February 15, 2011
Three it is.
The morning came bright and calm. We had to be out of the campsite at 8.15am as the attendant was going away, which wasn't a problem as both the others and I are usually on the road at this time; though, for some reason or other I's running late and John had to shout up and tell me to get a move-on. We were not charged for the extra day's stay due to the wind; so the campsite worked-out cheap as well as nice.
The first 19km was downhill and fast, with the ocean visible ahead, to the junction of Route 3 with constant traffic in both directions; most of which was considerate: but there was one truck that blasted the foghorn, Argentine truck-driver of coarse, and I'd to ride-off onto the gravel shoulder to safety. I was a couple of hundred metres behind the others, so I heard the furious blast of the horn as it reached them but they stayed put: they weren't going to be bullied off the road. Shortly from behind, another truck could be heard chancing down gear and easing off the gas till a low tick-over. It remained at bicycle speed behind until there was no oncoming traffic and then proceeded to overtake on the opposite side of the road. The truck, not surprisingly, had a Chilean plate. And this is perhaps a show of the two very different national characters. I find Argentines act on whim and impulse; were-as Chileans are cool and act according to careful thought. The careful Chilean truck-driver, nevertheless, isn't going to be late with his assignment in Punta Arenas just because he waited behind some cycletourers.
I caught the others at the roundabout which is the junction of Route 3 where they'd stopped to rest and rode on over the hill to Rada Tilly; a smart satellite village of Comodoro Rividavia set in a scenic cove on the Atlantic coast. Here I descended from Route 3 in order to update this journal at a service-station. I had it already written on the edit-page, all I needed was a wifi connection and press save. I always always though make sure the connection is fast and effective which I did. I pressed save. In an instant; Internet Explorer cannot show this page, popped up and I'd lost the lot. Damn. There was nothing for it; I just had to write the whole thing out again. I was there from ten to after midday.
The road ahead, Route 3, is going to be challenging because of the possibility of strong wind and long barren stretches without human settlements. I have been looking at Nancy and John's maps and Know by heart the towns en-route and the kilometres in between. I bough my days food in the supermercado in Rada Tilly and sat outside eating lunch. The security guard asked me the usual curious questions about where I'd come from and where Is going, which country Is from. I then proceeded to ask him about Route 3: his information was good as it tallied with the maps I had studied. He also mention a few tiny places which wasn't on the map. The next week will no-doubt be interesting.
Three o clock in the afternoon I finally ground my way up the steep hill back to Route 3; and the first few kilometres were tough as I found myself pedalling hard just to go downhill against a head wind.
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The road curved around upturned bowl like brown hills, and the sky was a vile midnight blue. Though shortly; the road climbed up and over, down to the Atlantic shore, which it followed for the rest of the day. It would've been idyllic if it wasn't for the constant traffic which thankfully was considerate. The waves gently rolled in on rugged black rocks and in other places it followed cliff tops. The weather though was closing in: ahead it was raining and I soon felt the spits. I stopped and put on the rain-coat; but soon it eased off and a pink glow could be seen ahead between the gloomy wet road and the dirty gray sky. In Caleta Oliva, I found the campsite after I had to find the info centre to ask the way, as Caleta is a much bigger town than I expected. Nancy and the family were already camped and watching a movie in the tent.
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This morning I write after a frustrating task riding around town to find a place with wifi: two, no three big service-stations had no wifi which is unusual. There was a hotel that Is recommended to, but the cafeteria was in the heart of the building and so, I could not occasionally glance out to see that the bike was safe. I visited a nice looking cafe, but the servitor said the by now familiar "no wifi" and I walk out the door saying "what's wrong with this place" I wasted an hour in all before I found this nice cafe where I now sit.
Today's ride: 98 km (61 miles)
Total: 10,563 km (6,560 miles)
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