10,000ft is the new sea level.

Quick Stats
1000 km of travel by bike thus far!
Flat tires ~ Justin 2, Melissa 2
Intestinal Infections ~ Justin 3, Melissa 2
14,000 ft plus passes ~ 4

 When we first arrived in Huanaco, we struggled to get our bearings.  Riding our bicycles, dodging taxis, and horns in every direction, we asked locals to point us towards the town´s center so we could find ourselves on our lonely planet copied map of the town.  Justin, frustrated at the situation, yelled to me while we rode, ¨It feels like I am looking at the wrong city!!¨

He finally asked a police officer to help us and lo and behold… the officer pointed out, ¨This map is of Huancayo, not Huanaco!¨

Well we are excited to announce we´ve made it to Huancayo, the third largest city in Peru and home to a Pizza Hut.  The map works beautifully here.  The trip to get here was much longer than planned but it was sprinkled with new friendships and unparalleled kindness.

~Family in Huariaca~

Our Second day out of Huanaco, we decided to stop early for the day as Justin was still getting his bearings after another intestinal showdown.  In a town that took me five days to figure out how to pronounce (Wahr-e-a-ka), we saw a pretty, yellow hostal a street down from the main drag and decided to take our chances.

I found myself needing to go to the bathroom every few minutes after dinner, and by the next morning, I could hardly move from my bed.  We upgraded to a room with a bathroom, and there I stayed for three nights (Justin even bought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers!!).  Although cursed with an intestinal infection, I was blessed to immerse myself in the loving community of Huariaca.  News of a sick Gringa spread fast and soon there was an angel, Rosa, at our doorstep with tea to help my stomach (little did I know it would clean out gunk in my intestines from back in my teens!).  Rosa and her husband, Ricardo, who run the hostal Rosa Nautica, became increasingly concerned with my condition, and brought me soup and tea daily. 

On the third morning, still lousy, Justin decided it was time to visit a clinica.  We walked in the early monrnig fog to the clinic´s door and immediately I was sketched out by the smelling bathroom and blood stains on the floors and chairs.  Our stay there did not last long and when we arrived back at our hostal,  Ricardo saw the tears swelling up in my eyes.

Minutes later, his sister Matrisa knocked at our door.  A nurse at the local hospital,  she immediately went to work fixing me back to normal! She even brought food for Justin as she worried about our tiny appetites.  On our last day in Huariaca,  Matrisa made us a delicious lunch at her home and we learned more about her family and life in Peru.  We were so blessed to have met Rosa, Ricardo, and Matrissa who helped us in our vulnerable time of need.

~The Aussie Gals!~

After a delicious, filling lunch at Matrisa´s, we rolled our bellies back to the hostal to finally pack and get moving again.  When we arrived, we were shocked to find two Gringas there! Growing up in a melting pot of cultures in California, it is funny to me how shocked every person is here to see someone who is white.  I laughed at myself when I realized I probably made the same face as most Peruvians when seeing the two Aussie girls. 

We immediately hit it off chatting about life on the road.  Megan and Jules are also riding their bicycles – they have been for 15 months.  Their travels started in Alaska, and by the time they made it to Vancouver, they decided to get married before continuing on through North, Central, and South America!  We all packed our gear on Tuesday morning and set off together on another 5,000 ft climb to a 14,500 ft pass.  We loved sharing stories, us from the trail and them, from the past year on bicycles.  Unfortunately I was still struggling with my illness and could hardly stomach even a saltine cracker.  Climbing in altitude was not helping my cause either.  I dug pretty darn deep to keep climbing, and the Aussies were great motivators.  Around 6pm, as the sun waved goodnight along the mountainous horizon,  we found ourselves high on an altiplano, in the extreme cold.  To camp or find a hostal (there is no question mark on this keyboard!). Justin asked a family in the small truck stop town we found ourselves in where a hostal may possibly be.  There was none.  It was cold.  And we needed to make a decision fast.

A woman came running from a home and invited us to sleep in the upstairs of her house.  She said it was way too cold to camp, and while we all knew we had the gear to do it, we felt no reason to decline the invitation – especially myself who was running on an empty stomach and feeling quite ill.  We had a fun slumber party, with even extra mattresses to sleep on, before falling asleep for the night.  My stomach would not stop gurgling, my nose continued to drip, and I fond myself tousing and turning until the sun rose the next morning.  Did I even sleep (again no question mark).

We rolled along the altiplano Wednesday together,  admiring the Alpaca and llamas, desolate atmosphere, large lake in the distance, and small towns.  Justin and I still did not still feel quite right so when we arrived in the town of Jugnin and hung out while Megs changed a flat, we decided to take it easy and stop early for the day.  In Huaraz, we met a gentleman by the name of Brian who works for the Peace Corps at a nice cafe.  He told us he had a friend who could show us around Junin and connected us through email.  Fortunately, we saved Reilly´s number and called her along the main drag of Junin.  She was less than a block away and was our savior for the evening.

%Melissa%

 ~Peace Corps Friends~

The beauty of cycling is that we get to enjoy the culture at a much more controlled pace, inviting us to enjoy richer encounters with locals.  In Junin we managed to square up with a Peace Corps volunteer named Reilly. Reilly was recommended to us by another volunteer, Brian, in a coffee shop in Huaraz.  Reilly just completed her first year living and teaching in the Central Highlands at just over 13,000 ft.  She lives with a host family and opened up her floor space for us.  We enjoyed the English conversation, as well as the Jiff peanut butter her family had recently left with her when they came to visit.  While spending the afternoon in search of some food in Junin, we were thankful we weren`t out riding in the terential downpour that insued.  We enjoyed the hospitality and a look into living with a host family in Peru.

A kind woman told us that we would be safe to find a campspot in town and all that separated us from relaxing for the evening was a wooden cable bridge.  The crossing was a first with our heavy bicycles and midway through, it crossed my mind that there may be a weight limit and our combined 500ish pounds might be enough to send us plumiting into the swiftly moving cloudy water.  Fortunately that was not the case and a few stairs separated us from the town plaza where our puzzled looks made our presence obvious.  After a short break and conversation with a small tienda owner, we decided to walk around the plaza in search of a place to rest.  A few locals sat out in front of another shop and upon asking, Raul, introduced himself and told us that camping is possible indeed.  His wife,Rosa, shook her head, and then said NO!, the reason, too cold!  He said there are no hostals, but his wife would open up their storage place for us to rest.

We made our way down the dirt path and into a concrete room filled with bags of grain, or rice, and a perfect place to rest our heads.  Rosa then brought us a thermos of hot water for tea, and Melissa cooked a red sause pasta meal before we called it a night.  The morning brought warmer temperatures and excitement we edged closer to the provincial captial and hopes of delicious food.  Our desires became reality and after 20 hours in town we are ready for the open roads and quieter surroundings.  Hoping that the rains hold out as we are on the shoulder of summer, the wet season?