Welcome to the North of Patagonia

This has been the toughest ride of our entire journey. From the ice and snow to the broad expanses of nothingness. We have been riding like donkeys, with a carrot hanging in front of us, except our carrot is a bottle of Latitud 33 Chardonnay. So come on along, visit a Welsh Settlement, ride La Trochita, the little train that could. Meet Shahram, Clement and Cedric, fellow cyclists. Get into the middle of an unbelievable Colorado Connection and an encounter with Cosmic Rays. Survive the Guff Guff, even if it takes a ride on a Garlic Truck to get us to Latitude 33 and into Mendoza. Then, a Happy Thanksgiving and The Saga of the Santiago Six.

Thanks for reading along and keeping in touch with us. It makes the tough days a little easier on the SEAT and the MIND!

Esquel to Mendoza, Argentina

October 9, 2004
Looking for a New Home

Hotel Tehuelche is exactly the kind of place that we like least. It’s a constant turnover of Tour Buses. Not that they don’t have a place, it’s just not our place. We feel slightly uncomfortable amidst the crowd as they’re herded in surrounded by bags then off in a herd to dinner. So, this morning we’re just a couple of strangers in the herd. Breakfast is a push and shove affair. Everyone is worried that they’ll miss the food trough. The milk for coffee ran out, the line of nervous travelers grew. Impatient, fearful, full of tension like Wildebeests at water, wanting, needing milk. Okay, maybe a little unfair but it seems that these nice people, most elders, deserve better treatment. Awe but, as herds we get used to the way things are, don’t we?

The good news, they are still fully booked for tonight, we must move. The nice lady at the desk gave us a map and the location of the Tourist Office. The nice women there had a list of all Hotels, even offered to call for us. I remembered passing a place, a bit away from the Centro but then Taxi’s are so reasonable it doesn’t matter. They too are fully booked tonight except for their Suite. It’s more than budget but worth taking a look.

Hotel Cumbres Blancas is our kind of place. Small, cozy and personal with just 16 rooms. The suite is huge but only semi functional. A dining room with table but no stove? A living room with couch, chairs and a big screen TV with CNN. Oh, and best of all, Internet connection is included and the service is pretty fast. We’ve found our new home. We’ll be in the suite tonight then change to a normal room tomorrow and get back into budget.

A Taxi ride back to Tehuelche. The bikes were still in repose in the strange, all white, meeting room. We got the bags down, loaded up and rode out into spitting rain. We off loaded just the necessary bags and stored the bikes with remaining bags in the gardener’s cottage.

The kitchen heated the chicken we bought in Tecka and we picnicked. What a difference, this is our kind of place. Our e-mail was overflowing, we had 178 messages waiting. Sharing the duty, it took most of the day to work through them but we love hearing from you.

Cat walked into town to check on bus service to Trevlin, the Welch Settlement. She also set off to get info on La Trochita, the little train. Cat’s Mom, Glenys was born in Wales so that’s a “must see”. I have a dream that we will be able to load the bikes onto Trochita and ride the 20 Ks out of town. Neither office was open, she walked all over town and got nowhere.

A glass of wine then dinner down. Another advantage, the restaurant is so good that locals drop in for dinner, too. I had a wonderful beef stew, Cat Dined on a meat dish stuffed with spinach and sweet potato, delisioso!

The latest news in English then off to bed.

Sunday, October 10, 2004
A Trip to Trevlin, El Asentamieto de Galesis

Another advantage, as compared to the coffee and bread treatment of yesterday, we enjoyed a nice spread of cereal, fruits, yogurt with coffee fuerte y media lunas. Most of the other guests are here to ski. They look great in their ski outfits but we’re glad not to be going to the cold mountain.

We quickly packed and left the bags near the door of our suite. The staff will make the move for us as soon as the room is available. The bus station is a short walk, we got there 10 minutes before departure. It’s only a half hour ride to Trevlin through picturesque hills and dales. The countryside actually takes on a look of Wales. May be that was what drew John Evans and his fellows here about 100 years ago?

The town is a bit disappointing. We expected something like Solvang, the little Danish settlement just north of Santa Barbara, California. It started much like Trevlin but has developed into a tourist destination with Danish restaurants, crafts and architecture. There is little evidence of the original settlement here. We did visit the old Flour Mill started by John Evans and his house where we met Clarey Evans. She is John Daniel Evans Granddaughter. It was raining so we had to forgo the walk through wet grass to see the grave of Jon Evans horse. There is some sort of story about how the group was attacked by natives and the horse saved his life but we didn’t quite get it? Clarey is a wonderful character and we enjoyed talking with her even though she of British Isles decent speaks no English. I hope you can see the video here. She describes her Grandfathers little house with interesting detail on the materials used in construction.

Shit Horse

The Welsh are known as Galesis in Spanish. Clarey did have some Welsh writings and lots of memorabilia of the settlement days and her family. Just a short walk away we were drawn into Restaurant Patagonia Celtic. (We had no idea that the Welsh, like the Irish and Scots, are Celtic peoples.) The menu, servers and other diners had little or no connection to anything we would think of a Welsh. The food was good, they served a long narrow tray of dip spreads for the very good bread.

The old flourmill is a Museum now. It is on three levels and does have some history of the original families. There are lots more items of clothing and tools from the early times here. Unfortunately, our Camera decided to seize up and the pictures of most of these things are trapped on a Mini CD? If we are able to retrieve them we’ll try to get Wally to set them in here for you to see. Among the interesting were pictures of Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid. Remember, they owned a Ranch near here until they grew restless and went south to Rio Gallegos to rob a bank.

Cat was on a quest to find the Tea House. Rain drizzled as we wound our way through the little muddy streets. When she did find the place it was another disappointment. No Welch Cakes like her Grandma used to make, just local pastries Argentinean style. There was a small market trying to get set up in the rain. Booths selling cakes and cookies or other craft items.

The bus departs at about 4:00 PM. It took longer than the coming, it was after 5:00 PM by the time we were back in the Station. We hustled to Cumbres Blancas, a glass of wine and the latest CNN news. Oh, the bad news, CNN only works in the Suite or the game room. So, we savored our wine and news in the game room.

There is a Restaurant, Don Chicquire, next door. They serve pasta, which sounded pretty good, to us. It’s a family operation catering to families but the pasta was good.

A short look at the Larry King Live show but the game room is cold and we were anxious to get into the crisp clean sheets.

October 11, 2004
Columbus Day, Holiday

Why did it surprise us that today, Columbus Day, is celebrated here? After all, he was Italian but commissioned by Spain. And, Spain did control most of South America for centuries. The bad news, most shops are closed, not that we really need anything. Cat did find a Lavanderia open and took our road dirty cloths in. I stayed in and worked at the e-mail messages. We were back to 150 this morning. Wally the Wizard WebMaster, sent out a little announcement about our birthdays and lots of friends from all over the world are sending nice messages.

Cat did find a tiny store open and got the usual, ham and cheese. We picnicked in the room then I worked on our journal while Cat took her turn on the Internet. A couple of sit-coms and a movie filled our afternoon then we walked to the Lavanderia for the cloths. Wow, only 8 Pesos, less than $3.00 for a huge bag of really dirty things!

Dinner downstairs again. The staff, Veronica and the rest, are just great. They also have a good wine list. Cat had a stuffed Trucha, (Trout) more meat for me.

We sipped the last of our wine and watched Larry King interview Laura Bush. She is so genuine and honest that we’ve always felt that she should be President instead of George. Just to set the record straight, we both thought Hilary might have been better than Bill, too.

October 12, 2004
World Riders2 at 2 ½ Years
A Work Day in Esquel

After the better than average included breakfast we rode the Coyote Bikes. The place is busy, three guys working and it’s well stocked with bikes and parts. Pablo, the owner knows and love bikes. He listened to our story, told us he was very busy then slipped us in between his other jobs. The 2 technicians, Pablo and Hernan, started checking then Pablo the owner stopped working at his computer and took over. He showed us that the chains were worn, badly. Probably from the ride in rocks and dirt, Ruta Cuarenta had taken its toll? Also, one problem with my bike, he found that the threads on the rear axel are slightly out of line which could be the cause of premature wear to the freewheel. So, he recommended that we change chains and freewheels.

