From Cusco Part II

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More from the Woodman:

"it was good to be back on the bike again, as it had been over a week since fully loaded and rolling down the road. i had a late start due to the stomach--finally reaching the outskirts of cusco at 10:30 am. i was told that puno was 9 hours away by bus, but of course, on my bike, much, much less. we rode out of the city and into the opening valley, which was nearly 13,000 ft. above the sea. the first two hours were smooth sailing--good roads and not a lot of traffic in either direction--it did not hit me at this point, the reason that there was no traffic on the road--i am slow, sometimes, in the mornings and also in general--plus i was operating on some bad information, for i had heard that the the television news the previous night was showing indians and bureaucrats shaking hands and machinery clearing the roads. i, of course, did not see this but heard second or third-hand. i found later that the footage was taken from a road in the north, and a bit later on in the news program, they made it clear that the ¨main mountain road south¨ (that from cusco to puno) was still blocked with no end in sight.

when i encountered the first rocks in the road i thought that they were from a landslide, which are ever so common in these parts. a bit slow once again, i then realized that i was in relatively flat terrain with no cliffs within distance of the roadway. the rocks varied in size--from golfballs to basketballs, and later on down the road, 50-gallon barrels. when i had first heard about the ¨roadblocks¨, i had naturally pictured orange cones and flashing lights, possibly with a few people milling about. as i continued on, i realized that the people were intending on making the road truly impassable. from one lane to the next i wove my way through the rockfields--but there always seemed to be a path and i was still believing that the road, although not clear, would be no problem navigating. i found fuel, continued on to experience de´ja vu as i rounded a corner and came upon a line of big rig trucks, stopped, with no one in the driver seats. i also encountered people walking the road, shaking their heads and waving their fingers, saying ¨no hay pase¨, ¨there is no way, you cannot pass¨. where this immediate confidence came from, i am not sure, but a few months ago i would have stopped behind the last truck in line, waited for awhile, and then slowly edged my way up to the front to see what was going on. this day, however, there was no hesitation in my mind or with the throttle--i buzzed right to the front, turned the motor off, removed my helmet and smiled at the crowd. the block was comprised of the full range of rocks across the entire road, and a small tree sitting on top. the immediate reaction of the people was rather excited--or agitated, more likely. they were not going to let me through. an old woman walked in front of my bike and sat down on the tree, directly in what could have been an escape. for the block was not that tall--only a foot and a half or so--but i had pulled close and she was sitting directly in front of me. i continued to smile and look a bit confused, explaining that i was on my way to puno and i had to get there, that i did not understand why the road was blocked, or, more importantly, why i could not pass through. there were a few boys and a couple men standing next to me, telling me no, but slowly i saw the change in their faces. the women, on the other hand, were set against it entirely and of all the others i would encounter down the road, the women were the toughest, angriest, and most intimidating. finally they agreed to let me pass, but i would have to remove the tree, the rocks, drive through, and then replace all the vital pieces. as i began a man pointed cautiously to the hidden, wicked, cacti which were buried under the rocks. a good thing i didn´t make a run for it. once through, still smiling, i bid farewell and continued south......

continuation soon....

i have insomnia. was up until 3am--"

I know the story has a climax somewhere...it had better be good at this rate!

-- luludilly