One night at the Alpaca-Farm

We got up at 7 AM, reluctant to leave the warmth of our sleeping bags. Both men had been a little cold that night (I was very happy with my choice to buy a new sleeping bag for the trip at this point) and as we left the tent it was clear why: It had frozen that night and the remnants of it were visible with patches of frost still covering the tent, grass, and our bikes.

After getting brain-frost from washing my hair in the mountain river, we had breakfast, packed our belongings and got ready to cycle towards the tiny mountain village of Yuracmayo. For the first time since we started our trip we had a few kilometers of almost level roads which only occasionally had small slopes going up and down. It felt incredibly good to finally cover some kilometers without one of us (usually me) having to stop, gasping for air, every 5 to 15 minutes. Therefore, it felt like we reached Yuracmayo in record time.

It had been our original plan to set up camp next to the laguna, but as we reached Yuracmayo and the laguna (which turned out to be a glorified word for the manmade reservoir it turned out to be) we were thoroughly underwhelmed. It was not even noon yet and none of us fancied staying the night there, so we bought some groceries in the tiny ‘Bodeguita’ for the days to come and decided to cycle up further hoping we would make the pass. And so we set off on the climb out of Yuracmayo.

In all fairness: Göran and Jacques would have made it but after 237 m I realized that I wouldn’t. My legs were tired from all previous days we had only cycled up and since suffering from altitude sickness my eating patterns still hadn’t returned to a healthy amount of food, especially relative to our exertions. It didn’t feel great to be the limiting factor once again but needs must.

We looked for a piece of land that was relatively level and soft to set up our tent. However, the cold winds were so strong that several attempts to set up the tent failed and ended up in it almost flying away several times. Our tent is our home away from home so we didn’t want to risk damaging it and staying in the tent with those fierce gusts simply wasn’t safe for us and our equipment. An alternative had to be conjured up.

The two cars that passed us, despite being driven by very kind and helpful Germans and Swiss citizens, it was obvious that none of them had the capacity to carry three people and their large bikes and bags. So hitching a ride up over the pass was not an option. Hence, with the winds being as strong as they were, we only had two options left:

1. Cycle a couple of hundred meters down the road to the farm we passed on our way up and ask if we could sleep there.
2. Cycle all the strenuously gained altitude meters back down into Yuracmayo and set up our tent on their soccer field.

You can probably guess our preferred option. And so it was that we cycled to the gates of the deserted looking farm and shouted ‘Hola’ high and low until a middle-aged man with a battered hat appeared at the gate. Göran explained our predicament and after consulting with another middle-aged man with kind eyes and a face that was marked by its exposure to the sun, wind, and weather, gave permission. While we had hoped to pitch our tent on the leeward side of one of the farm buildings, we got an even better option: an unused room we could sleep in and that would keep us sheltered from the wind. It was by no means luxurious, but it was warm and safe.

In the late afternoon, while we were preparing our dinner, we heard some strange noises coming from around the corner. When we went to check we saw the familiar stone walls of the paddock but instead of being empty as we knew it, we saw sets of fluffy white ears poking out at the top. Our hopes that this could be our first real-life Alpaca sighting was confirmed when one of them raised its head above the fence in curiosity. We approached and saw the two men at work driving the alpacas from the pastures back into the stables and counting them. It was very interesting to see the men at work and observe the reactions of the animals, who probably underwent this procedure every single evening and yet seemed scared and confused about what was going on.

It was cold in the mountains yet again (I’m pretty sure I haven’t been properly warm since we got into the mountains during daytime) so we quickly got ready for bed after dinner, looking forward to the warmth. That night it took me a long time to fall asleep as I still suffered from light altitude sickness symptoms. As I lay awake and listened to both men snore, I heard the wind fiercely blowing outside and although our accommodation was a very far cry from luxurious, I was very thankful for the kindness and hospitality of the farmers because sleeping in those stormy gusts with the tent would have not been possible. Eventually, I fell asleep as well.

distance cycled: 8.5 km
elevation gain: 234 m
Actual altitude: 4430 m
time cycled: 45 min