Machu Picchu is the lost city of the Incas, you have seen pictures of the city perched high atop the mountain in Peru. Well weather you believe it or not, Machu Picchu is a very powerful spiritual place and if you will give it just an inch, this place will steal your soul and let your spirit fly.

Okay, so you want to go there, everybody does and it’s easy, you can take a direct flight to Cuzco, then board a helicopter and be at the hallowed grounds before tomorrow night. All this route takes is money, and not a great deal of that. But I’m afraid if you take the easy road to Machu Picchu, you may miss some of the reason for going there in the first place. Some times it’s the journey that is magic, not the destination.

“So if it’s too easy to fly, how do you get to this here Machu Picchu thing”? Well there are a couple of ways overland. Bus, car , motorcycle horse, foot. The only road to Cuzco which is the gateway to Machu Picchu, well the only road is dirt, and rough, and very long. A bus ride would be hellish, although thousands do it every year, 35 hours on a Peruvian bus makes my mind spin. You could rent a car in Lima and make the drive, but it is a very hard journey, the roads are poor and not marked. For me the decision was easy, ride a motorcycle to Machu Picchu. I don’t want to ride a horse, and not about to make the walk.

Motorcycling has been my life’s passion, it is all I’ve ever wanted to do. The other day a little girl asked me what I had wanted to be when I grew up, I thought for a second and said “I never wanted to be any thing, I just wanted to ride dirt bikes”. So to ride to Machu Picchu was the natural thing for me to do. Even with all my experience I would need help making this dream come true, so I called my friend Burt Richmond from Lotus tours. Now Burt is the man who taught me it was hard to do any serious long distance touring in a country no bigger than the United States. Think about that statement, then imagine what he considers long distance touring? I knew Burt would be able to handle a journey like this. Lotus Tours guide riders on luxury motorcycle adventures all over the world, Peru would not be considered a complex trip for Burt. Vietnam has more red tape than even the US and the Bhutan to Sikkim India trip used brand new antique motorcycles. His instructions were simple, send him the money, then meet the guide at the Lima airport.

I sent Burt the money he asked for, and walked out of the Lima air port at the prescribed time. My goodness what a scene for my travel weary eyes, 300 smiling Peruvian people waving their arms and chanting my name. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, there were still 300 people looking at me, so I rubbed my ears to see if I was really hearing my name being chanted? No, hell no, they are all yelling Taxi, not Charlie. So I have to start studying the hand written signs being shaken in my face. Then it happened, just like it would so many times in the next weeks something wonderful happened. Out of the crowd of 300 hungry taxi drivers a lovely young Spanish girl popped her round face up over the shoulders of the men and held up a tissue with my name written in pencil. I was going with her it didn’t matter what it actually said on the Kleenex. She was indeed my escort and I just smiled and nodded my head in English. Our driver took us the scenic route to the Hostal Senorial, a 3 star hotel in any country. I fell asleep smiling thinking to my self that Burt really does know what he is doing.

Early the next morning the small group of guests met our host Flavio Salvetti and his friend Todo Oscar. We raced out of Lima and south down the Pacific coast to our first stop, Paracus. We arrived for lunch and the sea food was abundant. Flavio unloaded the bikes while we took a siesta and readied our gear and we took a 4;00 PM “shake down ride”.

We explored the Paracas National Preserve, Oh boy is this going to be fun, we are riding identical 600cc Honda dirt bikes and the sand dunes are 1,000 feet tall. All the power you could ever want right in your hand and vast trackless dunes as far as the eye could see, and our guide was running the wheels off our bikes. Later that night our group shared more sea food and agreed we could stop right now and the riding would never be forgotten. Flavio just smiled, he knew what was ahead.

