THE COLOMBIAN AND ECUADORIAN ANDES

I had been longing to ride in these lands again after my first crossing of South America by bike in 2015. I had been training hard for a year on the French Riviera with Andreas, my friend and riding partner for this crazy adventure. I never missed an opportunity during our early training to describe to him the far-out feeling of riding on this continent.

At 5:45am on January 1st, we left Cartagena Police station in Colombia to start our world record attempt to ride the entire length of the South American coast, finishing in Ushuaia in Argentina in less than 58 days. We were well prepared physically, our bikes were built for long hours in the saddle and we had brought all the gear we thought we needed to ride under extreme weather conditions. We slowly learnt that in the Andes it wouldn’t be enough.

This country kept all the promises it had made me in 2015. A good dose of spectacular mountainous scenery, cycling from the hot Caribbean coast to the tropical Andes of the Dabeiba region. Colombian people welcomed us as if we were sons of their country (it sometimes took us about 20 minutes to leave lunch stops after four warm goodbyes to the people we met there!).

We also understood how Nairo Quintana had such strong legs: Colombia hides some pretty nasty climbs.
On dirt roads or in tropical conditions, those climbs might lead any European to stop at every bar to beg for their amazing local juices or famous Agua Panela (water and unprocessed sugar).

Juices made from local fruits felt like heaven and were the sweetest way to replace the fluids we lost as we sweated out most of the water we had in our bodies. On top of discovering how to cope with the searing heat, we learnt how to fix a Di2 wire which had been cut in two pieces and crossed a forbidden tunnel for bikes thanks to the gratitude of an understanding Colombian.

As we passed through the equator in Ecuador, the temperature dropped from 35 degrees to eight in one day. The sun hid behind every volcano we passed by. The Cotopaxi peaked out from behind the clouds for a few hours before our final Andean climb to reach the ‘Ruta del Sol’ on the Ecuadorian coast.

Cycling on the coast felt like Mad Max.
Our 30-centimetre-wide cycling lane was mined with holes, dead tyres and dead animals of all sorts. We spent days zigzagging between traps and yelling at truck drivers who desperately wanted to kiss our Open U.P. bikes with their HGVs. At the end of each day, we exchanged a “I’m glad we survived this mayhem” look…And with each passing morning we got more impatient to reach the Peruvian border, mostly because the Ecuadorian rain soaked us and our gear from head to foot!

LESSONS FROM PERU AND CHILE

In one day of riding, God stopped the rain and we rode from tropical banana fields to a no-man’s land desert in Peru.

I had driven the whole coast from south to north in 2016 during the recce for the IncaDivide race. Guess what? Driving was easier.
Picture a hostile desert 2,400 kilometres long, with never-ending hills, a constant head wind and some sections of 120 kilometres or more without a single soul around. Then add some nasty ingredients, such as food poisoning, heavy dehydration and cramps. Mix this potion together and you will start believing in God, or at least look to some higher spirit for outside assistance while riding your bike.

I can safely say I took my body to the other side on an epic 12-and-a-half-hour ride through this Peruvian melting pot.

“Peru was supposed to be easy,” Andreas kept repeating. We had a hard time maintaining our daily goal of 200 kilometres or more. We eventually made peace with Peru after passing the southern city of Nazca, where we rode on spectacular coastal hills with breathtaking sunsets. But just to remind us never to underestimate this country, we endured the strongest headwind of the trip so far on a 35 kilometre stretch to reach the Chilean border.

Ahead lay the toughest section of our world record attempt: the Atacama desert and Paso de Jama border crossing with its three passes, all above 4800 metres. We dug unexpectedly deep to beat the most arid desert on Earth.

Despite the tailwind and good weather (although we experienced one hell of a snowstorm at 4,600 metres), the infamous Paso de Jama was the toughest climb we experienced: steep, long, high, remote… and exquisite. The hardest part was not to stop every five minutes to take a picture of these inhuman lands and the Licancabur volcano. Few cyclists have had the privilege to ride here, and we enjoyed every bit of this section.

During our first long climb in the Atacama desert we ran into something extraordinary. As we approached a parked truck half way up the 1,500m climb we noticed something bizarre. The truck was named 'Axel y Andres' ! We couldn’t believe it. There we were, in the middle of nowhere, climbing a never ending mountain in 42 degree heat only to find a truck with our names on it! We took it as a sign. There was no way we wouldn’t break the record now.

Our first stop at a pharmacy in Chile was hilarious. The couple who owned it took care of us as if we were about to die. Indeed, their diagnosis was hard hitting: I had been taking the wrong antibiotic for days, causing the worst diarrhea of my life.

We were both 99% dehydrated, which explained the cramps. Andreas was advised to buy new sunglasses as his eyes looked like something from The Exorcist.
We stopped earlier than planned that night, to heal ourselves. Gatorade, pizzas and the right antibiotics felt like a rebirth!

THE ARGENTINEAN LOTTERY

We had 4,500 kilometres to go, and it would all be within one single country: that gives you an idea of the immensity of Argentina. Our time there started with some altitude sickness and power naps on the side of the road.

As we passed by Salta, we started to push harder. Up to this point in our ride, our days were mostly focused on covering the required distance without killing ourselves, physically or mentally, and until now we had (almost) succeeded in this task.

Argentina blessed our legs as we crossed the Quebrada de las Conchas and the Cafayate wine road.

We were in heaven cycling these stretches with unbelievably stunning landscape cordillera mountain landscapes and unique mountain colours.

In 2015, arriving at Tierra del Fuego after eight months of touring the Andes, definitely lacked panache. This time, as we got closer to our final goal, we had one thing in mind: each day should be more challenging than the previous.

This craziness led us to one final mother of all rides totalling 417 kilometres on Tierra del Fuego, crossing the whole island in just 24 hours. We battled heavy humidity and freezing temperatures through the night so that we could witness a final sunrise as we passed by the wooden stalls at the entrance of Ushuaia city, just a few blocks away from the fire station we stopped at to stamp our arrival.

This arrival will be remembered as one of the most epic rides of our lives....so far…

What had we done? Why did we do that? Going from the excitement of just having to ride our bikes all day to the suffering through the elements, dealing with the illness and riding on average 12 hours each day. Most of this craziness was decided during our casual early morning training. We were dreaming of something big, longing for adventures and South America happened to be an extraordinary one. There aren’t many places in the world that combine such a variety of landscapes, weather conditions and interactions with warm people.

What we’ve learned from this experience is that physical pain can be dealt with, mental weakness can be overcome. Finding the positive in the people you meet and the beauty in the landscapes you traverse are the best coping mechanisms. For many cyclists it seems that pushing to the extremities of your own capabilities is irresistible. Why?

Because it’s there to be done of course.