Mapuche Holy Ground - Volcan Lanin

The road back into Argentina was not unlike those traveled in Argentina, but there were certainly more forests. As expected, the Conguillio National Park was still closed, so it was back south and east for us. Right before the pass at Icalma, we saw the first of many lakes to come at the north of the Lake District. In a way, it reminded me a bit of Lake Tahoe with the deep blue water, cabins, and mountainous area. I just wish they had the roads like California does! The pass was only 3km, thank god. Those were 3km of steep ripio, which I didn't take too kindly too. However, 10 minutes of riding for 1km of distance isn't bad. Coming up, it really felt like I was in Cambodia/Laos/Vietnam with the hills that were surrounding us. You can see Joe creeping up just behind me. With my flyweight body and 20 few years of age, I climb a little faster than he does.

The Argentinians, I love them. Once again, people were waving and honking at us, and border guards really didn't care what we carried. Conversation is as follows: Passports...anything to declare? Nope. Ok, suerte! Gracias, ciao! We camped at Lago Alumine, which was so beautiful that Joe asked me in the morning if we really had to leave. Yes, that is my tent and bike at the lake front during sunset. Ah, life can be good sometimes.

The road from Villa Pehuenia to Alumine was a bit of asphalto, a bit of ripio, but mostly along a river valley that made for the most part a pleasant ride. It was only a 60km day or so, very pleasant. At one point while still near the lake, we passed by some guys butchering a cow on the side of the road! It's a common custom for the Argentinians to chill out over BBQ with a gigantic slab of meat, enough to feed an entire family. I didn't know, however, that they'd do the whole animal! Kidding, but when you have cows in such abundance that they sometimes even walk along the beach, why not!? Right?

The following day, Joe and I split up. Markus was still visiting with his cousins in Los Angeles, Chile, (as we had just learned), Aaron was a day or two ahead, and I wanted to push to the base of Volcano Lanin, where there was another national park. I took off and had a very long 130km day in front of me...

I made some good time on the asphalto, and the ripio wasn't too bad. I stopped when I saw a tandem bicycle parked on the side of the road, loaded with panniers. Where are the cyclists? I looked over and saw this woman calling out to me from high up in a tree! What is she doing there? Picking cherries, that's what. She and her husband were Germans biking from Ushuaia to Mendoza, exactly the leg that we're doing in the opposite direction. They gave me some cherries in exchange for information, and oh my god they were the most delicious and juiciest cherries I have ever put into my mouth. They mentioned some of the winds in Ushuaia region at one point reached 130kmph, which is about 80mph. Of course, for them, it was a headwind. Push the bike a few meters, rest, repeat. Usually they are more on the order of 50-60kmph if they are blowing. In any case, it will be a tailwind for us, so I'm excited!

After we parted ways, the ripio got bad, and the climb started. It was deceptive because every turn that I thought was the top turned out to be only one of the many, and long switchbacks I had to contend with. I really could not go more than 7-8kmph, much lower than my normal 10kmph uphill speed, or 15kmph ripio speed, or 20+kmph asphalto speed. It completely screwed up my day. When I was beginning to get frustrated, Jesus descended upon me with a motorcycle covered in stickers of Che Guevarra (sp?) and his boyfriend. He said there wasn't much more to the hill, so I pressed on reluctantly. He was right! But near the top, it started to rain. I pulled over and spent some more time on the side of the road, eating under a gigantic tree while waiting for the storm to pass. Maybe this 130km day wasn't the best idea...

The downhill was perhaps worse than the uphill. The ripio was UGLY. I fell while braking at one point, and again hurt my elbow and knee in the exact same spot as before! That really pissed me off, especially because I was preparing to take video to show everyone. I'll post it one of these days, perhaps when the internet connection is a little faster, just to give you an idea of what it was like going down. Think - not fun, at all.

Reaching the end of the ripio, I found the asphalto road and saw for the first time my target - Volcano Lanin. It was already around 7pm, with 2.5-3 hrs of daylight left, and 40km to cover. I was going to do it, it just looked too inviting. I pedaled in a race against time, rather race against the sun. Get to campsight before it descended. I took a small break to filter water at the river and clean my wounds, perhaps it wasn't the best choice. The time went by quickly as I got closer and closer. Finally, I approached the park entrance. A couple coming out stopped and asked if I needed water or food, and if I knew where I was going. Apparently, there was no campsight as I thought, and the ripio was as bad as it gets because of the serrucho conditions. Apparently the husband was a cyclist who participated in races, which would explain their kindness to me. They wished me luck, and I pressed on. I think I got about 4km into the park, with another 8 or 9 to go to the lake before I had to just stop and camp, illegally might I add. But, almost nobody was there, and I wasn't going to make a mess, so why not? My efforts were rewarded with an incredible sunset right behind Volcano Lanin, which attracted a local thunderstorm that night.

