April 8, 2016
Awake'n Go Again: Villarica to Route 5-km678.
I was awake at eight. A late hour, though, looking out the window, the sun still hasn't risen above the hills which are outlined with it's glow. The sky cloudless and it feels extremely cold. The hostel kitchen on the shaded side of the house felt like walking into a fridge.
I'm downstairs for breakfast for half past eight. The other guests a French couple and a German girl, who come later and moves her laid out place to sit by my side. I've been ignoring girls for months; it seems the best way to get their attention. We talk while eating about nothing more than each others travels: the usual conversation in which she is much impressed with how far I've cycled and having endured the winds of Patagonia.
I settle my bill for the nights I stayed, then having stopped by the supermercado, I'm heading out of town about half ten, where the sign has 35 kilometres to route 5, otherwise known as the Pan Americana, which will be my main route north for the next six or seven days.
The road to 5 has road works; resurfacing, wherewith a single lane open and a stopsign holding up traffic periodically, in turns for traffic from the other direction to pass until, the sign is go for the line of vehicles going my way. I mention all this because, the road works is many kilometres long and so all the vehicles have long passed me and in due course I'm met by the next vehicles coming the opposite way; problematic: the road being narrow on the inside verge side and the coned off newly resurfacing sticky.
There is a brisk southerly wind, perhaps the reason it feels cold, especially as much of the road on from the road words has a closely spaced row of overhanging trees either side creating a tunnel blocking out whatever warming effect the sun may have. Though, this changes to tailwind on reaching and veering right down a slip-road onto 5, which resembles a motorway with the exception that there are bus stops and it isn't always closed off at the sides, but does have a smooth vehicle wide shoulder on the inside of a two lane northbound carriageway.
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Once I've lunched sat against the bike leant on a crash barrier, I bowl away the afternoon hitting speeds up to 35 kilometres per hour. The only resistance are the many inclines. Then by evening, within an hour of darkness, having bypassed a large town and houses everywhere on the way on north, there isn't anywhere obvious to camp. Though, as always with creativity, I halt where there is a bank sloping down from the road shoulder with shielding trees at the top and a level stripe at the bottom wide enough for the tent along a fence with saplings hiding it on that side.
I pitch the tent. Its a tight fit between the slope and the fence. Then when I've eaten supper of pasta and begin relaxing for the night, a dog come along barking at my tent, then a second, both on the inside of the fence which is a small pasture field with high hedge perimeter.
I do what any sensible person would do. I remain still and let them bark, supposing they'll soon leave. And I'm right, as they soon get fed up and leave.
Today's ride: 105 km (65 miles)
Total: 7,800 km (4,844 miles)
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