Getting really really high

Looking back on my descriptions of our last pass over the Andes I feel I might have overplayed its difficulties a little. Our crossing this time has taken us 11 days, taking us over three mountains more than 4500metres high and been the hardest 11 days of the trip. Anna has displayed her extensive repertoire of emotions and I have found several that I didn't even know I had.

We set off for four days of undulating dirt road which was terrible in patches, particularly after our weeks of paved luxury. The road wound its way through dozens of obscure little villages, each comprising of half built mud houses and always a beautifully maintained church. For me I would buy myself a door before furnishing my church with an enormous spire, but each to their own.

The fourth morning brought dust storms, which were exciting for around 30 seconds. After that they were just very upsetting as we choked our way blindly across the first open plain in the week. We soon developed the tortoise technique, spotting the approaching dust clouds and retreating into our shells. It was this morning that I did one of the least intelligent things of the week as I attempted to take a picture of the absolutely nothing that we could see. The camera immediately broke (again) and I had an extensive sulk about it for the rest of the morning. We managed to escape to the safety of the mountains by lunch but it felt like we had spent the morning licking bookshelves rather than cycling.

The climb began in earnest the following day, and it was unnerving to notice that it started at the same altitude that we had submitted the previous pass. The road climbed through the valley, and soon we came across our first river crossing. Being the chivalrous man that I am, I decided to get my feet wet. I crossed with each bike, returning for a third time to carry Anna and her bags. I wobbled into the middle of the stream before losing balance, dropping Anna, a bag and losing my shoe. For the rest of the crossings Anna made her own way. We found some ruins to camp inside at a little under 4000metres and donned every item of clothing we could get our hands on.

The next morning I turned the corner to see one of the more unusual sights of the week. Anna's bike lay abandoned in the middle of the road, Anna was in tears hiding behind a laughing goat herder while an Alpaca, towering over both of them tried valiantly to mount my girlfriend. It was only after 10 minutes of attempted escapes that the lady could corner the main offender while we made a hasty retreat, still pursued by some of his more persistent of his friends.

The days climb was painfully slow, the higher we got the more frequent our stops until we were creeping 50 metres at a time before having to stop to catch our breath. We were encouraged upwards by each passing vehicle who stopped to ask the same three questions – Are you ok? Are you crazy? Do you want a lift? To which I thought- not really, possibly and no; just as my mouth uttered the opposite.

We managed to reach the top at 4, the views were spectacular but we had only a few minutes to enjoy them with 45 kilometers to go before nightfall. Unsurprisingly this didn't happen and we made it in to San Antonio de las Cobres well after dark.


I tend not to plan the routes too extensively and it was over the next few days that this became a slight problem. We left town late, feeling sluggish after the previous days exertions. The road started instantly up and it wasn't until around 4 that we realised we weren't going to make it over the mountain before dark so we found some more ruins and huddled up for a freezing evening. The next day never warmed up again, the icy winds springing leaks from our faces as our eyes and noses streamed and our mouths lay open, dribbling constantly with neither of us remotely bothered. We reached the summit of this mountain by the afternoon, having climbed to over 4500metres again, this time without any prior warning.

That night we camped in an outhouse of a police station that protected us from the worst of the cold, temperatures plummet the second the sun goes down. Thawing our waterbottles is the first call of each day. A huge mountain dog began following us as we left in the morning and despite all my efforts I couldn't persuade him to return. With almost no options for food and water out here it doesn't feel great when you accidentally adopt a dog bigger than Anna.

From here we had just one more pass to do but we found that after doing two, its incredibly difficult to get any motivation whatsoever for the third. We chose Paso Sico, the slightly lower and more remote pass that would take us back to Chile. We again managed to get out of the cold as the Argentinian border guards put us up for the night, we each got a bed with our dog sleeping between us.

We began climbing yet again early the following morning, with the dog trailing behind. The scenery was unbelievable, everything at over 4000 metres looks like its on another world. Salt flats, lakes, mountains and just one type of yellow plant that manages to exist in the harsh climate all create a surreal and beautiful landscape. The isolation of these few days was huge, with only one car passing per day we were as far away from people as we have been on the trip.

We made it to the Chilean border post at just below this final pass after battling 3 days of headwinds. Anna was done, and I was done. And so it seems was Benji the dog who, after 90kms following us had arrive home. We didn't have enough food, motivation or time left and we managed to get a lift for around 90kms with some workers heading home. They seemed distinctly uninterested by what is probably the most spectacular commute of all time.

One more night of camping at the comparatively cosy height of 3500 metres and one more day of cycling brought us into San Pedro de Atacama on the border of Bolivia.




We will be tackling South West Bolivia with Dallas for the next three weeks, cycling several more 4000metre peaks as well as the famous salt flats. After that we intend to go to bed for several weeks.