The morning ride out into the valley fog was stunning. I had set the alarm to be on the road before sunrise so I wouldn't get caught by any park agents, haha. It was cold and I had on between 2 and 4 layers, but absolutely worth the cost in sleep I gave up. I had only 60km to go before reaching Junin de Los Andes, where I would find Joe, and perhaps Aaron as well. The ride passed by quickly, and I was in town before noon. Just like on the 4K, time for A.M. ale! Try Quilmes beer if you ever get a chance, it's a treat! Right now, Joe is back at the hostel, Aaron went to Chile and will cut back to San Martin de Los Andes tomorrow (40km south), and Markus is still in Chile somewhere catching up to us. I am hungry, haha, so time to go!

C'Mon Chile, work with us here!

Our last day in Chos Malal was yet another worthy farewell for our trip. Victor had once again picked Aaron and I up along with his friend Nelson, and from town we drove up into the mountains to see the area, check out this little salmon farm, and visit his grandfather. It was funny because I was able to squeeze out a bit of a political discussion about the left-leaning governments down here in South America. Apparently, they send the incompetent Argentinian president out of the country as much as possible so the government can do its work! She is the wife of the former president, there's something to be said about these spousal presidencies...

So anyway, the road down to Las Lajas from Chos Malal was difficult mentally and physically, for me. For the first time in a few days, the four of us rode together. Markus, however, had cousins in Los Angeles, Chile, and so he parted after only 30 minutes or so of riding, before my woes began. The late start out of Chos Malal meant I had just eaten lunch right before the ride. Probably a combination of physical demands with the winds and climb, eating too much, and eating tuna (protein in a can, good before, but I bought the cheaper stuff this time), I felt sick for much of the day. We ended up camping off the side of the road, I had been in mental distress because there was no way to make it to the planned stopping point before sunset, and of course it rained that night. It always seems to rain when we camp in the middle of the desert.

Continuing on, I was happy to reach Las Lajas the following day because this is where we were told things got interesting. Before, there isn't much to mention because it's just a desert. Past Las Lajas, we would reach the Lake District of Chile/Argentina. I didn't feel like pushing on, so Joe and I stayed the night while Aaron continued on. However, the story of Las Lajas wouldn't be complete without mentioning the town drunk. For the first time, I was actually afraid something bad would happen. The drunk, though I could barely understand his slurred and heavily accented Spanish, approached Aaron and I who were lounging around in a park near the center of town, wanting to intimidate or really pick a fight. He said he wanted to hit and fight with Aaron, try to provoke him with little smacks in the arm. Aaron, in the meantime said 'Am I going to have to kick this guy in the face?' I don't have a picture because I didn't want to show the guy we had cameras, but in the end he took a liking to me and gave me a little necklace with a bullet on the end. In return, I gave him my backup lighter, reluctantly. He was replaced with a bunch of curious kids who started talking to us. I bought Tomas an ice cream cone because he said it was his 11th birthday. I gave his friend a little tune-up of his bicycle, adjusted the spoke tension to true his wheel. Later, some other teens started talking to us about the region. All in all, it was a reversal of fortunes as we had also a brand new little hosteria complete with shower, toilet, bidet, three beds up stairs with a brand new TV, and a full kitchen! It was the first time I slept in a bed since Mendoza, what a treat.

The following day, I wanted to go into Chile to visit the Parque Nacional Conguillio. This, if you remember, contains the Volcano Llaima which was featured in my first post because of the eruption 3 weeks ago. I couldn't get any information on whether or not the park was closed, so I took my chances anyway. If the park was closed, we would head south and take the next pass back into Argentina. The climb to Pino Hachado was long, but picturesque and I thoroughly enjoyed myself the entire time. Toward the top, the valley was absolutely incredible. I keep using these words, but really this one takes the cake so far. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, the funky looking tree I believe are called Arruancurias, though I think I have the Spanish spelling wrong, the English equivalent is monkey tree. From the border of Chile, or frontera in Espanol, it was possible to see the Volcano Llaima in the distance.

The border crossing into Chile was a bit of a hassle, comical too, though. Apparently, no plant or animal products are allowed from Argentina. I could say more, but it's not worth my time. Thankfully we had an hour before the border closed, which meant feast at customs! I had a monster sandwich of some salami-like meat, a huge block of cheese, a carrot, 2 or 3 bananas, 2 or 3 apples, and some raisins that Joe shared with me as he was doing the same thing. I threw some of the rest away, but not my jar of honey. Like hell if I was going to throw away the honey! (given to us by Victors grandfather) Everyone inside was ready to leave, so when they searched my bags and opened the jar of honey, the one doing the searching asks his colleague, 'is this honey?' No, he replied. Hah! I win, I keep my ARGENTINIAN honey. I'm sure he just didn't want to deal with the fine they would have slapped me with. Sorry, no pics of that, too busy eating...

