We leave Cusco in the early morning and as we ride through the narrow streets, we watch the shop owners slowly prepare for the day while some ambitious tourists are already on the hunt for some continental breakfast and a decent cup of coffee. When we reach the main road, we are lucky, it isn’t crammed with viciously honking cars yet and we slowly make our way out of town. A few days in Cusco have been truly sufficient to still our yearning for some worldly comforts. Its urge to keep the ancient history and traditions alive while serving the needs of up to two million visitors from all around the world each year, seems a huge balancing act. As we move farther away from the ‘Plaza de Armas’, equipped with a Starbucks, all kinds of fast food vendors and nearby streets crammed with souvenir shops, we wonder if it will manage to keep the spirit alive as the historic capital of the Inca.
For the first 100km, we stay on the main road and make good progress because it’s paved and mainly flat. With our aim set on reaching the little town of Pitumarca by the end of the day, we hardly take any breaks but the busy road and its shabby roadside restaurants aren’t tempting us anyway. Pitumarca marks the beginning of the bikepacking route which we have on our radar for quite a while already - the ‘Ausangate Traverse’. Late in the afternoon, we finally manage to reach the little village just off the main highway and with the sun slowly setting, we wander around to find a basic hostel for the night. Tucked away, on the outer fringe of town, we find a suitable place which is run by a woman who smiles kindly when she sees us turning onto the dusty street towards her hostel. While she serves us the usual undefinable piece of meat with a huge heap of rice for dinner, she sits down with us and begins asking a bunch of question about our travels. Her curiosity astonishes me and we tell her about our plans to ride around Ausangate. A majestic mountain close by, poking as high as 6372m above the clouds. I can see a gleam in her eye as we explain our detailed route to her and she seems amused about our idea. I always wonder about how absurd we must seem to the local people with our laden bicycles, high-end gear and nonsensical plans while many of them struggle to even fit their basic needs.
Another early morning start takes us along a dirt road and out of Pitumarca. The road soon turns into a faint jeep track, which soon after, turns into a narrow hiking trail. This isn’t the first hiking trail we attempt to ride in Peru and while we head towards the snow-capped peaks, we foolishly hope that it’ll be more rideable than the last one. The first kilometers are promising but it doesn’t take long until the track turns sharp upwards, initiating our first climb. I have trouble to keep myself in the saddle. The soft, grassy ground and the steep gradient make it hard to keep a steady enough pace. The distance between me and Jona grows further until I can only make out his blue windbreaker in the distance. Steady but slowly, he’s progressing towards the pass. I retreat to pushing my bike and for a brief moment I regret not having left some gear with our sympathetic host in Pitumarca, but before long I stop fretting and rather focus on my surroundings.
And they are more than rewarding. The beauty of the high mountains and vast open landscape is hard to mentally comprehend all at once, I feel the need to stop every few meters to look around, tune in and take deep breaths. While the latter though, is probably due to the high altitude and the physical endeavor of mine to get the bike up and over. I’m not surprised that In the archaic mythology, Ausangate is one of twelve sacred Apus - which are so-called mountain spirits that the locals believe to be alive and bubbling with energy. And I find myself, even if I’m more rational than spiritual, sensing that there is actually something more to the mountain than I can probably grasp. It’s a long first day and that night we sit in front of our tent, eating the usual bowl of hot steaming pasta in total solitude and we are more than content.
The next day, starts with a cold breeze and dark clouds in the sky. Our bodies are aching from yesterday’s hike-a-bike but we still feel enthusiastic. Luckily our day begins with a downhill and I enjoy the views while steering my bike along the narrow path. In the distance, suddenly a little dwelling appears and as we move closer a dog starts barking raucously and charges towards us. Our experiences with dogs in South America haven’t been all too good, so we get off and place our bikes between us and the attacker. In contradiction to the dogs at home, the ones here usually protecting some nearby grazing llamas or a property from unwanted intruders and don’t hesitate to follow through with their tasks. With the dog snarling at us and baring its teeth, we go over our possibilities as a woman emerges from behind the dwelling. A sharp whistle is enough and the dog subserviently trots away. I’m grateful for our easy way out and thank the woman when she signals us to move closer. Behind her adobe house stands a loom on which she must have been working before we arrived. It’s the beginning of a colorful K'eperina - a large rectangular cloth, customarily used for carrying children or bulky groceries on the back. In awe I watch the delicateness of her work. Three months, she explains, it will still take her to finish her K’eperina. I take my camera out and ask her if I can take a picture, she nods to my own surprise. Many locals have been skeptical with having their pictures taken, maybe out of superstition or out of weariness to pose for strangers. In our broken Spanish, we talk some more before we have to leave and when we finally wave good-bye, we’re filled with gratitude for this genuine encounter.
We spent one more day, riding, pushing and dragging our bikes along snow-capped peaks, shimmering glaciers and turquoise lakes before we reach the end of the ‘Ausangate Traverse’. Our bodies are tired but our spirits feel refreshed and before we take the roads south towards the Bolivian border, we look back one last time and make the silent vow to come back one day to explore more of this amazing region. To our advantage, the mountain probably won’t go anywhere, even if Apu Ausangate is alive.