December 23, 2015
Desolate: near Lago Cardiel to near Tres Lagos.
Camped by the roadside it is a pretty ugly place to start and would prove to be an ugly day against headwind.
I am aware of a voice "Hi you in there!" and am fully awake with a start, thinking there is someone outside the tent. Then realise the voice is in my head, beckoning me to get up. But fully conscious, I remember yesterday afternoon and do I want to face it today again.
The loose stony road continues this morning. There is total calm with a bank of dark cloud looming overhead, which bodes badly for a windy day. Crossing the crest of a rise the immense turquoise sheet of Lago Cardiel opens up ahead of me with purple tinted black hills around it's shore. A stark desolate place devoid of human habitation.
The lake remains in view through the hills to the right for much of the morning as the road meanders its way up through chocolate brown lumps and straightens out upon a plain, where around ten o'clock the wind rises from the north-west, but shortly shifts round to south-west and I'm in a position of not moving very far forward. The wind holding me captive; sudden gusts pushing me across into the loose stones at the side of the road and skidding to a halt; stuck in the same open plain.
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There is a choice of two roads: the new road being built, which is banked up graded roadbuilding material excavated from holes to the side. It isn't at the point where it has been compressed and levelled ready for tarmacking yet, so is hard going; and, the old graded earthen road parallel, which has a better surface. I chose to stay on the latter, as do the few passing vehicles.
Eventually I reach the hilly margin of the plain which loomed for a long time ahead. Here the road swings right so the wind isn't so inhibiting, as the road rises through a valley. Then there's a lengthy descent and I pass one of two houses of the entire day, tucked into the shelter of the bank on the left down from the road, as the road levels out into another open stretch, wherein it swing right again into the wind.
I remember this stretch well from 2004. See the ghost of my younger self riding this road eleven years earlier. A sunny Sunday with strong wind just like today. In one instant the wind pushed me off the side of the road and before I could get my foot down to save myself, I come off and grazed my knee. The stark desolation of this day instilled in me an appreciation of Patagonia: the open steppe without much scenic stimulation, without constant gawking at mountains and other landscape attractions, the mind frees itself and every kilometre battled is a real triumph and lasting impression. I don't have photos from that day, but don't need any as the memory is vivid.
My biggest worry is not reaching some place with water before evening and being left to camp and have no water to cook. But, mid-afternoon I come to a little green arroyo with a clear stream running through it, where I lunch and fill my water bottles.
Finally, about six, I reach the start of the tarmac road again, but the road at this point swings hard right into the wind and ascends for two kilometres, where I've to get off and push as otherwise I'd be push off the road. Beyond the hill crest though it swings back left and I can ride again. By now I'm looking for a sheltered culvert to pitch the tent. I do better when the road goes into the shelter of a steep sided hill and find a level spot down a bank from the road on the left with lots of large stones to built a a low wall around the front of the tent for added shelter to cook.
Today's ride: 97 km (60 miles)
Total: 3,247 km (2,016 miles)
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