tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20733777127874664012024-02-19T03:58:47.374-08:00One Ride, One WorldHello! We're the McCanles', a father-son duo that set out from Ecuador on an 8,000-kilometer expedition by bicycle through South America between May 2013 and January 2014, and we would like to share our journey with you! After health issues, Scott returned home and Kurt continued pedaling to Argentina until 2014. We rode to fund a well in a village in Africa, which is beginning to come to fruition. Donors will be able to see the project location and pictures once funded!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-7148679112931346372014-01-25T20:42:00.000-08:002014-01-25T20:51:24.801-08:00December 21 – January 10: Valparaiso, Chile to Seattle/Portland, USA via Guatemala/Florida<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and SURPRISE
from… WASHINGTON! In order to surprise my family with my homecoming, most of
you were probably in the dark about my leaving South America. So, surprise! I
returned home on Christmas afternoon, went to Guatem</span><span style="color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">ala the next day, to Miami, and then back to Seattle to stay for no less than
a few years; something already tells me though that I’ll be back somewhere in
Latin America eventually… </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwg1Ot-2YjsRQpg9plEa_rS6YFEnrSeVHLJ8qd1zT9iPwIfqPFo1x4eR-7rYmGiBsufPIY2no1ij62e5e6ZCvnT_sQNPXKgJJYkM41cGnal3p4btaO404-XAaxAVQkj4ZwyADIXAsbwa-i/s1600/P1140400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwg1Ot-2YjsRQpg9plEa_rS6YFEnrSeVHLJ8qd1zT9iPwIfqPFo1x4eR-7rYmGiBsufPIY2no1ij62e5e6ZCvnT_sQNPXKgJJYkM41cGnal3p4btaO404-XAaxAVQkj4ZwyADIXAsbwa-i/s1600/P1140400.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi and I met this amazing lady on the plane and we wound up staying at her place in Guatemala City!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocjjQbzBkiFS_GOtu_nD8LYWSJzI5FL2McHOn09u1-__nXutlEWOQFHl2dqPu6O_EsbwlUkYxzKyIKA2NFFoo2-dG88_4MDQLvsPw3XkIHiEdtobvIhrS_5B5NRnhcIHkLJ7jncpRhMNv/s1600/P1140404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocjjQbzBkiFS_GOtu_nD8LYWSJzI5FL2McHOn09u1-__nXutlEWOQFHl2dqPu6O_EsbwlUkYxzKyIKA2NFFoo2-dG88_4MDQLvsPw3XkIHiEdtobvIhrS_5B5NRnhcIHkLJ7jncpRhMNv/s1600/P1140404.JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Antigua, Guatemala </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRl9fnKA93keUpL8czPOI6CuQLe5VwO44GAZVI4fAhbBUgJo29VCHfhizZ0GM5EfmCDwk4ZB05pWbT63pBlSIkobvYKB7VfjRgDQuLHq_UVdTkFCAECXm1oKxyNyvb__TQcoqpUuZL7WN/s1600/P1140406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRl9fnKA93keUpL8czPOI6CuQLe5VwO44GAZVI4fAhbBUgJo29VCHfhizZ0GM5EfmCDwk4ZB05pWbT63pBlSIkobvYKB7VfjRgDQuLHq_UVdTkFCAECXm1oKxyNyvb__TQcoqpUuZL7WN/s1600/P1140406.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbw3aCcN6FVNtZNIyufmWglUQZy1Fdzy3etWpC1ZfgsbLAisq-6b-r8zKDak44pgDiOyFba32dxsSh-COVqRmOnXItdid3Xa-herwIrXVTcsLuQ905K-MXNARrlMj7E5ylutZ-xMbFcK6/s1600/P1140412.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbw3aCcN6FVNtZNIyufmWglUQZy1Fdzy3etWpC1ZfgsbLAisq-6b-r8zKDak44pgDiOyFba32dxsSh-COVqRmOnXItdid3Xa-herwIrXVTcsLuQ905K-MXNARrlMj7E5ylutZ-xMbFcK6/s1600/P1140412.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">For our Water Project, we have not met our goal of
$10,000, but we hit $6500, which allows us to sponsor a well, rather than
completely construct one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best
present other than being home with my family would be to bring happiness and
security to the lives of hundreds of people just like us. Lets kick off 2014
the right way and get this well built so we can make a better life for someone
on this planet. </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDZYeHp86rAPwKz6opv6QYCGTOhtjlYJKmCyBqkvkmshWxrfoVu-sfI-jIVthpDUUAQ7hmdbWgvGiu9NiDcTn-qs969uT43YJcTTftoW9esNeD0mQoLhAf7LrxO-z21YwSywzkhsFLmfU/s1600/P1140462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdDZYeHp86rAPwKz6opv6QYCGTOhtjlYJKmCyBqkvkmshWxrfoVu-sfI-jIVthpDUUAQ7hmdbWgvGiu9NiDcTn-qs969uT43YJcTTftoW9esNeD0mQoLhAf7LrxO-z21YwSywzkhsFLmfU/s1600/P1140462.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi at the Cosmic Convergence </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwyjuOEXFxIZuJ8lYpkvuMDl6BrTw0Sy94Dg8a5x0ucr1Jvglmi6Ws8iyY2uzDj3G-ssDfelUJpA0PD2VWn1jIKGM2NBeOg9spPuLSHeMJ_uVxXbvNJrg4XmsTq6gHn-QWXIS3AHHRuOW/s1600/P1140472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwyjuOEXFxIZuJ8lYpkvuMDl6BrTw0Sy94Dg8a5x0ucr1Jvglmi6Ws8iyY2uzDj3G-ssDfelUJpA0PD2VWn1jIKGM2NBeOg9spPuLSHeMJ_uVxXbvNJrg4XmsTq6gHn-QWXIS3AHHRuOW/s1600/P1140472.JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the lovely people at our camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrremhEWQONXTfdV40yBir-v172Y_gpAU-za9dVvyjVeI0TjJKW895gyr7YZYTd-NhA3-Ghxgg1U5Y8RIQ1GWGhRL6vXNi9gWJepO-6t-5TPHoNONwvorGzMTmUFKq22a4IfvPEDbX4hSN/s1600/P1140486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrremhEWQONXTfdV40yBir-v172Y_gpAU-za9dVvyjVeI0TjJKW895gyr7YZYTd-NhA3-Ghxgg1U5Y8RIQ1GWGhRL6vXNi9gWJepO-6t-5TPHoNONwvorGzMTmUFKq22a4IfvPEDbX4hSN/s1600/P1140486.JPG" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bringing on the 2014 pre-dawn at the Desert Dweller's performance on the lake - incredible</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So, I was home for Christmas, then I left for
Guatemala on the 26<sup>th </sup>for a festival called the Cosmic Convergence
on Lake Atitlan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It was a
beautiful celebration of the heart, a cosmic gathering of intelligent people
with big ideas, good intentions and flow in their body. An amazing mix of music,
art, indigenous culture, inspirational cinema and ecological building practice.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is what the website says, and I’d
like to just simplify it by calling it a spiritual hippie-fest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1aDdJBxJmw-P5X0p5lPKCO0Kbns2P9-OSk1V2OCLRcqE1ueS6vDzsS-aLgXpIES0NucL5cg8UvDAoXLuouh7CfXyX_m7mF-4wjwMymKn_Dizr32LNuEP6bm4dZvdlyKNDZ8RA5emBOCDE/s1600/P1140488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1aDdJBxJmw-P5X0p5lPKCO0Kbns2P9-OSk1V2OCLRcqE1ueS6vDzsS-aLgXpIES0NucL5cg8UvDAoXLuouh7CfXyX_m7mF-4wjwMymKn_Dizr32LNuEP6bm4dZvdlyKNDZ8RA5emBOCDE/s1600/P1140488.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">January 1st, 2014. - Lake Atitlan, Guatemala</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchPzUMnPNtJnYKwvBSF4_z0KKbZYgyD4Cs19TstAiMGEgs3I8yTQIH9KJsg03nE2xxQgMgQyKcemswPbxbvnj4xuiQ6GX69BjSqdWAp1cnp811KAD8ePX6_nJikepknI44mcnHLWdAuNa/s1600/P1140499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchPzUMnPNtJnYKwvBSF4_z0KKbZYgyD4Cs19TstAiMGEgs3I8yTQIH9KJsg03nE2xxQgMgQyKcemswPbxbvnj4xuiQ6GX69BjSqdWAp1cnp811KAD8ePX6_nJikepknI44mcnHLWdAuNa/s1600/P1140499.JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Atitlan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnS6w50dyD1dIFCNni8H1MMQIu54lSkG1fgFdXVxW5wP2FF94x5ypcpsV7y8BmgdnF0o8_6QWBG999bQmrHruSLWeusek4B478-4oBHCAUfHOP1ESlEAJXqftCC_xWHSS9JNfFJI-1qQc/s1600/P1140506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnS6w50dyD1dIFCNni8H1MMQIu54lSkG1fgFdXVxW5wP2FF94x5ypcpsV7y8BmgdnF0o8_6QWBG999bQmrHruSLWeusek4B478-4oBHCAUfHOP1ESlEAJXqftCC_xWHSS9JNfFJI-1qQc/s1600/P1140506.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My home for a little while at the Miami airport</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After bringing on the New Years and
exploring some of that area of Guatemala with Heidi, I went to Miami, trying to
get home on stand-by (vacant seats on the plane).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a few days of trying to get out of Miami, I bought a
ticket and wound up spending a week in Miami and The Keys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6olwvvdI072l0UKlRwGs9LyRDi2agwPN53BYnwFawaTP-YOW4OX2WFXEc-HSDqsEGNG72erP1UZaduT9Wh2ILkZJYnUNgFKIM4kyrqLfJU82ld61i4FlF8TFPZ0VIOlqzBE7zEY3pLnzm/s1600/P1140514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6olwvvdI072l0UKlRwGs9LyRDi2agwPN53BYnwFawaTP-YOW4OX2WFXEc-HSDqsEGNG72erP1UZaduT9Wh2ILkZJYnUNgFKIM4kyrqLfJU82ld61i4FlF8TFPZ0VIOlqzBE7zEY3pLnzm/s1600/P1140514.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miami</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipb6JSgnYaY26XqDXtJME6E6bV1kV4wpHle_CUnlntWxuG4tWgfpj8LUdLdOxrG4Tf3Y2jyk7YnhHWGV9VFlytn6fnUVveDEJ24fQHkiJzGJL7hLXBId7G0eGFImccbBuHM3s9kG6xoYC4/s1600/P1140540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipb6JSgnYaY26XqDXtJME6E6bV1kV4wpHle_CUnlntWxuG4tWgfpj8LUdLdOxrG4Tf3Y2jyk7YnhHWGV9VFlytn6fnUVveDEJ24fQHkiJzGJL7hLXBId7G0eGFImccbBuHM3s9kG6xoYC4/s1600/P1140540.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some homies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClZ9jtB0pwfa0eYqe5cI6W9ntMUlzMBLPQIs0ekOVeIzLKEfQFD7aB369O0VN6KgoqWvlMS8uM0uNsRtmGYc19OJO25_c-VI9mpzXaqkouR01XHdymRVg_QKNWOF4WRD3EtLZb5a6P9Hl/s1600/P1140543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiClZ9jtB0pwfa0eYqe5cI6W9ntMUlzMBLPQIs0ekOVeIzLKEfQFD7aB369O0VN6KgoqWvlMS8uM0uNsRtmGYc19OJO25_c-VI9mpzXaqkouR01XHdymRVg_QKNWOF4WRD3EtLZb5a6P9Hl/s1600/P1140543.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-o2CrO-oA6MCy_FDgTXzfT7FCcZpmN1jdmTS21G4n_x090n7BOKfqoiLTUXzsiGpbVV9AthTdO09EQxDQIkI2RvB18IzyIpo9YLE666XqwTx6Ztxk4OIcMLfxzMCxf0sSmPnprzkdBIe/s1600/P1140561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-o2CrO-oA6MCy_FDgTXzfT7FCcZpmN1jdmTS21G4n_x090n7BOKfqoiLTUXzsiGpbVV9AthTdO09EQxDQIkI2RvB18IzyIpo9YLE666XqwTx6Ztxk4OIcMLfxzMCxf0sSmPnprzkdBIe/s1600/P1140561.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beach day with hostel folks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s not really my style, but I really
appreciated all the Caribbean and Latin influence, as well as the 80 degrees
and bright blue water beaches!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
met a Norwegian and an American, so the three of us rented a car and went out
to the Keys for a few days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got
a flight, had a little trouble in Houston, got re-routed to Seattle and took
the train down to Portland, finally getting back on January 10<sup>th</sup>
after nine days in transit from Lake Atitlan!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABIcnOiTxUD1IDbyINGxT5qePZgjLJwWu0dfp2Ym04VHvSb0tNoH4PUPcKA3IjH3Y8e8giWNA_68BsniC-muYBe7uDmCFHcQ1WZ_bdtn3Ve1M8K5L4AhfglVqOan_7W-S79mcl35ysE1l/s1600/P1140638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABIcnOiTxUD1IDbyINGxT5qePZgjLJwWu0dfp2Ym04VHvSb0tNoH4PUPcKA3IjH3Y8e8giWNA_68BsniC-muYBe7uDmCFHcQ1WZ_bdtn3Ve1M8K5L4AhfglVqOan_7W-S79mcl35ysE1l/s1600/P1140638.JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Highway 1, heading out into infinity</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRoQFg5nRYGQDTpbj2BeUz86hjdrel5-WyTHUR0-loo32ab5hkiVrJ9iosT_yXZswci8O9AdsnrK2Et9fba7804iUq2rR0ceJ_ZXD7oIv5DjVpFDWagGRpW5MdSVdZiJsl2sMEPB6S1nE/s1600/P1140643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRoQFg5nRYGQDTpbj2BeUz86hjdrel5-WyTHUR0-loo32ab5hkiVrJ9iosT_yXZswci8O9AdsnrK2Et9fba7804iUq2rR0ceJ_ZXD7oIv5DjVpFDWagGRpW5MdSVdZiJsl2sMEPB6S1nE/s1600/P1140643.JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out exploring the Keys for a couple days</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AkG0ZU8EhFL1SSHoMOtsZUinpsqatI9KhOo-qaksme3BOeYudCGgmBki-H0yXGeTSJ8i7QPMaE77nZ5RiwXkljMNjqtEzAc_OQwsQ0bTHpo-dY67F88_J0-z7UBohMQJqtRB_1DyK3bp/s1600/P1140669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AkG0ZU8EhFL1SSHoMOtsZUinpsqatI9KhOo-qaksme3BOeYudCGgmBki-H0yXGeTSJ8i7QPMaE77nZ5RiwXkljMNjqtEzAc_OQwsQ0bTHpo-dY67F88_J0-z7UBohMQJqtRB_1DyK3bp/s1600/P1140669.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Further from Washington than South America!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4rIaUz4qv7IZGwXTqSJ825HRF0ZjLP-1SqPJNZjLdT1d95FV5El5wu7ZZnl4Ymk9gxR1y0aAExFl7EFlV8Ub4bqsfMAkw4G8KBRiLCV-wRwyAwm1hOwtK3jJZfJ1Jj_txfa3jWhbEZzE/s1600/P1140606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN4rIaUz4qv7IZGwXTqSJ825HRF0ZjLP-1SqPJNZjLdT1d95FV5El5wu7ZZnl4Ymk9gxR1y0aAExFl7EFlV8Ub4bqsfMAkw4G8KBRiLCV-wRwyAwm1hOwtK3jJZfJ1Jj_txfa3jWhbEZzE/s1600/P1140606.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bird Sanctuary</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">I am now in Seattle, back working for
Expedia.com and am currently working on finding a new place to call home!</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">That said, this will be my last blog
about the crazy bicycle ride between Cuenca, Ecuador and Valparaiso,
Chile.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">I might post some
statistics and other photos if there’s enough expressed interest.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">If any of you would like to follow my
comparatively uninteresting life of backpacking, climbing, mountaineering, and
sailing back in Seattle, feel free to ‘Friend’ me on facebook.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #999999; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13pt;">Otherwise, I’ll just close this chapter
with the following:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Any great experience gives us the opportunity to
redefine ourselves. Whether you jump on a bus bound for another city or leave
on an adventure to an unknown continent, the way we perceive the experiences
and relationships we’re surrounded by is up to us; we create our mood. I believe
the secret ingredient to having a monumental adventure is to plan nothing and
never use a guide, rather find your own ‘road less traveled.’ I use the bicycle
with tattered photo-copy maps and recommendations from travelers – there are
tons of creative ways to explore the worlds’ landscapes and cultures, it just
takes a little imagination. From here, just flow, listening to where your soul
and instincts takes you. This past year traveling held some of the best moments
of my life and allowed me to recognize and change a lot of old habits,
replacing them with new ideas and actions. I strove at first to find who and
what I was looking for in this trip, but learned that if I had patience, what I
lacked in my life would come. From experience to experience, relationship to
relationship, everything happens for a reason and every day I live is to my
astonishment always better than the last. </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<br />
</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">THANK YOU to all the donors who have helped us
raise what we have for our water project in Africa. You know who you are and you
should be tremendously proud of the humanitarian equalities you’re fighting
for. THANK YOU Dad for beginning this adventure with me and essentially getting
me started on a trip that I will think about every day for the rest of my life.
THANK YOU Wilhelm for hosting us in Chiclayo, Peru - thank your grandpa for us
for cleaning our blood in his special machine! THANK YOU Thomas for all the
endless conversations and crepes and to you also Tenny, you guys both inspired
me to do a surprise homecoming. THANK YOU Suzanne and Tobias for helping me
through the Cusco ordeal and buying Oregano at the plaza in Cusco haha. THANK
YOU Loic for launching me into the second chapter of my trip and for being a
great companion for those months spinning south – so many oatmeal-tuna-cracker-soy
meat-soup packet lunch mixes out in that damn windy desert… Rinconada! THANK
YOU Gael, Grace, Rebecca, Juliana, James, Marianna, Nicolas, and Christa who
made Sucre, Bolivia an incredible memory that I’ll never forget. THANK YOU
Nigel for showing me that it is possible to tour with a bike too heavy to lift.
So glad to see you doing something like this at your ripe young age. THANK YOU
Anto, Mauro and Fauco for the early morning road trip around Salta and an
introduction to the indescribable friendship that nearly every Argentinian
shares. THANK YOU Lukas for introducing me to the art of meditation and
positive energy. You helped me remember that my bike trip is not about biking;
I hope to one day see you in rainbowland. THANK YOU Sr. Antonio in Belen for
creating a haven for cyclists bounding with art and inspiration. THANK YOU Coco
and Gregg for all those warm starry desert nights spent stuffed in the tent
watching Breaking Bad or Boardwalk Empire. You douche bags really brought out
the creativity in my life and reminded me that sharing everything is the only
way to live. THANK YOU Vickie for spontaneously hosting six smelly cyclists in
your tiny two-bedroom house when we needed help in Chilecito. THANK YOU Jackie
and Kayla for those awesome nights camping around the fire – the ‘family song’
will forever be stuck in my head at the most unsuspecting moments. THANK YOU
Miguel, Cecilia, and friends in San Jaun for not only accepting dirtbag
strangers into your home, but for making us feel like your family. Grido’s, the
asados, the boliches and endless Fernet and Coke… You guys are exceptional
examples of a genuine friend. THANK YOU Victor in Uspallata for letting me into
your home and for the opportunity to make Camping Venancio into a refuge for
‘people like us.’ Never did get your real name, gringo loco… THANK YOU
Nastasia, Fanny, and Charlin for getting me on my feet with work in Santiago
when I first arrived. THANK YOU Sina for the fun adventures around Santiago and
to Francisca, Yuri, Santo, Pablo, and gang for all the late nights on the
balcony with Spooky relentlessly licking my apparently delicious ankles. THANK
YOU Ivan, James, Jason, Lena, Seona, Diedre, and others for sharing the good
times at Ventana Sur Hostal, whether in the pool at 1am or dancing salsa in the
family room. THANK YOU Juan Carlos for the pre-mountain pass motivation sesh
and for offering your house to me in Santiago should I return. THANK YOU to
Sierra and Liam for being the best fucking Canadians that ever lived OH CANADA...