Cat went to the Post Office and mailed the pictures for the Ushuaia to Esquel journal pages to Wally the Wizard Web-Master and a package of brochures etc. home. They gave her a bit of a problem at first and wouldn’t accept them. Then she was directed across the street to a package store where a fellow wrapped them to Correo Argentina’s standards. Funny though when she took them back to mail they told her that since they have no Aduana the nice package will go to Buenos Aries, be unwrapped and inspected, then sent on?

We cycled back and stopped at the train station. Yes, we can take the bikes aboard, they have a freight car. So we reserved our seats and will live one of life’s little dreams, tomorrow.

Lunch in the Game Room accompanied by CNN News. I worked on the journal most of the afternoon. Cat shopped and prepared us for a camping night, tomorrow. We got the bags packed and most of them back on the bikes then dined down. Pasta, a carbo-loading meal, and tomorrow we ride.

October 13, 2004
La Trochita then Campsite
64 Kilometers

Loaded up on breakfast then finished loading the bikes and rolled toward La Trochita. Early, like kids at Christmas, we pushed up the hill and into the station at 9:15 AM. Surprise, there were lots of people already buying tickets. The Station Master remembered us and got our seat reservations out. We walked up and down, took pictures and tried to figure out how and when we’d load the bikes aboard.

The Little Train That Could

A guy opened the door to the rear car and waved to us. The crowd clustered a bit and we assume they were trying to figure out what the heck we were doing. Front wheel up then he pulled and I lifted. We tied them down, found our seats in the passenger car and waited in anticipation. The little engine began to puff and snort then the engineer gave us two long blasts of the whistle. We began to roll, the engine huffing and puffing.

Trochita

All seats were full, when I tried to take pictures the lady across from us urged me to lean out her window. At one point the Engineer had to blast the whistle to clear a flock of sheep off the tracks. Well, the train is a tourist attraction but for a moment it felt like a step back in time. No, it’s not powered by a wood or coal fire, they have converted her to gas or diesel but she sounds and looks just like yesterday.

Ride on Trochita

The turnaround is at a place called Nuhuel Pan. Just a few trinket booths, 4 log cabins and toilets. We found a guide who spoke a little English and did a short video and took pictures. We did learn that they have 3 engines, the eldest was built in 1925. Reluctantly we rode onward out the dirt road toward the highway. It’s about 2 Ks of bumps, even had to ford a creek. There was a flock of goats sharing the shallows with us.

Trochita

Funny as we rode up onto the paved road we realized that we were just 1 kilometer short of the spot where Jorge had picked us up just a few days ago. Nice to be in a familiar place but it didn’t last long. At the Rotunda we took a right and pulled a fairly steep hill. We were on the way to Bariloche.

At 10 Ks out we ran head on into another cyclist, Shahram. He’s the rugged individualist type, sleeping in rain culverts and living off the road. He’s from Toronto and has been traveling one way or another for years. His last job was as a consultant with a bank. A very nice guy, he’s cycling into Esquel, crossing into Chile then on to Ushuaia. He loves travel and South America so he’ll buy a motorcycle there and ride it north. We vowed to stay in touch and meet again in the north.

Shahram

Now its all prairie rimmed with the majestic Andes. Finding a campsite is interesting. We like to be near enough to the road that it’s not a struggle getting there but far enough to be out of site. Sometimes tough to do since most of the road is fenced about 20 to 30 meters (50 to 60 feet) from the roadside. Our residence for the evening will be in a notch above the road. We’re out of view of northbound traffic. Southbound cars and trucks see us and often honk and wave.

We set the tent, locked the bikes behind it and began the cooking process. Rice will be nice, the pot was boiling nicely but I had to look. Oops, somehow I spilled the rice and water right in the doorway of the tent. I quickly scooped up the clean top part of the pile, we added more water and rice and Cat took over. Geez, we have to be careful stepping in and out not to slip in the rice. We speculated on animals that might be rice eaters. Fortunately there are few animals here, glad we’re not still in Africa!

Cat added canned corned beef to the rice and eventually we had a very tasty meal. There’s even enough left to take along for lunch tomorrow. We were in the sleeping bags by 9:00 PM.

Footsteps in the Dark

Oh, we’ve experienced this before and I’ve forgotten to share it. The rain fly flaps in the wind and we wake up hearing footsteps. Slowly, listening carefully, we sit up, grab the light then unzip expecting to catch a bike thief in the act. Nope, just the wind.

October 14, 2004
Campsite to Epuyen
76 Kilometers

Both awake early, we peeked out of the tent and into a cold, cloudy morning. Too cold to jump up into so we snuggled back for half an hour. Rather than set up and heat coffee and oatmeal we just ate our bananas, yogurt and the media lunas Cat lifted from Cumbres Blancas. Not bad and it helped us get back on the road by 10:00 AM.

The road runs flat, along a river most of the day. The wind was there but not totally unfriendly. The mountains run parallel to the road, on both sides.

We lunched on our rice and corned beef under a row of pine trees. The cold wind whistled and we were forced to put our head covers back on. Cold drove us back onto the bikes in short order.

At 60 Ks out we hit the hills that we’d heard were waiting for us. A long pull up then a flat sort of mesa. A sign pointed the way to Cholila, the place 49 Ks or so off the highway where Butch and Sundance had retired. We set up and did a little Bandit picture in their honor. There is an Indigenous Peoples Museo we thought we wanted to see until the sign told us it was 3 Ks down a dirt road.

Around the corner and just before a long sweeping downhill a little Fiat truck pulled up and waited for us. I approached with the usual trepidation and was relieved to see a woman driver. Can you believe, Selva Elisa is the Executive Sales Rep for Familia Martinez Wines. She spoke little English but we knew exactly how to accept when she handed us a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. What a wonderful gesture. We exchanged cards and promised to get together when we get into San Rafael. She drove off before we even thought of taking her picture.

Down, into a beautiful valley and up to the Service Station we’d seen advertised. Unfortunately it was closed and so was most of the rest of the little Pueblo. The sign pointed down the hill and promised a Hosteria. We set off and were soon on loose dirt and rocky road. The only saving grace was down. We were looking for any other place even though Veronica had told them we were coming. However, there was no other place and the next sign indicated 8 Kilometers to the Lake. Cat wasn’t that happy about this part of the days ride. It was tough and bumpy. Then came the turn, into the wind and up a hill. She was ready to call it quits. It was almost 6:00 PM by the time we pulled into El Refugio del Lago.

The place was deserted except for a couple of barking dogs. We rang a bell hanging over the door and a petite French gal, Sophie, came from the garden hands caked with mud. She and her Husband, Jacque are from France. They came here as Ski Instructors and stayed. She told us that they played house monopoly in Bariloche until they had enough equity to buy their dream place, here. They do all the work and it is a constant project. She led us around back to a bedroom where we parked the bikes. It’s connected to another bedroom with heat and a shower.

We were tired and wanted a glass of wine. Sophie had a bottle of Chablis that hit the spot. We sat and sipped and watched CNN. Yes, this little outpost has Directo TV.

After a shower we dined in style, fresh lettuce, spinach, carrots and herbs from Sophie’s garden. Jacque is in Bariloche, he bought a car but it is giving him problems. He’ll be back tomorrow but we’ll miss him. They are from the Bourgogne region and her cooking reminds us of those wonderful days we spent in France. Sophie runs the Hosteria and Jacque leads trekking and cycling adventure trips in season. Between repairs to the old house, the flow of guests and his trips they stay pretty busy. Besides the rooms they also have 30 or so campsites.