We camped that night by a river just on the fringes of Liucura, Chile, by a river that had fish literally jumping out of it. It's much wetter in Chile, and so the region is like a world away with many deciduous trees and greener landscapes. That didn't matter much to us, rather as much as the ripio and grading of the road does matter. I forgot to mention, right before customs we had a huge 15km or so descent, a section of which (4km?) was under construction. They had stopped traffic on one side to let the other pass through. Unfortunately, they forgot about us two bikers coming down, so right at the end they sent up the line of cars and trucks in my direction with one lane to share!! I've got video of this, I'll post it sometime...

short updates/comments

So much has happened in the past few days, it really seems like Chos Malal is a distant memory right now. Before I forget, a few things that I believe I forgot to mention in the last posts.

Cat 1 = Stop for less than a minute, bathroom break and such, riders keep going
Cat 2 = Minor mishap, other riders slow down or take a water break
Cat 3 = This will take a little while, up to 10 minutes for a flat or a broken pannier in my case, usually solved with a ziptie (I love those things)
Cat 4 = Alright, let's find some shade, we're going to be here a while. This is a major repair such as a broken spoke or a fairly nasty crash, could take a long time to fix.
Cat 5 = We're hitching a ride to the nearest bike shop or hospital

Flies, they are to be feared. I don't know what kind of animal they've had practice on, but these things are aggressive, and they draw blood when they bite. I've had some of these little bastards follow me for over 1km on the bike! Neuquen is the province with the two largest dino museums in the world since so many fossils have been discovered here, so I'll assume these things are prehistoric and leave it at that.

Argentinians 2, Chileans 0 - Almost nobody waves to us on the Chilean side! I don't know what's going on, but the Argentinians definitely seemed to be more friendly and genuinely curious about the trip. Not only that, but the roads in Chile are steeper than the stock market fall right now! Despite the ripio and serrucho, I definitely prefer Argentinian roads and drivers.

The spork - I've got a little eating utensil that has a spoon on one end, and a fork on the other. It is made of plastic, or was I should say. Now I have a mini spoon and a mini fork made out of plastic. I pulled it out one day and found it had snapped in half, shit! Now it's as if I'm eating with my fingers, which have a permanent layer of grime caked in on some areas, at least until the trip is over. Oh well, at least I'll return with a stomach of steel. Note to self: metal over plastic, folding over stiff. Got it? Good.

We're getting close to the planned Chilean border crossing, so perhaps by the weekend we should be in Puerto Montt, Chile, for the Superbowl. Since I've slacked a bit, I'll retroactively (as has been done before) post about the last week or so.

Empieza Patagonia

Barrancas to Chos Malal -

Leaving Barrancas behind was not a hard decision. Aaron and I hauled our gear out of there at the crack of dawn when the roosters decided to compete for their morning solo routines. Rolling into Buta Ranquil was like emerging from night (Barrancas) into day. Coffee, pastries, refilled water, a toilet seat!! (first one in a week or so?), and satellite TV!! It refreshed me for the first of two major climbs ahead. It was a bit like going through Utah, and we had a tailwind! I couldn't be more happy with the riding. That is until I realized the climbing was to last for a few hours.I would often tell myself ok, 15 minutes to THAT crest. Nope, I give myself until 230pm to reach THAT crest. Try 3pm after it keeps going and going and going. I think around 4pm I finally made it to the lunch stop, which consisted of a tree that offered the only shade on public land for miles and miles. I say public land because of course any clump of trees that you see indicates a town or someone's house. I was able to spot Buta Ranquil from 5km out using trees as my marker. Anyway, lunch was great, and I decided to press on before Aaron with the tailwind and cloud coverage we had.
what basically was a 35km descent into Chos Malal. I really think it was the greatest descent I have ever done. Starting on the side of a mountain with an incredible dropoff, the road slowly curved down and down toward the valley and toward snow-capped mountains, then further down into this lush valley. By then, Aaron had caught up with me since I waited a bit at various points for pictures and such. The valley of Chos Malal is like the picture of paradise, sim We started from Lago Auquinco, and climbed a couple switchbacks to the top of this glorious hill. Aaron was 25min or so behind me, and in some of the pictures you can see him just starting the climb! Hahaha, I laugh because I had already been through the pain. We were rewarded withple as it is.Chos Malal is a laid-back place. It runs on Argentinian Standard time (everything closed from 2pm through 5 or 6pm). It is very windy too, when we came in through the residential section onto dirt roads, I had to stop a number of times and dismount my bike to wait out the winds whiping up the sand and dust around me. We ate pizza and drank beer at this one restaurant, and our waiter, Victor, said he would come hang out with us the next day! That camper below below is actually a Land Rover, belongs to a Swiss family riding around N. and S. America for a year. Since we had to wait for Joe and Markus to get here yet again, it was another day of rest. Victor showed up to grab me and Aaron and show us around town. Not only did he take us into the mountain region by car, he also bought us beer and food, introduced us to his grandmother who gave us bread with jam and this cherry liquor drink she made, and showed us his house as well where we met his father and saw his fantastic rally car. In short, Victor really made our day and summed up everything about how the Argentinians are treating us during this trip. I must say, I am quite content to wait another day since the other two are taking 4 days to make this trip that we did in 3.

