Our route thus far! (ignore numbers at top – they are not correct)
A detailed map since Salta, Argentina:
Once again, I sip drip coffee as I sit at a shaded wooden table in a beautiful courtyard filled with fruit trees. It is quite the reprieve from our last week of riding through dry desert with intense heat and wind. Justin is crouched down on the other side of the courtyard, tinkering away on our bicycles, and giving them a well earned bath with a retired toothbrush.
We backtracked a bit in our stories below and started with our first night in Argentina. This country is filled with loving and RELAXED folk who enjoy, most importantly, each others company in a day, spending all of their afternoon around a table sharing soda or wine during what is known as “Siesta.”
Please enjoy 🙂
~ Melissa
** Oh, and just to clarify from a few questions “hrs riding” is the time our butt is actually on the saddle – Justin’s bike computer turns on and off when the bike is rolling versus still.
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Day 77 – October 26, 2011
border town of Jama to tiny town of Susque, Argentina
120km/74.5 miles ; 5:05hrs riding
“Psssst! You want a shower?!”
I came to a hault and turned to the sweet lady from Buenos Aires who was whispering to me in the dimly lit hall of a fancy restaurant/hotel located in the remote canyon lands of Northern Argentina, far from any other signs of civilization. Amazingly enough, the place had wifi!
“Yes?” I replied, uncertain of where this conversation was going.
It has been at least 8 days since I had a chance to take a cold shower and the dust from traversing the Laguna route in Southwest Bolivia still lay thick on my skin. I was thrilled by the offer but concerned by the clandestine whispering.
“Come to my room – I am friends with the owner and he thinks what you are doing with your bikes is great and wants to help out but his wife is not a fan and refuses to let you use the hotel amenities. Here, go tell your husband (normal assumption in South America) and then meet me in room 11. Come quick, I’ll grab you a towel.”
When this conversation began, I was on my way to the restaurant to buy a few empanadas, eat ice cream, and write an email. We had decided to stay the afternoon at the restaurant since it was our first contact with internet in over two weeks. I paused, giving myself a moment to process the change in plans, and proceeded to hunt down Justin to tell him the exciting news. I spotted him talking on Denis, our Ipad, to his dad in a hallway leading to the bathroom of the main restaurant.
In a probably over emphasized James Bond style, I tried to nonchalantly walk across the dining hall to Justin, avoiding eye contact with the wife and co-owner of the hotel. I hid behind a pillar as I relayed the message of the possibility to be clean, partially out of breathe due to my nerves kicking in. Unlike Bolivia and Peru, where rarely anyone knows more than “hello” or “Good Morning” (which they say at all hours of day) in English, many Argentinians, especially from larger cities, have a good base for the language so I have to be more cautious in spreading secret messages.
“Sppst… Psssst!”
Justin just looked over at me like I was crazy.
“Remember the nice lady with the cute dog who snagged us free food from the kitchen earlier today? Well she is offering us sssshowers (quietly emphasized) in her room!!! But the wife absolutely can not know about it! I’ll go first and then you can go second while I watch our stuff here.”
Justin tilted his head sideways and started trying to tell his dad to hold on, but the internet delay created utter confusion. He softly stated a very intelligent observation, “But our hair will be wet.”
“I already thought of that and asked her about it- she said just pretend to be sick. I am not sure how that would work, but I’ll tie a bandana around my head to hide my hair and … well… your hair already looks wet since it is so dirty so I doubt anyone will tell a difference.”
And with that, I apprehensively walked the hall to room 11 for my first shower in Argentina!
We are camped in the backyard of the hotel near a heard of cranky donkeys and grazing llamas, revelling in the fact that we are clean and reminiscing our day’s ride around another beautiful salt flat and blood red canyon lands that rival Utah’s vast canyons.
I am excited to ride to a bigger town tomorrow where a grocery store might exist!
~ Melissa
Day 79 – October 28, 2011
Purmamarca to Salta, Argentina
158km/ 98 miles; 7:58hrs riding
After a 2000m/6,500ft breathtaking descent from the high Andes we had been traversing for over two months, Justin and I found ourselves stopping to smell, admire, and take pictures of the many flowers and trees surrounding us. I even hugged one and shed a tear – it had been so long since I shared space with one of these beauties. The sound of wind tickling the leaves was like listening to an old friend. The oxygen saturated air was making us a bit giddy as we rolled to our first larger town since departing from the massive metropolis of La Paz, Bolivia. We deem it “larger” since it had a small store/deli and restaurants.
