Missing Photos Recovered and Exposed

The Inca trails

Follow the signs (Day 2)

View from the bike path of the Urubamba river (Day 1)
swift on a bike without all the steroids...take that Armstrong (Day 1)

Urubamba from the Inca trails (Day 2)
Incan Trails (Day 2)

Just a wild Orchid on the side of the path (Day 3)

Crossing the bridge, "one at a time, the bridge isn't very strong," says the smiling tour guide George. The train station in the background has fallen off into the river in a land slide. You can still see many of the rail cars and the tracks in the Urubamba below us. (Day 3)

Taking a rest just at the bottom of Machu Picchu (Day 3)
Hot Springs in Santa Teresa...one of four pools. (Day 2)


I like this picture.

Now you cannot say I wasn't there
A better picture...tilt your head clockwise and you can see an Incan head in the mountains behind Machu Picchu.
Tiered levels for agriculture in the plaza of the village...i did not know that llamas could climb stairs.

Housing that has since been restored to look like it did five-hundred years before. When the Incans left at the fear of a Spanish invasion, they burnt down all of Machu Picchu. What is left is the stone walls.
View of Machu Picchu from Wayna Picchu...it is suppose to be in the shape of a condorA little meditation after climbing up 3,200 stairs.

Yes...Alpaca llama crossing.

You didn't believe me? This is on the way to Arequipa.

Lake Titicaca in the morning. The floating islands are off in the distance.