A second marriage for both, they have grown children and a 14-year-old daughter, Layla. She and her friend Jade were watching TV and we enjoyed watching them. It’s a kids show is from the States and is wrapped around American history. The characters, kid actors, were dressed like Abe Lincoln and George Washington. The girls laughed but we were pretty sure that they got the funny lines but missed the inferences. They went outside and played badminton while we ate and watched the latest on CNN. And dinner, wow, Chivito (goat) in a stew with lots of fresh veggies. A fire in the fireplace warmed us and the Postres, Dulce Leche Flan really topped off a wonderful meal and at last, a wonderful day.

We were in bed by 9:30 PM.

October 15, 2004
Epuyen to Las Golondrinas (Posada de Olaf Hosteria)
30 Kilometers (Rained Out)

Though the weather report said no, Mother Nature decided to give us rain during the night. The ground is wet this morning and the clouds are thick. Sophie cooked a custom breakfast of fried eggs, coffee and toast. Enough fuel to get us up the hill. Then, as we prepared to go Sophie offered to drive us to the top of the hill. We jumped at the opportunity. It’s a long, steep, rough road back up.

Loaded and ready to roll, Sophie came running past us and said, “Just 5 minutes, we must milk”. We walked to the shore of Lago Epuyen in the damp morning air. This is a rural paradise. Back at the Lodge, we could hear the goats bleating so we wondered over to the shed. Sophie and her helper each had a goat by the hind leg and were squeezing milk from them. This place is a little piece of France in Argentina. A typical French farm, goats, chickens, sheep, dogs and cats. They make goats milk cheese and sell it along with veggies from the garden, walnuts from the trees and honey. She is a ball of energy.

The old pickup truck is used to haul everything, living or inanimate. She insisted on sweeping out the leftovers of her last cargo, goats before we could lift the bikes in. She has to kick the passenger side door to get it open. Sophie told us she was taking a short cut, she roared up the hill in the wet and mud. At the top she pulled up next to a sign advertising her place and we unloaded in a light drizzle. A picture, hugs and cheek to cheek kisses then at 10:30 we were underway.

The rain stopped and we rolled down into a beautiful verdant valley. The road flattened, the green thickened and snow-capped mountains surrounded us. An ominous dark layer of clouds hovered near the peaks. We rolled through El Hoyo, the town of Frutas mas Fina and almost missed it. The clouds began to make good their threats and the drizzle returned in earnest. Up a long slow 4 K pull up and into a wall of rain. Motivated by the downpour we pedaled hard to avoid pushing. It was 12:30 when we arrived at Olaf’s, a place we’d seen signs for. We found a spot to lean the bikes under an eve then decided to have lunch and wait out the rain.

Soaked, we shed the outer layers of dripping rain cloths near the door. Cat was shivering. The woman, who greeted us, seated us near a little gas stove and turned it up. We were soaked through and through. The heat was slow to escape the little iron stove. Cat hovered over it as we ordered and waited. The heat and a bowl of soup finally began to warm us. The weather outside was horrid, the rain poured.

They have rooms available, we decided to stay in out of the deluge. Our room is upstairs, the bikes are down in a water heater closet. The warm shower chased the last of the chills away. We settled in, I sat on a plow seat and edited pictures, Cat lay back on the bed and wrote in her journal. They only have on TV station and it is definitely Spanish.

My eyelids were so heavy that I lay back on the bed, relaxed then slept. Cat washed our pots, pans and dishes. Then she lay back and read about the sights of Bariloche and the 7 Lakes. The rain continued to pound down until after 5:00 PM.

Dinner at 8:00, they were cooking Asado de Cordero, that wonderful Patagonian lamb on a spit next to the fire. They had a whole lamb spread eagle and were cooking for a party tonight. The woman, Petti, (a nick name for petite, given by her family when she the became the shortest of them) talked with us. She’s the owner, her husband, Olaf, died 2 years ago. It’s hard work for her and the kids aren’t interested on carrying on. Tough, another of those dreams that were interrupted by life’s constant changes. Olaf’s a big, happy looking Scandinavian guy in pictures over the bar. He looks like he’s spinning a tail or two to guests and enjoying the fruits of his labors. Petti told us that he was 68 when he died. She has the place on the market and would like to sell and move on.

The big party is for Olaf and Petti’s youngest son who is 25 today. It’s a family affair. They began to stream in as our dinner was finally served at 9:00 PM. The festivities would start at 10:30. We knew that we’d miss it.

October 16, 2004
Las Golondrinas to El Foyel
62 Kilometers

The sun shone brightly on the pine trees and the air was fresh and clean. A coffee and bread start then we rolled the 7 Ks, mostly down, into El Bolson. It’s a nice town, the LPGB says it was a Mecca for Hippies in the 70s but is now a tourist destination. In a way it reminded us of Mendocino, California. We stopped at the Super Mercado and replenished our food for camping. The locals were busy setting up a Saturday morning street market. We made our way through the booths to the Tourist Office but were disappointed, they offered little info or service. The girl did have a map that we liked but it’s sold, only in a set of three. The other two were worthless to us so we passed the on the deal and moved on.

The town is picturesque and surrounded by those ever present, snow capped Andes. The rode out is up. We pedaled hard not wanting to push. About 10 Ks out we met two cyclists coming toward us. Clement and Cedric are from France. Nice young guys, they are really roughing it. Traveling on a very tight budget, they cook all meals and free camp almost everyday. We thought that our bags and bikes were looking pretty worn until we met them. Cedric began cycling in Montreal, Canada and Clement joined him in Central America. They are trying to make it to Ushuaia before their money runs out. They were intrigued with our Auto Shifters and each took a turn trying them out. It’s hard to explain but despite a language barrier there is a common link between cyclists. Our trip is much different than theirs but we can relate.

The hill and our resolve to ride it stiffened. It was a tough up bet we made it without pushing. Near the top we came upon a small group of houses. We thought we’d made it to El Foyel. A sign drew us in, the name Shanti and a beer mug. Of course we thought it was an Irish Pub and the word Parador led us to believe that they may have rooms for rent. The door was bolted but we could see a person inside. A knock and Ushia opened up and invited us in. She may be one of the non-conformists that drifted here 20 years ago. From Austria originally she said that she’d traveled the world before falling in love with this place, these mountains.

The name Shanti is eastern, from India and a far cry from Ireland. Ushia brews beer and sells it by the bottle. We passed on her brew but did sample a few of her homemade cookies. She has 3 kids that were all born here. Cat asked about a husband and she answered, “He’s in Buenos Aires”. She didn’t elaborate whether he was on a short business trip or living there permanently? We didn’t ask. She did tell us that we have more up and it’s 13 Ks to El Foyel.

Up a little then down a swooping hill to the river and then back up. We stopped for a breather twice but rode the entire. It was actually 20 Ks before we found the Pueblo and a Confiteria, a small café. We sat at a table near a wood fired stove. It was really cold and damp outside. There’s a guy and a Gaucho sitting, drinking a liter of beer at one table and 3 people, 2 gals and a guy sitting, talking at another. Nobody seemed to take notice of our arrival. We tried to ask the guy with the Gaucho about food and a room. He said something about not ready? It took several tries to get his point, he’s the owner but his wife hasn’t made up the room, yet.

A young guy appeared and asked for our order. He had a bottle of very inexpensive white wine. We tasted and bought. I brought the crackers and cheese in from our bags and we snacked. The wife came in and seemed almost cranky about having to make up the room.

It was raining now, we brought the bikes around the building and into the back. The let us keep them in the hallway. Our reticent hostess warmed a little, and brought an electric heater into the cold damp room. She also taught me how to light the strange gas heater in the bathroom and promised dinner at 8:00.

There is no menu, no choice. She had said meat and potatoes. We sat and stoked up the fire in the café from 8:00 until 9:00 PM when she brought out two plates. The steak was Milanese, a thin cut of meat pounded, breaded in corn meal and deep-fried. The potatoes were mashed. All in all it tasted pretty good. We were hungry. We watched the only other diner watch local TV while we ate.

