice their traditional culture. The villagers arrived at the football field in a colourful procession and proceeded to dance and play music for about three hours.

We were their guests and I was quickly pulled in to the dance party. Vast quantities of alcohol were consumed, mostly beer, but towards the end, a selection of home made spirits and even moonshine (100% proof alcohol) were consumed. It was a fun afternoon. It was midnight by the time we returned to Tiawanaku. Rolando, our driver, was exhausted.

Tiawanaku is home to Bolivia’s most important archeological site. After gaining permission from the director of the site to film, we spent a couple of hours with a guide learning about the pre-Incan culture.

The Tiawanaku people inhabited the Altiplano region around Lake Titicaca from about 2000 BC to 1000AD.  Tiawanaku city, the political and spiritual capital of the powerful empire, existed between 500 and 1000 AD; its population swelled to an estimated 30,000 at its peak in 800 AD. Religious beliefs centred around the importance of the lake and the two sacred mountains that flank Tiawanaku, the main drivers of the weather systems and subsequently, the fertility of the region. Rituals and offerings of maize, animals and even human sacrifice were made to appease the Gods in the hope they would bring prosperity. Tiwanaku was built with highly-sophisticated engineering, astronomical understanding and aqueducts.

One of the many unsolved mysteries of Tiawanaku is what caused its downfall. Many hypothesise that it was due to a prolonged, severe drought and the unrest that followed that caused the community to break down and disperse, and the empire to fade into history. As the Incas rose to prominence a couple of centuries later, they used the site and incorporated some of the Tiwanaku religious beliefs into Incan culture. Today, the Tiwanaku archeological site is still a place of political importance, as well as a significant cultural and religious site for the indigenous Aymara people of Bolivia.

TIAWANAKU TO CHARANA | DAYS 4 & 5

The journey continued from mid-afternoon, rejoining the cycle journey turning south from Lake Titicaca. After a small climb, I entered a vast open fertile plain, with mountains to the west and east. For about 30km, the road ran adjacent to the last remnants of the lake.

The unsealed road rose about 150m above the Titicaca floodplain to St Andre and this was the end of the flat land. Continuing south I was passing through some vast landscapes dotted with mesas and buttes. The road was pretty rough.

CHARANA TO SAJAMA VILLAGE | DAYS 6 & 7

The next few days were more simple, with the landscapes constantly changing, but always intriguing. The second day from Tiawanaku, we came across another festival in Achiri before turning onto a major through route. Being a highway, I thought it would be sealed, but it was a gravel road. Two passes to almost 4300m really tested me – not fully acclimatised yet. The terrain was pretty mountainous and the regular steep ascents of up to 13% gradient really knocked me around. With only around 12.5% oxygen in the atmosphere, it’s not just the climb, but the ability to recover that makes it tough, day after day.

Here’s a pictorial representation of the last four days…

We still haven’t solved the BGAN problem, so I am finishing off this blog hurriedly at the Bolivian/Chile border. We have come to a bit of a road block and the current situation is that we cannot cross the border as planned. I have a Plan C, but it isn’t ideal because we will miss out on some important stories I have planned for the expedition. The current word from the officials is that we would have to fly to Iquique and then up to the border with a hire car. That isn’t practical. We are now going through a few options with the Chilean consulate in La Paz.

CAN YOU HELP?

All of these complications are very costly and threatening our ability to complete the expedition successfully. I can accept donations via this link or you can contact me for further details. (Thank you to those who have generously supported already).

The post Breaking the Cycle update: Cycling straight into the Andean culture, past and present appeared first on overland-europe.

Exactly two years ago, I arrived in Cusco, Peru, ready to begin my South American altitude cycling expedition, The Andes, the Altiplano and the Atacama. The plan was to pedal a winding 3500km path from Cusco, Peru to Ojos del Salado, the world’s highest volcano, that straddles the Argentinian and Chilean borders.

Spanning over 7000km, the Andes is the longest mountain chain on the planet and boasts some of the highest peaks. The range also has the world’s highest volcanoes. Ojos del Salado is the world’s highest, measuring 6,893m, and there are more than 50 volcanoes that reach 6,000m.