Trek to Machu Picchu

Day 1 (11/23/07)
Waking up early, I strolled through the courtyard of the Casa Grande hotel, making sure my bike was locked up and protected from the rain, as I waited to be picked up for my four day adventure on the Inca trails to Machu Picchu. After one cramped taxi ride, a micro bus trip through Cuscu, and a five hour shuttle to our drop off point, we were sitting at 13,200 feet looking over the Rio Urubamba. We had 48 kilometers to go, and I was sitting on top of a mountain bike with a bent frame, no rear break, a shaky front suspension, and a loose chain that would fall off every 15 minutes.
It took me a while to get use to the bike, but after a while, I was cruising down the mountain, enjoying the marvelous mountain sides, and dreaming of the messengers that once ran on the trails long before these wheels landed on their soil.
The bike trip landed us north of Machu Picchu in a small village called Santa Maria, where we cleaned up, grabbed some beers and sat with our tour guide at the local soccer match. The evening gave us time to meet the others in the group, consisting of three Brits, one Dutchman, our Peruvian tour guide and myself. There was a second group, who were all contracted through a separate company, that kind of followed our tracks as well. The night ended with a drinking game, where we all ended up snoring in our chairs with saliva stringing ever so poetically from our lips.
Day 2 (11/24/07)
Although slightly hung over, I was definitely excited about the 28 kilometer hike on the Inca trails through the mountains just north of Machu Picchu. Our tour was called the "Jungle Tour" quite specifically because the entire day consisted of rain, wet palms, fresh fruit picked on the side of the path, the call of Parrots across the valley, the rapid Urubamba river running below us, and the multitude of mosquito bites that came along with it.
It is difficult to describe the Incan trails, mostly because it is a massive construction of arterial interconnection between a culture that spread over thousands of miles through Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia. The Incans produced massive stone masonry, and endless miles of trails hundreds of years before the wheel even set foot on the continent. The very trail that I was climbing that day, chewing on coca leaves, picking the tangerines and pineapple; was the same trail taken hundreds of years prior by the Incan messengers .
We climbed through dark jungle filled with spider webs and butterflies, crossed the river on swaying bridges with missing planks, and even zip-lined across the river using a small box and a pull rope. I drank fresh coffee brewed in the old Incan mountains and juice made from purple Indian corn.
After our exciting crossing using the zip line 200 feet above the river, we hiked to the hotsprings just outside of Santa Teresa. It was a beautiful natural hot spring, that lay on the back of a dramatic Andean cliff. We ended up throwing our puddy muscles into a minibus, and headed into Santa Teresa for food, pool, and the discotech (where a drunk man insisted that I trade shirts with him, of which I am now the proud owner of the 1995 Santa Teresa soccer jersey...holes, smell, and all).
Day 3 (11/25/07)
Today did not compare to the Incan trails that we had yesterday. Mostly because, the trails had been replaced by railroad track, and we were left following them for most of the hike. It was nice walking by the river, surrounded by wet jungle and beautiful flowers, however, when the ties are not aligned on the track in a consistent pattern, it becomes quite annoying to walk the right of way.
All the same, we made it into Aguas Caliente, flooded with tourism and over-priced lodging, where ironically enough my water was Aguas muy muy frio! We had dinner and hit the bed early in order to wake up at 4 the next morn in order to hike up to Machu Picchu.
Day 4 (11/26/07)
Today was the day we have all been working so hard for. We had biked 48 kms and hiked 46 kms in three days...now we were to climb over 3,200 steps...and I am not talking about normal steps, but old Incan steps that will make your thighs wish they were taking the train.
However, when you are hiking up steps of that intensity, you have to get in a mood, and the fact that one of the New Seven Wonders of the World was only steps away from me...I had no problem sweating off gallons of man smell with one goal in mind...making it to the top.
We finally made it to the Machu Picchu site, in about one hours time, and started out on our guided tour through the village. The sites were overwhelming...perfectly cut stone masonry had come together with logically tiered agricultural plots overlooking a massive valley in the flora of dramatic Andes. Canals ran through the city, providing resources to the lost community that once lived up here. It turns out that Machu Picchu was like a University of sorts, where families would come to study agriculture, astronomy, weaving, and artisan works. Priests would hold sacrificial ceremonies on large granite boulders. Being just miles from the moon, you could easily feel the presence of the sun pounding on my volatile skin. While the llamas chewed on the grassy plaza, we made our way around to the temples where they had created sun dials and a massive boulder construction of a condor. The condor is significant, being that it circled in the air creating the circular patter, which to the Incans, represented the sun...worshiped very closely. There are three main Peruvian animals that were very dear to the ancient culture; the condor in the sky, the puma on the land, and the snakes below. This tradition can be seen quite amazingly in the construction of the cities, where as Cusco took on the formation of the puma, the shape of Machu Picchu can be seen as a condor from up above.
Being so, I continued the hike with some of the other boys in the group, up to Wayna Picchu that overlooks Machu Picchu. The hike was steep and a little dangerous, however, when reaching the top and sitting on the boulder overlooking the condor village, I understood what life is all about. So we popped a bottle of Champagne and celebrated it's beauty.
The trip back into Cusco consisted of a three hour train ride and a three hour bus trip...of which, I began to feel the tired muscles take their toll. Driving by more of the older ruins in Ollantaytambo an Urubamba, I kept thinking how fortunate I am to be alive on this earth. I could have been living hundreds of years ago, cutting out stones for these terraces and building the first network of highways in the american world. Only I a living here today, as I sit in unending awe of the magic that lies within the Incan history.

Crazy few days

Nazca lines in negative image of the tree
largest sand dune in the world...really light, but you can see it in the back
Vicuna herds up in the mountains just before the snow started coming down