Even with the little heater the bedroom was pretty cold. Cat slept in her long underwear.

Sunday, October 17, 2004
El Foyel to ACA Station
45 Kilometers

We awoke to the sounds or rain. Grandma served us toast and coffee. The rest of the family was sleeping. Today is Mothers Day here. WE found CNN on the TV and ate slowly hoping the weather would clear. Grandma bid us adieu, she wanted to get across the street to her Nieto. (Grandson) It was 10:00 AM before we got up the courage to venture out.

The rain was now slushy snow. I was fearful that we would get stuck in a snowstorm in the pass ahead. Cat wanted to press onward, she couldn’t stand the thought of another night in El Foyel. Down at first then we started to climb. The higher we went the more snow filled the air. It was cold then the wind began to blow. Wind chill plummeted the temperature. The snowflakes became small and dry with a few hailstones thrown in for misery’s sake.

Misery

At the summit we stopped and huddled down behind the guardrail. We were in full winter gear, every coat and pair of pants we owned were on our bodies and we were freezing. Cat fears freezing, she began to weep. We huddled for a few minutes then pressed onward. Our hopes of reaching Bariloche were fading in the falling snow. We were pedaling downhill, against a persistent and cold wind.

Villa Mascardi looks like a village on our map. Short of Bariloche by 35 Ks, it is now our destination. The first signs of life after the City sign was a campground. We weren’t up for camping and it was up a steep hill and down a dirt road into the forest.

Our next sign of civilization was more promising, a Hotel. The gate was locked but we could see people inside. We shouted and waved until a guy and young girl came out. Bad news is bad news no matter the language. We couldn’t get what he was trying to tell us until the word, “Cerrado” came rolling off his tongue. Closed! We asked about other places but his rapid fire speaking was beyond our comprehension level.

Onward to the ACA Service Station shown on our map. WE pulled in and leaned the bikes against the wall. A guy came out and made it clear that we couldn’t leave them there. He pointed to an area further down the wall. Cat began to call him “El Grumpo”, not to his face but between us. Inside, Grumpo settled in next to a wood fire in an iron stove. A girl, his daughter, Florencia, was doing schoolwork. A woman, Delia, the Mom, appeared and told us that she had sandwiches. They were really pretty good and the fire was warming us a little. El Grumpo left, Delia knitted near the fire. Then Cat said, “Feliz Dia de Madres”. (Happy Mothers Day) The tension in the room melted. There is a woman working for them in the kitchen, her daughter, 5 year old Sheila, began to entertain us. We took a picture of her then one of Delia and Florencia.

Delia agreed to allow us to leave the bikes here overnight. She advised us that there would be a bus passing at 4:20 PM. As we readied to get to the road it rolled past without even looking at the station. Concerned, Delia said there was another at 5:20. We had our bags in arms and were struggling down the long driveway when it whistled past without slowing. What could we do, we carried our things on down and hoped that another would be by in the next hour. As a backup we began waving at trucks and cars hoping for a ride. None even slowed, the people in them either looked the other way or shrugged and waved.

We decided to stand in the cold wind until 6:30 then go back up to the ACA. Cat finally decided to go up and ask Delia to call a Taxi from Bariloche while I waited. She had just gone inside when a car pulled up. Three young guys, students, offered me a ride. I told them that mi Esposa was at the station. We loaded the bags in their trunk and I yelled and yelled. Cat came out, got the message and came running. We were on our way to Bariloche.

Ricardo, Martin and Sergio are from Mendoza. They have been at a school camp but are going to Bariloche to dance tonight. Really nice young guys. Cat asked what time the dance starts. They will have dinner then the music starts at 1:00 AM? Wow, they’ll dance until 5:00 then drive on home to Mendoza.

They dropped us at the Tourist Office. The guy there was very helpful. He suggested several Hotels, we decided to go for the closest. It was a 4 star and the tour buses were rolling in. They only had twin beds and the rate was $130 US. I sat for a minute at the desk then they started to receive another Bus full of tourists. The guy was nice but wanted his desk back. He suggested The Hotel Kenton Palace a couple of blocks back the way we’d just come from. Tired, we both struggled carrying the bags. The place looked pretty sterile from the street. We climbed the 30 stairs and dropped the bags in the lobby. Hugo, a big guy with a bigger laugh greeted us. He spoke great English and invited Cat to take a look at the only “Matrimonio” room they have left.

She came back pleased. The cost is in the 180 Pesos or $60 US range. We have found a home in Bariloche. The place is small, the staff personable and, they have CNN in English. They even presented us with a welcome glass of wine. Oh, to top it off, they have an Internet connection for guests.

It was already after 8:00 PM. We took a quick, warm shower and went down to the restaurant. Dinner, pasta, was very good and reasonably priced, too.

CNN news, Christopher Reeves, the actor best known for his role as Superman and his fall from a horse that left him quadriplegic, died today. He was always very positive and did a lot for other people with spinal cord injuries. He’s been a big proponent for Federal assistance for Stem Cell Research. Larry King live aired clips of him from previous visits to the show. He was a fighter.

October 18, 2004
ACA Station to Bariloche
A Ride Back With New Friends
35 Kilometers

The included breakfast lived up to Hugo’s description. We didn’t see the eggs and sausages (hot dogs) until we were leaving. I said hello to a gal at the buffet, she said hello back. Surprised I asked where she is from, Cat came up and Joan introduced us to her Husband, Robert. They’re from Wetmore, Colorado a small town near Colorado Springs. Actually they live on a ranch near Wetmore. Really nice to speak English, our brand of English. We told them of our trip and learned a little of their lives. He’s a Doctor but seems to own clinics rather than practice.

We went up and packed our front bags preparing to get back to the bikes and ride into town. Back down, Hugo was talking with Robert as we walked up. They finished and we asked about a bus out to the ACA. As Hugo explained that there are only 3 each day Robert intervened, he said, “We’ve rented a car, we can drive you out there”. We hated to bother them but he insisted. Joan came down but wanted some breakfast. He promised her breakfast after they got us out the 35 Ks. So, we were a foursome and headed for the ACA.

More chitchat as the kilometers flowed under the cars wheels. They are interesting and we enjoyed each other’s company. Robert is interested in Preventive Medicine and wanted to know all about Cat’s heart attack. They are horse people but enjoy riding bikes, too. Joan had spent an hour on the treadmill at the hotel rather than venture into the wind to get her jog in. We found so many things to talk about that the ride wasn’t enough. As they dropped us off we made a date for dinner, tonight.

The ride into town was a delight, a sunny delight. It was mostly downhill, we even had our first taste of tail wind since we can remember. The 35 Ks, which has been more than half a day’s ride most of our recent days in the winds, just flew by. We rolled down a very steep hill and up to the hotel in just 2 hours. The great staff opened the delivery door to the kitchen and we parked the bike in the hallway.

After a refreshing shower Cat went looking for a Laundromat and Super Market. I began working my way through our more than 100 e-mails. Cat returned with a picnic lunch, we ate in our room then she went back to computer downstairs and I hit our keyboard and worked on journal pages.

The Liana, Colorado Connection

I called to let Robert and Joan know that we’d made it back and would meet them for a glass of wine before dinner. Then, one of the smallest of small world connections, he asked if we knew Liana, Joan’s best friend? Liana had told Joan about friends who are traveling the world on bicycles and urged her to take a look at our web site. I was shocked, of course we knew Liana.

Liana walked into the Real Estate Company I worked with back in 1976. She had just made the move from Wyoming and applied for the Administrators job with us. We worked together their for 3 years. When I opened my own Real Estate Company she was the first Sales Agent to join the firm. I sold the company and went chasing rainbows on a bicycle in 1988. She became an Independent Agent selling New Homes. When I returned in 1990 she and I opened a small Company. We even dated for a time but our dreams just didn’t intertwine. She wanted a ranch and horses, I wanted another trip around the world on Bicycle.