The word altiplano means “high plain” in Spanish. The Altiplano is the area in west central South America where the Andes are the widest. The bulk of the Altiplano lies in Bolivia, with its northern and western fringes extending into Peru and Chile respectively. The average altitude of the Altiplano is 3750m.

The Altiplano merges with the Puna de Atacama (Atacama Desert high plateau) region of northern Argentina, Chile and southern Bolivia. It is the highest, driest desert on Earth.

In 2020, I pedalled up and out of Cusco (3500m) to Ollantaytambo, visited Machu Picchu, then continued down the Sacred Valley before turning into the more remote southern Peruvian Highlands, then around the east side of Lake Titicaca to La Paz. From there I descended Death Road and into the South Yungas. This was taking place as the COVID-19 pandemic swept the world and I had to make the painful decision to postpone the journey.

Returning to La Paz, Chris Pennington and I managed to escape Bolivia on the last commercial flight before the borders closed. Rolando, the support vehicle driver, was a hero driving us to the airport during a curfew.

This teaser video, made by Chris, gives a good taste of the 1100km journey.

Last November, when it was evident Australia’s borders would finally reopen and it was looking possible to travel through Bolivia, Chile and Argentina, I wasted no time in making plans to continue the expedition from where I left off – La Paz.

A few things have developed since 2020. The physical plan is still similar – to finish at Ojos del Salado – but the route has evolved to create, what I believe will be, a more engaging story. It has now morphed into a 5000km altitude journey (inclusive of the 1100km already completed), testing my limits cycling up some of the highest volcanoes on Earth. I know this journey will be on the edge of my capabilities.

The story of the journey, however, will be more than an exploration of my physical and mental limits and the positive mindset I must adopt to succeed. It is going be infused with insights about Andean cultures, past and present, focusing on what the mountains mean to the people.

For the people of the Andes, the mountains have always presided over their world. Mountain worship was the keystone of ancient Andean cultures. The mountains were venerated primarily because they controlled the climate and water sources and as a result, the fertility of crops and animals, communities and empires.

I plan to investigate some of their beliefs, particularly those related to the mountains I explore, and the innovations and adaptations the Andeans have made to overcome their challenges and improve their lives.

I hope to find out whether there are lessons to be learnt from Incan and other Andean cultures that can be related to some of the issues confronting our global community today, such as climate change, sustainable consumption, gender equality and the need to preserve and work with our environment, not against it.

Due to the success of my TV series, Diamonds in the Sand, my team and I are in a much better position to create another series and film. With me this time is executive producer, Reza Pakravan (A-OK Media House, London), and Toby Nash (Graduate of Dulwich College Singapore’s IB programme and University College London psychology undergraduate, aspiring adventure filmmaker and Spanish speaker). Also playing integral roles in the expedition are our driver, Rolando Zarate and Peruvian filmmaker, Javier Bellina (who filmed the Peru section of my journey in 2020). Reza is with us for two weeks and will be replaced by Javier for the last six weeks.

Organising this expedition hasn’t got easier – there are so many moving parts and many uncertainties due to the changing situations brought on by the pandemic. 

Another exciting partnership I now have is with 2DegreesC a start-up not-for-profit organisation committed to helping to mitigate the climate emergency. As an ambassador, I will be carrying special climate sensors on my bike that, through an app they have developed, I’ll be able to collect and send the scientific-quality data to its global data base. The data is important to help equip scientists, conservationists and other organisations to make the best informed decisions for the health of our planet. www.2DegreesC.Org

Education is again at the forefront of my objectives and I welcome the participation of schools around the world, particularly from EiM (Education in Motion), led by Dulwich College Singapore.

The cycling app FulGaz is another partner. I will be filming segments of the journey from the handlebars for FulGaz to convert into indoor training rides – to give those who don’t have the time to cycle in the Andes to at least get a feel for what the experience is like. https://fulgaz.com/about-fulgaz/

I want this journey to be symbolic of getting back out there post-pandemic, mending some of the mental scars, escaping the depressing Covid-19 news cycle and raising spirits with positive, inspiring real life (not virtual) stories.

GETTING THERE

The flight from Melbourne to La Paz was an horrific 42 hours via LA, Miami and Bogota. There still aren’t many flights available to many parts of the world and so the route I had to take was not well-connected. One part that did connect was meeting my two British team mates, Reza and Toby in Bogota before we took the same plane to La Paz. Together we had a huge amount of luggage, including my bike, which somehow all arrived in the same place.

