Central y SurAmerica Moto Adventure - Peru
by Todd Peer

Octobre 2002 - Abril 2003


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    December - 10 to 14, 2002: Chiclayo

    Odometer: 16,090

    Well, as Hugh made the effort to show up back at the Posada Ingapirca the evening he travelled back to Riobamba to pick up his forgotten title and credit cards, I thought it would be nice to sleep in a little. So at 8am I woke him up to come and get some breakfast with me :-D Afterwhich we headed down the hillside and took care of some needed roadside maintenance to the bikes, chain cleaning and tightening.

    From here we intended to get at least as far as Loja, or maybe further permitting no mishaps or adventure. The Panam on this stretch, like most of the road in Ecuador was nothing less than spectacular. Keep in mind, this road runs all the way through the Sierras, north to south, in Ecuador. So basically we are riding in the altitudes of anywhere from as low as 5000ft to as high as 12,000 feet. And it is hell on these poor little single cylinder motors.

    The road to Loja is in serious disrepair. Or more fairly state, there are sections with brand new pavement, others that are being repaired and others still that appear to be simply neglected. What a day. For you motorcyclists reading, imagine plowing through around 10 miles of awsome twisty sets just to be confronted (surprised?) around another righthander with, dirt! And then loose gravel and mud for the next 10 miles. And of course there are the obligatory potholes! It is aggravating but, then again, it is South Amrica.

    The road conditions described continued this irregular happenstance all the way to Loja. So we decided to stay there for the evening and get some rest. All I can really say about Loja, except for the peculiar fixation with Disneyland like sculptures all over the city, is that there ain't no nightlife. Hugh and I stepped out for some dinner only to find that the bussling and lively city we rode into pretty much shutdown after around 7pm.

    We actually got up early in Loja because we had a pretty full agenda. We wanted to visit the Puyango Petrified forest and head back to Macară, one of the Ecuadorian border towns with Peru, and, if time allowed, cross the border into Peru.

    The PanAm out of Loja to the border was exactly opposit as the northern section except it was just as, if not more, twisty. From Loja to the frontera there is roughly an 8000ft drop in altitude so the scenary changed quite a bit, but waws just as awsome as the days before. We went from a verdant, albeit an air-robbing environment, right back into desert scrub which reminded me of the Texas hill country. But what a relief to be able to breath deeply again!

    As we approached Macară, we had to stop at an army checkpoint to register our passage. Good thing too because these guys instructed us on the turn towards the petrified forest. The park boasts a petrified forest tantamount to that found in our own Arizona state. And the road there, of course, was nothing shy of a motorcyclists wetdream! Again we came to a military checkpoint and, again a good thing because we would have blown right past the turn to the forest.

    We went in and had a broken, confusing conversation with an elderly man who was taking custody of the park entrance. After spending a dollar to get in and taking directions to where we should go, we proceeded to take the wrong road within 200 yards of the entrance. It seemed ok except it reminded me a little bit of the road into Batopilas. At one point Hugh and I came to a stream crossing (not deep) with steep banks and discussed turning back. I was beginning to suspect we had gone the wrong way. Finally I said, "let's just go another two miles, if we don't see the termination of this road or the camping area, we turn around".

    So we crossed and contininued to NOT find anything. The decision was made, go back and find the other road. The second time we crossed the stream was an adrenaline rush for both of us as the road down was all big chunky rocks. Hugh went first and just plowed it, no stopping, gas all the way and a nice big splash of water on the muddy bank for me to follow in. Great. I got across but not without the rearend wiggling back and forth threatening to pitch me off into the mud.

    Anyway, we found the road around 2:30pm and decided that we really didn't care too much about looking at a bunch of rocks in the shape of trees and so decided to head back to the PanAm and Macară. Good thing too as it started to rain, or more likely spritz with heavy rain clouds we needed to pass through. This went on until we cam to Celica (small town on the pass) where I got gas. As we left Celica the rain abated and it was pretty much smooth sailing into Macară

    We stayed at the Conquistador Hostal for $8 each which turned out to be not such a great value as it was next to the major thorughfare. Kind of loud if you know what I mean. The owner was very accommodating though, allowing Hugh and I to park the bikes at his home and making sure we got everything (except sleep) we wanted. Ah, well.