November 20, 2007
We left Lima with Shawn on the back of Lou´s bike with a little sorrow, being that we received such a wonderful welcome at our guest house. The desert was once again cool and dry, as we drove along the Pacific towards Nazca. We made it as far as Palpa, and decided to find a place to stay for the night. The hostel turned out to be an old prison, only they added stained glass over the bars and painted the walls to make it more hospitable. I swear that the beds are the same from the jail bird nights, curdled and lumpy from the hidden tools in the matress for the midnight escape.
November 21, 2007
We left early and headed towards the Nazca lines. We made it to the observation deck, and ventured on the 50 foot climb up in the tower that overlooks three of the many desert designs made by the ancient Incas hundreds of years ago. The lines are designed by digging channels into the desert sand in the shape of different figures...we saw the tree, hands and lizard. There are many theories, one being that they were using these channels to collect the very little rain water that fell each year, however, I tend to believe that aliens came down from space to make the land-art.
After visiting the not so impressive lines, we took off towards Cusco. We bypassed the tallest sand dune in the world, more than 2,300 meters, before climbing over 4,300 meters into the national forest covered in Vicuna herds and a very intense snow storm. Unfortunately, on the way, we happened to ride by a bus that had tipped over on it´s side. As we moved pass the police barricade slowly, we unfortunately caught the viewing of a deceased passenger being pulled out from the back window by two firemen.
A little taken from the sight of the wreck, we met the mountain peaks with warm engines and the snow fell sideways as we chartered into the wintry hell. My two thumbs were completely frozen, as I cleared my helmet visor every five seconds, and my body shivered for the next 45 miles. The descent was magical, as my heated grips on the bike finally kicked in, as if they did not work in 30 degree temperatures, and my body became homeostatic once again. We made it all the way down into Challaunca, just outside of Ayacucho, before seeing a sign with "Agua Caliente" on it and jumping on board. Meeting up with a few other bikers who were tired after a snow torn day, we warmed up with a little rum and chicken.
November 22, 2007
We left in the early rain this morning, headed for Cusco. Cusco was once the sight of the Incan capital, once covered in gold from top to bottom, it was quickly taken over by the Spaniards. However, the very close by Machu Picchu was not discovered until a very later date.
The ride today was beautiful. We climbed over 4,100 meters twice before arriving in Cusco, sitting at 10,000 feet. However, the majority of the trip was running along sweet curves on the river side. Arriving in Cusco, we found the hotel where all the bikers go to, and the manager was quick to offer us our Machu Pïcchu tours. I am going with the four day three night mountain bike/hike tour, and the other three are going with the "old man" train tour. We plan on all meeting on top on Sunday and riding back down together into Cusco by train Monday morning.
As for tonight, there is a biker bar that is known for their adventure enthusiasts...they may just get some of money out of me this evening. As for tomorrow, I am headed up the Incan trails, curing the altitude sickness...aka hangover...with a little coca tea. Salud!

Leaving Lima...here are some pictures of the last few rides

In front of Case de Clara, with Clara and Michael....thanks for the recommendation Mr. and Mrs. Pletch!


In front of the Temple of the Sun outside of Trujillo

1,500 year old paintings of the Moncha God in the Temple of the Moon
View from balcony of hostel on the way to Huaraz

Path on the way to Huaraz

Pass on the way to Huaraz

Pass on the way to Huaraz
The top of the mountain over looking the Andes (14,000 ft plus)
Cuey (aka Guinea Pig)Road on the way to Barranca

Creek on the way to Barranca


Rose Garden in San Borja, suburb of Lima Centro
Lima Centro
Lima Centro

Mierreflores, Lima at night

Easy day...easy living

November 18, 2007
Barranca to Lima,
The ride from the Beach side of Barranca along the Pan American coastal road of central Peru into Lima was brisk and cloudy with a light mist in the air that did not want to penetrate the sandy desert that lay on the outskirts of our tarmac. Winding through the skirts of the Andes that poked off into the Pacific, we climbed a wonderful dune two hours into the trip, only to find a group of six long boarders (a long board is like a little surf board on wheels, or rather a long skateboard used for downhill) cruising down the Pan American in Peru, with the trailer tucked in position holding a video camera. All of the riders, covered in protective gear and full helmets, gripped onto their surf cruiser, only a half mile off the Pacific coast, tucked in a 50 mile per hour race into the Peruvian dawn. A couple of guys in the group noticed us on our large bikes and stood up from their aerodynamic stance to give a ¨shout out¨ and acknowledge the similar taste for adventure sport in foreign land.
The Pan American took us straight though Lima, to much of our surprise, lacking any congestion. With only two gas station attendants and one taxi driver with a map, we found our house where we are now staying. It is a wonderful couple, who are good friends with the family of my friend Andrea from Lawrence. The house is lovely and their hospitality is more than I could have ever asked for. We have already attended to the much needed services our bikes were do for, and now have a few days before our friend Shawn flies into Lima, and we take off for Cusco.
My beard is growing for the mountains, my mind is growing with each new adventure, and my heart has opened up a little more with each smile. I am accomplishing exactly what I had set of to do.

