First full section in Peru: Ananea to Macusani

When we got back to Ananea after a few days of rest, we were grateful that the weather had also shifted. It wasn't as windy or rainy as we walked out of town. We took our time walking out of Ananea and through the town-sized mine along the outskirts. We camped that night in a ditch at the edge of the dirt piles that signified the mine. After the mine, the land opened to nothingness, and we made our way along the dirt road. The barren landscape spread before us, and we walked through the boring day, trying to find the mountains we had left behind in Bolivia. Late in the afternoon, we found them. Well, technically we found a really cool trail at the end of the dirt road that led down into a valley filled with brush and farming plots, but it wasn't boring. The way to get into the valley was a mix of trail and washed out areas, and it was overgrown at the bottom. In the valley, surrounded by farmland with a river running through it, was a small town. We ended up in the small town for the night in a modest hotel along the main street.

As we made our way out of town along the peotonal, or walking path, we ran into many people. They were on their way to work or school, and were very curious as to how we had found their valley haven. Many of them also wanted to get photos with us. They were also kind in answering the questions Fidgit and I had for them. These people explained the tiered sides of the valley as 'andenes' and also explained why not all of them were in use for farming- the land needed to rest for a certain period to produce properly. It’s amazing the things you learn when you ask.

We wound our way around and through a couple of valleys and towns in the next days. Fidgit and I were in a cloud for most of it, but the views were exceptional when we did have them. We also ended up following an older local man up and over a pass, taking the walking path instead of following the winding switch backs of the dirt road. 

After a couple of days walking through a cloud, we crossed a pass and burst free from the dampness, as the valley sprawled out before us. We made our way down the valley, and found ourselves back in the desert atmosphere that Fidgit and I had become so familiar with. We went from high rain forest into the desert simply by crossing from one side of the mountain range to the other. Rain shadows became a more real thing to me that day.

Since we had made it back to the desert, we walked along that day until we found water near the small regional capital of Crucero. We walked into town the next day, with some of the local well wishers (aka dogs) following along behind. From Crucero, we followed the valley’s river out and across to be able to go up another valley. The next wide valley we made our way up had a mine part way up it. So we were being passed by many mine vehicles until we reached its entrance, and then the valley fell silent as we made our way towards the town of Macusani. Two more days of walking and we were there, walking into the edges of Macusani along its stream. Fidgit and I were both ailing by that point, so we took some time off in the small town. We were very grateful to have a private bathroom during that time. We did take the opportunity of a town without internet to relax more and take care of ourselves, which was nice.

Walking out of Ananea

Which trail should we take?

Follow the electrical lines to town

Walking along a trail "Los Antiguos" built

Fidgit goes around a boulder in the middle of the trail

We made it into the valley!

A kind family, they answered many of our questions

Walking along a 1.5 lane road

On our way to another pass

The man who showed us a shortcut to the pass
walks ahead of Fidgit

These kids were on their way to school, and stopped to
get a photo with us

It's like a cloud forest

Clearing up over the pass

What are you looking at?

They get closer when you have food

Startling a sheep

Make your own bricks: A visual

We made it to Macusani

Sorata to Ananea: Crossing the Cordillera Apolobamba and into Peru along the Ruta De Los Tres Cordilleras

Fidgit making her way up and out of Sorata

We delayed leaving Sorata, because we were not excited for the multi-hundred meter climb in front of us. So, instead of leaving, we decided to have breakfast and lunch at the same restaurant and then hike out with very full stomachs. Going uphill. In the middle of the day. Can you see where this is going? I did not fare well, and ended up losing about half of what I had eaten in an unfortunate vomiting incident. We ended up hiking into the night to get to a place flat enough to set up our tent and pass out.

We passed through quite a few small towns along our way

The next day, we continued our trek upwards and found our way along a lovely valley. The route we were following was obviously an old road, but had been washed out in a few places and was no longer accessible by vehicle. The many small towns along this 'road' seemed unaffected by its state of disrepair, and were going along their days as usual. Many people stopped and talked to us in many of the pueblos we passed through.

