Oh how I swore at it.

May 8, 2011

Today would be a day to remember for all the wrong reasons. Though it began idyllic enough me up and out for nature's call at seven just as darkness was giving way to the light of the coming day and with birdsong in the plantation where I'd camped. And cycling away, the road followed the gorge descending gently with the swift flowing river to the left meandering it's coarse amongst the scrub and clumps of Pampa-grass. On the inside was near vertical rock-face and on the opposite side of the river were towering mountains. Evidently, quite a few people lived in this valley at one time; their houses now lay roofless and derelict in groves of trees. The ruins have recently been painted white with the slogan "GIOJA SI 2011" boldly painted in red. I later read on the front page of a local newspaper that Jose Luis Gioja is running for Governor in San Juan and has 65% in the opinion polls. I also past a monstrous hole by the riverbank, what remains of an abandoned mine, and here too the old industrial buildings have been brightly painted white and red with the peoples favourite candidate.

As I cycled along carrying five litres of water, it played on my mind the long way to the next possible water, notwithstanding the nearly river, though having a town up-stream is most certainly polluted. Is hoping the road would continue as presently and I could easily cover 120km today using all my five litres of water by tomorrow morning when I could do the remaining around 50kms to San Juan before noon. I didn't have a map but it seemed logical that the road should follow the river out of the mountains out upon the plain.

THE GOOD: inviromental message, "the Earth is in your hands, take care of it."

THE BAD: soon I would see the bridge across the river and the start of a long climb.

With that hope it came as a disheartening sight after crossing a great ugly concrete bridge to see that the road ahead didn't as hoped continue along the opposite side of the river. No, no-it began to go up a stupid steep hill out of the gorge. A policeman stepped out of a cabin at a police-post just as the road began to ascend looked blearily on at me as I past, supposedly thinking it amusing knowing what was to come. Still hoping that it would only be a short climb and the road would find a low gap through, it was further disheartening to turn a bend and come to a sign "Los proximos 14kms curvas y pendentes fuertas.": yes, curves and steep slopes for 14kms, which is going to take a good part of the day to get up.

For an hour I ground away in the granny ring enduring the hoots of motorists of which their seemed to suddenly be quite a few and it became a bit boring lifting my hand to wave every minute dispirited as I was. Somewhere early on I stopped to remove my warm fleece it getting unbearably warm but on stopping for lunch had to quickly pull it back on again because of an icy cold breeze at the then altitude. I had tired my legs and insofar as I'd cover 14kms of steep climbing, there didn't seem to be any end in sight. In all it was another 10km of slow grinding with only 06-07 showing on the computer. Passing cars now irritated me more with their beep-beep as they drew level as I certainly was no longer in any mood to lift my head and raise my arm to wave every minute at every car. All those cars were on the way to a shrine at the summit as when I'd gotten that far, there were a dozen or more parked cars. Sauntering about the shrine laying flowers and bottles of water, were elderly couples showing respect in the same way people show respect for the dead in a graveyard.

It was now pay-back time; well, for the next few kilometres only, as the road swept down to a light brown pampa bordered on the far edge by a range of pointy hills, like the nutak peaks seen sticking up through ice-sheets. And so the road followed a very straight line dipping down to a low point and straightaway began to climb once again. I despaired. The beginning of yet another stupid long climb. Though it was not to be as after a half hour grind up the sloping plain and eventually reaching where the road curved it's way around and between the rocky out-crops and standing giant shards of rock beyond which I saw that the road most drop into a valley; what I had wished for ever since climbing away from the river earlier in the day.

The computer showed over 50km on the descend and it seems I'm getting confident descending with a trailer at more than the 40kmph which the warning on the rear stay warns against. It was frightfully cold though, as I could've done with stopping to pull-on my rain coat to block out the draft on the way down.

THE UGLY: ten kilometres farther, I found a place to camp and realised I'd left the stow behind at the lunch stop.

The road eventually levelled out and followed a gorge gently down until opening-out upon a wide desert plain like the one I expected all along without all the hideous climbing. It was a simple matter to find a free campsite here hidden amongst the scrub and cactus. With the tent up, I looked furiously through the Bob-trailer bag for the camp-stove only to find it not there and then realise I most have left it behind at lunch time; furthermore, the bag it was in contented the cooking pot and what was I to do now to cook-up the rice I thought while I felt crushed: but, the feeling soon gave way as at lease I'd plenty of biscuits to eat. I would survive.

The thought of finishing this tour in the city of San Juan, which is another 65kms from where I'm camped had ran through my mind on the climb today. Now having lost the stove is a blow. The final straw, you could say. I am finished.

The birth and childhood home of 19th century president Sarimento in the city of San Juan in a photo from the early 1950s.

Today's ride: 97 km (60 miles)
Total: 14,095 km (8,753 miles)

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