THANK YOU Poroto, Luke, Dave, Rafa, and Katrina for making my departure really
really really hard. Throwing shapes at The Terrace, bike rides, drives, Chuckee
Cheeses, rock climbing at the beach, jam sesh’s, countless after-party
sunrises… The energy and happiness we share can move planets and one day we’ll
all be howling again under that creamy Chilean moon.</span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE63iR4SkejuWXcREH4Cy6eMTIbVNCqhvvk5Rdbz6Z_UScU-PsN_5f0tZPbjt52X478plCFUIXWjkG3NdEFgbeSM74ZIQ_DeUKApKWWahVUZKCFjrVI_t2CCKRlj7XR8EicS_s7_GsHnQL/s1600/the+kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE63iR4SkejuWXcREH4Cy6eMTIbVNCqhvvk5Rdbz6Z_UScU-PsN_5f0tZPbjt52X478plCFUIXWjkG3NdEFgbeSM74ZIQ_DeUKApKWWahVUZKCFjrVI_t2CCKRlj7XR8EicS_s7_GsHnQL/s1600/the+kids.jpg" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poroto, Luke, Dave and I</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">I would never have met the Valparaiso gang if I
hadn’t known the Ventana Sur gang and I would never know the Ventana Sur gang
if I hadn’t known Nastasia. I would never know Nastasia if I hadn’t met her
sister Julianna, who I met because of Loic… I would never know Fran and the
Santiago gang without Coco and Gregg, who I met with Lukas; I would never have
met Loic or Lukas or any of these extraordinary souls if I had started with
anyone but my Dad. </span><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-size: 13pt;"><br />
<br />
</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">To all of you that have followed this trip, I
hope you’ve enjoyed the ride! Your support and enthusiasm is always treasured
and I hope you took a little piece of inspiration from the trip to use in your
own life. I hope you had a fantastic New Years and a 2014 filled with
simplicity and happiness. All the relationships and experiences in our lives
are connected, leading us somewhere; the decision is up to us whether to fight
the current or take the risk and flow. Valparaiso happened to lead me back to
the Northwest, but don’t believe for a second that I am ending my trip. I’m
just changing locations</span></span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">. :)</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2zmBu-YINjpBSYb9xiODdADoeYtRC1iO1N-wtFjWivoBDnK2u0sf8AEArlJF3fkE68Z0CkhZqy_945OfJvdVivHCZIjwZ1X68ilIJwazMeI_AVAGo-Xcpj8pZusxFp5walVk_N6H9v03/s1600/Photo+on+2014-01-10+at+15.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih2zmBu-YINjpBSYb9xiODdADoeYtRC1iO1N-wtFjWivoBDnK2u0sf8AEArlJF3fkE68Z0CkhZqy_945OfJvdVivHCZIjwZ1X68ilIJwazMeI_AVAGo-Xcpj8pZusxFp5walVk_N6H9v03/s1600/Photo+on+2014-01-10+at+15.38.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-24556587960192052762013-12-20T09:56:00.001-08:002013-12-20T09:58:17.672-08:00November 11 - December 20: Uspallata, Arg to Valparaiso, Chile via SantiagoHey guys! I hope everyone’s winter/summer is going well. I’ll have to say right now that the next month and a half will have to be heavily summarized as I could write a novel on everything that has happened in my life since leaving Uspallata. With that, keep in mind that of the 40ish days I’ve written about, 7 were spent cycle-touring. When I left you on the last blog, I was feeling a bit homesick there in tiny Uspallata, longing for the city and preparing to make the crossing over the Andes to Chile. I left early from Uspallata on the 11<sup>th</sup>, riding west into the canyons that lead up to the Cristo Redentor pass over the Andes separating Argentina from Chile. It was my first day riding solo on this trip and in the evening, my first time wild-camping solo while touring since Europe in 2009!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXV76V848VIZLzAgKhC-YJZvBXkz1DBFJeq6FpOSfi1-5uNVHRxOWEGtCIVL51sZZtaiUwizpSivfE7xb2G5by8Jzdi5700hj3A2UUKPOpMBDTrEUVkvG-p050mywaA1zd26xmWLe3DqJ7/s1600/P1120941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXV76V848VIZLzAgKhC-YJZvBXkz1DBFJeq6FpOSfi1-5uNVHRxOWEGtCIVL51sZZtaiUwizpSivfE7xb2G5by8Jzdi5700hj3A2UUKPOpMBDTrEUVkvG-p050mywaA1zd26xmWLe3DqJ7/s640/P1120941.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uspallata</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdQ6mahFOJSm1UuO-Mhgyk5jIIKj8-2b6K5OvXTnIcOzVOvqa0iTkzDaBqnduIvtT8r3dJZT0HhEBuw5r_R2IEFZ2hZ9iYa972ik7S4-CTcKIntJYnYiD_DrENITu1dOC-HAV58_HqSu6/s1600/P1120984.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLdQ6mahFOJSm1UuO-Mhgyk5jIIKj8-2b6K5OvXTnIcOzVOvqa0iTkzDaBqnduIvtT8r3dJZT0HhEBuw5r_R2IEFZ2hZ9iYa972ik7S4-CTcKIntJYnYiD_DrENITu1dOC-HAV58_HqSu6/s640/P1120984.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've been on this general route for a good long time...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwfMLgbVIeVu_g28t9Ib2TQtuwyiPvmgw6KjfS2nndX9oJU1RzuIbDHKD4AmFQKeBhYhUcDmlYgTD_F6uj2GyRR0loEWLvIAlLiw4yTYRAnPpxjlw8BnYEb-xpCjCeMtMHqoEyBD7hyAd/s1600/P1130004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwfMLgbVIeVu_g28t9Ib2TQtuwyiPvmgw6KjfS2nndX9oJU1RzuIbDHKD4AmFQKeBhYhUcDmlYgTD_F6uj2GyRR0loEWLvIAlLiw4yTYRAnPpxjlw8BnYEb-xpCjCeMtMHqoEyBD7hyAd/s640/P1130004.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping in the flowers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is prohibited to bring fruits and vegetables over the
border and I took advantage of this law by helping myself to all the dumped
produce on the side of the road. A light
wind started blowing across my face and progressed throughout the day into a
hellfire of headwind, which accompanied an already fierce steep climb. I stopped after only 70km, afraid I wouldn’t
find a good place to camp down the road out of the wind, and had a nice evening
to myself, going down and washing at the river, cooking a huge, delicious meal,
and watching a movie before bed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-EwO0Lgbs8fifosR3LNP-N6LNyiocJmBOu9QsyjTaslD38FsQ8b63TivT5ovokRl5wj22SDDTVYEoQ-CP2biMofq3_j9Pf7w1GZjB7YDnWEjNTCaLHJTpKl4uYPUSCB2szzFa0UBqfhZ/s1600/P1130058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9-EwO0Lgbs8fifosR3LNP-N6LNyiocJmBOu9QsyjTaslD38FsQ8b63TivT5ovokRl5wj22SDDTVYEoQ-CP2biMofq3_j9Pf7w1GZjB7YDnWEjNTCaLHJTpKl4uYPUSCB2szzFa0UBqfhZ/s640/P1130058.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cerro Aconcagua, the highest peak in the America's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaqDd7x4uoqpzv2Ss0BrG79genaaPfUMI-D9dQp9MJ_aIeLeOT9evvUCdog-yDb5IwUg1zONIEBEY4N7x63KpX88ZNfdBaRKHFJI4X5PpZoCrrhTJSMDuJPJWDj8pQkSurfFE7tkHx118/s1600/P1130063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaqDd7x4uoqpzv2Ss0BrG79genaaPfUMI-D9dQp9MJ_aIeLeOT9evvUCdog-yDb5IwUg1zONIEBEY4N7x63KpX88ZNfdBaRKHFJI4X5PpZoCrrhTJSMDuJPJWDj8pQkSurfFE7tkHx118/s640/P1130063.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sea-creature fossil here at 10,000ft - evidence that we live on an insane planet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day, I stopped off and did a little hike in the
Aconcagua National Park to get a good view of the highest mountain outside of
the Himalayas. On my way back down to
the bike and my stuff, I randomly ran into Aurora, the French lady I had
originally met in La Paz, Bolivia at the Casa de Ciclistas. If you recall that far back in the swampy
wasteland of words and pictures that is my blog, you’ll remember that she is
traveling with her dog that she brought to South America by plane! With all the weight, headwind, and steepness,
she pedaled pretty slowly, so I was able to take my time, and Lela (her dog)
just trotted alongside us. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfuwwBknsgONHHsT2Hw-8fhsSLuMBDn0oYCTInXDagG5UoZauYiStnnZfp6towQvh6CwRkFLFe_03oidtoGoIpitu_w1h_ciRzDVvsZT4EJyu2Y8nhMSvioKreLmx18-KkQP-wILMd-8QY/s1600/P1130055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfuwwBknsgONHHsT2Hw-8fhsSLuMBDn0oYCTInXDagG5UoZauYiStnnZfp6towQvh6CwRkFLFe_03oidtoGoIpitu_w1h_ciRzDVvsZT4EJyu2Y8nhMSvioKreLmx18-KkQP-wILMd-8QY/s640/P1130055.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqVlzGWbPiUB1CKddqXJJZP1Xz-EmIR-OjUoy3Q1M9PiN3NEdv5G3TLP8kHQFw-9XZ68H034_pfS4PHp9WgbwZpmYrLMejF7-6hyq-m4mJe-vkIVWBkSREXdep_rapNZ0wh_IpSgvB0yZ/s1600/P1130075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqVlzGWbPiUB1CKddqXJJZP1Xz-EmIR-OjUoy3Q1M9PiN3NEdv5G3TLP8kHQFw-9XZ68H034_pfS4PHp9WgbwZpmYrLMejF7-6hyq-m4mJe-vkIVWBkSREXdep_rapNZ0wh_IpSgvB0yZ/s640/P1130075.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aurora and her dog Lela from France</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The border was the most beautiful I have ever seen, with
huge snowy mountains shooting up away from the canyon that held the tiny
buildings and people controlling each country.
All the vertical landscape made it difficult to keep my camera tucked
away! Getting back into Chile was pretty
straightforward, though my lentils were taken from me. And on the other side, a huge downhill
awaited us from some 11,000ft to 2,000ft.
I could hear Lela whining from her little bed above Aurora’s front wheel
as we wound down the 50-something switchbacks.
Nowhere near the bottom, we found an incredible place to camp, with
grass, winding streams, trees, rocks, and even a bathroom to use! It was close to the road, but the sound of
the water drowned everything out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJ4pGMbk0Gw1HxOLWFA_07CmxldTaILiG_DAbZI7aJRogkA9GG31O-yRN51NGCoGrR-YVgu6zQu1hg1w2ySTX-HhL41vDyQvgq9Cm6vEKQj_3EcEWLr20dnyr4T5QOGYM6Ck-AuIMHKwk/s1600/P1130096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJ4pGMbk0Gw1HxOLWFA_07CmxldTaILiG_DAbZI7aJRogkA9GG31O-yRN51NGCoGrR-YVgu6zQu1hg1w2ySTX-HhL41vDyQvgq9Cm6vEKQj_3EcEWLr20dnyr4T5QOGYM6Ck-AuIMHKwk/s640/P1130096.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting close to the border</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoUQalBZWq4iIjCG_Y5qaoCm0Qid2Kwq0-XrOX8uxEvqhN8Eh9pjxjwrNklMNIsbDVfvaxXNoCUu12Nhq07tJWZzQYr4kdUF0Uydpsm8A3lpuqpYzADaAWKBYZWd_0wemWtSkq3Wd777t/s1600/P1130116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoUQalBZWq4iIjCG_Y5qaoCm0Qid2Kwq0-XrOX8uxEvqhN8Eh9pjxjwrNklMNIsbDVfvaxXNoCUu12Nhq07tJWZzQYr4kdUF0Uydpsm8A3lpuqpYzADaAWKBYZWd_0wemWtSkq3Wd777t/s640/P1130116.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello again Chile</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJjB7eMzqL4UbNUpzAJ_5_F5R-Aa4GC_We8rbWCOCLUdAgdKSDagw_U2NAo1rUwIxJM-y9CiXD6l5k3145IM58acvU3jszNWZKF9XoT9y5lTrKaiQRZfoLtWu0AMkfLUXbR3OmfOSN5uv/s1600/P1130138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJjB7eMzqL4UbNUpzAJ_5_F5R-Aa4GC_We8rbWCOCLUdAgdKSDagw_U2NAo1rUwIxJM-y9CiXD6l5k3145IM58acvU3jszNWZKF9XoT9y5lTrKaiQRZfoLtWu0AMkfLUXbR3OmfOSN5uv/s640/P1130138.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winding down</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In the morning, we continued downhill to Los Andes, the first city in Chile on this route. I saw a cycle-tourist climbing the hill while going down, so I went over to his side of the road, stopping in the dirt next to him and not only did he not stop, but didn’t make eye contact. Some cyclist-tourists are like this – too driven to even have a conversation and too passionate about their journey that they forget the best part – its relationships.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uwEajH0FcxMXl6nWLRs5hSvYw-6FBdb9Q8mD-h-vvtS7HbxCGqkWZvwqfXG5JnrPnbxRv99TX8flHPc-60XuS7GMXYJx8LTERCk_RyALnycuE4GzbcEGNlzckdQensJLjR9EHElgjdM5/s1600/P1130128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uwEajH0FcxMXl6nWLRs5hSvYw-6FBdb9Q8mD-h-vvtS7HbxCGqkWZvwqfXG5JnrPnbxRv99TX8flHPc-60XuS7GMXYJx8LTERCk_RyALnycuE4GzbcEGNlzckdQensJLjR9EHElgjdM5/s640/P1130128.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most beautiful border crossing ever</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQKwJEdFAY3_TMG05UOjbpUfSYM5j3A8WxygNhDWXoGqJolI4oH-eQ98cVd1U80KIJyyu8hXKf1I3iHfVkDeEHFWJB4JhkC94ILkpOESvikb6y46QgpXoVpQQw8jZ3TR7jm_6fJc07zeC/s1600/P1130163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQKwJEdFAY3_TMG05UOjbpUfSYM5j3A8WxygNhDWXoGqJolI4oH-eQ98cVd1U80KIJyyu8hXKf1I3iHfVkDeEHFWJB4JhkC94ILkpOESvikb6y46QgpXoVpQQw8jZ3TR7jm_6fJc07zeC/s640/P1130163.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lela</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5nhAjvCiifo0Ue6fNimCJiFbAC3QMloDytVDZLxwqO9KxQtgMDeYOXC9PwNTS_7KRVXGN4Kd47HhXaUs6YCVdLML6YKpP-TyIJ6F-MXis3Q6nMhgMlfc5BjRd1aKFffJIt1pJywhJxw4z/s1600/P1130165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5nhAjvCiifo0Ue6fNimCJiFbAC3QMloDytVDZLxwqO9KxQtgMDeYOXC9PwNTS_7KRVXGN4Kd47HhXaUs6YCVdLML6YKpP-TyIJ6F-MXis3Q6nMhgMlfc5BjRd1aKFffJIt1pJywhJxw4z/s640/P1130165.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We arrived in Los Andes, got some money, used
internet, and picked up groceries. I was
able to find everything I needed and even more than what I could find in
grocery stores in the States! Powdered
soy milk, store-brand chocolate granola cereal, PB&J, German biscuits, soy
milanesas, even seitan! Aurora and I
rode our separate ways thereafter because it boiled down to the fact that
riding through cities is something I love and she hates. That night, I found a fantastic grove of
Eucalyptus trees near an irrigation canal to pass my last night before
Santiago. I rolled in early and caught
the moonrise, enjoying bowl after bowl of chocolate granola cereal. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtk06mIJZ1k4pB8uv37o675Ikg3j_0q2ScqDrKbxL0xpDwqmhAah2AMOg_DC9YsiGbYrFf2tpj_KgZBElyLHic4NxIrsHA3w5_8byqe6Atim5eOphThPpzLlTJ9S922vD9U5RkpZq8z66/s1600/P1130179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtk06mIJZ1k4pB8uv37o675Ikg3j_0q2ScqDrKbxL0xpDwqmhAah2AMOg_DC9YsiGbYrFf2tpj_KgZBElyLHic4NxIrsHA3w5_8byqe6Atim5eOphThPpzLlTJ9S922vD9U5RkpZq8z66/s640/P1130179.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jumbo: The greatest supermarket south of the U.S.A.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Rt5Gw-EQ-ihHt8ZFWw8WUtSn5RtL1g6zfjN5yqihyphenhyphenjKFd009LwddsIYJjy7da_sIjBKqn917Ld7RBWFqs00JSj1VrjhIypQr4Vwtl6MEEWWlog6sTC7av0fhP5OBqu2_jcTYLuN89CUm/s1600/P1130204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Rt5Gw-EQ-ihHt8ZFWw8WUtSn5RtL1g6zfjN5yqihyphenhyphenjKFd009LwddsIYJjy7da_sIjBKqn917Ld7RBWFqs00JSj1VrjhIypQr4Vwtl6MEEWWlog6sTC7av0fhP5OBqu2_jcTYLuN89CUm/s640/P1130204.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilean suburbia... bleh</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cycling into Santiago from the north wasn’t too bad, the
traffic was horrendous but I managed to somehow avoid lots of ghettos that I
had heard about in the north. This
wouldn’t be the case when cycling back out of the city a few weeks later
through a different part of North Santiago.
Once downtown, I obtained a map and made my way to Nastasia’s house, the
sister of a French girl I had met in Sucre, Bolivia. She is studying and living in an awesome
little house in a nice area of the city with other foreign students and a few
locals. Her roommate Fanny was even nice
enough to give up her whole room for me to use for a few days while I was at
their house!<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLl_2qPgkwR17cOhyphenhyphenGEBpwR2TE-leROUUJvZG7yOqp6dNI7NmQgBHEBxgzQUfIdBXFHYu-7510mRjL6Q2Trk-Ffm1LohfqPxmLQydJrzPNS2ACkOuNI5XQ0cJQs1iip0tZonHP7l6WkKbM/s1600/P1130209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLl_2qPgkwR17cOhyphenhyphenGEBpwR2TE-leROUUJvZG7yOqp6dNI7NmQgBHEBxgzQUfIdBXFHYu-7510mRjL6Q2Trk-Ffm1LohfqPxmLQydJrzPNS2ACkOuNI5XQ0cJQs1iip0tZonHP7l6WkKbM/s640/P1130209.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding the autopiste... Definitely blaring my music on this part</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9PMG160FcNctJRumnQkJZ5lFVEp5OkOk37KKBigCvE_Lbf6Bh1mOcGtVFEom5eA6IBklgpGwq1wDv-CrYsuVHBGveaBjnaTDZEocAbeKoCTut_3uVaGaGsYTEDeGuwqF7rym7uVS0JO2/s1600/P1130259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9PMG160FcNctJRumnQkJZ5lFVEp5OkOk37KKBigCvE_Lbf6Bh1mOcGtVFEom5eA6IBklgpGwq1wDv-CrYsuVHBGveaBjnaTDZEocAbeKoCTut_3uVaGaGsYTEDeGuwqF7rym7uVS0JO2/s640/P1130259.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moonrise in Santiago</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
SANTIAGO (mid-November to early December):</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Santiago is no walk in the park, it’s an enormous city; you could
combine the population of Los Angeles, San Francisco, Portland, and Seattle, and
you’d still fall short of Santiago’s 6+ million residents! Keep in mind though that Chile is pretty
developed, so it reflects an urban city with skyscrapers and financial districts,
cultural and artistic neighborhoods, and everything else a city can offer. Many people use Santiago as a base to explore
the giant mountains to the east, or the beach which is equally as far to the
west. I was there to get my city-time
in, I’ve missed it! My first few days
there were spent finding new clothes, shoes, and a good tattoo artist, plus learning
how to get around the city on the crazy bike paths and through the parks. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKvReHqVN3xDE8JveDgvsxGX2Up0ngDKzZlgx02-HkTsBpUx14Bm16kE59uWfkHfXkagIDGYzZyaW58b4qUsHw6mO52czKOhvxI1mJ51BuZa2OJnlAlc37jlvot6SRiC83ESur4Mp2EyH/s1600/P1130233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSKvReHqVN3xDE8JveDgvsxGX2Up0ngDKzZlgx02-HkTsBpUx14Bm16kE59uWfkHfXkagIDGYzZyaW58b4qUsHw6mO52czKOhvxI1mJ51BuZa2OJnlAlc37jlvot6SRiC83ESur4Mp2EyH/s640/P1130233.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santiago from Cerro San Cristobal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHK4D_-Cv3EMvGlN8ZlCRliY9gFr9GbBD3T5cQP1Le2zadQFqYYC24zrhSiXL7QjjqSc8OEwmfntRc29wyzgtk6v8Qzk83qkyYL4IDoI1mmLQfbw1UxNu-RYpeExysQJcJVApFsC7ncxHM/s1600/P1130242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHK4D_-Cv3EMvGlN8ZlCRliY9gFr9GbBD3T5cQP1Le2zadQFqYYC24zrhSiXL7QjjqSc8OEwmfntRc29wyzgtk6v8Qzk83qkyYL4IDoI1mmLQfbw1UxNu-RYpeExysQJcJVApFsC7ncxHM/s640/P1130242.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Providencia Neighborhood of Santiago</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrGIykHOu4X1J6DeEd42RCAk_nQRoOAKiNOfbFMCJwTMYtt9WLRUWSmAsFIjsS_nO-lrlCBSZsAxExlNyKWg5SyM3Q9WU_62zmJGgqVTWb9sVRgG_mLLwH4n186fYrHTKum7gD4G4FJao/s1600/P1130278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcrGIykHOu4X1J6DeEd42RCAk_nQRoOAKiNOfbFMCJwTMYtt9WLRUWSmAsFIjsS_nO-lrlCBSZsAxExlNyKWg5SyM3Q9WU_62zmJGgqVTWb9sVRgG_mLLwH4n186fYrHTKum7gD4G4FJao/s640/P1130278.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some flowers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The people I was staying with had a party, where I met and
talked with Ivan, the owner of a hostel nearby.