She and her friend Jim now own Horses, a Ranch and Real Estate Company. Of course Cat and I are living our Cycling Dream, too. Don’t you just love it when DREAMS COME TRUE?

Liana Who?

The four of us walked to a rather famous place, Alberto’s, for dinner. Fame comes through huge pieces of meat for this place. Robert and Cat spit a massive Bife de Lomo, Joan had Bife de Chorizo, a Sirloin Steak and I chose lamb. The table ranneth over with good things and joyous conversation.

As we walked back Dr. Robert prescribed Chocolate Ice Cream. Bariloche is famous for Chocolate. They all had a cup of it, I settled for Coffee I don’t eat Chocolate.

A little CNN News in English then we lay back on our wonderful sheets and pillowcases and counted our blessings.

October 19, 2004
Rest and Plans

A good breakfast with eggs and hot dogs today. Also very tasty media lunas and bread pudding. A trip to the Tourist Office yielded good info on tours and bus trips. We’ve decided to take a 7 Lakes Tour. Shopping for meds, CDs, Camping things and maps. Later we just walked around and enjoyed a beautiful day in a beautiful place. It reminds us of a Ski Town like Park City, Utah.

Snow-capped mountains, glowing white in the sun, surround the lake. A woman walked up and grabbed Cat’s arm. Shocked at first she pulled back then the gal reminded us that we had met her on La Trochita, the little train. Maria is from here in Argentina. She speaks no English so we had to do sign language. She just wanted to wish us “Good Luck” with our trip.

Wow, a reasonably good lunch of Mexican food. The owners of the restaurant are from Mexico City. Chicken tacos, beans and rice even chips and guacamole. The best of it was the music. It was low and background but we recognized the distinct Zydeco sound. The girl brought the CD cover to us. We know and have even shared the stage with most of the groups. She cranked up the volume, we ate and soaked up the sounds.

One of the recommended Tour Companies was just down the street. We booked our 7 Lakes Tour. It is an all day bus ride, we hope it’s worth it? I journalized while Cat made a trip to the Pharmacy and paid for our tour tickets.

Pizza for dinner at a small place called Vogue. Really good! We took a few minutes on the Internet then watched Larry King Live. The Scott Peterson murder trial verdict is being delayed until after the Election? How did this California issue get so big? The consensus among the panel is that he will get off? No body or other hard evidence just circumstantial.

October 20, 2004
Journey to The 7 Lakes

Early to bed, early to rise. Thank goodness for wakeup calls. Funny, we usually awaken by 7:00 AM but the 6:30 call was tough to take. We were dragging? Another good breakfast and the bus was there on time, we were off to the Lakes at 8:00.

Surprise, the bus was full, 9 others and us. Claudio, the driver had a problem with the microphone. We all tried to tell him it was okay to just ride because every time he spoke the feedback almost blew our ears out. When he did finely iron out the problem we were glad. His comments and jokes really made the time pass quickly. The couple seated in front of us struck up a conversation. Ethel, pronounced Ayetel, is originally from Argentina, she and husband Cornell live in Sun City, Henderson Nevada. What a wonderful couple. They’ve been married for 20 years, he’s 81, and she’s a little younger. They share 10 grandchildren. The amazing thing is, they met at grief counseling. They’d both just lost their spouses and as they worked out the losses they got to know each other.

Another guy also spoke English, Roger is originally from the Philippines but now lives in Washington, DC. He’s only about Cat’s age but has been retired for 10 years. He is a devout traveler and lives a frugal lifestyle to afford his trips. It all started with a trip down the Nile in Egypt.

Falls

***The picture of a bus wheel is to remind us that when we first saw this apparatus on trucks and buses we thought it was for the hydraulic brakes? It was Dr. Eduardo who first told us that it is actually an air hose connected to each wheel. If the tire looses pressure a compressor fires up and pumps. A stopgap to the problem of flat tires that often causes accidents. We thought it was a great idea and asked if it was something new, we should do this back home. Dr. Eduardo surprised us when he said, “They’ve been using this idea here for more than 20 years”. Why is it that we think all great ideas originate in the USA? An American Superiority Complex?” ***

A perfect, sunny and warm day. A lot of the road is Ripio, dirt and rock. The drive is through forests and along the shores of the lakes. All very beautiful but not dissimilar to the things we’ve seen while cycling into Bariloche. Pictures from above then a lunch break in San Martin de los Andes. Roger brought things for his lunch so he headed for the Park. Ethel and Cornell went into the place we stopped in front of. We thought it might be a relative of Claudio, it was just a so-so looking fast food place. We walked on and found a nice little sandwich shop on the main street. As we ordered Ethel and Cornell walked up, they decided against fast food, too. We sat at adjacent tables and enjoyed lunch as well as getting to know each other.

Up Lake, Downtown

The pine-covered mountains gave way to desert looking hills covered with interesting rock formations. We made a stop at Confluenzia, the cross roads that we will cycle when we set off from Bariloche. The guy at the ACA Station confirmed that the little Hosteria across the river is open. This could be our first stop our to Bariloche.

It was 7:30 PM when the bus dropped us at Hotel Kenton Palace. Roger mentioned that he was having a huge steak at Alberto’s, the place we dined at with Robert and Joan last night. We’d talked about going to Alberto’s Pasta place but the memory of the meat and meeting Roger won out. I had Goat, again. Cat’s chicken was so huge that she could only eat half of it. Roger ate his entire huge steak.

He’s 55 years young and has been retired from banking since he was 40. Made some good Real Estate investments and is living off the royalties.

Late night, CNN News then sleep.

October 21, 2004
Getting Ready to Ride

I buried myself in the pictures for the journal. Cat shopped for camping food. It looks like we may have to camp several nights in a row. She has us pretty ready to go now. Sandwiches in the room for lunch then we walked around asking and finally found butane gas for our camping stove.

Back to the grind, I did finish the photos and Cat got them off in the mail to Wally. Dinner downstairs, salad and pasta.

The weather has changed, the wind is howling and the rain is falling.

A little Larry King Live with guest Celine Dion then, sleep.

October 22, 2004
Bariloche to Confluencia
67 Kilometers

A final included breakfast then bags down and finally ready to go by 9:00 AM. Then I discovered that when they moved the bikes around in the kitchen hallway someone had lifted mine by the seat and pulled it loose. So, it was a cold windy morning on the sidewalk, we leaned the bikes next to the window of the kitchen, pulled the seat off and went back in. I took about half an hour to repair it under the watchful eye of the Security Guard. He may have been the culprit? He said not a word and every time we glanced at him he cast his eye in the other direction.

There is sun but the wind is strong and blustery. Down the street, right onto the Camino and, with wind at our backs, we flew out of town. Traffic was moderate and mostly friendly. The road takes a left after 6-7 kilometers and climbs along the northern lakeshore. That was a bit more of a challenge. A brisk side wind had us wobbling upward in understanding traffic.

Back to the right and with the wind downhill that may have set our speed record. We pulled up at 1:00 PM and sat in the sun next to the wall of an Estancia. The owners pulled out, saw us and waved, started to pull away then stopped and a guy hopped out and locked the gate. Maybe not distrust, just “Strangers in the Neighborhood”.

After a long flat run along a glistening creek we turned upward and into the wind. All the time gained in our friendly wind was soon lost. Then the clouds thickened and rain began, small drops at first then they thickened, too. We donned our raincoats and pants and plowed onward. Then, as we started a little downhill the rain turned to wet snow. It wasn’t sticking but it was falling fast, bringing the temperature down and soaking us.

A Parilla pulled us in, nobody, nobody spoke English. The 3 women drinking colas tried to communicate. One of them turned out to be the owner or at least partner. Her Son and Daughter-in-Law got the point across that they only had full liter soft drinks. We couldn’t drink that much and when I sort of pled they poured me a glass. Cat was so cold that all she wanted was to huddle next to the old wood-burning stove. The best news, the young guy told us that Confluencia was just 6 more kilometers.