Our ever-reliable driver, Rolando was waiting patiently to meet us – customs held us back and checked everything! We returned to the Hotel Boutique El Consulado, where Chris and I last stayed before escaping in 2020.

We have three days here to get ready to leave on 28th February. There’s plenty to do to prepare and sort out a few more logistical complications, but we did spend time to explore the city on foot to help acclimatise to the altitude (3650m) and see some of the sights.

FOLLOW MY PROGRESS IN REAL TIME

Maprogress at: https://kateleeming.maprogress.com/andes_altiplano_atacama

SPONSORS

This time I have managed to gain the generous support of 22 different product sponsors, as you will see on the email slide. Myself and the team sincerely thanks these sponsors.

CAN YOU HELP?

And finally, while I have many product sponsors, finding the funding for this expedition has proved to be very challenging. I am around $42K short and currently having to fund the journey and filmmaking myself. If you enjoy following my journeys, I would really appreciate your support please. I can accept donations in via this link or you can contact me for further details.

The post Breaking the Cycle update: The Andes, the Altiplano and the Atacama 2022 appeared first on overland-europe.

This is the last blog for the time being. It has been a long time coming because I have had to postpone the last two-thirds of the expedition until the COVID-19 virus is under control.

DAYS 13 & 14 | LA PAZ

One of the best things Chris and I did in La Paz was take a ride on the amazing public cable car transport system. It has only been up and running for about two years, but what a fantastic way to get to work – beats the tram, bus and underground systems around the world! The steep, narrow, cobbled streets are very congested with traffic and the cable car system is designed to reduce the number of cars and small taxi busses on the roads. The flip side is that when the cable cars were introduced, many taxi drivers were out of a job because the transition to the new system happened too fast.

For the rest of the time, Chris, myself and our new driver, Rolando, organised ourselves for the next stage of the journey, a loop into the rainforest through the South Yungas.

DAYS 15 | LA PAZ – CORIOCO | DISTANCE 108 KM | PASS 4769 M

I rejoined the line of my journey, setting off along the airport road. It was great to be back on the road again, feeling rested from the two-day break. The traffic in the outer suburbs of La Paz was still very hectic and the air horribly polluted, but I just had to ride assertively with the flow. 

I decided to take a slightly different course out of town than the usual way to Corioco. Once free of the sprawling city limits, the route proved to be a good choice. Cars were few and far between and I was able to enjoy the high, undulating landscape. After crossing a valley,  the road, which was under construction, started to ascend sharply. There were several places where small landslides had blocked or partially blocked the road. It was easy for me to carry my bike over the mud but at one stage, Rolando had to pull the shovel out and dig a path for his vehicle.

The pass was concealed in the clouds at 4769m. It was cold, rainy and the air was very low on oxygen. From there I descended about 150m to the busy Coroico – La Paz road. The road is the main artery dropping away from the Altiplano and into the rainforest. Over the next 30km, I lost 1400m of elevation. Initially, the road and mountains were totally encased in cloud. It was a virtual white-out and I switched my powerful bike headlight on for improved visibility. Rolando drove behind to give me some protection from the heavy traffic. I kept intense concentration to maintain control of my bike in the slippery conditions. Breaking through the mist, the breathtaking scale of the valley and mountains was revealed. I gradually thawed out as I descended into tropical climes. 

The main objective for the day was to cycle down Death Road. Prior to 2006, the La Paz – Coroico Road was dubbed the World’s Most Dangerous Road. It is a single-lane stoney, muddy road, that, at times is only about three metres wide. It winds its way from the 4650m Le Cumbre pass (I cycled higher on the first road I followed that morning, before it hit the Coroico Road at the pass) down to the Amazon rainforest. The North Yungas Road, as is its correct name, is cut into a deep canyon with vertical drops of about 600 metres and no side barriers. Normally in Bolivia, drivers and cyclists keep to the right-hand side of the road, but down Death Road, they must stay left, near to the edge of the cliff and give way to vehicles ascending the road.

