Wed 5th Oct: Ranquil Norte to 42km < (approx) Chos Malal

October 2, 2016

As a matter of fact, I had considered the village municipal campsite.

I tell the officer that got out of a police pickup truck the same in Spanish. The same police vehicle that had earlier been stopped up at the side of the road while I drank coffee in the tent opening.

The policeman had seen my tent from the road. I hadn't worried about being hidden, there being next to no traffic on the road.

A short stocky man of asiatic native-american origin with jet-black hair, he stood respectfully in blue police uniform by the parked Mendoza police pickup on the shoulder. Pleasant when he suggests the municipal campsite: in no way pressing the law. More surprised I suppose to see me camped where I was, wondering why I hadn't camped in the village.

Honestly it was easier to continue and pull off the road where I did without having people make a fuss over me. We talk for five minutes, mainly he asking usual questions and giving me information about the route ahead.

Bridge over Rio Barrancas, marking the provincial limit of Mendoza. Across the bridge is the province of Neuquen: the beginning of Patagonia.

The way on climbs for a kilometre followed by a long downhill with "Volcan Tronen", a massive conical volcano streaked with snow ahead, though still a good fifty kilometres off as the crow flies. It would remain the dominant feature for the entire day.

Eventually its steep down barranca-slopes to a long bridge, with a much more antic bridge to the side. Old concrete single vehicle wide. I'd guest built in the 1930s. The replacement 80s built I ride across over Rio Barrancas, from the province of Mendoza, to the province of Neuquen. Officially the beginning of Patagonia.

The river provides irrigation for a settlement.

The place called Barrancas across the river is just that, a narrow valley about a kilometre across. A green oasis with meandering river, pasture with elm tree windbreaks enclosing an estancia (farmhouse). There's towering steep brown slopes on the southside, as well as looking back at the Mendoza northside. The Barrancas.

The river passes down there, the other side of which is Mendoza.

The way on I'm afraid is a stiff climb, up between barrancas to the namesake village.

At this point I retrieve my lost memory about that evening ten years previously. Oliver having left me on the long descent on the Mendoza side while I puncture shortly after. It was nice of him though to wait out in the street in the village of Barrancas for me to catch up, so we both stayed in the same hospedaje (guesthouse) that night. The following day we just rode the 35 kilometres to the next village, Buta Ranquil, then had the afternoon off.

That 35 K on is a climb to begin with, followed by a descent back to the valley, looking to the left at the high barrancas on the Mendoza side. Though eventtual the road swings directly south, up through the barrancas on the southside.

The road swings south, climbing toward Volcan Tronen.

A gradual uphill most of the way while I can't wait to reach Buta Ranquil to lunch, there being no shelter from the sun out here. The giant Volcan Trunen is just ahead, rising beyond the village that is further away than it seems.

I reach the village about two, lunch in a pine forest playground. Then fill up on water at a builder suppliers before setting off again at four. The aim to take enough out of the ninety kilometres to Chos Malal before sunset, to have an easy day-morning ride tomorrow with afternoon off. What follows is a late afternoon to nightfall ride with magical evening light and ambiances.

I stopped for late lunch in the village of Buta Ranquil, then set off at four for a late finish. What a view.

Its kind of brillant riding this late in a place where its dry, consistantly blue sky and sunny.

And here the landscape lends to the vivid colours of evening light. The weird volcanic lavafields with numerous rock formations. Black lave, tan ridges and tabular barranca hills.

There is quite a bit of climbing until I come to a long downhill where I hardly need pedal. Down to a broad plain, with forest of elms, windbreaks with houses everywhere just as I'm on the lookout for a place to camp.

There's a further climb as it gets later, followed by high plateau before a descent to a valley with a lake to the left. More houses surrounded with elm tree windbreaks. But further on I come to a dry stream intersecting the road. Here I push the bike a good few hundred metres from the road toward the lake. Coming to a good spot between head-high thorn bushes, where I pitch the tent.

A few hundred metres on from the last shot, I turn off and push the bike a good way from the road along a dry stream to this perfect campsite.

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