Oops, Forgot the Estimated Distance Cycled

We usually enter the distances we’ve cycled at the end of each leg of our journal. Last episode we forgot it and you asked for it. So, from Esquel to Mendoza we cycled 1159 Kilometers. Our distance cycled from Mendoza to Jujuy, this chapter, is 1300 Kilometers. Add these two to our previous total and you find that we have covered 26, 206 Kilometers, a lot of ground under our wheels. For us USA folks let’s talk mileage. Esquel to Mendoza rolled up 719 and Mendoza to Jujuy 806 for a grand total of 16,682 miles cycled.

Days On The Road

We set off on April 12, 2002 with a budget of 1000 days. Winter in Europe and now again here in Argentina ate into our time line. As we prepare to climb up to Bolivia the clock on our Home Page will begin ticking upward, 1000 plus 1 day on January 6, 2005.

Come Read Along With Us!

So, come along with us and enjoy the vineyards of Mendoza the foothills of the Andes and some hot desert days. Climb over Cuesta Huaco and Cuesta Miranda on dusty, dirt roads. Cycle through the beautiful Quebrada de Cafayate. Meet another bunch of interesting people and learn to love Argentina like we have. After 7 months here we have begun to think that this may be the place we will return to, maybe even live here at least part time, after we finish this epic journey.

PS Answers to often asked questions at the end of this chapter.

Mendoza to Jujuy, Argentina

November 29, 2004
Relax, Journal and Relax

So, if you remember, we did a tour of our new place at the end of last month’s journal. It is a wonderful apartment with view of Colon Street. The trees rustle in the breezes. We can see all the way to Aconcagua, the snow capped peak shows itself above the rooftops, when the clouds lift. It’s warmer here than Santiago was.

The day was spent resting, reading and writing. Cat caught up on the written journal pages. I worked on the computer once we were unpacked. This place feels like home. It’s hard to believe that our last apartment life was in Rio de Janeiro, 4 months ago. We really have been living on the road. It’s definitely time for a home, at least for a week.

Life here in Mendoza is great. You can drink the water, eat the food and the prices of everything are a bargain. This could be the place that we return to someday. Well, no sense dreaming about things that far in our futures. We still have 10,000 Kilometers (6,000 miles +-) before we’re even back to the reality of home.

Checked in with Internet and sent messages to both Horatio, the Attorney from Berkeley and Adriano, the guy who helped us find our way around Santiago the night we arrived there. Left our phone number and address in the hope that we can get together while we’re in town.

The only weakness we find in lifestyle here is the siesta hour and late dinners. Pablo’s, BiciService bicycle shop is closed from 1:00 to 5:00 PM. We took a taxi out and were going to mount the bags and ride back. Unfortunately one of the old tired screws that hold the rear bag rack on broke when Pablo pulled the wheel. The broken screw can’t be removed but he has two ideas. We can cut the rack but I didn’t like that one. So, we decided to get new screws and set the rack about an inch higher in the next set of holes. That means that we won’t be able to get the bikes until tomorrow.

Pablo called a taxi and we hauled the bags out to the sidewalk. The driver was friendly and helpful, even carried some of the bags and loaded the trunk and front seat. We’ve decided to replace our failing old helmets. Pablo has one helmet in stock and has ordered another. It didn’t come in so we have two reasons to come back tomorrow.

A home cooked meals, lunch and dinner along with BBC News and the fine wines of Mendoza, Life is great!

November 30, 2004
Ortopedia y BiciService

Breakfast is included in the very fair price of our new home. They serve juice, café con leche and media lunas at the nice Coffee House on the street below. The food, service and people watching is great. I have always wanted to live in a place with a Starbucks below where I’d sit and read the morning news. I have almost achieved another dream. It isn’t Starbucks but the coffee costs a lot less bucks. The Newspapers are free for the reading, unfortunately we don’t read Spanish. We settled into a barstool seat with window view. So, we sift through the papers picking up a word or part of a story as we people watch. The people watching is wonderful!

We strolled the block, getting acquainted with our neighborhood. It’s fairly upscale with nice shops and restaurants lining the streets.

For me, the keyboard and journal pages. Cat walked to CitiBank for money. Our already great rental rate gets 10% better if we pay cash. She brought picnic things back and we lunched in.

At 5:00 we taxied back to BiciService. Pablo had the bikes ready to roll but the helmet is still a no show. We cycled back home. We’re really getting to know Mendoza.

Argentineans, Soon To Be Canadians

A quick walk to our neighborhood Super Market yielded salad, steaks and veggies. Cat was in the midst of cookin’ when our doorbell rang. A young couple, Dario and Magdalena, had heard that we were from the States and wanted to introduce themselves. A bright young couple, he loves cycling and, they’re planning on a move to Canada and wanted to practice their English language skills. We chatted for a while then as dinner loomed we convinced them to call tomorrow and we’ll get together, maybe a bike ride?

Dinner was the best home cooked we’ve had since Rio. Another treat, we began watching a movie as we ate dinner and finished watching in the bedroom. Geez, two TVs, too. This is livin’.

December 1, 2004
Cat Haircut, Laundry, Adriano & Bella

Down for breakfast, we assumed our position at the window and were just getting into the coffee and news when a couple came in. He looked over and said, “Hello”. That started the conversation. Frank works with an Auto Dealer in Florida. His company puts together Used Car Shows all over the US. He commutes, 3 weeks on and 3 weeks off. His wife. Martha, is an Oral Surgeon here in Mendoza. They have just bought 2 investment Condos and a home that is under construction. Life here really looks good when we hear of bargains like this, they are paying $107,000 US Dollars for a 4,000 sq. ft. home in a fenced, security neighborhood!

I went back to the journal pages, determined to finish before we leave here. Cat walked to the ACA (Automovile Club Argentina) for maps of the Provencias to the north. The office is near the bus station, a long walk only to learn that they have none. They sent her to another office back in the Center, near our place. Along the route she picked up picnic things.

I shut down the computer and we took our lunch poolside. Yes, we have a wonderful swimming pool on the 4th floor. We sat on chase lounges, soaked up some sun and relaxed. What a life, eh? Our ultra white bodies could only handle an hour. It’s hot and windy but the pool is sheltered, only hot. We picked up my new insoles, they feel a little tight but the girl says that they’ll flatten out as I walk.

A Big Surprise then Dinner Out With Friends

More journalizing for me, I took a call from Dario in the late afternoon. We talked about taking a bike ride and I invited them to come over when he gets off work. He said 5:00 would be good. That surprised me because he had said that he works until 6:00 PM? Well, we were having a difficult time with languages. I suggested having Pizza together after our ride.

Cat got a haircut, her shortest yet and it looks very cute. When she returned we began to prepare for a bike ride. 5:00 PM came and went and the big hand slowly made full circle. At 6:00 the doorbell rang. What a huge surprise, it was Adriano and Bella. Now we worried that we had two guests, until we talked for a few minutes. Adriano said that he was confused when he called earlier, they don’t have bikes but would love to have Pizza or dinner with us.

What a laugh we all had. I was talking with Adriano and thinking Dario. No wonder he was confused. A glass of wine, good conversation and a look at some of our photos. They are really an interesting couple, remember we met them at the Omnibus Station and they helped us find a Hotel room in Santiago?. She’s from Seville, Spain and loved our photos of her hometown. She pointed out things to Adriano, he’s never been to Seville. They met because they share an interest in the Hopi Indians of Arizona. Adriano started writing a romantic novel based upon the Hopi’s. Bella is encouraging him to get back to work on it. She is in the midst of a Divorce. He has been for some time.