The road was built in the 1930s by Paraguayan prisoners during the Chaco War. Until the 1990s, the road had the most dubious title of the world’s most dangerous road due to the mortality rate. It was estimated that between 200 and 300 people died each year on the road. At the end of 2006, after 20 years of construction, a new bypass road was opened. 

These days, Death Road is mostly used as a tourist attraction, especially for cyclists. The very name made me feel wary, but I was intent on enjoying the experience. There isn’t anything like the traffic that there once was and for much of the time I was able to have the road to myself. As far as I am concerned, with a good set of brakes and common sense, cycling the road is an attainable dream for an average cyclist.

In many places, waterfalls shower the path, and anyone who rides or drives it. The vibrant green tropical flora was so different from on the Altiplano – ferns, vines, tall trees and dense ground cover. Colourful butterflies and majestic birds of prey often arrested my attention. The road descended 1100m over about 30km.

I had done 98km by 6.20pm when I reached a village at the base of the climb. The aim for the day was to make Corioco, an important trading town for the surrounding coffee and coca growers. The town, however, lay on the top of a steep hill, a 9km climb from the bottom of the valley. I knew this would mean I would arrive in the dark but wanted to see if I could reach the destination. The first 4.5km was on a quality paved road, but just as darkness set in, I hit the cobblestones. This was a massive test – the last 4.5km on uneven cobblestones up a steep incline, riding by the vehicle headlights. The road was pretty busy and I struggled to keep the bike on the road and the pedals turning. I made it by about 8pm.

DAYS 16 | CORIOCO – CHULUMANI | DISTANCE 63 KM

From Coroico, the road tracked the contours of the slope of the Yungas. It was generally up for 300m, then down for 300m, dipping in and out of the spectacular valleys. It was serious work, however, as I was now oscillating between 1100m and 2000m, I found it much easier to breathe and lactic acid didn’t build up in my legs as it had at the higher altitudes. I did suffer from the 90 per cent humidity though.

After our lunch break at the village of Coscoma, my Maps.ME app suggested that the fastest route was a secondary road. There was a very steep descent to a fast-flowing river but the climb that followed, about 10km that was mostly steeper than I could handle. The humidity took its toll and the black loose stones radiated more heat. I started to suffer from heat stress. I must have pushed 80 per cent of the way. I had to stop several times to cool down and take in rehydration salts.

The views were incredible. The locals used even the steepest slopes for production. Whereas I expected to see coffee being grown, as was traditionally the case, these days just about all small producers grow coca leaves for medicinal purposes, as a stimulant and for the black market. Apparently coca leaves are more lucrative than coffee.

Eventually, at a village at the top of the climb, the secondary road connected with the main road and the surface stayed reasonably level for a few kilometres. There were so many mud traps and I often found myself pedalling through a muddy soup. The bike and I were a mess. 

We ended up at Chulumani village amidst the town’s annual fair. The main square was packed with people, stalls and a traffic jam. We had difficulty finding a place to stay and there was really only fried chicken to eat for dinner, but that is often the case when travelling freely.

DAYS 17 | CHULUMANI – IRUPANA | DISTANCE 30 KM

The morning ride to Irupana was as spectacular as it comes; a muddy 5km downhill, then the same distance uphill. This route rivalled Death Road at times, it was just a bit wider and busier. I was still feeling the results of the heat stress from the previous day, so I struggled slowly at times. Irupana lies at 1900m and getting there involved another 800m climb.

Resting in the village square, the reality of the global situation regarding the COVID-19 virus struck. Argentina and Chile had closed their borders and schools were closed, so there was no way I could achieve the objectives of my journey. I found my own motivation waning because I need to work to the goals that I believe in, in order to put all of my energy into it. I was struggling mentally on this day. Chris and I reasoned the situation through. With a third of the journey completed, I decided to halt the expedition while we could easily return to La Paz.

On the five hour drive back to La Paz, we heard that Qantas was grounding its fleet and most of South America had closed its borders. Just about every hour, there was a new regulation or another restriction imposed. My travel agent, had great difficulties trying to book our return flights. By that night we had a flight reserved on the 20th. We were working to that until the Bolivian government changed the date of its airport closure from the 21st to the 19th March.

