Our bags were packed, chains lubed, tires checked, and we were actually leaving.  It was hard to believe.  We had been stuck in this Peruvian time vortex for so long.  Finally we had gotten to the point where we get to use the bikes for what we had bought them for.  And off we went.  I was slightly sad to leave Huanchaco.  I had began to feel like a local, but I knew I didn't belong there.  Boredom comes easily to me, and I always have had a thirst travelling, which has become the foundation of my life.  So the we rode to the Pan-American highway and I left this small, strange town behind.

The Pan-American wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.  It was actually quite easy.  If cars got backed up in the chaos of the road, it was easy to hit the shoulder of the road and leave them behind.  We passed many tourist busses and I realized began to realize how much faster and better motorcycle travel through Peru is.  It actually seems safer then in a car.  If needed the shoulder of the road was always there.  And the scenery was incredible.

As soon as we left the outskirts of Trujillo behind it turned into a barren, and seemingly lifeless (though I know better then that) dessert.  There was nothing but sand, rocks, small mountains made of sand, and dunes.  Occasionally, when we would rise up in elevation, I could see the ocean off in the distance.  The beaches looked desolate and incredible.  There will be a time in the not to distant future we will be camping on beaches like these, but know we must head to the thin air in cold and rainy mountains.

Before I knew it, I was feeling at one with the bike.  It's interesting looking at your how much mileage is on your bike and knowing exactly how much experience you have riding.  Evidently it only takes 1000k of riding in the sand and pavement until it becomes an extension of your body.  I've had enough risk-management training to know that this can also be a bad thing so I remained cautious.  Although on the straight portions of road my mind began to wonder away with the roar of the engine.  "I wonder what kind of projects I'll be on at work this coming season..." Then my mind refocuses on the road as a turn approaches.  "I wonder if that girl has been thinking about me as much as I have been thinking about her..."  I guess I should pass this bus.  "Will we ever make it out of Peru..." I better get some speed up for this hill.  "I can't seem to remember how much water expands when it freezes..." Wow the scenery is changing drastically.

As soon as we turned of onto the road to Huaraz, things became barren.  The landscape reminded me of Death Valley in California.  Eventually we went over our first pass with switchbacks.  It was a blast weaving through this paved piece of civilization, which was the only sign of human altercation around. I was slightly afraid that we had taken the wrong road and were going to have to back track, but as soon as we got to the foothills we stopped at a fruit stand and got some food.  For 2 soles (80 cents) we got two mangos, two strange giant bean pods which had this ice cream tasting fleshy stuff inside, and two avacados.  We were eating right next to the stand when the lady working sent a man over to hand us two more avacodos and two more mangos.  For 80 cents it was hard to believe that she was giving us even more food.

We started to climb in altitude and the mountains and green was relieving me of the blandness of the dessert,  This is what I needed, and this is where I belong.  I love the dessert, but I can only spend so long there until I crave the mountains or forests again. The beauty of the mountains comes with a price though, especially on a motorclycle.

Eventually I started to notice that my bike was starting to choke on the thin air.  I stopped a couple times as we rose to make the appropriate adjustments, but my experience with this type of thing is pretty limited.  I got it to where it still had some power, but once we got high enough it just started to put up the mountain.  It also started to rain and get cold.  I had no gloves, since I was coming from a desert town that was 70 degrees year round.  My hands were damn near frost bitten towards then top of the pass.  I stopped multiple times to try to warm them up, but I could only thaw them out so much, just about enough to adjust the carb on my bike.

After about seven hours of riding we got to the top of the pass and could see Huaraz below.  We had almost made it.  Now we just had to coast down from the pass and get to town.  Which with frozen hands we managed to do.  As soon as we got to Huaraz we stopped at Cali Cafe and got some breakfast, at six at night, neither of us had ate anything but fruit all day.

At the Way Inn, I was put back to work, which I had been aching to do something productive.  Me and a fellow from Boston have been building a stone pathway.  It feels good to shake that beach induced laziness that had come over me.

It was raining and I was riding down from the Way Inn.  The road feels more like a rocky river bed then a road.  At points is goes straight down then hairpins along the side of a cliff.  As I ride down the switchbacks I think of the potential dangers (Mom you may want to skip this part):
1. Dogs: At any point a dog is likely to come out of nowhere and try to herd me to the side of the road.  They are herding dogs.  I guess they are just doing their job.  Some people I know just kick them.  I don't have that in me, so I just hit the throttle and out run them.
2. Herds of stock coming off the trails:  Just make sure I watch the side of the road  for cattle, pigs, donkeys, or sheep jumping into the road to cross.
3.Potholes and cliffs:  Don't look behind when outrunning dogs or I may fall into or off of one of these.
There was one thing I hadn't anticipated.

I was riding down and a kid ran across the road behind me.  I went around a switchback and he appears again, but this time puts his hand out in front of me.  I stop and he looks soaked and cold.  He comes over and asks for a ride.  On he hops and I notice he can hardly even touch the foot pegs.  "listo" I ask.  "Si" he responds off we go.  I give him a ride about ten minutes down the road to his adobe house and he hops off.  "They must think us gringos are damn strange" I remember thinking.

On the way back up I came across a small lamb in the middle of the road.  Without even thinking about it I rode behind it.  It ran to the opposite side of the road and I suddenly noticed a rope rise across the dirt and rock filled road.  I didn't even have a chance to hit the breaks.   Luckily though, it was a lamb not a donkey or pig, and the rope that it was tied to was thin.  The rope got caught underneath my handle bars and broke.  I guess I will add this one to the list of hazards.

Lately I have just been hanging out in the mountains working and getting goofy at the Hoff and the Way.  In a week me and Justin are planning on making a trip to Ecuador and stopping in Huanchaco.  I promise myself that no matter what I will only be in Huanchaco for a night or two.