Onward to the ACA Station where they confirmed that the Hosteria Gruta de las Virgenes across the river was open. By now the snow was sticking to our raincoats and the bags. We rode across the bridge then pushed up the steep driveway. The women at the doorway didn’t seem too happy to see us. They were most concerned with our wet muddy shoes. Cat went inside and confirmed that they had a room then I off loaded the bags into the entry area. They really were wet, the women put down a few rags for us to wipe our feet on. We had to leave the bikes in a carport so all bags had to come off.

Once inside we let the bags dry while we had a snack and a glass of wine next to a roaring fire. The fireplace is round and has a huge metal cover that directs smoke out but keeps heat in. We sat near it, draped our soaked clothing on chairs nearby and relaxed. Finally we even put our shoes and the wettest of our cloths around the edge.

Lydia, the owner, softened a bit as we sat. She tried to tell us of her life and that though we are the only guests tonight they are very busy during fishing season. Her husband struggled across the rock driveway in his wheelchair. He was not friendly. He’s lost a leg to accident or disease and didn’t want to socialize. He turned on the TV at 6:00, when the electricity came on. We had to wait until after 7:00 PM for hot water.

The warm shower felt great. A dinner of trout, potatoes and vegetables topped off with warm apple cake soon had us feeling human, again.

Early to bed, the Hubby dominated the TV and Lydia told us they only get the one channel anyway. The snow has stopped, the skies are clear, maybe tomorrow will hold less cold.

October 23, 2004
Confluencia to Campsite #1 at Km 1093
62 Kilometers

We awoke to howling wind. The snow had retreated up to the higher hills but it filled the wind with cold. Lydia provided a bread and coffee breakfast. We carried bags down then I brought the bikes over and loaded in the brisk breeze.

Once down the driveway, we turned into a brisk tail wind. It even pushed us up some pretty stiff hills. Though it remained cold it was helpful. We stopped at the top of one of them and huddled while we ate the sandwiches Lydia had made for us.

A little further along, we found the remains of a town and the beginnings of a waterfront community. Real Estate agents are always curious about places where there are streets, utilities and this one had the initial work completed for a Marina. We wondered why progress has stopped then of course we thought about who we know that might be interested in it? Wait, we could have stayed at home if we were interested in doing business.

Marina Project

Miguel The Magician

Rolling along, we noticed a bike with bags leaning against a tree. We turned into a dirt driveway and rode toward a house and truck parked nearby. As we approached a guy, Miguel, came out and waved to us. He’s been cycling with his brother, they split up in San Martin de los Andes and he’s headed home, to Bariloche. Language aside, we had a good time talking with him. He works as a Magician, Juggler and Deejay when they don’t have live bands. He did a little juggling with some fruit and posed with us for a picture. Nice guy, the people in the house invited us in for Mate but we graciously declined, waved goodbye and rode onward.

The Rio Colon Cora is so wide that it could be a lake. The road rises and falls above it’s shoreline then we made a fast downhill run to the bridge and crossed in a heavy cross wind. The road splits, one toward Neuquen and Ruta 40 that sets off to the left and into the wind. After cycling only 2 kilometers we found a spot below the road that would make a nice campsite. After pushing the bikes down we set the tent then I ventured down to the river for water. We used it for cooking and saved our bagged water for tomorrow.

Cat cooked a tasty pot of pasta, we enjoyed it under the colors of a wonderful sunset.

Sunday, October 24, 2004
Campsite 1093 to Campsite Km 1069 at an Estancia
24 Kilometers

Awaking to a sunny wind free morn was a delight. After a quick breakfast we pushed back up to the road and set off. Within just 10 Kilometers we were struggling in a horrendous head wind. An hour of pushing and I was worn down. We pushed off the road and sought shelter behind bushes. I fixed a broken spoke while we rested. Cat was anxious to go, I could have just settled in there but she is concerned about having enough water to make the next few days.

More pushing and struggling than riding and finally we gave in and gave up. Our plan to make it to the crossroad faded in head winds. I sat and watched a line of ants struggle while Cat tried to flag down a truck. Yes, we decided that a ride to the cross roads would be the thing to do. There are very few vehicles passing. The first and only pickup looked us over and refused. Back to the ants, we felt a kinship to them. They were going downwind, picking up leaves and struggling back. The empty handed would run along then suddenly be blown a foot or two. Once burdened and facing the wind their task was almost undoable. They struggle from rock to rock looking for footholds like mountain climbers. A foot forward then the wind lifts them and slams them back a foot or foot and a half. And we thought we had it tough?

Our campsite was protected a bit from the wind but visible from the road. It’s up hill, above a fast running river. I went over the hill looking for water but decided not to risk getting too close to the dangerous looking bank. Cat cooked Shrimp Top Ramen, mmmm, mmmm, good.

Another early night filled with the continuing roar of the wind through the trees.

October 25, 2004
Campsite Km 1069 to Estancia Catan Lil, Campsite Km1006
63 Kilometers

The wind has died down a bit but still making a lot of noise rushing through the leaves of the trees. We took another quick breakfast, loaded up and rode into a slightly diminished headwind. The river holds a ribbon of green, trees and grass clinging to it’s wet shore. Beyond that it’s a brown, brown , brown, dry desert. We did pass a small herd of Guanaco and some wild looking horses.

Rudy Pours Agua

The crossroads we’d hoped for last night turned out to resemble their name. Rinconada we assumed means “Corner of Nothing”. We stopped a car and the driver confirmed that there is nothing on around the corner. As we talked a pack of dogs barked and scurried up the hill from a shack below. Rudy, the fellow living there came out and called to them. I yelled back, asking for agua. (Water) He disappeared into the shack then came out with a little bucket in hand and climbed up to us. What a nice guy. He poured the water from his tin can bucket then offered to go for more to fill all our bottles. I followed him down the hill for the fill.

The road swings up, we can see the top and the ribbon of asphalt that clings to it. As we began the tough looking climb the wind fell in with us and pushed us upward. We made the entire climb, 5 kilometers, with out pushing. We did pull up for rest 3 times.

At the summit we rounded a corner into a very uncertain wind. The only thing certain about it was it’s desire to push us off the edge. Full of sand and dust, we had to squint as we pushed into it. Almost like a hurricane, the force was so strong that we both lost footing and had the bikes ripped from our grip twice. Several times we had to stop, clamp the brakes down hard, bury our faces in our arm and wait out the gust.

Rounding the final corner the wind again fell in with us but it was too harsh to ride. We pushed up to the top then found shelter behind the bikes and a guardrail and downed some leftovers for lunch. It was interesting to watch the faces of bus drivers as they passed, lips pursed hands tight on the wheel. They knew what lay ahead.

Maria and The Movie

Struggling for the first kilometer then the road took a turn for the better and the heavy wind thrust us across the high plateau. Some ups and downs, some side winds that tried to blow us off the road. A building near the road looked like it could have been or was being rebuilt to be a Grocery Store. I pulled up, Cat kept pedaling up the little hill. I asked and a girl sitting near the door spoke good English, “Yes this is a Grocery Store”. I yelled and Cat swung back.

The girl at the door, Guadalupe, is here with a crew preparing the building for a movie that will be shot here, soon. The film is called “The Aura” and is the story of a man with epilepsy. The name has to do with the feeling that epileptics often experience when they begin to have a seizure. The plot is pretty thick, the crew is from Buenos Aires. They have built a fake wall across the front of the store. It hides the place from customers like us.

Maria owns the place. She is a seasoned gal like the shop itself. I fell in love with her ancient icebox and produce scale. The best was her hand operated lunchmeat slicer. We spent time there, taking pictures and loading up on bottled water, orange drink, ham and cheese. What an oasis and an unexpected replenishing of supplies.

Maria Slices

The sun was out and the tail wind kept pushing us along. We passed one Estancia because the house was up a long distant hill, we rode until after 6:00 PM.