He said that I could move there and begin working, so I did. In exchange for work in the evenings most
days, I lived at the Ventana Sur hostel for a few weeks, which was a fantastic
experience. Unlike most hostels, Ventana
Sur attracts many people looking to live in Santiago, so of the 19 beds, 7 or 8
were usually occupied by people staying for over a week, sometimes over a
month. My sleep schedule quickly became
waking up at noon and falling asleep around 4 or 5 every day, which persisted
until the end of December. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktVoy7dPixpRQjyxVJFT5hnh9riPDs-uzISMd2_01Zus-Uos6OOSIaeToXZV1zpPc5oTqr0ApLnFwpLpqztRFNSiu6v0AZRRn013y8ZxLeZCHBMSOEZA1vEoi8sbrjVOm1-Oe88TGtwOh/s1600/P1130301.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktVoy7dPixpRQjyxVJFT5hnh9riPDs-uzISMd2_01Zus-Uos6OOSIaeToXZV1zpPc5oTqr0ApLnFwpLpqztRFNSiu6v0AZRRn013y8ZxLeZCHBMSOEZA1vEoi8sbrjVOm1-Oe88TGtwOh/s640/P1130301.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have dozens of street-art photos, but I chose this one</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONAM7WkXfF_uZxyr1EgSuGFYhumKtLqIHlAkP4QAnqhMLzH0SepsX_UDotFqkAkUpESeRtJujorKSBcokLK3Bo9Hbw7v5g_SKO8nPVpas-bp0NzS5HuDYVkLwFyAgtOh6gajkv-39yvim/s1600/P1130335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhONAM7WkXfF_uZxyr1EgSuGFYhumKtLqIHlAkP4QAnqhMLzH0SepsX_UDotFqkAkUpESeRtJujorKSBcokLK3Bo9Hbw7v5g_SKO8nPVpas-bp0NzS5HuDYVkLwFyAgtOh6gajkv-39yvim/s640/P1130335.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making STGO BIKE</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJu2I8rFq7R0Hg0RvarDSSE236jtaGVgnquUYMe8BHQF1N302b1GWE3ZtMyHoXz3S3didPviWjYtNXRMe-F8zqHplmVxVBsADLQftLse-nFG18xMMFSMGc3IJU1HeWjPF8aBiCaiqv_all/s1600/P1130326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJu2I8rFq7R0Hg0RvarDSSE236jtaGVgnquUYMe8BHQF1N302b1GWE3ZtMyHoXz3S3didPviWjYtNXRMe-F8zqHplmVxVBsADLQftLse-nFG18xMMFSMGc3IJU1HeWjPF8aBiCaiqv_all/s640/P1130326.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nastasia's place</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggEWoWeIX5fYQ5Kb4cqnYVajR-kKiBCzC_SMItyp-yA4R48Ed8dtZ2lW6Z2aoVEnq793VVJWO7pKMcX7rydfqzD_ilAQGWqVUOeO8H8cQIXGOmqmuBjJPMXkaXIjUnEsEGgmWplP5eVZy/s1600/P1130403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggEWoWeIX5fYQ5Kb4cqnYVajR-kKiBCzC_SMItyp-yA4R48Ed8dtZ2lW6Z2aoVEnq793VVJWO7pKMcX7rydfqzD_ilAQGWqVUOeO8H8cQIXGOmqmuBjJPMXkaXIjUnEsEGgmWplP5eVZy/s640/P1130403.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surrounded by delicious Chilean wine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Coco and Gregg told me over email that they had arrived in
Santiago a few weeks prior and were still there, so I spent many nights where
they were staying at Francesca’s, the apartment of a Chilean girl they had met
a few months back. Always a good time
with lots of people at Fran’s. During
the day, I explored the city by bike, and in my last week in Santiago, I began
recording short clips of cycling through beautiful parks, heavy traffic, past
walls of street-art, and through all the various neighborhoods I could
find. I’ll use my movie-maker when I get
back home to compile a STGO BIKE short film if any motivation still
remains. On one of my descents down the
big Cerro San Cristobal in the middle of the city, I hit a patch of water and
crashed the bike, but thankfully only injured my skin, whew! Unfortunately, I should have been recording
the crash on video, but I accidentally pressed ‘record’ twice at the top of the
hill. Next time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigh8WADs6pox43kkgUc8QEuhZ2ju-IzDlAoD0vLchNSj3pl8OA17zMfFFxQ252HUTUIJMqwqVNC4ozA2q4vo204hi23dZZ5prH2CXDIABulgxVZLrKeCM2aEhAhHylJidPisz0C6IP1ZfH/s1600/P1130377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigh8WADs6pox43kkgUc8QEuhZ2ju-IzDlAoD0vLchNSj3pl8OA17zMfFFxQ252HUTUIJMqwqVNC4ozA2q4vo204hi23dZZ5prH2CXDIABulgxVZLrKeCM2aEhAhHylJidPisz0C6IP1ZfH/s640/P1130377.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh yea, it's that time of year</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMVLXRU-dkkx1JZFFb0mZRLnsrX709NshOU5D8-Hdegmt8BVNe_WPEnZe2zDTN4Om7yNpXJMZd-QuFRIkLXoKMAR0qAQk9V17GEyprWnlxzR-07hQg1E9EBnQ6T4Sdc0DJInJCKK2yHlp/s1600/P1130342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMVLXRU-dkkx1JZFFb0mZRLnsrX709NshOU5D8-Hdegmt8BVNe_WPEnZe2zDTN4Om7yNpXJMZd-QuFRIkLXoKMAR0qAQk9V17GEyprWnlxzR-07hQg1E9EBnQ6T4Sdc0DJInJCKK2yHlp/s640/P1130342.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making STGO BIKE</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qcOehN41q6fZqlNqhO-W_RK1Jzm-MfX7zMG1PLXnWk-QLoPryKrtI9ydRsM-48CvcK1ftjtluGMXFskdQEn-2UgKtNJaETOX5t7IN3UuyRlG0n7aW4hyphenhyphenbP2TLrV1KB-kjAexmfjcBxW-/s1600/P1130266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5qcOehN41q6fZqlNqhO-W_RK1Jzm-MfX7zMG1PLXnWk-QLoPryKrtI9ydRsM-48CvcK1ftjtluGMXFskdQEn-2UgKtNJaETOX5t7IN3UuyRlG0n7aW4hyphenhyphenbP2TLrV1KB-kjAexmfjcBxW-/s640/P1130266.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking out the cemetery with Nastasia and Fanny</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A friend I had met on another trip was living in Santiago,
so with a few of the folks from the hostel, we all went to Valparaiso one
weekend. Valparaiso is a very artsy
port-town near many of Santiago’s closest beaches. On the bus ride over, I had a sudden urge to
change the hostel we had booked for another one that I had heard about from the
folks at Ventana Sur. We arrived at the
new place ‘Planeta Lindo’ and were immediately taken in by good people. After less than one evening in Valpo, Poroto
offered me work and I realized I wanted to relocate here from Santiago, for now
at least. The owner of the hostel is
Poroto (Spanish for bean) and is one of the most chill, friendliest guys
around. Also working at the hostel is
Luke from Colorado, Dave from England, and there was a guy Rafa from here in
Valpo that left for Brasil while I was there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWkA_86fnXfj023DI24kDNgC7NAbLh42fs4M-2pDhKRfdo5OztvY6iiHI7p81t-FOtcMqrj57F-b9N8eqrCNL51ZLl8gaWfzvXlO_r-ev2LzlobpF71IBjZ6VG1eboTS5IVYp_7QdPkuJ/s1600/P1130463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWkA_86fnXfj023DI24kDNgC7NAbLh42fs4M-2pDhKRfdo5OztvY6iiHI7p81t-FOtcMqrj57F-b9N8eqrCNL51ZLl8gaWfzvXlO_r-ev2LzlobpF71IBjZ6VG1eboTS5IVYp_7QdPkuJ/s640/P1130463.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ1NAwkbMu59JaY5bUgp-azDTx0B_UFoOHBc2IjHfFU6_7rg7rbS2A55AlyFpN_oa1F76r2xL__uHuShFcywmYViiIflXLaJyKYtxmveJc0qYDEmwfcjzewuYDk14EhPUDwNeo5jmCDGEA/s1600/P1130515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ1NAwkbMu59JaY5bUgp-azDTx0B_UFoOHBc2IjHfFU6_7rg7rbS2A55AlyFpN_oa1F76r2xL__uHuShFcywmYViiIflXLaJyKYtxmveJc0qYDEmwfcjzewuYDk14EhPUDwNeo5jmCDGEA/s640/P1130515.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCs-4f7G4HmlDs8ZjZNxbBKvUNQCCWvE4piK7GTaBvrFOVntjnY19d2OE-VYfqF2zjLqvi-oBsxSO2EIT9kEup-kEEbzLEtF52CO9tk-QJG3KB6xIAE24yyo_05GImezQPsO-TUes5TOOe/s1600/P1130637.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCs-4f7G4HmlDs8ZjZNxbBKvUNQCCWvE4piK7GTaBvrFOVntjnY19d2OE-VYfqF2zjLqvi-oBsxSO2EIT9kEup-kEEbzLEtF52CO9tk-QJG3KB6xIAE24yyo_05GImezQPsO-TUes5TOOe/s640/P1130637.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up to Cerro Alegre in Valparaiso, Chile</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggeOhjwno0fvSnCstFegm8v1FwOfhDXc7wSu3WtxLdQqb-3eqtBm7jAWtNUsEyUjWHnKrt_dmcEXsrtnkGe919-nCmJrdS21bnaKyjh0IDoGhbdCN9au4A-RfM-rcS3XlzYZuvbJ16vRO9/s1600/P1130642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggeOhjwno0fvSnCstFegm8v1FwOfhDXc7wSu3WtxLdQqb-3eqtBm7jAWtNUsEyUjWHnKrt_dmcEXsrtnkGe919-nCmJrdS21bnaKyjh0IDoGhbdCN9au4A-RfM-rcS3XlzYZuvbJ16vRO9/s640/P1130642.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wicked old electric buses</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYmPPoj2ZpkGSLOM69CP06bUy-NcNR1oD6tuFnW4rV8nQrpdZk_qibgf-VAV4bkUc2lgedIu3angvxR9BmnseFFxtMzQWxpBQLqTqqaWMDUf0cKZkL-Gt-DJFJnyZUf4uKDu6UT_YuqOGi/s1600/P1130669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYmPPoj2ZpkGSLOM69CP06bUy-NcNR1oD6tuFnW4rV8nQrpdZk_qibgf-VAV4bkUc2lgedIu3angvxR9BmnseFFxtMzQWxpBQLqTqqaWMDUf0cKZkL-Gt-DJFJnyZUf4uKDu6UT_YuqOGi/s640/P1130669.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Pablo Neruda's house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I saw a lot of the city, which is built on a steep hill,
making for not a single flat street, and I even found a little hiking trail up
in the forests above the city with a fantastic view out to the Pacific. The beach is right up the coast 20 minutes by
bus so we did that one day; how I missed the ocean! The weather here is a lot like San Francisco,
so there was no swimming to be had, but by the brave. It was a hazy weekend, and one night we all
went to a place Poroto knew about where there was live Reggae several times a
year. The show was located at the end of
the only pier in downtown Valpo, out on the deck above the water – it was incredible. Sunrise even crept up on us a bit when we
were leaving to get munchies. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXjATCVJ6n8duJWxGe1jh53p7PAWVbYRwS24f0whlJMNB7om5gm9pTuL8MxlkEBNDU0jz3yWMa-ztw3b4_Cu8x58HTZ0J7urcPDoCrBj9HEqxSE_0lehwSaAJGnUHukU6NXDctSFdv2Ao/s1600/P1130661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXjATCVJ6n8duJWxGe1jh53p7PAWVbYRwS24f0whlJMNB7om5gm9pTuL8MxlkEBNDU0jz3yWMa-ztw3b4_Cu8x58HTZ0J7urcPDoCrBj9HEqxSE_0lehwSaAJGnUHukU6NXDctSFdv2Ao/s640/P1130661.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Valpo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPORx4UM-jmO9XMvI-wL-OfREw50cWUmJXH2lNkjBdNahVx7zbZma5DEf_knzipdKpf-OMaf1tGBXTR2dJz6JIM6XnxT32-FX7fiPBsC2IG6gKHSeHPsjOcJQ7GsYsrHYjQLZbWJtcWTZq/s1600/P1130665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPORx4UM-jmO9XMvI-wL-OfREw50cWUmJXH2lNkjBdNahVx7zbZma5DEf_knzipdKpf-OMaf1tGBXTR2dJz6JIM6XnxT32-FX7fiPBsC2IG6gKHSeHPsjOcJQ7GsYsrHYjQLZbWJtcWTZq/s640/P1130665.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neruda about Valparaiso: "You never finished combing your hair, life has always surprised you."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I returned to Santiago Monday afternoon, taking it easy and
hanging out with Fran, Yuri, Pablo, and their friends, then packed my stuff on
Tuesday and saw a few museums. I took
care of some last-minute stuff in the city on Wednesday and left for Valpo by
bike after breakfast, which happened to be around 2:30pm… I wanted to take a really obscure route that
went over a mountain pass and dropped me into a National Park, so that’s what I
did. I fought Santiago traffic including
some rich parts and a few ghettos for 3 hours or so until I finally reached
vineyards and eucalyptus groves again.
At one point leaving the city, I felt in one area that if I stopped I’d
be robbed, but I just kept whistling and kept comfortable, trusting in the
city, and everything was fine. I saw
some heavily-laden cycle tourists pass me while I was taking a roadside juice,
but didn’t stop them as I had looked forward to cycling alone for a while
now. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMaWoy5GIkwrsTNYTtIzWASyzPO7D9DN2tJ15X_VVjq1wnRfgHbSHp3DSSV7U02uM5HyYDiKCS7pRTANVVOrOBc08XhOR9T3Nt1qs7deGNyHkZGuGXP73eLq3k3QOnanmkVeSftveqPwX/s1600/P1130762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEMaWoy5GIkwrsTNYTtIzWASyzPO7D9DN2tJ15X_VVjq1wnRfgHbSHp3DSSV7U02uM5HyYDiKCS7pRTANVVOrOBc08XhOR9T3Nt1qs7deGNyHkZGuGXP73eLq3k3QOnanmkVeSftveqPwX/s640/P1130762.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parque O'Higgins, Santiago</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-COVZv_2g2DBSQxA_zXn3ljHWh3jJ47wYqjnweWNSJBL2T3ffsFImjv2cOhQsjwRUs_5eOWYn5SeDXRudYvs1S4Dfu7hOf5SBYQ61eQy3xVUqr-fuYEcgtbghYC3AhVvtjeSyqNc4Ujh/s1600/P1130768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-COVZv_2g2DBSQxA_zXn3ljHWh3jJ47wYqjnweWNSJBL2T3ffsFImjv2cOhQsjwRUs_5eOWYn5SeDXRudYvs1S4Dfu7hOf5SBYQ61eQy3xVUqr-fuYEcgtbghYC3AhVvtjeSyqNc4Ujh/s640/P1130768.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every individual has a right to life, freedom, and personal security</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPTAcnIo-anTGAcbvFPmzsFcapw5Bqj-jgn8f5bez0mAh0btN6oMYeIiBB447vBQfmLyxEtmbF9SY8aIUm5pQwVEBiI2BGYgxOz3GOHodCjzhzfog5U5UyVKF-Zmh5z36-uVWGJBHqpn7/s1600/P1130790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPTAcnIo-anTGAcbvFPmzsFcapw5Bqj-jgn8f5bez0mAh0btN6oMYeIiBB447vBQfmLyxEtmbF9SY8aIUm5pQwVEBiI2BGYgxOz3GOHodCjzhzfog5U5UyVKF-Zmh5z36-uVWGJBHqpn7/s640/P1130790.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chile</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I found a ‘3-star stealth’ (as I’d like to call it) camping spot
in a sheep-grazing area and luckily managed to fall asleep around
midnight. The next morning I met an
Argentinian working in Chile who had a son who cycle-tours, so I think I might
stay at his house and have a barbeque when I get back to Santiago for at least
one night. I climbed up and over the
pass, meeting the cyclists from yesterday at the top, a couple from Buenos
Aires – very cool people. Going down the
hill, I recorded some awesome footage of the crazy curves and scenery, then
rode up to the La Campana National Park.
After some negotiating, I was able to stay for free next to the ranger
station, in place of having to spend 6,000 pesos ($12) just to camp!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOtKGjm9OHyAuD2dr-0XiF-NNwnor6KVx442D_MD86BEsSpUhBhnYWq9NSc0zdlKPt4OyjNVfFW1JXZkOlFR_s-5tRTODF4qruhzs5kADtRzGu8tjQOVDtsqgR_fr6LrkEALu2hN11tQT/s1600/P1130825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOtKGjm9OHyAuD2dr-0XiF-NNwnor6KVx442D_MD86BEsSpUhBhnYWq9NSc0zdlKPt4OyjNVfFW1JXZkOlFR_s-5tRTODF4qruhzs5kADtRzGu8tjQOVDtsqgR_fr6LrkEALu2hN11tQT/s640/P1130825.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cerro La Campana</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkyIi1xB4te3tkXF5Slu_LA5kris0nI_XsOEtgsQyNGZ5DttygyC3IllVePO4owPZiAClt9MKdQe_WpOAJF8vFYeYIBytWRv50bOgld15NEIXtY3NnNdbADUcW2oZgfUX0IZvSpzSXFNU/s1600/P1130849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkyIi1xB4te3tkXF5Slu_LA5kris0nI_XsOEtgsQyNGZ5DttygyC3IllVePO4owPZiAClt9MKdQe_WpOAJF8vFYeYIBytWRv50bOgld15NEIXtY3NnNdbADUcW2oZgfUX0IZvSpzSXFNU/s640/P1130849.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset from the national park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day was one of the longest of my trip, using
exhaustion as a measurement. I woke up
late because an earthquake in the night rocked me awake and I was a bit spooked
to fall back asleep so easily. After
getting all my stuff ready, I started climbing Cerro La Campana, a 6,000ft peak
in the national park. I walked as fast
as I could, knowing I wanted to be in Valparaiso for Friday night and made the
top after a few hours. There were many
biospheres going up, and I got to see the color of lizards change from black to
bright green/blue when I got near the top.
