When our resident adventure cowboy set his sights on Peru, it wasn’t for a race or a record. It was for the pure joy of bikepacking — 900km along the spine of the Andes with nothing but towering peaks, freezing nights, and his titanium mini to carry him through. This is the story of how rider and machine took on the Peru Great Divide, and why it’s a journey he’ll never forget.

It had been years since I’d flown to a completely new country with my bike for an adventure that wasn’t a race. No pressure, no checkpoints, no expectations—just two and a half weeks, towering mountains, and my titanium mini. A journey full of challenges, greater rewards, and the kind of views that stop you in your tracks.

A LUCKY TWIST OF FATE

The week before I left for Peru, I was scrolling through Instagram when a story popped up from my mate Steve back in the UK: “Last preparations for Peru.” I messaged him immediately: “Steve, are you going to Peru? I’m going to Peru—on Friday!”

By pure chance, we’d both made separate plans to ride the first 900 km of the Peru Great Divide—a rugged off-road route that traces the spine of the Andes. Our dates matched almost perfectly, and suddenly I had a partner for the ride. In mountains this wild, that’s no small comfort.

RACING ROOTS, BIKEPACKING MINDSET

Before ultra-racing, I had done plenty of bikepacking around the world. But racing in far-flung, remote places on my own has left me more confident about being out in these wild spaces. Even though ultras feel solitary, there’s always a safety net: organisers, trackers, fellow riders somewhere out there. On a trip like this, it’s different—there’s no one watching, no dots on a map. Just you and the road. But that racing experience has made me more relaxed when bikepacking—better at handling the unknown.

Steve turned out to be an excellent teammate. Also with an Ultra racing background, and a track rider’s workhorse mentality, he could power through long stretches but was equally enthusiastic about food and coffee stops. He climbed faster than me, but faffed more at breaks—we balanced each other very well.

LIFE IN THE ANDES

The Andes is the world’s longest continental mountain range, and parts of its Pacific side rank among the driest places on earth. For thousands of years, people here have adapted to an unforgiving climate.

We timed our ride for Peru’s winter, the dry season, which meant crisp skies but bitter cold at altitude. Nights dropped to -8°C, freezing our bottles solid. Sometimes it stayed cold until midday, all under that deceptively bright blue sky.

FINDING CONNECTION

One of the trip’s highlights for me had nothing to do with the terrain and everything to do with people. In past adventures—Kyrgyzstan, Morocco, Sri Lanka—I often felt the barrier of language. But in Peru, being fluent in Spanish meant I could ask questions, crack jokes, and actually connect. Every conversation, however small, was a chance to learn, to laugh, and to feel part of the place. The kindness and warmth of the people we met left as strong an impression as the landscapes.

HIGH AND BREATHLESS

Altitude was my biggest worry going in. We spent days above 4,000 m, often pushing toward 4,500–4,800 m. Early on, I was constantly short of breath. But the body adapts—slowly, steadily. Each day felt like training the lungs a little further, stretching the limits. Everyone responds differently, but with rest, patience, and persistence, adaptation comes.

THE FINAL STRETCH

As the mountains rolled on, fatigue began to creep in. Luckily, our schedule was loose. We took rest when needed, which made all the difference. For the last 200 km, I rode alone—Steve had to leave early for his flight. Riding solo again felt like closing a circle.

REFLECTIONS IN HUANCAVELICA

I rolled into Huancavelica exhausted but elated. Peru had given me more than I expected: staggering scenery, the strength of my body to carry me through it, the kindness of its people, and, maybe most importantly, the reminder that adventure doesn’t have to be a race.

Hard work still brought rewards, but on my own terms—slower, lighter, more joyful. Peru is a trip I’ll never forget.

All words by Allan Shaw follow on Instagram: @allanshawphoto