Cajamarca – Morcilla Baja school – Laguna Ponte – Huamachuco – Wild Camp Lagunas – Mollepata – Wild Camp Rio Tablachaca – Yuracmarca – Caraz
8 days | 508 kilometers | 10.130 meters elevation gain
I’ve been in Peru now for a couple of weeks and I have to say that it’s rising quick on my list of “Countries that I like“. The people are super friendly, hospitable and curious. A nice mix. Many times we hear people say “Welcome to Peru”, cars honk at us and throw some thumbs out the window, people invite us in for a coffee or to stay for the night. Moreover the landscapes here are stunning, majestic mountains towering over our heads, thousand-meter deep canyons seem to swallow you up, glacier-topped Andes peaks around every corner of the numerous switchbacks. Which brings me to my last reason why I like Peru: gentle gradients. Peruvians sure know how to build roads and especially bicycle-friendly roads. Although they probably did not have cyclists in the back of their minds when constructing these roads (instead they were most probably worrying about the heavily loaded mining trucks). Roads are not crazy steep because of the many switchbacks that they’ve carved out of the mountain walls here. It makes for stunning scenes.
We’ve recharged our mental and physical batteries in Cajamarca and are ready to tackle another bikepacking.com route. The introduction to the route on the website does not disappoint:
“3000 meter climbs out of deep valleys, hypoxic high altitude passes, glinting sapphire lakes, tiny villages bright with laughter and ice cream, cobbled and dirt roads, ancient civilizations and a politically energetic present…”
Jesús lost his bank card and needs to find a way to get some cash with his alternative card.
It leads to a late start. We cycle out of Cajamarca on a very straight road. Like always it’s busy with trafic near this big city. We pass a village with the name of Jesús and thus we have to take a picture of the sign and the man. After that we are off on gravel! And immediately we start climbing as well. It’s nice to leave all the busy trafic behind on the paved roads. In front of us only mountains, flocks of sheep and their colorful guardians: old ladies with beautiful hats and dresses. We pass tiny villages that seem abandoned and desolated but when we stop to make our lunch on the side of the road, we see heads sticking out of the dilapidated houses made of earth.
We climb to 3950m. I don’t have my best legs today and I’m suffering. Climbing on gravel is so much harder than on pavement. Wheels slipping, bumping over rocks, constantly a firm grip on your steer and 100% concentration needed at all times. We make it to the top where luckily a descend is awaiting us. We pass little villages where the kids shout “gringos!” after us in excitement and with big smiles on their faces. I never really liked the word gringo, for me it has a negative connotation. But here in Peru people say it straight in our faces with such big smiles and innocence that I cannot be bothered about it anymore.
We end the day at a school on the side of a cliff in the middle of nowhere. We’ve seen on the internet that this is a place where cyclists are often offered a place to sleep. When we walk over to the teachers they appoint us a classroom which we can use to sleep. “Classroom“, check! A new item on my checklist of “Weird but funny places I’ve slept“.








It’s Dea’s birthday, is been told to us casually during our usual oatmeal-breakfast. I think I’m more excited about that fact than the person in question. We sing Happy Birthday and exchange hugs. Furthermore we have a funny conversation during breakfast. I bring up the following question: “If you would have to make a little museum or exhibition of this trip, which objects or other things would be in it?” It’s funny to hear all the answers. For me the central piece would be the PVC tube that’s been holding my bike together for over two months. It would be accompanied by: my first pair of totally ruined sneakers, my tent would be on display with annotations of which incident caused which rip/damage, a display with our typical breakfast and it’s ingredients, but also: a bucket with a red line at the top marking the amount of diarrhea I’ve produced during this trip.
When we are packing up our stuff and loading up the bikes all the kids start to show up for school. Just like before the only thing that they’re interested in is us. They form a circle around us and look at us and our stuff in awe. Some kids invite me to play football with them. I seriously haven’t touched a football in more than a year and I dread it. I would like to play more, so they don’t have to ask me twice. It’s me against 10 Peruvian boys and the joy of playing football again is overwhelming. What’s also overwhelming is the fact that after one minute I’m literally completely out of breath.