Update from heaven...only I´m not dead (II)

November 17, 2007
Piracoto to Barranca:
We were hesitant to leave the wonderful little village of Piracoto, just on the foot of the mother Andes, being that we received such wonderful hospitality. One dream of mine, is to set up a clinic outside of the states, and if I were to pick a place from the trip thus far, it would have to be Piracoto, Peru.
We set off at six-thirty in the morning, understanding the severity of the trip that we had in front of us. There was a little adobe house on the corner that sold gas out of a watering canister, and we each bought a gallon to fill up our tanks for the road...knowing their would be nothing for the next 5 hours of trail.
How do I explain this trail. It is 109 kilometers of rock, river, gravel, dirt, mountains, valleys, donkeys, cattle, goats, sheep, dogs, birds, waterfalls, and wonderfully friendly mountain villagers. Twice I passed women in the formal dress, full of colour, it included a skirt with stockings in black leather shoes, a blouse with a shall, and large bowler hats tilted to the side. They would be very traditionally sitting to the back drop of mountains, washing clothes or doing needlepoint, with the most unique look of true beauty...exactly what I think of when the word ¨life¨ comes to mind. They would then for those few seconds, look up from their daily activity, I would wave, and they would smile...it was poetic and beautiful and I will never forget them.
I had rediscovered beauty all throughout the five hours of riding at ten miles per hour, through some of the roughest terrain...no, the roughest terrain, I have ever experienced. Not to mention, it was a one lane trail with domestic animal herds, fallen rocks, and unbelievably dramatic cliff drop offs. My mother would be very upset. I tipped the bike over twice on this road, once in a pile of mud, and the second time on a gravel turn. Just a couple of scrapes on my legs, otherwise the bike and myself are just fine. We climbed to over 14,000 feet, where we made it to the top of the mountain over looking the city of Huraz and the beautiful snow capped mountains, home to the tallest in Peru. The site was magical and emotional, Lou even started crying. We sweated out a very intense ride for this moment, and alas, it was their in front of us, screaming ¨look at me, I am fucking amazing!¨
It took us an hour and a half to get down into the city of Huraz; dropping around 5,000 feet through road construction is always fun. It was well time for lunch, and Landon and I were feeling lucky to be alive, so we dared for more adventure, and chose the Cuey for our lunch item (aka Guinea Pig). It tasted like rabbit, only their wasn´t a terrible amount of product and was left hungry. I think I will stick to Pollo next time.
After lunch, and taking pictures of the fried appendages left over from our Cuey corpse, we headed back on the highway, this time paved, through the Peruvian National forest to Barranca.
This is another part of the trip that I am not sure how to explain. It was the most beautiful road I have ever been on in my entire life. I was left breathless, for four hours back down to the coast. White capped peaks with grassy highlands, adobe cottages on the mountain sides, with grazing cattle, cold rocky streams, sweeping valleys, the largest boulders I have ever seen (an absolute climber´s paradise), with a winding road that would make every German connoisseur jealous. It was remarkable, and I wish for every person in the world to be able to travel this road once in their life. I only imagine that if I marry some day, my wife on our wedding day, will bring me as much aesthetic beauty as this road did that day.
It would have been a perfect day in the life of Sean Tucker, if it were not for the simple fact that I was judged on the basis of my skin colour. For all of my friends out their that understand what I am talking about...racial profiling is a bitch. We were riding all day, with kids and adults alike screaming out ¨Gringo¨ from the dome of the Peruvian mouth, like it was the common hello for ¨pale ass different person.¨ The worst part of being pink and riding through Peru, is that you are stopped by every police check point. ¨Who are you riding in this neighborhood on that fancy cycle, huh Gringo?¨ And they are always wanting something. Lou is the one that forks over the goods; one time he gave the cop glow sticks and the other time a sheet of Benadryl. They are really just their to hassle you, mostly based on the colour of your skin and the fact of the motorcycle being so large. But eventually, all the paperwork comes back and they let us pink boys on our way. We made it down to the Pacific and into a Hostel merely feet away from the crashing waves just in time to watch the sunset over the big blue ocean...of course, they made us stay in the back of the hostel.

