Return of the Infectious disease: I am injoying it again.

May 20, 2011

Fri 20th, Sat 21th, Sun 22th and Mon 23th May.

Today I left the National Park Ischigualasto. The road does a great detour, so after cycling 40kms, I'm within ten kilometres from where I began. Twenty kilometres back I left San Juan and entered a new Provence; La Rioja. And my theory, though there could be a more logical reason, is an access road from the East which would be shorter from this point than the exsisting access road from the South which runs seventeen kay parallel to the road I'm now cycling North on and would've saved me thirty Kay, would turn-off in La Rioja but shortly cross into San Juan. Thereby, the prestige of having a famous Park within one's provincial boundaries would somehow be sullied by having the entrance start within another Provence.

I took this after covering forty kilometres; having cycled West, South, East and now North, namely, I cycled around in a circle.

It remained cold all day with a brisk breeze which luckily was mostly to the rear so I can keep a fair pace. I am cycling through another National Park but don't linger much preferring to press on. Without leaving the road, I can still see red-rock and not long after noon, I past an extensive area of fawn coloured soft rock hillocks smoothed and shaped by wind somewhat like so many sand-dunes.

The sun is soon gone and it's pouring rain off to the right but I don't think it'll reach me as the breeze is now coming partly from my left.

Half an hour later and still raining out there.

Set-up camp here shortly after four. It felt not as cold now because of settled wind and cloud cover.

Saturday 21th May: I make it to Villa Union as planned by lunch time. Lunch is a Lomito sandwich. The TV is on in the corner with a program called "Palabre Rural", a farming program which is a relieve from the usual Argentine celebrity nonsense. The camera alternates between a middle-aged man with strands of grey hair neatly combed over a baldpate being interview and a big herd of woolly Hereford cattle being herded past by men on horseback. Occasionally one halts-turning it's head and looks out of the screen, but is soon yelled on by the gauchos. During the all too frequent commercial break there are adds for agrochemical produces, John Deere and New Holand tractors and seed-drills.

Saturday 21th May: on the way to Villa Union.

I cycle around the plaza finding a supermercado to stock up. It is a small family run place, and an over curious shopkeeper keeps asking me what am I looking for. Well, I've got an idea what I may want, but it'll depend on price or whatever and so I prefer to be left to browse.

The afternoon is still and so pleasantly warm for a change. I meet a big herd of goats and wheel the bike off to the side to let them by. There wasn't any person at the back just a big dog which came checking me out a moment before going on. Ahead is towards a towering mountain range with snow on the highest ridges, but as yet the road is one long straight line across the dry thorny plain.

It was evening when I entered a red-rock canyon leading into those mountains. Here it wasn't as easy as back on the plain finding somewhere to camp as there are lots of houses and small farms on all level ground, though, it isn't long until I come to where the road used to go around a big lump of rock, whereas the more recently built road is cut straight through.

I have now set-up camp on the old road well hidden from view. A half hour ago, men on horseback cantered by on the new road while their dog came around the old road suddenly halting when it saw me a stranger. I remained still as it looked at me with alert eyes and pricked up ears hoping it wouldn't begin barking. With relieve it remained quiet then continuing to run along panting.

Today's Lomito (steak sandwich) has given not only a little variety to the diet of pasta but a boost to the nutrition and a feeling of well being.

Later I lay in the tent feeling quite safe. I like this state very much after a hard day not that the last two days could be called hard. The moon has now risen casting a shadow from the rocks and bike while illuminating the tent.

Sunday 22nd May: breakfast is eaten sitting in the warmth of the tent. This morning I add a banana to the usual mix of oats and cornflakes wetted with dried milk and sweetened with a good spoonful of Dulce de Leche, which is caramelised milk and sugar. I had just finished when I hear a car stopping; a door opens slamming shut, then there's the loud shuddering report of a firearm at close range although out of my sight and I can't be seen. Peeking around from my hiding place, I see a white pickup and a stocky indigenous man with a mop of jet-back hair walking away from the vehicle on the other side of the road. A little later, I hear the vehicle start-up again and it drives past stopping again two-hundred metres farther on. It made me a little hesitant in riding past as I shouldn't trust people that shoot willy-nilly; but when I ride past they, there were now two, were a bit away from the road in amongst the thorns and cactus.

I pass yet more houses and a hamlet of adobe mud with a school and a police post. Passing a small farm, the woman of the house is in the garden washing clothes in a tub over a wash-board while the man is working among rows of beans and potatoes. I reach the top of the valley from where the serious climbing begins; the road sweeping to the left rearing up and then switches back like an elbow to gently ascend across the mountainside. After what is an easy climb inasmuch as I remain in the middle ring and pedal fluidly,the way turns in through a deep cutting in the red rock where the chain is dropped onto the little-ring it being a little steeper to emerge out and meander with gentle gradient again on the mountaintop to a shrine and a sign inscripted "Cuesta de Miranda 2020 msnm".

It being a Sunday, there was quite a lot of traffic mainly scooters often overloaded with two and sometimes three riding on them. One scooter, the pillion was playing an acoustic guitar the strummed strings echoed and I wondered where or what it was coming from at first until it began to close in behind me on the steep descend. The road here was very narrow with an old stone wall on the outside guarding a shear drop. The view down is hard to put in words but I took enough pictures.

I stopped here to look at Condors gliding and wheeling to and fro in the valley below.

Reaching Chilecito tired and looking forward to booking into a hostel for two nights for tomorrow will be a rest day; meanwhile, riding towards the centre, a group of young teenage boys on cheap mountainbikes and BMXs crowd around me in motion on all sides. A welcoming committee. They ask me the obvious questions and I just give them one word answers wishing not to encourage them hoping they'd soon leave me alone. They pursue me from traffic-light to traffic-light. Eventually, I make an effort at getting away slipping away through lights and losing them, though supposedly by now, they were just tired of following me anyway.

At the hostel, the receptionist was rather unfriendly. She was young and sitting with a pile of books and a laptop before her studying. I got the feeling she didn't like being disturbed; a bit like me when I'm updating this journal.

Sunday evening there's a lot of noise emanating from the plaza. On going there for something to eat, I see it's a Catholic festival, Fiesta de Santa Maria. A crowd have gathered outside the Catholic church where "Santa Maria madre dios........" rings out from speakers.

Monday 23th May: I sit eating at a pavement table on one side of the plaza. Scooters zoom by, so many of them, as many as there are cars. But the queerest thing I see is a car. A really old Renault 6 modified with very dark tinted glass. I only saw the driver while stopped at the lights next me because the window was rolled down. He is a young curly-hair student type and he puffs on a cigarette while tapping on the steering-wheel with the other hand. The smell of weed reaches me just before the lights change and he drives happily away.

Today's ride: 249 km (155 miles)
Total: 14,754 km (9,162 miles)

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