We get
on our bikes, all in a single file line, rev our engines, and we’re off. Hold up, my bike doesn’t work. I try to hit the accelerator and nothing
happens. Uh oh, I’m going to get left in
the dust (hehe), I think. Not to
fear. Our trusty guide Nando lets me
take his bike, which is decked out in full camo so it looks like I’m not even riding on anything but in fact gliding on
air. And I’m off! I floor my accelerator and catch up to the
group. Good thing I did, because I turn
the corner and find that they are stopped in traffic. After inching forward for about 25 minutes,
with a number of bike malfunctions on the way, we find out that we are behind a
funeral procession, with about 100 Andean men, women and children marching with
a casket and trumpets.
We eventually turn off the main
road and onto a dirt path. I’m ready to
speed off, but the guide is holding us and a reasonable speed :(. Who needs safety when you are offroad
fury-ing? We go along this path for a
while until we encounter Linus’ rival gang – the goat squad. They outnumber us by a wide margin – about 50
to 20. We are nervous, finally facing
down after sparks almost flew in Cuzco, but they get distracted by a field of grass
off to the side. Really, I think they
just knew they feared us rough riders, but regardless we went our separate ways
and we were off again. We go along on
this path for a while longer, passing small houses in this mountain village
before reaching the end of the road and turning around.
Ten minutes pass on the return leg,
and then disaster strikes. My bike,
along with Paloma’s, stalls on the way up a small hill. We eventually push our bikes up, and get back
on to continue our ride. I hop on and
hit the gas. And I don’t move. I try again.
Nothing. An old local man starts
yelling at me – “La cadena! La cadena ‘migo!”
I look down. S***, my chain is
off. At this point, Paloma has gone to
catch up with the rest of the group. I
am by myself with no one in sight but this old guy and my bike. One of the guides is behind me somewhere
helping out another biker, but I have no idea when she will reach me. I reach down to put on the chain, and my
hands immediately turn black with grease.
I cannot get it on. I am starting
to worry at this point. Is my moment of
offroad fury over? However, I refuse to
give up. I continue to attempt to put
the chain on, over and over again, getting grease everywhere and almost burning
my hand on the engine multiple times. As
the guide finally pulls up behind me, I hook the chain on. I am back in business and ready to rage. I hop back on my bike, give a badass nod to
Jeff (who had the other broken bike), and we floor it. Complete fury!
Yet once again the gods of the
offroad fury send me a challenge. Ahead,
I see group of about 12 cows coming straight for me. I was paralyzed. Never before had the infamous cow crew
confronted me before, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I stood my group and let them pass, and
thankfully, they showed me mercy.
Finally, I am free. I hit the
accelerator and speed ahead. No one can
stop me now. I dash across the dirt
road, dust in my face, wind tearing at my clothes. This is the most liberated I have felt since
I finished finals. I see the group up
ahead and finally slow down. What a moment
of fury. What a ride of wonder. ATV Offroad Fury: Peru.
Me on my bike |
Me in a moment of offroad fury |
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