Intro
I’m sitting in my tent tonight, tucked behind four stone walls that don’t have a roof to match. The day started with a heavy breakfast in Huayllay and a paved road that promised speed, but the Andes have a way of taxing you in ways the map doesn’t show. The sun was out, but at this elevation, the heat is a thin lie that disappears the moment you stop moving.
The Quinoa Start and the 120-Meter Mistake
- The morning in Huayllay began with a heavy bowl of chicken in tomato sauce and rice. It’s a strange thing to eat at 8:30 AM, but I’ve learned that the mountain doesn’t care about breakfast norms. I washed it down with a massive jar of quinoa drink, the sweet, earthy scent of the steaming grain clinging to my clothes. It’s a smell I’ve come to associate with the high-altitude starts—dense, warm, and slightly nutty. I finally rolled out at 9:45 AM, feeling heavy but fueled, ready for the three-day push to Lima.
- The pavement was smooth, which felt like a luxury after the gravel of the previous days. I put my head down and climbed. I’d gained 120 meters of vertical elevation over the first two kilometers when I reached for my face and realized it was bare. My glasses were still back at the hotel, likely resting on the loud, multicolored wool blanket of my bed. There is a specific kind of internal groan you make when you realize you’ve just performed a ‘penalty lap.’ I turned the bike around and let gravity take back everything I’d just fought for. By the time I actually cleared the 2km mark for the second time, it was nearly noon.
The Thin Air and the Wind’s Rattle
- By 2:00 PM, I reached a massive laguna that looked like a sheet of hammered silver. I found a cluster of rocks that functioned as a makeshift table and unpacked my lunch: simple bread rolls stuffed with avocado. The sun was bright, but the hollow rattle of the wind against my bike frame kept me from getting too comfortable. That sound—a metallic, lonely vibration—is the constant soundtrack of the Puna. Every time a cloud drifted in front of the sun, the temperature plummeted, and the wind seemed to sharpen its edge.
- The afternoon was a slow-motion struggle. Even on asphalt, 4,600 meters is an environment that demands a specific cadence. I fell into the rhythm of ‘pedal, breathe, pedal, breathe.’ It’s not about speed; it’s about maintaining a heart rate that doesn’t feel like a hammer against my ribs. The views of the surrounding valleys were vast and jagged, but my world had shrunk to the five feet of road directly in front of my tire. The thin air makes everything deliberate. You don’t just move; you negotiate with your lungs for every inch of progress.
The Kitchen Sanctuary and the Roofless House
- I reached my intended camp spot around 5:30 PM. At first, it looked abandoned, just a collection of stone/wood buildings and some very vocal dogs. Then I saw a thin trail of woodsmoke—that same sweet, hazy smell as the morning quinoa—drifting from a chimney. I had to push my bike through a massive herd of alpacas to reach the house. The ground was a minefield of alpaca droppings; they have an oily, thick grit to them that sticks to everything, and they were everywhere. The local family was kind, but I couldn’t face pitching my tent in a field of manure.
- They offered me an unfinished stone house instead. It had four sturdy walls to break the wind but no roof, leaving me a direct view of the darkening sky. It was perfect. Once my tent was up on the patchy grass inside the walls, I asked the woman if I could eat my dinner in her kitchen to escape the biting evening air. She let me in, though she seemed a bit puzzled by the request, and gave me a wooden box to sit on. I sat there in the dim light, smelling the woodsmoke and the damp earth, eating a tin of tuna and five plain bread rolls. It wasn’t fancy, but the wind’s rattle was muffled by the thick stone, and for thirty minutes, I was warm. I crawled into my sleeping bag at 8:30 PM, my eyes heavy before I could even finish my notes.
Overnight
I camped inside an unfinished, roofless stone house on a local alpaca farm. It provided a essential windbreak and a floor free of animal droppings, even if it lacked a ceiling.
Reflection
Backtracking for forgotten gear is a mental tax that hurts more than the physical climb.
Route summary
- Date: 2026-05-19
- Distance: 37.42 km
- Elevation gain: 936 m
- Elevation loss: 567 m
- Duration: 8 h 4 min
- Time in Motion: 3 h 41 min
- Average Speed: 10.2 km/h