Let me talk about facts for a minute, but don’t forget I’m taking you to Machu Picchu then giving you a reason to live, so just struggle through these next few lines, kind of a commercial message. Well Flavio our guide owns Inca Moto Adventure. They specialize in Dual Sport Motorcycle adventures. What exactly is a Dual Sport Adventure? Well Dual Sport is a new fangeled name for a dirt bike that is just barely street legal. Adventure is Peruvian for “Something fun is going to happen” Inca moto owns 10 1997 Honda XR600 motorcycles. What does that mean? Well Honda makes a wide range of dirt bikes but by far the most famous one is this model. A fine American rider named Scott Summers has put this bike in the motorcycle racers hall of fame with his 9 American National Championships and in his Gold medal finnish at the 1997 International Six Day Enduro in Hamanleena Finland. Scott has single handedly made this motorcycle legendary. The Honda is more than adequate for what riding we will be doing. What I want to say is that this bike has the potential to be ridden faster than any machine made but the beauty of the machine is it remains incredibly docile and easy to ride, you could not hope to rent a better machine. It has the same kind of power and noise that half a Harley Davidson would have, but on a dirt bike you are allowed to use it, so think about riding up a gigantic sand dune, the transmission is in 3^rd or 4^th gear, you are leaning forward over the bars to keep the front end down, you are holding the throttle wide open and the noise sounds like a dragster, you crest the top of the dune, relax the throttle sit up and take in the scenery, you look down 1,000 feet to a valley that leads off across a plain to a cliff that plummets 200 feet straight down to the oceans edge where waves crash and spray for as far as the eye can see. Turn around and look over a vast sea of dunes making up the Ica desert and miles off in the distant you can see the thin ribbon of a road that you don’t need anymore because you are on a dirt bike and can go any direction you want, all the freedom, all the power, something fun is going to happen.

The next morning Flavio has arranged a private boat to take us on a tour of the Ballestas Islands. Just like in the movies the islands were rich with sea lions, Humbolt Penguins, the in famous Blue footed Booby, and a hundred other kinds of birds I cant remember the names of. This was over way too soon and we dressed for riding, we had some ground to travel, 153km to Ica Peru, our next nights destination. We rolled south along the coast for about an hour making stops at the more spectacular places like the “cathedral” and the surfers beach where perfect 9 foot tubes rolled on and on and on. We had lunch on a point and the crashing sea made conversation difficult but that was okay because we were beyond words. We rode the bikes up to a pile of rocks with a broken Inca Kola bottle sitting on top. Flavio pointed off into the desert and said “That way.” We were totally off road now, just following a compass heading north east 210 degrees, for miles! We would get more than a mile apart, in width! Incredible distances covered in comfort and speed, the bikes will run 98mph all day long but we were plonking along at about 60mph. Our course eventually intersected a mountain range of sand dunes and this riding is truly surreal, long sweeping turns up and down the face of sugary soft dunes at any rhythm or any pace you like. Snow skiers dream of bottomless powder, skin divers dream of unlimited visibility and dirt bikers dream about the trail to Ica.

The hotel in Ica was splendid, in its life it had been many things, mainly a winery but now it’s primary juice is the Peruvian Pisco. Pisco was described as being like Tequila but made from grapes, it is served every time you sit down for a good meal, get used to it. The hotel still had the giant wooden grape press and the distillers, and the cooling tanks and the 50 gallon ceramic jars for storing the wine. Nothing was thrown out it was all regarded as art and most entertaining.

Back on the bikes for a long day to Nasca. Today was full of adventure, we were crossing the Ica desert and had been for hours when we pull up to a small creek with running water all the way from the Andes Mountains. Our plan involved us crossing the stream, both the bikes and the Inca Moto support truck. Well the truck drove in and got stuck in water up over the tires and we were in a mess. Flavio assured us this was just another Peruvian translation for “adventure.” Every one pitched in and we dug and pushed the truck up and out of the creek, but all this took time and we already had a long day planned. The truck went back the way it had come and the bikes easily crossed the river and headed to the coast, we picked up the pace and to me this makes it even more fun. We reached the coast and now we crossed the same creek with ease, here it was a mile wide and 2 inches deep, on our right waves crashed up on the beach, we were right on the waters edge now where before we had been on a cliff over looking the ocean. The tide was high so we had to ride up in the soft sand and this was some of the scariest riding of the trip, see if you faltered and stopped for any reason the bike would get stuck and there was no way of getting going again. The only escape would be wait for the tide to go down so you could get on the hard sand. But luckily for us the big bikes just pulled along and none of us had any problems and soon enough we were back on high ground and kicking up dust. Then more trouble, the road had been washed out. We have to go another way, on and on we ride, now almost the opposite direction we wanted, but it’s an adventure trip and things will change. We were really hustling along now, the shadows were getting long and we were back in the rolling hills of the desert. Something caught the corner of my eye, it was a bleached white bone, a bone about the size and shape of a human skull. I wondered to my self and the first chance I asked Flavio and he said yes, it was indeed a human skull, and shrugged his shoulders, he knew where we were going tomorrow. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go but don’t leave me here! We finally reach the Pan-American Highway and take off heading south towards Nazca, this road is exciting too, with its one lane tunnels and hair pin corners with no guard rails. We are in full race mode now we are racing the sun and we are losing, we ride the last 20 miles in the dark, sure we’ve got tiny little headlights but they are mainly decoration and not for serious use. This was serious use but Flavio expertly guided us to our hotel where we were greeted with big smiles and hugs from each other for making such an epic ride.

