Thu 8th Dec: Lus Devine (Pinkhouse) to aprox 20km north of Tres Lagos

December 8, 2016

Lago Viedma with a distant veiw of Fitzroy.

I have an early start, being out of the tent at half five. There's a cloudless blue sky already before the sun has risen above yesterday's band of cloud lingering over the hills to the east, while I wait for water to boil for tea. The river slips by. What a strong currant. I wouldn't want to have to cross it.

Eventually the sun breaks above the cloud in the east, warming me as I sit at my improvised picnic table watching small birds flitter in and out of the nearest plum tree. It's good campsites like this which help with relaxation and rest, and make an overnight stop such a pleasure. What more could I ask for, except that there be a gate in, as I'll have to lift off all the panniers at the fence up above, hand them over the fence, then lift the bike across before climbing over myself.

With the sky being cloudless I know it bodes badly, that the wind will rise late morning noon, so getting away at seven, I'll try and made as much of the calmness while it lasts.

Only ten kilometres on from where I'd camped in the Rio Leona valley, I pass the La Leona Parador where we stopped on Friday. Then cross the bridge and climb the rise up the other side to level out with a view to the left, across the aquamarine Lago Viedema to Fitzroy's pinnacle rocks rising on the far side of the lake. About here I pass a left turn for Provincial Route 21, which follows the south side of the lake into a place called Estancia Helforsinga. Without a doubt there must be a fantastic view of the lake and mountains in that direction.

The wind, well, rises earlier than I'd expected, as I'm passing the last of the lake on my left and a few kilometres further, the left turn Route 23, the main road into Chalten. Here I pass a young couple, hitchhikers waiting on the wide shoulder on the right for a lift north on 40, which at this point veers northeast, so the wind is partly on my back; although the wind isn't so strong yet.

I reach Tres Lagos 35km further, passing another left turn, Route 31 to Lago San Martin a kilometre or so before town. Another possible route to explore if you could guarantee calm conditions for long enough. Tres Lagos itself is partly a ghost town. There's no people about and this is my forth time here and it has always been the same. There are nevertheless many neat inhabited houses. There's also a lot of derelick houses with broken windows. Lots of old abandoned seventies cars, and car scrap filled plots. Hard to say how many inhabitants the place has but now and any of my previous visits here, I haven't seen more than five people.

There's one grocery shop, thankfully. The old fashion type with a shopkeeper behind a counter who you ask for things on the shelves behind that. The shopkeeper is the same old Welshman, well he looks Welsh, from another era with a flat cap typical of photos of men in the 1930s. When he eventually retires, I can't see that there'll be a successor to continue the shop

I buy bread, bananas and bottle of wine, coming to 108 pesos. Then across the street and down along the riverbank I push the bike into the shelter of the municipal campsite and take a seat at a picnic table. No I'm wrong, it had been the municipal campsite, free of charge when camping here in 2004. But in 2010 when I stayed here two nights, I found out it was no longer free; it'd been bought, and the new owner turned up the second evening, a brusk rude man that blew cigarette smoke in my face while demanding payment; as he saw it, I'd been camping there for a day without notifying him. I was hoping the same man wouldn't turn up today as I tucked into early lunch of buttered bread, banana and dulce we leche (a toffee spread) sandwich followed by strong coffee; while watching the wind sweep through and tilt over the tall elm trees. Wondering, has the wind gotten too strong to continue, and should I not consider calling it a day and camping here. It can't be that expensive if the man is about to pay.

There are long periods when the trees are still, though. So I set off again. And refill my water bottles at a house with an open door and a man at the front on the way out.

The new road route 40 going north is reached by leaving town going east on route 288 for a kilometre, to a big new junction with a left filter where 40 turns off left; and I go from having tailwind to having crossword. My pace being reduced to a crawl. A long kilometre on the road bridges the Rio Chalia, the same river which passes along the edge of town. There's fire pits in among the riverbank willows and it would make a good camping spot, but the wind hasn't got to the point where it's too strong to ride.

I press on up a long gradual incline slowed by headwind. On the top of which brings back happy memories of twelve years ago when I was coming the other way: a Sunday when I cycled from Lago Cardiel. I was delighted after a long day to have reached this point, where I could see my gold Tres Lagos down the slope ahead. I don't know how I rode over a hundred kilometres on rough ripio (gravel) road that day with strong crosswind.

Going north today, once over the crest, there follows a long straight with a straight up incline at the far side; that would prove one of those hills there's no end to as each subsequent crest reveals yet another long uphill stretch. It's three o'clock and still the road goes uphill. I'm soon looking behind big mounds of soil left by the road builders to see if there is shelter behind them to camp. But the ground there isn't level. Then I look along a cutting the old road I rode in 2004 passes through, but it's like a wind tunnel. Eventually, I reach a point where the road swings round to the right with a steep hillside on the left providing a fair degree of shelter from the north-westerly wind. I wheel the bike off the road down the bank on the right, where there are big boulders to further shelter the tent and lots of stones for ankering, all along the siding of the road. With the stones I quickly throw up a further windbreak drystone wall between the wind and the spot I've chosen for the tent. Then with the tent secured it's time for tea sweetened with fruitcake.

Here the road is the main windbreak. I quickly throw up this wall for extra wind-protection.

With an early night in store, the hope is to be out early tomorrow morning. Hoping it's calm. I had ambitions today of reaching a stream with grassy bank and an old house for shelter, which I remember from the last time. I'm not sure how far ahead it is. Perhaps twenty kilometres. I'll be replenishing my water supply there tomorrow. In any event I should reach Lago Cardiel tomorrow if the wind allows me.

Veiw in other direct at the lingering embers of the day.

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