9-14 

 

 

              We ride out of the busy city passing trees full of oranges and fruit trees blooming into rolling pasture lands.  Here it is early spring and bright green leaves dot the hill sides.  At about 28km we come across a paved road which turns to a single lane.  The sign says careful: winding road for 40 km.  This road (6m wide) took us up, up, up by twisting curves and switch backs through forests where the trees were choked with pink bromeliads, other trees blooming bright reddish orange in the dappled sun light.  We are cool in the shade, hot in the sun, wearing riding shorts and short sleeved shirts!  There is little traffic.  What we do encounter always gives us positive smiles and thumbs up.  The many mature couples in cars seem to be on vacation.  Car travel is a middle class luxury.  We have not seen local travelers since Ecuador and a few in Honduras. 

              Around a bend we pass a couple of families out taking pictures.  They stop and ask if they may take our picture.  Then the two families and children huddle up around Bici and bam – we are now part of the family vacation photos.  This has become a routine happening complete with the usual questions: “Where are you from?”  Where are you going?  How long on the road?  How old are you?  How much did the bike cost?”  We most always take the time to discuss our adventure.  Earlier in the morning we stopped to pick up some bread for lunch sandwiches and an older gentleman approached to find out what we were doing.  It happened he had a finca/farm down the road about 6km and invited us to stop by for refreshments.  Alas, we said thank you, but we had a very long day ahead of us so we pushed on.

              Further up the single track road, we heard a voice coming up behind us.  Another cyclist, a 60 year-old man who owns a bicycle shop in Salta, the city we are heading for.  In rapid and boisterous Spanish he tells us about the road ahead and about his shop, address, etc.  He accompanies us for about 3-4k then says “Ciao” and vanishes up the mountain.  We continue on up for 32 km over the top and down into a charming little village where we had our picnic lunch and got some really good tourist info and maps.  Then onto Salta where we passed through the city and found our way to the municipal campground.  Good hot showers after establishing our camp, then caught a taxi to the central park. 

              The park was packed jammed with the sounds of Catholic pilgrims who had walked into the city from their pueblos in the mountains – some more than a hundred kilometers away. They are all here to celebrate and give Thanks that a Christ figure found its way here in the 1600’s.  While sitting observing all of this we met Magdalena, a professor of Latin American and Women’s studies recently retired from Missouri U.  She returned to her birthplace and family after 38 years of teaching in the US.  She was delightful company and explained much about the fiesta we were observing, the local area, and Argentina in general.  Art struck up a conversation with a father and son at the next table who were traveling from Davis, California.  We learned of a good restaurant, arrived before 8pm and had to wait to order.  We ate too much wonderful food, drank too much fine Argentinean wine and staggered back to the tent by 10ish.

1. Looking down from the single track road 2. Back into bromeliads 3. Horses every where 4. Camp at the huge pool 5. Prosession 6. J & Magdalena

 

9-15

 

              In the morning, we woke to hangovers and an overcast sky.  The road rolled past the early spring growth; irises, red amaryllis, loads of blooming tees, bushes with wondrous sweet fragrances.  As we zoomed under trees, we spotted mud nests, twig nests, flocks of parrots and an assortment of other birds. We sailed past one gorgeous hacienda after another.  About half way, the vegetation returned to the thorn thickets we saw when we first entered the valley about five days ago. 

1. Food spread 2.Adobe casa

              Both of us, not 100% functional, needed to find a hostel or campground by 4ish!  We ask at the little pueblos – nothing here, nothing up the road.  On we trudge and see a hostel – but closed!  A few kilometers more and we see cabañas and posada.  This is a place on the “wine tasting” route – a stop for local, artesan-made goat cheese specialties, meats, wines and beers.  Yes, there is a cabaña – gorgeous adobes, just out of Wine & Country Magazine, landscaped around the four cabañas and pool.  The king sized bed, deep bath tub with an assortment of bath salts, creams, and soaps, huge picture windows, several sitting areas, inside and out, stocked fridge and great wine selection with dinner and breakfast included for about $50US.  This is expensive, but Hey! In five days we celebrate a year on the road and last night we camped for $3.  Why Not?

 

9-16 

              The road to Cafayate left our lovely posada, quickly turning to dry land covered with many prickly plants.  Then at about 10-15km the landscape began to display red colors and some interesting formations.  That was just the beginning as we entered the Quebrada (Gorge) de Cafayate.  Every turn displayed new rock formations, dramatic deep cuts in the gorge sides, many different plants and spring blooms, as well as different birds, and sights like the cliff house with hundreds of parrots.  Tourists took pictures of us all day as we made our way through almost 70km of this natural wonder.  As we neared Cafayate, the valley became extremely broad, its floor sand dunes interspersed with a tangle of plants.  I can’t imagine what this would look like when the plants are green and growing.

