Our second day started with the sun. After it had warmed my tent enough for me to summon the courage needed to exit my sleeping bag, I crawled out into the frosty 12000 foot morning. Our paddock was undisturbed and our bikes lay where we left them. Across the clearing I found Alexander crouched on a rock, lighting the stove, to start the boil. Water for our oatmeal was first, it needed to sit, coffee second. We ate and drank our brew, warming ourselves in the sun, until we needed to shed our jackets and hats. Soon we began the process of packing up camp, slow on this first morning, lacking the rhythm acquired after multiple days on trail. Eventually the bikes were loaded and camp doubled checked for any trace of us. Hauling the bikes back over the stone wall was harder than expected and resulted in a few devilish thorns in my ankles and socks. We struggled the heavy rigs down the the hill and back to the road where we had left off. A short ride took us up the hill to another small village, where we took a small detour to fill our bottles. Finding the store we were greeted by the owner with a smile and a welcome. He sold us a few liters of water and returned to the shade across the street, where he sat with his daughter and continued his breakfast, a pile of orange peels lay between them. Leaving town we took a short cut to rejoin the road ahead of where we had left it. The road we had seen on the map quickly turned to a trail, running strait up the hill, steeper than we could pedal. We pushed our bikes breathing harder then ever on the thin air, reaching the road exhausted and wondering why we hadn’t just gone back the way we had came. Ahead of us was our second major pass of the trip and also the lowest, reaching only 14,900 feet into the air. The climb had over 30 switch backs to the top from where stood, it was only about six miles but it would take hours, so we got started.

High on top we stopped, propped the bikes up off the road, and took a seat in the dirt. We munched on snacks and flung rocks at other bigger rocks, mesmerized by the never ending mountains everywhere we looked. Reaching the top of a climb like that will always be enough of a reward to keep me coming back to cycling over and over again. The reward of seeing the majesty of the natural world with a clear head. A clear head gained only through the hours of toil and struggle to pedal my bike higher and higher up the mountain. The time spent on the bike, in pain, opens my mind to my most intrusive thoughts, where I’m forced to confront them. Deciding to leave them behind, where they tumble down the hill, so I can reach the top with room to appreciate.

We enjoyed the downhill free of dog chases and descended towards the town of Acobambilla for some lunch. Sitting at the bottom of the river valley, lush with the first trees we had seen since Huancavelica, we found Acombambilla sleepy in the afternoon sun. After a few minutes of standing in the square a passer by stopped and asked us if we needed help. Seeking only a meal, we told him so and followed as he walked us down the lane. We waited outside as he entered a home, calling out for the owner, quickly they emerged and welcomed us in. We sat and thanked our friend as he passed back through the small door. The woman disappeared into the back, returning with tea and buns. She offered us soup and rice with eggs, apologizing for not having chicken. I thanked her and told her we were happy with the eggs. The low room was dark and cool, a nice reprieve from the bright world outside. There were three small tables and a few shelves, offering the basics, chips, cookies, potatoes and Inca cola. We sat back and relaxed, thankful for the shelter and hospitality. Soon our host came with a bowl of broth and again with a large plate of rice topped with green sauce and a fried egg. A basic meal but a large plate full of good calories, great for what we were doing. We bought some more water off the shelf and paid our bill, around twenty SOL or 5.25 USD. Back in the square, under the afternoon sun we mounted our bikes and headed up the hill, towards the next pass, to find a spot to sleep. A few miles on and a few hundred feet higher, on a bend in the road, blanketed in evening sun we found home again. Another small stone wall, more overgrown this time and much smaller. We stamped out the grass and pitched the tents, coining the spot the ‘acclimation station’. The boil was on and dinner on the way. We marveled at our moment it time as we crawled into our bags after another successful day.

Again we waited penitently in our tents for the sun to gain its strength and give life to our day. Our camp was a thousand feet higher than the night before and just slightly colder. In the morning I declared I would be sleeping in my down pants from now on. We made two rounds of coffee that morning and still got our earliest start of the trip, rolling out of camp at 9am. Relaxed mornings became the norm on this trip, with coffee and morning sun it was easy to sit for a while longer, anticipating the climbs ahead. Eventually we would move, bidding our temporary home farewell to start down the road again. We climbed gradually up a smooth valley for a few hours, the road crested the top and rolled off into the distance, rising and falling across the wide open country. From there the route would stay above 14000 feet for the next 70 miles, a true test. With our sights set firmly on a shower and meal in Laraos, we acknowledged the seriousness of the next section and continued on. The first alpine lake of our trip, Nahuincocha, sat penitently over the next pass, a quick downhill brought us right to the shore, were we sat and filled our water bottles. I would have liked to have spent the rest of the day there, skipping rocks and eating all my snacks but knowing there were more hills to climb, we soon took off.

From Nahuincocha the trail again took us up high, near 16000 feet. My chest heaved, trying hard to catch my breath, pulling to fill my lungs but coming up short. A group of alpaca sat in the distance, their dogs close by. As the barking commenced, we dismounted and walked our bikes, the dogs would relax if we walked. If they needed encouragement a lightly thrown rock, or even imitating a throw, would do the trick. The dogs stopped short, 20 yards away, above us on a rocky ledge, they sat, watching us closely. We continue to walk and slowly they followed, pushing us away from the herd. I was thankful for the walk and to slow the pace. The dogs had their job to do and we had ours, no need to get in each others way. Past the dogs the route rolled downhill into a tight river cut valley, parallel to the water we rode in and out of the hillside, cutting upwards away from the river. Continuing to climb, the road would leave the river and with it our chance to fill water. Additionally any options for camp would be higher than where we were now and higher than we had ever slept before. Realizing our chance to fill our water was slipping away we stopped and discussed our options. On the way there had been a few small trickling creeks coming off the hillside and falling down into the river. Instead of climbing down the hill from where we stood, we decided to hope for another creek up the road. For camp we consulted the route elevation and found a small dip, around 14000 feet, a few miles ahead. The evening sun was saying it’s goodbyes as we once again cut into the hill, noticing a particularly deep draw flowing with water. We filled up and continued on our way, climbing our last hill of the day. In the evening sun we made our way down into a wide valley where we found our camp. Down near the bottom, before the road turned and climbed again, high on the hill there was another low stone wall. Dropping the bikes, we made the journey first on foot to check it out, finding it even better then we had hoped. Flat and deserted.

The cold set in quick without the sun and we huddled in our tents, making dinner. Waiting for our dehydrated food to hydrate we cuddled the bags full of hot water close to our chests. Later in my sleeping bad I listened to a truck slowly climb the hill, making a night journey over the pass. I imagined the driver, and what it would be like to drive those roads at night, I wondered where they were going and how long it would take to get there. I wondered where we were going and how long it would take us to get there.