1/10/2013 Chilecito to Piedra Pintada
D78, T6/9, Av12.4, Max 65, Tot 19796, 10,430
Fine, mild
Well, after 6 days in Chilecito it was time to move on. Last night was spent around at Corina and Fabians, just chatting and mucking about with the kids and their homework.
They were studying the diminutive. I love words in Spanish describing small things, like un momentito, las ninitas son comiendo ellas comida a la mesita en sillitas. Ellas son comiendo con cucharitas de platitos.
Corina and I were mucking around with these words describing things, small. Though we were cracking up having fun, it sublimely made me learn these words.
For example a small friend or little friend is amiguito/a
Awaking in the morning I had to wander into town to buy another mate, my old one had cracked, the gourd was very thin.
Some money was required from the ATM, believe it, or not the rate after costs was 5.1 pesos for an $A. This is nearly half what I got on the streets of Salta.
One would assume if the street exchangers are giving up to 9.3 pesos for a $US, these same dealers are making a profit elsewhere.
My guess is the elite and wealthy class here in Argentina are buying these dollars for 10 pesos or more and are stashing it or getting it out of the country.
It makes me sad for the people of Argentina when their leaders and other wealthy people have no confidence in their own country’s currency.
This will ultimately undermine their economy.
Maybe, they should adopt Ecuador’s solution. That of, making the $US the currency of the nation.
This attitude by the elite makes it very difficult for normal people to get ahead. Young cyclists told me that is just what these people want, so sad for the ever so friendly normal people that are the essence of this nation
In shops if the change is 3 pesos or less, they will give you sweets for change.
The ride from town was all downhill to Nañogasta, then a steady climb was on for the rest of the day.
It was great to be back in the fresh air again and on the move.
Ruta 40, the road I was on, had signage up to say it was closed for road works for four days.
Anyway, I kept going, surely a bike could get through. The road followed the Rio Miranda for some time. Irrigation ditches were often heard moving water to where it was needed to grow things. Often walnuts or small plots of grapes.
Once the climbing started in the Sierra Sanogasta. Six days off began showing itself.
It was hard work, though, like always, time was not an issue, or was any particular place to be at the end of the day.
Soon gravel started and arrival at some rock filled drums across the road signaled the area where the guys were working.
Soon, their work site was arrived at. They were placing dynamite and fertilizer down bore holes in the rock to blow a corner out on a particularly steep section of the road.
The rock was incredibly hard.
They were a good bunch of guys. They gave me a big 400mm long sausage shaped soft pack of dynamite to hold .I told them “ Esto es el Chorizo de las carrateras!” We all laughed and chatted for some time, they gave me water and one guy helped me push the bike over the shattered rock from the last blast.
Once at the top, it was a bit chilly, on the way down a stop was made at Cuesta De Miranda for a drink.
The woman told me they have lots of snakes and foxes out here.
Her outdoor oven was for bread and meat. That meat not being from perritos a gatitos. She assured me of this!
We talked for a fair while and my longs were put on. Well unbelievably, forty minutes later I could hardly walk.
My muscles in on the upper sides of my thighs were killing me.
It had been sometime since riding up a range, six days off and the cold didn’t help.
It was so painful riding on. Luckily, it was downhill. A painful meander was made till about 1830. It is now not getting dark till 2000. A sign was passed, informing me the altitude is now only 500m. The closest to sea level I have been for months.
A camp was found behind a pile of gravel, only just out of site of the road.
Still in pain, soup with carnita was enjoyed, before crawling into my sleeping bag.
Once again, it is now like a summer camping trip, only just a bit nippy at night.
Hopefully my muscles will have settled down tomorrow??
2/10/2013 Piedra Pintada to 10km south of Pagancillo
D50, T3/7, Av16, Max54, Tot 19,846, 10,093
Like summer
Entering the road about 0930, no sooner than I had got onto the asphalt, another couple of cyclists were approaching from the south.
They were a young Dutch couple who were riding from Buenos Aires north for however long they wanted to.
They were great to chat with and got into touring when in Laos, they were backpacking and saw some touring cyclists and then and there got rid of their backpacks and bought 2 cheap mountain bikes and a tent.
Great story. About half an hour later another solo guy, Adrian pulled up heading south like me. He too was Dutch. They all spoke good English.
We all chatted about routes, gear and every other thing.
Adrian was a minimalist with little gear and had been on the road for sometime. He too was heading to Patagonia. Though had to do 94km a day to make his plane in BA, in December some time.
A big call, not allowing for the unknown.
He took my bike for a ride to feel what a few comforts felt like to haul along.
The Dutch couple, forget your names, sorry guys, had lovely hand built Dutch touring bikes with ultra hi-tech hydraulic rim brakes, that moved onto the rims perfectly square, so as to minimise wear.
My rims are fairly badly cupped, where the brake pads make contact. I feel I may have to be prepared to replace them soon. The weight greatly increases wear by the brake pads.
I hope to at least, make arrangements in Santiago to locate a shop with touring rims and have some sent south in the event of problems.
They had a power generating front hub on one bike and Rohloff internal gear hub gears on both.
All this gear is reliable, though we both agreed that parts were unobtainable here in South America.
They had to get a rim flown from Holland earlier on.
In my mind, any piece of machinery is only as good as the weakest part and that part has to be readily available anywhere with respect to bikes.
My advice is when cycling here in SA, use 26”rims, Shrader valves and basic V brakes.
The reality is you are never really more than a few days from electricity, unless you are lost or purposely going well of the beaten track.
We agreed, they said they had never used their battery charger.
The rear hub has 3% friction and the front one for the lights was 1% friction, not much, but over 20,000 km it adds up.
The time went fast, we ended up chatting till 1345, I was nearly tempted to head straight back to last night’s camp.
We all commented on how we like the concept of never knowing what each day will bring, coupled with the immense freedom and closeness with the surrounding environment, that comes with this form of travel.
We also laughed at the option to eat almost anything and not put on weight.
Anyway, we finally parted, it had been a great morning. My legs got an unexpected break.
Adrian and I headed off. He was going to Villa Unión, I was turning to the left at Puerto Allegre to Pagancillo, then onto Parque Nacional Talampaya.
It was about 12 km down the road, we bade farewell wishing each other fair winds and safe travels.