DAYS 18, 19 & 20

It has been a stressful time trying to find a way home to Australia. A curfew in La Paz was introduced yesterday between 5pm and 5am. Rolando, our driver, waited in La Paz in case we needed his help – and we certainly did. In desperation, Rolando drove us to the airport to see if we could find a flight out. The normally chaotic streets were eerily empty. There were police and military everywhere and we were afraid we would be arrested for breaking the curfew. Even the stray dogs looked baffled as to where all the traffic had gone!

A policewoman questioned us and Rolando explained that we were from the Australian consulate, heading for the airport. She let us go and Rolando did not stop for anything between there and the airport – running every red light and manoeuvring around and through barriers. 

The airport visit was fruitless, though I was able to apply for two positions on a special chartered flight to Sao Paulo in Brazil the next day. We returned to the hotel on an equally tension-filled drive. We missed the chartered flight opportunity due to high demand and felt almost resigned that we would be trapped in La Paz once the airport closed.

Our travel agent got to work once more. The only country in South America still open was Brazil, so we had to try to go through Sao Paulo. It was after midnight when an opportunity opened and Colin was able to book us both on the flights. At 3am, Rolando drove us back to the airport. We weren’t stopped this time, but were equally nervous that we could be. This time we were able to board our flight and as I write are on our way back via Santa Cruz, Sao Paulo and Dubai to Melbourne, a trip of more than 50 hours.

The post Death Road and a Temporary End to the Expedition appeared first on overland-europe.

DAY 4 | QUIUIJANA – PAMPACHIRI | DISTANCE 64 KM

I was looking forward to turning off the main highway and heading into the mountains. I enjoyed playing the tourist and visiting Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley, but now it was time to venture off the beaten track.

About 30km from Quiquijana (where we had stayed the night), I turned east at the village of Checacupe. Riding over a quaint little Inca bridge (feature image), I entered the village square, another Plaza de Armas. The name refers to Inca times when visitors to the town were expected to lay down their arms when entering the town to demonstrate that they had come in peace.

From there I steadily gained altitude, tracking beside a fast-flowing river. All the way to the next town, Pitumarca the roadside was flanked by small fields growing maize, barley, potatoes, tomatoes and much more. After Pitumarca, the paved road ended and for the rest of the journey it was a potholed dirt road. I was surprised to see groves of eucalyptus trees – Javier says they were introduced by the church many years ago. 

The higher I got, the more challenging the cycling and the more spectacular the scenery. My path wound up and down the mountainsides, passing through hamlets that weren’t even marked on my maps. In the mid-afternoon I was hit by a hail storm followed by some heavy rain. Donning my new waterproofs, shoe covers and gloves, I rode out the storm.

There seem to be a lot of dogs hanging around each village. Javier explained that only about ten or twenty percent of the dogs in Peru have owners, the rest are taken care of – at least fed – by the community who shares the responsibility. I often get chased by dogs as I pass through villages. In the late afternoon, while passing through a small community, one of these stray dogs, a Peruvian Shepherd, started following me. Unlike the rest, this one was friendly, trotting beside, behind or in front as I pedalled. It started to become protective when other dogs threatened to attack.

Our accommodation for the evening ended up being a dusty handicraft workshop owned by a family in Pampachiri hamlet (altitude – 4181m). We pitched our tents inside and cooked on the floor. There were several old Singer sewing machines, half-made woven alpaca rugs, fleeces…and a lot of rubbish and dust, but it was dry and secure.

DAY 5 | PAMPACHIRI – PHINAYA | DISTANCE 60 KM

The dog was waiting for us the next morning and followed all day, as I rode higher and higher through alpine grassland. The mountain slopes were dotted with shepherds’ stone huts and yards. Many streams cascaded over the road and I had to ride straight through, unfortunately soaking my feet. Finally, the road snaked away from the stream, the last 300metres were steep and with so little oxygen in the air, I was struggling. The pass was officially 5070m, though my watch made it 5081m.

The usual afternoon thunderstorms were threatening as I descended the a vast, open highland moor. In fact I didn’t descend much at all – the plains were at between 4700m and 4850m. The wetlands were populated by all sorts of birds and, in the hills I saw my first vicunas. Vicunas are the smallest camel species (I think – camelette). They are prized for having the finest wool, so valuable that it nearly led to its extinction. Rather than catching the animals and shearing its wool, people used to kill them to take the super-fine fibre. Now vicunas are protected by the communities. Once a year, communities band together to herd the wild vicunas and shear the wool off the chest. Some animals are still lost as a result of this process, but now the numbers are growing and vicunas have been saved from extinction.

