Pisac & the Sacred Valley

A popular day trip out of Cuzco is the "Sacred Valley."  With a name that tantalizing, it seemed a good place to get some moderate exercise and acclimatize at the same time. A mountain biking excursion could be just the ticket, I thought.

So, I own a mountain bike and ride in Ketchikan, but does that mean I'm a "mountain biker?" No! As I found out. I ride my bike on gravel logging roads, but if the rocks get huge - like boulders - I walk.  I don't careen down boulder-strewn trails, or pop wheelies over logs. Carlos, our guide's first question: "You're experienced, right?" I hedged, and his demeanor got more serious. "You need to have experience," he emphasized sternly.  My niece Carie covered for me and we left for the spot where we'd pick our bikes; me wondering what in the heck I got myself into.

It was drizzling slightly as we were outfitted with bikes and helmets, outside of a run-down street side  shop area. The others who joined us on the trip were a trim, tan, young brunette gal from Cape Town, S. Africa, and two young Israelis. We started out by biking downhill 10 minutes or so through the city  to a bus terminal. That was a scary start, dodging traffic that doesn't play by the same rules as in the U.S., and trying to keep up with our macho guide. (He seemed more intent on proving his own biking prowess than by our safety!) We rode a "colectivo" van with the bikes strapped onto top to just outside a small town, where the ride was to begin.

Before we got started, Carlos again reiterated that this was not a bike ride for those without experience! He did add, however, that if we didn't feel safe to get off the bike and walk it. I had to do so right away going down a steep, very rocky hill; but soon we were traversing an easy dirt road through fields. We passed big bulls just a few feet away, sheep, pigs, and a lady herding her sheep - all with beautiful mountains in the distance - the peaks of the higher ones hidden in clouds. We had very few brief stops at which Carlos made a few apparently obligatory remarks, then abruptly would demand "Vamos!" He didn't want us to get rained on, but also was keeping us to a schedule to fit in all the stops. We we hit a series of small, rolling rises, I amazingly passed the Israelis to catch up with Carlos and the other 2 riders at the top of a small hill. We then found out the older of the two Israeli men was sick, apparently with the flu. I was huffing and puffing a big, but I think it was just the initial anaerobic stage of exercise which I'd also experience hiking at home. Starting out again, the Israeli again fell behind and Carlos was getting a bit perturbed. He said the man would have to catch a bus back to Cusco at Moray, an archaeological site which was our first tourist stop destination.  (More to come...)

Posing in the fields in the Sacred Valley. I took the pose mainly because our macho bike guide was kind of pissing me off. I guess I decided to show him that I may have been the oldest, but I wasn't a wimp. Someday, I'll get my arms back to this shape again. 

Moray - our guide told us these terraces were used to cultivate seeds of crops that grow at varying  altitudes. Air temperature between the top and bottom terraces can vary as much as 20 degrees.