7/9/2013 the corner to Paso Jama, Argentina
D76, T8, Av17.63, Max90.28, Tot18615, 9454
Freezing on the tops , hot around the salars
It was a long night, 0700 to 0700 in my sleeping bag. My feet were cold as I got into bed last night. I tried to warm my socks then put them back on. It worked to some extent.
I really do have a circulation problem, that in cold weather sees me super aware of maintaining warmth in my hands and feet.
Deciding I had to make a move at 0700, the sun was already on the tent.
All packing and other things were done whilst in my sleeping bag.
Packing it and the airbed were done last. Once the tent was sorted, I ventured outside.
It was a beautiful still clear day. All my water was frozen, though I had taken measures to mitigate this problem and had filled my little pot the night before.
I kept moving about as I cooked, sitting tends to stop the blood flow to my feet.
Moving the bike, I found my clic stand had sunk into the ground and the small end came free as I removed it. It was frozen in there. Boiling water was the only way it would come free. My tent pegs were also frozen into the damp sand. Luckily, a knock with my mallet loosened them. I did not have spare water for this. Melting snow is a slow process.
Heading off, I felt good, and clocked up about 10 km nonstop to what actually appeared to be the top.
I was riding in longjohns and longs. There was still plenty of snow about.
Parking against a roadside pile of snow before the descent, a good wad of coca was chewed with the desired effect.
I put my coat on and headed off. Soon before me was a vista to behold, it was huge, had lots of colour and was all well below me.
This was payback for all that hard work.
The tight turns near the top were negotiated with caution, firstly because I was absorbing all before me in awe and secondly I was not sure of the surface consistency.
Soon ahead of me was a huge straight down hill run. Fingers let the brakes go, the 70kg of gear kicked in. I was off at a great rate of knots. The surface was smooth and wind resistance in the thin air minimal. I crouched down and let her go.
A quick glance at the odometer saw the speed, reading in the 80,s. It was a great sensation, concentration was paramount, a quick peek at the scenery was enjoyed however.
This run went on for a few km.
Slowing to 60, I looked at the max speed.
Ninety km on a pushbike, my PB since touring on my Surly. With all that weight, she handled like a motor bike, the front wheel never once wavering. Incidentally, not a pedal was turned during the descent, gravity was the only instigator and some adrenalin!
It reminded me of the movie “The World’s Fastest Indian” starring Anthony Hopkins about Kiwi motorbike enthusiast with passion and desire to see his Indian motorbike break a record on the Bonneville salt flats.
A great story about doing something against all odds.
Below me was a dark coloured lake surrounded by mountains, the valley or corridor led east, the wind was from the west, on my back, it was riding bliss in a wondrous landscape, a landscape where at once you felt so small and yet you felt part of it.
Cycling allows you to experience the latter.
Stopping at the lake and wandering down, firstly, it was very saline and secondly, it was rather warm. There was steam coming from some shore areas. Very interesting. The temperature was so much warmer around me, it felt so good to be comfortable again.
Other salars, come lakes were passed. One had a few flamingos and Vicuñas in close vicinity, it made for a classic photo capturing the two most common wild animals that seen here.
Lunch was enjoyed at a rest area out of the wind.
Prior to this, I had spotted a small body of water to my right at about the 115 to 120km markers. Wandering off to investigate, it was found to be fresh. Here I filtered water into my MSR bladder.
This allowed me to have soup and coffee for a slow lunch overlooking a lake with a few flamingos feeding in the shallows.
All the low spots in the landscape contained lakes with white salty shallows and shores.
A young guy and girl stopped me, they were low on gas and wanted to know how far it was to Paso Jama and was there a gas station there. It was about thirty km and yes there was a gas station there.
I like to be aware of these things.
Riding now was undulating but always slightly downhill. It was great to be on a push bike.
I knew I could now make Jama. Another rest area came into view, the car of the young couple was there. I stopped to see if they had run out of fuel. They were having something to eat. Paso Jama could be seen not to far below.
We spent half an hour chatting about Chile and Argentina among other things. He was from Spain working for a power company near San Pedro De Atacama. She, from Chile.
They had bought gas and were heading home.
Arriving in Paso Jama, the Argentine immigration was visited, they gave me ninety days with no hassles.
I tried to get some US dollars changed at a mobile tienda, 6.5 was the rate, way too low.
Riding to a weigh station the guy let me weigh the bike, it recorded 120kg. It was not accurate.
At the new horrendously expensive gas station, I met a Swiss cyclist my age. Renee was riding assisted by a driver.
There was wifi, all be it super slow at the servo.
Renee was staying at the lodgings here, way beyond my needs.
Wandering across the road I found a great place for 50 pesos, about $US6, the night.
Renees driver changed $US100 for 7.7 pesos, better, but not great, however I needed cash.
In the larger cities, anything up to 9 pesos can be obtained on the streets.
Renée and I enjoyed a good steak, after all this is Argentina, the land of beef.
It was great to have a decent steak after nine months.
Renee lived in Berne and knew Worb well, a place where we had spent time with my brother in laws family. We spoke about Velo Plus, a brilliant touring bike shop in Ostermundegen.
Back at my hospedaje, the hot water was not working.
Oh well, my third night without a shower, so be it.
It was great to be indoors as it was quite windy out. Weather patterns are now different on this side of the range, hopefully the winds are in my favour again.
D76, T8, Av17.63, Max90.28, Tot18615, 9454
Freezing on the tops , hot around the salars
It was a long night, 0700 to 0700 in my sleeping bag. My feet were cold as I got into bed last night. I tried to warm my socks then put them back on. It worked to some extent.