Walking along the dirt tracks

Compared to the Cordillera Real that we had just come out of, the route was less arduous, so we were able to (inadvertently) pick up speed. We were also traveling through at least a town per day which helped keep our food bags light. As we made our way from town to town, we also noticed that even though these remote towns were neighbors, each one had its own personality. Some were outgoing, with the animals and people coming up to us immediately, others were more stand off-ish, with us having to make the first move to communicate. The government of Bolivia also seemed to be trying to reach these towns, as we saw attempts at tourist infrastructure and town health centers.

As we made our way towards the Bolivia/Peru border, the weather also decided to shift - we were coming into the rainy season. Because of this, and the not very flat land, we were staying in towns more often. Not many of these towns had what most people would consider accommodations, but we were able to ask around and sleep indoors. Indoors could be a spare room in a house, a small space in a school, or a multitude of other options I had never considered before.

Neon getting water from a spring

We dropped down from the town of Caja Cachi to get our passports stamped out of Bolivia and into Peru. Because of the remoteness of the area we were crossing, there was no occupied border post along our route. Thankfully, we had been warned and were able to get stamped through smoothly after a short explanation. We came back and continued along our route for a day before the weather really moved in.

Our second day back on trail, we woke up to rain falling on our tent (we did still camp sometimes). We packed up and wore all of our rain gear - pants and jacket. By mid-morning, my feet were soaked, and the rain was coming down harder. We came upon a town around lunchtime and were able to eat at a small restaurant to be out of the rain, and it had slowed by the end of our meal. We walked out into the cloud and continued into the evening before finding a dry place to stay. After a night's rest and attempts at drying out, we walked back out into the rain and over the day; everything got soaked again. This time, Mother Nature had a special treat for us - in the last hour of walking, the rain turned to a wet snow and plopped down on us. I was already soaked by this point, so the snow just perpetuated my descent into the realm of hypothermia. We made it into a Posta, or medical center, and the gentleman there gave us his space heater, and a hat full of animal crackers - we enjoyed both thoroughly and fell into an exhausted slumber that night.

The farming plots along the mountainside

In the morning, the skies were clearer, though the temperatures were lower, and we got our first view of the Apolobamba Range. What mountains! They were coated in snow in the distance and steaming as the sun shone down. That morning, we also came upon a rio, the official border between Bolivia and Peru. As the river flowed sinuously down the valley, we made our way up along the Bolivian side, not yet ready to cross into Peru.

Views into the valley

Crossing the altiplano at around 4,000 meters has its advantages and disadvantages. There are no trees, nor really anything not human-made, above hip height. We learned that we could see towns from very far away; we knew what was coming from nearly any direction, and also it is terrifying when it storms. We were watching clouds blow in and partly over us along the border valley. I ran into the small town of Huacachani when the lightning began striking around us. Fidgit was not far behind, and we found a small shop after our five kilometer speed walk/run in. As we were talking with the woman running the store, it came up that her brother had recently been killed while tending the family's animals - he had been struck by lightning. The Bolivian/Peruvian altiplano life is not for the faint of heart. Despite her recent loss, the woman was in good spirits and introduced us to the rest of her family, one of whom housed us that night as they were preparing to go to an inter-country market at the border the next day.

Pigs herd themselves here!

 

Fidgit looking out at our next pass

We said our farewells the next morning, and continued along as the wind picked up and the clouds moved in once more. We officially crossed the border right at the pop-up international market, as they were packing up from two days of socializing and vending. The rains came in, though not as hard this time, and the wind nearly blew me off route a couple of times as we made our way into Peru towards the border/mining town of Ananea. We stayed in another small pueblo along the way, and a couple locals told us about a back way to go, so we followed their directions. We made it across another pass and dropped down into Ananea right as the predicted afternoon storm began sprinkling rain on us.