The Land Before Time

Malargue to Barrancas -

If you remember that movie The Land Before Time with the little dinosaurs trying to find their parents after huge volcanic eruptions and other catastrophes seperate them? (that is, of course, if my memory serves me right) Well, it must have been shot here, because that's exactly the terrain that we passed through south of Malargue.

But first, the cursing and more ripio. Let me tell you, for a cyclist there is nothing worse than the scenario I am about to put forth. Imagine lugging 40kg of gear, not bad right? Well, now imagine the road is ripio (gravel), uphill, and there is a headwind in your face. I struggled for over an hour at 6-8kmph, and I thought back to the one foot in the first world, one foot in the third world quote. Well, at the time it was more like one foot in the first, and one foot along with both arms and the god damn head in a game of twister that was sitting in the third world. Yet once I got passed the top it was smooth sailing from there.
I'll let the pictures do most of the talking, but after the ripio ended it was either flat or downhill mostly, with a tailwind, and through a lush valley resting between mountains speckled with volcanos at times with the Rio Grande acting as the vessel through which life flows into everything living there. It was spectacular, and that's not to mention the friendliness yet again of the Argentinians. If I said 1 of 2 cars would wave or honk at us, I might be exaggerating. However, if I said 1 of 3 did so, then I would be selling the Argentinians short. Basically, it was a perfect ride.We ended up riding to the second stretch of ripio, 120km into the day, to where the Rio Grande passed under Ruta 40. Right at that point, the terrain changed to volcanic rock. Aaron and I found a little sandy spot next to the canyon that was carved by the river, cleared the rocks from the area, and set up camp. I found a way down to the river where we were able to filter water and bathe, it felt phenomenal after a dusty and long ride that we had. The stars that night couldn't have been better either. It was as good as it gets.The following morning was more of the same. Amazingly, we met another touring cyclist coming the other way!! We were 5 km into our ride, he was 9km into his. I really wished we could have camped at the same spot, but alas it wasn't meant to be. We passed a message to our colleagues, Joe and Markus, who would meet the biker (didn't quite catch his name! shame on me) later that day. He kept my spirits up for a while, until...I started to be plagued by gear problems. First, my helmet broke. It is still functional, but it is not as secure as before. Second, my sunglasses also broke at both arms. They stay on my head, but I take frequent Cat 1 breaks to fix it (explained below). Next, my panniers are failing at the point where they attach to the bicycle. Actually, one piece fell off, so I am holding it on with zipties. Then, my handlebars are not secured to the handlebar stem because the threads in the stem are stripped. The bolt goes through, so I was able to scavenge a nut from...my rear brake. Yes, handlebars and steering are more important than a rear brake at the moment! In short, things are going downhill just a bit, but not my spirits!!Neuquen is the province we crossed into today, and marks the official start of Patagonia! How exciting, but this also means nasty climbing ahead. The final climb into Barrancas was tough, my legs were completely shot, but we made it. The town was a big disappointment I must say. We were told supermarket, campground with running water, the works! What we got was a sleepy, dilapidated town nestled into the side of a mountain with ferral dogs running about, ripio (!!), a grocery store that rivals my kitchen, and a campground with a concrete shed that would later double as the outhouse (desperate times, desperate measures, and others came before me in there). This town was straight out of Legend of Zelda or something, seriously, I almost felt as though I could find an ocharina (sp?) or some treasure chest key if I started digging around the camp grounds amongst the chickens walking about. Whatever, it was the end of another beautiful day. Almost forgot, Aaron heard that night two people having sex on the picnic table next to ours. The dogs were howling just as loud as they were, but I didn't hear anything because I was too tired. Go figure.