The flowers, types of trees, etc also changed as I got near to the top,
which really reminded me a lot of Mt. Si in Washington as it’s a low-elevation
mountain near a lot of flat land and a big mountain range on opposing sides. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnDqr3RQBeKEQ34pVSb0wIUvaA-80fl7OzXyMeWGLM0jraUzbNzeuso3oW6YXx-tSfp1ZMfJPQj4jwnF_hhTjUBL78x0wMqmyPQCOEcVphedOQvpfeqFv4wqRN3EDd7t_8CW4Yy5zzqbk/s1600/P1130872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnDqr3RQBeKEQ34pVSb0wIUvaA-80fl7OzXyMeWGLM0jraUzbNzeuso3oW6YXx-tSfp1ZMfJPQj4jwnF_hhTjUBL78x0wMqmyPQCOEcVphedOQvpfeqFv4wqRN3EDd7t_8CW4Yy5zzqbk/s640/P1130872.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNAtitaVb0Mk6T2F347k_Ag6SeNzx8XjLuIHSDFIkAI3ToIJ-InaDfkggSTs_vNGPn9EHah3CAMrgwrBLvb6KaRgsMP0ETNQsNQIYwXdrCR1UJ6mv-WEpsB5RceA0gVB_5r8GQPk-hpGm/s1600/P1130884.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFNAtitaVb0Mk6T2F347k_Ag6SeNzx8XjLuIHSDFIkAI3ToIJ-InaDfkggSTs_vNGPn9EHah3CAMrgwrBLvb6KaRgsMP0ETNQsNQIYwXdrCR1UJ6mv-WEpsB5RceA0gVB_5r8GQPk-hpGm/s640/P1130884.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the top</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZumEFmW327KntWI_zSUVDnfQ49gPHzYO0IsoJFgXuCAQ9ZaDdxkbax-T8n1EOnq37hfTQ64B7fgqnMHlQBh5SR-YMiz78JQcL8FxfUQ2J5I8QG4o8q4Cb3h9cqOHqIiDLu0iQL0L0h3h/s1600/P1130905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWZumEFmW327KntWI_zSUVDnfQ49gPHzYO0IsoJFgXuCAQ9ZaDdxkbax-T8n1EOnq37hfTQ64B7fgqnMHlQBh5SR-YMiz78JQcL8FxfUQ2J5I8QG4o8q4Cb3h9cqOHqIiDLu0iQL0L0h3h/s640/P1130905.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. Blue Lizard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I met some cool people at the summit, and then started down,
making it back to the bike by 4:30, where I quickly switched gears, changing
shoes, shorts, packing my panniers, etc and I left. I cycled hard towards the coast and down to
Valparaiso, stopping once to pick up some empanadas. I hit the ocean and followed the boardwalk
down through the evening and arrived at Planeta Lindo around 9pm, where the
magic started. I thought that after a
10-mile hike up a mile-high mountain and 70km of cycling in rolling hills would
do me in, I was wrong. We all went out
around midnight to a rooftop house-converted-club that allows you to bring your
own – whatever you’re consuming – and went crazy. I’ll just say, it was a beautiful sunrise
from the hostel terrace and I really never went to bed – just kind of floated
through Saturday in a haze. <o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQfABQAFT1-dGak7bSTDYKSurpLyr7iyfOxUH4XLVEgHXmHE0edyrTefE-da63o7bVx9yG2ynFD6LOB8lm-QT4_dtyaQlXex-XSGAIu9MhxY3jiEjONKV-_6k-fRm8iu6w1DPnGUhO6Za/s1600/P1130975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQfABQAFT1-dGak7bSTDYKSurpLyr7iyfOxUH4XLVEgHXmHE0edyrTefE-da63o7bVx9yG2ynFD6LOB8lm-QT4_dtyaQlXex-XSGAIu9MhxY3jiEjONKV-_6k-fRm8iu6w1DPnGUhO6Za/s640/P1130975.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After six months, the Pacific again</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RgTRqeUT2Uc-L2S4xq4c6FTVaI89MCoY9femgXy44wDJZxf-PEq4GriGtxVpxx77qqmPYahlmyWIA-idefvJOrEPAaSVmeEYfJTvqy61Ulu3hcIf_WwnA81BZMzIlrOuZgOce_gCfkQx/s1600/P1130981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8RgTRqeUT2Uc-L2S4xq4c6FTVaI89MCoY9femgXy44wDJZxf-PEq4GriGtxVpxx77qqmPYahlmyWIA-idefvJOrEPAaSVmeEYfJTvqy61Ulu3hcIf_WwnA81BZMzIlrOuZgOce_gCfkQx/s640/P1130981.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coming up on Viña del Mar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
VALPARAISO (early December to ???):</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started working at the hostel the next day, and a few days
later Poroto gave me my own room in his big antique house down the street! Luke and I have a lot in common so we’re
always walking around or getting into some kind of trouble. Dave is a vegetarian cook and has tons of
incredible music, so we also have tons in common. Being at the hostel seems to be what we all
love to do, hanging out with the people, taking them on walking tours around
the city and showing them the local nightlife…
Poroto has lived here his whole life and so knows the city well, from
parks to cultural centers, to nature sites, to the best secret nightlife. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSoeq3fee4OO1Mq0ciqEU0uEVU2jmvqdA6srou-5Pd6BoHs64N9KKW6hIl7JRZd7K-YrddGmTul-cXngQnP3udF_XSauQs1icMUp0SnoeKXMqCc0copjkFymeLWujdi0zfBbVCoCRD655d/s1600/P1140065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSoeq3fee4OO1Mq0ciqEU0uEVU2jmvqdA6srou-5Pd6BoHs64N9KKW6hIl7JRZd7K-YrddGmTul-cXngQnP3udF_XSauQs1icMUp0SnoeKXMqCc0copjkFymeLWujdi0zfBbVCoCRD655d/s640/P1140065.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Cerro Concepcion, Valpo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEHKjhqxXke5vTMDZBowysXRVqOVpSbnlS2f3PQM2aKxT6K_j7dBEDfWgFfDrTUH5oMgT4DF0sZ3gcI23xhkFRbeSrFvIArixYNktw2vE9kHx5OogSp6wRCmrqop87GcksJbPvcVoftxz/s1600/P1140002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFEHKjhqxXke5vTMDZBowysXRVqOVpSbnlS2f3PQM2aKxT6K_j7dBEDfWgFfDrTUH5oMgT4DF0sZ3gcI23xhkFRbeSrFvIArixYNktw2vE9kHx5OogSp6wRCmrqop87GcksJbPvcVoftxz/s640/P1140002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where it all happens - Planeta Lindo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4EBPsq2SqoKxyv9V7w-TufJRtAf04_JWGeeCuQ3lmNmqBrjFfMjhL3YSsObyXL9qRxvQa-kegfl0LeIiga3HVRsHXEDmTR4J2HiFC4kIWIp8Ubx3yAkK4JZQ4TXBEHb0hhK0ato4EaA5/s1600/P1140003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4EBPsq2SqoKxyv9V7w-TufJRtAf04_JWGeeCuQ3lmNmqBrjFfMjhL3YSsObyXL9qRxvQa-kegfl0LeIiga3HVRsHXEDmTR4J2HiFC4kIWIp8Ubx3yAkK4JZQ4TXBEHb0hhK0ato4EaA5/s640/P1140003.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liam from BC</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Life in Valparaiso for the last two weeks has been a lot of not sleeping, good times with friends here, always doing something fun and/or sitting on the terrace jamming out. Poroto gave me a room in his house down the hill, though I usually only use it for sleeping and am always at the hostel hanging out with the people staying here. I try to go on a walk or bike ride most days as to not let 4pm hit, which is the point at which I know I will spend the rest of my day and night on the terrace at the hostel or out with hostel folk.</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDmCN0L1FmlDFuBt51AGrT05feQkXcG8FCPGmna800YyEvzoufVLj34POW9Dh9T0DR1onVxu2c7y0_YB0d8PfVM1AWMtMwyuCHH2J_EsgYCFPYygbtoulz7dR5BHBZRCaHBk7HMw_RoZ5/s1600/P1140008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDmCN0L1FmlDFuBt51AGrT05feQkXcG8FCPGmna800YyEvzoufVLj34POW9Dh9T0DR1onVxu2c7y0_YB0d8PfVM1AWMtMwyuCHH2J_EsgYCFPYygbtoulz7dR5BHBZRCaHBk7HMw_RoZ5/s640/P1140008.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Reñaca</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0euRFYiPEiN0Np0HBURMD9eGA-DxIF14_qGY_aVYEhkQPZjZiUE8mWEZklCN00eVtYJydg28aTaq83OdGarHlI7wG7MJNdOOBuklHdvpGMWs9x4ruUrzsv70cAeILZ_Mw35z-iD1OaZ7/s1600/P1140016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh0euRFYiPEiN0Np0HBURMD9eGA-DxIF14_qGY_aVYEhkQPZjZiUE8mWEZklCN00eVtYJydg28aTaq83OdGarHlI7wG7MJNdOOBuklHdvpGMWs9x4ruUrzsv70cAeILZ_Mw35z-iD1OaZ7/s640/P1140016.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beach</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9N7bwLl0MJtQeAUO6nMaX4I-4NRoIKHamPsgRnuabUM3OPDfhEdjbX5gSrBo-rjGaPKOIUm6NYkdnZFmUTwDFlvUgJMmRYTpBqKgVn9wzSBmfdxDrxLeWlnFNZsGYLzy5kibaCQ0z6Ocd/s1600/P1140053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9N7bwLl0MJtQeAUO6nMaX4I-4NRoIKHamPsgRnuabUM3OPDfhEdjbX5gSrBo-rjGaPKOIUm6NYkdnZFmUTwDFlvUgJMmRYTpBqKgVn9wzSBmfdxDrxLeWlnFNZsGYLzy5kibaCQ0z6Ocd/s640/P1140053.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Hostel is the pink place on the right corner</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It’s great to just go down to the beach in Viña del Mar or walk around the cerros of the city. Cerros (hills) are the names given to the neighborhoods in Valparaiso as each is atop a different hill and thus changes dramatically in between. The hostel is on Cerro Alegre and the house on the more popular Cerro Concepcion. I went for a few long day bike rides to other nearby towns, beaches, or mountains nearby, but the city itself is pretty impossible to get around by bike as all the hills are insanely steep and made of cobblestone. </div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NYHxmCGNMwTRyG47xYF5lOzKOyXWlp-Ukus7Ps1hIFPD8zVJBSC7CMHSATde1HZ7iJEK561rO1Di5ldsbn7dIu6cD12J6lrN4IfYhV3TuJEMHYaGzBs6RJZ7m0htYdPBfN6DhhKZYlSK/s1600/P1140024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3NYHxmCGNMwTRyG47xYF5lOzKOyXWlp-Ukus7Ps1hIFPD8zVJBSC7CMHSATde1HZ7iJEK561rO1Di5ldsbn7dIu6cD12J6lrN4IfYhV3TuJEMHYaGzBs6RJZ7m0htYdPBfN6DhhKZYlSK/s640/P1140024.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding around cities with Luke</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAXqFu-Mz5TE7sIA5ApZZgIQXNtAI6xzJvkTHZk4oWADoFXfdrsiR05EL-R98xap8jtoJsJ62LVO5RoytSkbYWImpwZA4DP9pMGMRrGP4Kb5C8W7403X1pEbI84nHdPFJ_k5HOPitEyUw/s1600/P1140049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAXqFu-Mz5TE7sIA5ApZZgIQXNtAI6xzJvkTHZk4oWADoFXfdrsiR05EL-R98xap8jtoJsJ62LVO5RoytSkbYWImpwZA4DP9pMGMRrGP4Kb5C8W7403X1pEbI84nHdPFJ_k5HOPitEyUw/s640/P1140049.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Terrace Times</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOZ6BGRLza6YolXPWs28Gc3YNmysx3X4lPhkp137AbA3g1Jz6HtXo2ECnx_vEvG4RcnJvuPMnvns5U9SOjfkOBv8hQlyLDDqngkHEOvgsK-UuKPcjE8vQT6deVdeiR4Wu9BqskyA5i5jR/s1600/P1140058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtOZ6BGRLza6YolXPWs28Gc3YNmysx3X4lPhkp137AbA3g1Jz6HtXo2ECnx_vEvG4RcnJvuPMnvns5U9SOjfkOBv8hQlyLDDqngkHEOvgsK-UuKPcjE8vQT6deVdeiR4Wu9BqskyA5i5jR/s640/P1140058.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BANKSY</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EyeRKGUwsP1kzXaO4e16_0QLPxBPtJeFsFgYFxPVSwP84iSj1i7oE0oxm_MBGI3iOyl9JCfyXJt8SyR8HXGuLiuyf95XELv84-dJsmFbHlgoq5WsM_8yHRQpTBvOxZLVK39VyOyUJrbp/s1600/P1140061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EyeRKGUwsP1kzXaO4e16_0QLPxBPtJeFsFgYFxPVSwP84iSj1i7oE0oxm_MBGI3iOyl9JCfyXJt8SyR8HXGuLiuyf95XELv84-dJsmFbHlgoq5WsM_8yHRQpTBvOxZLVK39VyOyUJrbp/s640/P1140061.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Valpo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The relationship Poroto, Luke, Dave, and I have is really close, always having ‘hostel meetings’ to jam on the drums/guitar/piano or have a round of Fifa (soccer video game). Music is always playing somewhere and lots of time gets spent sitting the afternoon away on the front stoop. There is no check-in time, no check-out time, no sign out front, no shifts for us, no ‘duties list’ or something. We just keep the place clean when it looks dirty and take turns sleeping at the hostel at night, because we are otherwise usually there anyway. Whoever hears the doorbell does the check-in and the new guests become a part of the family for however long they stay (which is usually at least double the days they intend to stay).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2_9_hJj2KRgXTt6auMVY8f8zboe3mjP0BkIfwg-YMnbZUXt7aqMmWDfQwHuVIKhC5a42X9CGJV0GNHSwJqp1NObA4tmvTgsGYfvTHZXjLxg8OCWk4VHYs6ORsnGVo1CpgQhjOfYl8P6s/s1600/P1140108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA2_9_hJj2KRgXTt6auMVY8f8zboe3mjP0BkIfwg-YMnbZUXt7aqMmWDfQwHuVIKhC5a42X9CGJV0GNHSwJqp1NObA4tmvTgsGYfvTHZXjLxg8OCWk4VHYs6ORsnGVo1CpgQhjOfYl8P6s/s640/P1140108.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poroto getting the hostel bar ready</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U-CjL_tojVb2-TwHCKoFvXuWlUWaq7xHLah2I7erGKkN9apCG4DrPnLL8nk5P3_gQGYpCRlkgHE-kmld0vsQLrZrubuBhCMizskuQ2lEKSaJkwt1Fiwh4JZb3bTaBush_iNONSIwAGcJ/s1600/P1140114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U-CjL_tojVb2-TwHCKoFvXuWlUWaq7xHLah2I7erGKkN9apCG4DrPnLL8nk5P3_gQGYpCRlkgHE-kmld0vsQLrZrubuBhCMizskuQ2lEKSaJkwt1Fiwh4JZb3bTaBush_iNONSIwAGcJ/s640/P1140114.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eduardo, who sometimes comes and plays guitar with us</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Poroto is a really incredible person – he is relaxed about
everything and is positive about everything in life, strongly believing in the
law of attraction which he implements in his hostel by not having a sign, by
always keeping extra beds available should someone want to stay longer,
etc. He doesn’t like money so shares it
with people who need it in the city; he would rather lose some potential money
than to let in someone aggressive or sketchy, unlike most hostels. He keeps everyone at the hostel smiling and
is very trusting of us, knowing we’re all good people. He even offered me his pickup truck to use
when I was thinking about going to Viña del Mar. I know that when I leave Valparaiso, it will
be a ‘see you later’ kind of goodbye with a lot of the people I met here. And for now, I am living in the now, excited
for Christmas and New Years! I’ll send a
Christmas blog, so keep an eye out for it, Chow!<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-69360365230563064342013-11-10T12:49:00.000-08:002013-12-18T13:11:58.994-08:00October 10 - November 10: San Juan to Uspallata, Argentina<div class="MsoNormal">
Hey friends and followers, I promise to keep this blog
shorter than the last one! For those of
you who read my last blog, you saw that I was beginning the third chapter of my
trip. Now a month in, I have learned so
much about myself, it’s tough to explain.
For years, I have dreamed of cycling without ties, stopping wherever I
please and leaving when I wish. When we
arrived in the San Juan area, we only had one contact as I mentioned in my
previous blog: Miguel. We waited at that gas station on the
outskirts of town until after dark for someone we had just met to come pick us
up. This could be a great scenario for a
hit horror flick, but for us, it was the beginning of relationships we’d never
forget. <o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Bkc853tcgOuSpZS8CJ9xh_BUprcX9hT_m7VFKEPSZ_sQz_5lyQk6M-HbQLz_WKGYizpirgHChYJykShegkY-kyY_xHjn_u3Q-IjkfIOH1tGysB6X7jO-HP9AHa2TXqvkS7XlRZ6Z6O90/s1600/P1120354.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Bkc853tcgOuSpZS8CJ9xh_BUprcX9hT_m7VFKEPSZ_sQz_5lyQk6M-HbQLz_WKGYizpirgHChYJykShegkY-kyY_xHjn_u3Q-IjkfIOH1tGysB6X7jO-HP9AHa2TXqvkS7XlRZ6Z6O90/s320/P1120354.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miguel and his fiancee Cecelia from Pocito, San Juan, Argentina</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ‘staying until the end of the week’ I mentioned in my
last blog somehow turned into almost three weeks at Miguel’s place in a suburb
of San Juan. We had the run of the house
from day one and made Pocito our home, meeting Miguel’s family, his fiancée and
her family, friends, business-owners, etc.
We even met quite a few strangers I’d easily call my friend. From the folks at the bike shop that hooked
Coco up with tons of free and discounted parts to Miguel and Cecilia’s friends
in town, from the vegetable place to Pablo’s art house, from the bakery near
Miguel’s motorcycle shop to the lounge on the plaza, from the grocery to the cool
sewing shop… It felt like home.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHiXzifzFZ4G0MDNNrKoqLJmsYlYMKTyC-vT3cvUfVMdrmKJ3iLZeU0LwAmA6fnTsVDyAAWvTLfD0Lk6AvZNsHx_Ge9_l0O8xUjpKSJGswc0Cb1eLP8bs9Ey_aika5qrwQgaVhk8g9Yds/s1600/P1120227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHiXzifzFZ4G0MDNNrKoqLJmsYlYMKTyC-vT3cvUfVMdrmKJ3iLZeU0LwAmA6fnTsVDyAAWvTLfD0Lk6AvZNsHx_Ge9_l0O8xUjpKSJGswc0Cb1eLP8bs9Ey_aika5qrwQgaVhk8g9Yds/s640/P1120227.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some friends in San Juan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We got to know their families very well, going to barbeques seemingly
every other day, going to the boliche (club) in San Juan which was a stellar
time, and Miguel’s grandma’s birthday party, poor thing. I taught Coco and Greg a thing or two about
the bikes and they taught me how to make bracelets, dream catchers, necklaces,
and other cool art. One day we went to
San Juan for a pay-by-weight vegetarian restaurant and ended up meeting some
awesome local medical students. We set
up Miguel’s inflatable pool in the back garden one day and seemed to throw one
another in, clothes and all, more often than simply deciding to go for a
swim. Some nights a lot of Miguel and Cecilia’s friends
came over and we played guitar and made light-art, drinking the national Argentine
drink, Fernet and Coke until the wee hours.
I took the opportunity of our resting to really hit the Spanish hard and
learned a few tenses more or less plus tons of phrases whose translations make
no sense in English. Coco, Gregg and I
watched the last few episodes of Breaking Bad, officially making it the only
show of which I have seen every episode, so incredible. We almost got Heisenberg tattoos (the main
character of the show), which would have been a pretty cool life-mistake. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjadvHd82lV7byPzgaPi-d_aPZqLTs4AoDxIqtHOBrynOPC7w7Ui9EB4U0H8f7opDFOt1UHVF5788J3997Wg7UmPw2ZB2ZAXlwpFokNcKz2Bw_ziiN-hwXnSr7aCx41uFoKlDLBr3u1UjWT/s1600/P1120294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjadvHd82lV7byPzgaPi-d_aPZqLTs4AoDxIqtHOBrynOPC7w7Ui9EB4U0H8f7opDFOt1UHVF5788J3997Wg7UmPw2ZB2ZAXlwpFokNcKz2Bw_ziiN-hwXnSr7aCx41uFoKlDLBr3u1UjWT/s640/P1120294.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pool time with Coco and Gregg...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Miguel owns a motorcycle shop about 8km from his house and
he recently changed locations so we helped him set up and paint the shop,
though there was typically less painting and more joking around with his
friends. His sister and he run a
clothing shop a few doors down that I often went to for Mate. Miguel gave us all clothing to wear around
town from his the business, which was a nice change from all our ragged cycling
garments. I gave him my cycling jersey
and he gave me one of his with ‘Pocito’ on the front, so I’ll never forget the
place. To summarize the days we spent
there, it was relaxing, but felt like real-life, not traveling, making
relationships, sharing stories, learning every bad word in Argentinian Spanish
(gracias Miguel, culiado).. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh728ZQJd9qpXo6TspzMkleo22VHpDTr3luwGKwBDIoWhz6DommAswRo2ptSlwWYIe2BWlorAhtV1S6Nio2IK5IzmdLbLj1vrMDjJ9W0mQxC7A428rhvqpYV-OaD2_JRKF0SOyJsFb5DIfN/s1600/P1120387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh728ZQJd9qpXo6TspzMkleo22VHpDTr3luwGKwBDIoWhz6DommAswRo2ptSlwWYIe2BWlorAhtV1S6Nio2IK5IzmdLbLj1vrMDjJ9W0mQxC7A428rhvqpYV-OaD2_JRKF0SOyJsFb5DIfN/s640/P1120387.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miguel and his sister's clothing shop in Aberstain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As with all my trips, I come to a point where I simply feel
like not cycling anymore, yet after over two weeks and only 100 in-town kilometers
on the bike, I was antsy to get going – we all were. On the day we were supposed to leave, a huge
sandstorm whipped up, not allowing us to leave.
I won’t go into detail, but the night before we had originally intended to
leave wasn’t a great one, so we got to end on a high note after the wind died
down the following day. It was a bittersweet
moment leaving Pocito, Miguel, and Cecilia, but I know I will be back someday,
if not for the wedding next year. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrLp1VTcENzD-hU5Gmlpb37xnC5Dw6IfSyqRqpTfMtakdP2Q9Z0g7bmDUgv1uC29cEyBJQse4SQT2Tk4SKdv2vH7saDCZ_GwmzB3NO7KI-B-P5Foj6lj5PWABwF1gu5VSi0ng1Wx9oP6K/s1600/P1120231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglrLp1VTcENzD-hU5Gmlpb37xnC5Dw6IfSyqRqpTfMtakdP2Q9Z0g7bmDUgv1uC29cEyBJQse4SQT2Tk4SKdv2vH7saDCZ_GwmzB3NO7KI-B-P5Foj6lj5PWABwF1gu5VSi0ng1Wx9oP6K/s640/P1120231.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ceci's light-art</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia16a3ZOi6Xz3DKiULG4M6Zf2TH5ZCoYv1OG3M2RjXHZD8Xb8IRYyEn4lkbjnHxkZsJI7-1EiIAoR8eqoVbjgq6tgk8oSHjYsk691ob1nr4frHBWX2Y4jPKaSu8S5hMV9FgBfrmHAAF6TC/s1600/P1120371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia16a3ZOi6Xz3DKiULG4M6Zf2TH5ZCoYv1OG3M2RjXHZD8Xb8IRYyEn4lkbjnHxkZsJI7-1EiIAoR8eqoVbjgq6tgk8oSHjYsk691ob1nr4frHBWX2Y4jPKaSu8S5hMV9FgBfrmHAAF6TC/s640/P1120371.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The occasional day-trip into the San Juan city centre</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Back on the bike after weeks of not cycling was…
tiring. After 50km of headwind, Greg’s
front wheel bearings took a crap on everyone, forcing us to hitchhike the
remaining 100km to Mendoza. It felt a
little strange as the last time I used motor-power to advance my trip was
between Lima and Cusco in Peru back in June, but I’m not a ‘purist’, I’m Kurt
and I really don’t care. The people we
hitchhiked with were these cool gypsy brothers who owned a vegetable pick-up
truck and went around selling vegetables and other unmentionables. I stuffed myself on top of the cab where one
of their beds is, Coco was tucked in the bed of the truck under some slanted boards
and Gregg sat up front with them. They
passed around stuff to share including a banana, which is a first for me. I like sharing, don’t get me wrong, but it’s
what Argentinians do best – whether it be a sandwich or a banana. The road blazed by in a haze, the great Andes
and Aconcagua came into view through a rip in the tarp up top where I sat and
through this rip I also saw the brothers bribe the police with leftover fruit
for reasons I could only imagine. A few
times we had to stop because apparently the engine-hood blew up in the wind,
which I am glad to have not seen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmwuWDLZpNOdhLGwo5MV1_RMqTsVqgTKYLMyiE-C-pC3lBsF_kUiA3QPB2DQDFXES-XgG9ViszbXeweWXoVJRy3YO4Z4a9PdZZqDOsjZBt5BgXm1HbN9PhsSE5HfglRSrfi-KWVzMkd9h/s1600/P1120393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmwuWDLZpNOdhLGwo5MV1_RMqTsVqgTKYLMyiE-C-pC3lBsF_kUiA3QPB2DQDFXES-XgG9ViszbXeweWXoVJRy3YO4Z4a9PdZZqDOsjZBt5BgXm1HbN9PhsSE5HfglRSrfi-KWVzMkd9h/s640/P1120393.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hitching a ride with the gypsy brothers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In Mendoza, we fixed the bike and found a hostel near the
center, making it the third hostel I’ve stayed in since mid-August in
Uyuni. We fell asleep early, woke up at
1am, and went out until sunrise. During
the day, we went fuzzily to the huge park near the center, where there’s a
running track, big forests and meadows, a lake, etc. For the all-too-short time we spent in
Mendoza, I found that it is quite an attractive city where I wouldn’t mind
passing a few weeks or months. On
Saturday though, we left in the direction of Chile via an alternate dirt road, after
making the decision that taking the highway wouldn’t be very fun with all the
traffic. The first day we covered only
30km before finding a decent place to camp, but on the second day we entered a National
Reserve and began climbing endlessly up dirt switchbacks, each turn opening a
new and inspiring view. I rode ahead to
the rhythms of Beach House and Red Hot Chili Peppers, cranking away until I
found a really beautiful place to camp on the hillside. I waited for Gregg and Coco to confirm the
spot but knew they’d love it. Up nearly
5,000 feet above the valley, we perched our tents on a flat ridge with a
stunning view, especially of the sunrise.
