to Puno

Leaving Cuzco this morning it was a perfect day, a little chill in the air and not a cloud in the sky. It was even easy to find the road out of town to Puno. About 10 miles down the road the bike started to feel squirrely and I pulled over. Yup, the rear tire was flat. I got the back tire off before the crowd started to gather and with help from my pit crew I was back on the road in about 45 minutes.

Pit crew

My pit crew hard at work.

From here the road rose higher and higher between snow capped mountains. First I stopped to put on my jacket liner. Then I pulled over to put on my winter gloves. And later I stopped to put on my heated vest – it was getting cold! Coming around around a mountain I could see rain in the distance but I didn’t mind, scuba-driving was par for course by now.

As I came into the rain it stung like bees. This was new. Looking down, the texture of the road changed dramatically and I realized it was coated in wet icy sludge! So that’s why the rain stung so much. I was riding through hale. My crotch quickly became an ice bucket and the water was soaking through my pants. I had waterproof insulated pant liners in my side case, but I didn’t want to pull over and take my boots and pants off in this weather. Then it got really cold, so I stopped road side, got nearly naked and added another layer. As Kurt used to say, its easier to stay warm than to get warm. After I got back on the road and the heater in my vest started doing it’s job I was surprisingly comfortable. I grinned as I passed a sign that read “Puno 23 km”.

The weather let up after an hour or so, and as the mountains gave way to a flat, high plane threaded by a river, I saw what I swear were two pink flamingos flying upstream. It was so odd to see these tropical birds so out of place, high up and where it was so cold and barren that I took it as an omen. I took it to mean that on my first real, full day on the road without Shannon, I had passed the audition.