February 12, 2016
Oh For A Tree And Green Grass: Route 3, km2534 to km2431.
I pondered the thought if I just stayed put in the tent where I'm comfortable, how long could I survive. Because, no sooner do I unzip the sleeping bag than I've to quickly put on warm clothes. I'm getting sick of always having to wear so much underneath a wind-jacket, which is always on, otherwise the chilling wind is too much to endure. I'd like to be somewhere pleasantly warm; somewhere with green grass and trees. Looking out at seven just after I've risen, the sun is breaking over the rim of my dugout encampment, but raining to the north. The sun doesn't even get a chance today as a sheet of midnight blue cloud closes in around quarter to nine when I'm setting off. The sun enveloped like a hallo glowing through smoke.
The barrancas I saw before camping the evening before are closer than I thought, as I soon come to an another downhill into a marshy valley of rough pasture and many pools, home to pink flamingos and other water fowl, with a small meandering river through the middle called Rio Coyle. This would be the only pleasing sight today. Beyond the road climbs said barrancas back up to the plateau. Then a few kilometres on is another downhill levelling out across a broad dry white lagoon rimmed by brownish barrancas; a bleak spot followed by a lengthy climb back to the plateau.
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I looked forward all morning to reaching Lemarchard posta (roadhouse) for lunch, where I can buy a big bottle of coke and replenish my water supply, but when I get there at quarter past one, the place is closed up with a fence across the front barring entry. One of the many places that has gone out of business in recent years. So I just sit down and lunch on crackers with tuna and will make do with the two and a half litres water I have. There should be enough to camp if used sparingly. I only remain there the short twenty minutes it takes to eat, it being too cold to stick around.
I spend the afternoon with a mild headwind on undulating road, mainly uphill though, over featureless steppe plateau. At one point, all around, 360 degrees, it is table flat pale yellow sprinkled among the black scrubland to the horizon.
I decide to continue until half five and find a camp spot, which will mean I can reach Piedra Buena midday tomorrow. When that time come around, the road builders have left a continuous banked mound on the right side, which gives a little shielding from the road, but not much wind shelter. Though the gently northerly which blew all afternoon has now settled. It is now nine o'clock and a calm evening, so I live in hope it remains calm through the night. Looking at the map, it should take me a week more to reach Trelew, a good way north and warmer.
Today's ride: 103 km (64 miles)
Total: 5,432 km (3,373 miles)
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