    The Peruvian border crossing at Macară was definitely the easiast crossing yet. Curiously, there were NO tramitadores or beggars, and very few money changers. It probably helped that we got there at 8:30am and there wasn't much action. Whatever, it was great, taking only about an hour

    My first impressions of Peru were, "Hey, this is Mexico!" The obvious poverty and filth (garbage everywhere) is simply astonishing. And while I'm on this topic, I really don't get the attitude about garbage here. It is simply dumped someplace the dumper is not, forgotten and ignored. I'm not a greenie by any measure but, damn! For instance, while having lunch today at the beach, our waitress walked over to the balcony with an empty CocaCola bottle and just tossed it over onto the beach. No problem! They just don't, or are beyond caring. I don't know which it is but it is so sad. Some of the places we've been would've been so much nicer without all the garbage around.

    Anyway we were on our way to Sechura which, by the map anyway, had a beach. We figured we could take this detour and, if it didn't work out we would simply keep riding on to Chiclayo. Well, of course it didn't work out! The last town before sechura had a road sign directing us onto, as it turned out, an alternate path/road. It was a graded sand road that ran through a clam shell dump. Talk about stink! To make matters worse (for me anyway) I ran through what looked like an oilspill in the sand. Shortly afterword I stopped to take a pic and happened to look down at my bike and noted the unusual fly population that had accumulated. And then I caught a wiff of the foulest smelling biohazard I've ever smelled. I looked at my boots and there were all these little maggots twisting around in the spooge that splatterd up on them. Icky!

    I quickly got back on the bike and chased after Hugh, dragging my feet in the sand, Yuck...Yuck!

    Fortunately for me, we poped into Sechura right at a service station where they had a pressure washer. The lad running the place immediately recognized (or smelled) the problem and assisted me with a hosing of my pants/boots and bike, in that order. And we immediately drew attention. One thing I've notice about Peruvians is that they are VERY interested/curious about us and our motorcycles. They are truly awed at what we are doing. Pretty cool!

    After about 15 minutes of small talk (very small for us), we thanked the guy and headeded onto Chiclayo. The quckest way was through the Sechura desert (see pics). What a contrast to just days ago!

    Once we got back onto the PanAm highway we could make a little time. No twisties. No turns. No hills. Just flat! At one point Hugh had gotten considerably farther along than me and so I decided to try and catch up. within a couple of miles I was passing a truck around 80mph and some highway cops waved me over, along with a truck. The truck stopped about forty yards in front of me and as the cops slowly passed me on there way to the truck the passenger waved at me in a way that I interpreted to mean, go ahead. So, I did! Slowly at first to see if they were going to pull out and chase me down.

    I worried for the next ten miles if that cops wave didn't mean, "come up here with us", but figured that he wasn't chasing so, well, f-'em! I'm gone! And then I saw another one on the side of the road and thought, "oh no, radio". But he just waved as I passed.

    Hugh and I discussed this later and came to the conclusion that they were randomly pulling trucks and bussed over looking for contraband. Yeah, well it works for me!

    We finally got to Chiclayo and while checking out a hotel, three dual-sports (2 Yamahas and an XR) came passed and stopped. Way cool! They were as excited to see our bikes as I was to see theirs. This is the first time since the USA we've seen 650cc motos other than other travellers.

    The next day we went to the Tucame ruins (see pics) which, like other ruins we've seen are...ruined. Oh well. My appreciation for such things is minimal, but since we were in the area anyway....

    From there we jaunted over to Pimintel, a beach town. It was nice to just kick back with a couple of cold ones and relax for the day.


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This page last updated 12/03/2002