Looking at the others light bikes, it seems only 50 plus year olds get to carry mallets for tent pegs, fry pans and a camping stool!. All with a 3 man tent.
For me I had 20 odd km of flat, gravel road.
It was soft and corrugated. I lost it on quite a few occasions, though didn’t drop the bike. Corrugations always require checking the gear. It is always clipped on with small carabiners.
Cargo nets are so handy in this respect. I use three.
On the outside of my bags is carried a spare sweat shirt, rubbish bag, helmet, cracker biscuits, toilet paper, my stool, pot, water bladder, peak hat, sandals or runners, mate, bag of spices and any food bought that day for example bread and veges or fruit.
It all has to be secure.
It was nice to be riding in sandals again.
Near Pagancillo, I pulled into a rural property and got water. Even out here, it was reticulated. The woman grew alfalfa for horses on her property.
She had a bunch of Greyhounds, friendly critters, they greeted me at the gate.
My water bladder was filled.
In Pagancillo, bread, Dulce de leche and veges were bought. Butter was bought as a treat.
The Argentineans are incredibly friendly, always wanting to chat. They see a lot of cyclists on this road.
The landscape is still flat and very desert like with only small trees and shrubs about. Dry sandy watercourses are still everywhere.
Traffic was light, with only a few buses, trucks and the odd car.
It is a pleasure cruising along, sometimes with music playing or occasional Spanish tapes playing, though much of the time just the noise of the wind and tyres on the road is listened to.
Soon a creek bed was found with a meander in it upstream, that hid me from the road.
Once again, a soft thorn free site was found.
Fried potatoes and bread were enjoyed.
It did cross my mind, the calamity that rain way up stream would cause. I soon put any thought of this out of my head.
In future though, this does bear consideration as the road takes me further south.
One species of tree growing on the creek bank near me had thorns nearly two inches long. It was unbearable to think of the consequences of being stabbed somewhere by one of these.
3/10/2013 Sth of Pagancillo o a large rock 12km sth of the park entrance
D22, t1.5, Av15, Max25, tot19868, 11,115
Again it was a mild morning. Only a coffee was had for breakfast as the wind got up quite early.
Some 15km down the road was the entrance to Parque Nacional Talampaya. Riding up to the carpark, there were zorritos wandering about, (small foxes). They were amazing little things, but as true to any fox, they were sly, always keeping their distance.
On enquiry at the office, it was found you cannot enter the park without a guide.
Asking the guys in the guide office they let me leave the bike with them.
The walking tour was opted for.
A guy from BA, was going with us, he offered to take me down to the canyon in his car.
Myself and Rodolfo and another young couple, also from BA came with us.
The walk through these canyons that get only 150mm of rain a year but in torrential down pours, was truly fascinating.
The red rocks from oxidised iron were so colourful in the light.
We saw rheas, a flightless bird, guanacos, a member of the llama family and maras, a small tapir like animal.
Though, for me of special significance was seeing a few Condors soaring above the 150m high red cliffs.
Seeing one of these birds was another milestone in this South American journey.
The Condor, for me, is one of nature’s great symbols of true freedom. One of the birds landed high on a cliff top. Even though the cliff was huge. The great bird could still be seen, quite clearly.
As the world gets further populated and more and more people live in cities. True freedom continues to diminish for individuals.
We talk about freedom and speech, religion etc. These freedoms are many rungs up the ladder from proper freedom. Most people living in modern societies have all but forgotten what freedom is.
Reflecting on this concept. It is very special for me to be experiencing proper freedom to a greater extent.
In a normal day out here in the Argentinean desert, the only law I abide by is riding on the correct side of the road. Otherwise, I am totally free. I can sleep anywhere, I can choose, and be anywhere at any time.
Comparing this, to my life in Coffs Harbour, Australia, or anywhere for that matter.
One is so far from being truly free, it is ridiculous. Rules and laws govern your life from the moment you leave your property. Many, also govern you whilst on your property and even inside your own home.
Oh, such is society today!
This time, on these roads, journeying south, is hard to describe, other than saying, each day is laced with eager anticipation as soon as the sun rises.
This freedom allows for this constant euphory. A state that seems to be never ending. Though I know one day, it will.
That day, at present, not contemplated. Its time will be revealed, when ready.
The walk was two and a half hours. Not having eaten all day, famished, best describes my disposition on return to the park head quarters.
Getting the bike, I headed over to the camp area and made mate and ate all I could.
The other couple gave me fruit to eat which was kind of them.
A couple pulled up in a classic, uniquely built motorhome. It looked like a gypsy set up.
The guy came over for a chat. He was from Alaska.
The afternoon was spent chatting with them about Patagonia, where they had just been. They informed me of some great out of the way places.
My experiences in Peru interested them .
Finally, getting away about 1800 hours, it had been a great day.
John had told me about a large rock that was a good camping spot some 10km down the road.
It was a kind of “What rock did you sleep behind last night?” moment.
Anyway, true to his word it was a great campsite. As the sun went down the red ranges to the east, continually changed colour as the day departed here in the La Rioja province of Argentina.
Dinner was soup with carnita, cooked under the overhang of the “large rock” that gave me shelter from the southerly wind.
4/10/2013 Large rock to south of San Augustín del Valle Fértil
D128, T6/9, Av20, max36, Tot 19996, 11,243
Mild and calm
On the road surprisingly early, without even rushing, the winds were light.
The ranges to my west, the Sierra de la Punilla had all the colour in the morning.
Riding was easy in the light winds.
After sometime, roadworks were encountered, then on further the road surface turned to road mat, it was so smooth. Good time was made .
Hunger set in, a roadside stop was made for sardines on crackers, with tobacco of course and mate.
Soon, the turnoff at Los Baldecitas was rounded. Here at a roadside Kiosco, a steak, egg and salad were enjoyed. The steaks are wafer thin and deep fried. Basic, but it is meat, my first for a week, other than tuna.
There were pueblitos along most of this road heading to Parque Natural Provincial Valle Fértil
Water was obtained from a ladys tap in Unos for the night.
A stop for bread and Dulce de leche was made in San Agustín del Valle Fértil.
This was a very touristy place that serviced the park.
Like Talampaya, this park can only be accessed with guides.
Talampaya had provided me with ample experiences, not to want to visit Fértil.
Accommodation was beyond what my budget would allow.
Some 15km down the road a great camp was found up the Santa Rosa road. For the first time since Peru, it was under a tree in country not so sandy.