We had a grand ol’ night running around, re-enacting war scenes, and philosophizing
our travels.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ahmePHW8YjLC9OWaQkBs4OmFVuiTOwIZkDyFX3isTtQeUHQvdtNp3qM03Hgs1j77zMlmzW3RoUpy0yMVBxgaVjTgS9DlJYMn9f4aV5TnabIAdNK8g2fKt6vzm2rgNuIDWPoPNU2XDL7Y/s1600/P1120408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ahmePHW8YjLC9OWaQkBs4OmFVuiTOwIZkDyFX3isTtQeUHQvdtNp3qM03Hgs1j77zMlmzW3RoUpy0yMVBxgaVjTgS9DlJYMn9f4aV5TnabIAdNK8g2fKt6vzm2rgNuIDWPoPNU2XDL7Y/s640/P1120408.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mendoza</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwL99VALdLIieO_8hN8ZxSjyJrurvlnkmKOsf9mb_yYZCYREZM7jxdMU99jIRhVQUzwzrl_X3wn3J3axWrLL_3lHX91B4tYBnV_Z5roquBjBUAXrPlY3XvVR_sp3adZGVkiDWIGvM9qGi/s1600/P1120448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwL99VALdLIieO_8hN8ZxSjyJrurvlnkmKOsf9mb_yYZCYREZM7jxdMU99jIRhVQUzwzrl_X3wn3J3axWrLL_3lHX91B4tYBnV_Z5roquBjBUAXrPlY3XvVR_sp3adZGVkiDWIGvM9qGi/s640/P1120448.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading up towards the Andes again</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The road continued to climb, topping out around 9,000ft,
giving us our first glimpses of Aconcagua in front of us, the highest mountain
in the Western Hemisphere, nearly 2,000 feet higher than Denali in Alaska and
only 7,000ft lower than Everest. We
descended down into Uspallata and found a campground a few kilometers from the
center to pass the night. Well one night
turned into two, which turned into three, which somehow turned into another two
weeks for me. Victor, the guy who runs
the campground offered me a room and food in exchange for a few hours of work a
day. Coco, Gregg and I had traveled
together for nearly 6 weeks and felt we had reached a good point in our trip
together to go our separate ways. With
tons of climbing and hiking literally next to Victor’s property and some cool
projects to work on, I stayed and Coco/Gregg left to Santiago.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwLu0JaKTdZK6OZ_4swVOjwVehQ-Da5mUd-goiykzmuIvovkyfoCjh0CiQGe6d6NHhLumWSFhoZDNRvo5_y-ofQ9EWT_gDK0nTExdB54q9KSpaC4PS_kuw-8rWvckS2veFKmw_oJpnBcj/s1600/P1120553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwLu0JaKTdZK6OZ_4swVOjwVehQ-Da5mUd-goiykzmuIvovkyfoCjh0CiQGe6d6NHhLumWSFhoZDNRvo5_y-ofQ9EWT_gDK0nTExdB54q9KSpaC4PS_kuw-8rWvckS2veFKmw_oJpnBcj/s640/P1120553.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few days out of Mendoza</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbpIK0aqABEU3ik7kuIGaJLtMu8jK6gkdo75KO3b65rRvVMi4sZ7PAU-BkM4NICopS-1AbcTIp616LwF_C-AUgzqxCvNirOViaW-1LkUEu9-xiqoXM7quYxdjyVuyWjVVG5JdSQEtZ-Sz/s1600/P1120584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbpIK0aqABEU3ik7kuIGaJLtMu8jK6gkdo75KO3b65rRvVMi4sZ7PAU-BkM4NICopS-1AbcTIp616LwF_C-AUgzqxCvNirOViaW-1LkUEu9-xiqoXM7quYxdjyVuyWjVVG5JdSQEtZ-Sz/s640/P1120584.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco gettin it</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnn7JsS_lc8lPXkNrGf5Z_pC2IlfytRGhkR0Nbj_FkFigLAYwO7EaY4QS-9kEkIECEaNT2prZQcjSYH1G1SbaYfAa86OEZd8NwDQzvcKBupySgPlLstV0MbKJrnz2yUjN1JJ4Y0YKcLMm/s1600/P1120536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSnn7JsS_lc8lPXkNrGf5Z_pC2IlfytRGhkR0Nbj_FkFigLAYwO7EaY4QS-9kEkIECEaNT2prZQcjSYH1G1SbaYfAa86OEZd8NwDQzvcKBupySgPlLstV0MbKJrnz2yUjN1JJ4Y0YKcLMm/s640/P1120536.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco, Gregg, and I</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Uspallata is a town of perhaps 5,000 inhabitants, set in a
desert valley between low-elevation canyonlands/vertical walls and very high
(17,000-22,000ft) snowy peaks. The town
has a river that is irrigated, giving it a lush green setting with lots of tall,
thin Alamo trees, farms, and horse ranches.
The ‘downtown’ itself is just one street really, with everything you
need (except soy products, Argentina se puede anda cagar), and I managed to find
peanut butter for the first time since Sucre, Bolivia. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuGwA9PX9f9dIVP5uVQWKVohjhffyRPOp2PK42JNCHyGmcYJKHxA7cWB2lmDVtzR0eoO-vY_2SdAPQEBldqeKvV6q0iggjxVBC1uLGwfX7SAooIngszznED6JGI8-E6IGCOU3sUe72EbH/s1600/P1120683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuGwA9PX9f9dIVP5uVQWKVohjhffyRPOp2PK42JNCHyGmcYJKHxA7cWB2lmDVtzR0eoO-vY_2SdAPQEBldqeKvV6q0iggjxVBC1uLGwfX7SAooIngszznED6JGI8-E6IGCOU3sUe72EbH/s640/P1120683.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out front of my new residence for a few weeks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-Frg2fsvLJo5vkAdRWGfTTgOtnHo3i_W2M6XT6OcAbt97hI_wyhk0Q7ZhHqdUUkZ2fi8v7obG2h1XcR0Ty-QiUzrNtvkjyXVTV3IAp1_ltTMr4UASsI1IvI6YKWn3msB1cBqRLvU7F2-/s1600/P1120765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-Frg2fsvLJo5vkAdRWGfTTgOtnHo3i_W2M6XT6OcAbt97hI_wyhk0Q7ZhHqdUUkZ2fi8v7obG2h1XcR0Ty-QiUzrNtvkjyXVTV3IAp1_ltTMr4UASsI1IvI6YKWn3msB1cBqRLvU7F2-/s640/P1120765.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uspallata sunsets</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9E6v_4jGGqGyvdjKDLWDLUPEUjn_GRuLXtTQs0XxpMj0KdWXfNe_c2sl6RVu74EETTybuwJKE_VxKQOe3gPZ3ejm7o-LX3ysUtFyuRmzYtvRpeCaaoM8s32gl3naEOlbaKU7xbs-NNf3c/s1600/P1120823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9E6v_4jGGqGyvdjKDLWDLUPEUjn_GRuLXtTQs0XxpMj0KdWXfNe_c2sl6RVu74EETTybuwJKE_VxKQOe3gPZ3ejm7o-LX3ysUtFyuRmzYtvRpeCaaoM8s32gl3naEOlbaKU7xbs-NNf3c/s640/P1120823.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uspallata valley</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-fTqcxowmPzNbQX2xdAhOLAH3GklVAo9vGn2RW3w5V9TdbCedl11IjUbJez0TzBPOVgpydiYsXuo3E4rN569AjSxx1xthv7CQyxfQFNRg4esnen3P6naXXzq7h6zDj-lfVzwHutFIhJ7O/s1600/P1120958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-fTqcxowmPzNbQX2xdAhOLAH3GklVAo9vGn2RW3w5V9TdbCedl11IjUbJez0TzBPOVgpydiYsXuo3E4rN569AjSxx1xthv7CQyxfQFNRg4esnen3P6naXXzq7h6zDj-lfVzwHutFIhJ7O/s640/P1120958.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out with the mutts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3XNrpTXhcQ37sRuQG2gcNFL7Cp6FiEXrIsZy5IzBjwdlILgAkrbNr7x445I0WooSPMYjjpYLojfHqTmAygaZQhLfLsL41Pdyg3i5FOpNSSf720IBVHMN3O6esK9jXHq6zOBNU3vFhwqV/s1600/P1120715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3XNrpTXhcQ37sRuQG2gcNFL7Cp6FiEXrIsZy5IzBjwdlILgAkrbNr7x445I0WooSPMYjjpYLojfHqTmAygaZQhLfLsL41Pdyg3i5FOpNSSf720IBVHMN3O6esK9jXHq6zOBNU3vFhwqV/s640/P1120715.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco on a nearby hike</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Victor is a late-60’s expat from South Africa who has been
on the road for almost 40 years. He has
lived in Argentina for 12 years now and doesn’t plan on moving on (unless he
gets caught). He is a very spiritual
person, and is the poster-child of a true conspiracy theorist. Every morning around 5am, I can hear him ‘making
contact with God’, yelling and chanting things in Afrikaans. His camping is 4km from the center on the
empty dirt road we rode in on, making it odd to hear a car go by. There are over 1,000 Alamo trees on the
property and while the morning always brings tons of songbirds, the evening breeze
sings a beautiful tune through the leaves; it’s really nice, yet quite rustic
as well. The nearest drinking water is
3km away, there’s no running water in the house, the toilet is a manual
(flushes with a bucket of water) and the bedroom is pretty dirty; after 200
days of sleeping in the dirt, I don’t use ‘dirty’ lightly. The shower is a weekly affair as it requires
pumping the irrigation ditch for water then building a big fire to heat it up. It’s not uncommon to find spiders the size of
tarantulas crawling around the walls.
The work I am helping Victor with is really meditative for me. I’ve felled dead trees, which I’ve used to
help build a roof, collect firewood for the cold days, learned a little bit of
carpentry and plumbing, re-dug and maintained a few of the irrigation ditches, dug
and erected a flagpole, learned how to cook a few things, and lots of other smaller
projects. It seems daunting, but in
reality, we drink more local wine than work, talking about all the crazy ideas
Victor has and on my spare time, I read or head into town for groceries/wifi. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfm8Z33ZTnPlyiqqq_JvOMpzClXaPJNYnZ_1r6tYmxPc8ra6dpvGwIq6-L87KdPTUqA9RI5ugMImFBxAY7LL1w8OsHZK_dgFDhNi3HnnkIl1LBiCLIal2fSOghxFpS7sqCGwbDRoRk17CC/s1600/P1120953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfm8Z33ZTnPlyiqqq_JvOMpzClXaPJNYnZ_1r6tYmxPc8ra6dpvGwIq6-L87KdPTUqA9RI5ugMImFBxAY7LL1w8OsHZK_dgFDhNi3HnnkIl1LBiCLIal2fSOghxFpS7sqCGwbDRoRk17CC/s640/P1120953.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Victor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDFALjNtONgoL5TCc0wR7hfO9JGMozv-4rSErv3xnFecznbfbTGiAfAAff6ZzuJ0L768QE6HTbTYRej0P_mCTuVnllkpZRinPuHAR_Ymin8NGYBpxONxeNyBKCpgUChsXp6HTGprhoTaN/s1600/P1120834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDFALjNtONgoL5TCc0wR7hfO9JGMozv-4rSErv3xnFecznbfbTGiAfAAff6ZzuJ0L768QE6HTbTYRej0P_mCTuVnllkpZRinPuHAR_Ymin8NGYBpxONxeNyBKCpgUChsXp6HTGprhoTaN/s640/P1120834.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearby hieroglyphs </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JqgOOH3rWFtYw6xG5JGxF4BlqOt6UXvRxK4stAKeLHmgg0nIj67Wu5o475ixBgxE9rYVK3jpGZzsToyhsBPiUBF8NSJhocFsbtpKn-m908OICl9T586a5IxMb3X71BupssFa6pYnqT5P/s1600/P1120877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7JqgOOH3rWFtYw6xG5JGxF4BlqOt6UXvRxK4stAKeLHmgg0nIj67Wu5o475ixBgxE9rYVK3jpGZzsToyhsBPiUBF8NSJhocFsbtpKn-m908OICl9T586a5IxMb3X71BupssFa6pYnqT5P/s640/P1120877.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking near Uspallata</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've seen some cool ancient rock paintings and have gone on a few great hikes, including a big one that had
no trail to follow; it was fun using the compass and land features to find my
way to the summit and back to my bike. I
really want to climb Aconcagua, but can’t get over the grand it costs JUST for
a climbing permit. Even trekking to the
basecamp will run you almost $100 plus food and figuring out a way to stash the
bike. Argentina definitely capitalizes
on its abundant nature, as we saw in the north.
A friend of Victor’s offered me a job as a raft guide, which was very
difficult to decline as I am really eager to see what kind of energy Santiago
has to offer me. I would still like to complete
a Vipassana meditation course while I can, but the one near Santiago in
December is waitlisted. Fingers are
crossed for an opening! After nearly 40
days of resting, including only 4 legitimate days of cycling, we’ll see how
much my fitness has declined as I tackle the high-mountain crossing over to
Chile… As always, thank you for your support
and I’ll see you in Chile!<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-17352448757893881702013-10-10T11:44:00.005-07:002013-12-18T19:08:05.764-08:00September 4 – October 10: San Pedro de Atacama, Chile to San Juan, Argentina<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsOWdbmDhaekUCA7slioLOYulCvm0KQtd7ArzxtuehmLPKp2bdvOjJxjZGbHOVO6Br_1esjL_1d2Y9cd9RpInjuK7nX9s_3Nn0k89IpoXIRIUzIiB9wfCkwUul4RDYUjGFrZ5Vd0kfEYY/s1600/P1100914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsOWdbmDhaekUCA7slioLOYulCvm0KQtd7ArzxtuehmLPKp2bdvOjJxjZGbHOVO6Br_1esjL_1d2Y9cd9RpInjuK7nX9s_3Nn0k89IpoXIRIUzIiB9wfCkwUul4RDYUjGFrZ5Vd0kfEYY/s640/P1100914.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Valle de la Luna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For those of you who read my last blog, you can imagine that
we didn’t do a whole lot in San Pedro other than relax a deep-clean the
bikes. The nature of my trip has changed
quite a bit, and having only paid for indoor accommodation once in over a
month, it’s been difficult to blog and/or have access to the internet. So, thank you for your patience and I have a
ton to share with all of those who wish to listen!<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOEHmqPH3mA7mYdIeGIWnae4f4PayRh0NrSzDeS1HnvDwDHHs-lBXOyihPX_QYu2oR39dlnyk-aqZAN2BbtSr_XM2NIGWSL98BGl4tAPD8pki3sAukfhjNzx7K_P1FXTLcmX86x4Hq0XH/s1600/P1100914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggOEHmqPH3mA7mYdIeGIWnae4f4PayRh0NrSzDeS1HnvDwDHHs-lBXOyihPX_QYu2oR39dlnyk-aqZAN2BbtSr_XM2NIGWSL98BGl4tAPD8pki3sAukfhjNzx7K_P1FXTLcmX86x4Hq0XH/s640/P1100914.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Valle de la Luna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I had mentioned, we met an Australian, Nigel, who left a
few days after we arrived. On his way
back up toward the Argentine border, he met Lukas, a German cyclist heading
down to San Pedro from the Laguna’s Route.
He told Lukas about the hostel we were at, and we all met. As it turns out, I had actually already met
Lukas briefly in Cusco at the end of June.
He had been just on his way out of town.
A few Israeli folks arrived (by bus) and we all had a grand ol’ time
eating veggie empanadas and playing ping-pong, etc. I was out riding around (it’s difficult for
me to not bike for more than a few days) and happened upon an older Polish
cyclist heading north, who decided to check out and stay at our hostel. We all talked bikes for a long time while we
cleaned stoves, patched panniers and clothes, etc. The second-to-last day there we randomly met
an Australian couple and wound up at a local’s hangout watching the Chile vs.
Venezuela soccer game over some decent Chilean beer. Lukas and I walked around town around
midnight in search of some good vibes and found them at a place with live
music. During our last day there, two
Irish folks and a French guy staying at our hostel rented bikes and we all rode
out to the Valle de la Luna, a Utah-esque regional park, walking through caves
and caverns everywhere. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTI66MV06lQT_1iMdfuk3tmJtl7nlM5_VGth837q3m4a9V-x6Ix09NX3VqFpbJmty7Fu6yCiU76P8H-7i7DjMiKh9kn0PKPHjmKZ1IkH1qwSmFbBpHJpH7rMPzUTPiAdxufUgKkV6uedPq/s1600/P1100923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTI66MV06lQT_1iMdfuk3tmJtl7nlM5_VGth837q3m4a9V-x6Ix09NX3VqFpbJmty7Fu6yCiU76P8H-7i7DjMiKh9kn0PKPHjmKZ1IkH1qwSmFbBpHJpH7rMPzUTPiAdxufUgKkV6uedPq/s640/P1100923.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dunes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The whole idea of riding on dirt for another few hundred
kilometers didn’t appeal to Loic or I, so we decided to take the longer,
supposedly more scenic, yet paved way to Argentina and Lukas from Germany
joined us. The three of us rode out of
town, watching the enormous hill we had come down a few days ago grow before
us. With almost 300km until the next
town, we were carrying even more water than when in the Laguna’s Route,
something like 16 liters for me (32 pounds, heavier than my bike). As we began climbing, a lonely truck driver
stopped behind us and struck up conversation, offering us a ride to as far as
Uruguay! Hesitating a bit, we loaded up
the bikes and drove to the turnoff for Bolivia, getting off where we had come
out on the dirt road a few days back.
Normally I wouldn’t be okay with taking a ride, especially up a hill as
it defeats the purpose of having to take the bad things with the good, but we
had already seen all this, so it was okay.
Back at 15,500ft, the road undulated awhile through fields of snow and
looming volcanoes. We found a decent
place to camp and were back to freezing-cold nights…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdzWg4P4z20uivTmW9Wkj8g9bTp-fCkb99zOIArU9_VkQDPucQN1PNdw2cboSBlGNKpJyYAOUCuvnJNGFeMqo9MtObbHJFrKXEC2tVBX-vUv4UxIKOX8r3jnT0qrglNeAd6_iv_hSOtAF/s1600/P1100948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAdzWg4P4z20uivTmW9Wkj8g9bTp-fCkb99zOIArU9_VkQDPucQN1PNdw2cboSBlGNKpJyYAOUCuvnJNGFeMqo9MtObbHJFrKXEC2tVBX-vUv4UxIKOX8r3jnT0qrglNeAd6_iv_hSOtAF/s640/P1100948.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hito Cajon - absolutely nothing there except for a junction<br />
Paso Jama - Our next access to running water<br />
Susques - Our next access to food/gas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11lAqNyE663tq057MlXaYJXG-Xs0m-2x2pkufEqbCmAl4py69mGRCgB7bI5-I-llGsCuUZZjSDFVQuuUAVvN0R4SQ84gbuI2q8U-j6h9Oo_Rq8xzQr0Z0f7bJx637gMQ_uHkgc41c2MRB/s1600/P1100969.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11lAqNyE663tq057MlXaYJXG-Xs0m-2x2pkufEqbCmAl4py69mGRCgB7bI5-I-llGsCuUZZjSDFVQuuUAVvN0R4SQ84gbuI2q8U-j6h9Oo_Rq8xzQr0Z0f7bJx637gMQ_uHkgc41c2MRB/s640/P1100969.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cold up here at almost 16,000ft</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJheZxa_reMoJpmzCeHlkCRzzK7I-83UhllQXgoEYBB3NRlSEKoptJXLrg7LmntfD3NlyLq00ViUMjTVQYROp1sLkVycd6UzS7hxAelROTzw2VzM4m34Uozz4mwA0a54lFp8Q_s4FeqH9g/s1600/P1100985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJheZxa_reMoJpmzCeHlkCRzzK7I-83UhllQXgoEYBB3NRlSEKoptJXLrg7LmntfD3NlyLq00ViUMjTVQYROp1sLkVycd6UzS7hxAelROTzw2VzM4m34Uozz4mwA0a54lFp8Q_s4FeqH9g/s640/P1100985.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From inside the Lukas-View Suite</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next few days were a blur as Lukas is fast and doesn’t
mind letting us draft off him. So we did
three back-to-back 100km+ days in mountainous terrain with long flat valleys
containing big salars and flamingo-filled lakes. We fought a headwind most of the days, but
couldn’t get out early enough in the morning to beat it because the cold. With the exception of our first campsite, every
campsite we had en route to Salta was spectacular. One was next to a Salar, where we watched the
sunset over Chile, one on the edge of a desert cliff, another in a deep, flat
valley, and one hidden in the trees above a lake. Crossing into Argentina was straight-forward,
though it’s unfortunate that Americans now have to pay $160 to enter, as of
June 2013. Landscapes look the same, but
the road no longer has shoulders. This paved
way crossing the Andes has surprisingly no traffic though, which is a nice
treat. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkBouxxFe1j8pCpm45xt2fWJIj7Zmy91vQmD8vujsSr03_fiJpT6RjTC4zBw1M1mro9plgOAm9_gCZa8HSkEw4XFhRHama109rOFJaqktgTu3tU-P117CUCIeOhNXikaHzqNqoEce1_x3f/s1600/P1110007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkBouxxFe1j8pCpm45xt2fWJIj7Zmy91vQmD8vujsSr03_fiJpT6RjTC4zBw1M1mro9plgOAm9_gCZa8HSkEw4XFhRHama109rOFJaqktgTu3tU-P117CUCIeOhNXikaHzqNqoEce1_x3f/s640/P1110007.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cycling on the moon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKoQj7c4C8MbxcHz7kXS72BGBUZp8dUxt_PanQyz0HakOzKMdMkqxC_NLw8wg-lthxH_to2LX8uwUc6qwGG_1RRLRuZ5gnnfA49k4MwlaZDGLGTmqJEUF-oGNl7gQ1C22QGC065lIEsNb3/s1600/P1110039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKoQj7c4C8MbxcHz7kXS72BGBUZp8dUxt_PanQyz0HakOzKMdMkqxC_NLw8wg-lthxH_to2LX8uwUc6qwGG_1RRLRuZ5gnnfA49k4MwlaZDGLGTmqJEUF-oGNl7gQ1C22QGC065lIEsNb3/s640/P1110039.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing into country #28 by bike</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It is really cool to have Lukas around, yet he’s not the
typical structured German cyclist. He is
23, very free-spirited, wields a brightly painted guitar, and meditates for an
hour every morning. He is very in-touch
with himself; he’s always smiling or laughing, and is keen on learning new
things. It adds a nice dynamic having
him around Loic and I. He’s also
vegetarian which will make things easier for me in the cities. After 285km, we reach our first town in
Argentina, which is very Bolivian – dirt streets, mud-brick houses, a general
lack of fresh food, etc. Yet it is
obvious we are in Argentina based on the way the people act. They are very open to others, and understand
what we as traveling cyclists are doing.