Adriano speaks good English and translates so that Bella can keep up with the conversation. He lived in Santa Barbara, California and worked at the University for 6 years. Cat discovered that Bella speaks French which led to them spending the evening chatting, exercising Cat’s ability.

We shelved the plan for Pizza and walked to Sarmiento Street for Chivito. Good food, good wine and now, good friends, too. During dinner Adriano told us about his work, he’s a Computer Programmer. He worked for Government for several years then took a position with the Vitriocultural Society. When times got bad they laid him off but he received severance pay. After scouting for work and getting lots of turndowns he used the money to open a Restaurant. Bad timing and he was out of biz in just over a year.

We walked past his old place on the way back home. Tough to make such a giant change but he seems to take it in stride. His philosophy is upbeat, he sees it not as failure but as a learning experience.

We never did hear from Dario and Magdelena?

December 2, 2004
Another Glorious Mendoza Day

Our regular window perch for breakfast, news in Spanish and a window full of Mendocinos going about their business. I continued the quest of completing the journal. Cat cooked lunch in then convinced me to take a break and get my haircut.

It was a short wait because of appointments but I finally got in to see the guy that had cut Cat’s hair. As I waited a regular appointment came in but was struggling with language. Marguerite is from Arizona but she and her husband have been living in Mexico for several years. They have now fallen in love with Mendoza and are buying a home here. She gave me her telephone number and invited us over for a glass of wine.

The stylist is an artist, he insisted on giving me a scissor cut when I suggested a number 3 buzz. He did nick my ear but I like the look of the hair. Cat scouted rental car offices while he cut. We want to see the area and visit some of the wineries. We called and invited Adriano and Bella to come along.

Expired License, New Chauffer

She came back and we walked to one that she thought was the best deal. They had no cars for tomorrow but sent us down the street to another dealer. They had a 4 door and a good rate but when I flipped out my Drivers License they politely refused, it has expired. So, Cat had to do the deal and will be the designated driver. So, even though I failed we are now ready to tour. They brought the car around, Cat checked all the numerous dents and dings then we were off. It’s only a few blocks to Millennium Towers but we had a tough time getting around the one-way streets and then into the garage. It’s 6 stories of parking, the guy at the gate told us to go to floor 3 and park in any space marked M T. Cat honed her skills driving up the narrow ramps, around blind curves and backing up to avoid oncoming cars. Then, on floor 3 we found all the M T slots were filled. We were preparing to drive back down when the attendant appeared and motioned us into a non-M T space. Whew, it’s been more than 1 ½ years since Cat’s been behind the wheel.

Back home, I called Marguerite and suggested that this evening would be our only possibility for having that glass of wine. She invited us over at 7:00 PM. We got ready and carried two of our favorite bottles of Chardonnay, Latitud 33 and Haroralds.

What an interesting couple. They’re in their 80s, retired and full of life. C. W. owned several businesses in Indiana then later in Arizona. They bought a home in Mexico and have lived there for several years. On an exploratory trip here 4 years ago they fell in love with Mendoza and Argentina. They love Mexico but admit that life there is more difficult. Dealing with the food, water and social issues can be trying. This place is a lot like Arizona except the price of living is at least 50 to 60% less.

Charles, their 20-year-old Grandson, is living here and attending University. He came to visit them last year and decided to stay. A nice young guy, he’s scheduled a trek up Aconcagua and is friends with some Geologists who have sort of taken him under their wings. They use satellite imaging to assist in their search for minerals. Pretty interesting stuff. We enjoyed every minute of the evening, even overstayed our visit. It was almost 10:00 PM by the time we pulled ourselves away. Oh, and we’d gone through our contribution and a couple of their favorite bottles, too.

Starving, we found plenty of places open at this hour for dinner but sitting for another hour or more didn’t excite us. There it was, the Golden Arches, a MacDonald’s dinner. Cat was pretty disappointed at first then we discovered that they have some items we’ve never seen before. A great chicken salad and two Pita sandwiches. Loaded up with goodies and fries, we gorged on the goodies while watching BBC and News. A good ending to another great Mendoza day.

December 3, 2004
Wine Tour with Adriano and Bella

It’s not easy to wake up early, as though we’re on vacation. We’re scheduled to meet Adriano and Bella at 9:30 AM. Coffee and toast down then we were off to the Correo. (Post Office) Cat has jammed most of our winter cloths along with brochures, city maps and back up CDs into a box.

Post Offices worldwide share one common feature, when you go there be prepared to stand in line. Of course since we’re mailing International, we have 2 lines to endure. The first was a sit and wait. Cat was impatient and wanted to wrap the box but I convinced her that they’d want to see the contents before approving them. Our turn came, the man in blue rifled through then stamped the paperwork. They then had us wrap with the brown paper while still in their control. Nobody is going to slip one in on them! Next, around the corner and an even longer line. The only difference in this line and one at home is, they allow smoking here. The fellow behind us was a chain kind of guy.

Finally, postage applied and addresses rechecked, the parcel was off to Dana Point, CA and we were off on the run. It was 9:50, we were late. I had left a message for Adriano that we had to get the package mailed and asked them to meet us in the Café. They were there, sipping on café con leche.

After dropping the tape and scissors we tried to get to the parking garage in the elevator near the Pool. It wasn’t working. At ground floor the Doorman told us that we’d have to go down stairs then climb back up to floor 3. Cat did the duty as we waited.

First Stop, Parque San Martin

All aboard, we’re off. We’d seen Parque San Martin when we dined at Jesus Maria Parrilla but it was dark and we just cut the corner. Adriano was an excellent guide. We cruised the tree-lined streets, stopped for photos at interesting spots. A large memorial depicts the Airmail flights that originated in France. Remember, we met the pilots who were recreating the flights in Africa at Tan Tan Beach? The flights left Africa and crossed the Atlantic to South America. Dodged joggers and cyclists as they worked out and thought of Central Park in NYC. There is a lagoon, even a rowing club and Paddle Wheel River Boat. Then, to the top where stands a huge monument dedicated to “The Glory of the Andes” as well as a pretty good view.

San Francisco?

Another item on our list of places is the “Ruins of San Francisco”. Beginning in 1638 the Jesuits built a Church and other buildings on the site. The tour was time consuming and we were salivating, anxious to get to the wine tasting part of our day. There are several interesting things to learn as the guide takes you through the changes that occurred here over the centuries. The main building slowly sunk to the level of a slaughterhouse. Closed for several years, the area has been excavated and history exposed. Amazing, below street level are tow fountains, one on tope the other. The water carrying mud has raised the ground level more than 3 meters (10 feet) in the past 200 years. An earthquake shook the huge stones of the church down in 1782. Fairly ugly pipe scaffolding protects the remaining stacks.

We did meet a young couple, Florencia from Cordoba and Claudio who lives here in Mendoza. She lived in Colorado for 2 years, speaks great English and jumped in as our tour guide from time to time.

Wine, the Real Reason For The Ride!

Time has flown, we’re having a good time. Most of the Bodegas are fairly close to town. Lunch and a bottle of Chardonnay at a wonderful Restaurant. We sat outside, watched other tourists including a busload, come and go. A warm, sunny afternoon with friends. The food was like a taste of many local vegetables, olives, meats, sausage and cheeses. Time was getting away from us.