Pasta with Portuguese tomato sauce and tuna was enjoyed.
Eating this, under a super clear sky, for the second night now, shooting stars have raced across the evening sky.
For me life could not get much better. The evening was mild, it was calm, my stomach was full. The sounds of some nocturnal birds were heard, the occasional car passed in the distance and the ranges were silhouetted under the starry sky.
As usual, the Southern Cross was indicating north and south, low in the western sky, only just above the ranges.
5/10/2013 Sth San Augustín to Sth of Chucuma
D60, T2.5/6, Av20, Max52, Tot 20056, 11,303
Incredibly mild and warm
It was a pleasure to be camping under a tree, without sand everywhere.
Taking my time and just enjoying the warm morning, following breakfast, my blog was updated.
I heard someone moving cattle through the trees. Sure enough about half an hour later, a tall, olive skinned man with a warm expression, wearing jeans, a collared shirt and boots came walking along the fence line towards me.
We greeted each other, he was about my age. He had spotted my tracks in the soft soil.
We had a chat, his cattle were for milk and meat, he was the administrator of the land.
He didn’t mind having me camp here.
Finally getting away about 1030, the ride was enjoyable, with heavy arid type vegetation on both sides of the road, it was still very very dry country.
With my rhythm broken hunger, soon set in, a stop was made and bread and fruit devoured.
Here my odometer was checked, a milestone of sorts had been reached.
Twenty thousand kilometres had been ridden, in the Americas over 22 months.
With 5 months spent from August to Christmas between NZ, Australia, Spain and Nicaragua.
This milestone was almost materialistic.
In contrast to being presented with a Bald Eagle feather by a Native American elder in Northern Minnesota.
Sharing a red wine and gumbo deep in the bayous of Louisiana,
enjoying a night with two blues musicians in Clarkesdale, Mississippi,
or spending Christmas day with a campesino family, swimming in a creek in rural Nicaragua,
or waiting in anticipation as the water receded from a lock in the Panama Canal on an evening passage,
and sitting atop the Andes in Northern Peru overlooking the pueblito of Límon at dusk, with an understanding of what had brought me here,
to sharing a laugh with someone who speaks a different language. Among many other delights along the way to date.
The day was incredibly hot, three other cyclists were encountered, we talked for some time. They were heading north and were from BA.
Arriving in Astica, fresh fruit and veges were bought.
In particular, the owner had really fresh asparagus, this was bought.
The pueblito had wifi in the plaza .
A stop was made here for awhile. No electricity was available, so it was a short one.
After 4 days camping, all batteries are close to spent.
A bunch of kids spent time chatting to me. They speak so clearly.
Asking me what I eat on the road while camping. Some items like pasta, soup, bread coffee etc were relayed. In the next sentence, I told them I eat dead cats and dogs off the road if they are fresh.
They looked puzzled, until I let my expression ease a little, then we all laughed, they were good kids and hung around asking me all sorts of questions, and me them, it was a good lesson in Español.
Stocked up on food, moving on, a full bladder of water was picked up from a house at Chucama. The owner of the house in the tiny pueblito off the highway told me that quite a few Pumas live in the hills around the area.
He showed me a skin from freshly killed goat and pointed to a colour on it. The Pumas are light brown, beige in colour.
Goat is eaten quite frequently here. Small groups were seen on the road several times.
Leaving here, another cyclist was encountered. He was from south of BA and had come from Ushuaia. He had to take the Atlantic coast road due to winter conditions.
He told me it was 10km downhill from here, it was 1800, still plenty of light, any easy cruise was enjoyed and camp struck behind a pile of sand covered in trees by the roadside.
The whole way had just been fenced. No other choice was in the offing. Importanly it was out of sight and relatively thorn free.
The road is still very quiet, with a good surface, though no shoulder and is still intersected by dry creeks in all the low spots. Visible animal life is restricted to soaring birds of prey, the odd pigeon, goats, dead snakes, and the odd cattle beast near the few towns encountered. A few game birds like grouse have also been seen lifting from the ground among scrub, when startled, only to make a short flight to safety.
It reminded me of Pheasant shooting at Waipatiki in NZ, many years ago.
Olives are widely grown near San Augustín.
Starving, bread and Dulce was eaten. The asparagus was so nice and tender, blanched and tossed in a chicken soup.
As the temperature warms up and life is so much more comfortable camping, along with it come pests. Before the sun went down there were flies everywhere, all over me, the food and anything else that was looking inviting.
I could not enter the tent to blow up the airbed till after dark.
A mate was enjoyed away from the tent on my stool, just star gazing and enjoying the balmy evening.
Luckily, flies like humans can’t see in the dark. Good job they know nothing about torches!
6/10/2013 sth of Chucama to west of Santuario de la Defunta Correa
D128, T5/11, Av24, Max60, Tot 20184, 1143
Hot with tail winds
Every campsite is so different, the wind was blowing freshly from early morning, by that I mean 0200.
Lying in bed, it was hard to tell what direction it was. Come daylight, its direction was felt to be from the north. Great.
The Whisperlite had trouble heating water with the winds movement of the air around camp.
Finally coffee and porridge were enjoyed.
Once on the road, my momentum was built up and it was rapid progress south, that of between 30 and 40km/hr constantly.
The road was gently undulating between dry watercourses. At one point two large birds were seen cruising the thermals, a stop was made to identify them, nothing positive was arisen at. Maybe not Condors.
Within an hour and a half, 40km had been ridden and the town of Marayes was reached, near the intersection with Ruta 41 east wast.
Here, were a couple of Kioskos. Bread was bought at one and the one over the road ice cream, 3 serves were enjoyed while charging all my electrics and penning yesterdays experiences.
They woman kindly let me use her electricity.
Time spent here was a couple of hours, there was 70km till the next stop.
The road would be a lot busier also.
These towns, are really just a group of houses in the desert. The Andes keep this part of Argentina very dry.
Westerlies off the ocean dump all their moisture crossing the Andes and are left dry and hot when they arrive here.
I bought bread from a ladys house, she had just made it.
The bread now is not baguettes, but these fry pan size loaves that are so damn heavy, only half is ever bought.
My water bladder was filled.
Soon as Ruta 41 was reached, some 4km on, the traffic increased big time, trucks galore and cars. All moving with haste.