  

1. Desert up the canyon 2. J in slot canyon 3. Vineyards over Cafayate

            The village-pueblo of Cafayate is the center of a wine growing area.  Many vineyards open their doors to tours and tasting.  Several are close to town and we thought we’d hang out tomorrow and test a few.  Tonight we had Cabernet ice cream!

 

9-17

 

              The riding in Argentina has been delightfully warm, a lot of downhill since Bolivia (4000m down to 1100m) and even though we gained 600m yesterday along with many downhill areas, it seemed easy after riding in high altitudes for months, our bodies adjusted to working with little oxygen.  Now, that we are again in lower altitudes with loads of oxygen, our bodies are like bionic!

          
    This little wine area of Cafayate deserves a day of exploration.  It is Sunday and not a lot is open, but we are cooking a leisurely breakfast, doing laundry and some bike maintenance.  Then we will spin around these hills and taste wine.

 

1. Wine tasting

9-18

 

 
We are waiting for Nif, a New York cyclist who is touring Peru, Bolivia, Argentina, and Chile alone.  We are going to ride together for a few days until Nif takes off across the dirt roads.  On our cobbled wheels, we don’t dare.  We’ll stick to asphalt to Mendoza, Argentina.

 
             A beautiful morning at the campground.  Everyone courteously walks to the back of the lot and deposits their trash and garbage in the appropriate can.  All night long, the dogs work to redeposit the trash and garbage all over the campground.  Wouldn’t it be easier for the owners to put lids on the garbage cans, than pick up litter all day?

              Nif arrived around 9:30am, so we took off down the broad valley passing bodega tasting rooms: bright, clean and inviting, but not open yet.  These places are right out of the California wine areas.  We stop in a small pueblo to pick up soft drinks and morning snacks. As we are distracted, a local dog creeps up and lifts a leg on our back panniers.  This is the second time this week dogs have favored our pannier.  More sun screen and we are off with little or no traffic.  The scenery is desert grass, cactus and brush with high mountains following us in the distance on both sides. Hazy where you would expect clear.  We pass two men with a pole between them, slung from it a Puma who had obviously been hunted down and killed by the numerous dogs excitedly and anxiously milling about the carcass. Lunch is at roadside: tuna and avocado sandwiches.  Then a very long pull up hill across the valley to Amaicha del Valle and into the river campground.  Tents up, shower and we are off to visit the Cruz Museo of Geology.  WOW.  Cruz, the artist has decorated this huge complex in stone paintings, stone sculptures and welded figures for gates and over the top installation!

 

             Dinner in town was late: 8pm, after our internet sessions.  Good food and wine and then in bed by 10:30 for a good night’s sleep.

 

9-19

 

              Up at 7:30, cooked eggs with cheese, bread with honey, coffee and oranges.  Some mountains and desert but today we also faced a pass climb.  We started out going up from our campsite.  Thirty km. later - nothing but up and the last 8-10k with a 20mph cold head wind.  We topped the pass to be greeted by a bus full of tourists cheering, clapping and taking our pictures.  One couple came over to talk to us, gave us water and hugs with bravos.

1. Nif contemplates the pass 2. Nif tops pass

  
            Down we went: switch backs, cold winds, fog.  We stopped to put on our jackets, our hands and feet numb from the cold.  We could see our destination town way below us in the valley.  Horses on the road, dogs in chase, buses on the way up blinking their lights, drivers with thumbs up; zip, zip, zip we weave through the hair pin curves, brakes on, off, change legs, up then down, butt of the seat, we fly into the town and get directions to the campground.  Tonight we cook pasta, have wine and bread. It has been fun sharing with Nif. This was a very challenging day.

 

9-20

 

              Hopped on our bikes for a blissful 45 km downhill through an absolutely breathtaking canyon of hairpin curves, rushing river and sweet, sweet smelling plants.  From all the dry and arid we have passed into the lush and green.  We stop for lunch to eat the fresh bread, pancetta and delightful handmade cheese we bought this morning in Tafi (known for its cheese and cheese festival).  Then we spin out into a broad and flattish valley of sugar cane, strawberries, citrus groves complete with delicious aromas.  We ended our day in a hotel – basic, but with all amenities (hot water, TV, etc.).

1. Local flirts

 

Tonight Art is taking me to the best restaurant in town to celebrate our one year anniversary on the road.

