Thanking the luthier for his time, I jumped back on the bike and followed the Guitar Route eastward. Soon, the narrow mountain roaThe temperature and humidity rose as the ribbon of road snaked down the slopes of the Andes, revealing the slow-moving waters of the Upano River and the endless green expanse below. Small farms and ramshackle houses gave way to fresh fruit stands and bare-bellied kids running around, the heavy clouds now broken apart by sunshine.



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