We stock up on bread and water and continue another 10km up a really
steep hill to camp. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEW2gLz53X1CYUabNz7wObwwWh_VDMyHy-Fx5I_X5cESHb3-YbfwkGARhL1qb3h0UkEFMzogeD7QVVK7MVJl1ylJ46bQbIZURsDY8hzAcQggl02cymOk1pbGhwFGn_3UBgKp-FWtwEguu/s1600/P1110078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEW2gLz53X1CYUabNz7wObwwWh_VDMyHy-Fx5I_X5cESHb3-YbfwkGARhL1qb3h0UkEFMzogeD7QVVK7MVJl1ylJ46bQbIZURsDY8hzAcQggl02cymOk1pbGhwFGn_3UBgKp-FWtwEguu/s640/P1110078.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Argentinian sunset</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0GBO9id6T9jgYpETU7jsbfL3goU2m64Wc656DSpoKXJtGejxu04SChIb5WsK9OL9pv8HmrII_gbdWethjCbf4h87fx1P7sAo2LEbCXPaIfCiJmMgZ34lEzBYpAr5Ft99Emi20q_xmjMe_/s1600/P1110098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0GBO9id6T9jgYpETU7jsbfL3goU2m64Wc656DSpoKXJtGejxu04SChIb5WsK9OL9pv8HmrII_gbdWethjCbf4h87fx1P7sAo2LEbCXPaIfCiJmMgZ34lEzBYpAr5Ft99Emi20q_xmjMe_/s640/P1110098.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fighting headwind for daaayyys.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyvMNaQTs9lRMJJW6GZjX3KFofrTtOPTz8ctDAjDCeYwYD_ImyJNXmm7Qb9uRNysNvitlqwebVg5F3plB-mPfmNjkKefCiBM6wSRekFHjSjbVWWgyaWY9Ul2Rg1iQ0VtZU01yp73peU02/s1600/P1110111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyvMNaQTs9lRMJJW6GZjX3KFofrTtOPTz8ctDAjDCeYwYD_ImyJNXmm7Qb9uRNysNvitlqwebVg5F3plB-mPfmNjkKefCiBM6wSRekFHjSjbVWWgyaWY9Ul2Rg1iQ0VtZU01yp73peU02/s640/P1110111.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A surprising amount of "dead-horse art" out in these parts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBzijSZ0b_Y1s5z9Jj7jO1Sjnc3cMjMo6Kon2hv4kf7UafBm-dZtp2shTZiDuulK3ji2Tr9dHBVYuyy89qodxEo9FDgKZh0Q3Ld7ni4nUujpfDD4teAGfKCjwabNyTvx6jxl9V8E5f7qV/s1600/P1110171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBzijSZ0b_Y1s5z9Jj7jO1Sjnc3cMjMo6Kon2hv4kf7UafBm-dZtp2shTZiDuulK3ji2Tr9dHBVYuyy89qodxEo9FDgKZh0Q3Ld7ni4nUujpfDD4teAGfKCjwabNyTvx6jxl9V8E5f7qV/s640/P1110171.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Supposedly the starriest sky in the world - I counted 4,868</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Z6lIgQTrfrStSHZaRRO9jRo6oBSxDPCxzDB-m1EN6_39stfXMA6RQOZnOz882AsxMJK9TK66AtuZPEpVIWL7mWqyd5D7o1QogzIUodskDiRpDDlRMdr6OUlA0hjrGo_iqRxDqldxW3Oz/s1600/P1110129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Z6lIgQTrfrStSHZaRRO9jRo6oBSxDPCxzDB-m1EN6_39stfXMA6RQOZnOz882AsxMJK9TK66AtuZPEpVIWL7mWqyd5D7o1QogzIUodskDiRpDDlRMdr6OUlA0hjrGo_iqRxDqldxW3Oz/s640/P1110129.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That last photo caption was half fact, half fiction</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next day, we meet up with Nigel, the Aussie who is
strong, but carries perhaps 150 or 160lbs of stuff, including his bike. We cycle together for some time, but the
three of us really want to sleep at a comfortable altitude, so we push on
without him up our final pass before the 10,000ft decent to Jujuy. The going is tough with headwinds and
water-weight, but I manage the pass and we plunge through dozens of switchbacks
down to 9,000ft before finding an incredible canyon to pass the night in. We make a big, bland celebratory dinner as we
wouldn’t be doing any more legitimate Andes mountain passes for at least a
month or two. I’m back again to not
using a fly on the tent, ahhhh! In the
morning, I try a bit of meditation with Lukas and after packing, we descend
down throughout the day to a hot 4,000ft.
We bypassed Jujuy hearing it was ugly and met up with route 9 going to
another big city, Salta. Normally the
roads between two nearby cities are gross no matter where you are in the world,
but this road was incredible. It
narrowed to a nicely paved one-lane way winding through landscapes that look
like New England, past little lakes and many farms. After a great camp near a lake, we finished
this beautiful road and rode into Salta.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_O3bnKs_Ox-C3md2Lsrv61Xg2YKfejL3uqVXRfTzFVJ3wgAeYsgCQG4rtRRbh7AtmEtlBe-OOUVV0_3n6J33ZoEqZzzPihSF5qJRvxG1XemchqfZmPWESxSphD1qH8pADq4pb9nkTa0t/s1600/P1110165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb_O3bnKs_Ox-C3md2Lsrv61Xg2YKfejL3uqVXRfTzFVJ3wgAeYsgCQG4rtRRbh7AtmEtlBe-OOUVV0_3n6J33ZoEqZzzPihSF5qJRvxG1XemchqfZmPWESxSphD1qH8pADq4pb9nkTa0t/s640/P1110165.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lukas, Loic, and I</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWK004f5Ye7KZp52ERlb2GV_yuYZy8vAbcRRTVQ3W_aWQHbcO48RT0uDQE2iIO5I8eFKelb9fTHIcvc4J2sebfuOXr93uovWRkHd4MnSOAVaO4KmjHDlKj01qVNkpoTwl-o09vbCAi96W/s1600/P1110237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWK004f5Ye7KZp52ERlb2GV_yuYZy8vAbcRRTVQ3W_aWQHbcO48RT0uDQE2iIO5I8eFKelb9fTHIcvc4J2sebfuOXr93uovWRkHd4MnSOAVaO4KmjHDlKj01qVNkpoTwl-o09vbCAi96W/s640/P1110237.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When you start measuring your downhills in days not hours, you know you're in for a treat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqA47psC9CyoYm7mP0jHpfg9CZ_Qqw0tM9BEzQjQKfVLOTsb5iCaM2uLce45IJVyxRT9jLwqDv5gYalu46mRHKjRR21rjf6C4luV18KIU-l7vNqATnDLiy-7kkYIufICCwJ7e9zc3qBRe/s1600/P1110253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqA47psC9CyoYm7mP0jHpfg9CZ_Qqw0tM9BEzQjQKfVLOTsb5iCaM2uLce45IJVyxRT9jLwqDv5gYalu46mRHKjRR21rjf6C4luV18KIU-l7vNqATnDLiy-7kkYIufICCwJ7e9zc3qBRe/s640/P1110253.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All my decent pictures always end up having Lukas changing in them.....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhklB-XoU4-Z-zEsIOwp1Fz7oOVUqA8SqcxZ5z0o8_DUsA_mNnpN6QNIiQrC3II-IcRTj97beVJAEWqvGuPoGbMoRzcjK8UNYYYJF3WdEf4w8brEJKdHR-YTbbiCST5CpI9gClVv-ILxR1/s1600/P1110322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhklB-XoU4-Z-zEsIOwp1Fz7oOVUqA8SqcxZ5z0o8_DUsA_mNnpN6QNIiQrC3II-IcRTj97beVJAEWqvGuPoGbMoRzcjK8UNYYYJF3WdEf4w8brEJKdHR-YTbbiCST5CpI9gClVv-ILxR1/s640/P1110322.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really narrow roads</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Loic had a Couchsurfing arrangement in Salta and we decided to not continue together, so we split up. After two months of cycling together since Cusco where I last saw my dad, we’ve shared a lot of this adventure together, but spending 24 hours together with one person everyday eventually gets old. I’m sure we’ll cycle together further on South again or maybe back in France sometime. Lukas and I found a cool little hostel for 50 pesos ($5.50, much cheaper than Chile!) and changed our US dollars to Argentinian Pesos. For more information on why we aren’t using ATM’s in Argentina, google Dollar Blue Argentina… For those Americans who think the US economy is in the toilet, try coming to Argentina! Lukas and I found some delicious veggie food and hung out with some folks at the hostel.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkV3r8hqIj_Jmv_pp6gVxyfI_ZK3urh1JGFzP7N_tK90tKVBCiS9RPASB-goGTuNdM4et-w60Iy-bQ2-nVy5ywU-vZLEbUHGZV9uDNAgDIu4OBVpPBsmHHAkhAPei3KXe_o_AbuysDbZgt/s1600/P1110334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkV3r8hqIj_Jmv_pp6gVxyfI_ZK3urh1JGFzP7N_tK90tKVBCiS9RPASB-goGTuNdM4et-w60Iy-bQ2-nVy5ywU-vZLEbUHGZV9uDNAgDIu4OBVpPBsmHHAkhAPei3KXe_o_AbuysDbZgt/s640/P1110334.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Northern Argentina is truly siesta country. Aside from the supermarkets, literally
everything closes around one and reopens again a few hours later. And a word about the six supermarkets I found
in Argentina thus far: there is no peanut butter, no soy milk, there are no
veggie patties… there is no soy meat at
all. Even in the small towns of Peru and
Bolivia, soy products are easy to find and in the bigger cities, all supermarkets
carry peanut butter. Trying to phase out
fish, my search for protein was long and arduous, but I finally found a little
nutrition shop selling expensive whey powder.
Late on Thursday, Nigel pulled into our hostel by chance! On Friday night, Lukas and I were making
music for a few hours when we met some local university students. We smoked hookah and drank Fernet, a drink
they have everywhere here, until the early morning hours. Around 4am, we all went up in their car to
the big lookout above the city, then did some pre-dawn sightseeing before
heading to bed. The following day we
relaxed most of the day, and then tried to find some fun in the evening. We walked over 50 blocks in search of a place
many people recommended, but arrived to find that it didn’t fit our vagabond
vibe. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBTBlSZnSv-lw-1TWIVCswaYmnTHLki1B-6eNgDTqcNlNa91tM9JmPr_N5VginoIUTfPKzFtthNnwRWB1gzm6uiDZTQdiCaOUX8KI0ddSAe426C8xo50d1lp2rRp7KIdnKXYyGiP2PzWD/s1600/DSC08786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyBTBlSZnSv-lw-1TWIVCswaYmnTHLki1B-6eNgDTqcNlNa91tM9JmPr_N5VginoIUTfPKzFtthNnwRWB1gzm6uiDZTQdiCaOUX8KI0ddSAe426C8xo50d1lp2rRp7KIdnKXYyGiP2PzWD/s640/DSC08786.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqkhfUmyly3TU-a0qAZ5h1elh95ZSBD6Z0w8PkYs80IJzk90q6gMepDbLKY5gEFOPMQs1e-DKTy04cRBFrpsw-_Jx0PGhkNjhKIiP2eJKVR7stukS2Dt0IZ3eCdXmAf2fS9asclu1RoE-F/s1600/IMG_0082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqkhfUmyly3TU-a0qAZ5h1elh95ZSBD6Z0w8PkYs80IJzk90q6gMepDbLKY5gEFOPMQs1e-DKTy04cRBFrpsw-_Jx0PGhkNjhKIiP2eJKVR7stukS2Dt0IZ3eCdXmAf2fS9asclu1RoE-F/s640/IMG_0082.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bro Camp....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day, Nigel, Lukas, and I left together in the direction
in Cafayate, a small town in Northern Argentina’s wine region. We wound up sleeping in an awesome olive
orchard and got to see all the things Nigel is carrying including a frying pan,
a mallet for tent stakes, a 12x12ft tarp with poles, 3-person tent, etc. The following day, we rode up and into the
Quebrada de Cafayate, a big, beautifully red canyon. The winds changed every few minutes, so it
was hard to tell how much distance we’d be able to cover. We stopped several times to hike into deep
side canyons with shadowy names like Throat of the Devil and The Obelisk. When we exited the quebrada, we had already
done 90km and the wind was starting to pick up sand, making the riding tough
and the searching for camp tougher. I
walked around some rock formations and found something more-or-less
suitable. It was a sandy and cold evening,
but watching the latest few episodes of Breaking Bad was a welcomed treat. <o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7wyJZs9GjbRna7sN1wV2Mmv3HHFib9XKYQlk7ELX7BAZsrRJoEUHrnls5-ZT1mzXK1Gc5rhkk4esjeZtudEAC5Cr-NVu6xIg50ccCS5BXxi9HhlmEfr5gzgNWLdGy-b_3rmkyFyuLOrl/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7wyJZs9GjbRna7sN1wV2Mmv3HHFib9XKYQlk7ELX7BAZsrRJoEUHrnls5-ZT1mzXK1Gc5rhkk4esjeZtudEAC5Cr-NVu6xIg50ccCS5BXxi9HhlmEfr5gzgNWLdGy-b_3rmkyFyuLOrl/s640/IMG_0118.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nigel from Australia and I going into into the Quebrada</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZBMfMgdDoeNlQ3jI1ZIiCq96HpjjRrF7CLzSvX7frIhNr841YuBMU8jbAkz46uMPyuelec-xybtwYQnXk8U-YUoPNhpSZikskkuvr36mwqx_Ue42k3DcHwTiP-ytleCzHWLXyZnucZlb/s1600/P1110445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ZBMfMgdDoeNlQ3jI1ZIiCq96HpjjRrF7CLzSvX7frIhNr841YuBMU8jbAkz46uMPyuelec-xybtwYQnXk8U-YUoPNhpSZikskkuvr36mwqx_Ue42k3DcHwTiP-ytleCzHWLXyZnucZlb/s640/P1110445.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life's peachy... in a gulch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6xRbJzNliLMR6ZGyvzBWwCdLXdQSSNCpW5u8NGrln-fNK41fXkkoElVUmgcPjB40j4EjSH3JgxBZ5gIpm1fvd3SGR9FUC2ouc80Eg2DEtKQ7T8UM91tuo3lxQKzvXflSrjfc9Yud1yrY/s1600/P1110353.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6xRbJzNliLMR6ZGyvzBWwCdLXdQSSNCpW5u8NGrln-fNK41fXkkoElVUmgcPjB40j4EjSH3JgxBZ5gIpm1fvd3SGR9FUC2ouc80Eg2DEtKQ7T8UM91tuo3lxQKzvXflSrjfc9Yud1yrY/s640/P1110353.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Olive oil mecca</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We rolled into Cafayate the following morning and while
hanging out in front of the market, a lady approached me offering her backyard
to camp for 20 pesos. The cheapest
hostel seemed to be 60 and being right in the center would be nice. Plus, I’ve decided to extend my time in
Argentina and need to make my pesos last longer. The three of us set our stuff up and explored
the town a bit. I planned on staying
here for a few days, but it wasn’t what I was looking for, so Lukas and I
decided to leave the following day and Nigel would be a day behind us.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhT3CaZs6bm86NcWEc_ROpHcSlPoH-BCpStrcv4HGvT1ER0fpFae23lZw7z2ehDMR5KBo1kEhTfI6dnNNJ8EbteS5vQiM0yau9aOB7zAnoz5X4AzMhhGFghNLLcVKMk6iaFBeM1mqBUKnA/s1600/P1110536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhT3CaZs6bm86NcWEc_ROpHcSlPoH-BCpStrcv4HGvT1ER0fpFae23lZw7z2ehDMR5KBo1kEhTfI6dnNNJ8EbteS5vQiM0yau9aOB7zAnoz5X4AzMhhGFghNLLcVKMk6iaFBeM1mqBUKnA/s640/P1110536.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mmm Bodegas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1yYQc1JyovGFZIGf5FeqmbCmByecWhaV9n5YzSmRI9dpH3HNhjCmKarvpQBOugtvJgsn0WvjGaxbwj6rbo835OsJd1wn4qlFNFGuX2jxA-TU-K-KmgO6SHH7wEGrhobHx3aQ7K8uS9n1/s1600/P1110465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz1yYQc1JyovGFZIGf5FeqmbCmByecWhaV9n5YzSmRI9dpH3HNhjCmKarvpQBOugtvJgsn0WvjGaxbwj6rbo835OsJd1wn4qlFNFGuX2jxA-TU-K-KmgO6SHH7wEGrhobHx3aQ7K8uS9n1/s640/P1110465.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such a beautiful canyon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The ride from Cafayate to Belen was pretty uneventful. Late the first day, we saw a few dreadlocked
travelers roadside and stopped to chat.
We made some music, had some mate, and one of the people lives in the
little village so we passed the night with them, making a big dinner and having
a great night. The moonrise above all
the art painted on the walls and below the vines of gourds in the courtyard was
spectacular. We had a sandstorm the next
night and headwinds all day, ugh. During
the sandstorm, we sought refuge with a family in the middle of the desert. They were very friendly, offering us drinking
water and showing us all their animals: chickens, turkeys, pigs, cows, goats,
and a one-week old llama... It was a
loud night. On our last day to Belen,
when we stopped for lunch, we met up with two cyclists, a couple from Mexico
and England. We had heard about them and
about two women from the U.S. cycling in front of us. We finished the last of 9 (yes count em, 9)
baguettes we purchased yesterday afternoon and continued on. The road was gravel and the headwinds were
insane, but least it was finally warm!
After pushing pretty hard, Lukas and I arrived in Belen where I had
arranged a Warmshowers homestay. We found
our host Antonio and his family of 7, met Jacque and Kayla heading to Ushuaia
by bike, and Luciano, an Argentinian traveling by thumb. We went out for a stupidly expensive dinner
of plain pasta with no sauce or spices, then delicious ice cream.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLdxoMAUeTU3MMmgOQH6k1O7bCim7Zi0J9qLqZl2kRDrTwKkpbBqHbc_nEshRZGp2Zz79wnS_k-_k4hpoq0Jzq2H6OcchVvyWEhBDyJH7aUrhlZkMraRikb0s8wsCybmpncpPQalDaax4/s1600/P1110574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLdxoMAUeTU3MMmgOQH6k1O7bCim7Zi0J9qLqZl2kRDrTwKkpbBqHbc_nEshRZGp2Zz79wnS_k-_k4hpoq0Jzq2H6OcchVvyWEhBDyJH7aUrhlZkMraRikb0s8wsCybmpncpPQalDaax4/s640/P1110574.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruta 40</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjq8ybjmfpU-INh7ic1t6Wd1jR6WL2NneEwAG9dQY5DvFKPqVh_EpO8oe1dV_SwtxJuW5lI0RDlGiIKi3LUlvDU7QMX7XaM4MWh0qgyq82F4Zk3RkJ30vNeL7IIYzJVB8yZegdzmzEDyjJ/s1600/P1110587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjq8ybjmfpU-INh7ic1t6Wd1jR6WL2NneEwAG9dQY5DvFKPqVh_EpO8oe1dV_SwtxJuW5lI0RDlGiIKi3LUlvDU7QMX7XaM4MWh0qgyq82F4Zk3RkJ30vNeL7IIYzJVB8yZegdzmzEDyjJ/s640/P1110587.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The traveling artesania sanctuary with Mate gourds growing above</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6oNps5bQfv7DLDDfF71RoN69ZHyKHzQJba84aYu_daSqrye_pxDJlZcbS-vxGJMhT3D1Vpr75frcxMrCeCYzIfkCKn4NlV4ddN7A_Js4zdJYaAKyk1EBAmAdzH02eo7f2vgFxM2WMJ50/s1600/P1110689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn6oNps5bQfv7DLDDfF71RoN69ZHyKHzQJba84aYu_daSqrye_pxDJlZcbS-vxGJMhT3D1Vpr75frcxMrCeCYzIfkCKn4NlV4ddN7A_Js4zdJYaAKyk1EBAmAdzH02eo7f2vgFxM2WMJ50/s640/P1110689.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avar's Warmshowers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On our rest day, I deep-cleaned my stove for hours, changed
my chain to a new one, cleaned some stuff, ate lots of food, and watched as a
sandstorm engulfed the city. It’s nice
to be indoors! Coco and Gregg (the
couple from Mexico and England) arrived later in the day, not having been able
to do it yesterday due to the wind and we all cooked up a veggie lunch!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXD10Wj_4WaP88mT4iC7YfeR1JZpCQQYgnP3S2-CVIgQq_uyZj8WRC_84kZ79HEFGd13Q2c3tBwAlosHzSoyzR6D-aACDp05D3QMnFfpiOPeirRBFArXLr7zZXH081EwdMhnZ4B3Ru7FB/s1600/P1110658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXD10Wj_4WaP88mT4iC7YfeR1JZpCQQYgnP3S2-CVIgQq_uyZj8WRC_84kZ79HEFGd13Q2c3tBwAlosHzSoyzR6D-aACDp05D3QMnFfpiOPeirRBFArXLr7zZXH081EwdMhnZ4B3Ru7FB/s640/P1110658.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco and Gregg</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIACbeBpQe54CdNMs_eBDUVhqkgBgdTtY3xI1mZLgx1baWlUPKcZHwNpcANrH7n_G3Mpd06kBNY8DNLu-KEDc7BjPlNh4otuoLQmCvyKKesj11OymJ5wGFNaXkEY1U6NzCpVa_wUCLbXdu/s1600/P1110693.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIACbeBpQe54CdNMs_eBDUVhqkgBgdTtY3xI1mZLgx1baWlUPKcZHwNpcANrH7n_G3Mpd06kBNY8DNLu-KEDc7BjPlNh4otuoLQmCvyKKesj11OymJ5wGFNaXkEY1U6NzCpVa_wUCLbXdu/s640/P1110693.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beginning of 'The Family'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjorrz6VfBz_Q8wzY1nkEZG93qsQDcB7tlQGZa6Dxrf6k4dojwwVDVihY5BtL7DQC6rGGleMqYzQL3tOEigYyXkduVbPKwSAJmJpeziFuXLd38IZvafZq1e_XBX_ti0hfELpPye5AZQLo/s1600/P1110718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNjorrz6VfBz_Q8wzY1nkEZG93qsQDcB7tlQGZa6Dxrf6k4dojwwVDVihY5BtL7DQC6rGGleMqYzQL3tOEigYyXkduVbPKwSAJmJpeziFuXLd38IZvafZq1e_XBX_ti0hfELpPye5AZQLo/s640/P1110718.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sr. Antonio</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My plans changed a lot after spending time with Lukas. I agree with his philosophy which is that it
is good to have a plan, as long as it’s easy to change. I signed up for WWOOF Argentina, an
organization that puts prospective volunteers in contact with organic farms
worldwide. The few farms I have
contacted aren’t accepting volunteers at the time because it is still the tail
end of winter here, but it will all work out when it’s supposed to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFboCOEcpLNRG7oFlr05Sh7ONDIwq_vOXzbUHXDpn-Gj4MVUOAXJF6TIyC421vexci_eTqxhRWbw0zzyi-UE9yatmpc2E3rOJ-gStYfDphzHZEJSZS1M3dUb9R0Hn3V0ymeYIR1TMoIUKm/s1600/P1110747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFboCOEcpLNRG7oFlr05Sh7ONDIwq_vOXzbUHXDpn-Gj4MVUOAXJF6TIyC421vexci_eTqxhRWbw0zzyi-UE9yatmpc2E3rOJ-gStYfDphzHZEJSZS1M3dUb9R0Hn3V0ymeYIR1TMoIUKm/s320/P1110747.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Family from L to R: Kayla, Jackie, me, Gregg, Coco, and Lukas </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUYnHpglS56W4Zm4Flv4bQjQ_C4UK8GzsSQyEOFwNg_-SMoQCxRND-KrX-I18CWB8LgUFU2DjJZQggQ6bS7YTiGOCQtglYOw7uTeZMiMoLq8nPcLUA_Qp5wjl6GmqA7iSpxJo0f4kvVvu/s1600/P1110824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUYnHpglS56W4Zm4Flv4bQjQ_C4UK8GzsSQyEOFwNg_-SMoQCxRND-KrX-I18CWB8LgUFU2DjJZQggQ6bS7YTiGOCQtglYOw7uTeZMiMoLq8nPcLUA_Qp5wjl6GmqA7iSpxJo0f4kvVvu/s640/P1110824.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lukas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent two days with what would later be called “The
Family” in Belen. We painted the
panniers, stitched art, found a second guitar to jam with and had a grand
time. We watched 180 Degrees South and
later formed the ‘1kg Ice Cream Club’.
