Published 2008-02-23

Breathtaking transport

Sheer drops. Hairpin bends. Aggressive traffic and thin air that forces one’s lungs to fight for every breath as though one’s life were at stake. Every day, José Astete Torres drives his Volvo FH up to almost 5,000 metres above sea level to pick up a load of zinc from the mines in Peru’s mountainous heartland. Welcome aboard on a journey guaranteed to test the limits of man and machine alike.

I

t is early morning and the clouds from the Pacific Ocean have parked as usual over Lima. Above the Peruvian capital with its multi-million population, a thick layer of cloud bathes everything in a uniform greyish hue.

Well, almost everything. A decal showing a small eagle stuck below one headlamp on a golden-yellow Volvo FH12 glows in every colour of the rainbow, as though it has taken over the sun’s rays all by itself. As José Astete Torres performs his regular safety check on his truck, it is this little eagle that catches his last glance before he climbs nimbly up into the cab to set off on his day’s shift.

“That’s my lucky charm,” he says and smiles quietly. He explains: “The eagle is the very symbol of strength and precision. It can dive down from an immense altitude, strike with millimetre precision at a fleeing animal and then power upwards again, carrying its heavy prey in its claws. These are the same properties I expect of my truck – and that’s why the eagle is so important to me.”

In another few hours’ time I’ll understand just what he means. At the moment, however, the need for a good-luck charm doesn’t seem particularly urgent. We’re parked in a fenced-off garage right beside Lima’s industrial port. The cargo platform is empty and the fuel tank is full. It’s a quiet morning, even though the gradually increasing noise level from the city beyond the front gate says the picture is soon going to be quite different.

José Astete torres is a truck driver for Simsa, a company that for almost 65 years has been one of Peru’s leading producers of zinc and lead. The company’s output of 65 thousand tonnes a year is shipped to mineral-hungry industries the world over.

The garage is José’s starting-point. Every second day he starts off from here to fetch his load of zinc concentrate, a kind of refined zinc ore, from the company’s mine in San Ignacio more than 300 kilometres away in the country’s heartland. Or rather: in the country’s “upland”. Because to get to the mine, he has to climb up to 5,000 metres above sea level. He has to cross the top of the Andes mountain chain, pass through three climate zones and navigate through what can be referred to politely as somewhat chaotic traffic, before it’s time to turn around and head back for home with a full load on board.

And all that within the space of a few hours. It starts as soon as we leave the garage. José crawls along the congested roads of the port district. Even at this speed he has to brake to negotiate potholes or just to avoid other road-users determined to steal his particular patch of tarmac in the increasingly hectic morning rush-hour traffic.

“The traffic is the toughest part of my job, especially the buses,” he says and points to a white minibus which with its accelerator to the floor and people hanging on in the open doorway swerves abruptly into our lane just a metre or so in front of the huge Volvo’s front bumper.

“Many of these drivers have never had a driver’s licence, they’re always in a hurry and when they turn they don’t bother with luxuries like turn indicators or any other signals. We generally plan our driving to follow the bus routes. It’s far safer to shadow them than to meet them when they’re out hunting for passengers!”

After an hour or so we pass Lima’s city limits. As the bustling metropolis disappears behind us, the air clears. The sun appears in the sky. The road’s steadily steeper gradient is firm proof of where we are headed: up the mythical slopes of the famous Andes.

I can trace Peru’s centuries-old Inca heritage in the rural population’s colourful clothing, the twisted contours of the terraced farming plots and the occasional tongue-twister of a village name. Here, in the very heart of South America, the Inca Indians created an advanced civilisation long before the Spaniards and Portuguese found their way here from faraway Europe.

When we’re just over halfway up the mountain side, at about 3,000 metres, the air suddenly begins to taste and feel noticeably thinner. Every movement is an effort, every heartbeat a reminder of the tough conditions outside our cab windows.

Select country www.volvotrucks.com Copyright & privacy