Travelling with Clifford through Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, and beyond...

I have been on the move since the last blog from Lima, Peru. I did indeed trade out my beard and boots for board shorts and Clifford, the big red surfboard (named after the big red dog that always seems to get into precarious situations and adventures). I spent the first three weeks of April surfing my way up the coast of Peru. The first wave I caught (barely) was at a break called Chicama, which breaks for almost a mile and is claimed to be the longest left breaking wave in the world. There are actually rickshaw mototaxis on the beach to shuttle you back to the start of the wave. I opted to walk and try to rest my tired arms.

After three weeks of surfing everyday, I somehow managed to strain something in my chest that made it hurt to lie on the surfboard, so Clifford and I headed inland and crossed the border into Ecuador. I visited a handful of wonderful places as I made my way slowly north, eventually crossing the equator. I saw everything from bullfights to large indigenous markets to isolated alpine lakes to beautiful cathedrals to exploding volcanoes. After having the best ice-cream in all of Ecuador – there is a lot to choose from- I made my way into Colombia.

The first person I met after crossing into Colombia told me that Colombia is a country of a thousand colors… they just all happen to be different shade of green. Colombia sees very little tourism as there is still a stigma that hangs over this complicated country. There is a civil war being fought here, but you would never know it. The people are the most friendly I have met in all my travels and they have salsa (music) running through their veins. I spent the next couple weeks traveling north on my way to Cartagena on the Caribbean. As I swam in the warm crystalline waters and napped in a hammock, Patagonia and the beginning of my travels seemed a long way away…

In Cartagena, I had a serendipitous run in with a captain of a 44 foot sailboat headed to Panama and jumped on board two days later. My time in South America had all too quickly disappeared as the Colombian coast faded away and we made the 36 hour push to the beautiful San Blas archipelago south of Panama. We spent four days among the some 365 islands (some literally have a single palm tree on them) snorkeling, fishing, and making new friends.

Today I am in Panama City on the Pacific side of skinny Panama. I went and visited the marvel of the Panama Canal this morning and will likely push off tomorrow as my days of traveling are coming to an end. I will look for some more waves to surf along the Pacific if my chest can handle it and make my way back to the motherland from Costa Rica at the end of May.

I hope you are all well and I look forward to seeing you and hearing from you as I get settled back into Boulder and start a new chapter in business school…

Much love to all!

Clean shaved and loving the beach and beautiful sunsets in Pacasmayo, Peru.

First wave that I caught after buying Clifford, the big red surfboard.

There are a few (billion) bananas in Ecuador. Indiginous market outside Alausi.

Turning old bus tires into bowls and wash basins is a lucrative business...

The pancho, wool hat, and rubber gum boots are signature apparel in Ecuador.

This pig was the biggest I have ever seen and was selling for $600, by far the most expensive animal at this early morning animal market in Otovalo, Ecuador.

The Saturday market in Otovalo is the largest in Ecuador. If you can´t find something here, you are not going to find it anywhere...

Volcan Tungurahua (16,552 ft) has been blowing ash for over a decade and the town of Banos far below has come to terms with it... and also built a road for quick evacuation.

Bullfight in Riobamba, Ecuador.

The gargoyles of this beautiful Basilica in Quito, Ecuador are all animals only found on the Galopagos islands. Cool touch.

Middle of the world. Funky little museum that does little experiments for tourists that can only be seen at the equator, like seeing water flushed counter clockwise, clockwise, and with no whirlpool at all... or standing an egg easily on a nail... cool!

Clifford and I crossing into Colombia...

Popayan, the "white city", has kept its Colonial character since 1537.

High above Bogota, Colombia, as the suns rays shone down on this sprawling and lively city.

Melody, my trusty transport from Cartagena, Colombia to Portobelo, Panama.

Sunrise soak in the San Blas islands.
The Kuna are the native people of the San Blas and the kids are always the first to welcome you when you arrive.


More headstand fun. Sunset in the San Blas islands.

Captain Jota. Best watch out!


The textbook island. One of 365 in the San Blas Archapelago.

Walking in the Rain- Andean PERU!!!

... So I forgot to check and see what the weather was like in Peru this time of year! March is pretty much the heart of the rainy season in the highlands of Peru. But that hasn’t slowed me down too much. After spending a few days hanging out in the happening tourist mecca of Cuzco, I set off on my own on an alternative route to Machu Picchu called Salkantay since the Inca Trail has become quite expensive and requires going through an agency.