The wind direction was now aft of my beam, still ok but more work.
It was incredibly hot, perspiration was getting my eyes.
How things change, my mind went back to all those cold days in Bolivia with Deirdre. We really were in a harsh environment. This was just so easy in the warmth.
Yesterday was one of those days where my fingerless gloves were misplaced and I become knowledgeable to the fact I had lost my battery charger for the new camera.
It had probably been left somewhere in Chilecito, oh, such is life.
I go through these patches where things sometimes are misplaced when you get side tracked.
The gloves will be easily replaced. Though, Callum, my son, will have to bring a charger from Australia with him. Ebay will be its source.
Right now, my camera battery has to last close to a month, not likely! Maybe a generic charger will be found, they are everywhere in Nicaragua.
Out on 41, with no shoulder, it was quite dangerous with passing cars coming at me now and again. A semi had just rolled over at one point, other trucks were pulled up and people standing around, my presence was not needed.
There were dust devils somewhere in the scene the whole time.
One crossed the road and caught me, it swept me off onto the gravel, luckily, its path was rapid and my balance was maintained.
Hunger soon set in after 80 odd km.
The delicious bread was almost devoured with dulce de leche.
At each larger dry creek bed, there were families having BBQ’s, there is nowhere else to go I guess.
Many vehicles were seen towing quad bikes, another very popular pastime here on Sundays in the desert.
At about 1700 hours wanting to know how close Niquizanga was, a family picnicking under a tree some 50m from the road was asked, it had already been passed, Santaurio de la Correa was the next town, some 5km on.
Many of these names on my map are really just locations, not towns.
The people asked me if I wanted a drink, not being a camel, their offer was eagerly accepted.
Anyway, within 5 minutes we were sitting down together, chatting. Along with my drink, a large piece of asado ( BBQ’ed) steak was being eaten. It was beyond description in a flavoursome sense to my taste buds.
Man, was it good, they told me that the meat is salted before cooking it, There was a crisp skin on it. Again, like with Corina and Fabian, there was plenty of meat being cooked.
The family had driven out here from San Juan.
They had their daughter and husband and grand children with them .The grandmother about my age had had a few. She was really enjoying things, it was funny.
They told me of some back roads to avoid San Juan on the way to Mendoza. More than an hour was spent enjoying their company.
The hospitality and friendliness of Argentineans astounds me, they love to chat and share their beef.
Leaving their company, it was 1800 but still warm. Not getting really dark till after 2000, there was no concern about finding a camp, even out here in this featureless landscape.
Soon arriving in Correa, a soda was bought, the lady said I could camp in the carpark.
Privacy was not one of its attributes, her offer was politely declined.
There was a brand new cycle track on the right side of the road, this was ridden with pleasure. By now, it was 1930 and the need for a camp was pressing.
Nothing was on offer in the rocky, sandy, scrubby flat terrain.
What there was, could be clearly seen from the much used road.
Getting off the bike track, some 5km on, a side road into the scrub was found. Leaving the highway without being seen, was not an option.
Often, when parking the bike to go for a look, my hands are placed around my groin to make it look like I am stopping to go to the toilet.
Here, I just rode up the track, by now it was almost dark.
The surrounds were still rocky, about 1 km up the trail a small sandy patch was located, out of site of distant cars.
Camp was set up in the dark.
These weevil type bugs were biting me the whole time, little buggers.
Thanks to my roadside hosts, only bread and coffee was for dinner.
Sleep enveloped me within 10 minutes of hitting the nest at 2130, on this mildest of calm nights. The distant lights of a town could be seen under the starry sky.
8/10/2013 Sth of Correa to Caucete, AR
D42, T2, Av18.83, Max39, Tot 20226, 11473
Close to 30°C and dry
It was a great campsite, miles from anyone and calm , tuna, pasta and tomato puree were had fore breakfast.
Last nights dinner to be precise.Early in the morning Mate was enjoying whilst doing a bit of typing.
I took my time here and left about 1000.
The ride to Caucete was pretty much all on the bike track. It was great, they had installed plaques all along the way to inform one of the flora and fauna present.
Parrot nesrts were in most trees, they make them out of a large ball of the thorniest branches they can find.
Maybe the Ozzy parrots can learn here.
Sadly, they only nest in tree hollows and many old trees are now gone in Australia. A Eucalypt tree generally does not form exposed cavities for 80 to 100 years.
Near the town, vineyards were on both sides of the road, with stalls selling preserved peaches and oth fruits. To heavy to carry, was my excuse to one lady selling them.
Once in Caucete, a generic battery charger was found. A stop was made for half an hour in a fruit shop talking to the guys.
They had a very good business, the fruit was so fresh, 6 of the best mandarins were devoured along with bananas.
Hotels were few and far between in town which really was just a big main street with speakers playing music all the way.
The Hospedaje, Melcho was chosen.
My washing was done, the water was dark brown from 6 days of dust and dirt.
Everything is always hand washed, it is best for the wool.
My sandals got a good scrub. The dry hot air had things off the line in a few hours.
Not to mention my body that got a good hot shower. I had shaved along the way. It is so difficult trying to clean up 5-6 days growth. It plays havoc with blades.
My blog is kept up to date on the road. The days journey is best documented that evening. Sometimes it is an effort and only notes are taken.
It is enjoyable writing this account of my thoughts and other things that come to mind.
Anyone riding this route can look at the days average speed to get an idea of the terrain.
Once on the bed for the evening, my tiredness hit me. The evening temperature was still about 24°.
D78, T6/9, Av12.4, Max 65, Tot 19796, 10,430
Fine, mild
Well, after 6 days in Chilecito it was time to move on. Last night was spent around at Corina and Fabians, just chatting and mucking about with the kids and their homework.
They were studying the diminutive. I love words in Spanish describing small things, like un momentito, las ninitas son comiendo ellas comida a la mesita en sillitas. Ellas son comiendo con cucharitas de platitos.
Corina and I were mucking around with these words describing things, small. Though we were cracking up having fun, it sublimely made me learn these words.
For example a small friend or little friend is amiguito/a
Awaking in the morning I had to wander into town to buy another mate, my old one had cracked, the gourd was very thin.
Some money was required from the ATM, believe it, or not the rate after costs was 5.1 pesos for an $A. This is nearly half what I got on the streets of Salta.
