11/9/2013 bottom of the range to Purmamarca
D44, T2.1, 3, Av20, Max69, 18877, 9715
Super cold in the morning, 30° plus in Purmamarca
I froze in the morning. My camp was shadowed by the range to the east. I even walked up the shingle scree to the west with my coffee just to warm up before it hit camp at about 0830.
Packing up, before leaving, a big wad of leaves were chewed, again it was like having had an injection at the dentist, though without the drama.
The climb was steady, switching back all the time.
It is amazing how a nights sleep makes things like this easier.
All my electrics were flat, so no music. Good thoughts and dreams propelled me at a slow, but steady pace upwards.
At the top, I put my SD card in another ladies camera and she took a photo of the altitude sign for me.
Before the descent, I put longs on, and my raincoat. Thinking about putting my helmet on I decided against it, my beany and a warm head was more important.
I only use it in cities where a simple fall onto a kerb could kill one.
At 60 to 80km/hr downhill, I wonder about their effectiveness. Few touring cyclist encountered have been to be wearing them.
It is so nice having the choice, in Australia, our revenue raising police force nab even kids and fine them for not wearing one.
The descent for me, would have to be one of the classic Andean downhill rides so far. The road resembled a serpent of gigantic proportions.
There were hairpin bends at regular intervals, as the road builders had no choice but to traverse the massive gorges and ridges on the way down.
The temperature kept getting warmer. The scenery was inspirational.
Thinking of how a dream of mine was now a reality. Here I was descending a huge range in Argentina. On a pushbike, of all things, what a buzz!! This was freedom for me at its grandest. Not a pedal turned for 30 odd km.
This freedom had been earned on this day, for all I needed to live had been hauled up to 4800m. This freedom was enhanced, as the only things between me and my environment, were the lenses of my sunglasses and wool over my ears.
My senses received their respective inputs almost unaltered. These senses with my mind free from life’s clutter produced an euphoric aura within me, one difficult to describe. A kind of feeling if my life ended right there everything was in its place.
A kind of feeling, that all the material possessions could never replicate. These feelings were under pinned by the fact that I had managed my life to be in this position, though more importantly had the health and driven desire to be pushing my limits of comfort and familiarity.
I feel I will never regret this side step from the treadmill, that most people have created with their responsibilities to their material possessions and a lifestyle unsustainable without generous infusions of cash.
Lifestyles where people are time poor. I feel many people my age are uncomfortable perusing long-term pursuits that are not income producing.
Though after all is said and done, there is something about cycling in the Andes. Something that pulls at your core. Something that unleashes parts of your mind unknown to exist in other environments. At least in my mind!
I experienced these things with such freshness and clarity on this classic descent today. It was very similar to things experienced on the ride from Chachpoyas to Cajamarca in Peru.
I can truly understand why most Inca communities were within the cradle of the Andes. They looked after those communities both spiritually and strategically.
I missed some great photo opps because of a flat battery.
Soon arriving in the pueblito of La Cienaga, a stop was had at a tiny tienda. I enjoyed sardines in the woman’s’ yard. It was 30° plus. Clothes were rapidly shed. Whilst here for half an hour I partly recharged my camera battery.
It was another 8km down the river valley to Purmamarca.
Soon in Purmamarca, the small village in the middle of a rangy desert. It was tourist central with buses everywhere, spewing tourists from their doors to make a bee line for the dozens of shops selling all sorts of things people don’t need. Everyone enjoys different kinds of holidays.
The central park was the same, ringed with stalls.
My next task was to find a hostel that did not reflect prices that would obviously be normal here.
Anyway, I found a restaurant with a sign displaying habitación, the guy was a good bloke, he had one room. 50 pesos a night, about $6, very private and a clothes line most of my gear needed washing.
Using the restaurant to type this we played each others music, all was good.
This was kind of a culmination of a ride that took in almost all terrain, mountains, snow, salars, deserts, lagunas, huge descents and climbs, scenery to wonder at and not to forget the Flamingos, Llamas and the graceful Vicuñas.
It was a ride west to east, not taking me in a southerly direction. Taking in a small part of both Chile and Argentina.
It was a ride, where my mettle was tested. On the climbs, especially that out of San Pedro. The cold, especially that second night. The long flat periods, especially the section around Salar Olaroz. The need to manage water and food consumption, though the trucks always had water.
However most importantly it was a small part in a bigger picture where totally new experiences were enjoyed almost hourly, this has become very addictive for me now.
The daily exercise is also very seductive.
Secondly, it is such a healthy way to see this fascinating wilderness that South America so far, seems to be inundated with.
