Goal: Route 237, km1505 to Bariloche

November 30, 2015

I had achieved my goal yesterday; namely, to get as far as I did and so, leave a more practical distance to ride today and arrive in Bariloche by afternoon. However, the legs feel the tiredness of yesterday's effort, they are stiff on the many climbs this morning. But at lease the climbs are short.

Breakfast is shortly after sunrise, Dulce de Leche and Mate, which I find will fortify me until midday. The sky cloudless and the air sharp cold, being at a thousand metres altitude. And shortly after setting off, begins a descend with warning signs, mainly for the benefit of trucks, of sharp steep bends ahead. The road surface on the downhill deformed by tramline ruts left by slow descending trucks. Then approaching the first bend, I see the rear of a truck trailer crawling towards it and seeing no upcoming traffic, I swing out and pass. I pass many more trucks on the way down, but also have to brake and slow myself a lot, because of that corrugated truck-wheel rutted surface on the inside.

A long lake comes into view below, filling a north-south valley where the road eventually levels out alongside and then turns down to and crosses over upon a causeway; before which, a road comes in on the right, the old "Route 40"; the longest road in Argentina, running the full length of the country, parallel to the Andes from north to south.

The 40 has become a popular attraction, and since my first visit, the road services have renumbered the 40, moving it further west, where it now passes through the touristy Patagonia Lake District, whereas formally it bypasses the lakes upon the steppe to the east.

Approaching Confluence with the river to the side.

The morning passes arduously with many short steep climbs, but equally, the descends giving me a break until the next dreaded rise up a hillside ahead. But for the most part remaining near Rio Limay, the river widening to a string of lakes, making for quite picturesque itinerary with rugged mountains around.

I struggle the final twenty kilometres to Confluence, which I though would be a village, but is just a petrol station at the confluence of Rio Trafal and Limay. There's a café though, where I have a ham and cheese sandwich, a bottle of cold coke and later a coffee. The air-conditioning makes the interior nice and cool, so I sit for quite a while flicking through the local newspaper left on the table. Then when I get up and pay, the bill is a modest seventy pesos, less than five pounds, a bargain in comparison with the overpriced sandwich at Petrobras I had the previous day. And, the friendly woman behind the counter gives me a alfajor, a dulce de leche shortbread biscuit sandwich as a gift.

I am struck by how hot the day has turned out when I step out of the café, something not so much noticed when moving. I wheel the bike over to the shade of some trees to the side of the forecourt and rest more before setting off again.

The wind blows up from the northwest on the road ahead, turning the afternoon hazy and therefore cooler. Though it thankfully remains a manageable crosswind, not overtly strong. And the road remains by the river, now a winding willow enclosed channel through a wider valley without any rises to climb.

Long before reaching Bariloche, I'm feeling done and cycling with heavy cadence, though I'm not for giving in. I struggle on and reach Lago Nahuel Haupi, an inland sea size lake, which today is a grey sheet with gentle waves, the wind not having strengthened.

I pull into a lakeside layby-observation point, and take shelter behind a wall to boil water to drink mate before the final dozen kilometres round the lake to the city.

The wind continues to press on my right the remainder of the ride, with increased traffic on the run into the city. My legs have long passed there limit and now are running on shear determination to reach my goal, as the road turns to bumpy urban street, aggravating my backside sore from having sat in the saddle so long over the last three days.

Though I'm fortunate to have visited this city a few times previously and therefore, don't have the hassle of finding things.

On the main shopping drag I stop outside a café I remember from previously, then called "Alligater", serving vegetarian food, which had an interesting poster on the wall, listing various disposable items we throw in the rubbish bin, with how many years it takes for it to naturally decompose. Off the top of my head, I think I recall, organic kitchen wash takes a year, paper considerable longer, and plastic drinks bottles, a thousand years or more.

Well, it is no longer the same café painted green, the new owners have painted it bright red. And before I've time to lean the bike, the waiter is out inviting me in. Then I see the prices listed in a window menu, 180 pesos (£12) for a steak sandwich; more than double the norm.

I push the bike up a steep hill a couple of blocks, to a hostel "Gente del Sur" where I previously stayed, run by a Swiss family, and check in for three nights.

Wildflower. Stopping to smell the roses, yet again. No one can accuse me of just cycling through and not looking at things.

A bend in Rio Limay, locally called "El Amphitheatre".

The final push to Lago Nahuel Huapi, the cut of which can be seen ahead with mountains beyond.

Nineteenth century Argentine explorer, the first non native American to reach the lake in 1876 during a four year journey in Patagonia.

Today's ride: 139 km (86 miles)
Total: 1,874 km (1,164 miles)

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