April 10, 2005
Day 49
In La Quiaca, Argentina, we had shared a room with two English travellers who had done a 4x4 excursion from Tupiza to the lagoons -- and so had been on this route. We'd plied them for information about it, and what we came away with, aside from memories of their bewilderment that anyone would cycle this route, was that there is a "high" road in addition to the main route. Their driver had taken them out on the low road and back on the high one.
"It's high but the road quality is better. The lower one follows a river and is quite rocky," the guy had said. "The high road is also much more scenic. There's nothing up there, so you'd need to be prepared and have enough of your own food and water."
Some of the questions we put to the drivers in Tupiza concerned this "high road". How would we know where to find it? How long was it? We came away with the gist of where the road was -- somewhere near Cerillos -- but disagreed on the details.
Now, three days out of Tupiza, we began to reach important junctions but could not agree on which roads to take. We had camped at a junction where a sign said San Pablo to the right, Ca(something) to the left.
On the morning of the third day out of Tupiza we had to decide whether to take the road clearly marked "San Pablo" or the one marked Ca(something). San Pablo was our destination, but we were anxious to take the "high road" to reach it.
In the event, we decided to take the road marked San Pablo, and expected very shortly to hit a place called Cerillos.
Instead, after 17 kilometres, we came upon only a few lonely settlements. The people there told us Cerillos was just around the corner.
Hence we continued on our road -- which soon turned into a pass ... which did not summit but kept climbing, completing a 360-degree turn around a mountain. So we called it Paso 360.
Paso 360
It wasn't long before we realised that not only had we missed Cerillos, we had also inadvertantly wound up on the high road -- without the benefit of taking on extra water and food. We had food and water enough for one day, but San Pablo would be a big trip to make in one day.
View south from Paso 360
This road was called the High Road for good reason. For one thing, it just kept going up. But it also came through with amazing views. We were as high as anything for miles off into the horizon.
Skeleton Crest
Around 4400 metres the road levelled off. I could see some curious type of sign or vehicle off to the right ahead. The closer we got, the clearer it became: wreckage of a lama skeleton. Rather, two skeletons -- two skulls juxtaposed and a giant rib cage.
We were definitely on the high road and, for now, the road actually seemed to be at a crest. We could see nothing higher around us, except for far off in the distance.
The road left this high area and dipped down into a valley, before rising again and heading for higher country still.
Santa Isabel junction
Then we hit the rarest of all finds -- a sign with distances. It was a junction for a road down to a mine. The sign, painted onto a rock, said clearly that San Pablo was 30 kilometres, taking the righthand fork. Of course, that way lay higher country.
We set off anew and climbed, higher and higher. To our left a fabulous view of the highest mountains in this area. Up here the vicuna were startled by our presence. They ran ahead of us on the road and dropped down practically sheer faces of slopes. We had not seen a person all day, and we got the impression they didn't see many either.
We climbed until the road came to a crest, where the wind beat down on us. We put on the shells and had a look at the way forward. It seemed the road would dip and then climb a steep face ahead of us. San Pablo must lie behind the broad, circular rim there.
In the event, the road took a different route -- to the left, near a mine called Santa Isabel. We hunkered down and follwed the road around a mountain, climbing once again. We saw above us a saddle; beyond this for certain we'd see San Pablo.
It wasn't so. At the saddle the road jogged to the left a bit, and then ascended some switchbacks. There was no point in whining about the turn of fate, we could only continue. We were keen as hell to make it close to San Pablo. At least we'd only have one night without food, and we would make San Pablo in time for breakfast the next day.
That uphill segment came to a vista. The pass! Or not? We held off the celebrations. Let's go another 100 metres up here and see if the road is hiding another pass above us. We went 100 more metres and the road did no such thing. This was the top.
Paso Santa Isabel (looking west)
Even though light was quickly fading, we decided we make a dash for San Pablo. This involved an economical use of the brakes -- and a faster descent than called for by the fading light.
The horizontal light made for stunning scenes. But this quickly disapperared, and we were cycling on fumes of light. At speeds that seemed pretty imprudent. Amazingly, neither of us fell off the bike. All of a sudden -- in darkness -- we spied lights rising up from below us. San Pablo.
We reached the town to find a sizable river blocking our way. Amazing. This day just wasn't going to be easy or end easy. A bridge was under contruction but nowhere near being across the river. We pushed the bikes into the delta and approached the water. There were single 2x4 beams pitched across branches of the streams. We rolled out on them, waving up and down over the water. It required maximum attention.
Once in town there was darkness. There was no electricity, just a few windows lit with candles or batteries. Locals directed us to the hospedaje.
I knocked on the nondescript, unmarked door and waited in darkness.
After a while the door opened. A man pushed his way past the woman who'd opened it. He stumbled into the street and slurred some words, reeking of alcohol. Brice and I have been harassed by drunks too often. Foreigners seem to be a favourite target for them. This man -- like others we'd seen along the way during this trip -- was blotto, and in an unpleasant, teetering-on-agressive manner.
We walked away immediately, ignoring him and determined to find another place to stay. We realised after much inquiry that there was no place else. A young guy on a bike understood our predicament, and led us into the hospedaje through the back gate, avoiding the drunk. The hotel owners prepared some food for us. By the time it was ready, the drunk was incapacitated.
Bellies full, we retired to our room and surrendered to exhaustion.
People often ask how much distance one covers in a day of cycling. Expedition cyclists know the answer varies hugely, based on the terrain, topography and road surface. The 76 kilometres we rode today were probably twice the effort of the 130 we did crossing Paso Agua Negra back in Chile.
| Landmark |
time* |
temp
(°C) |
odometer
(kms) |
altitude
(m)** |
| Camp |
9:30 am |
20 |
0 |
4163 |
| High Plain |
10:28 am |
23 |
13 |
4045 |
| Llama Camp |
11:04 am |
23 |
17 |
3978 |
| Paso 360 (viewpoint) |
12:33 pm |
23 |
25 |
4276 |
| Foot of Skeleton Crest |
1:40 pm |
27 |
31 |
4305 |
| Skeleton Crest |
2:19 pm |
21 |
33 |
4392 |
| Vicuna Gulley |
3:10 pm |
21 |
41 |
4171 |
| Santa Isabel junction |
3:36 pm |
21 |
43 |
4300 |
| Paso Occidente |
4:28 pm |
17 |
48 |
4480 |
| Paso Santa Isabel |
5:45 pm |
11 |
59 |
4615 |
| San Pablo de Lipez |
7:30 pm |
15 |
76 |
4117 |
Read the day's journal entry