Bodega Rural is more than a winery tour. It’s a museum of wine production here in Mendoza. It’s overflowing with equipment from all eras of winemaking. Up to and including a cowhide used for grape stomping with a spout where its head once hung. Again, the tour took a long time. e finally bellied up to the bar and tasted. A trio, Hugh, Holli and James, all spoke English. Hugh was wearing a shirt that said, Pasadena Baseball. No not a fellow Californian but he did get the shirt from one. He’s from Colorado, Holli’s from Texas and James’s from England. They’re all here studying, today they’re studying wines.

Wine Tour

Our second stop was Bodega Familia Tomasco, a small family operation. Enrique, the Grandson of the Founders, took us on tour. He’s a handsome young guy and his family pride is obvious. We did see something unique, at least to us, before stainless steel cooling tanks they had tanks of masonry. Of course we tasted here, too.

Time was fleeting, we stopped at what was at one time the largest winery in Argentina. Two Swiss partners founded bodega La Colina de Oro, Hill of Gold, in 1896. They did well and prospered for a long time then came the differences and difficulties. It finally broke them and the Government took over for back taxes. At it’s zenith they employed 3,400. They operate, a Co-Op, at only 10% of capacity. Most of the huge oak tanks are filled with water to preserve them and it takes only 15 workers to get the job done, now. We rolled in at a bedtime, they were preparing for a wedding and hated to break away to provide a tour. The girl was nice and the tour brief, we appreciated that. The wine we tasted was only so-so, at best.

The rental car was due to turn into a pumpkin or at least a very expensive one day item if we didn’t get it back by 8:00 PM. Just under the wire, we checked in, checked out the old dings and assured them that there were no new. The 4 of us walked together for 4 blocks then we did the hugs and cheek kisses. Adriano and Bella boarded a streetcar and we walked toward our apartment. Dinner, we picked up a chicken and scalloped potatoes. It went well with our last glass of Chardonnay of the day.

December 4, 2004
Readying For the Road

Breakfast in our window seat and the continued joy of the passing Mendocinos. The rest of the day was committed, mine to the journal and Cat’s to getting us organized and ready to roll. She completely unpacked and repacked every bag.

Adriano and Bella stopped in. They’d made us a copy of what he called Inca Music, Pan Flutes and Guitars. They both have a connection with Native Americans and this was a meaningful gift. E too had an offering for friends, we put all the pictures of the past few days and some of other places we’ve visited including Seville, on a CD for them. Bella is leaving, going back home to Seville on Tuesday.

Pablo stopped by with my new helmet. We had given up and were ready to ride with my old broken bucket. He is such a nice guy, we’re having trouble with the computer. Adriano had spent time trying to solve the problem but gave us as they had a luncheon date. Pablo sat down and went through the system then called a Tech friend and walked through the problems with him. All to no avail, we’re either stuck in two language programs or the keyboard is stuck, or both. He took the old helmet and will mail it home for us.

Time to carb up, Cat prepared pasta with chicken and veggies.

Sunday, December 5, 2004
Mendoza to Media Agua
115 Kilometers

Up early, loaded up then down and a wait for breakfast. The Café is closed to business but open for Hotel guests on Sundays. Cat cooked scrambled eggs and crudo ham, a real power breakfast for our first day back on the road. Between our spells of Guff Guff, time for the side trip to Santiago and this past week in our penthouse, it’s been a long time since we saddled up and moved on.

Rather than struggle, we took the bikes down one at a time then followed with the bags. The Doorman was curious and helpful. The Café has opened so we left the bikes for him to guard and had our last media lunas and café con leche in our window seat. It was pretty boring, no passers by, the streets are dead.

Out the door, into a beautiful sunny day and into the city streets by 9:30 AM. A couple of ask, asks and we soon broke free, into the countryside. Warm weather and the wind at our backs, who could ask for anything more? We’ve seen posters promoting bike races. It seems to be a series of races and at a cross road we found ourselves surrounded by racers.

Turn  Here

The road runs flat and with the wind, we were flying. A stop for drinks at a small store then back into the fast track. Lunch, Empanadas that Cat had packed away in our bags. We sat in the shade of a tree and enjoyed the taste and sites of Argentina. The Sunday traffic was thin and courteous.

69er & Barren

The road is now lined with small farms, rural homes and trees, lots of trees. A well received change from all the dry. Barren desert we’ve known for so long. Our well-rested legs pushed hard and we made good time. By 4:30 PM we stopped for soft drinks. The woman there had only a 2-liter Pepsi, we bought. She gave us some good news, there’s a small Motel in Media Agua, just 10 Ks from here. So, no camping tonight. We gave the remaining Pepsi to her kids who had been hovering around and cycled on with a renewed spirit.

Media Agua is really just another of those proverbial “wide spots” in the road but this wide spot has a place to sleep attached to a small restaurant and service station. The room is just adequate but better than the tent. The shower was a dribble but better than no shower at all.

Dinner, a typical truck stop menu, mashed potatoes and steak, pretty darned good steak too.

We were tired, a good tired. It’s been months since we’ve ridden more than 100 Ks in a day.

December 6, 2004
Media Agua to San Juan
43 Kilometers

Bread and Water Breakfast, worse than the usual, the coffee was almost water and the bread was at least 3 days old. As we bumped down the stairs we ran into another cyclist, Jorge. He’s ridden from his home in Uspallata high on the mountain. His equipment is minimal. He had no bedroll and when we asked about where he sleeps he said something about his wife coming? Maybe she’s sagging for him?

Flat and hot is the best we can say about the ride today. Oh, we did get a kick out of a Shrine and small town next to it. Santa Barbara, the Shrine is next to the tiny Pueblo of Carpenteria. Carpenteria is a small coastal town just south of the wonderful city of Santa Barbara, just north of our home in Ventura. Memories of home! The lovely tail wind has dampered down and slowed us, that and the fatigue that is filling our legs. Even with those changes we still made good time and entered San Juan at 1:30 PM.

Carp & SB

Making our way through the busy streets, we asked and asked and finally found the Hotel recommended by Lonely Planet. Shock, they were fully booked. The guy told us about another just around the corner. I stood the guard while Cat took a look. She came back with her nose curled up, the place reminded her of a rundown retirement home. Onward, then as we rounded the corner on the street where our next prospective home, Hotel Alkazar lies, a guy, Francisco, stopped us and wanted to know where we’re from and where we’re headed. As we talked his friend, Andrea, walked up and joined the chat.

Francisco owns a just opened Hostel. We would have been tempted to follow him but the place is on the edge of town. He also teaches Salsa Dancing and Lectures on Ancient Eastern Philosophy. The best of it, he speaks great English. As we talked a fellow with a camera came up and asked for an interview. Francisco translated our story for the Reporter, we shook hands and promised to get together again, somewhere, someday then we pushed our bikes and tired bodies across the street.

Alkazar, the name, reminds us of places we visited in Spain. Though they advertise themselves as a 5 Star Hotel the price is right, 135 Pesos per night. As we discussed staying for a day off I talked with the Clerk and he discounted the rate to 108 Pesos. Wow, only $35 US per night. Well the 5 Star thing is questionable but the room is okay.

They have a subterranean garage and had us ride the automobile elevator down. The guard there promised that no one would touch the bikes. We off loaded our clothing and the computer then I lashed them to a sign. We went directly to the bar area and ordered sandwiches and Pomelo, the grapefruit soda.

I broke out the computer and began journalizing, Cat went to the Tourist Office to figure out how, when and where to get the bus to the Difunta Correa Shrine then shopped for food and wine.

