February 26, 2011
South to Rio Gallegos.
I made scrabbled eggs for breakfast this morning: the pan that came with the stove is good quality non-stick, so I can scrub it clean afterwards without destroying the surface: a good produce, it and the stove; and it was inexpensive.
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I ride around to the pay campsite, where Nancy, John and the Boys are, having arrived yesterday afternoon. They are ahead of schedule so will remain here today, maintains Nancy. "Only 800km to Ushuaia. We're a kinda glad it's almost over" she states. We say are farewells as this is perhaps the last I'll see of the family which have been company since meeting that day on the road South of Tecka.
Today's road began with a steep climb up through the barrancas out of the valley of the Santa Cruz river: followed by a plain bordered on the right by round hills: the only vegetation is yellow tufts of grass. I past by a National Park, Cerro Leon, so-called because the hill looks somewhat like a lion, I suppose: anyway, I didn't care to waste the day on a side-trip and pay for the privilege; the park fee is steep for foreigners. There followed, after the turnoff for the Park, a longest climb where the road is carved out of the hillside and there are many gradients up to a bend which the rider hopes is the last only to find on turning it the hill continues. I sweated quite alot because I had warm clothes on as although the morning was sunny a cold breeze blew, not sure from where but it was mainly on my back; moreover increasing cumulus cloud blocked the sun momentarily out making it more cold. The road eventually levelled out upon a rolling Plateau with more small round hills with occasional dry crusted salt lagoons between and guanachos everywhere.
I stop for lunch Lent on the metal crash-barrier on a causeway across one of the above-mentioned salt lagoons; doing my best to shelter the stove and myself from the frisk breeze. The view is bleak and silence with the usual guanachos eyeing me. I can look forward to, according to the info centre in Piedra Buena, a roadhouse 100km South where it's possible to refill on water, buy soft drinks and snacks, and perhaps camp the night. I have covered 64km so there only remains 36km: that is my goal for the day even-though I don't know what to expect there.
The afternoon becomes gray and colder: the wind brisker; but as it was a tailwind I didn't mind so much and I covered the 36km to the said roadhouse in a short time. At quarter past four, I see the smart red building with green roof, standing alone on the expansive plain of yellow tuft grass.
The lone hotel type of building stands by a large gravel drive-in-parking area to the left of the road. The wind howls out and the door slams behind me when I enter. The hotel is called Lemarchard and on the wall, a black and white framed photo from 1951 shows a truck parked outside an older building which preceded the present building. The cafe with a counter to one side had ham and cheese sandwiches which I pass: there is also scones, yes I thought it strange: I order three of the young man that seemed startled when he first noticed me: remember I haven't showered in a week and look as though dragged through a hedge.
I take a seat to eat my scones with a beer which is a weird combination. The TV is on in the corner which is the only negative of the place as Argentine TV is endless frivolity; ever the TV-news isn't serious. I see, looking out the window, that the sun had broken through creating a brilliant yellow hue. There wasn't any place to camp sheltered from the wind outside so I planned on riding on to wherever, hoping to reduce tomorrows distance. I take a photo of the many stickers by many travelers on the glass door, and leave.
A few kilometres after Lemarchard, the road drops down a couple of switch-backs to a grassy valley with lots of scattered estancia buildings: anywhere here would've been ideal for camping supposing I found someone to ask permission as otherwise there's no bushes to hid behind; so, I press on as there still is many hours of daylight.
After 10km, the road leaves the valley in one long straight rise up to the rolling plateau again: it isn't far then until the road passes over an embankment with a channel underneath. Now as I write, I sit at the mouth of the said channel; it is a square concrete tunnel which I've pushed the bike into for the night; and I swept out the small stones with my shoe to clear a place for the mat and sleeping-bag. The wind has increased and I didn't want to risk the tent.
Today's ride: 124 km (77 miles)
Total: 11,055 km (6,865 miles)
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