We rolled into town in late afternoon, and learned quickly that Argentinians take their daily Siesta very importantly. No restaurant was open and they would not open until 7:30 or 8pm at the earliest. Argentinians typically eat dinner around 9 or 10pm. 7pm is considered afternoon.
Luckily, we were able to stave off painful hunger with bread, shaved salami, and potato chips at the only open store in town. As we leaned against our bikes, totally consumed in our food, tourists would gawk at the two dirty people with packed bikes. Some would avoid eye contact while others would come up and ask many questions about our trip. One man, however, stood out from the rest. He came from around the corner, stopped and just stared at us and our bikes.
At first, we were not sure how to react, and finally Justin said, “Yea?”
In pops Arthur into our stories from the road. A touring cyclist from Holland, Arthur has been on many trips throughout the world on his bicycle – one that impressed us the most was traversing America from Anchorage, Alaska to Miami, Florida in 3 months! That means he rode about a century a day! His English was impressive and we immediately started sharing information from the road – he came up from the south along our planned path, and was headed to where we came from.
Over pizza and two 2 liter icy cold pear juice drinks, we chatted the night away. Thank goodness we met Arthur. First off, when we were planning to meet for dinner, we discovered that Argentina is another hour ahead. We said we’d meet him for dinner at 7pm to which he replied, “But it is 7 now…”
Secondly, Arthur is a terrific, kind soul who gave us his detailed maps of Argentina (hallelujah!) as well as a spare foldable tire for our bikes!! – An expensive buy in the states and impossible to find in South America as they have small sized wheels. Arthur, if you are reading this, thank you thank you thank you! (We are sorry we missed you the next morning, but the sound of birds greeting the sun at dawn woke us early and we decided to hit the road for Salta).
Around 10pm, we pushed our bikes to a campground and gasped at the price to sleep on dirt in town ($4 per person plus $4 for the tent!). When it is free out on the open road this is a hard price to swallow. Traveling in Argentina will be a bit different as hostels will be quite the rarity.
~ Melissa
Day 83- November 1, 2011
Cafayate (Wine Country) to San Jose, Argentina
108km/ 67 miles; 5:48hrs riding
Our day off in Salta proved to be restful as we enjoyed lounging and catching up on our town duties i.e. laundry, eating, blogging, and eating some more. We were able to meet up with our Australian cycling friends Meg and Jules, who have been jumping around a bit by bus to hang with “The Olds” as they call Megs’ mum and friend who are out visiting.
Melissa and I have quickly taken a huge liking to Argentine heladerias or ice cream shops. The ice cream is so rich and creamy and they have so many flavors. Our first time we each got a waffle cone, then did some quick math and discovered the more you buy the more you save and it is cheaper to buy a half or full kilo (2.2 pounds). So we went for the half, a sizable tub with three flavors, and after finishing it, I walked up to the counter and the woman pulled down a lid, as if to take the remainder home, but when I said I was looking for some more, she totally laughed and before I knew it Melissa was sharing some photos of our trip on the iPad with the whole staff and I had bought another 1/4 kilo… so a bit more than 3/4 kilo of ice cream was consumed before the night was up.
Riding to Cafayate, a town nestled amongst vineyards claiming to be Argentinas second most famous for vine, was incredible. We passed through the magnificent canyon Quebrada de Las Conchas, a national park known for its gnarled rock displays and brilliant colors. We stopped to walk in a couple steep narrow canyons, similar to what you might see in Southern Utah. One such canyon is shaped like an amphitheater with terrific vocals. We enjoyed as a gentleman singing on a ledge for all to hear. A bus of touring Argentinians from Buenos Aires, quietly sang along and made us smile.
One noticeable factor of being so much lower is the heat and by afternoon time, it makes sense why everyone goes indoors for a siesta. We pulled into Cafayate around 2 and grabbed a bite and some delectables at the bakery before chilling out for the afternoon and enjoying the Argentine tranquillo lifestyle. We rolled our pannier-less bicycles to a goat farm down a dirt road lined with willows and learned how to make goat cheese before savoring the farms prized cheese.
Ah, Argentina… what a treat.
~ Justin
Day 86 – November 4, 2011
San Blas to Chilecito, Argentina
124km/ 77 miles; 8:40hrs riding! (Longest day in the saddle yet!)
The last 3 days have been quite tortuous to ride. The heat has become almost unbearable as it soars above 95 degrees. The roads are often banked in a slight climb with howling winds around 45 mph. When there is downhill, you still go nowhere as the wind fights back. In addition, the green scenery and stunning flowers have disappeared and in their place, sand and thorny brush that threatens our tires and pokes our bottoms when we try to rest. Small villages are tiny oasises with water spigots and a few tall trees to attempt to block the afternoon winds.