We dined down, fish for the Cat and mustard steak for me. Pretty good. We were the only customers. BBC news then sleep.

December 7, 2004
R&R in San Juan

Our 6:30 AM wakeup call jerked us into the day. We need to get to the Bus Station by 8:00 to get tickets. Breakfast, a pretty good buffet, then off to the station in a Taxi at 7:30. Our concerns of missing the bus or not getting tickets were unfounded. The tickets cost 16 Pesos for both, only $5.33 US.

There were several locals on the half filled bus. We watched the ones carrying flowers or other gifts. The bus stops several times to drop off and pick up passengers. In just an hour we were in Vallecito and walking on the hallowed ground of Difunta.

Difunta, Saint or Myth?

Back during the civil wars here in the 1840s it is said that a woman named Deolinda Correa was following the army that her Husband had been conscripted into. She traveled on foot through the desert here with her baby in her arms. When she ran out of food and water it is said that she died here. When she was found the baby was still alive and nursing at her breast. We found no explanation for the name Difunta though it means, defunct.

Shunned by the Catholic Church, she is believed to be a person who had died but had the power to perform miracles or grant wishes. (One fellow who spoke English told us that though the Church doesn’t recognize her they never turn down cash donations made in her name. There must be plenty of those as almost 250,000 pilgrims descend upon the Shrine annually.)

There are 17 small Shrines, each dedicated to different types of gifts and wishes. They are covered with plaques thanking Difunta. Inside are items of thanks left for her. Models of houses are scattered about as thanks for helping the giver get a new home. License plates and pictures of cars are thanks by people who prayed for a new car. There are lots of old cars, even wrecked cars in a fenced area. Lonely Planet says that the Shrine began as just a simple cross on the hill in the 1940s. Definitely a strange and unusual place, definitely worth visiting.

Difunta Overview

Our moment of closeness with Difunta came when a guy pushed a bicycle into the receiving house for gifts. As he passed he said, “Hello Pat & Cat”. It was Jorge, the fellow we met in Media Agua. So this is where he was headed? He introduced his wife and two daughters then told us that he had made a promise to Difunta. Language and his need to get his sunburned face to shade and find food preempted our attempt to understand what he had promised or asked for.

Jorge's Promise

The bus departs at 11:30, we were back in town in an hour. We dined on ham and cheese, really good ham and cheese sandwiches at a small Internet Café while checking our e-mails.

I went to the garage and tried to change the setting of the rack that Pablo had moved when the screw broke. It is tight and my wrench wouldn’t break it loose. The Bellman, Marcello, told me of a Bicycle Shop and drew a map to help me find it. Good thing I had the map, I set off up the street, dodging in and out of traffic only to discover that I’d come the wrong direction. Backtracking, I got to the shop only to find that they don’t work on bikes. The clerk tried to explain something to me then gave up and motioned for me to follow. Pushing behind him we walked a block then into an alleyway. There were several guys working on bikes, it reminded me of the little roadside shops in Africa.

A young guy came to me and by using sign language he got the point. He had the tools and he knew what to do. The rear rack had to be moved back to facilitate my big feet. They strike the bags on each turn of the pedals. It took him 10 minutes or so to reschedule and he refused to take any payment. He did say that he uses Internet and would look at our site.

Our afternoon was a lazy lay around. We are tired, we just lay back on the bed and dozed. Our plan to go out for Pizza was dashed but the rest felt great. We dined down, again. They do have Pizza but it is like frozen crust baked in a regular oven.

Back to the bed, we watched most of a movie before zonking off.

December 8, 2004
San Juan to Campsite @ Tucunuco
110 Kilometers

The nice gal who serves asked if we wanted eggs. They made fried eggs with ham for us. That and the rest of the good buffet fueled us up for the log ride ahead.

It’s breezy this morning and often in our faces. The road is flat, traffic hectic getting out of town then it leveled off, too. There were several other cyclists on the road. More posters touting a Bicycle Race and these guys looked like they were headed to one. The road took a little up that caused heavy breathing and burning legs.

Another anomaly, a Hotel with hourly rates? It brought back memories of cycling in Japan. They call them “Love Hotels” there.

A deserted building, probably a Service Station/Store in days gone by became our lunch break. We’ve picked up a tail wind again and it’s cool. We had to break out our jackets while we ate.

Onward, flat and fast to the place where Cat’s map said that we’d find a Hosteria. The name is the same but the buildings now hose government offices. That is all there is out here. It is really desolate. We’re following an old Railroad track that at times hangs between places where the dirt has washed away. Another place showing on Cat’s map turns out to be a ghost town of rock buildings. A truck driver we talked with at the Government Offices told us that we’d find a place about 40 Kilometers further. We pushed on, being pushed by the friendly wind.

It was getting late and we were beginning to doubt the guy’s word when we came upon another cluster of stone buildings. We pulled off into the rocks then pushed across the abandoned tracks. These places were at one time the connecting stations of the Rail Road. I had an emergency need and just barely made it to the abandoned Stone Outhouse.

Tarantula

Squawkers

The wind calmed, we enjoyed calm warm evening as we set up camp. Then while cooking or rice it began to rain. Not a downpour but enough to wet the ground and give it a wonderful fresh smell. Lights out at 9:00 PM. We lay and listened to the spatter of raindrops as we dropped off to sleep.

December 9, 2004
Campsite @ Tucunuco to Jachal
46 Kilometers

The clouds were gone, we awoke to a bright sunny morn. The sun brought our bugs by the thousands. We sat in the shade and ate our cereal and bananas, swatting and cursing the little devils.

This morning’s road is a slow climb into a constant headwind. Off by 9:00 AM we pedaled hard and were in the streets of San Jose de Jachal by 12:30. ell, we turned the corner at the City Sign then rode a long way in the now warm sunshine. I stopped to take a picture of tow old trucks, lost balance and dropped the bike. Cat had ridden on, she was around the corner and out of sight. I had to hustle to catch up. We have a rule that we stay in visual at all times but she was so anxious to get to a bath and food that she lost track of me.

There are only 2 Hotels in Jachal. We looked at one then rode on to check out the other. It had less to offer but the gal did tell us of a place to find lunch. Nico’s turned out to be the only restaurant open for lunch in town. We parked the bikes in front of the window and took a seat. Service was slow, the place was busy. I found Pomelo in the refrigerator and we split a big bottle. The lunch was a matter of ordering something we know, pollo and papas. (Chicken and Fries.) I was so thirsty that I got another liter of the cold Pomelo.

Our Hotel choice, San Martin, is basic. Marcello, the owner, sits near the door and greets visitors. He is full of suggestions but could only speak English so most went over our heads.

Our toilette is one of those all in one deals where you straddle the toilet when you shower. The showerhead is gone so it’s just a spout of water but it felt good. Not hot so Cat suffered a bit but she said that it was better than camping. Unfortunately we flooded the room and some of the carpet outside the door.

Marcello pointed out the Internet Shop location and we walked in the hot afternoon sun only to find that all the machines were in use. The guy took our names and put us on a waiting list. He suggested coming back in an hour. The ACA Office and Service Station is a long walk on hot streets. We got there only to find that it was closed. Back to Internet and the noise of the games and thick smoky air. Amazing how many kids smoke here.

Restaurants here don’t open until 10:00 PM. We thought about the wait then asked if we could cook pasta in the little kitchen of the Hotel. They allowed and we had pasta in the room. Ate it directly from the pot, sitting on the bed, while we watched a movie.