One would assume if the street exchangers are giving up to 9.3 pesos for a $US, these same dealers are making a profit elsewhere.
My guess is the elite and wealthy class here in Argentina are buying these dollars for 10 pesos or more and are stashing it or getting it out of the country.
It makes me sad for the people of Argentina when their leaders and other wealthy people have no confidence in their own country’s currency.
This will ultimately undermine their economy.
Maybe, they should adopt Ecuador’s solution. That of, making the $US the currency of the nation.
This attitude by the elite makes it very difficult for normal people to get ahead. Young cyclists told me that is just what these people want, so sad for the ever so friendly normal people that are the essence of this nation
In shops if the change is 3 pesos or less, they will give you sweets for change.
The ride from town was all downhill to Nañogasta, then a steady climb was on for the rest of the day.
It was great to be back in the fresh air again and on the move.
Ruta 40, the road I was on, had signage up to say it was closed for road works for four days.
Anyway, I kept going, surely a bike could get through. The road followed the Rio Miranda for some time. Irrigation ditches were often heard moving water to where it was needed to grow things. Often walnuts or small plots of grapes.
Once the climbing started in the Sierra Sanogasta. Six days off began showing itself.
It was hard work, though, like always, time was not an issue, or was any particular place to be at the end of the day.
Soon gravel started and arrival at some rock filled drums across the road signaled the area where the guys were working.
Soon, their work site was arrived at. They were placing dynamite and fertilizer down bore holes in the rock to blow a corner out on a particularly steep section of the road.
The rock was incredibly hard.
They were a good bunch of guys. They gave me a big 400mm long sausage shaped soft pack of dynamite to hold .I told them “ Esto es el Chorizo de las carrateras!” We all laughed and chatted for some time, they gave me water and one guy helped me push the bike over the shattered rock from the last blast.
Once at the top, it was a bit chilly, on the way down a stop was made at Cuesta De Miranda for a drink.
The woman told me they have lots of snakes and foxes out here.
Her outdoor oven was for bread and meat. That meat not being from perritos a gatitos. She assured me of this!
We talked for a fair while and my longs were put on. Well unbelievably, forty minutes later I could hardly walk.
My muscles in on the upper sides of my thighs were killing me.
It had been sometime since riding up a range, six days off and the cold didn’t help.
It was so painful riding on. Luckily, it was downhill. A painful meander was made till about 1830. It is now not getting dark till 2000. A sign was passed, informing me the altitude is now only 500m. The closest to sea level I have been for months.
A camp was found behind a pile of gravel, only just out of site of the road.
Still in pain, soup with carnita was enjoyed, before crawling into my sleeping bag.
Once again, it is now like a summer camping trip, only just a bit nippy at night.
Hopefully my muscles will have settled down tomorrow??
2/10/2013 Piedra Pintada to 10km south of Pagancillo
D50, T3/7, Av16, Max54, Tot 19,846, 10,093
Like summer
Entering the road about 0930, no sooner than I had got onto the asphalt, another couple of cyclists were approaching from the south.
They were a young Dutch couple who were riding from Buenos Aires north for however long they wanted to.
They were great to chat with and got into touring when in Laos, they were backpacking and saw some touring cyclists and then and there got rid of their backpacks and bought 2 cheap mountain bikes and a tent.
Great story. About half an hour later another solo guy, Adrian pulled up heading south like me. He too was Dutch. They all spoke good English.
We all chatted about routes, gear and every other thing.
Adrian was a minimalist with little gear and had been on the road for sometime. He too was heading to Patagonia. Though had to do 94km a day to make his plane in BA, in December some time.
A big call, not allowing for the unknown.
He took my bike for a ride to feel what a few comforts felt like to haul along.
The Dutch couple, forget your names, sorry guys, had lovely hand built Dutch touring bikes with ultra hi-tech hydraulic rim brakes, that moved onto the rims perfectly square, so as to minimise wear.
My rims are fairly badly cupped, where the brake pads make contact. I feel I may have to be prepared to replace them soon. The weight greatly increases wear by the brake pads.
I hope to at least, make arrangements in Santiago to locate a shop with touring rims and have some sent south in the event of problems.
They had a power generating front hub on one bike and Rohloff internal gear hub gears on both.
All this gear is reliable, though we both agreed that parts were unobtainable here in South America.
They had to get a rim flown from Holland earlier on.
In my mind, any piece of machinery is only as good as the weakest part and that part has to be readily available anywhere with respect to bikes.
My advice is when cycling here in SA, use 26”rims, Shrader valves and basic V brakes.
The reality is you are never really more than a few days from electricity, unless you are lost or purposely going well of the beaten track.
We agreed, they said they had never used their battery charger.
The rear hub has 3% friction and the front one for the lights was 1% friction, not much, but over 20,000 km it adds up.
The time went fast, we ended up chatting till 1345, I was nearly tempted to head straight back to last night’s camp.
We all commented on how we like the concept of never knowing what each day will bring, coupled with the immense freedom and closeness with the surrounding environment, that comes with this form of travel.
We also laughed at the option to eat almost anything and not put on weight.
Anyway, we finally parted, it had been a great morning. My legs got an unexpected break.
Adrian and I headed off. He was going to Villa Unión, I was turning to the left at Puerto Allegre to Pagancillo, then onto Parque Nacional Talampaya.
It was about 12 km down the road, we bade farewell wishing each other fair winds and safe travels.
Looking at the others light bikes, it seems only 50 plus year olds get to carry mallets for tent pegs, fry pans and a camping stool!. All with a 3 man tent.
For me I had 20 odd km of flat, gravel road.
It was soft and corrugated. I lost it on quite a few occasions, though didn’t drop the bike. Corrugations always require checking the gear. It is always clipped on with small carabiners.
Cargo nets are so handy in this respect. I use three.
On the outside of my bags is carried a spare sweat shirt, rubbish bag, helmet, cracker biscuits, toilet paper, my stool, pot, water bladder, peak hat, sandals or runners, mate, bag of spices and any food bought that day for example bread and veges or fruit.
It all has to be secure.
It was nice to be riding in sandals again.
Near Pagancillo, I pulled into a rural property and got water. Even out here, it was reticulated. The woman grew alfalfa for horses on her property.
She had a bunch of Greyhounds, friendly critters, they greeted me at the gate.
My water bladder was filled.