It was a brutal day of climbing on the bike. I arrived at the planned destination, Phinaya, cold and wet. The town is a little outpost that the local government wants to develop as a climbing and trekking destination. All around are high snowcapped mountains. Just as I parked my bike beside the hotel, a local dog started sniffing around it. ‘Our dog’ however sat there guarding my bike and attacked the local dog.

The small hotel in Phinaya was very interesting – clean, some of the best local food we’d had, dirt floors. Melita, the owner, is a young woman and local entrepreneur. She won a competition run by the local government and received a $10K grant to develop her business. With community help she is now gradually developing the facilities as she can afford it. She seemed very aware of the importance of marketing, aiming to appeal to European trekking and climbing enthusiasts.

DAY 6 | ADAPTING THE ROUTE

Originally when planing this route, I had noted a bike-packing route that would enable me to reach another community (Corani District), but after Javier spoke to a local driver who knew the area, he said that a bike could get through, but not a vehicle. We had seen on one map a path through and hoped this would be possible for car and bike. Given the time restraints, I cannot afford to take longer than I have planned to make the whole expedition work. We decided to turn back and retrace our route back to the main road. From there I can rejoin the line of my journey and still make Tilali on the Peru-Bolivia border in the next four days. On this adapted route I hope to spend a bit more time around Lake Titicaca.

On the returned journey we had time to visit Rainbow Mountain, Vinicuna. Its rainbow colours are a result of mineral-rich deposits, from iron, copper, sulphur, aluminium being the main components. As an increasing number of tourists climb the 4995m to the saddle of the mountain. Just as I reached the top, the clouds rolled through before it began hailing and, worried about slipping on the wet, muddy slopes, I didn’t stay there for long.

We left our canine friend in Phinaya, however I am not worried. This dog can fend for itself. I imagine it will find its way home pretty easily.

Related posts:

Part 1: Welcome – The Andes, the Altiplano & the Atacama expedition

Part 2: Cusco to Ollantaytambo

Part 3: Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley

Part 4: Into the Peruvian Southern Highlands

Part 5: To Lake Titicaca and the Border

Part 6: Into Bolivia – unsupported

The post Breaking the Cycle: into the Peruvian southern highlands appeared first on overland-europe.

DAY 2: MACHU PICCHU

Seeing Machu Picchu had been on my bucket list for many years. Recognised as is one of the seven New Wonders of the World, it attracts hoards of tourists all year round. These days, tourists are strictly controlled and entry times are managed so that no more than 400 people can walk throught the archeological site at once.

To get there involved waking at 4am in order to catch the train at 5am. The 34 km train journey takes one and a half hours. The track, that follows a spectacular gorge beside the cascading Urubamba River. The train dropped us off at Agua Calientes and from there it was a half-hour bus ride zigzagging up the mountain to the entrance of Machu Picchu.

Machu Picchu, at 2350 metres elevation, is surrounded by dense rainforest. As expected at this time of year, there was steady early morning rain and Machu Picchu was enshrouded in the clouds. For the first couple of hours the mountains were hidden amongst the clouds and we waited patiently in the hope that we could get a clear view of Huayna Picchu, the larger mountain adjacent to Machu Picchu.

Despite the conditions, I was able to relax, even though I was extremely tired. The place has amazing power and I loved walking through the ruins, even though the my knee struggled. Javier had been to Machu Picchu about 25 times previously working of various film shoots, so he was a great source of information.

Machu Picchu was believed to be built for Pachacuti Inca Yupanqui, who reigned from 1438 – 1471. Located so deep in the forest, the Spanish invaders never made mention of the site, which was a royal retreat. It was only discovered to the outside world in 1911.

Here are a few images that I did manage to take amongst the mist:

By the time we returned to Ollantaytambo it was 3.30 in the afternoon. I had planned to cycle to Pisac, 60km alway, but decided it would take too long and I was better off resting. We drove to Pisac where I had pre-booked accommodation and returned the next day to Urubamba, where I had first entered the Sacred Valley to rejoin the line of my journey.