Wind -burnt and tired, we were ready for a rest. There weren't very many options in the town of Ananea, so we took a mobilidad into a larger town to find a hot shower, contact our families, and exchange money (Bolivianos into Soles). After a few days of eating and a solid resupply of energy and fat, we made our way back to Ananea to continue along our route.

Some new dog friends in town

Fidgit talking to some kids at a school we stayed at

Lovely sunsets...

...sometimes make for cloudy mornings

I am not a fan of snow.

A hat full of animal crackers

Snowscapes in the morning

Walking along the valley

Clouds rolling in over the mountains

Hot springs/communal bath house

The 'river' between Bolivia and Peru

Walking into Ananea

Border Crossing: Bolivia into Peru Along the Ruta De Los Tres Cordilleras

Coming into Caja Cachi

As we had planned this route from La Paz, we knew we were going to have to do something different at the border crossing. The way we wanted to go along the Ruta De Los Tres Cordilleras did not have any border crossing stations. To solve this, we planned on doing what the bike packers had done originally - go off trail to Puerto Acosta and get our passports stamped. Then to go into Tilali, Peru and get our passport stamped in before we're actually in the country. It sounds kind of confusing and overwhelming. In the end it wasn't too much hassle. Here's the story:

The border office in
Puerto Acosta, Bolivia

We made our way from Sorata up and over the mountain passes to the small town of Caja Cachi. From Caja Cachi we took some local transport, winding our way down out of the mountains and along Lake Titicaca into the border town of Puerto Acosta. We spent the evening finding lodging (there are only two hostels in town, and I wouldn't recommend either), eating, and talking about how to explain our plan to the Border Guards. The next day we shopped to resupply for our next stretch and then made our way down to the Border Station on the edge of town.

Unfortunately, we had just missed the border station's morning window, and he was out to lunch for the next two hours or so. The guards next door lifting and lowering the road block were quite nice. Fidgit talked with them in hopes that they would put a good word in when it came time to explain our situation to the border guard. I think her schmoozing worked, because the guy ushered us into the office after his return and stamped our passports after minimal questioning. He then asked us many questions about our journey and even helped us find a ride to Tilali, Peru that evening by asking each passing vehicle if they could take us!

The border guard had a wall of visitors, and added us!

We bounced along the dirt road to Tilali, and the driver waited for us on the outskirts of town as we walked a couple of kilometers into the square. The border guard in Peru was very nice, and even gave us some information on his hometown of Cusco. We then went back to the waiting driver, and headed back to Bolivia.

When we got back to the hostel, we both breathed a sigh of relief knowing that we wouldn't have to go through the border hassle again for a while - Peru is our last country before returning to the U.S. to wait out the rainy season.

Lake Titicaca from the Peruvian border

The next day, we got on another van and headed back to Caja Cachi. We then headed toward the actual area of the Bolivia/Peru border we were going to cross.

Border office in Tilali, Peru

Happy to be done with passport stamps!

Main square in Puerto Acosta, Bolivia. They
were having a Sunday Feria

La Paz to Sorata: Crossing the Cordillera Real

And we're off!

We resupplied in La Paz and went out to a small outpost of Milluni, nestled near the base of Cerro Huayna Potosi- a towering mountain skirted with glaciers. Leaving Milluni, we immediately began our ascent to our first pass in the Cordillera Real. Beginning at an elevation of around 4,000 meters, we ascended for half the day up to around 5,100 meters and crossed over into the next valley. Descending to a small group of huts, we realized it was a refugio area and ate a snack in the shelter of the small buildings. As we left our refuge, the wind died down and the hail began. Thankfully we were prepared. The hail died down and we marched on along the valley to find camp for the night. We ended up following an aqueduct to a group of ponds and set up our tent between a couple of them to tuck in for the night.