In Pagancillo, bread, Dulce de leche and veges were bought. Butter was bought as a treat.
The Argentineans are incredibly friendly, always wanting to chat. They see a lot of cyclists on this road.
The landscape is still flat and very desert like with only small trees and shrubs about. Dry sandy watercourses are still everywhere.
Traffic was light, with only a few buses, trucks and the odd car.
It is a pleasure cruising along, sometimes with music playing or occasional Spanish tapes playing, though much of the time just the noise of the wind and tyres on the road is listened to.
Soon a creek bed was found with a meander in it upstream, that hid me from the road.
Once again, a soft thorn free site was found.
Fried potatoes and bread were enjoyed.
It did cross my mind, the calamity that rain way up stream would cause. I soon put any thought of this out of my head.
In future though, this does bear consideration as the road takes me further south.
One species of tree growing on the creek bank near me had thorns nearly two inches long. It was unbearable to think of the consequences of being stabbed somewhere by one of these.
3/10/2013 Sth of Pagancillo o a large rock 12km sth of the park entrance
D22, t1.5, Av15, Max25, tot19868, 11,115
Again it was a mild morning. Only a coffee was had for breakfast as the wind got up quite early.
Some 15km down the road was the entrance to Parque Nacional Talampaya. Riding up to the carpark, there were zorritos wandering about, (small foxes). They were amazing little things, but as true to any fox, they were sly, always keeping their distance.
On enquiry at the office, it was found you cannot enter the park without a guide.
Asking the guys in the guide office they let me leave the bike with them.
The walking tour was opted for.
A guy from BA, was going with us, he offered to take me down to the canyon in his car.
Myself and Rodolfo and another young couple, also from BA came with us.
The walk through these canyons that get only 150mm of rain a year but in torrential down pours, was truly fascinating.
The red rocks from oxidised iron were so colourful in the light.
We saw rheas, a flightless bird, guanacos, a member of the llama family and maras, a small tapir like animal.
Though, for me of special significance was seeing a few Condors soaring above the 150m high red cliffs.
Seeing one of these birds was another milestone in this South American journey.
The Condor, for me, is one of nature’s great symbols of true freedom. One of the birds landed high on a cliff top. Even though the cliff was huge. The great bird could still be seen, quite clearly.
As the world gets further populated and more and more people live in cities. True freedom continues to diminish for individuals.
We talk about freedom and speech, religion etc. These freedoms are many rungs up the ladder from proper freedom. Most people living in modern societies have all but forgotten what freedom is.
Reflecting on this concept. It is very special for me to be experiencing proper freedom to a greater extent.
In a normal day out here in the Argentinean desert, the only law I abide by is riding on the correct side of the road. Otherwise, I am totally free. I can sleep anywhere, I can choose, and be anywhere at any time.
Comparing this, to my life in Coffs Harbour, Australia, or anywhere for that matter.
One is so far from being truly free, it is ridiculous. Rules and laws govern your life from the moment you leave your property. Many, also govern you whilst on your property and even inside your own home.
Oh, such is society today!
This time, on these roads, journeying south, is hard to describe, other than saying, each day is laced with eager anticipation as soon as the sun rises.
This freedom allows for this constant euphory. A state that seems to be never ending. Though I know one day, it will.
That day, at present, not contemplated. Its time will be revealed, when ready.
The walk was two and a half hours. Not having eaten all day, famished, best describes my disposition on return to the park head quarters.
Getting the bike, I headed over to the camp area and made mate and ate all I could.
The other couple gave me fruit to eat which was kind of them.
A couple pulled up in a classic, uniquely built motorhome. It looked like a gypsy set up.
The guy came over for a chat. He was from Alaska.
The afternoon was spent chatting with them about Patagonia, where they had just been. They informed me of some great out of the way places.
My experiences in Peru interested them .
Finally, getting away about 1800 hours, it had been a great day.
John had told me about a large rock that was a good camping spot some 10km down the road.
It was a kind of “What rock did you sleep behind last night?” moment.
Anyway, true to his word it was a great campsite. As the sun went down the red ranges to the east, continually changed colour as the day departed here in the La Rioja province of Argentina.
Dinner was soup with carnita, cooked under the overhang of the “large rock” that gave me shelter from the southerly wind.
4/10/2013 Large rock to south of San Augustín del Valle Fértil
D128, T6/9, Av20, max36, Tot 19996, 11,243
Mild and calm
On the road surprisingly early, without even rushing, the winds were light.
The ranges to my west, the Sierra de la Punilla had all the colour in the morning.
Riding was easy in the light winds.
After sometime, roadworks were encountered, then on further the road surface turned to road mat, it was so smooth. Good time was made .
Hunger set in, a roadside stop was made for sardines on crackers, with tobacco of course and mate.
Soon, the turnoff at Los Baldecitas was rounded. Here at a roadside Kiosco, a steak, egg and salad were enjoyed. The steaks are wafer thin and deep fried. Basic, but it is meat, my first for a week, other than tuna.
There were pueblitos along most of this road heading to Parque Natural Provincial Valle Fértil
Water was obtained from a ladys tap in Unos for the night.
A stop for bread and Dulce de leche was made in San Agustín del Valle Fértil.
This was a very touristy place that serviced the park.
Like Talampaya, this park can only be accessed with guides.
Talampaya had provided me with ample experiences, not to want to visit Fértil.
Accommodation was beyond what my budget would allow.
Some 15km down the road a great camp was found up the Santa Rosa road. For the first time since Peru, it was under a tree in country not so sandy.
Pasta with Portuguese tomato sauce and tuna was enjoyed.
Eating this, under a super clear sky, for the second night now, shooting stars have raced across the evening sky.
For me life could not get much better. The evening was mild, it was calm, my stomach was full. The sounds of some nocturnal birds were heard, the occasional car passed in the distance and the ranges were silhouetted under the starry sky.
As usual, the Southern Cross was indicating north and south, low in the western sky, only just above the ranges.
5/10/2013 Sth San Augustín to Sth of Chucuma
D60, T2.5/6, Av20, Max52, Tot 20056, 11,303
Incredibly mild and warm
It was a pleasure to be camping under a tree, without sand everywhere.
Taking my time and just enjoying the warm morning, following breakfast, my blog was updated.
I heard someone moving cattle through the trees. Sure enough about half an hour later, a tall, olive skinned man with a warm expression, wearing jeans, a collared shirt and boots came walking along the fence line towards me.