In the next week, the 6 of us cycled together and whenever we passed a
Grido’s (ice cream shop), we would get a kilo for the group. It became a ritual and we even made a
manifesto for the members of the club.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1kg Ice Cream Club Manifesto:<br />
No picking up the tub<br />
Don't scoop too deep<br />
No second-hand support<br />
No spoon blocking<br />
If you break your spoon, you're out<br />
No moving of the tub towards oneself<br />
No tilting of the tub<br />
Five second scoop limit<br />
No multi-scoops<br />
At the end of the session, all must clap<br />
<br />
If you break a rule, you get a slap on the hand and a time penalty
depending on the crime. We even
considered making spoon-necklaces to be prepared when we found a Grido’s. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqOCjM7JeoRYrigXJtYsPUF0KmgdbF5gWKM_lp_DzIHVCUKvodG8bGuKuqx8uvKq8cXuLGQ3LDQPVifnslo49c71mR3u9MoUU9jKRvZFT_rms9T3uapLww5kxdVKBs_pNLNIGGHYbRCuJ/s1600/P1110805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTqOCjM7JeoRYrigXJtYsPUF0KmgdbF5gWKM_lp_DzIHVCUKvodG8bGuKuqx8uvKq8cXuLGQ3LDQPVifnslo49c71mR3u9MoUU9jKRvZFT_rms9T3uapLww5kxdVKBs_pNLNIGGHYbRCuJ/s640/P1110805.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mexican night in Salica</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8hhwaz6egwb8IdUT7dGmqSD-RWoKHDCeMWkUWs4qMoVKTkz85LAMm5Az4ONzHoDorLFLjbeWf3KFuT62Cwwcbpuja0KWfPL7qzFWX5qkjCAnBVJJRi9kvd6lA74IZXLqt4Anug7QHdZ5/s1600/P1110848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8hhwaz6egwb8IdUT7dGmqSD-RWoKHDCeMWkUWs4qMoVKTkz85LAMm5Az4ONzHoDorLFLjbeWf3KFuT62Cwwcbpuja0KWfPL7qzFWX5qkjCAnBVJJRi9kvd6lA74IZXLqt4Anug7QHdZ5/s640/P1110848.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Herbert and his kids, some of the strangest people I've met...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I dug deep and happened to find the artistic side in me,
stitching an outline of South America in the back of my Goodwill sweatshirt,
and then when Lukas gave me his fleece he picked up second-hand in Trujillo, I
gave Gregg my map sweatshirt. I painted
some stuff, repaired a few things, etc.
Leaving Belen after three great nights, The Family split up a bit with
Gregg and Coco being new to cycling and others having cycled longer and/or with
different weight. Camping with The
Family was exciting as we’d make a big fire, sing, make crazy music including
The Family Song, make headlight art, practice meditation, tell jokes, go for
hikes, repair bikes, etc. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfUcnSctu6r9XXS_OgE6K0fUL65WY0IkbjlceYXWA9c6ldQuqoMVqvnMBSuBao8OombHxNc1dcAQmB8yFgqcpcfNSX_ayqDFuG5QZS0hKaCNt8a16URrJqhzmY6de_mwP_kjehyphenhyphenpEQjU6/s1600/P1110784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfUcnSctu6r9XXS_OgE6K0fUL65WY0IkbjlceYXWA9c6ldQuqoMVqvnMBSuBao8OombHxNc1dcAQmB8yFgqcpcfNSX_ayqDFuG5QZS0hKaCNt8a16URrJqhzmY6de_mwP_kjehyphenhyphenpEQjU6/s640/P1110784.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Family</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVFeI07FfBP7m4yhc7rJJd36BSCWg1SxYWJRl5IsAXUTrVHebtFMLCLnB-xxzrKlUa39CX-7mFmSon-hpaScKYZdiBsDariuzXHs-k_iMgT0AoUCGoDeLCIIz8GdxXH1kxy1Efsis8w-H/s1600/P1110873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVFeI07FfBP7m4yhc7rJJd36BSCWg1SxYWJRl5IsAXUTrVHebtFMLCLnB-xxzrKlUa39CX-7mFmSon-hpaScKYZdiBsDariuzXHs-k_iMgT0AoUCGoDeLCIIz8GdxXH1kxy1Efsis8w-H/s640/P1110873.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lukas had always said that if you ask the universe for
something, it’ll come and it rings true with every turn I take. We arrived in Salica, a small town where
Lukas had heard there was a special place for cyclists to camp. The turnoff was marked with a toilet bolted
to a high sign and an upside-down mannequin head hanging from the toilet. The place has a big grassy area for tents, lots
of crazy art, a communal kitchen and ping pong table, ducks walking around, an
awesome dog, and a hill with a chair on it overlooking the farmlands owned by
Herbert, the crazy owner who inherited the place from his grandfather. It’s so nice we decided to take a rest day
already. In the town itself, all the
people are incredibly friendly and there’s an ice cream shop, panaderia, small
supermarket: everything a cyclist could
need! We did ice cream and started
earning our keep at Herbert’s place.
Jackie and I painted an outline of the world on the outside wall of the
communal area. The whole facility
doubles as an alternative school for indigenous youth. On our first night there, we made homemade
pizzas in the earthen-built fire oven and on the second, Mexican night, with
Coco taking control to make some of the best food I’ve eaten in a loooong time.
Herbert and his family would come in
occasionally and talk about crazy things, and then Herbert would go pound on a
drum hanging from the ceiling as hard as he can, then leave. Gregg and I played at least a dozen games of
ping pong, settling the even score on our last morning before leaving. I even helped restore a classical guitar he
had lying around; with all six of us each doing something, the place really
came together by the time we pedaled out.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtq2aARnhPF9V8OW9yHiJ2nSEnWayLoNYEyabjfiP130sknWSIzf9cqYT-DZQxlTW9-G_DMQbsxSl-ogUgsfzuCvGWi6s-ZaD5W-p00QECaRngovo09_zpE2Bz7NAQ-DnKcfUW7lZrqWBi/s1600/P1110916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtq2aARnhPF9V8OW9yHiJ2nSEnWayLoNYEyabjfiP130sknWSIzf9cqYT-DZQxlTW9-G_DMQbsxSl-ogUgsfzuCvGWi6s-ZaD5W-p00QECaRngovo09_zpE2Bz7NAQ-DnKcfUW7lZrqWBi/s640/P1110916.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The two days ahead are remembered for their intense headwind
and midday siestas to help us forget the wind.
Our camp was beautiful again, just off the traffic-free road, protected
from the wind behind a hill, cactus and spiny trees everywhere. Lots of warmth, music, and shooting stars
ensued.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstvnOaaTtxi0NDkqEIp1IeZrfUAxCUOZe0UWxD44RfKTbnz3pqA7_YFbvUYjqfl73_5QkTPOO0pcLycRCNypq_sbcfytJKmgWUFcFIFgXFmXD-AhZHvFM6m0r3LIlkE-utPdCL_c9K8Zp/s1600/P1110921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjstvnOaaTtxi0NDkqEIp1IeZrfUAxCUOZe0UWxD44RfKTbnz3pqA7_YFbvUYjqfl73_5QkTPOO0pcLycRCNypq_sbcfytJKmgWUFcFIFgXFmXD-AhZHvFM6m0r3LIlkE-utPdCL_c9K8Zp/s640/P1110921.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilecito</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we got to Chilecito, we hadn’t a place for everyone
though I had arranged a Warmshowers for Lukas and I. He wasn’t home, but the lady on the
motorcycle we followed to his place lived right down the street and invited us
to pass the night there! Vicky took 6
dirty cyclists in, fed us tons of food, let us sleep inside, use the shower,
leave and come when we pleased… She is
an incredible woman. To have leftovers
after 6 hungry cyclists have eaten dinner… well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen
it done. Kayla and I repaired, tuned,
and greased Vicky’s bike and Coco made her a dream catcher. Vicky is in her 40’s, lives with her Nephew,
works at a juice factory and always has a lot of family coming and going. She lost her husband and now battles cancer,
but is always smiling and with a big heart, helps out where she can. She made us dinner and brought bread the next
morning for breakfast. The girls are on
a timeline so left in the morning, and Lukas, Coco, Gregg, and I took it easy,
exploring Chilecito. The markets are
really cheap and the town nice with great people. Luckily for me, Coco and Gregg are really
into the show Breaking Bad, so we got up to date with the latest few
episodes. Vicky rescued a puppy a few
days before we arrived and we gave it tons of love while there. We could see his condition improve during the
time we were there, with water, good food, and so much love from everyone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBfk4tSCQ_TEXJa8LLE_0Y7vaQp1ROaWOsb7opFenExfxraCeqDeMJgpsd1bMnRQcY2LrZFnbAQXNqeU4pRoGzyRS3D95cOr5gaRCooKHi64Lz8JEdb0G5Kf7o1Uyc3JTuHhK1u7rwelR/s1600/P1110925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBfk4tSCQ_TEXJa8LLE_0Y7vaQp1ROaWOsb7opFenExfxraCeqDeMJgpsd1bMnRQcY2LrZFnbAQXNqeU4pRoGzyRS3D95cOr5gaRCooKHi64Lz8JEdb0G5Kf7o1Uyc3JTuHhK1u7rwelR/s640/P1110925.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vicky and her family</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lukas left early the next morning as he is trying to get to
Cordoba and I have decided to go at a slower pace with Gregg and Coco. We cycled 5 beautiful days with some serious
headwind to San Augustine de Valle Fertil.
In the last few evenings, we picked up a box of wine or two on our way
out of town. On the 4<sup>th</sup>
night, we had consumed 2 liters of wine on empty stomachs and went to bed a bit
toasted. It started to thunder and
lightning with big drops of rain beginning to fall in the middle of the night. Being situated in a dry riverbed, it was a
mad dash, still drunk, to get everything to high ground. Crazy night, warm though and lots of flat
tires the following morning. Coco’s
front shifter broke on a dirt shortcut road, but we repaired it using a rock
wedged between the seat tube and front derailleur. Gregg changed it to a smaller rock every time
we had a hill to climb. <o:p></o:p><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvwcXJP0b4ObNshirHhyrgKP3YvfhHmsnow1SEK8M-nTpAOH0dP3KnTwXR34-NxY1vQb1RrQx9yQzcVvsQz9ZBMyvFWNtFPBrIy9HMMenmkpaSXtblD5RA8Yua2OWuGVQ_7oLNnpXmsDX/s1600/P1120027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgvwcXJP0b4ObNshirHhyrgKP3YvfhHmsnow1SEK8M-nTpAOH0dP3KnTwXR34-NxY1vQb1RrQx9yQzcVvsQz9ZBMyvFWNtFPBrIy9HMMenmkpaSXtblD5RA8Yua2OWuGVQ_7oLNnpXmsDX/s640/P1120027.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dry riverbed we had to flee from in the middle of the night when it began pouring rain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrOlzBPutoLQHERDpPfSR0eefVRmEc8c2IkDxxWNWzr0jFXNS4QzS1fbKGTZnssIbUJMiAGGD5tqy2g-JBJkN_eyJRPQJatZ9mU16_X_09VdUgo7ds5BZ07N8UTbY5lC-uyo4ihyrMUoY/s1600/P1110981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrOlzBPutoLQHERDpPfSR0eefVRmEc8c2IkDxxWNWzr0jFXNS4QzS1fbKGTZnssIbUJMiAGGD5tqy2g-JBJkN_eyJRPQJatZ9mU16_X_09VdUgo7ds5BZ07N8UTbY5lC-uyo4ihyrMUoY/s640/P1110981.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canyon country</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We finally made it to San Augustine de Valle Fertil on the
fifth day from Chilecito, a great little town still in a dry climate, but with
tons of birds and wildlife. We saw
eagles, foxes, condors, rabbits, snakes, etc.
San Augustine is small enough to get around by bike, but big enough to
have everything we need, so we took two rest days at an awesome little
campground near the central plaza.
Everyone gets around by bike and no one locks their bikes; I even felt
comfortable after dark using the free wifi in the plaza with my computer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I planned on cycling to Cordoba alone for WWOOFing and to
attend the meditation course, but the WWOOF farm I signed up for happened to be
on the other side of Cordoba, 250km from the course, so I emailed a few other
places nearer but they hadn’t space for me.
The Vipassana meditation folks never replied to my request of coming to
an earlier course and it being October 5<sup>th</sup> and the course beginning
October 23<sup>rd</sup>, I’d have at least 10 days to kill doing
something. With a great relationship
building between Coco/Gregg and I, I decided to head to Santiago with
them. They know a lot of people there
because they had lived there a few months to make some extra money earlier in
the year. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Coco is a 27 year old, tall, Mexican-born traveler with a
chill demeanor and artistic style. She
used to do photography but has been working on new things since they started
traveling 7 months ago (3 weeks ago with bike).
Gregg, 25, is an English musician who kind of looks like my friend
James, and is straight-up good people.
They’ve been married 5 years, having left their lives immediately upon
meeting one another and lived back and forth between England and Mexico for
years. They went to Cusco to make money
in the music scene at the beginning of this year, but left of boredom and have
been on the road since. They began
hitchhiking when they got to expensive Argentina/Chile, but found a guy with
two bikes to give and started a new adventure.
They’re heading to Ushuaia and then would like to return to Mexico
eventually. I’m really learning a ton
from them, and I’d like to think they’re learning about tips of cycle-touring
and bike maintenance from me. Sorta-vegans,
we’re all bent on finding some good food in San Augustine, so we picked up some
garbanzo’s and Coco made hummus using a rock and oil. They’ve inspired me to travel to Santiago
with them and perhaps find something worth staying for like a job in a hostel
as they had. There’s a meditation course
nearby in December and lots of mountains/climbing/rafting to explore just out
of town. The thing I’m most excited for
though is the lady in front of the subway tunnel who sells vegan burgers for
less than a buck.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We left San Augustine with a killer tailwind, stronger than
the headwind we had had in the weeks prior and were flying. We stopped in a small village for lunch and
met a family there and after talking awhile with them, were invited to their
house near San Juan when we arrive a few days later! We passed a half hour with these awesome
people and left, now with an even more massive tailwind. By the time I hit 100km, I was averaging
27kph, which blows my previous record out of the water. We camped near some abandoned railway tracks,
but it wasn’t enough to block the wind.
The sand blew in from all directions through the night and the wind
never ceased. Gregg, Coco, and I made a
few promises to one another, one of which was to make a band and play at least
one show in Santiago. We call ourselves
The Dirt Bags, and still don’t have instruments, but just as I had written
earlier, a guitar will come when we’re ready for it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-g9U-USq-U9g5EycqcGlxiBf5WXqjQefDMxtoHv3tJf3ONFvw9CWxGQ6pkPKE99EZqaTsy6cwoHwq29-yKH6LVZik88_hLrK3W9I2_2R4C84vz792JInZzL2NtM1IKgiIPLu1tp3jqcbX/s1600/P1120054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-g9U-USq-U9g5EycqcGlxiBf5WXqjQefDMxtoHv3tJf3ONFvw9CWxGQ6pkPKE99EZqaTsy6cwoHwq29-yKH6LVZik88_hLrK3W9I2_2R4C84vz792JInZzL2NtM1IKgiIPLu1tp3jqcbX/s640/P1120054.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hummingbird</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrb2NBL8hvy34slJswgZWcC-s5-Vuedjre0IRWBw2JPPc34qZVk-fpHQbWfmA71YmVy8eCrHTVsIrhZKEOaHO5NoKLvRXhb53MMA6Vubcn6NvaaXNjbnfCkFaaYRV2ybS8e8H7AI1U6Cu/s1600/P1120129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrb2NBL8hvy34slJswgZWcC-s5-Vuedjre0IRWBw2JPPc34qZVk-fpHQbWfmA71YmVy8eCrHTVsIrhZKEOaHO5NoKLvRXhb53MMA6Vubcn6NvaaXNjbnfCkFaaYRV2ybS8e8H7AI1U6Cu/s640/P1120129.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parakeets overhead - so free! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I awoke in the morning to find that my huge bag of breakfast
food: avena, cereal, sugar, seeds, and super-expensive
whey protein had mysteriously disappeared.
I was pretty down about it, but knew it’d come back to me in another
form. Not 30km down the road, we came
upon an overturned semi-truck. The
accident had been the previous day and there was a crew cleaning up all the
written-off cargo which happened to be fine wine. We pedaled away from the accident with 11
bottles of wine, which is all we could fit in our already heavily-laden
bags! That night, we celebrated our find
a bit too hard out in the desert and I really paid for it the next day. Gregg woke up, not having even zipped their
tent door shut and all I remember is that our last words before bed were
screaming “Everything is broken, man, nothing matters!!!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFap7DG6eopafOouG4h3Zq59G9y1NOlP9HJgNffXQkTN93yjBxla-sHs0JO3JmHrM64Bv-ift5izqZ95CZWncXskMal55YfuP43ubQck-ZVkNEjdgl5hJVIXMJtpW2sJ3aeshv2iuphrQ/s1600/P1120165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglFap7DG6eopafOouG4h3Zq59G9y1NOlP9HJgNffXQkTN93yjBxla-sHs0JO3JmHrM64Bv-ift5izqZ95CZWncXskMal55YfuP43ubQck-ZVkNEjdgl5hJVIXMJtpW2sJ3aeshv2iuphrQ/s640/P1120165.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Truck-crash-wine we found en route</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another one of our promises to one another is that we free
every caged bird we see on the road and yesterday, Coco freed a bird on the way
into town where we filled up on water and veggies. As it so happens, the bird was in the hands
of the police at the quarantine checkpoint on the highway and the act didn’t go
unnoticed. The following day we walked
back to the road from our little stealth camping spot just as always and as we
were putting everything together and doing some exercises (another pact), the
police showed up with the empty cage, walked right up to Coco and began
accusing her of freeing it. After a few
minutes of denial, we were free to go and are now bird police fugitives. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KqUeHeXea_BkJpe8unh4JkuBbnTDlsTdSwJWfzipqVKS6bqYy0iHsHjgHHmOr2uA4Nz2SuZHwXQwyf6W1zxAqFkpePdPG6JwFqqq4HCHGzuGIMOjDFa53rV4UvH2KAvS8L0H5saz5jw8/s1600/P1120239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4KqUeHeXea_BkJpe8unh4JkuBbnTDlsTdSwJWfzipqVKS6bqYy0iHsHjgHHmOr2uA4Nz2SuZHwXQwyf6W1zxAqFkpePdPG6JwFqqq4HCHGzuGIMOjDFa53rV4UvH2KAvS8L0H5saz5jw8/s640/P1120239.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miguel, Gregg, Coco, Cecelia, and I at Miguel's house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Luckily, the hangover was forgotten riding on the brand-new
cycle path all the way into the San Juan suburbs. We got to a gas station to use the internet,
and ended up passing 9 hours there, waiting for Miguel to get off work (the guy
we had met a few days earlier with his family) and pick us up to take us to his
house across town. Shell Station blues. We got to his really nice, quaint place last
night and are having a blast. We think
we’ll spend the rest of the week here as we meet his friends, rebuild Coco’s
bike, sell some art we’ve made in the plaza, and hopefully get a hold of a
guitar. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecax1eS4scD3bg2VLznUEpcDXRFv3kw6HIOP1qK93sAGFEhCFRY8zU44ozkC0-vYcgjHF733rHGPzpBPDYNesq78oRPiYt00iigC0rqynS_iSapVir-6yQ06tSUQcI4OluQ6Iohr__YPC/s1600/P1120215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecax1eS4scD3bg2VLznUEpcDXRFv3kw6HIOP1qK93sAGFEhCFRY8zU44ozkC0-vYcgjHF733rHGPzpBPDYNesq78oRPiYt00iigC0rqynS_iSapVir-6yQ06tSUQcI4OluQ6Iohr__YPC/s640/P1120215.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Selling our art!<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wuk3dUk91_rwx_p1Q-rpa4dqR_ra431zpC6pl8Ei4i4bPQL2JsX_7BN-_rNZk20_o2K16RbVewufUR3dzIFzDA-m0yPd5hYM5O_Orya93sF-x5FRet1XkV3V8qLHIEa7EQdzqLVUmexh/s1600/P1120257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wuk3dUk91_rwx_p1Q-rpa4dqR_ra431zpC6pl8Ei4i4bPQL2JsX_7BN-_rNZk20_o2K16RbVewufUR3dzIFzDA-m0yPd5hYM5O_Orya93sF-x5FRet1XkV3V8qLHIEa7EQdzqLVUmexh/s640/P1120257.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Miguel's place</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
SO, to conclude this bastante largo blog, I guess I’ll just
say that I am incredibly happy, and everything is really happening as it
should. The trip keeps progressing to
new levels of learning, joy, good people, etc.
As I had said in an earlier blog, I don’t want to leave South America
without learning a few important things and this learning curve has really
taken a turn for the better in this past month.