December 10, 2004
The Circus in San Jose de Jachal
The Charlie Connection

Breakfast was coffee and toast. We didn’t even have bananas to supplement it. As we sipped a couple of guys came in and sat across from us. They spoke English, we couldn’t resist saying hello, which started a conversation and friendship. Jim and Jason are Geologists from Australia. We told them of meeting the young guy in Mendoza who has friends prospecting via satellite imaging. Almost in unison they said, “You must be talking about Charlie”! Remember when we met his Grandmother Marguerite then had wine and cheese with them? Another of those SMALL WORLD CONNECTIONS!

I checked out there motorcycles and GPS Systems. Jim said that they use the GPS often, when they park the pickup and head out on the bikes. He says that it would be embarrassing to loose your truck when you’re miles from nowhere. They’re great guys, we had fun doing a little video and taking pics. Jason even contributed “You Must Be Crazy” in Guinea Pigeon language.

Geologists

"You Must Be Crazy", Pigeon Guinea

We walked back to ACA and bought the map of Salta Provencia. Did we mention that the Circus is in town? It’s just down the street from the Station. I remembered days as a boy when my brother and I would work like dogs for the Clyde Beatty Circus just to get a free ticket. The work was tough, dirty and great fun. We got to meet the performers as they helped hoist the Big Top. Cat can’t remember ever going to one, we decided that we must go.

I hit the computer and journal pages, Cat went back to Internet then picked up Chicken and Fries on the way back. We ate in the breakfast room and watched a movie about the struggles of a gay man who was married and had a family before he finally gave in to his desires. Quite a mess for him and the family.

I went back to the journal pages, Cat watched movies all afternoon. All stores are closed for siesta from 1:00 to 5:30 PM. While we were at ACA we asked the little restaurant across the street if we could dine at 8:00 so we could get to the Circus. They agreed.

I finished the journal entries at 7:00 and went to the Internet to e-mail the pages to Wally. The place was deserted, the server was down, no wonder.

We took sidewalk seats at 8:30 and watched the comings and goings as most of the town prepared for a night at the Circus. Very good salad and steak with papas fritas but they didn’t hit the table until 9:00 PM.

The Circus only starts selling tickets at 8:30. We got in line at 9:30 and were finally in our seats at 10:00. The show that was to start at 10:00 became a hand clapping, whistling, shouting and complaining feat until 11:00 then the clowns hit the center ring of the Big Top. Kids love clowns, adults do, too. They speak in an internationally known language that filled the Big Top with laughter. Funny, the audience is divided into classes. Our cheap seats are white, the next step up are red. A sign threatens expulsion if you move fro white to red. Most of the white seats are full, the red empty?

They had some trapeze acts that were pretty good. I particularly wanted to see the motorcycle in the big ball but we gave in to heavy eyelids at midnight.

December 11, 2004
Jachal to Campsite 399Km
77 Kilometers

Breakfast, we were a little disappointed, Jim was there and told us that Charlie wouldn’t be in until this evening. We’d hoped to see him and close the link on this unique, small world scenario. Jason was sleeping off the night of dancing at the Disco. We had a quiet breakfast then I walked to the Internet Shop and sent the completed version of our Esquel to Mendoza journal pages.

Café con Leche To Go

Loaded and out front, I tried to chat with Marcello but lost to language problems. What a nice guy, he was saying something about coffee but I just had to shrug and say, “No Comprende”! He looked perplexed then walked away, down the sidewalk. I got the bikes ready while Cat paid the bill. Marcello came back with a big can of Nestles Instant Café con Leche and handed it to me. What a nice gesture, he had been trying to say that we could take coffee with us. As much as we appreciated his kindness we had to graciously say no. He understood when I showed him that we had no room for the big can in our Bolsas. (Bags) He smiled, shook my hand and walked away again, to return it for a refund.

It was 10:00 AM by the time we hit the road. We were both full of Circus fatigue. Back to the ACA Station then left past the Big Top and onto the open road. There’s a crossroad and a choice to make, no signs. We asked and a young guy pointed straight ahead. We rode but began to question the route. Another ask and again, the same answer but we were still dubious? Then a man on bicycle coming toward us gave a precise answer, ahead to the fork where the big Gaucho Estatue stands then to the dereche, the right and onto the Ripio. (Dirt Road)

We knew of the dirt road and the pass, Cuesta de Huaco. We didn’t know that it would be so tough to ride and such a hot day. It became a push to the top, a photo of the ever-expanding view below and a pouring of water on our heads and down our shirts as a cool down.

A cautious downhill and it was time for lunch. Two huge eucalyptus trees at a tiny finca provided shade. Eating our sandwiches under the gaze of the farm workers, we tried to talk with them but they just smiled, waved and went about their work. They live in an adobe hut and seem proud of their little patch of earth. It seems to provide the necessities of life for them.

Onward, an imposing mountain ahead began to worry us. It looked like it would be a tough climb. Below, a dam held back water that forms a small lake in this very dry place. Then the sign indicating a tunnel brought relief and the shade inside was a relief from the hot sun. We have been pushing almost as much as we’ve ridden.

On an uphill push a car pulled over above us, the guy got out and took a picture of our effort. Klaus and Katja are from Germany on a 3-week vacation. Horace, the other fellow in the car, got out and sat in the shade of a bush on an empty plastic bottle. He, Horace the Hitchhiker, is from Bolivia. Klaus and Katja had picked him up and somehow helped him cross the border without papers? He has been unemployed an is here to find work. We began to think that his only possession was the bottle he sat on? It made us wonder what cycling in Bolivia will be? We’ve heard that the country is a lot poorer than Argentina. Hope we haven’t been spoiled here?

Klaus warned us that we had 3 Ks more of loose dirt and rock and up, up, up. He was right, it was a tough push then, Mirador de Huaco. The panorama was even better than Klaus and Katja had described. The hills of green, red and gold and below, in the bottom of the canyon, Rio de Huaco, shining in the bright sun.

Though the ride down was treacherous, we did ride. The loose dirt, rocks and big drop off to the left kept us hugging the uphill side of the road. At the bridge we leaned the bikes on a tree, took off our cycling jerseys and dipped them in the cool refreshing water. Just sitting there with the wet shirts on our heads and cool water dripping down our foreheads and backs. So refreshing that we had a hard time pulling away, getting on the bikes and heading out into the hot sun, again.

Tired and thirsting for a cold drink, we pulled into the Huaco Political Checkpoint. The guard waved us through but we stopped and asked if there was a Kiosk ahead. He indicated that we could find one about 2 Ks off to the right, toward Huaco. Hating to add extra mileage we talked then decided that we’d better find cold drinks and more water. As we rode we talked about just staying here if there is a Hosteria. The little Pueblo is noted for having a Flour Mill built before the turn of the 20th Century. The Kiosk was closed, we went on toward town then saw a sign for Bebidas, drinks. It was a meat shop but they had soft drinks and cold water.

We took a seat under a tree and sipped a liter of ice cold Pepsi. The young boy there, Franco, told us that there is no Hosteria or any place to stay in Huaco. We took his word rather than riding the additional 5 Ks to find out.

Turning back, we rounded the corner at the Checkpoint, the Guard waved and we rejoiced as we hit the asphalto. We’d decided to ride another 20 Ks or so then find a campsite. The road was a long slow up lined with workers chopping back the brush. A crew with a backhoe and dozer were clearing and widening the shoulder. One of the guys ran out to us and offered agua. (Water) What nice people but then, this is an almost inhospitable environment where people look out for other people.