This route starts and ends in lush and warm climates and in the middle there is a 15,000+ foot pass near the monolithic Cerro Salkantay(20,670 feet). On the bus ride I met a local who had a Denver Broncos jacket on and he gave me all kinds of useful information about the trail and people he knew along the way. In fact, I never had to use the topo map I bought as the kind camposinos headed up to their remote and rustic homes always seemed to be conveniently at every fork in the trail to point me in the right direction. There is almost no tourist activity right now so I really had this (wet and muddy) place to myself. I luckily saw Salkantay, but only for a few minutes before it went behind the clouds and the rain kicked in. Carrying a heavy pack in severe rain, deep mud, and high altitude wore me out a bit, but after 4 days, I made it to the last leg of the journey where you walk 12 km along a tranquil train track that sees one train per day (that I purposefully missed) ending in Aguas Calientes, the gateway to Machu Picchu.

I spent the next day exploring Machu Picchu, a true marvel that is perched on a cliffed out mountaintop. I got there early before the hoards of tourists showed up in buses that wind up the curvacious road from Aguas Calientes far below. The Incas did a stand up job building this sacred site as the terraces, aqueducts, and beautiful stone work abound. Waynapicchu, a steep mountain with its own ruins was a highlight to climb and view Machu Picchu far below.

After a few days back in Cuzco drinking copious amounts of fresh juice at the central market and visiting the Sacred Valley with my Broncos buddy, Yuri, I flew up to Lima, a booming metropolis of 12 million on the dry coast. After 24 hours of city life and clothes washing, I took an overnight bus to Huaraz. This is the gateway to the second highest mountain range in the world, the Cordillera Blanca, and the Cordillera Huahuash, her more remote and rough little brother.

I spent the next two weeks backpacking through these two ranges, first with a brother and sister from Chicago and then in the Huahuash with a 55 year old camposino named Sobino and his horse Picaflores named for his tendency to run off and chase lady horses. Although I got knocked around by the weather, I got a great taste of the beauty and magnificence of this area. I am already devising a 12 day trek in the years ahead in the Huahuash that will include a donkey train carrying everything from live chickens to cold beer, spectacular views, high (16,500 ft) mountain passes, 3 hot springs, nearly untouched lakes and rivers for fly-fishing, and much more if you are interested.

So now I am back in Lima and about trade out my boots and backpack for flip flops and a surfboard. The Peruvian coast is world famous for its long and uncrowded breaks. So I am off... dude... Surf’s Arriba! Much Love to ALL!

I met Yuri on the bus to start my trek to Machu Picchu and he gave me all sorts of useful info. He ended up spending a day showing me all around the Sacred Valley outside of Cuzco when I got back from Machu Picchu. I would never have met him if it weren´t for the jacket... Go Broncos.

















Salkantay (20,670 feet) peeking out of the clouds for a mere 2 minutes. Enough to make me go "oh my!"














On the 15,000+ foot pass with quite the view. A camposino crossing with his train of donkeys was nice enough to take my photo with Salkantay in the background. I will just photoshop it in when I get home.












Happy to have missed the train, I walk the remaining 12 km to Machu Pichu with a Canadian I met at the train station and convinced to walk with me.


















Incredible rock work at Machu Picchu. They had geometry and gravity (intricate canal systems) figured out...




















Machu Picchu with Waynapicchu in the background.















Early morning atop Waynapicchu, a steep mountain high above Machu Picchu. Fit tourists make the climb for the amazing views. I didn´t see very many Americans!!!













Stairway to Heaven high on Waynapichu. One step more and you drop off about 1000 feet. No handrails back then either...



















High up on the top of Waynapicchu.
















Yep, I did it again...

















Yury, my buddy and private guide of the Sacred Valley outside of Cuzco. Go Broncos!














Huaraz, Peru frisbee club. I was lucky enough to be in town on a Friday when they play and drink chicha instead of gatorade.













Santa Cruz Trek in Cordillera Blanca
















Gavin taking in the view as we head up to Punta Union high in the Cordillera Blanca.















Punta Union in Cordillera Blanca, 15,180 feet.















Mudslides can slow the ride into the Cordillera Huahuash... they fit 21 inside this van and two rode on top with all the bags and live chickens since this is pretty much the only car that passes through all day.


















The 4 foot, 4 inch gate keeper of Mahuay, a small town in the Cordillera Huahuash only accesible by foot, whether it be your own or a donkey´s.




















Round one on Rondoy Pass in the Cordillera Huahuash, 15,675 feet. Pelting ice rain greeted me and followed me all the way down to the lakes far below.



















Round 2 on Rondoy Pass at 5:30 the next morning. I forgot my Leatherman far below on the other side the day before where we had lunch. I told Sobino that I would wake up at 4 AM and if it was cloudless (we had been in a raincloud for the past 2 days), I would go back and get it. Needless to say the stars were out and so were the sillouttes of the 20,000 foot peaks surrounding us!