The other side of the mountain, where most of
the glaciers were hiding

A refugio hut

The next morning, we set off to cross another pass. I was surprised at how rested I felt- I don't normally sleep well above 10,000 ft(3050 meters). We continued along the expansive valley most of the morning, before gaining elevation at another pass right as the lunch hunger set in. Luckily, we were able to stop for some lunch and continue up the pass in front of us. We crested in the early afternoon, and headed down hoping to cross the next pass a mere five kilometers and 1,000 meter descend and re-ascent away. Fidgit and I made it to the bottom of the valley in the late afternoon/early evening and decided to set ourselves up for success and not try and climb over another 5,100 meter pass. There was a camping area at one end of the valley, but we didn't want to pay to set our tent up so we headed to the base of the next climb. There, nestled into the base of the mountains, we found a small building. It turns out a group of people from down the valley came up and built a refugio together. As the evening winds picked up and the clouds descended, we decided to pay a small fee to stay indoors that night.

Waking up the next morning slightly refreshed, we made our way up and up to the top of the pass. As we neared the apex, I crossed some small snow patches and my oxygen-starved brain was taken back to the last time we had snow on the trail- in Northern Patagonia. I reminisced my way to the top of the pass, where Fidgit was patiently waiting to descend. I got ahead on the descent, and found myself standing on a ledge above a glacial lake, looking to my left at a cairn on the ledge next door.

From the altiplano into the mountains

These mountains seem to create their own weather patterns

Going up and up along the trail. Can you spot Fidgit?

As I began my descent, a small man showed up at the bottom of the rocky area, asking if I was OK. I replied and continued picking my way down with his watchful eyes on me. Fidgit showed up at the ledge and asked the guy at the bottom if this was the way down. "Si, son piercas!", he replied as I reached the ledge with the cairn on it and Fidgit began making her way down/across. I made a loud noise with my poles, and the man ran up from the base of the rocks to make sure we were OK. He then helped us the rest of the way down the trail/down climb area, and, ignoring his own clients who had huffed their way up and were resting, walked with us to an overlook and pointed out the trail to take down the valley along a lake. We made our way down and along the lake to the base of the next ascent and stopped for lunch. We began talking about our gratitude that along this journey, people seem to show up at the exact right time. I don't know how it happens, and I continue to be so thankful for it.

The glacial lake was a lovely backdrop for
our ledge adventure

After lunch, we ascended to a high point which, sitting at a mere 4,700 meters seemed much lower than the 5,100 meters we had just come over. We came down to another valley and discussed the next pass, which was even lower in elevation. It was still early enough, so we began our ascent. As we went up, some clouds rolled in and we got to experience our second hail storm of the Cordillera Real, this time with the added bonus of thunder! With no trees having been in sight for days, I was grateful that I didn't see any lightning because we had no choice but to be out in it. The storm rolled through quickly, coating everything in white, and chilling the air. We made it up and over the pass, descending to the edge of a larger valley and finding a lower place to camp for the night. I fell asleep quickly after dinner, exhausted by our 3-pass day.

This captures the cairn next door and the kind
guide waiting(notice the red dot)

Waking up the next morning, we began our descent further into the valley. I was tired from the day before and grumpy, so I just followed Fidgit. We ended up having to go down and around the valley to go back up the other side. It was longer than I would've liked, but it got us where we were trying to get. We made our way over another high point, coming upon a herd of llamas and their keeper along the way. As we made our way down across and into the next valley, I realized we had made it to the valley that we planned to cross from the western side of the mountains to the eastern side. I was interested in seeing what the other side of this range would look like, so I pushed myself harder again that afternoon. We made around 2 giant glacial lakes that took up most of the valley floor, and up to another lake before finding a camp spot and stopping for the evening. I crawled into my sleeping bag that night more weary than I had felt in a long time, and slept soundly even at the 4,300 meter elevation.

