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Jul 13th Peru Part 1: Motorcycle Fool’s Errand

I’ve been to Peru before, but was only in Lima for about a week. I haven’t been to South America since my honeymoon in 2015, that trip didn’t work out, and neither did the marriage. So of course when the idea was suggested in the group chat I was hesitant but also looking for a bit of redemption. Its hard as a writer when you can’t put a feeling into words, that’s my job, but I guess I just wanted to salvage South America. Like if I could go there and have a good time it would undo some of the failures of my past.

The plan was for me and three friends: Natalie, Renata, and Vanessa to all go to Peru together. You may remember them from other adventures like my Guatemala trip. As it turns out, I would be there a week before the girls arrived so I did the natural thing and rented a motorcycle and did a trip north. I found a few motorcycle rental options but the most affordable, by a huge margin, was a Hero Eco 150cc (boasting a whopping 13.5 horsepower). I did a sizeable amount of research on the best available route and decided to do Canyon Del Pato. It was a long flight there, and getting from the airport to hotel resulted in some confusion when my pre-booked ride didn’t show up so they sent another only to have both arrive at the same time. In the evening I explored the city a bit and got some food. Ordering that first meal, alone, in a new country is always a great feeling when successful and in this case I was able to use my Spanish, which felt like a big win.

Lima to Barranca

In the morning I picked up the bike and hit the road. My first impressions were that Peruvians were crazy. Traffic was bad and the motorcyclists belonged in a circus exhibition show the way they drove. I did my best to match their style in an attempt to be predictable. An easy trick was to find a bike and follow it through the traffic. Once I got outside of the city it was a much calmer ride, but my bikes lack of power became quite obvious. I found I was topping out somewhere around 70km/h. The landscape was also a little depressing, it was all desert and sad huts and shacks barely standing. Peru also has a major little problem with at times resulted in a bit of a landfill small. The rental place suggested I see Chancay Castle. I googled some pictures and it looked like an interesting old castle, maybe a relic from Spanish colonialism. I drove half an hour out of my way to find it was actually a theme park… I didn’t go in. I passed a checkpoint and was waved in, my blood pressure spiked and I had visions of Peruvian incarceration because I didn’t have cash for a bribe. Turns out this cop was very honest, he checked my paperwork and we did our best to communicate, eventually he just asked “tourist?” “si, tourist” “ok, have good day”. My hotel for the night was off the beaten path down some dusty back roads and at one point a dog ran out to chase me, I barely got away… my motorcycle was barely faster than a terrier, thank got it wasn’t a whippet chasing me. The hotel was nice, but no one spoke English, with my lacking Spanish they explained that they dont have a kitchen, I had to order food. After some “chatting” with them, they were kind enough to call and order for me. The food was amazing, grilled chicken and french fries. I spent the evening alone in my hotel room wondering just how foolish this idea was.

Barranca to Huaraz

It wasn’t an interesting day, but it was a challenging one. I started the day early as there were predictions of rain and I wanted to get ahead of it. The landscape changed from desert to more grassland and I gained elevation.. nearly 4000 meters of elevation actually. That little bike with its carburetor really struggled, in fact, I was going so slow up the switchbacks that I got pulled over. Again, I was nervous and again the police were honest. A quick license and paperwork check followed by a handshake and a goodbye. I arrived at town tired, dehydrated, and starving and promptly got lost looking for my hotel. Google Maps kept leading my down a dead-end alleyway. After the second time I used satellite view to science it out a bit better and finally found it on the edge of town. Then it took 15 minutes of banging on the door before someone let me in, as usual I was the only guest. I had more chicken for dinner at 5pm, my first meal of the day, and went to bed early not feeling well. I was quite cold, as we were high up, but the hotel had no heaters, the owner was kind enough to give extra blankets.

Huaraz to Caraz

While loading my bike, I tipped it against a brick wall and broke the last inch off the brake lever. Not a great start to the day. The road to the next town was a bit rough, but it was paved. I then deviated to see a lake that the hotel owner in Huaraz had suggested I visit. The road was a sand and gravel mess, more potholes than road and no shortage of wash out. I fought my way up it for 45 minutes and paid to get in to the park. 15 more minutes of driving and I was at Llanganuco Lake. It would have been at home anywhere in the Rockies with its turquois waters. Downhill was a little faster, more in the fashion of a mountain bike than a motorcycle. I made my way to my hotel in Caraz, only to find my phone not able to make calls and no one opening the gate, again I banged on it and rang the bells until someone finally came. A woman with an American accent expressed shock that I was on such a small bike with such little luggage. She let me in, got me squared away and explained that I was the only guest. I joined her for a walk around the property with her dogs, which was quite lovely, then had a nice meal in the attached restaurant. The owner told me she was from Montana originally and she introduced me to her business partner, a woman from Venezuela named Maria. The room was nice, with a big bed, proper shower with hot water, and lamps beside the bed for reading (oddly rare when I travel).