We say goodbye to the kids and start going. The first part is absolutely lovely cycling. We cycle along the rim of a valley, following the folds the mountains make. The valley is mesmerizing, grandiose and the morning light creates a magical twilight. The road is pretty flat with big sections slightly downhill which makes for very pleasant cruising.
I see two old women, both with those great white hats, walking a bull down to another field to graze.
We end the day at a small laguna where a friendly family runs a small shop. Dea treats us on beer and chips and the family to a shower and a place to pitch our tent.
We wake up in between grazing sheep. Today is a very nice day on pavement. We end the day in Huamachuco where once again we have find a contact to sleep. But first: a little beer on the main square to celebrate our arrival. A guy starts talking to us and before we know it we all have half a liter of beer in our hands: perfect. It’s quite unbelievable how hospital Peru is, we already have received so many little gifts of appreciation. Peru is ascending more and more on my list of favorite countries visited this trip.
After we’ve made a little video for the local municipal marketing guy (“Hello, I’m from the Netherlands and YOU should visit Huamachuco too!”) we make our way to Mako and his family. They let us pitch the tent in the garden of a restaurant that they sublet and to our surprise we’re not the only ones who’ve found the contact in this city. Three other bicycle tourists have already pitched their tents as well: a couple from Argentina/Ecuador and Pedro from Spain travelling alone. Last mentioned is already on the road for 13 (!) years. He arrived from the south and is able to share with us lots of tips for routes and even more importantly: cool travel stories. An old-fashioned physical map is used to point out some routes to us. Mako and his family bring out coffee and bread and we have a delicious meal all together.









The next morning we’re off to a late start due too the necessity of restocking our food bags. We’re off into the wilderness again. After 10km of pavement to get out of the city, we take a left onto gravel and into the mountains. A beautifully meandering road takes us to 4100m. The landscape slowly changes back to the views that we gotten used to in these high-altitude plains. They call it paramo: no trees grow here, lots of rocks, vegetation is not very diverse, only one kind of yellow grass grows here. It makes for a beautiful desolate landscape. We see a family of vicuñas running away into the wide fields. We reach some beautiful lagunas and also see a nice camping spot. We hesitate if we call it a day or do some more kilometres. We decide on the first because we found a nice camping spot a bit out of the wind and we have crystal clear lagunas to filter water and take a bath. We take a dip in the more than ice-cold water. The water is so cold that my whole body starts tingling. But the sensation afterwards is also amazing, I can feel the blood running through my body. I start to understand this Wim Hof guy. We set up camp, cook and watch a sky full of stars unfold above us. Around 8PM it becomes too cold outside and we retreat to our sleeping bags.
We wake up in the cold. Makes sense because sunrise is the coldest time of the day. Nevertheless I’ve had a good night of sleep, I could stay warm in my sleeping bag. We have breakfast in an incredible landscape, mountain tops and lagunas surround us. After we’ve saddled up we filter some more water from the laguna for our bottles.
An incredible day follows. Beautiful vistas, barren mountain peaks, llamas shooting off in the distance, a beautiful road that gently leads us diagonally up and down along the slopes of the valleys. Easy gradients and good gravel, what else does a bike traveler want?! We pass some more flocks of llamas and then take a right to have a long, long descent all the way to the town of Mollepata. Dea has twitched a muscle or nerve in her spine, so the Swiss check into a hospedaje for a carefree night. Me and Jesús check out the school in town and soon after hear from the director himself that we can spend the night in the school, “no problem“. Which seems to be the standard answer in Peru and I love it.
We install new brake pads and clean the chains. In the night we have dinner at somebodies house. At least that’s what it looks like. No sign saying “Restaurant” or anything. I guess people just know that you can get a meal here.