Then magically the next morning we were picked up by bus and escorted to the local air port where we to a 30 minute flight over the Nasca Line Drawings and Geogliphs. What you ask? Yes you’ve seen photos of these too, gigantic geometric and artistic works of art done with simple stones in the out line of a Hummingbird a Monkey a Spider and different animals known to these long gone artisans. These works cause me a great deal of despair because I know there is nothing I could ever do that will last 100 years, let alone 1,000 years or more. They are made out of simple flat round smooth stones laid out in a gigantic pattern, maybe 3km across. It is speculated that the stones hold heat from the sun during the day and this energy changes the air pressure enough sand does not bury them, so they endure.

Then as if seeing one human skull wasn’t enough the bus took us to the Ancient Nazca Burial grounds where the human bones laid everywhere and a hand full of sand could not be picked up with out bone or two sticking out. Scientist have excavated several of the burial tombs and find perfectly well preserved mummies sitting just like the were 700 years ago. We lined up to take pictures.

After lunch we gathered our gear and hit the trail again, next destination, Puerto Inca. Now to me this is where my Inca trail started. See the Incas used this strategically located fishing village as the shipping point for fresh sea food being brought to the Inca all the way to his empire in Cuzco some 600 km away. The Inca people did this route on foot using a relay system and could deliver sea food still fresh. It would take us 3 days of hard riding to reach Cuzco, I cant imagine running along this trail carrying a dead fish, knowing that I’ll get beheaded if I don’t get there in time.

We left the picturesque Puerto Inca and headed to Cuzco, this ride would take us 3 days. We went from the sea side village, across the Ica Desert, up into the Andes Mountains, across high plateaus through deep gorges, around a thousand hair pin turns on rough gravel road. This is the only road, to Cuzco, everything is either brought in on this terrible road or is flown in. Those are your choices. Many interesting things were seen in this journey but the real magic started 10 miles outside of Cuzco. It had gotten dark on us again, we were creeping along, the road was wet from the snow which had just fallen. This is hard riding, because we had already ridden 300km in about 10 hours so your body and mind are exhausted, a good recipe for a mistake. Then it happened, we rounded yet another hair pin turn and the full moon had poked its bad self out between the two mountains east of Cuzco, just like the girls face in the airport. In the valley below laid the Imperial City of Cuzco in all its twinkling lights. Spirits were immediately recharged and we rode into town like super charged cowboys.

Cuzco is where it’s at, but you may not realize it as much if you fly into town, I think you really need to see that 3 days of bad road to help you appreciate just exactly how cool Cuzco is. First off, the town is full of hippies of all nationalities, every square inch of side walk is taken up with vendors selling the neatest souvenirs I’ve ever seen. Hats and sweaters socks, beads, rings, jewelry, Guinea pig on a stick. All the while traditional pan flute music wafts through the square in a truly enchanting way. Traffic is non stop, every car is a taxi and 1/3 of the cars are old Volkswagen beetles and busses, even the old split window busses which command top dollar here in the states, they are driven daily. There are no stop signs and only a couple of lights in town, so its risky business any time you got near the street. Car horns beep so continuously that it becomes music with the mysterious pan flute. Along with the voices of guys trying to sell you cigarettes, or candy or a poncho. “Is that a real poncho or a fake poncho?” I got a tour of the local market and saw things I’ve never seen, lots of things. One was a big cauldron of soup and the lady was dipping out big wads of skin and broth and the people were waiting in line. Now all the food we had had on our tour was identifiable and delicious but this was true Peruvian cuisine and they loved it.

