January 8, 2016
Something: Cuesta De Miguez to near Tapi Aike.
A moderate wind continues blowing this morning. The sky almost cloudless and the air frosty so I'm garbed in full shell against windchill and wearing thick Winter gloves.
I carry on from the culvert where I'd camped, a few more kilometres climbing out upon a vast brownish plain where the road swings right, going south and the wind become crosswind. I'm forced to ride leaning to the right to counter gusts which force me out into the road; fortunately traffic is a very infrequent passing pickup truck. The road then swings left from where I have tailwind again until another right swing and back to crosswind. The view further is of the plain dropping away into a hollow off to the south-west with blue outline of hills on the far horizon, with brown barrancas not too far off to the west.
There are regular culverts, most deep enough with level ground in their shelter big enough to pitch a tent, leading me to wish I'd pushed on further yesterday.
About midmorning a white box come into view ahead which turns out to be a shed. I know from having ridden this road before it is the road services depot "El Cerito" where the road turns off right becoming route 7, while 40 continues straight on seventy kilometres to a place called Esperanza, whereupon it goes sharp right like an elbow, west: the turnoff route 7 meeting it again another seventy or so kilometres on; although, on Google Map, they've route 7 as route 40. But anyway the turnoff is a shortcut, albeit when I turn right, there's a sign "Fin de Pavemento" the tarmac ends abruptly and the road carries on as compacted stony dust, stretching off to the horizon. The new map says it is 65km to Tapi Aike, where it meets tarmac 40 again, but the sign here at the start has "Tapi Aike 70km.
Fortunately the wind has dropped to a gentle breeze and can hardly be called headwind. Though then come a twister along the road sucking up grit and dust, passing on the other side of the road with a howl. The turbulence almost blows me over as I quickly plant my feet on the ground to save myself. But then it's just breezy. I have a theory about the wind; if, it is windy during the night and through the following morning, it calms late morning and becomes a still and pleasant afternoon; whereas, a completely still night and morning is the calm before strong wind rising late morning onward.
And so the day has turned out calm and having warmed up, I'm going to soon stop to take off the gloves and rainjacket. The unpaved road in good condition, clear of loose stones in wheel tracks of infrequent vehicles. Then ahead I see a cyclist approach closely followed by another riding hard to keep up. In unison we both cross to meet in the middle and we shake hands. A young man who speaks English with German ascent, his female partner now having caught up. Coming from Ushuaia they began in northern Brazil and cycled the whole east coast of South America, and now plan riding up the west coast.
I remark on how good condition this road is in. That another German cycling couple I had met in Calafate, said this stretch is terrible, to which he smiles in irony and says "you are going to enjoy it further on. The street is like this for twenty-five kilometres more. Then the last fifteen kilometres before Tapi Aike is big stones and loose gravel.."
There is quite a bit to go until the rough road described by the Germans and meanwhile, the steppe ahead opens with a descent down barrancas to a river valley, beyond which is a small house. The river is seasonal: the riverbed being baked and cracked mud with two metre high banks either side, so a perfect level and sheltered campsite and a place where I stop for lunch. Then about a hundred metres on is a permanent spring water stream where I fill my water bottles.
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There is the climb up the other side, then further a second descend down a gulley between barrancas to a deeper valley, wherein the rough road starts upon the climb out the other side; to the left of which, is the day's second house set in the greener valley side, a farmhouse in the shelter of a hill.
The surface is ever changing, being corrugated for a bit; then there'll be an interlude of quite good road; then chaos of loose stones. And in many places the most rideable piece is the wheel track on the left, not a problem as there's little or no oncoming traffic. So I ride on at walking pace the remainder of the afternoon. And where previously I thought I'd make it to Tapi Aike by evening, it now would be very late when I'd get that far. However, about seven I come to a small lagoon a few hundred metres to the right in the lea of a hill, accessible by a barely used vehicle track, which I'm able to ride off along.
There isn't much shelter except for a low bank along a sandpit near the shore, where I pitch the tent, trusting the wind won't rise in the night. The lagoon has black neck swans and a pair of large birds wheel about high up over my tent as I unload the bike, squawking in protest at me invading their territory, but once I've settle in for the night, they leave me alone.
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Today's ride: 100 km (62 miles)
Total: 3,754 km (2,331 miles)
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