DAY 3: URUBAMBA TO QUIQUIJANA VILLAGE | 111 KM

The Sacred Valley was so named by the Incas because of its fertility and milder climate. The land can support the growing of three crops every year. All the way from Ollantaytambo to where I left it almost 100km to the south, the mountain slopes all the way down to the Urubamba River were terraced with plots growing all sorts of produce – potatoes, sweet potatoes, maize, tomatoes and much more. The route has many Inca ruins along it mostly for protection and agriculture.

I enjoyed pedalling along the valley and a warm, sunny day. After 71km I left the valley, climbing out of one river system and into other. Just before Urcos my quiet road joined the main highway from Cusco that eventually leads to Puno, a large city near Lake Titicaca in the south. The heavy traffic and some long climbs was a real test only second day of cycling.

A thunderstorm brewed late in the afternoon and we just made the small village called Quiquijana before the rain set in. The only accommodation in town was rudimentary, as was the food in the only restaurant that was open for business, but it didn’t matter. It had been a long day and we had a roof over our heads and safe place to park the vehicle. 

Related posts:

Part 1: Welcome – The Andes, the Altiplano & the Atacama expedition

Part 2: Cusco to Ollantaytambo

Part 3: Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley

Part 4: Into the Peruvian Southern Highlands

Part 5: To Lake Titicaca and the Border

Part 6: Into Bolivia – unsupported

The post Breaking the Cycle: Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley appeared first on overland-europe.

After spending two days in Cusco preparing for the journey ahead, I thought Javier, my camera operator and support driver for the Peruvian section of the expedition, were well-organised. However, by the time we’d filmed a few scenes around the city centre, packed, picked up the hire car and set off it was already 10.30am.

The city was built long before there was a need for streets and, as a result, the city centre is a maze of narrow one-way cobblestone streets – very charming to walk around, but a nightmare for vehicles. Our B&B was on one of these narrow streets, so to load the vehicle, Javier had to stop the car in the lane and we loaded as quickly as possible while the traffic built up behind us. He then had to move on while I had to wait for the traffic to clear before I could start.

We both had the route marked on our maps, but when I turned into the street, Javier had been forced to move on. I continued on the agreed route, having lost Javier and assumed we would soon meet up once we’d navigated the laneways.

The only way out of Cusco is up and in chaotic traffic. Starting at around 3,350m elevation on the cobbles, it was a lung-busting start. I continued but regularly stopped to check my route and wondered where Javier was. The GPS on my SPOT tracker did not seem to be registering. I continued, up and up, winding through the outer suburbs. By the time we found each other – thank goodness for WhatsApp – we’d lost almost two hours. Javier’s pick-up couldn’t fit through one of the narrow streets. He then had got stuck with the one-way systems and inaccurate maps.

The episode was a wake-up call that we had to ensure our communication systems worked a little better. We kept together for the remainder of the day and stuck to the less-direct main route rather than taking the quieter bicycle route.

Out of the city, I had another 6km climb up to Chinchero (3808m) before gradually dropping through beautiful verdant green mountains, lakes and agricultural land. Due to the slow start, we had to keep moving for the rest of the day to get to Ollantaytambo before dark.

Although the climbs were intense, I reaped the rewards on the level ground and downhills – I could hardly believe the scale and beauty of this dramatic, fertile landscape.

By the time I arrived at our destination, Ollantaytambo, the altitude had dropped down to 2800m. As the town is the point where people can take the train to Machu Picchu, and it has adjacent to another Inca archeological site, the beautiful town is buzzing with tourists, mostly travelling to and from one of the seven New Wonders of the World.

Day 1 was incredible eventful but totally rewarding. I was pleased that we made it in good time (once we got going) and excited to be visiting Machu Picchu, a place I have dreamed of visiting for a long time.

RELATED POSTS

Part 1: Welcome – The Andes, the Altiplano & the Atacama expedition

Part 2: Cusco to Ollantaytambo

Part 3: Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley

Part 4: Into the Peruvian Southern Highlands

Part 5: To Lake Titicaca and the Border

Part 6: Into Bolivia – unsupported

Breaking the Cycle Education

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