D44, T2.1, 3, Av20, Max69, 18877, 9715
Super cold in the morning, 30° plus in Purmamarca
I froze in the morning. My camp was shadowed by the range to the east. I even walked up the shingle scree to the west with my coffee just to warm up before it hit camp at about 0830.
Packing up, before leaving, a big wad of leaves were chewed, again it was like having had an injection at the dentist, though without the drama.
The climb was steady, switching back all the time.
It is amazing how a nights sleep makes things like this easier.
All my electrics were flat, so no music. Good thoughts and dreams propelled me at a slow, but steady pace upwards.
At the top, I put my SD card in another ladies camera and she took a photo of the altitude sign for me.
Before the descent, I put longs on, and my raincoat. Thinking about putting my helmet on I decided against it, my beany and a warm head was more important.
I only use it in cities where a simple fall onto a kerb could kill one.
At 60 to 80km/hr downhill, I wonder about their effectiveness. Few touring cyclist encountered have been to be wearing them.
It is so nice having the choice, in Australia, our revenue raising police force nab even kids and fine them for not wearing one.
The descent for me, would have to be one of the classic Andean downhill rides so far. The road resembled a serpent of gigantic proportions.
There were hairpin bends at regular intervals, as the road builders had no choice but to traverse the massive gorges and ridges on the way down.
The temperature kept getting warmer. The scenery was inspirational.
Thinking of how a dream of mine was now a reality. Here I was descending a huge range in Argentina. On a pushbike, of all things, what a buzz!! This was freedom for me at its grandest. Not a pedal turned for 30 odd km.
This freedom had been earned on this day, for all I needed to live had been hauled up to 4800m. This freedom was enhanced, as the only things between me and my environment, were the lenses of my sunglasses and wool over my ears.
My senses received their respective inputs almost unaltered. These senses with my mind free from life’s clutter produced an euphoric aura within me, one difficult to describe. A kind of feeling if my life ended right there everything was in its place.
A kind of feeling, that all the material possessions could never replicate. These feelings were under pinned by the fact that I had managed my life to be in this position, though more importantly had the health and driven desire to be pushing my limits of comfort and familiarity.
I feel I will never regret this side step from the treadmill, that most people have created with their responsibilities to their material possessions and a lifestyle unsustainable without generous infusions of cash.
Lifestyles where people are time poor. I feel many people my age are uncomfortable perusing long-term pursuits that are not income producing.
Though after all is said and done, there is something about cycling in the Andes. Something that pulls at your core. Something that unleashes parts of your mind unknown to exist in other environments. At least in my mind!
I experienced these things with such freshness and clarity on this classic descent today. It was very similar to things experienced on the ride from Chachpoyas to Cajamarca in Peru.
I can truly understand why most Inca communities were within the cradle of the Andes. They looked after those communities both spiritually and strategically.
I missed some great photo opps because of a flat battery.
Soon arriving in the pueblito of La Cienaga, a stop was had at a tiny tienda. I enjoyed sardines in the woman’s’ yard. It was 30° plus. Clothes were rapidly shed. Whilst here for half an hour I partly recharged my camera battery.
It was another 8km down the river valley to Purmamarca.
Soon in Purmamarca, the small village in the middle of a rangy desert. It was tourist central with buses everywhere, spewing tourists from their doors to make a bee line for the dozens of shops selling all sorts of things people don’t need. Everyone enjoys different kinds of holidays.
The central park was the same, ringed with stalls.
My next task was to find a hostel that did not reflect prices that would obviously be normal here.
Anyway, I found a restaurant with a sign displaying habitación, the guy was a good bloke, he had one room. 50 pesos a night, about $6, very private and a clothes line most of my gear needed washing.
Using the restaurant to type this we played each others music, all was good.
This was kind of a culmination of a ride that took in almost all terrain, mountains, snow, salars, deserts, lagunas, huge descents and climbs, scenery to wonder at and not to forget the Flamingos, Llamas and the graceful Vicuñas.
It was a ride west to east, not taking me in a southerly direction. Taking in a small part of both Chile and Argentina.
It was a ride, where my mettle was tested. On the climbs, especially that out of San Pedro. The cold, especially that second night. The long flat periods, especially the section around Salar Olaroz. The need to manage water and food consumption, though the trucks always had water.
However most importantly it was a small part in a bigger picture where totally new experiences were enjoyed almost hourly, this has become very addictive for me now.
The daily exercise is also very seductive.
Secondly, it is such a healthy way to see this fascinating wilderness that South America so far, seems to be inundated with.
A la cumbre
The coin tossing ceremony, heads we rode over, tails to camp here.
it came up heads
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Looking back down to the campsite
First tienda for miles
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