Update from heaven...only I am still alive

November 16, 2007
Trujillo to Pariacoto: We left the wonderful home of Carla after a a perfect breakfast of fresh rolls with butter and jam, and some hot coffee. After two kisses on the cheek from Carla herself, and a few pictures out in front of the house, we took off to the Mocha tribe´s Hucas del Sol y Luna; two pyramids separating a community from 300 to 900 AD, before it separated into the Chan Chan community. Later, the Chan Chan community, outside of present day Trujillo, had been taken over by the Incan tribes, which were then taken over by the Spaniards in the 1500´s.
Only the Hucas de la Luna Pyramid was open to the public, and Landon and I went on the formal tour. It was named the Pyramid of the Moon because the mountain that sits adjoining to the pyramid, or rather temple, would shine white in the moon´s glow. This pyramid was home to the priests and preistas of the ancient period, who would worship a God, made up of the land, ocean, sun, and moon. In times of which they though their God was angry with them, whether because of El Nino or earthquakes, they would viciously sacrifice humans and feed off of the blood spilt from the necks of the dead. The violent temple can be seen today with the bones of the sacrificed peeking out of the sand.
Over one thousand years has passed since the pyramid had been evacuated for the Chan Chan community, and besides the Spaniards raiding the tombs for metals, the entire pyramid, up until 1991 when the project began, was completely covered in desert sand, blown in from the Pacific.
The pyramid was built in five levels, raising over 45 meters. Prisoners would be taken to the internal quarters of the temple, where only the priests and priestas were allowed. The priesta would come forth to the naked and tied prisoner with a golden dagger in hand, slicing through the jugulars and quickly lowering the goblet in order to collect the blood. All while the prisoners next in line watched the bloody sacrifice from their knees.
After our tour, we did not have much of an appetite for lunch, so we decided to jump on our bikes and start down the road. We made it all the way into Casma, where I convinced the two men I am riding with to head up into the mountains, instead of continuing down the path of the dry and cool desert. We had been warned about this road, that it was not all paved and that it would be dangerous and take a long time to get only 100 kilometers...it sounded perfect to me. After all, we are adventure riders. So we decided to head up into the mountains and finish off the day in Pariacoto, just where the tarmac turns into the hellish gravel that we would soon come to see the very next day.

Riding a sand blasted highway

We took off from Piura this morning, once again without Coffee of which really upsets me, and headed off through the Lambayeque desert towards Trujillo. The desert today was so completely dead, yet it seemed to have a life of its own, underneath the wind torn and Peruvian littered bareness. We continuously passed signs warning, ¨Zona de Dunas,¨ where the sand would ebb up onto the shore of the highway. This highway is legendary for terrible windstorms that can pull a truck of the road, ripping the axles from underneath, leaving it paralyzed without a trace in the middle of nothingness. It was like looking at a never ending tan table cloth, spread over the horizon, with nothing on the table except a few broccoli crumbles scattered in the distance.

Further into the trip, their was an oasis of major irrigation, as if one could pull anymore hydration out of this stone dry land. Sugarcane, Rice, Corn, and Potatoes could all be seen growing in perfectly straight lines, as sand dunes were kept out by lining the perimeter in bush. Further on, more bare bones of abandoned homes, now turned into a landfill with the occasional trash burning and mountains souring in the back ground, half covered in sand.

We did happen to stop off in a sand covered town, of which I mean, the entire town is made of stone and concrete that match the terrain of the state. However, beyond this dehydrated city lay a wonderful blue Pacific. We sat on the patio of the 100 year old hotel and had Calamari in Picante Cream sauce with fried Yucca as we watched the fishermen in their dinghies, the surfer falling out on the tide, and little children playing hop-scotch in the sand.

Riding down the highway in the desert can be quite tricky. The low air pressure in the Andes, sucked a sand filled cool wind from the Pacific, smoothly across the highway like a Dyson. The sand takes away from traction on the tarmac, and the wind wants to tip your bike over from the side. So the speed is kept at 80 kph and you tilt the bike around 15 degrees to counteract the winds resistance. However, when you are passing a truck, or visaversa, you must correct the balance to zero degrees while the air flow is stabilized, until the truck passes, and you adjust back to the 15 degrees against the current. This was the case for about 6 hours today. And, who would have thought the desert by the equator would be in the low 70´s?