We greeted each other, he was about my age. He had spotted my tracks in the soft soil.
We had a chat, his cattle were for milk and meat, he was the administrator of the land.
He didn’t mind having me camp here.
Finally getting away about 1030, the ride was enjoyable, with heavy arid type vegetation on both sides of the road, it was still very very dry country.
With my rhythm broken hunger, soon set in, a stop was made and bread and fruit devoured.
Here my odometer was checked, a milestone of sorts had been reached.
Twenty thousand kilometres had been ridden, in the Americas over 22 months.
With 5 months spent from August to Christmas between NZ, Australia, Spain and Nicaragua.
This milestone was almost materialistic.
In contrast to being presented with a Bald Eagle feather by a Native American elder in Northern Minnesota.
Sharing a red wine and gumbo deep in the bayous of Louisiana,
enjoying a night with two blues musicians in Clarkesdale, Mississippi,
or spending Christmas day with a campesino family, swimming in a creek in rural Nicaragua,
or waiting in anticipation as the water receded from a lock in the Panama Canal on an evening passage,
and sitting atop the Andes in Northern Peru overlooking the pueblito of Límon at dusk, with an understanding of what had brought me here,
to sharing a laugh with someone who speaks a different language. Among many other delights along the way to date.
The day was incredibly hot, three other cyclists were encountered, we talked for some time. They were heading north and were from BA.
Arriving in Astica, fresh fruit and veges were bought.
In particular, the owner had really fresh asparagus, this was bought.
The pueblito had wifi in the plaza .
A stop was made here for awhile. No electricity was available, so it was a short one.
After 4 days camping, all batteries are close to spent.
A bunch of kids spent time chatting to me. They speak so clearly.
Asking me what I eat on the road while camping. Some items like pasta, soup, bread coffee etc were relayed. In the next sentence, I told them I eat dead cats and dogs off the road if they are fresh.
They looked puzzled, until I let my expression ease a little, then we all laughed, they were good kids and hung around asking me all sorts of questions, and me them, it was a good lesson in Español.
Stocked up on food, moving on, a full bladder of water was picked up from a house at Chucama. The owner of the house in the tiny pueblito off the highway told me that quite a few Pumas live in the hills around the area.
He showed me a skin from freshly killed goat and pointed to a colour on it. The Pumas are light brown, beige in colour.
Goat is eaten quite frequently here. Small groups were seen on the road several times.
Leaving here, another cyclist was encountered. He was from south of BA and had come from Ushuaia. He had to take the Atlantic coast road due to winter conditions.
He told me it was 10km downhill from here, it was 1800, still plenty of light, any easy cruise was enjoyed and camp struck behind a pile of sand covered in trees by the roadside.
The whole way had just been fenced. No other choice was in the offing. Importanly it was out of sight and relatively thorn free.
The road is still very quiet, with a good surface, though no shoulder and is still intersected by dry creeks in all the low spots. Visible animal life is restricted to soaring birds of prey, the odd pigeon, goats, dead snakes, and the odd cattle beast near the few towns encountered. A few game birds like grouse have also been seen lifting from the ground among scrub, when startled, only to make a short flight to safety.
It reminded me of Pheasant shooting at Waipatiki in NZ, many years ago.
Olives are widely grown near San Augustín.
Starving, bread and Dulce was eaten. The asparagus was so nice and tender, blanched and tossed in a chicken soup.
As the temperature warms up and life is so much more comfortable camping, along with it come pests. Before the sun went down there were flies everywhere, all over me, the food and anything else that was looking inviting.
I could not enter the tent to blow up the airbed till after dark.
A mate was enjoyed away from the tent on my stool, just star gazing and enjoying the balmy evening.
Luckily, flies like humans can’t see in the dark. Good job they know nothing about torches!
6/10/2013 sth of Chucama to west of Santuario de la Defunta Correa
D128, T5/11, Av24, Max60, Tot 20184, 1143
Hot with tail winds
Every campsite is so different, the wind was blowing freshly from early morning, by that I mean 0200.
Lying in bed, it was hard to tell what direction it was. Come daylight, its direction was felt to be from the north. Great.
The Whisperlite had trouble heating water with the winds movement of the air around camp.
Finally coffee and porridge were enjoyed.
Once on the road, my momentum was built up and it was rapid progress south, that of between 30 and 40km/hr constantly.
The road was gently undulating between dry watercourses. At one point two large birds were seen cruising the thermals, a stop was made to identify them, nothing positive was arisen at. Maybe not Condors.
Within an hour and a half, 40km had been ridden and the town of Marayes was reached, near the intersection with Ruta 41 east wast.
Here, were a couple of Kioskos. Bread was bought at one and the one over the road ice cream, 3 serves were enjoyed while charging all my electrics and penning yesterdays experiences.
They woman kindly let me use her electricity.
Time spent here was a couple of hours, there was 70km till the next stop.
The road would be a lot busier also.
These towns, are really just a group of houses in the desert. The Andes keep this part of Argentina very dry.
Westerlies off the ocean dump all their moisture crossing the Andes and are left dry and hot when they arrive here.
I bought bread from a ladys house, she had just made it.
The bread now is not baguettes, but these fry pan size loaves that are so damn heavy, only half is ever bought.
My water bladder was filled.
Soon as Ruta 41 was reached, some 4km on, the traffic increased big time, trucks galore and cars. All moving with haste.
The wind direction was now aft of my beam, still ok but more work.
It was incredibly hot, perspiration was getting my eyes.
How things change, my mind went back to all those cold days in Bolivia with Deirdre. We really were in a harsh environment. This was just so easy in the warmth.
Yesterday was one of those days where my fingerless gloves were misplaced and I become knowledgeable to the fact I had lost my battery charger for the new camera.
It had probably been left somewhere in Chilecito, oh, such is life.
I go through these patches where things sometimes are misplaced when you get side tracked.
The gloves will be easily replaced. Though, Callum, my son, will have to bring a charger from Australia with him. Ebay will be its source.
Right now, my camera battery has to last close to a month, not likely! Maybe a generic charger will be found, they are everywhere in Nicaragua.
Out on 41, with no shoulder, it was quite dangerous with passing cars coming at me now and again. A semi had just rolled over at one point, other trucks were pulled up and people standing around, my presence was not needed.