There is nothing that even looks like a place to campout here. The bushes are low, any trees stand a long way off the road. It is really hot and we are weakening. At last, the worst possible place to camp was the best we could do. A tree at the edge of a dry wash and a path cut by the dozer led us to the embankment. Sitting, reviewing our options, we decided that rain was improbable so we began unloading and pitching the tent on a place under the tree with the least rocks.

We were absolutely exhausted. It was hard work getting our campsite set and cooking rice to combine with our left over chicken. The food was good and brought energy back. The wine was fine and dulled the pain in our legs and backs.

Our tent is visible to traffic coming from the north for a few seconds but there is little or no traffic. The oppressive heat hung heavily in the evening air. This would be the first time we’ve slept without the rain fly. Dinner was delicious, the night sky was clear and it began to cool. A thousand stars stared down on us as we drifted off to sleep.

Sunday, December 12, 2004
Campsite 399 Km to Villa Union
76 Kilometers

Easy to get up early when the sun starts peaking into the open top tent at 5:30 AM. We had cereal pulled down the camp, loaded the bags and were on the road at record early time, 8:20.The wind has picked up but it’s going with us. The road is flat with small rolly pollies.

Both still tired and weak, we pedaled non-stop 36 Ks to Guandacol in just 2 hours. Well, Guandacol is off the road to the left but there is a YPF Service Station that has limited food, soft drinks and Popsicles. We pulled in and I ate 4 Popsicles while we waited for our Ham, Egg and Cheese sandwiches. Then we drank 3 liters of Gatorade and wolfed them down. A fresh round of cool mineral water in our bottles and we hit the road toward Villa Union.

Out the door and off to the right, the helpful wind now became unfriendly. It was hot and into our faces and the road took a turn for the up. I began to experience an exaggerated heart rate. Uncomfortable, I found a small tree, lay both bikes down on their sides and we huddled in the shade. I lay back on the ground and relaxed for more than half an hour. Feeling less fatigued, we set off up and into the heat, again.

La Chilca is a blivet on our maps. As we passed the City sign we could only see two houses, one was boarded up, the other a typical adobe. We pulled down, under a tree and next to a little stream of water coming from a pipe. I got the bikes propped up as a fellow, Palacio, came out to greet us. He led Cat back across the highway and showed her what he called good water. Cat went first while I stood guard. She did the jersey off, water-soaking thing again then came back. I almost hated to leave the shade but Cat assured me that the water was cool and worth it. She was right. I had to sort of lay on the ground and lower myself into the hole but the gusher of water was cool and refreshing.

Back in the shade, Palacio assured us that we were at he Paso, the highpoint and it would be down from here to Villa Union. He was almost right, we did have a few little ups but the 10 k coast down was almost as refreshing as the water pipe cool down.

There’s a stand of trees and an ACA Station at the bottom of the hill. Villa Union lies 3 Ks to the left. We pulled in and had soft drinks then talked with some fellow travelers. Ruben and Hugo are brothers, Tomas and Grace, husband and wife. They’re all from Buenos Aires, driving 4WDs and heading out cross-country into the Parque National Talampaya and Valle de Luna. They’ve been traveling together for several years. Tomas and Grace speak English, he said that he learned his from the Irish Brothers at Catholic School.

The first Hotel we tried had no place to keep the bikes. They wanted us to leave them in the courtyard. It was 4:00 PM by the time we found Hotel Central. Nice room and we could take the bike in but, the bad news, all rooms are upstairs. I felt too tired to push them up or to unload and carry all the bags. The Clerk was anxious to have us for 2 days, he volunteered to carry and we let him.

The room is pretty small for the 2 of us and 2 bikes. The bath is another all in one and water goes in every direction and floods the floor but the good news, the air conditioning works great! Cat shivered through a cold to cool shower, I got it hot because they finally turned the heater on at 6:30 PM.

What is described as the best restaurant in town opens at 8:00. Their wine supply lacked blanco (white). The owner went shopping for Chardonnay, we ordered, chicken for Cat and Chivito for me. Geez I love those little goats. The wine was warm but they iced it, the food was great and the people working there, gracious.

We met a couple, the only other patrons, Juan and Maria. They too are driving through the National Parks and live in Bs As. She’s a Nurse and speaks English, he’s a retired Pharmacist. Between the food and friends it became the perfect end to a tough day.

December 13, 2004
A Day in Villa Union
Brother Bob’s 59th BD

Hotel Central is cheap partly because they don’t offer Desayuno (Breakfast). There is a little place down the street so we walked. The lady was less than cordial, the place was full of flies and the coffee was the kind that is made with a teabag full of coffee. We asked for another bag to strengthen it but she told us that she had no more? The best of the morning was when Juan and Maria came in. We chatted with them while the lady served them the same weak coffee with bags she said she didn’t have? v Olivier, Another French Cyclist

Back at the Hotel, there was an unattended bike loaded with bags sitting out front. I stood guard over it while Cat went inside searching for the rider. The Clerk pointed to a door, Cat knocked and Olivier opened the door. He had come in late last night. He’s from France and cycling alone. His route has brought him down the same corridor we are moving northward on. He started in Ecuador, through Peru and Bolivia and will ride to Ushuaia. He knew of Ruta Cuarenta and told us that he has decided to ride Ruta Tres. A good move since he has limited time. He is going to go over into Chile then down and back in to Argentina at Bariloche. He speaks great English and we three enjoyed the conversation so much that we began to worry about time. He seems to go, no matter time or distance. He loves his tent and camping. We were worried about the heat and the climb. Parting was slow and almost emotional. It’s so good to talk with those who understand the pains and joys of cycle touring.

I worked on pictures while Cat went on a frustrating visit to the Correo (Post Office). Her attempt to mail CDs home was thwarted by the lack of an Aduana. The guy called regional center but no one there could tell him how to so he refused. The Boss was out to lunch. This, like most other Postal systems in the world, is a great deal like our own beloved US Postal Service.

A 2 Peso taxi ride to the YPF Service Station and hamburgers for lunch. We really wanted to check on whether we could get breakfast here, tomorrow. The burgers were okay and yes, they open at 7:30 AM. So, we’ll cycle out here, eat then leave in the morning.

I continued my posting of pictures, Cat washed our dirty pots, pans and water bottles. We just lounged around, lay on the bed watching TV and dozed a little as the afternoon past.

Dinner back at our favorite Restaurant, the only one we know of, La Palmera, for dinner. Great steaks, potatoes and veggies. They even had a cold bottle of the local Chardonnay for us.

The square is across from La Palmera and the Tourist Office is on the other side. We walked over and talked with the girl but she had little info for us. They are a travel company and she only wanted to sell us a tour.

Early to bed, dreams of dirt roads and hot weather or should we say, nightmares?

December 14, 2004
Villa Union to Cuesta de Miranda
60 Kilometers

Up early, bags packed and I took the bikes down the steep stairs, one at a time. The air is crisp and fresh but we know that it won’t last. A nice ride to the YPF and a little disappointment. The girl yesterday told us that they’d have eggs. They had neither she nor eggs so our breakfast was yogurt, bananas and media lunas with good strong coffee. A refill of our plastic bottle using 3 half-liter bottles of Gatorade. We’ve begun doing this for ease of carrying as compared to the small glass bottles. We topped off our water and were out the door by 9:00 AM.