We found a nice place in the city of Trujillo to stay at, just beyond Chan Chan and the Pyramid Ruins. I am going to finish with a chicken Empanada, chips, and Burt's Bee´s Wax.

A lovely sand dune in the distance along a very long baren Pan American traveled by a very linky Gringo on a very dirty mule.

The desert....that is what this picture is of....a desert. I did see my first desert mirage in this desert today...it looked like a big lake...only there was no lake...it was a mirage (aka magic)

View of the pacific from the 3 star Hotel at lunch time. 65 miles north of Trujillo. Behind me, a big desert...lots of sand.

Broken Saddle bag all gussied up for the ride...couldn´t prevent it from falling in a puddle of mud though.

Braids, cool hats, and crayons...

I don´t know if any of you have driven through the Andes of South Central Ecuador in the morning, but if you haven´t, I would definitely recommend doing so. Not only are the mountains absolutely beautiful in the morning, with the waving mountain sides forming shadow puppets against a dewy greenery, but the lively hood of the school children are very pleasing. Up in the mountains of central Ecuador, there is a wonderful Incan tradition, and it is very well observed in the dress. Woman can be seen in long colourful skirts with wraps around the waist, a top and another scarf around the shoulders, and a very peculiar hat (of which you would only think old English males would sport). The men, and young boys, are in black shoes, long black shorts, a colourful top (and sometimes a poncho), and can be seen with this hat as well. It is very interesting to know that their is not a patriarchal hierarchy behind the Incan hat tradition.
The men are known for their long black shiny hair, much like you would see in one of my mother´s 40,000 romance novel covers. The older men have it braided down their back, while the fresh young boys can be seen with little ponytails. They actually look really good with the hat and hair, something I shamefully hide for the fact that I cannot keep any of mine.
As we passed through the mountains and dropped into a very dramatic climate change, the weather turned very warm and dry and the vegetation depleted to absolute nothing. We had entered the deserts of norther Peru, and it was not pleasant. Nonetheless, the colours still amazed me. Moving from up in the mountains full of lush photosynthesis down into the barren deserts of emptiness, their was a crayola abundance of lush colours that made my mouth water...even in the driest of heat. Reds, and greens, yellows and blues...they all came together to make the big 64 crayola box set...the one with the sharpener in the back. It was a wonderful ride...one I will not soon forget.

The mountains can make a man tired

Today we took a nine hour ride through the central mountains of Ecuador, just west of the Amazon basin. We took off from Riobamba, and headed south towards Cuenca. The weather was nice and brisk, but the sun was shining and the views were immaculate. Just before reaching Cuenca, we could actually look over our right shoulders and gaze through the valley...it was the Gulf of Guayaquil stretching out into the Pacific. We were still around 150 miles from the coast line, only we were also around 10,000 feet up in the Andes...it was a wonderful moment.
Passing Cuenca, we rose up even higher in the mountains. It is interesting to think that we could be only a few hundred miles south of the Equator, and the average temperature this afternoon was 45 degrees Fahrenheit. Up in the clouds, we had complete fog coverage keeping our speed down to around 30 mph. The roads were absolute terror. You would have a nice paved highway, that would turn into the land of enchanted pot holes, which would then turn into a gravel rampage filled with boulders that had fallen of the cliffs only nights before. The road was awful and they had definitely taken a toll on us. Yes, Lou is old, but it only took him two minutes to pass out with his boots on.

Enough about today. I owe you all some photos.


Resting Sea Lion Pup on the Island of Seymour North
Scarlet Crab walking on the Lava rocks

Sea Lion Pup riding the back of his momma off the coast of Seymour North
Young male Frigate bird
My Blue Footed Boobie in artistic frame work

Sea Lion taking a nap on the bouy The first pair of boobies I saw on the islands
A Blue footed female guarding her egg from the intense sunlight

hangin´ out with Lonely George, the last of his kind from the islands
Sea iguana sunbathing on Santa Cruz
Land Iguana resting below the Cactus shade


Mountain Pass through central Ecuador. North of Cuenca

We pulled over today to help a man (George) fix a flat on the way to Saraguro