Intro
I rolled out of Chuquicara this morning with a heavy sky pressing down and my chain finally running silent after a quick clean. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, and the road ahead promised the jagged, narrow geometry of the Cañón del Pato. My mood was a mix of curiosity and low-level anxiety about the 2,100 meters of climbing Komoot had predicted.
The Tunnels and the River’s Roar
- By 10:00 AM, I was officially inside the throat of the canyon. The first few hundred meters were a mess of aggressive gravel and deep potholes that had me worried about my pace, but the surface quickly smoothed out into mostly reliable pavement. The real stars of the morning were the tunnels—ten raw, hand-carved ribs of rock that felt like portals into the mountain’s marrow. Inside these unlined passages, the hollow roar of the Rio Santa below amplified into a deafening, metallic thrum that vibrated through my handlebars. It was impossible to see the floor clearly, so I just gripped the hoods and pedaled toward the circle of light at the far end.
- The air inside the tunnels was heavy with the cold, damp scent of wet stone, a sharp contrast to the dry heat of the canyon floor. Every time I emerged, I had to wipe a layer of gritty silt from my teeth, a fine rock dust kicked up by the occasional passing truck. I realized early on that Komoot’s elevation mapping was wildly off; the river was flowing against me, but the gradient was gentle. The 700-meter ‘ghost’ climb I had been dreading didn’t exist. This realization shifted my entire mental state from a survival grind to a steady, rhythmic progress.
Fueling for the Final Ascent
- Lunch was a matter of necessity over choice. I skipped a questionable-looking spot only to find the next one didn’t exist, eventually settling into a roadside shack at noon for a plate of Lomo de Pollo. I was so hungry I probably would have eaten the table, but the chicken was solid. I asked for an extra side of rice to go, packing it away in a container for whatever ’emergency’ the evening might throw at me. The afternoon turned cloudy, which was a relief for my skin, though the colors of the canyon walls continued to shift from deep ochre to sandy greys as the rock formations changed shape.
- At 4:40 PM, I hit the only legitimate wall of the day: a 5-kilometer climb toward Yuracmarca. I pulled over at the base to fuel up, shoving three mini bananas, handfuls of trail mix, and a sticky alfajor into my mouth. The manjar blanco in the biscuit gave me the sugar spike I needed. As I ground my way up the switchbacks, the river became a thin silver thread far below. I reached Yuracmarca an hour later, the smell of woodsmoke and frying meat from the local restaurants tempting me to stop, but I looked at the clock and decided I had more in the tank.
The Orange Sky and the Dark Finish
- I bypassed Yungay Pampa at 6:00 PM because it looked desolate, and that’s when the sky decided to put on a show. Behind the jagged south walls of the canyon, the clouds turned into feathery streaks of fiery orange. The light caught the edges of the cliffs, turning the entire gorge into a glowing furnace for about twenty minutes. I found myself riding with my mouth open, trying to track the way the shadows swallowed the canyon floor while the peaks stayed illuminated in that strange, bruising light. It was a visceral race against the sun, and for once, I didn’t mind the effort.
- The last thirty minutes into Huallanca were a total blackout. I flicked on my lights, the beam cutting through the darkness and highlighting the gritty silt still swirling in the air. I rolled into town at 7:15 PM, my legs finally feeling the weight of the 67 kilometers. I found a modern-looking hostel for 35 soles—a steal for how clean it was—and hauled my gear inside. There was no juice to be found in the village at this hour, so I sat on the edge of the bed and mixed my leftover lunch rice with mustard, a can of grated fish, and some trail mix. It wasn’t a culinary masterpiece, but it was the fuel I needed to stop the shaking in my hands.
Overnight
I stayed at a modern hostel in Huallanca for 35 soles. It was surprisingly quiet and gave me the space to spread out my gear and prep my high-calorie ‘hiker’s bowl’ for dinner.
Reflection
Komoot’s elevation errors can be a massive psychological advantage when the actual road turns out to be flatter than the map.
Route summary
- Date: 2026-04-24
- Distance: 67.51 km
- Elevation gain: 1411 m
- Elevation loss: 539 m
- Duration: 9 h 59 min
- Time in Motion: 6 h 34 min
- Average Speed: 10.3 km/h