On my way out of town from Huancabamba, while waiting for the colectivo taxi to take me to Pozuzo; I decided to take a quick side trip to see some ruins. There were a few motorcycle taxi’s nearby and I recognized one gentlemen who had given me a ride to the Hostal the day before.
Bouncing along the dirt road full of potholes with intermittent shallow streams, on the old bike badly in need of new rear struts or shocks for ten kilometers, one hand gripping a rear tie down bar accumulating vibration fatigue, and the other holding my camera bag, we rolled up on the site. I was thinking what an adventure.
The site while old turned out to be an aqueduct of sorts, possibly built by the original settlers, or Spanish. I was told the spring originated far up the mountainside, but the structure visible before me was all that remained of the aqueduct.