South American Gothic

Another Estancia closer to the road. As we approached the little house at the gate a fellow, Miguel, came out to meet us. We asked about a room, he told us no but we could camp here. We found a spot near the woodpile and set the tent out of the wind.

There were a couple of barking dogs but they became friendly once we got our little house set up. We used a pitchfork and rake to clean up the campsite. Then posed for our version of “South American Gothic.

Rice with corned beef tasted pretty good, we were hungry. It was late, 10:30 PM, by the time we bedded down under a full moon.

October 26, 2004
Campsite Kilometer 1006 to Campsite Kilometer 923
83 Kilometers

A bright, sunny, wind free morning greeted us. We enjoyed running water in Miguel’s front yard. A face wash, brushing teeth and cleaning our dishes, pots and pans. Miguel and 3 friends came out and asked about our equipment, how much it cost. I skirted the issue by telling them that it is old, 5 or more years old. I wished later that I’d asked them how much they get paid. We’ve heard that most ranch hands here make only about 600 Pesos $200 US Dollars) per month.

It was warm and sunny with some wind. We rode hard and long. There were lots of ups and downs but the wind was friendly. Lunch on the roadside, leftovers again.

Pedaling up, my front gear shifting cable broke. That puts you in low gear, suddenly. I rode for a while but knew that we would be slowed to almost a crawl so I began to think of possible fixes. An idea was born, I could use a piece of wire and hook it back up. Unfortunately there was no wire in our bottle of tools. I pulled out a zip tie, those handy, strong plastic strips that we’ve carried since we left home. With a twist of the existing cable I looped the two together and we were back in business. Oh, I did have to stop and adjust a time of two but we were good to go.

La Bomba, The Oregon Connection

We posed for a picture at the road sign for an Estancia called La Bomba. Y Sister, Joan and husband Bill who live in a small town in Oregon, love old cars. They have a 1961 Chrysler Newport. It’s lowered and the top is chopped. We called it the Bat Mobile but they eventually named it, “La Bomba”. We hope they have as much fun seeing the picture as we did taking it!

At the top of a hill we could see a cluster of 4 or 5 homes down below, near the river. We rode down and talked with a young guy, Diego, who walked out to the dirt road to greet us. We couldn’t tell if he felt it was okay to camp, he did get a point across that the bridge had broken down.

The site was sandy but near the river. We pushed down the embankment and set up our home for the evening. I got river water to cook with and a good picture of a Gaucho crossing down stream from us.

We had spaghetti from Maria’s Market. Good food and another early to bed night. The sunset was more than spectacular!

October 27, 2004
Campsite Kilometer 923 to Zapala
2 Kilometers on Bike, 45 Km in Pickup Truck

Up to a beautiful sunny morning, we made oatmeal and coffee then sat in the tent looking out to the river as we ate. The perfectly still air began to stir then suddenly a huge gust rolled the tent over our heads and spilled our breakfast. We tried not to panic but felt trapped, the wind had us pinned down. I reached out and found the rocks we’d used to hold the tent in place last night. Then, we threw a couple of the bags back inside for additional ballast. Cat wiped up as much coffee and oatmeal as possible as I held the tent up off of us.

From that moment on we were in hurricane force winds. I carried the bikes and bags up the hill to the roadway and we loaded them. Then, into the howling wind full of sand and back up to the highway. It was a horrendous headwind until we turned onto Ruta 40. We caught a tailwind but it was too tough to really ride. Every time we passed an arroyo on the left we were almost blown off the road. Rounding a corner to the left put us head on, into the hurricane. We tried to push to the next corner but the sand and dust choked us. At the corner we found the side wind impossible to deal with.

Leaning the bikes we crossed the road and hunkered down behind a bush and guardrail. The sand was so bad that we had to bury our heads in our hands. There is so little traffic that we felt stuck, marooned. A young guy walked past, I stopped him and in halting Spanish asked if he or his family had a camioneta that he could take us to Zapala in? He seemed to say yes then skipped on down the road. We waited for a half hour then an old 150 Ford came around the corner. It wasn’t him but we flagged it down anyway.

Wind

The driver, Benerito was worried, his passengers, wife Elsa and friends, Dati and Barbarita looked at each other as though we were asking them to get out so we could ride. We used sign language to ask for a ride to Zapala. Yes they were going there but they have no room for us. We played charades to let them know that we and the bikes could ride in the back. Benerito shrugged then pulled the tailgate down and helped us lift the bikes in. The wind was ferocious when it came from the side but we were happy to be getting out of the storm.

As the old Ford struggled up a steep hill it began to sputter. Benerito pulled her over and the engine died. Oh boy, we may have to push in the wind, again? He got out and said, “No problema” then pulled a 2 liter plastic bottle out of his toolbox. He stood in the wind and poured the contents into the gas tank. The starter ground and ground then as suddenly as she had died the engine fired up and we were back on the road to Zapala.

They drove right into town and to the Service Station. We off loaded as they filled with combustible. (Gasoline.) Once on the ground the attendant asked us to push around the corner. Out of the flow of traffic. We repositioned then approached Benerito. We decided to give them 20 Pesos for combustible. He refused at first but we insisted and he took the bill. We were so happy to be in Zapala and that they had stopped to help us that $6.70 US was a bargain and it was obvious they could use the gasoline.

It was still so windy that we had to push the bikes around town as we sought out the Hotel Hue Melen. The Lonely Planet says it’s the best Hotel and only good restaurant in town? After asking and pushing we finally pulled up in front. A guy came out and invited us to bring the bikes inside. After holding the door for us he quickly checked us in. Strange, in many places we have to argue to be able to keep the bikes in our room, he helped push them around the corner, almost insisting we keep them with us.

Upstairs to lunch, he told us that the restaurant would close at 2:00 PM, just a half hour from now. We went up in our dirty, sweaty cycling cloths. Lunch was good but we were too tired to enjoy it. A warm shower felt beyond description. It’s been 4 days and we knew it. I was so zonked that I just lay back on the bed and rested. Cat was energized, she started out to walk to the Grocery Market but the wind wouldn’t allow it. So, she took a Taxi.

It was dinner up and again, really good food. We tried to watch a movie but couldn’t keep our eyes open.

October 28, 2004
Well Earned Rest in Zapala

Breakfast is served upstairs, too. It is provided by the Hotel and is something less than the restaurant food. The server is one of the guys from dinner, a friendly and he likes to joke with us. The food is basic, coffee and bread.

My first task is to find a Bike Shop to replace my shifter cable. Amazing, Bicicleteria Maba is just down the street. Nice guys, too, Marcello and Damian took it right in. Marcello tried to talk with me while Damian pulled the broken cable out and replaced it. The job was slightly different for them but I remembered watching Mohammed and Peter replace Cat’s back in Mokopane, Africa 4/17/04) so I helped a bit. Damian soon had things in control and finished the job in just minutes. What a surprise, the price? 3 pesos, 50 centavos or about $1.60 US for the part and labor.

Cat found a laundry and got our really foul smelling cloths to them. We walked around but couldn’t an Internet Shop. A taxi ride downtown and we found a place with fairly fast machines. A quick check, then off to lunch. A decent place on the main street, we enjoyed the food and view of locals coming and going.

I went back to the Hotel and our computer while Cat answered messages at the Internet Café.

For dinner we walked downtown in clear, still evening air. The Pizza place is really nice looking but the nice stopped there. Service was slow and the Pizza was cold. Cat even sent hers back, twice, for re-heating. The best of it was that they had Directo TV and programmed CNN for us. So, we had so-so, cold pizza and fresh hot news. Most of the news is dominated by the Presidential Campaign. All polls agree that it’s too close to call.

The walk back to Hue Melen was pleasant. A movie in English with subtitles then sleep.

October 29, 2004
Rest and Getting Ready to Ride

We were tired and road weary when we finally began to stir. Cat was hoping to get on the road today but I felt a deep sense of fatigue. Recalling the words of Vince Lombardi, the coach of the World Champion Green Bay Packers back in the 1970s, “Fatigue makes cowards of us all”, I decide that I needed another day of rest. I could also use the time to complete the journal pages of our ride from Ushuaia to Esquel.