Sure enough, my Leatherman was patiently awaiting my return on the other side of the pass as the sun rose on the Huahuash...













Third time is a charm! Back on the high Rondoy pass for a perfect view of the surrounding peaks.

Finally, I get a taste of the beautiful Cordillera Huahuash. Morning light on Paso Rondoy looking out on Cerro Rondoy and others.

Sobrino, the man in his backyard of the Huahuash. This 55 year old native of the area made a great companion for 5 days.

BOLIVIA

After the surreal Salar de Uyuni, I jumped on a train and then a bus and headed for the breathtaking (literally) and wild capital city of La Paz, elevation 12,078 feet. This city is all about the street markets. Grocery stores and corner markets are replaced by people stacked up along streets selling whatever they can peddle- talk about entrepreneurialism! I spent two days just walking the city and seeing what the 1.5 million residents are up to. It was a little shocking, sometimes disheartening and sometimes inspiring, and full-on sensory overload.

Then I signed up for a full day descent by bike of the "world’s most dangerous road." Until last year when a new road was built, this stretch of road that drops over 11,800 feet into the Bolivian jungle caused more fatalities than any other road in the world. There was plenty of room to stay away from the edge on a bike, but when two buses are passing, it is a different story. Needless to say, I survived and collected my complimentary t-shirt to prove it.

Next, I headed to the small little town of Sorata thanks to the recommendation of a good friend. This town is usually about 5 hours away (for me it was 9 thanks to a flat tire and a lot of rain on a dirt road) and hangs on to the steep mountains that linger above. I wanted to do some backpacking is this area, but quickly learned that the rainy season limits your options. But I just as soon ran into a young local named Felix that said he would guide me (going alone was not really not an option as trails are unmarked and go in every direction- including straight into a cloud) high up into the mountains above to visit his small town and some lakes and glaciers for the next 3 days. The price was right so we agreed to meet early the next morning...

...Well overnight he got sick and in the morning I was met by his father, Hilarion, who told me he would be my guide. It couldn’t have worked out better. For the next three days, I followed him and his mule around and got a glimpse of the rural and high (his home was perched at 13,200 feet) Bolivian life. This 60 year man could climb up and skip down uneven trails like a mountain goat, all while tugging on his mule and wearing rubber sandals. I got to stay at his home for two nights and meet his wife who didn’t speak spanish. The local language is Aymara, and spanish is a second language spoken by the "city folk." Lot’s of rain, but that meant more time in his humble home talking about life and the differences and similarities we shared. Boulder seemed really far away as I sipped coco tea and ate boiled potatoes.

Lastly, I headed to Lago Titicaca, the largest lake in South America, and a place steeped in the roots of the Incan culture. I spent a day walking along to the lakes shore from Copacabana to Yampapata, where I jumped in a tiny boat and cruised over the Isla de Sol- the birthplace of the sun. I spent the night on the island and spent the next day visiting the Incan historical sites, including the sacred rock that gave birth to the sun and the sacrificial table where a fair amount of blood has been spilled over the years. Now people stop and have a snack there.

So now I am in Cuzco, Peru after a bus ride that has a story better fit to be told with a beer in hand. I am going to do an alternative 4 day route to Machu Pichu starting tomorrow that steers clear of the crowds that do the Inca Trail. But that story will have to wait until my next entry...

Much love to all!





Arriving into sprawling La Paz, set at a mere 12,078 feet.


Everywhere you go, there are the "shoeshine boys," wearing robbers mask hats and pleading to give you a shine. This girl was too cute not to sneak a photo.
Whole Foods, La Paz style...

Produce...


Carving out a lamb brain while talking about the La Paz weather.



On bikes, you can steer clear of the edge...


I didn´t take this photo, but it gives appreciation of the danger element of this "highway."
Flat tire on the way to Sorata. Nothing out of the ordinary.

My guide Hilarion, above his pueblo in the high Bolivian mountains- Lago Verde, around 14,000 feet.

Hilarion´s wife cooking up a meal in her "kitchen." Lots of potatoes. The compost went to the little rabbits they were raising under their bed (from where I took the photo).

Hilarion skipping his way back down to Sorata to drop off the gringo, before heading 6000 feet back home for dinner.
Lonely tree on a small island on Lake Titicaca.
Sacrificial Inca Table on Isla de Sol. I stopped to make a avocado sandwich. A local said no offense would be taken.

Sunset over Lake Titicaca above Copacabana, Bolivia.