February 8, 2016
All Things Bleak And Dreary: Somewhere to Somewhere-else, near Cerra Sombrero.
I'm still not getting to grips with writing anything of an evening, putting it off until morning. In the evening I feel I should be laying down to sleep as early as possible. In the morning I need to get on the road as early as possible to make use of the calm before the wind rises, instead of waiting an hour to write. I just don't have much motivation at keeping this journal going and feel it is a bit of a shambles so far. In any case I'm delayed writing for an hour before getting on with breaking up camp and don't get on the road until twenty to nine.
The sun has been slow at showing above a bank of cloud to the east, what remains of yesterday evening's rain. To the west is completely clear blue sky, but I don't think this will last.
As I predict, within an hour the cloud builds and its soon business as usual with dark blue sheets of cloud closing in with icy cold south west wind, which for now is a tailwind.
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Today I've been anticipation a tough day getting across this unpaved section, 80km to Cerr0 Sombrero, where the paved road begins again. For now I'm going north, but halfway through, the road turns west, where that wind will turn to headwind.
It is the same old featureless steppe this morning too. Midmorning I descend to a small valley, kept green by an arroya, a seasonal stream (I think they've a rainy season during the winter months, though wouldn't precipitation here fall as snow then) with a scattering of houses and big sheds of an estancia. Then a climb up the other side. Later there's another drop into another valley, with a bigger scattering of houses, at km80. I think this is Cullan. There is no place-name sign.
The road turns into the wind here, my speed reduced to a struggling walking pace, until a sharp right where it's back to tailwind across and up a hill out of the valley to steppe again.
The only traffic this morning are a few tanker trucks. One stops: the driver out when I reach it offers me a lift to Cerro Sombrero, which although an easy escape, I feel I would regret it, having ridden so far, then breaking the chain by taking a lift. I don't know where the driver though I was going to put the bike, anyway. Perhaps, he though it is a cheap old thing I picked up for a few pesos because, I don't have money for a bus and would be delighted with a lift. Hard as it seems and it is that, its adventure, which brings reward later rather than at the time.
The tailwind continues. The road straight to the horizon. The turnoff for Cerro Sombrero on the left is just ahead, though, meaning headwind.
Huddled up in the rough grass at the junction is a hitchhiker, looking half dead rapped up in a warm wind-jacket with hood up shivering. I shout out "Hola!" on passing. He jumps from a half slumber and shouts "Hola!" back.
Then just a hundred metres into the new road is a refuse hut on a wide plot between road and fence. It being half twelve I decide to lunch. There may not be any other shelter for a long way. Today is tuna on crackers and I manage to shelter the stove enough to boil water for tea. I linger for an hour not wanting to return out and face the wind and debate whether or not to change out the bottom-bracket here where there's shelter. There's a lot of play in the old one in there, but as yet the chain isn't skipping over the sprockets, so will leave it be until I really need to, getting as much wear out of the old bottom-bracket (the bearing the cranks rotate on) as possible.
When I get it together to leave again, I push the bike out to the road, just as a gust of strong wind and hail shower come on. So I return to the shelter. The shower is brief and just as I'm leaving a second time, I see the hitchhiker jump up to life, slinging up pack and guitar case in a pickup truck. Gladdening to see he has got a lift at last.
The sign has "Cerro Sombrero 40km". There's also a sign "Solo En Verano" or Summer only. The road straight on which I turned off a long way round, while this is a short cut over mountainous steppe. The road on climbs for what must be 25km, well up and down; until six, when there's a lengthy descent into a valley with a small stream, where I fill up on water: a relief, having worried over about being too low in water to camp having thought I'd reach Sombrero and fill up there, but with headwind, all afternoon I knew I'd never get as far and would likely be camping thirsty.
A kilometre or so further the valley and road come to a tee with a long valley from left to right, my road right, signposted Sombrero 15km. And with tailwind now I cycle about 7km until the road swings left and wind become crosswind, but with a short rise out of the valley, the road has been banked up approaching the climb providing reasonable shelter down on the right side, where there's a small rivulet stream and lush grass along the fence. I pitch the tent although not hidden from the road, the only traffic is an occasional oil-worker pickup truck, which will stop soon when they've all gone home for the evening.
Today's ride: 72 km (45 miles)
Total: 5,093 km (3,163 miles)
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