Cuzco is a magical city and I will never forget my moments there. So we left, our group boarded the 6:30 train up the sacred valley to our destination, Machu Picchu. Every thing you have heard about South American rail roads don’t hold true on this line, it was first rate all the way, and so was the scenery. Mount —— was—–meters tall and had a big snow pack many meters thick. Inca ruins are visible from the train and the raging Rio Urubamba follows the train track. At stops, local ladies would rush onboard selling steaming ears of corn, with gigantic kernels, along with real butter and salt, delicious. After the train a bus took us the rest of the way to the gate of Machu Picchu. What a majestic place, it is much larger than it looks in the pictures and what you don’t get by looking at the picture is the location of these ancient ruins. Right smack dab on top of a mountain, way up above the clouds, you can see for miles in every direction. How did they do it I asked over and over? Then the quality of the stone work is beyond description. They didn’t have good hard steel to chisel with, they used, fire to heat the rocks and cause splits along natural lines. Then they drove in wedges of——-wood, soaked these with water and they would swell up and break the rock. Then we speculate they used stone against stone to finish fit these blocks. A block would take a man a month or more to complete. Then there is that 32 sided stone, yes it has 32 sides that fit up perfectly with maybe the next dozen building blocks. Even after seeing it and studying it I can not even draw a picture of a 32 sided stone, let alone chip one out of solid rock. This stone is in the Temple of the Sun and on June 21^st, the beginning of the Inca calendar year. Well on June 21^st the sun sets over the Sungate which is another Inca ruin some two miles away up on a hill. Well the sun drops low between the pillars of the Sun Gate and line up perfectly with the stone pillar in the Temple of the Sun and from this the Incas knew it was time for their New Year. They used this information in their planting and their partying, because still today the biggest blow out of the year is June 21^st the Inti Raymi or Sunfeast. I can’t be there but my thoughts certainly will be.

There is much more I could tell you, but I really only wanted to pique you curiosity, besides I need to get on to my lesson on giving you a reason to live. Well it’s simple, from this day forward your goal in life is to earn the skills needed to ride a motorcycle from Puerto Inca to Cuzco. You can not buy these skills you really have to earn them through experience. Here’s how to do it, tomorrow morning call your local Honda dealer and buy an XR250 dirt bike. At the same time you need to buy a helmet and boots and gloves and goggles and this list could go on but you need some essentials. Then you practice every day. Practice starting it and pushing it around and parking it, practice maintenance on it, ride it to the store every chance you get. Worship your new little bike, it will give you so much back. Ride your bike until you have worn out a pair of boots and you buy new ones, when the 2^nd pair are about half worn out, you should be ready to tackle a ride like this. Motorcycling is a sport of skill not sheer brute strength. You can learn these skills, you have to learn these skills. When you go to the gym you will have a long term goal in mind, “I’m endurance training so I can ride a motorcycle to Machu Picchu”. This thought will make time at he gym more fun than struggling with the stair bastard just to fit in those 38″ jeans. Won’t it be fun taking up a new exciting hobby, just getting to tell your friends you are doing something ballsy. A new hobby that is not a dead end but one that will allow you freedom of the world?

So there I hope you are not disappointed in my secrets to life, you may have expected more, but this recipe works for me, and I wanted to share it with you. I also wanted to share the beauty of Peru with you, I hope you like the pictures I’ve painted with these words, maybe you feel like you would like to see some of the things I’ve described. Maybe just one person out of the thousands that read this article will actually rekindle their motorcycle spirit and test them selves on this route to Machu Picchu. Then my work here stacking up these words will be considered a total success, that would be the absolute perfect ending to my own perfect trip. Please, for me and you, and Flavio and Burt reach for more out of life.