I really do have a circulation problem, that in cold weather sees me super aware of maintaining warmth in my hands and feet.
Deciding I had to make a move at 0700, the sun was already on the tent.
All packing and other things were done whilst in my sleeping bag.
Packing it and the airbed were done last. Once the tent was sorted, I ventured outside.
It was a beautiful still clear day. All my water was frozen, though I had taken measures to mitigate this problem and had filled my little pot the night before.
I kept moving about as I cooked, sitting tends to stop the blood flow to my feet.
Moving the bike, I found my clic stand had sunk into the ground and the small end came free as I removed it. It was frozen in there. Boiling water was the only way it would come free. My tent pegs were also frozen into the damp sand. Luckily, a knock with my mallet loosened them. I did not have spare water for this. Melting snow is a slow process.
Heading off, I felt good, and clocked up about 10 km nonstop to what actually appeared to be the top.
I was riding in longjohns and longs. There was still plenty of snow about.
Parking against a roadside pile of snow before the descent, a good wad of coca was chewed with the desired effect.
I put my coat on and headed off. Soon before me was a vista to behold, it was huge, had lots of colour and was all well below me.
This was payback for all that hard work.
The tight turns near the top were negotiated with caution, firstly because I was absorbing all before me in awe and secondly I was not sure of the surface consistency.
Soon ahead of me was a huge straight down hill run. Fingers let the brakes go, the 70kg of gear kicked in. I was off at a great rate of knots. The surface was smooth and wind resistance in the thin air minimal. I crouched down and let her go.
A quick glance at the odometer saw the speed, reading in the 80,s. It was a great sensation, concentration was paramount, a quick peek at the scenery was enjoyed however.
This run went on for a few km.
Slowing to 60, I looked at the max speed.
Ninety km on a pushbike, my PB since touring on my Surly. With all that weight, she handled like a motor bike, the front wheel never once wavering. Incidentally, not a pedal was turned during the descent, gravity was the only instigator and some adrenalin!
It reminded me of the movie “The World’s Fastest Indian” starring Anthony Hopkins about Kiwi motorbike enthusiast with passion and desire to see his Indian motorbike break a record on the Bonneville salt flats.
A great story about doing something against all odds.
Below me was a dark coloured lake surrounded by mountains, the valley or corridor led east, the wind was from the west, on my back, it was riding bliss in a wondrous landscape, a landscape where at once you felt so small and yet you felt part of it.
Cycling allows you to experience the latter.
Stopping at the lake and wandering down, firstly, it was very saline and secondly, it was rather warm. There was steam coming from some shore areas. Very interesting. The temperature was so much warmer around me, it felt so good to be comfortable again.
Other salars, come lakes were passed. One had a few flamingos and Vicuñas in close vicinity, it made for a classic photo capturing the two most common wild animals that seen here.
Lunch was enjoyed at a rest area out of the wind.
Prior to this, I had spotted a small body of water to my right at about the 115 to 120km markers. Wandering off to investigate, it was found to be fresh. Here I filtered water into my MSR bladder.
This allowed me to have soup and coffee for a slow lunch overlooking a lake with a few flamingos feeding in the shallows.
All the low spots in the landscape contained lakes with white salty shallows and shores.
A young guy and girl stopped me, they were low on gas and wanted to know how far it was to Paso Jama and was there a gas station there. It was about thirty km and yes there was a gas station there.
I like to be aware of these things.
Riding now was undulating but always slightly downhill. It was great to be on a push bike.
I knew I could now make Jama. Another rest area came into view, the car of the young couple was there. I stopped to see if they had run out of fuel. They were having something to eat. Paso Jama could be seen not to far below.
We spent half an hour chatting about Chile and Argentina among other things. He was from Spain working for a power company near San Pedro De Atacama. She, from Chile.
They had bought gas and were heading home.
Arriving in Paso Jama, the Argentine immigration was visited, they gave me ninety days with no hassles.
I tried to get some US dollars changed at a mobile tienda, 6.5 was the rate, way too low.
Riding to a weigh station the guy let me weigh the bike, it recorded 120kg. It was not accurate.
At the new horrendously expensive gas station, I met a Swiss cyclist my age. Renee was riding assisted by a driver.
There was wifi, all be it super slow at the servo.
Renee was staying at the lodgings here, way beyond my needs.
Wandering across the road I found a great place for 50 pesos, about $US6, the night.
Renees driver changed $US100 for 7.7 pesos, better, but not great, however I needed cash.
In the larger cities, anything up to 9 pesos can be obtained on the streets.
Renée and I enjoyed a good steak, after all this is Argentina, the land of beef.
It was great to have a decent steak after nine months.
Renee lived in Berne and knew Worb well, a place where we had spent time with my brother in laws family. We spoke about Velo Plus, a brilliant touring bike shop in Ostermundegen.
Back at my hospedaje, the hot water was not working.
Oh well, my third night without a shower, so be it.
It was great to be indoors as it was quite windy out. Weather patterns are now different on this side of the range, hopefully the winds are in my favour again.
Fresh water was found in this small body of water
Vicuña, s at home in the salty environment.
The frontier town of Paso Jama,a gas station, immigration, hospedaje and a tienda.A generator provided electricity.The local water though potable.,when boiled smelt strongly of salts.
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The Chilenos had built great rest areas at vantage points, unfortununately riff raff had destroyed most of the seating..With development the are close behind.
At the border just before dropping into Paso Jama, It was one of the most welcome sights ever.
La cumbre
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Both so adept in this environment