Inflation: San Martin de Los Andes to Pine Plantation, 25km short of border.

April 1, 2016

The glorious weather is certain to continue today and so I'm moving on. But, I've either, gotten into a habit of not being in any hurry in the morning, or, my body just wants to wait until the sun is well up and it is warm. Not long ago I always tried being on the road by eight or thereabouts. But the sun hasn't yet risen here by that time.

I eat my fill of the hostel breakfast, before packing everything on the bike ready for the road and then, sit down and linger over another coffee until the ten o'clock check out time, when I settle the bill of 690 pesos (£35) for three nights bed and breakfast, use of kitchen and unlimited wifi use. There are few bargains such as this, except hostels I camped in the garden for half the price with all the above facilities.

My first call after leaving the hostel is the supermercado, where try as I will to be fugal, the bill at the check out come to a whopping 253 pesos (£13), or sixteen-seventeen euros. I never even spent that much on food in expensive European countries such as France. All I put in the basket is as follows: pasta, pasta sauce, two cans of tuna, bread and salami, two packets of biscuits, tomatoes and apples, two of each, tooth paste and fuel alcohol; basically the bare essentials for a couple of days ride in a remote area. Incidentally, there was a piece on the Chilean morning TV news about the high inflation in their neighbour land, with a reporter in La Boca, one of Buenos Aires' main tourist attractions, asking Chilean visitors about the high prices.

Leaving the supermercado, I had thought to go a café with wifi and spend a couple of hours getting the journal fully up to date, then finally head out of town in the afternoon, but that would cost another 40 pesos (£2) for a coffee. So think it more cost effective to wait until I reach the next hostel.

Older model pickup truck. Modern pickups are a lot bigger and always driven by people from cities in a fast and frantic manner.

I set off then upon route 40, north. The traffic constant on the steady climb out of town, almost making me change my route plans when I come to a roundabout with a left turn and road toward the Chilean border. But this particular border crossing necessitates a ferry. And having ridden that way previously, the ferry runs irregular; once a day if I recall, meaning getting there and loitering on a ferry loading ramp for hours to board. No thanks.

San Martin stretches out for many kilometres in barrios (neighbourhoods), like any city, although with a wooded alpine setting, appears almost rural. Most of the roadside houses on the way out are of weathered plank construction from the pioneer era. The barrios in of the road, municipal housing, like soviet style pragmatic rows of concrete boxes for warehousing people. Then pass the last barrio, the traffic thins out somewhat, perhaps having dissolved into said barrios.

Soon the woodland peters out, replaced by long rows of Alamos (straight lines of popular trees that act as windbreaks) enclosing farmland and further I enter a river valley, with pale willow like bushes enclosing the riverbank contrasting with bare arid hills to the side.

Rio Chimehuin, approaching Junin de Los Andes. A typical river valley in Argentine Patagonia, with barren barranca hills to the side, usually rising to a plateau plain, or steppe.

The winter is long and hard. I saw a photo of here during winter once, a man had over a metre of snow outside his house. And further south, a woman was asked by a visitor, how cold does it get here in winter. She answers "minus 18 most days."

I reach Junin de Los Andes about lunchtime, quite a sizable town and like San Martin, of low wood cabin and tree lined streets, giving it a pleasant look. I ride off along a street to the main plaza, wherein there's an interesting display board of old black and white photos handed down by descendants of the first pioneers. One photo dated 1905 of the first house. Another from 1916, the first general store, showing three men behind the counter staring in the camera, typically attired for the period.

This town too stretches out to the north when I ride on. Then terminates at a military base with old artillery pieces out front, followed by a bridge over the main river; after which, there's a tee, where route 40 goes right and the road I want, left, up an arid valley which branches off. The road eventually coming level with the valley's river where there is plentiful camping opportunities, but it is only five at this point; a bit early to stop when I started so late. Then, when it is time to look out for some place to camp, the road still by the river, there is a fence preventing access to the riverbank with signs stating "No entre. Private"

The possibilities of finding a nice place to camp are looking grime as the fence continues with no entry signs; further, the road turns away from the river, still with the same fence where the landowner doesn't want trespassers. Then, on reaching a large pine plantation, things are looking better, though the plantation is fenced, there's no longer those signs. I have to uncouple all the panniers and lift them and bike separately over a wire gate to gain access, then recouple panniers back on the bike. The service track inside is loose sand and hard to ride, so I push a good way in away from the road. The kind of place to pitch the tent I like best, well out of the way. Not that anyone is likely to come upon me here as it is a long away to the nearest habitation.

Same spot as previous shot, away from the sun.

I had one calamity today. My rear pannier on the right side where I keep food, has bad a rip at the seam near the top for a week or so, when, crossing an old jerky wooden plank bridge, the rip suddenly extends, tearing down the full length of the pannier: the whole side split open and a packet of biscuits and the alloy water bottle I use as a cup falls out and rolls on the plank deck of the bridge, luckily not passing through a slot and falling into the river below. The only solution to tie it up with a pannier carrier strap, to stop the rest of my food falling out so I could continue.

Today's ride: 89 km (55 miles)
Total: 7,565 km (4,698 miles)

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