The Canon del Pato

I don’t normally prefer coastal resorts but Huanchaco appeals to me. Perhaps it’s the stark contrast of mountains against the cool coastal desert or maybe it’s just the tranquillo setting and laid back attitude of its inhabitants that does it for me. Whatever it is, after two months of riding in the mountains I welcome the change in scenery. When I expect to stay in any one place for an extended period of time I make sure to find a hostal that has those little comforts I’ve come to appreciate on the road. Secure parking for the bike, hot water, wifi, and easy on the wallet, Hostal Naylamp fits the bill. The stage is set for some much needed down time but unfortunately Huanchaco will be remembered for where I get my first cold of the trip, and worst of all, where my mac book dies. I don’t get sick very often but when I do it’s a rough go, this time will be no different. After some minor bike maintenance and several days of suffering the rigors of full on sinus and chest congestion I decide to make for Huaraz which will take me through the Canon del Pato. Or what I will remember as the Great Phlegm Ride.

The Canon del Pato (Duck Canyon) was formed by the Rio Santa and is where the Cordillera Negra and Cordillera Blanca meet. The two ranges are as close as 20 feet in certain places in the canyon which serves as the northern entrance for the Callejon de Huaylas that will lead me to Huaraz. The road is heavily wash boarded and rife with pot holes and the vibration felt on the bike quickly dispatches the safety wire repair I made to the gps mount. Traffic in the canyon is relatively light the day I roll through with an occasional tour bus, some trucking, and local traffic serving the hydroelectric plant at Huallanca. The plant is constructed entirely inside the mountain which I find curious considering a 1970 earthquake in the area caused catastrophic damage burying the town of Yangay and killing twenty thousand people. I would have done more exploring in the area but with a helmet full of snot and gps flopping about I was compelled to make time through the canyon.

I arrive in Huaraz with oozing fork seals, broken gps mount, and a snot crusted face. The city sits at 10 thousand feet and is cold and rainy, perfect conditions for someone with a cold. In spite of feeling like shit I manage to get out and meet some folks, most importantly I befriend Ying, the owner of a moto shop who happens to be a machinist of sorts. We tap the bolt that snapped off in the Enduro Engineering mount and I get it all buttoned up with fresh loctite and ready for the next barrage of washboarded road. Huaraz, like many of the cities I’ve visited on this trip, is under major reconstruction so many of the streets are tore up and under a layer of mud. I like Huaraz and rest here for a few days while getting the bike ready for the next leg of high mountain offroading where I will visit the Chavin ruinas via the Huascaran National Park and then on to Huanuco, after getting lost and running out of fuel at 15 thousand feet no less.