At breakfast Cat made a deal with our friend, the waiter, to have him wash our dirty dishes. Well, she asked about using the sink and he insisted on doing them. I spent most of the day on our keyboard while Cat completely reorganized our bags. She emptied each and weeded out lots of things we haven’t used then prepared a package to mail home.

After a picnic in the room Cat went on the longest Post Office excursion we’ve experienced. They informed her that they won’t take any package over 2 kilos. So, she went to a Kiosk and got 2 boxes. The guy there wrapped them and she went back. One of the boxes was over weight and they wouldn’t accept it. She came all the way back to the Hotel and repacked them both. One of them was still a little overweight and they refused it. So, she pulled the packages apart again and shuffled things. Finally they accepted them, she had to re-wrap them on the floor of the Correo.

It was after 7:00 PM by the time she got back to Hue Melen. A glass of wine to calm her down then we dined upstairs. Trout for Cat and steak for me, both very good. We feel stronger and are sure we’ll get away tomorrow.

We did watch a movie but it was finished early and we were off to dream land.

October 30, 2004
Zapala to Las Lajas
65 Kilometers

Breakfast then, as we final packed Cat noticed that our little notebook, the one I carry and write names and e-mail addresses of people we meet was missing. I remembered having it out at the e-mail place yesterday. So, while she worked on packing I hoofed it back only to find the shop closed. I could see the notebook on the counter. Back to the Hotel, we explained our dilemma and our friendly clerk took over. He asked the mailman about the Internet place then started calling around, looking for the owner. Several calls and voila, the owner will meet us there in half an hour.

Packed and ready to roll, we expressed our gratitude to the clerk then pushed off. We cycled to the Internet place and waited. A woman opened the door and handed our notebook out then quickly closed up before we could even express our thanks. She didn’t seem too happy?

So, our plans for an early start were once again thwarted. We weren’t too worried, our ride today should only be 50 Ks and there is no wind. Out of town was an uphill experience. The up continued as we rode on. About 10 Ks out there is a round about and the turn to the left goes to the Land Fill. Several garbage trucks had passed and we were happy to see them turning.

Just a short way passed the circle a car slowed and passed. The guy in the passenger seat leaned out, cheered for us and yelled, “Where are you from”? I shouted back, “California, and you”? He laughed and said, “France”. They went on them pulled up, got out and he knelt in the road and shot pictures with a telephoto lens.

Pierre is a Photo Journalist. He’s been living here and working on a just finished book for 5 years. The book documents the life of Gauchos and their Mythical Horses. It’s written in French, he had a copy that they, taking to the Son of one of his photo subjects who just passed away. The book is beautiful, the coffee table type, hard bound, about 2 inches thick and full of wonderful pictures.

His friends, Patrick, Carlos, Manuel and Gerardo are all Argentinean. They’re going to a Gaucho Asado in Nuequen held to honor their fallen friend. Pierre shot dozens of photos of us, we even got a couple of him and his buddies. We talked for almost an hour, as long as both they and we could, then hugged, waved and rolled onward. I invited Pierre to come help us select photos and tell our story in a book when we finish our ride.

Just a few kilometers up the road we came upon a Citroen C6 and two people standing next to it, waving at us. Pablo and Roxanna are driving their 1974 classic on a 17,000-kilometer tour of Argentina. They’re headed south toward Ushuaia and have been on the road for more than 3 months. We told them of our experience on Ruta Cuarenta, they couldn’t believe we had chosen that road. Pablo told us that he didn’t want to take his classic baby on that rough drive. They’ll take route 3, The Pan Pacific Highway. We enjoyed talking with them and I loved knowing more about their trip and the CV6. It is one of my favorite little cars.

The wind was kicking up but was coming from behind us most of the time. A lot of the road is flat or uphill. Lunch along the road, Cat had packed ham and cheese so it was like so many of our roadside lunches.

The road took a strong uphill slant then began a downhill run past a hill that the sign called Cara de Indio, the face of the Indian. You be the judge, I could sort of see it Cat couldn’t.

As we reached the bottom of the hill and rounded the corner we met a greenbelt and headwind. Able to ride, we struggled down and into Las Lajas at 5:00 PM. The Officina de Tourismo gave us a map of the town and let us know that we haven’t arrived quite yet. It is off the highway, down a steep looping hill. Hosteria Angelica, the only place with a restaurant is at the bottom.

Angelica is wife of the Patron. She wouldn’t let us bring the bikes inside until he comes in and approves. We parked on the porch and took our clothing bags in and showered. Hen I went back out the Patron made it very clear that he wouldn’t have our bikes in the room or the hallway. I did my best to convince him but finally tired of the game and began to grumpily carry bags. He maintained his attitude, we began to call him El Graucho.

A walk to the local market for tomorrows lunch things and a bottle of wine. We sat in the room and sipped. Then, dinner and a whole new attitude from El Graucho. He was as friendly as one can be when faced with a language chasm. He’s the Chef and proud of it. The food, a steak, was the best we can remember having since we’ve been in Argentina.

The end of an English language movie that Mr. Graucho had found for us then off to bed.

Sunday, October 31, 2004
Halloween
Las Lajas to A Sandy Campsite
70 Kilometers

El Graucho was his usual self this morning and breakfast was a far cry from the wonderful dinner. Cold burnt toast, frozen butter and coffee served in a small pot that we had to share with the other guests. Yes, there were others, we were surprised.

The steep hill we flew down last night was equaled by a very steep up that required pushing to get out of the hole. A beautiful sunny morning seemed to make the push easier. As the day wore on and the sun reached its zenith it became hot. Cat has said that she will never complain about hot after all the cold we’ve suffered through. As we slowly plodded a herd of horses with 2 mule chaperones came ambling down toward the road. Keeping a wary eye I got a little nervous when they began to gallop toward us. Maybe they thought we were a threat to the colt they were protecting? Maybe they thought we were bringing food? Whatever, we picked up the pace and they stopped to watch us move on up.

Roadside lunch and then the wind kicked up in our faces. The afternoon was a struggle. We’d hoped to get into Churriaca but fell short by about 22 Ks. After 3 hours of struggle we gave in to the wind and found a bush to set camp behind. We were almost visual to the road and the sand was blowing around but it was the best we could see.

Setting the tent was a chore, the wind really fought against us. We’re so glad that we chose the 3 person tent, the bags are great ballast and we can’t imagine leaving them out with the bikes. Dinner was cooked through the flap. We would open, stir and close to keep the dirt out. Pasta of course. We are so glad that we loaded wine on board. This would be hard to take without a glass of Chardonnay.

Just a little cleanup then we sat and talked for a while. Our conversations constantly drift toward what life will be like when we get back home. Neither of us seems that anxious. Talk drifts from work to friends and family to wondering if we will ever really fit back in?

We lay quietly, listened to the wind and drifted off.

November 1, 2004
50 Ks then 50 in Cattle Truck

Cold cereal and yogurt, good and quick, too. The wind didn’t slow all night. We had to load in blowing sand and push back to the road in a dust storm. We struggled on a long slow up then finally turned the corner and caught a bit of tail wind. A row of trees off to the left looked like it might be Churriaca. If it is we’ll skip it.

Then a turn that gave us a real boost and we needed it, it was up. Churriaca turned out to be on the highway and to be just a wide spot. No store or café, just a house and mechanics garage. I went to the door of the house and asked if they had food or a soft drink. They were eating lunch, and at first they said no then the guy got up and poured a glass of their Orange Drink into a glass for me. I sipped then told him that mi Esposa would like some and indicated I would bring the glass back. “No problema”.

We sipped and decided to move on, see what the top of the hill would bring. As we rounded the corner the blast of wind swung from our backs to our faces. It was so strong that we had to pedal down a steep hill. Then it became a side wind, dangerous side wind. We stopped an