Caraz to… Caraz…

After a few days of rather dull riding along roads that were either straight and boring or tight switchbacks that were a slog, I was excited to finally hit the canyon. Canyon Del Pato is well known for its winding roads, tunnels through mountains, and views of waterfalls. It comes highly recommended on adventure motorcycle travel. I loaded up my bike, bid farewell as they wished me safe travels. At 21km I excitedly went through the first tunnel and was so happy and excited to finally be doing it… but the bike felt…off. I pulled to the shoulder and had a good look at my, now flat, rear tire. Some serious adventure bikers from Argentina stopped to help, but I found my emergency tool kit provided with the bike had no spare tubes in it, just an old wrench and a clutch cable. They aired my tire up and suggested I turn back, which I did. I made it 1km to a cafe, the woman explained that I couldn’t get a tire shop to send someone to me and hiring a truck would be very expensive so I was best to wait for a truck to come by and catch a ride. Only one truck came by, a large gravel truck who couldn’t fit the bike. I decided I best press on, the woman lent me a hand pump more suited to a bicycle. I aired the tire and made it a few hundred feet before it was flat again and now unable to hold air. I couldn’t ride the bike at any speed on the flat so I had to push it. This was going to be a long day so I made a better plan. Stripped off as much gear as I could and changed to a light long sleeve shirt to keep sun off. I grabbed a gear tie (heavy duty wire that can be shaped) and used it to tie my clutch lever half way, then I set my helmet on the throttle as a lock. In this way I could let the bike slowly power itself while just holding it up. It was slow but it worked, except the foot peg would occasionally bash into my calf. A few people on motorcycles stopped but were unable to help, finally enough sun had penetrated my skull that I came up with an idea. The next bike to stop happened to be a young man who spoke some English. I asked if he could get to where there is cell service and call my hotel from last night and see about a truck. He left and I kept pushing, 45 minutes later he came back and said “that’s Maria, I know her, she said she would try and get a truck so just wait here. I’m sorry, I have to go.” and off he went. I stopped in some shade, had some water and a snack, after what felt like an hour, I started focusing on how he said that she said “try to get a truck” and decided I didn’t like that. I started pushing again. Around kilometer 4 and hour 3 of pushing a farmer stopped in his tuk-tuk, I asked if his phone worked and if I could use it. I also thanked myself for taking all those Spanish lessons, because they were absolutely paying off. Maria answered and she excitedly explained that she was on her way in a truck and I should stay put. I thanked the man for letting me use his phone. Within minutes Maria and a man were there with a big truck, a cabover larger than a pickup but smaller than a semi. He and I lifted it up and into the back and rested it on a tire. He drove Maria and I to the tire shop were she came with me to make sure I didn’t get ripped off. The driver asked 120 soles for the ride (about $45), and a new tube, tire, and install was 105 soles (about $40). I couldn’t see what caused the tire to go flat as it had been so beaten by me pushing the bike, there was no obvious puncture, so my guess was I damaged it by hitting a pot hole, or maybe the protective band inside the rim slipped and the spokes poked a hole in the tube, I’ll never know for sure. The driver left, Maria caught a taxi, and I got some gas and headed back to the hotel. It was now nearly 5pm and I was exhausted. I spent the night at that hotel and Maria informed me she was giving me a special deal on the room, which is crazy because she had already saved me, if anything I should have paid extra.

Caraz to Barranca

Unfortunately, due to that lost day and the flat tire, I couldnt keep my original route, I had to turn back and retrace my route. I laughed a little at the fact that I had driven 3 days of meh roads to get through one tunnel of the canyon and then turned around, but thats life sometimes. Now I had 2 days to retrace those steps, so I did the long ride back to Barranca. It was better riding as it was mostly downhill, but the entire time I worried about another flat. In a lapse of judgement, I booked a different hotel this time, something more central. I booked online for about $35 but when I arrived I was checked in and paid $20. In my room I wondered if this was a umm… well… a sex hotel.. there were mirrors everywhere and all the bedding was bright red velvet and zebra print. Putting it out of my mind I had a shower, the bathroom looked like they forgot to finish it, there was exposed water valves they had cut the tile to access and a hole in the top that I assume they plan to put a window in at some point, and there was no shower curtain. I got out of the shower and saw a text from booking explaining that I had been put in the wrong room at the wrong rate and I had to move to the penthouse and pay the difference. It wasn’t much nicer, but it did have a balcony, but it looked out over unfinished buildings and smog. The TV worked, and it was nice to watch a movie.

Barranca to Lima

The road back to Lima was quite dull, just a long 4 lane road through the desert. I did take this opportunity to find that bikes top speed, going down a long hill, full tuck, top gear, full throttle, I hit a whopping 97km/h. I was honestly a little furious at this point. I got back to Lima and white knuckled my way through traffic back to the man I rented the bike from who seemed shocked I was there to return it and told me he would be there in an hour, when I explained I was there now, he arrived in 10 minutes. I showed him the damage to the lever, and the new tire, and politely gave him a bit of a talking to about his pathetically insufficient emergency kit. He seemed genuinely surprised that the tire change tools weren’t in there along with a new tube. He gave me my full damage deposit back and promised the next guy would get a better kit.

I caught an Uber to the AirBnB and got checked in. Renata arrived shortly after and I nearly cried I was so happy to see a familiar face after those last few days. Our internet wasn’t working so the owner came by and fixed it and brought us a bottle of wine to apologize for the inconvenience. We drank it that night, and ate way too many maple cookies after a short walk around town to try a pisco sour. In the morning Natalie and Vanessa arrived and the rest of the trip began.

Honestly, I was quite sad about this part of the trip, the riding I was able to do wasn’t great and the bike was severely under powered for it. I considered a large bike but this one cost $300 to rent while a larger one, 500 cc, cost around $1200. It made me realize the importance of enough power but also my need to learn how to change a tire and have the tools to do it myself. For an experienced biker that could have been a 1 hour setback, I lost an entire day that cost me the main purpose of my trip, that’s on me. I did learn that there are trustworthy people willing to help in these countries, like the friendly police, all the bikers who stopped to help, the café worker who gave me a pump, and especially the hotel owner who came and retrieved me. But in the end, like most things in life, it was on me to help myself and I just couldn’t in that instance. I was off to a rough start, but I have four weeks and three friends to help salvage it.

Posted in Motorcycle, Travel and tagged adventure, backpacking, Outdoors, peru, travelwith 1 comment.