Back the 3 Ks to Ruta 40 then left and into an uphill pull for 25 Kilometers then the asphalto crumbled and we were on dirt, again. In a little cluster of houses we stopped and asked about a Kiosk. The young kids pointed to a house. A girl answered the door and nodded affirmatively, disappeared and returned with a 2-liter bottle of Orange Drink. Sitting on a cement walkway in the shade we drank and watched the chickens try to scratch out a living. Cat asked and then we wet our jerseys down with a hose they were using to fill a big barrel. Cooled down and full of Orange Drink, Cat called the young girl over and handed her the half bottle that remained. The girl was all smiles.

Onward, upward and pushing as much or more than cycling on the dirt and rock. The landscape here is beautiful, the cactus huge. We have saguaro cactus in Arizona, these must be a larger cousin. And, the colors, mostly red rocks accented with swatches of greens, yellows and browns.

Lunch in the shade of a couple of large eucalyptus trees, facing a tiny cornfield. A couple of cars passed and honked as we ate. A yellow jacket flew up then around Cat’s face. That caused a real dance and desire to get moving.

The Lonely Planet says that there are 800 curves in this road, we believe them. We were almost sorry that we missed El Valle de la Luna but these rock formations are as spectacular as any we’ve seen. The pictures should speak for themselves but it’s hard to get the feeling of immense grandeur from small photos.

Another stop for drinks at Los Palacinos, a tiny Pueblo. The place is called Felipe’s and Felipe himself sold us the sodas then let us hose down out front. We thought he told us that we still have 9 kilometers to go. More struggling and a lot more pushing for 3 hours. This was 9 Ks from Felipe’s and it we now got his meaning. This is where the road really gets steep, we could see it clinging to the cliffs above then disappearing into a cut at the summit.

v

I felt that we should camp somewhere nearby and make the final assault in the morning. Don't Give Up Cat was so anxious to get to the top that her vote was to press on. I pointed out the fact that there would be no turning back once we start and no place to stop and camp. After a little soul searching we decided to check a tree up the road for a potential campsite. It took a little work to get the bikes down, off the road and into the gully. After we made it we sat and rested our weary bodies. Legs Say No

Setting up required scooping the horse manure and rocks away. Getting the tent up was a very slow process. Though we’re behind a tree, we’re still really close to the road. We can see the cut above us at the top of the hill from camp. Not only tired but now stiff and sore, we are both glad that we can sit, drink a glass of wine and relax.

Cat’s famous Pasta with Soup Mix for dinner, which tasted great and filled a real void left by all the exertion. It was warm, we again slept without the rain fly. A sky full of stars and 2 tired cyclists. Sleep came easily. 

December 15, 2004
Cuesta de Miranda to Chilecito
57 Kilometers
Down and Dirty

An early wake up but we moved in slow motion. Breakfast cereal then folding up the campsite took a lot of energy. As we struggled a caravan of 4WD vehicles came roaring past. They were spaced about a quarter kilometer apart, probably due to the visibility problem their dust created. It still hung heavily in the air when we finally got the bikes onto the road and loaded.

The ride up was steep but we were able to cycle most of it. Cars and trucks honk as they pass through the cut, we could see why. It’s a blind corner and we were a little disappointed to see more up when we rounded it. A long sweeping upward curve then we crested Cuesta de Miranda. The sign is missing some numbers but it’s clear that we’re at 2020 meters. (6,666 feet) There are a couple of little shrines and an old house. Cat said, “Sort of anticlimactic”!

The view does go on forever but it too is sort of less than spectacular. Yesterday’s scenery may have spoiled us? The left side of the road was a sheer drop off, often. Riding down steep, clutching the brakes, we were pleasantly surprised to hit asphalto in just 9 kilometers.

 Bumps to View

A quick stop at a small kiosk, the nice lady had only soft drinks. She served us then turned on the TV and sat eating and praying. We chugged down the drinks and got back to business. The asphalto is in good shape and the downhill delicious. We were in Nonogasto, about 30 Ks, in just an hour and a half.

A stop at the YPF for soft drinks and Popsicles. There were a couple of guys there with backpacks. Juan and Juan have been trekking in the mountains and are hitchhiking back to Buenos Aires. The taller Juan is planning a hitchhiking trip around the world with his girlfriend. He has even put together a web site dedicated to Hitchhiking in Argentina. Check it out at www.AutoStopArgentina.com.ar.

The ride to Chilecito is a pretty good uphill but we had a wonderful wind at our backs and the riding was fairly easy if with our worn out bodies. The Tourist Office is just before a bridge and the City. They were very helpful. One of the Hotel looked great but is out of town. We decided on the ACA, which is near the Plaza and has very low prices according to the girls.

They didn’t have a room, we almost panicked then the nice clerk told us that we’d have to wait until 5:00 PM when a gal here on business would vacate. He had us pull the bikes into the lobby and leave them next to his desk. We went right into the restaurant and had lunch, we were starving by now.

A walk to the Internet Shop and the joy of messages from you, our reading friends filled the time. Back at 5:00, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the room was ready for us. Necessary bags off, we locked the bikes to a concrete room divider next to the desk and carried the bags up. Sorry, no CNN or BBC but they do have Air Conditioning and the already low rate of 48 Pesos was discounted to 32 due to our membership in AAA. Wow, that’s just $10.66. No wonder we love this Argentina!

Another wonderful thing, they start serving La Cena (dinner) at 8:00 PM. A little time for lounging and a glass of wine then down to dinner. Steak, potatoes and steamed veggies, great and priced at the same value as the room.

Though the AC is a noisy one, it didn’t take long for 2 tired road warriors to get to sleep.

December 16, 2004
A Day of Rest in Chilecito
Stephanie La Rae’s Birthday

The included breakfast is typical buffet style. As we ate a young couple across from us asked where we’re from. They, Raul and Nancy, are following a Car Show. He has a Renault that he shows in competition. They have a car full of trophies to prove that the car is a winner. Cat thinks that Nancy, who is cute and built, probably wears a thong and distracts the Judges? Raul used to race motorcycles until he went endo, you can see the scar on his knee if you look closely enough.

We walked to Internet then Cat went on to shop for lunch things and a few other essentials while I answered your messages. Thanks again for keeping us in mind.

Back at our ACA I worked the journal pages while Cat washed the pots, pans and water bottles, again. Then she took another frustrating trip to the Correo. Again, they didn’t know how to get the package of CDs to an Aduana so we’ll have to carry them onward with us.

Dinner down, again. The Pasta we chose to carb up on wasn’t as tasty as the steaks but then, when is it?

This evening we repacked the bags and prepared to hit the road, again.

December 17, 2004
Chilecito to Famatina
36 Kilometers

When we asked the guys told us that they could prepare ham and eggs to supplement the buffet. However when we tried to order Ramon, our friendly waiter told us that there was no Chef this morning. I jokingly told him that I could cook eggs and he accepted the challenge. The kitchen stove was hot and there’s a big pan of grease on the back burner. Ramon had already put too much grease in the small skillet and I broke 3 of the eggs before deciding that it was too crowded and greasy. So, a struggle with the three and I broke two of the yokes. Pouring off half the grease, part of one of the yokes went back into the big pot. Oh well, they do have a screen to pull big pieces back out with. The 3rd egg was a masterpiece.

As we began to push out a group of people headed into a meeting stopped and wanted to know what we were up to? They are journalists, here for a conference. A couple of them, from TV La Rioja began talking with us and ended up shooting an interview. Javier who speaks a few words of English worked hard to help but we struggled trying to speak enough Spanish to make sense. It was fun, who knows if they will ever get it on the air?

