Trip Report Ten:
La Paz
May 6 - May 16
see pictures from this trip report
Trip Report Ten:
see pictures from this trip report
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May 6 - I return from Oruro to La Paz by bus with my bike trailer and gear. May 7 - I am back in La Paz and I shop
til I drop in the shops on the narrow tourist streets of Sagarnaga,
weaving through hordes of textile-hungry, spanish-butchering foreigners.
I also search the entire city of La Paz for appropriate malaria prophylaxis
and find that it is not easy to come by. The pharmacies have none, the
clinics have none, and noone seems able to refer me to a place where
the drugs are available. Finally I locate some chloroquine tablet (inadequate
for the parts of the Amazon where I am destined) at the Ministerio de
Salud. They friendly staff gives me the largely ineffective pills for
free.
May 8 - For three days I am waivering,
but at last I succumb. I decide I MUST climb Illimani, the beautiful
6000 meter peak that stares at me mockingly every time I visit La Paz.
There is a nearly full moon and I have lugged my crampons and axe over
too many hundreds of kilometers of salt flats to not give it a go. Though
none of my efforts to find climbing partners for Illimani have panned
out, I find cheap, convenient transportation headed towards the trailhead
to pick up a guided group. The four-hour jeep ride takes me to the roadhead
at Estancia Una and I set out for the three hour approach hike to Campamento
Base. En route I meet a young man named Mario in the hick community
of Pinaya. He unsolicetedly tells me that he is a mountain guide, owns
all his own gear, and would like to accompany me on my climb (as a friend,
not a guide). He also says that he can find me plastic boots in exactly
my size. This is great news because my leather boots have seen much
better days. We agree to meet the next morning very early at base camp
for the climb up to Nido de Condores camp.
May 9 - Mario shows up and I try on his
boots -- a perfect fit. The hike up to Nido de Condores is great fun
and involves cramponing up a snow ridge for more than 500 vertical meters.
Illimani has no excrutiatingly long approaches, permit hassles, or infinite
talus slogs. It is thus infinitely more enjoyable than Aconcagua or
Ojos! Mario and I arrive at Nido de Condores (5400 meters) at 1:00 PM
and wait out the afternoon and chowing down and trying not to burn the
snow too badly.
May 10 - After a cold, uncomfortable sleep
in my miniscule tent, we emerge for our 3:45 departure under three quarters
moon. The exposed snow ridge is great fun and is followed by some steeper
slopes (up to 55 degrees). Snow conditions are fantastic, crevasse danger
is negligible (early season), and we never even need to rope up. We
top out on the Illimani south peak (6439 meters) at 6:45 AM, a lightning
average pace of more than a thousand vertical feet per hour. The view
to the east towards the Yungas is obscured by clouds, but the altiplano
and Sajama are perfectly clear. The descent is easy and we arrive back
at Pinaya (3000 meters below) shortly after noon. Mario offers me a
beer at his house and I give him some cold-weather mountain clothing
in exchange for his company (and borrowed boots). After the rest, I
head down to the roadhead to camp at catch the next morningīs 8:00 AM
bus to La Paz. During the descent I encounter two youngsters who do
NOT ask me for candy or chocolate. It is truly a great day! These are
the FIRST kids out of more than about 50 encountered beneath Illimani
who do not appear to be candy grubbers! Candy handouts are solicited
by children of all ages in many mountain valleys throughout South America,
but the Illimani approach is extreme. Here, the majority of the children
simply stand in the path with outstretched palms, murmuring hypnotically,
īdulce, gringo.ī No preamble, predecessory small talk, or īpor favors.ī
Some adults have even taken to the annoying pasttime of asking for sweets.
I am so pleased at my two children who havenīt asked me for anything
that I almost give them the rest of my chocolate.
May 11 - I am awake a little after midnight listening to rain on my tent. A little later I fall asleep, only to be awoken later by lightning. It is amusing at first, but I begin to worry when the traveltime between lightning and thunder falls to less than one second. I am camped on the summit of a denuded little hillock (the rest of the land all being intensely farmed) and the thunder is literally shaking my tent. In a fit of panic, I eject my metal pots, stove, and ice axe from the domocilio. Because I am convinced that I will probably die tonight, I rush to put on my underwear and shorts (normally I sleep in the buff, but I decide that the local campesinos should discover me as a non-nude gringo cadaver). After an interminable 15 minutes, the storm recedes far enough away so that I can contemplate a fitful sleep. May 12 - I wait at the road junction for the 8:00 AM and 10:00 AM buses to not show up. At 11:00 AM, some of the prospective passengers hear (via radio) that the bus drivers have called a strike in La Paz. There will be no transportation to La Paz today. Several of the prospective passengers are also desperate to reach the city and we set off together towards another road junction with potential for more public transportation. It is a brisk 15 kilometer walk and 1200 meter descent through farmlands and fresh mud. We arrive at the new roadhead and wait three hours before the passage of the first vehicle. It is one hundred percent full, but we board it anyways and begin the excrutiating journey to La Paz. The new passengers (including me) are seated atop burlap sacks that are filled with potatoes and jammed a meter-and-a-half high throughout the entire aisle. The ride is the superlative of all Andean bus rides that I have had the pleasure of experiencing... It is the most jampacked with people... It contains the most animals... It is the smelliest (thanks in part to me)... The road has the most opportunities for a bus to plummet from inconceivable precipices... It has the loudest volume Aymara music... And its passengers have the most suckling babies per nipple... The list goes on. May 13 - I am beat after the Illimani descent and a late saturday night in La Paz. Time for a rest day and internet. . May 14 - A little diaharrea convinces me to remain another day in La Paz. I fix up my bike which I should have done the day before. May 15 - Finally it is time to leave La
Paz. To escape the traffic, I take the taxi to the toll booth at the
city limit (10 kilometers from the yuppy community of Sopacachi where
I am staying). From here it is another 15 paved kilometers (and 800
vertical meters) to the La Cumbre Pass (4750 meters). At the pass there
is snow on the ground, the wind is howling, and sleet is in the air.
It is absolutely magnificent. Ahead of me to the east is the 3400 vertical
meter descent into the tropics otherwise known as the īmost dangerous
road in the world.ī It receives this menacing title because of the narrow,
precipitous, gorge-hugging nature of the unsurfaced road. For a 30 kilometer
stretch, it is one lane only. Vehicles headed downhill are obliged to
remain cliffside (left side of road) and use the many turnouts -- precarious
perches located atop thousand-meter-high cliffs. I have been told that
a vehicle goes off the cliff edge nearly once every two weeks during
some seasons. Two weeks ago, an Israeli cyclist added to the death toll
by plunging off the precipice. Despite its horrific reputation, I find
that the La Paz-Coroico road is in quite good shape, seems relatively
safe, and is a hell of a lot of fun. The waterfalls which plummet onto
the road from the cliffs above are especially neat. Four hours after
leaving La Cumbre, I am at the roadīs low point at Yolosa (1300 meters).
From here it is an excrutiatingly steep 600 meter ascent (in seven short
kilometers) to the pleasant touristy town of Coroico. I am bathed in
sweat as I reach the central plaza, but am saved by a tout who drags
me off to the palatial gringo commune known as La Esmeraldas. It has
fantastic view, a beautiful swimming pool, and an all-you-can-eat buffet
dinner. I could ask for almost nothing more.
May 16 - To cycle northwards OR spend the day swimming and eating.... The pool wins. I decide to spend a day poolside in Coroico. Tomorrow I will go north to do battle with the Bolivian jungle. |