Actually, today was too beautiful to grasp. But everything goes so fast, too much incredible impressions that just zip by.
It all started with an incredible descent and ascent over 58 (!) switchbacks, leading us down to the Tablachaca river and back up on the other side. The road is an absolute piece of art: a graceful road has been sculpted from a bare rocky mountainside that meanders its way up and down. We do 1200 meters up before lunch and I’m having a hard time. When we finally see the sign of our intended lunch village “Pallasca” suddenly the chain of my bicycle breaks. I was already moody because of all the climbing and this doesn’t improve my mood. Luckily I have all the tools to fix it and am back on my bike in no time, but now I don’t trust my chain anymore. I’m very careful exerting force on my pedals and try to go in as lightest gear up as possible. Luckily the trust in my bike regains after it proves to me it’s solid after a couple of hours. After a typical lunch of a minestrone soup followed by a dish of rice, lentils and a choice of meat (normally between €1.5-2.5) we follow our route.
Then we shoot into a fantastic valley. Down, down, down. Trying to suppress the urge of making a photo at every turn, but failing. It’s too beautiful here. After a crazy descend we reach the river but since we’re going to follow the river downstream we still go gently down. Fortunately, at some point the gravel becomes asphalt so that we can look around a bit more at all the beauty around us instead of at the road (avoiding loose rocks, planning the best path with as few bumps as possible). At the end of the day we camp near the river, take a bath in the cold water, wondering if the brown water will make us cleaner or dirtier. We cook a pasta which of course is delicious (all food is delicious when you’re hungry and tired) and watch a handful of shooting stars from our camping chairs when the night has set in.
We wake up wild-camping in a beautiful canyon. The life that I’m living slowly has been changed into something that’s normal.
But sometimes I have this sudden moment of appreciation, standing still in the moment, realizing the amazing outside life that I’m currently living. This morning I had one of these moments.
Back on the bike, the first 37 kilometer are still slightly downhill and require little effort. The road is still paved and it’s lovely to just cruise down and take in all the beauty of this canyon. We reach a little village where we try to restock on food. After that we enter a new canyon, following the rio Santa, but this time going upstream and thus gently uphill. The canyon is beautifully rocky, steep mountain slopes with all colors of the rainbow rising high above us. Neck cramps. We are passing several narrow tunnels where occasionally a bus or lorry comes from the other side, so we have to quickly hide in one of the crevices of the tunnel not to get run over.
At the end of the day we suddenly find ourselves climbing up towards something that seems to be an oasis. After having cycled all day inside a bare canyon with only rocks and dust, now suddenly we are greeted by mango, papaya and banana trees. We end up in a super cute, but also kind of desolated, little town. Everybody is super nice and talkative. The shop owner shakes our hand and invites us to sit down and try some of his papaya. When we talk to some of the elderly that are sitting on a bench next to the main little square and ask if they know a place where we can camp, they simultaneously point towards the little kiosk that is located in the center of the little square. We react with amazement, “Sleep? Over there? In the middle of the town?“. “Yeah sure, why not?“, they react, followed by the usual and oh-so-lovely-to-hear “Aqui no pasa nada” (nothing will happen to you here). Well, that’s settled then. The shop owner let’s us take a shower in his house, which is much appreciated. We cook on the little square, sitting in our camping chairs. It’s probably quite the sight for the locals, that walk by greeting us and exchanging a few words, but probably wondering what these four crazy gringos are doing here. We roll out our mats in the kiosk, no tents, tonight we sleep in the open air.









I wake up laughing, where the hell have we ended up now?! In a sleepy town, in the middle of nowhere, sleeping outside, in the central park, surrounded by friends. Our camping spots are getting crazier, but Peru seems to be providing for this with a big smile.
We leave the oasis again descending back to rocks, valleys and dust. But not before spotting some beautiful green parrots devouring an apparently ripe mango tree with lots of noise.