 

 [GARY INTERVENES ON THE GREEN MACHINE:    THIS IS IT, FOLKS, A YEAR FROM WHEN THEY LEFT!  CONGRATS MAY BE SENT TO grnmach2@earthlink.net]

 

9-21

 

              Met Nif for breakfast in the hotel lobby at 8. We stop on the way out of town to purchase Argentina bike shirts and get air in Nif’s tire, then we mesh with the morning traffic weaving our way out to the highway.  Warm, blue skies and lots of traffic.  There are many sugar cane “trains” (a tractor or truck pulling three or four trailers loaded over the top with chopped or stalks of sugar cane).  This is not Cuba, machines harvest the cane here, not by hand as in Cuba.  The road shoulder is littered with flattened cane stalks and we bump, bump through seemingly endless piles of them 

We stop around 11 for our morning snack at a large Shell Oil station where we sit outside in the patio enclosure discussing tonight’s destination.  Nif is feeling her saddle sores and suggests that we have a short day and this ok by us.  La Cocha is the target. 

 

1. "airing up tyres" 2.Cane train 3. A & J in new Argentina shirts 4. camp in garden 5. dinner in the garden 6. climbing back up the Andes

Slight headwinds and some small grades slow us down. We average 10-11mph, rolling into town where we were told that the gas station had rooms and camping behind.  At the station a man we asked about accommodations said no rooms or camping, we had to travel down the road 29k.  Not liking his answer, we looked around finding rooms and plenty of space out back to camp. Inquiring further we were told we can camp in the garden houses!  We are in the Garden of Eden behind the gas station.  Yes, we could use the shower and restaurants that are just down the road for lunch.  We washed clothes, took hot showers, cleaned the bike, read, and napped between the flower beds.  Wonderful day!

 

9-22

 

              As soon as we bedded down, lights off, the loud music started in the park in town.  This went on until 3 or 4am.  It was warm and cozy in our tent, even, dare I say: Hot!

             

Morning came with roosters crowing next door and rays of sunshine poking into the tent.  A flat road through open fields of green on the left and mountain ridges on the right; bright pink, orange and yellow trees are scattered along our path; big disking machines pull out of the fields in front of us.  This is the land of large farms and machinery.  A crop dusting plane works the fields making low passes over the road.  We stop for a snack and soon Nif says she needs to catch a ride.  She is definitely not ok.  Judee helps her thumb a lift and in less than half an hour a tow truck pulls over and the driver heaves the loaded bike up behind the cab. Nif climbs in and waves good bye.  She will email her location in Catamarca where we will meet up tomorrow.

Judee rejoins me and we continue climbing up the first set of foothills of the Andes.  It is only a 16km climb but with a head wind it was a treat!  However, the views out over the vast edge of the pampas landscape was like looking out over a lake of tree islands through a heavy mist.  A BMW sputtered and popped and would pull off the road to rest and we would slide by.  They crested the top at about the same time as we and waved off down the mountain to the town of La Merced. We camped in the local municipal campground all by ourselves, arriving by 4pm. Tent up, cold showers done and dinner set out.  We are listening to relaxing Argentinean music piped over the campground, reading in the lovely shade with a gently breeze drying our towel and wash cloths.  Soon I (Art) slide up the road to the gas station to buy a liter of Negro Cervesa and we will dine on pasta! I had to ask the guys running the camp to Please turn down the music.  They put out large speakers and piped up the music soon after we got the tent up.  And for hours it bathed the campground.

 

9-23

 

              Surprise!  All the bathrooms and showers are locked tight this morning.  We pack up after breakfast and down the valley we fly.  We are in high desert again with lots of cactus, shrubs and thorn bushes and a little agriculture with very dry mountain ridges on both sides. Cool cloud cover and we wear sweaters all morning for the 60kms into Catamarca.  Caught up with Nif in town as she was crossing the street at about noon.  She is not feeling well at all and will catch a bus to La Rioja in two days to catch up with us.  We had lunch in the central square sitting at our outdoor restaurant watching the traffic circle the park, then off up the road 5km to the municipal campground.  This is a busy place with several groups celebrating Sunday.  It is almost hard to hear the parrots serenading us.  Goats scavenge the camp ground for goodies. 

1. cactus again 2. Lunch on the square 3. reading in camp

 

9-24

 

              Today we started off with a stiff breeze at our backs.  Some days it is good just to ride – the road is straight, the surface smooth and the only break in the scrubby, dessert vegetation are olive and fragrant orange groves.  Our destination is about 80km down the road.  We arrive there by 1:30pm and decide to try to make it to the next small town.  Well, there were no more small towns.  So we just kept peddling.  We arrived in La Rioja, tomorrow’s destination, 100 MILES for an average 13.3mph.  It was 7 pm by the time we found an appropriate hotel.  We were tired but very pleased with ourselves for riding our first 100 miler on this journey – fully loaded!  We will rest tomorrow as we await Nif’s arrival.