The Canyons of Peru
Join legendary adventurer Gerry Mulligan on his epic tour of South America
Join legendary adventurer Gerry Mulligan on his epic tour of South America in a 110
FIRST impressions of Peru were not pleasant. The roadsides were strewn with garbage, and the long, straight tarmac roads made for relatively uninspiring driving. Some towns looked so dodgy I drove straight through and camped up in the desert, well away from people, just to be safe. After a few days of the desert coast road, my co-pilot Errol Wright and I decided to take a sharp left turn inland to the Cordillera Central. The mountains loomed ahead of us and we were apprehensive, as the road – the Canon del Pato – is notoriously steep and considered one of the world’s most dangerous routes, climbing 4000 m in one day, through 50 single-track tunnels.
The week before I had repaired the horn, damaged in the crash in Colombia, as it was the critical signalling system for entering the tunnels. They are so low that trucks travel with guys on the roof to guide the driver away from the outcrops.
As we climb, we are careful to keep my 110’s 300Tdi engine in its sweet spot – 2500 rpm and about 0.5 bar boost – and watch the exhaust gas temperature, keeping it under 600 C. Climbing 4 km in a day into oxygen-depleted air is a sure way to break an engine unless you are careful, and I did not want to have to replace it again! Nelson the Defender coped well, but us mere humans got breathless at the slightest exertion.
Having crossed over the first ridge of the Andes (there are three at this point) we camped in the town of Caraz. The next day we set off in search of Laguna Paron in the Huascaran National Park, which is the largest lake in the Cordillera Blanca, overlooked by a spectacular mountain.
To get there meant negotiating an impossibly-narrow gravel road with sheer drops, in the rain. It was not for the fainthearted. After an incredible day’s driving, the lake was shrouded in cloud, so we set our alarms to catch the mountain
in the first light of dawn. We were rewarded with some spectacular views.
Laguna Paron was the beginning of an unforgettable fourday tour of the Cordillera Blanca mountain range; we hiked to the massive glacier and lake of Laguna 69. We continued on rough switchback roads in and out of the clouds until we descended to the jungle on the other side.
The road over the mountains is hardly used, with slippery muddy tracks often requiring low ratio and differential lock to keep moving. The passenger had to get out and check the fragile bridges carefully before we choose a line for the laden Landy.
We had a deep sense of isolation in the cloud-covered mountains; this felt like real exploring. Progress was slow about 150 km in ten hours – but we were rewarded by aweinspiring views at every twist of the road and a continuallychanging scene and climate from glaciers to the jungle.
We were now well away from any tourist infrastructure, so as darkness fell we asked at a local police station where we might safely park for the night. The cheerful sergeant suggested we park directly outside the police station and patted his AK47, saying: “plenty of security here all night” in Spanish. In these remote villages, my three months of Spanish lessons paid off; without them we would have been quite stuck as my co-driver Errol did not speak Spanish at all. We found a restaurant for the classic meal of chicken, beans and rice and settled down to sleep under the watchful eye of the police on the night shift.
The next day we pushed on through the jungle as our primary focus now was to reach the capital, Lima, and its airport for our first crew change. Errol was heading back to the UK, and Duncan from Inverness was joining me.
Duncan and I are well used to motoring adventures having set the (still-standing) world record for driving 18 countries in 24 hrs without using a plane. We had also practised overlanding in Morocco for three weeks as part of the proving trials for Nelson.
Duncan and I first headed south from Lima to the Paracas National park to see the wildlife and the beaches, as this park has the highest concentration of marine birds in the world. After spotting a lot of cormorants and seals, we camped in the car park (with the ranger’s permission).
On the map that evening, I spotted a little track that seemed to cross the desert from the coast to the Oasis of Huacachina, our next destination on the way to the Nazca lines. It turned out to be a real find, and one of the most adventurous drives of the trip so far, mostly due to a terrifying descent that we encountered on the coast. To get down the hill, we had to traverse a steep slope sideways first and then point the Landy nose down a massive dune to get to the bottom.
We first walked down the slope, with Duncan sceptical about the drivability of the route. I knew, in theory, the Defender could do it, but with so much weight on the roof, it was touch and go. We decided to off-load the Wolf boxes into the cabin to lower the centre of gravity and to station Duncan on the outside of the truck as a counterweight as we crossed the side slope very gingerly. Duncan checked the bulge of the tyres to detect any tendency for the upper wheels to lift – and we got to the bottom both sweaty and relieved.
We had a fun day of desert driving for the rest of the day without seeing another soul. We made it to the Oasis just as darkness fell for a well-deserved pint and a pizza with the tourists.
The next night we wild camped on a beach among the ancient ruins of Puerto Inca. We were the only people there and could explore freely, even finding a crypt full of human bones. The setting was idyllic, and our peace only disturbed in the morning by some local fishermen casting nets off the beach by our truck
Next day we headed off into the Andes again, this time on a quest to drive across the two deepest canyons in the world. At around 3400 m deep Cotahuasi Canyon is twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the USA and the second-deepest is the more accessible Colca Canyon. Just six months earlier a power company had built a road bridge, making a four-day trip into and across both canyons possible for the first time.
Near the lip of the first canyon we were brought to a sudden stop by an unexpected queue of stationary traffic. Walking to the front of the line, I found a shoulder-height earth ramp blocking the highway, flanked by six-foot-deep ditches on both sides of the road. The ramp was occupied by 50 or so vocal local protesters. The location for their blockade had been chosen well: a deep river ravine and a natural lake
meant that there was no way through, even off-road.
I have learnt from some years of travelling to approach such situations with a friendly, non-aggressive attitude, I climbed over the barrier and shook hands with some of the protestors who looked like they were in charge – quickly we were chatting in Spanish. They told me that the protest was against water contamination by a local mining company.
When I returned to the Landy, I was able to tell Duncan that we were probably there for the night and that the barricade would be removed in the morning. Thankfully we were much better equipped for this than many in the line of cars and trucks, so we just popped the roof and put the kettle on preparing to make dinner and settle down for the night.
Voices outside alerted us to the fact that we had become a bit of an attraction, the elders of the village had come along to see the fantastic expanding truck of the foreigners. I quickly found myself giving guided tours of the rig and answering questions about all the countries Nelson and I have travelled in for a few hours. It was one of the most surreal moments in all my travelling.
"We wild camped among the ancient ruins of Puerto Inca. We were the only people there and could freely explore, even finding a crypt full of human bones"