Intro
I woke up in my tent in a house with four stone walls and no roof, the Andean air settling over my sleeping bag like a wet sheet. The morning was mostly sunny, but at this altitude, the light doesn’t provide much warmth until the sun is high. Today was all about the transition from the frozen gravel of the high peaks to the paved, oxygen-rich streets of Canta.
Muña Tea and Mountain Fuel
- By 7:15 AM, I had abandoned the roofless shell of my shelter and retreated to the landlord’s restaurant shack nearby. The cold was the kind that makes your joints feel like they’re made of rusted iron. I sat there huddled over a cup of muña tea, letting the sharp, minty scent of the herbs clear my head while the steam worked on thawing my frozen fingertips. It’s a specific kind of relief when you can finally feel the tips of your gloves again.
- The landlord served up a plate of orgullitos with rice—heavy, salty, and exactly what I needed for a day that promised massive energy output. It was so good I ordered a second portion without thinking twice, finishing the meal with a side of choclo con queso. The corn kernels were huge and starchy, the cheese salty enough to wake up my palate. By 9:30 AM, I was back on the bike, hitting a road that was, to my surprise, completely paved.
The Paved Ghost of 2019
- The first 20 kilometers were a series of gentle undulations through a landscape dominated by red and grey rock faces. The blue of the occasional laguna looked almost artificial against the monochromatic peaks. As I rolled toward the Laguna de 7 colores, I felt a strange sense of displacement. I was here in 2019, but back then, the road was a punishing stretch of loose gravel and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Today, I found a row of souvenir shops and a restaurant. The isolation has been paved over.
- It’s a bizarre sensation to ride through a memory that has been physically altered. Where I once struggled for traction on steep dirt turns, I now leaned into smooth asphalt curves. The vista remained the same—layered mountains stacked like cardboard cutouts into the distance—but the grit of the experience has been replaced by the high-speed efficiency of modern infrastructure. I didn’t miss the gravel, but the souvenir stands felt like a glitch in the wilderness.
Forty Kilometers of Gravity
- Then came the descent. For 40 kilometers, I barely had to rotate the pedals. The road winds down through deep canyons, following the natural flow of the rock. The only sound was the constant, aggressive hiss of the wind through the vents of my helmet as I picked up speed. It’s a 2,172-meter drop in total, a vertical distance so massive that the climate shifts around you as you fall. The air gets thicker, the temperature climbs, and the smell of dry earth replaces the scent of snow.
- About 15 kilometers out, Canta appeared in the distance. It started as a tiny cluster of white dots at the bottom of the canyon and grew steadily larger with every hairpin turn. I reached the town by 4:00 PM, which is an incredibly early finish for me. I spent an hour sitting in the main square, eating ice cream in the direct sun and watching the local traffic. After days in the high-altitude silence, the noise of a functioning town felt loud and chaotic.
The Search for a Key
- Finding a place to sleep turned into a logistical puzzle. Most of the hotels near the square had their main doors bolted shut. I spent thirty minutes walking the bike around, calling the phone numbers painted on the doors. I went through five different attempts before a woman answered and agreed to let me in. The room is basic, but it’s a block from the square and has a secure spot for the bike, which is all I care about.
- For dinner, I headed back out at 7:30 PM. I had my heart set on a Nikkei spot I’d heard about, but they were closed. I ended up at a small place on the main road for a bowl of sancocho soup—hot, meat-heavy, and restorative. On the way back, I bought a cup of mazamorra from a street vendor. The thick, gooey texture of the purple corn pudding was the perfect final hit of sugar. I tried to find a mirador I saw on the map, but it turned out to be just a small park with no view. I was back in the room and asleep by 10:00 PM.
Overnight
I stayed at a basic hotel one block from the main square in Canta. It was a ‘closed door’ operation where I had to call a mobile number on the gate to get the owner to come down and let me in, but they provided secure bike storage.
Reflection
A 2,000-meter descent is the easiest way to travel through three different climate zones in a single afternoon.
Route summary
- Date: 2026-05-20
- Distance: 65.86 km
- Elevation gain: 310 m
- Elevation loss: 2172 m
- Duration: 7 h 26 min
- Time in Motion: 3 h 41 min
- Average Speed: 17.9 km/h