With the bikes outside, we did a little TV work of our own, you can see it on the little video here. Richardo, the Desk Clerk is also a cyclist. He has a really nice bike but was intrigued with ours. I convinced him to take Cat’s for a ride.

Richardo Rides

Through town then a wonderful 10 Kilometer down hill in stark desert. At the bottom of the swooping hill we started up and it was up the rest of the day. A climb from 1074 meters (3545 feet) to 1580 (5215 feet) at Famatina. Luckily, the ride is only 36 kilometers total. It was hot and slow but the flora began to change, from desert brown to green grass and leafy trees.

It was 2:00 PM when we pulled up at the Hosteria Famatina. A nice little place with a restaurant. Lunch, sandwiches and soft drinks then we checked in. The girl insisted on seeing our Passports. That’s rare so I questioned her as to why? Her story was a sad one but we understood her motive for collecting names and numbers. Just 2 years ago a 25-yea- old girl from Australia, cycling alone here, disappeared and was never seen or heard from again. Her family came and stayed here. They and the authorities searched far and wide without ever turning up a trace. If she hadn’t had the girls Passport number and correct name they wouldn’t have been able to locate her family.

They gave us a double room and we were able to keep the bikes in the adjoining with a door directly into ours. This really helps get in and out quickly, without having to unload bags.

Surprise, they do have an Internet Café here. It was full of young boys playing noisy games. The guys at the Foosball Table were in a very spirited game that created yelps and cheers. We just checked in but couldn’t answer our e-mails so we quickly and got out of there.

The walk to the Super Market was long and uphill. It’s still pretty hot even at this altitude. A bottle of wine and we circled back past the ACA Station searching for a map of Provincia Salta, to no avail.

Dinner at the Hosteria, Pizza and Ravioli with chicken. The food was cold and only fair but the owners, Nicholas and Oliva are really nice people. We were the only customers, it was early to eat and early to bed. There is no TV in the room. We did watch the news in Spanish. I tried my best to get the International News, Cat gave up and headed for bed. I followed shortly, still wondering what I’d seen?

December 18, 2004
Famatina to Pituil
67 Kilometers

Up early, packed then breakfast, the bread and water standard. A picture with Nicholas and Oliva and we pedaled away at 8:20 AM. The same hill we walked up to the Market was the beginning of a 20 K up. Pole, pole, as our Swahili pals would say.

The road runs along a river or creek. We can hear it rushing and gurgling but it is invisible to us. It does leave a wide swath of green, trees, grass and farms. The hills and mountains are barren.

At the summit it’s a steep, rush toward the desert below. The canyon is narrow, the result of another river. We pulled up under a tree and ate the sandwiches that Nicholas had packaged up for us.

The road levels a bit but continues down to the base of a mountain then takes a turn to the left. It’s hot! We wheeled into the Pueblo Pithuil (Pit-Wheel) at 2:30 PM. (We’ve begun calling the place “Pituie”.) Hot and dry, we found a little market and, amazingly, they had Gatorade. We guzzled 2 bottles sitting on the steps under the watchful eye of the woman shopkeeper and all others who came and went.

Onward and just a short way down the street a guy sitting inside a large, open window looked out when we pulled up. The place was well furnished and looked big enough to be a Bed & Breakfast. He sort of laughed when we asked and made it clear that this beautiful, casa grande es para mi familia. He did give us some good news though, there’s a Pension. He called it Lina’s then pointed and gave us directions.

A cruise around 2 sides of the Plaza then another stop to ask directions. The Policia were as specific and Spanish speaking as the Familia fellow. We took the turn he suggested and were soon back out of town. Backtracking, we asked another young guy. He pointed down the street and said, “Casa blanca”. The only white house we found was great looking and had a Directo TV dish on the roof. Hopes were dashed, the woman with babe in arms who answered the door pointed across the street. It wasn’t white, more a dirty brown, but it was shelter. A group of young people had walked up and entered as we talked with the gal across the street. Cat stayed with the bikes while I walked across and knocked.

A young girl, Yamila, answered looked me up and down then said, “Un momento para la Seniora” and disappeared back inside. La Seniora opened the door and did the same up and down look then said something that sounded like no rooms. She looked across the street at Cat in the sun and asked something. I responded, “Mi Esposa” then she shook her finger and sort of scolded me. She waved to Cat and waved for her to cross the street. Then, she had us push the bikes around the side of her house and leave them there. Then she indicated that we should sit and she’d fix a room for us.

She disappeared, Yamila’s stare drifted back and forth from us to the blaring little black and white TV. We had no idea what was going on then la Senora, Magdalina, came back and invited us to take a look at the room that she’d cleaned for us. It was small and dark, the falling apart toilet was adjacent, it did have a shower. After a short discussion we decided that it was this or the tent and this won out, just barely. Magdalina got the point across that everyone calls her Lina then again said something about later, en las tardes? (The afternoon)

The shower hangs over the toilet, so to speak. The good news, it was cool and wet. The room takes the afternoon sun directly on the window side and it is HOT. After the refreshing splash we just lay back and understood the joy of “Siesta”. Too hot to close the door, we were enjoyed visits from both of Lina’s dogs and Yamila. They all just stood and stared. We did attempt to have a conversation with Yamila. 

We dug out the bottle of wine on board and I took it to Lina. She let us keep it in the freezer. At 6:00 PM I went inside to retrieve it and found myself in the middle of a healing prayer. One of the guys who is staying here had his hand on Lina’s head. They both had their eyes closed and he was spewing Spanish, asking for descanso (rest) and bien salud (good health) for Lina. Yamila was sitting watching and smiling. Apparently she thought it was a funny show? When the session ended the Rev. turned, smiled at me and said “Adios”, picked up a backpack and exited with 2 other fellows.

It was so hot in the room that we sat on the patio, under a grapevine arbor, and sipped. The friendlier of the two dogs lay under our feet. Another woman, Rosa, came in and sort of helped Lina by sweeping a little and doing dishes. It turns out that she’s Yamila’s mother. Perhaps Lina watches Yamila during the day while Rosa works?

Rosa got the point across that we could move into the main house now that the others had gone. So, now we understood why the wait, while Lina cleaned the usually unused room and her comments about another room mas tardes (later). We didn’t want our 81 year old hostess to have to re-do the sheets etc. so we told Rosa that we would just stay in the annex room.

Tired of the heat, we decided to take a walk back into town, see if we can scare up a little food. As we locked the door Lina again made the suggestion that we change rooms. She had already changed the sheets and when we stepped inside the room it was at least 20 degrees cooler than our little hot box. Okay, we’re moving. It didn’t take long to shuffle the bags into our new home. There’s even a screen on the window and it’s in the shade of another grape arbor. The evening breeze was beginning to cool things even more. This was definitely a good move on our part, bless you Lina.

It’s tres cuadras (three blocks) back to the Plaza. It’s still muy calor (very hot) in the sun. We began a quest for Gatorade that ended because it was too hot and too far to walk all the way back to the little store we’d stopped at on the way into town. A banner hanging across the street at the Plaza marked the start of a run. Now, just before sundown runner were taking their marks. We got a photo of the women and young kids then walked in the shade to the only food in town.

5K Run

Sitting on the narrow porch of the Restaurant we ordered then watched the progress of the racers. The men galloped off in the final rays of the day. They thundered back across the finish line in record time. As we ate a woman, Adry, approached and told us that she works at a Hospedaje (small hotel) in Famatina and had seen us ride past this morning. Nice gal but again, the language problem.