September 19, 2016
Mon 19th Sep: 47km < Va Union to > 72km
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
The Spring equinox in a couple of days time, the 21st of September, means there'll be twelve hours from sunrise to sunset; meaning, there's no longer need to scurry round with a head-torch in the evenings. There's at least thirteen hours daylight if taken into count that it doesn't get dark rightaway once the sun has gone down; equally, it's daylight a while before the sun rises. So there's plenty of time to do everything: cycle, relax by reading a chapter of a book and write the daily journal instalment, all in daylight.
There is however the temptation to ride long hours. Well, sometimes, that can be necessary with there being long stretches between towns. But for now, I'm committing myself to a 7-8 hour cycling day. From yesterday when I'd the tent up for four, an hour or so earlier than usual. The early stop paid dividents this morning in that I woke up feeling fresh, full of enthusiasm to go.
I am on the road shorly after eight. There is something good about being on the road at this hour. Admittedly eight isn't all that early, except here it feels more like seven o'clock, as local time is the same as Buenos Aires time, which is a long way east. Here is almost as far west in Argentina as it is possible to be. So it feels earlier than it actually is given, the sun reaches the east coast while it's only dawn in the Andean west.
The road still descends. There's a frosty nip in the air. There are long shadows ahead of me as the sun has only just risen behind me, and there's low toned hues in the rocks. The intense sunlight brings out deep red in the rock piles. The sky still a vived deep blue. Still the road descends.
Sometime around half nine the road goes up a short rise. Cresting the hill I see greenery off beyond the thorny desert that lays before me. Villa Union. A scattering of small boxes and tall elm tree windbreaks.
I arrive at the crossroads at said village an hour later. Turning right for the access road, three kilometres to the plaza. On the corner is a supermercado where I stock-up, spending 122 pesos. Today's budget, as the next urban area is beyond reach today.
I brew coffee in the middle of the plaza, not the nice plaza there was in Pituil a few days ago. This plaza has few trees, so I sit exposed to the late morning sun. There's also a great deal of traffic noise, as Villa Union is a much bigger place.
Later I call by the YPF petrol station to fill my water-bottles, whereon entering the forecourt, I see another touring-cyclist sat on the curb outside the shop engrossed in his phone, so doesn't see me while filling water a few metres away. So engrossed by the phone held at chest level he wouldn't have seen me either, if I hadn't called out. I didn't get his name, but a young Argentine, that has cycled up from Ushuaia. Get that, he set off down there in June, in otherwords mid winter. He told me how cold southern Patagonia was at that time of year. His destination he tells me is Mexico.
I wish him Suerte, before setting off, back out the three kilometres access road to rejoin route 40, south.
This part of 40 on from Villa Union is new to me, having previously turned left at the crossroads on the road to the national parks. In any event 40 seems to be a lot shorter.
I spend much of the day looking at red rock formations to the side, with the road stretching straight ahead, reaching the provincial boundry, or big signboard welcome to the province of San Juan. Shortly after I halt at a dry stream, pushing the bike off away from the road and pitch the tent among scrubs.
Tomorrow, I'll be trying to get beyond Jackel, the next place on the map, 120 kilometres away. It may be possible without cycling too late.
| Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
| Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 0 |
| Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |