October 28, 2010
Across the Uruguay river.
From the large town of Westphalen there were two options shown on my map, the national road BR158 or a secondary road BS, Brasil secondario I think the initials are. I took the later expecting a quieter more scenic road. The road had been recently resurface the cheap way which is a thin layer of stones sprayed over with tar and the car wheels left to roll it in, consequently it's rough and uneven, a bugger on a heavily laden bike. Again there was a long steep climb away from the main road, BR, Brasil rodavario (road network), I think those initials are, to where I'd camped last-night. This morning it was only a few kilometre decent to the village of San Vicente and another six marked on the map to the Uruguay river which I saw at a distance this morning from where I'd camped as a long white mist all along the lowest valley in my vista. I did expect the road to continue and there would be a bridge as the red line on the map continued unbroken across the river. Things were not to be as expected though. I cycled along the main thoroughfare of the village wondering where the road continued. I ask a bemused bystander and he directed me on the way I's going and talked of a barco, a boat over the river. 'todo del dia' all day I inquire anxiously in Spanish. The phrase may or may not be the same in Portuguese but it got a affirmative anyway which was a relieve.
The road to the river was first rough cobblestones then a dusty farm-track between leafy hedges. It reminded me of the eastern foothills of the Andes in Bolivia with little fields, cows on ropes grazing the roadside and thickly jungle hillsides. Soon I creased a small rise and the river lay ahead down the slope giving me hope that I's cycling the right way.
The ferry was a raft with a tug pushing it. A bus drove off when it reached my side from the town of Mundia nestle at the foot of hills on the opposite riverbank. The bike and me, the driver and his helpers were the only ones crossing. I had to walk the bike up the very steep way from the quay to the town where I stop at a cafe which served me instant coffee, not so good.
It was already ten and too warm to stand still out of the shade. It was inevitable that the road out of town would be a warm tiresome climb. All the streets were steep slopes. I cycled along one which went down and looked as if it may lead to a valley out but it soon came towards a dead end. I ask the best I could a grey haired woman on the balcony of a turquoise blue house the way. She was too far away when I took out the map to make my meaning easier, so she precede inside and down-stair. I heard her say on the way to a voice inside 'a man on a bicycle' or something similar. Out by the bike she put on reading glasses and held the map up close. Directing me back down to a junction, she then asked where I's from. 'Aah Ireland, that is you no understand much' she spoke with what to me was a kind of German accent.
On the place road sign at the junction I see a place only 20km away which on the map is back on BR158 which in hindsight I think I would've been better on all along. It was an easy decision to take to cycle back to the main road. The alternative would have been to cycle back through town and face a hot afternoon on a secession of steep hills on the secondary road. As it was the 20km to BR158 was straight, steep uphill and down but at lease on the eventual maim road the gradients were gradual with great wedges cut out of the hilltop to reduce the hills even more. I could pedal reasonable fast and move quick enough to keep cool instead of sweat and grind.
The road would though gradually go up and up for a long time in the afternoon. Along the way I stopped at a service station to buy coke and stop another time at a bus-shelter to read in which I's disturbed by a man with a barrow collecting bottles by the roadside. I think he just wanted to talk but I couldn't make anything out of his mumbled speech and besides I preferred to read. The road eventually levelled out on top where there was a monument and plack marking the completion of the road BR158.
The shoulder on BR158 was an amble smooth two metres all the way but after my stop at the monument the road dropped steeply down to a junction and my road now was BR282. The shoulder on this road was a covering of lose stones making it a crunchy slow slog on the slops. The only redeeming feature of this road was it was lined with a high canover of trees providing good shade.
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PS I stand corrected. BR is a short identification of BRazil. The BR roads are federal roads and not what I wrote. The secondary roads RS (not BS) short for Rio Grande are state roads.
Today's ride: 108 km (67 miles)
Total: 4,878 km (3,029 miles)
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