This nice man held Fidgit's poles
while she was down climbing

Waking up sore though ready, and adjusting more to the elevation daily, I was prepared for the next pass. It ended up seeming like nothing because it was on a dirt road and we had already done most of the climbing. So, up and over and down we went, and ate lunch at the base of our first eastern side of the Cordillera pass. After lunch, we headed up and I noticed a pretty immediate difference- there were far more trails on the east side of these mountains. At least noticeable trails going up and over the pass. This meant to me that more humans (with or without animals)  traveled through this area than the western side of the mountains. We had heard that before, which may color my perspective a bit, but the noticeable difference in trails was more evidence. Reaching the pass, we immediately began another steep descent into a valley that we would follow. The valley from above looked like a giant marsh, so I was relieved when I looked on the GPS and saw a trail that descended more gradually along the side of the valley to keep us out of it. We made it to where two valleys came together, and set up for the night.

Lunch break

The next day, we spent most of our time climbing up and up this beautiful wide valley with its glacier-fed river flowing along beside us. We- you guessed it- reached the pass and began making our way down into another valley. Still tired, we made it to the base of our descent and set up for the night. At this juncture, we knew we wouldn't make it to our next planned resupply town of Sorata in the time we had planned to, and were running low on food. Thankfully, we looked ahead along our route and saw that there was a small town a day or two before Sorata. We began hoping and planning to at least find something there to sustain us through to Sorata.

Our second hail storm in the Cordillera

We also had one more pass to go over before we would be in the valley with the small town, so we rested up and pushed on the next morning, with lighter packs and determination. It took us into the afternoon to get over the pass, but along the descent the trail meandered down and was easy to follow. We made it to town by early evening, and to our pleasant surprise it was bigger than expected. The town's children told us where the small store was, and then asked us for candy. We didn't give them any, though they stuck around anyway to gawk at the gringas until their parents or older siblings pulled them away. We hung out in town, repacking our food and snacking, then moved on to find camp for the night up the valley.

Checking the GPS and the sunset

Beautiful sunset

The next morning we headed off, relieved to have found food, though I wasn't excited about making my pack heavier right before a steep climb. Up and out of the lush valley we went, following along a mostly visible path towards the next pass. We ran into a guide and his charges near the top of the pass, and Fidgit did some information gathering with the guide as I talked to the charges. We continued up and the weather was nice enough at the top of the pass that we had lunch up there, blocked from the wind by a large cairn. We then went down. Near the bottom of the valley, we tried to forge our own way to avoid dropping as far in elevation before once again gaining it. Failing miserably, we did have another adventure in bushwhacking, as the first trees we had seen in days showed up quite inconveniently. Making our way up part of the next pass so we would be once again  set up for success, we found some water and a flat area for our tent. Settled in for the night, I wrapped my sleeping bag around me and talked to the nearby cows as my dinner was cooking.

Following animal paths

Going over the last pass before Sorata was tiring, so much so that we attracted a few condors near the top. They rode the thermals lazily above us as I huffed and puffed up to the 4,800 meter pass. Getting to the top in the late morning and then carefully negotiating the scree field on the other side was very tiring for me, so I greatly enjoyed our lunch break that day. Fidgit wasn't in a talking mood and was moving slowly, so I assumed she was also quite tired from this last week and a half of effort at high elevation. We chugged our way down towards Sorata- the lowest elevation we had been at in many days at 2,600 meters. It was a beautiful walk, though it was also tough to see where you are going from so far away and not be able to get there any faster. We ended up making it into town right around dinner time. Another successful section done reminded me that even though they can be brutal and exhausting, I much prefer mountain walking than walking along flat, boring areas.

Haven't seen colors like this since Patagonia

Valley floor Lake selfie

Camp at 4,300 meters

The lake was glass in the morning

"I don't think anyone's been here before" has
become a running joke.

Looking out from our perch on the valley below

Sometimes you just need a break by a glacial stream

The mountains peeked out at us

Fidgit getting some instructions from a local

Another break, another amazing view

One of the gawking children watching Fidgit
while she gets us more food

Looking back from whence we came

Llamas, watching Fidgit

One of the circling condors

Near the last pass, heading down to Sorata,
12ish kilometers away

Fidgit walks along a Peotonal, or footpath

Nearly to Sorata! Coming into the valley