Intro
Huaraz is quiet tonight, save for the occasional bark of a street dog and the distant rumble of a truck on the main drag. Today was a scheduled pause, a day for the legs to recover while the brain wrestled with logistics under a relentless, bright sun. The pavement here is hard and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the dirt tracks of the last week, but it was the perfect stage for a day of chores and calorie-stacking.
The Shalom Foil Fiasco
- My thighs were screaming for a break that didn’t involve a vertical hike, so I started the morning with a simple mission: logistics. I cycled over to Arturo at the Casa Ciclista by 9:00 AM to pick up a parcel I’d sent ahead from Cajamarca. Arturo is a legend in the cycling community, and we spent fifteen minutes leaning against the bike frames, catching up on route conditions. From there, I headed straight to the Shalom delivery office to forward the gear further south. I thought I was being efficient; there were only three people in line ahead of me.
- When I finally reached the counter, the clerk shook her head. My box wasn’t wrapped in stretch foil, which apparently violated a company policy that hadn’t existed when I sent it from the north. I stepped outside to find a man on the sidewalk with a giant roll of plastic. I watched the tacky, clinging pull of the stretch-foil as he mummified my box for five soles. By the time I got back inside, the queue had ballooned to fifteen people. I sat on my haunches, working through Duolingo lessons on my phone, listening to the tacky, clinging pull of the foil being applied to dozen other boxes around me until it was finally my turn again.
Savory Stacks and the Great Lid Hunt
- By 10:45 AM, the banana I’d eaten for breakfast was a distant memory. I retreated to the hostel kitchen and started a marathon pancake session. The first round was savory, stuffed with melted cheese and thick slices of tomato. Once the base layer was established, I moved on to the dessert phase: stacks topped with trail mix, maple syrup, and a mountain of fresh fruit. It was exactly the kind of fuel I’ll need for the three-day stretch toward the Pastoruri Glacier where shops don’t exist.
- After eating, I tackled the gear. I started with my water bottles, which were covered in a gritty smear of dried mud from the previous days’ descents. I took them to the outdoor wash basin first to scrub the exterior before boiling water for the internals. In the process, I managed to lose a lid. I spent twenty minutes in a low-level panic, unpacking every single pannier and tossing my clothes across the room, only to find it sitting right by the basin where I’d first scrubbed that gritty smear of dried mud off the aluminium. It was a frustrating reminder that even on ‘rest’ days, the bike demands total attention.
Digital Housekeeping and the Bakery Crawl
- The afternoon was a blur of digital maintenance and mechanical prep. I spent ninety minutes on the phone with a friend in Germany, then dove into route planning. Someone had sent me an intriguing GPX file for the section after Oyon, and I spent an hour squinting at contour lines and satellite imagery. Between downloads, I took the bike out to the patio for a chain scrub. I worked a rag through the links until the metal shone, replacing the gritty smear of dried mud with a fresh, silent coat of lubricant.
- As evening fell, the scent of warming jam and toasted flour began to drift from the local bakeries, signaling it was time for the final calorie haul. I started with a massive plate of Chicken Milanese for dinner, but the real goal was the dessert crawl. I hit the first bakery for a heavy jam cookie that crumbled the moment I bit into it. Two blocks later, the scent of warming jam and toasted flour led me to a tiny shop where I scored a miniature apple pie. I finished the night at a local grocery store, loading up on three days’ worth of supplies for the remote mountains ahead. I’m back in the room now, bags pre-packed and lights out by 10:30 PM.
Overnight
I stayed at a central hostel in Huaraz (The El Tambo Hostel) because it has a functional kitchen for my pancake obsession and a courtyard for bike maintenance.
Reflection
A logistics day is just a different kind of fatigue; you trade leg cramps for the frustration of bureaucratic queues and lost equipment.