Today was especially rough. The minute we turned from our evening oasis, where we slept on farmland behind a gas station, the wind turned on full blast with a semi-steep climb. We fortunately made it to the town of Pituil around noon where we stocked up on water, and then munched on 100grams of cheese and salame with crackers each. Four scoops of ice cream each topped off the tanks and then back out again to the desert war zone.
We left around 12:30pm with only 68km/42 miles left until Chilecito (translated to Little Chile – a name given for the many chilean people who crossed the border to work in a mine found on this side of the Andes). Usually this distance would be no problem after lunch, but today faired to kick our butts.
We took turns powering through the wind with the other right behind getting a slight break. Both in our lightest Granny Gears (I do not like to use this term since my Grandma is one of the strongest people I know), we moved at an excruciatingly slow pace. Over an hour and a half later, we had made it 6 miles. Simple math was telling me we were not going to make it to our destination. We were both on the brink of overheating our engines and decided to take a break under an inviting tree, one of very few we’d seen on the famous Route 40 which is similar to the old Route 66 in the US. I grabbed my sleeping mat, laid on the ground, and instantly passed out for over an hour, sheltering my head under my arm from the powerful wind.
Groggy-eyed and in a daze, we set out again about 3:30pm hoping to see a small pueblo, a gas station, a stream, some sign of life. Water was running low, and we both went into conservation mode, taking small sips just to keep our mouth moist in the intense, hot wind. At one point, we passed a herd of horses and mules grazing the few bushels of dry grass along the road. Quasi-delirious, I started talking out loud with the bevy, wondering how on Earth they survive out here and where they were hiding the water (from the many carcasses we passed, we knew some do not survive).
At 7pm, the sun started to hide behind the Andes jutting out to our west. We stopped a car at an intersection and asked about water as we were down to less than a quarter liter. The kind driver pointed down the road to a shrine for Difunta Correa, an “unofficial” Argentinian saint. Below is an excerpt about Correa:
“Difunta Correa is perhaps the most well-known Argentine folk saint. Deolinda Correa (difunta means ‘deceased’) died around 1835 in San Juan. According to the most popular version of the story, she became lost in the desert while pursuing her husband. He had been forcibly conscripted to fight in the Argentine civil wars, fallen sick, and been abandoned – but tragically, Deolinda never found him. Carrying her infant son in her arms, she succumbed to thirst and exhaustion. Passing gauchos found her body days later, and found the child alive, having survived by nursing at her miraculously ever-full breast.
Gauchos and truck drivers became her first devotees, creating small altars, and leaving bottles of water to quench her eternal thirst. Devotion began in the 1890s, and strengthened through the 20th century. She became recognised as the patron of travellers, and her shrines are now found on even some of the most remote roads in the country.” Learn More about Argentina’s unofficial saints at this website: http://www.argentinaindependent.com/life-style/society-life-style/locally-miraculous-argentina’s-unofficial-saints-/
We’ve passed numerous shrines for Correa and other Saints along the road, but never knew that the water was also used for those in need. We rolled to the shrine and filtered two bottles from the site. I was extremely hesitant to drink the water since it had been sitting in the sweltering heat for who knows how long in a plastic bottle but I was grateful for it if the need become dire.
[Desert makes you do strange things…]
22km/13.6 miles to Chilecito. It was 7:45pm. We looked at each other and knew we were both prepared to go for it! We were blessed with shelter from the wind for a brief moment on the road and a sizable downhill roll. At 9:00pm, after a 6km climb to the city, we found ourselves navigating the narrow bustling streets, myself in front wearing a headlamp and Justin following with a blinking back light. By far our longest day of riding time-wise, we were thrilled at our accomplishment.
Benito, a super friendly host, greeted us at a small, friendly, but expensive hostel where we are camped in the courtyard. At 11:30pm, after 12 empanadas, a 1/2 kilo of ice cream, and some leftover pasta from a fellow traveler in the hostel, we are ready to pass out. It is hard not to adjust to Argentinian lifestyle, resting in the afternoon and staying up quite late!
Time to rest.
~Melissa
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Delicious Recipe on the Road:
100+grams of butter
2tbs Curry powder and Red spice
1 can lentils
1 onion
2 tomatoes
2 bushels of collard greens
1 cup white rice
Cook Rice by package directions. Take off a bit early to conserve gas and let rice finish cooking by resting. In frying pan, melt butter and add curry and hot spice if desired. Add onion, lentils, tomato, and towards the end, greens. Pour on top of rice and buen provecho!
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