There were dust devils somewhere in the scene the whole time.
One crossed the road and caught me, it swept me off onto the gravel, luckily, its path was rapid and my balance was maintained.
Hunger soon set in after 80 odd km.
The delicious bread was almost devoured with dulce de leche.
At each larger dry creek bed, there were families having BBQ’s, there is nowhere else to go I guess.
Many vehicles were seen towing quad bikes, another very popular pastime here on Sundays in the desert.
At about 1700 hours wanting to know how close Niquizanga was, a family picnicking under a tree some 50m from the road was asked, it had already been passed, Santaurio de la Correa was the next town, some 5km on.
Many of these names on my map are really just locations, not towns.
The people asked me if I wanted a drink, not being a camel, their offer was eagerly accepted.
Anyway, within 5 minutes we were sitting down together, chatting. Along with my drink, a large piece of asado ( BBQ’ed) steak was being eaten. It was beyond description in a flavoursome sense to my taste buds.
Man, was it good, they told me that the meat is salted before cooking it, There was a crisp skin on it. Again, like with Corina and Fabian, there was plenty of meat being cooked.
The family had driven out here from San Juan.
They had their daughter and husband and grand children with them .The grandmother about my age had had a few. She was really enjoying things, it was funny.
They told me of some back roads to avoid San Juan on the way to Mendoza. More than an hour was spent enjoying their company.
The hospitality and friendliness of Argentineans astounds me, they love to chat and share their beef.
Leaving their company, it was 1800 but still warm. Not getting really dark till after 2000, there was no concern about finding a camp, even out here in this featureless landscape.
Soon arriving in Correa, a soda was bought, the lady said I could camp in the carpark.
Privacy was not one of its attributes, her offer was politely declined.
There was a brand new cycle track on the right side of the road, this was ridden with pleasure. By now, it was 1930 and the need for a camp was pressing.
Nothing was on offer in the rocky, sandy, scrubby flat terrain.
What there was, could be clearly seen from the much used road.
Getting off the bike track, some 5km on, a side road into the scrub was found. Leaving the highway without being seen, was not an option.
Often, when parking the bike to go for a look, my hands are placed around my groin to make it look like I am stopping to go to the toilet.
Here, I just rode up the track, by now it was almost dark.
The surrounds were still rocky, about 1 km up the trail a small sandy patch was located, out of site of distant cars.
Camp was set up in the dark.
These weevil type bugs were biting me the whole time, little buggers.
Thanks to my roadside hosts, only bread and coffee was for dinner.
Sleep enveloped me within 10 minutes of hitting the nest at 2130, on this mildest of calm nights. The distant lights of a town could be seen under the starry sky.
8/10/2013 Sth of Correa to Caucete, AR
D42, T2, Av18.83, Max39, Tot 20226, 11473
Close to 30°C and dry
It was a great campsite, miles from anyone and calm , tuna, pasta and tomato puree were had fore breakfast.
Last nights dinner to be precise.Early in the morning Mate was enjoying whilst doing a bit of typing.
I took my time here and left about 1000.
The ride to Caucete was pretty much all on the bike track. It was great, they had installed plaques all along the way to inform one of the flora and fauna present.
Parrot nesrts were in most trees, they make them out of a large ball of the thorniest branches they can find.
Maybe the Ozzy parrots can learn here.
Sadly, they only nest in tree hollows and many old trees are now gone in Australia. A Eucalypt tree generally does not form exposed cavities for 80 to 100 years.
Near the town, vineyards were on both sides of the road, with stalls selling preserved peaches and oth fruits. To heavy to carry, was my excuse to one lady selling them.
Once in Caucete, a generic battery charger was found. A stop was made for half an hour in a fruit shop talking to the guys.
They had a very good business, the fruit was so fresh, 6 of the best mandarins were devoured along with bananas.
Hotels were few and far between in town which really was just a big main street with speakers playing music all the way.
The Hospedaje, Melcho was chosen.
My washing was done, the water was dark brown from 6 days of dust and dirt.
Everything is always hand washed, it is best for the wool.
My sandals got a good scrub. The dry hot air had things off the line in a few hours.
Not to mention my body that got a good hot shower. I had shaved along the way. It is so difficult trying to clean up 5-6 days growth. It plays havoc with blades.
My blog is kept up to date on the road. The days journey is best documented that evening. Sometimes it is an effort and only notes are taken.
It is enjoyable writing this account of my thoughts and other things that come to mind.
Anyone riding this route can look at the days average speed to get an idea of the terrain.
Once on the bed for the evening, my tiredness hit me. The evening temperature was still about 24°.
 Fabian y Corinas barrio afuera Chilecito
 Las vistas típicas en La Sierra Sañogasta
 Loros aman arboles con espinas, ellos construyen los nidos con ramas de estos árboles
 hablamos para cuatro horas
 Un momento especial, un Condor en el parque, estuvo muy alto en el precipicio
 Los precpicios son muy suave porque arena en el viento
 La tercera noche detrás de la piedra
 Quinto noche muy basica, pero privada
 Veinte mil kilómetros
 Cuarta noche, muy tranquilo, cerca de San Augustín del Valle Fértil, en la finca con vacas. El hombre visitó mi en la manaña antes de salí.
 Ciclistas de Argentina.
La vista cerca de Cuacete
 muy plano y seca
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 Casas interesantes antes de las montañas cerca Nonogasta. La tierra es muy muy seca.
 Mi primera noche en la carpa, en un lugar de lastre.
 Mí noche segunda en un arroyito seca, todos los árboles tuvieron espinas
 Zorritos en el estacionamiento en el Parque Talampaya
 Parque Talampaya
 Una casa extraordinaria, con ruedas
 Argentina!!
 No carpa arriba a son las ocho en la noche, no problemas. Sexta noche cerca de Defunta Correa,
 Amiguitos, en la escuela, Astica. Sus nombres son, izquierda a la derecha.
Micaela, Juliana, Kevin, Victoria, Tiziana, Maxi y Facundo.
Juliana y Victoria son gamelas.
 Otra ciclista solo, a Chucuma. El tiene cuarenta anos, un jovenito!! ( dodgey Spanish here)
 Un remolino, cerca de Marayes, muy peligroso para ciclistas.
 Cerca de Caucete
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Hay Espaldas Rojas en Argentina!!
