"On the Trail"
LaPaz to Oruro (Shauna)
------ Short version ------
To get out of La Paz is a long (10-15 km?) uphill to the altiplano - it takes a little longer if you break a spoke! Leaving mid-day and needing to stop at a bike mechanic to true my wheel (now with one spoke missing), had me camping only a few kms out of La Paz and waking up the next morning to a mini-snow-storm.
In Oruro, after some searching, I found someone to help me take off my cassette and true my wheel (something I haven't mastered!) and wound up in one of the worst "portages" of my journey - dragging, scraping, mucking through the stickiest mud ever - and the local "toss your garbage here"/"latrine" - yuck!! An hour to go 400 meters!
But! As always, one negative experience leads to a string of great connections that wouldn't have occurred otherwise! Tonight I will be catching a train to Uyuni, and tomorrow head out for my last stretch to Chile...
------- Long version --------
Leaving La Paz was a little daunting... When I came into La Paz, I was breathing a sigh of relief - good thing I don't have to come up this loooong hill I'm going down. And guess which way was out? Back up the way I came! As usual, it was bigger in my mind than in reality. The worst part was getting out of the neighbourhood in which I was staying - some short but very steep climbs that left me breathless.
I left mid-day and with the uphill and stopping on the outskirts of La Paz (in the altiplano) to try and change a broken spoke (argh!), I didn't get far. Without the proper "key" to take of the gear cassette, I got a small local bike mechanic to "true" my wheel and kept on going, hoping to find someone who could help me in Oruro.
I woke the next day early (4:30) - eager to get a good start on the day. At the sight of snow falling heavily (almost a mini-blizzard) I snuggled back down into my sleeping bag!! Getting up and at it in the dark and cold is a little tough. Adding snow to the picture diminishes motivation significantly!! At 7:30, I cycled off into the "snow-storm" - at least it was light - and for the rest of the morning debated the importance of cycling this part! At about 1:00 - finally! - the sun came out!
Nearing the end of the day, I figured I could put on another 20-30 kms, leaving about 50 kms for the following morning to Oruro. Not so! It turned black black black overhead, and to the west I could see a heavy rain with lightning fast approaching. I donned my poncho, and got to a gas station about a km after the rain reached me - just enough time to soak my shoes. (One of the only things I worry about is having wet, cold feet. Somewhere along the way I lost the covers I made.)
One of the gas attendants confirmed that in these months, practically every morning they awaken with snow. This piece of information, my wet-cold feet concern, and my quickly diminishing flexibility with time prompted me to accept an invitation to hop a lift the rest of the way to Oruro.
ORURO - worst one hour bike "portage" & series of connections:
I will remember Oruro for one of the most frustrating "biking" hours of my journey. A "portage" of sorts. I consider a portage a part of my path where I need to get off my bike and cross an area by carrying/dragging/pushing my bike; where there is no trail/road. This particular portage - the worst! The direction I got for the "fastest" way to get to where I was going had me in an area on the outskirts of Oruro that took about an hour to go about 200 meters! Water and mud so sticky, my wheels got coated and couldn't turn. I would stop to scrape off the mud, and three inches later I'd be at a standstill again.
If that wasn't frustrating enough - this was also the local garbage bin - the water fluorescent green, plastic, tins, pampers; and while I didn't see remnants, as I gingerly put a foot down, I was pretty sure it was the neighbourhood bathroom as well. When I - finally! - reached the other side, I looked back with a sigh of relief to see a fellow walking out, and squatting on the other side of some rocks. Confirmed. Gulp. My "portage" was one big outhouse! Yuck!
Still turns my stomach to think - it's not the first time I've been faced with the harsh reality of the options for people living in these conditions. Their waste issue becomes mine for a very short time. What do I do with the plastic bag I have? Where do I go to the bathroom? My banana peel? And I shudder to think of what it's like in places of higher concentration of population? It is so much easier to just flush a toilet or put everything in a waste bin under my sink, take it out back and have someone else deal with it - out of sight out of mind.
Back to my mud-packed bike (I've never seen anything like it!): First priority is finding water to wash my bike, trailer, and shoes! (Thankfully, even though it was a sunny day, I had left my rain cover around my pack in my trailer!)
And! Not too far away was a truck-wash - hurrah! One of the workers sprayed down my bike and trailer. Next door a family who live and work in a parking lot for semi-trucks, lent me their hose and wash bin to wash my shoes, socks and tights. There are two 3-month old babies in this family (three days difference). One belongs to the Mom (who's probably in her early 40's) and the other to the 17 year old daughter. (I find it difficult to imagine nursing my baby beside my Mom nursing hers!)
In the center of Oruro, I was immediately welcomed to park my trailer at a cel-phone store while I searched again for spoke-help. Cristobal was a great hand! Back at the cel-store, in walked two Chileans who were able to help me plot my route into Chile - hurrah! They tipped me off to connect with another cyclist from Brazil who was a block away. And welcomed me to visit their restaurant, which led to hearing some great live music, and meeting the family owning the building who invited me to stay the night! Here I am on their computer, typing away.
The mucky morning experience had me miss a connection, and led to so many beautiful connections that likely wouldn't have occurred otherwise. I wonder what's next?!
Shauna
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