We enter the Cañon del Pato. Forty-seven tunnels await us, large and small, thick and thin. A amazing road to cycle through. How the hell did they carve out this road in this small canyon? A tailwind pushes us up towards Caraz where we treat ourselves to the regular we-made-it-back-to-civilization meal of beer and ice-cream! Jesús and I will stay in the beautiful backyard of Luis’ AirBnB that currently is not rented. On the same day a Colombian couple with a beauty of a homemade campervan joins us in the backyard.
Caraz is a city with absolutely no highlights or things-to-do and, believe it or not, those are the cities I like the most. I’m here to recharge my batteries and rather chill and do nothing. I’d rather not have to visit this cathedral, check out this mirador or go for this one-day hike. I only want to eat a lot, sit and/or lie a lot and clean my clothes and bike.
We do have a very nice dinner in the house with the Colombians and Luis with enough wine for two dinners. Also I’m trying to find a bike shop to get a new bicycle chain but, believe it or not, in this more than medium sized city there is zero (!) bike shops. Luckily Luis tells me that I can contact his buddy in Huaraz, a city some 70 kilometers south of Caraz, that owns a bike shop over there and will be able to help me out. Good news: he has a chain for me and is able to send it to me in Caraz.
Now, the beauty of all of this is how it’s send to Huaraz. Luis’ buddy prepares a package with the chain, walks to the bus station and finds a collectivo that is headed to Huaraz, he instructs the driver, makes and sends me pictures of the driver and his license plate and tells me to be ready at the bus station in Caraz in approximately 2 hours. Which is what I do and two hours later a little bus with a license plate that is familiar to me rolls into the bus station, I pay the driver his 10 soles (€2.5) and I have my new chain.
I love the way things go on this side of the world. No shipping companies, no difficult track & trace numbers, no “we’ve missed you, pick up your package at the post office”-notes. Much easier.
Next up: More Peruvian beauty making a loop through Huascaran National Park and a very, very scary night.











Weer genoten! En nu fiets je naar…..? Succes man!!
Goed zo! Daar doe ik het voor! Ik fiets de komende maanden nog door de bergen in Peru en daarna richting de zoutvlaktes in Bolivia:)
Wat blijft het toch geweldig om je verhalen te volgen Marijn! En mooi dat je dat moment van bewustzijn hoe bijzonder het is om buiten te leven met ons deelt. Misschien word je leven juist wel rijker als je het simpeler maakt. Food for thought 🙂
Leuk dat je nog steeds vaste lezer bent kerel! Less is more 🙂
Geweldig avontuur weer Marijn , ik heb nu nog meer spijt dat we niet naar Peru konden gaan
Wat een overweldige natuur en gastvrije mensen kom jij daar tegen , inderdaad goed moment om daar ‘even’ bij stil te staan
En wie weet wat voor moois je nog te wachten staat
Leef je avontuur en blijf genieten en vooral ook schrijven en foto’s maken want daar kijken we naar uit XXX
Dankjewel mamsie
Zeker weer genoten van je verhaal en vooral van alle prachtige foto’s. Wat een uitzichten zeg.
Hey Marijn, heel veel plezier de komende weken met Arjo.
Dankjewel Pieter, gaat helemaal goed komen 🙌
Hey Marijn. Heb zojuist geld overgemaakt voor een lekker biertje samen met Arjo.
Pieter en Thea
Wat lief, Pieter. Gaan we goed besteden en we sturen een fotootje!
Hee Marijn, geweldig weer! Ik weet niet of het slim is te vermelden dat die Spaanse gast al 13 jaar onderweg is. Je zult Miriam moeten overtuigen dat dit niet jouw plan is, toch? Jij hoeft nog maar een ‘stukje’. Hou je taai en heel!
Groet, Theo
Geen zorgen Theo en mama, ik denk dat ik het geen 13 jaar ga volhouden 😉