Argentina is the friendliest country I have ever visited, which says
quite a lot having seen most of Latin America, Europe, etc. I’ve also become accustomed to drinking Mate,
a kind of energizing tea native to Argentina, at least twice a day. I now feel like I am living here and not just
traveling. Cycling is becoming a
secondary activity and meeting new people, learning new things, and improving
my Spanish is now the primary. I’ve
adopted a lot of new ideas about traveling, art, society, and true freedom I
didn’t have in April when I left. I’ve
told some of my family and friends that I hadn’t found what I was looking for
in this trip yet, and having cycled with Dad, Loic, Lukas, Nigel, the US girls,
and now Coco/Gregg, I finally feel like I am now beginning the third part of my
adventure. See you guys in Santiago,
thanks for following along! Remember
that I have a lot more pictures posted (a little behind at the moment) on my
facebook page, which can be accessed via a link at the top of this page. Chow! <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-63760502708486277802013-09-04T11:45:00.000-07:002013-09-04T22:06:45.064-07:00August 22 - September 4: Uyuni, Bolivia to San Pedro de Atacama, Chile via Laguna’s Route<div class="MsoNormal">
For nearly two years I had been researching a famous cycling
route called the Laguna’s Route in Southwest Bolivia. There are sketch maps, satellite images,
documents with turn-by-turn directions attempting to help the next rider, and dozens
of accounts of the journey from cyclists who have completed it on the
interwebs. I had originally not planned
to do the route because, frankly, I was scared of the many things that could go
wrong. Snowstorms, water scarcity,
extreme remoteness, and downright life-threatening isolation are some of the
words I’ve read about the route. Even if
everything goes correctly, the road is still 500km of salty, sandy, snowy, and
rocky 4x4 tracks that criss-cross blindly through the unknown. One missed turn gone unnoticed could be a
death sentence without water or if caught in a snowstorm. The reality is that no matter how much
research I did, the road conditions are constantly changing and weather
conditions at that altitude are always variable.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26IjN386y5Q5Tj3UKafisntw0cQoJn3ZoBUbCbkbdE63rdJx5UoNHxKcVW0JrOoF7FtLDlWA4duYvo3yibtcWpAbUsYWGFJkT8VJFkB0ISWL6ZWABa8gCTA4Z4Y6W6T8eYRs49fmAoGSb/s1600/P1100409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg26IjN386y5Q5Tj3UKafisntw0cQoJn3ZoBUbCbkbdE63rdJx5UoNHxKcVW0JrOoF7FtLDlWA4duYvo3yibtcWpAbUsYWGFJkT8VJFkB0ISWL6ZWABa8gCTA4Z4Y6W6T8eYRs49fmAoGSb/s640/P1100409.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sketchmap we used for 2 weeks to find our way through the Laguna's Route</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 23: After
stocking up on 12 days of food and curing all the water we’d need for the next
few days, we printed off the map we’d need for the Laguna’s Route, which is a
16-page PDF with road conditions, directions, landmarks, water points, wind
shelters, etc. The morning we were
supposed to leave Uyuni, I awoke with a sickness from the previous nights’
gorging on two whole pizzas and a loaf of bread. Gotta carb up, but I guess there’s a
limit! I told Loic to leave, but he
waited the day out for me, hoping I’d get better the following morning. I watched a few movies and studied the PDF
quite extensively, and by the morning of the 23<sup>rd</sup>, I was set to
cycle through the Salar de Uyuni, and I’d decide whether I wanted to do the
Lagunas Route when we arrived at the island in the middle.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEILmX0Ms7ec2_Nkrsoa7t379L5O2YJ5bHScV3Tek1eQolMvBxbo_WLfKunJHVBDBkU5lPXfYzmPWwr9Be5X63i8ivpKjuhb29MWyrkParN5bfzt_Db_dZ9tCedqUrqkuLUpFhFPqOEKJJ/s1600/P1090820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEILmX0Ms7ec2_Nkrsoa7t379L5O2YJ5bHScV3Tek1eQolMvBxbo_WLfKunJHVBDBkU5lPXfYzmPWwr9Be5X63i8ivpKjuhb29MWyrkParN5bfzt_Db_dZ9tCedqUrqkuLUpFhFPqOEKJJ/s640/P1090820.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moonrise in the middle of the Salar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Departing the last paved road for nearly two weeks, we
cycled north on a horribly corrugated, sandy road to the entrance of the Salar
for a few hours, then onto the largest salt flat in the world. At an elevation of nearly 12,000ft, the
surface consists of perfectly flat salt polygons, separated by 1cm high ridges
of salt. The surface changes every few
kilometers, sometimes silky smooth, sometimes bumpy with little salt balls, and
sometimes there are even little holes, through which you can see the first
layer of saltwater below the surface.
You can cycle in any direction and I even went so far as to blindfold
myself for a few minutes, using the wind on the side of my cheek to orient
myself west toward the ‘island’ at the middle.
I put on some Tycho, which I found to be the perfect
cycling-on-the-largest-salt-flat-in-the-world music and explored the vastness. After five hours, the island was still not in
sight, so we decided to stop. Normally,
we pick a time to begin searching for a stealth-camp spot, but out here on the
10,500 square kilometer playground, it was just a matter of which side of the
darkened 4x4 track to pitch camp. Loic
and I actually had a discussion about it and we used the wind coming from the
Southwest to blow us to the right side of the road 500m to a nice spot to
camp. In the morning, the wind wouldn’t
be blowing and we could get back to the main track with less effort – it was a
scientifically justified decision to camp on the right side of the track in the
end, how geeky. We cooked some rice and
lentils and watched the sun sinking into the endless white salar, but with no
land to have captured the sun’s energy, the temperature dropped to 36F (3C)
almost immediately after the sunset and we were forced into our tents. I got out of the tent a few hours later to
watch the moonrise, and then slept like a baby with no sounds, smells, or
lights to distract me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 24: The night
was unexpectedly warm, only dropping to 31F (-1C), and in the morning, it was
only 40km to the island, which became visible after an hour. We were fighting a headwind, but the ecstasy
and allure of the salar were still fresh in my blood. We arrived at the Isla Inkahuasi and met
resident Don Alfredo, who enjoys meeting cyclists and hearing their
stories. We relaxed, did a little hike
around the island, seeing the 1000 year-old cacti jutting high into the bright
sky. A strong wind began whipping the
island late in the day, so we retired to Don’s little one-table restaurant
where we shared our stories with some Jeep drivers and guides over coffee. The route between Uyuni and San Pedro de
Atacama is frequented by tourists on 3-4 day Jeep tours throughout the day. The guides said the southern part of the
Laguna’s Route was currently snowbound and closed, but should be open by the
time we reach it. I watched the sunset
behind the stormy clouds, then retired to Don’s guestroom, a basic affair with
salt floor, salt beds (with bare mattress atop), no electricity or light except
candles, no heat, running water, or bathroom.
It was out of the wind, which is well worth the $4.50. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmNu0CRkSNKuBJ6fzt50Q6HXEiRv2oivWEJ-4OT6zj-yhqACx5FoBAr-bTZtVc3sLf1-M8aI27msNgjXC9LbbMPiBQdCvHt9RCmy35LXQXSItLFl632u5_qBzIuOBdzuWP0sYxoWkDzNO5/s1600/P1090916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmNu0CRkSNKuBJ6fzt50Q6HXEiRv2oivWEJ-4OT6zj-yhqACx5FoBAr-bTZtVc3sLf1-M8aI27msNgjXC9LbbMPiBQdCvHt9RCmy35LXQXSItLFl632u5_qBzIuOBdzuWP0sYxoWkDzNO5/s640/P1090916.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isla Inkahuasi, made of ancient coral and cacti</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 25: The next
day, I was done with my antibiotics and feeling strong enough to continue with
Loic through the Lagunas Route. Leaving
the island with loads of water, we had a very strong tailwind, pushing us
20-25kph over the salt to the southern shore.
After 40km, we reached a dirt ramp that led to the shore where we cooked
lunch in someone’s house and watched as the wind grew stronger, now carrying
dirt and dust across the road and wreaking havoc on the family’s Bolivian
flag. We continued on the track, but as
the road began deteriorating, we got lost a few times and eventually found
ourselves pushing in the deep sand, unsure if we were even walking in the right
direction. By 3pm, the wind was blowing
at perhaps 60mph (95kph), starting a little sandstorm, reducing visibility to
less than a kilometer. Thankfully, we
found an old house used to for irrigation equipment, so we quickly set the
tents up, but with only half a roof and no door, the dust swirled and eddied in
the 10x10ft house, under our tent flies and into all our gear. Around sunset, the sandstorm was raging
outside; with wind upwards of perhaps 100mph (160kph), visibility was reduced
to 50 meters; even the location of the sun couldn’t be determined. I was in my sleeping bag at 6pm, but couldn’t
sleep with all the dust flying over my face and the screaming noise of the wind
on the mud-brick walls. The wind was
even strong enough to blow around the dead mice in the room, que bueno! I had my bandana over my face, but it was
still a quite uncomfortable evening until the wind died down around 10.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuRbE3MJJaMirCUKT4rsWnanLDGOI95cLFbtktDGmM9GdAVzRLJtdhkjOuwIKe4ncNco3IDT4PL50vNTssjYWzFAShkkQOaDVMqVxp5Ov9XOxx3KadvENn3QQfJbfT2ivpAIdx_iMZQls/s1600/P1100049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuRbE3MJJaMirCUKT4rsWnanLDGOI95cLFbtktDGmM9GdAVzRLJtdhkjOuwIKe4ncNco3IDT4PL50vNTssjYWzFAShkkQOaDVMqVxp5Ov9XOxx3KadvENn3QQfJbfT2ivpAIdx_iMZQls/s640/P1100049.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sandstorm</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
AUGUST 26: In the
morning, I tried cleaning up everything, but dirty as I was, it was really no
use. We walked down road, even sandier
now, and found a Jeep to ask directions.
Luckily, we were going the right way, and in a few hours arrived in San
Juan de Rosario, a town of 30 families, for lunch. After weighing the decision to continue
beyond our last town, we decided to stay in a little hospedaje for a hot shower
and long nights’ sleep. We even found
fruits and vegetables here, which we had read was impossible to buy, but
couldn’t find bread, which would have been better for cycling. We spent the remainder of the afternoon
cleaning some clothes, boiling water for the next day, and shopping for things
we thought would be useful for the journey ahead. The wind whipped up again, but nowhere near
as strong as yesterday; regardless, we were grateful to be indoors. And I was grateful to have brought some
emergency US money with me to change for Bolivianos so we could stay indoors at
refugios occasionally and here in San Juan.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBV4a73gyGfUh55WW3IxTjnFVuaHSZHic01Hk3eqWDb-53x21HmeEyXpfTAKLUb-a_v9fzTNua5FHuQ3uP3ZBtjw7ONmxh4WIvm_fqKeFHq2yDO6FvoNntEH86cPWd30U5RCdYrU8NJx8F/s1600/P1100054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBV4a73gyGfUh55WW3IxTjnFVuaHSZHic01Hk3eqWDb-53x21HmeEyXpfTAKLUb-a_v9fzTNua5FHuQ3uP3ZBtjw7ONmxh4WIvm_fqKeFHq2yDO6FvoNntEH86cPWd30U5RCdYrU8NJx8F/s640/P1100054.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A 'road'</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 27: Cycling
out of San Juan was difficult in the sand, but soon became easy as we reached
another small salar. Though it still
only 32F (0C) heading across the salar, the day was clear and windless, so we
flew across as the behemoth volcanoes grew larger in front of us. Somewhere after our last water point for two
days, we got lost. Instead of turning at
a fork in the sand/salt road, we stayed straight, which actually made our
journey up into the mountains easier, though it added 20km in the end. We found a nice little canyon to pass the
night and after setting our gear up, had some time to kill. Here’s the thing: we happened to purchase some dynamite on the
Potosi mine tour for the miners, but ended up keeping a stick of the ‘Hydrogel’
stuff for ourselves, along with a little wick.
I have no idea if this is legal or if exploding it outside of a mine is
legal, but the way things go in Bolivia, it seems like it doesn’t really matter. After some calculations and decisions, we
found the perfect place to wedge the dynamite stick and determined that we had
1:18 of time to run. I lit the wick,
dropped off my camera nearby and ran into a sandy hole with Loic, hands over
ears. Unfortunately, we severely
overestimated the force of one stick of dynamite, so the camera was positioned
too far away to capture any of the explosion except for the ‘BOOM’ it
made. Other than a few missing stones, a
big black mark on the boulder, and some displaced sand, the dynamite was a
bust. We ate dinner, watched an unreal
sunset behind snowy peaks, and turned in, a bit disappointed. Lessons for the future!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTQMdvQlPtY15kH_s_5tWy76OA76CSGwlHammksVEN54qnkHMWqxv9oOjEmrvcg07Z8wkkgryZrpCJQLzzQmYS0KMEFyXkjttDIa4mSahdptjWMIZX5eGJyMBNjkMH0YmkiqiYU3QXfr5n/s1600/P1100157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTQMdvQlPtY15kH_s_5tWy76OA76CSGwlHammksVEN54qnkHMWqxv9oOjEmrvcg07Z8wkkgryZrpCJQLzzQmYS0KMEFyXkjttDIa4mSahdptjWMIZX5eGJyMBNjkMH0YmkiqiYU3QXfr5n/s640/P1100157.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh Bolivia, you're so unlawful</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 28: The
morning was cold, but pushing 3km in the deep sand to the maintained
International Road warmed us up plenty.
Now we finally knew where we were and where we went wrong. Climbed up into the mountains on the
sandless, smooth-surfaced International Road, and then turned off towards the
first laguna, the point of no return. Lunch is getting interesting as I have run out
of some items and have an excess of others.
So on the menu for Loic was this tomato lentil and rice paste-like mud
and for me: tuna, oatmeal, honey,
peanuts, crackers, and soy protein powder. The road undulated and climbed steeply up a
very rocky track, something I wouldn’t even do with my old Jeep Cherokee back
in the day! Though my back wheel finally
has traction as there is no sand, the rocks made it a bit too strenuous to
cycle with all the water-weight at the front of my bike, so I was walking once
again up and over to a little salar on the other side. There’s not much wind this afternoon again,
thank God because there is nothing to hide behind out here. Coming up on the first laguna was quite
spectacular, blues and whites under an eerie sky, dotted with white and pink
flamingos, vicunas (wild llamas) and foxes around the shore. I took perhaps 97 horrible wildlife pictures
and 3 good ones, a good way to drain a camera battery out here. 10km further took us to Laguna Hedionda,
where we got a nice dinner at a little restaurant and refilled our water
bottles, then were allowed to camp just next door, out of the wind. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVhzz6BrvPVszTslTPDQHAaq8fTBewcVOAgE0-jqwiivuueF6TeM8gLGiPGhR3pLHJ-2G7DZXCnZPIDrVs7Z-fqrP6bx0vFSiDfyGHMeduowpR3YMnvFj7WS-DYS5E3f50q8eXuxhntgLz/s1600/P1100204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVhzz6BrvPVszTslTPDQHAaq8fTBewcVOAgE0-jqwiivuueF6TeM8gLGiPGhR3pLHJ-2G7DZXCnZPIDrVs7Z-fqrP6bx0vFSiDfyGHMeduowpR3YMnvFj7WS-DYS5E3f50q8eXuxhntgLz/s640/P1100204.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain biking with a 110lb road bike, anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HP-wRTMCXrgzj7AyBf1FHzbfQh8dTMWvYMi9_KXahkHUX2nYJ76qExC62985AIjlbU8PP3sAAt_Hd4TczlIKazjOYlBXJJwBKdq1hzx-HajoaEYmzoFtCtPiNXOKhZTClWXSBuMPbcGu/s1600/P1100299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HP-wRTMCXrgzj7AyBf1FHzbfQh8dTMWvYMi9_KXahkHUX2nYJ76qExC62985AIjlbU8PP3sAAt_Hd4TczlIKazjOYlBXJJwBKdq1hzx-HajoaEYmzoFtCtPiNXOKhZTClWXSBuMPbcGu/s640/P1100299.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laguna Hedionda flamingos</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 29: The
flamingos were making quite the racket, making sleeping in difficult, which was
frustrating because there was no morning sun to warm us today with all the
clouds, so we went into the restaurant to take a power coffee. The owners of the Ecolodge Flamenco’s
Restaurant were very friendly and even included some bread with our coffee,
which is like gold out here in the wild desert.
The track through the rest of the little lakes was quite hard going,
with lots of washboard to contend with.
We began climbing up to a pass at 15,500ft (4700m) under ominous skies. We were pushing the bikes through a really
rocky section after a few hours when a series of Jeeps passed us, with the
tourist taking pictures and what not as they usually do. A few minutes later, we ran into them again
as they were preparing lunch and invited us over! Pasta, tuna, meat for Loic, chips, BREAD,
VEGETABLES, and coke were a few of the things on the menu. I ate three full plates and the guides loaded
us up with pasta, veggies, chips, and bread for the road. What an awesome happening – such good people
out here! Happy as all get-out, we
continued up the pass, clouds growing above and a fierce, cold wind picking
up. Near the top, the sky opened up and
I got my first dose of cycle-touring in the snow. I used to cycle to class in the snow during
college and I loved it. But it’s a
little different when you’re above 15,000ft and there is nothing but desert
surrounding you, definitely no warm classroom or apartment to end at. The wind was coming at a 90-degree angle from
the west, and all we could do was cycle because it was too cold to stop. Once over the pass, there were several
centimeters of snow on the tracks, but because it came in at an angle, we could
still see where the tracks went.
Unfortunately, the tracks went in all different directions, so with zero
visibility, we used the compass to make our way further south. Thunder was cracking over our heads… I was cold, wet and a bit nervous as this was
my big fear coming into this route – being snowbound. Luckily, the skies suddenly cleared way for
the sun later in the evening and we found a nice place to camp, though not out
of the wind. The mountains with fresh
snow against the powder-blue sky looked just like a postcard. If the snow came back, it’d be a really long
night. Peering out my little window
occasionally to look at the huge clouds in the distance, I was greeted only
with shooting stars and a fresh breeze. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBqaSWdHwt45PPsrlxAKE5wdF8IEmzw_3Eyz5_-kiWf3V4n6hyphenhyphenSUKWUmRtUrdZf4-9gdEhPnp2ksBUl-CjqJe9yB7FUgqZr-EQWsNWV1p5HjrNbJvdwytlxn-8IlOtirhvJa9jSq5Fucr/s1600/P1100346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBqaSWdHwt45PPsrlxAKE5wdF8IEmzw_3Eyz5_-kiWf3V4n6hyphenhyphenSUKWUmRtUrdZf4-9gdEhPnp2ksBUl-CjqJe9yB7FUgqZr-EQWsNWV1p5HjrNbJvdwytlxn-8IlOtirhvJa9jSq5Fucr/s640/P1100346.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've never been so excited about bread before</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_h4zmCHJN1K_6pF9-xXBO-W3T8Z71GlXLx5DiZm7gW0N03LVAoKI81a5pqLDhiG7lXoKc95h1cWyjxMH5VDVSYM-Io5-STM8bePmvP4uPPeSEcKubrsqp02n08xkfr2cX3mTbAWM4tO7/s1600/P1100378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_h4zmCHJN1K_6pF9-xXBO-W3T8Z71GlXLx5DiZm7gW0N03LVAoKI81a5pqLDhiG7lXoKc95h1cWyjxMH5VDVSYM-Io5-STM8bePmvP4uPPeSEcKubrsqp02n08xkfr2cX3mTbAWM4tO7/s640/P1100378.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first time cycle-touring in the snow</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the middle of the night, I checked my digital
thermometer, which being a part of a cycling computer only goes to down to 10F
(-12C). It dropped slowly to 10, then read
‘---‘, meaning the temperature was probably somewhere in the
single-digits. Loic got zero sleep with
his malfunctioning tent zipper, and I think I managed 4 hours or so wearing all
my clothes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 30: We had a
sunny cloudless sky in the morning, which we allowed to warm the air to about
32F (0C) before we got to riding. Half
of my water was a solid ice-block and the other half was slush. We planned to push hard to get to a refugio
by nightfall. After a few kilometers of
cycling horrible road, we entered the National Park boundary, which has a
machine that more-or-less maintains the road.
From here on down to Chile, the road is heavily corrugated, making for a
very bumpy ride. The machine takes out
the sand though, making it cycleable, even if averaging only 4.5mph (7kph) the
whole day. Some of the worst sections
were so corrugated that over the bumps, my big crank and pedals were hitting
the tops of the ridges of the road when rocking over them. I can’t believe my bike has made it this
far! My chain shrieks for oil. By lunch the wind was howling, but we made it
to the Arbol de Piedra, a rock that has been shaped into a tree by the howling
wind and blowing sands. We cooked some
mashed potatoes with soup and soy protein chunks in the snowy rock garden,
hidden from the wind. Afterwards, a
gradual 1000ft (300m) descent down to Laguna Colorada followed, with a few
sandy sections where we had to push. If
you have a downhill with a tailwind and still have to get off your bike and
push, you know you’re doing something crazy.
We arrived at the bright red lake with huge salt peninsulas in time for
sunset, and checked into a really nasty little refugio, where the temperatures
inside still dropped below freezing. No
toilet, no water, but there was a light and for 5bs, I charged my camera with a
car battery fed by a solar panel. The
night was windy and we were really thankful to be inside. We had heard that the pass and immigration to
Chile has been closed for snow, but should be opened tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPmbIEa_ixceqwg_oO3ZSRoHP-G6R_08aXmYaHpxWTqLNVmkekb1KzdBG6jijD2CHA4KTnyHlHuS2rapwWWrPthnaVt4uF-mpLw468RR-Rpa-SpMigBf0n0FQq-ofd75DaelE3tP-WyTg/s1600/P1100462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPmbIEa_ixceqwg_oO3ZSRoHP-G6R_08aXmYaHpxWTqLNVmkekb1KzdBG6jijD2CHA4KTnyHlHuS2rapwWWrPthnaVt4uF-mpLw468RR-Rpa-SpMigBf0n0FQq-ofd75DaelE3tP-WyTg/s640/P1100462.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arbol de Piedra</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7I00WZ9a_5ODgfOAWbDUacbfQLTTDNsxu1s-eivFyhL2QzFwHfA9WYaXQ1QGqaC_uAfUA1neAEzdK5RcDvpBhNGiklJF_w5srK2Q2e5ENh0CWdX0tFSEyfUva81rl0KBilN-Hqs93Px52/s1600/P1100552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7I00WZ9a_5ODgfOAWbDUacbfQLTTDNsxu1s-eivFyhL2QzFwHfA9WYaXQ1QGqaC_uAfUA1neAEzdK5RcDvpBhNGiklJF_w5srK2Q2e5ENh0CWdX0tFSEyfUva81rl0KBilN-Hqs93Px52/s640/P1100552.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laguna Colorada</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
AUGUST 31: The
morning consisted of boiling loads of water and making rice and lentils for the
next two days to Laguna Chalviri.
Thankfully we brought 2.5 liters of fuel as boiling cold water at
altitude takes some time! Once packed,
we rounded the lake on a mediocre track and began our climb to the highest
altitude of my life! We camped about 7km
up the climb behind a boulder out of the wind, not wanting to go any further in
case the blue-bird sky changed for the worse.
In the morning, we would hit the high pass only if the weather looked
good. At over 15,500ft (4750m), this
will be my highest campsite of my trip.
At 1000ft higher than anywhere in the continental USA, the air is thin
and the nights are frigid. Loic and I
decided to sleep in my 2-person tent, as he’d get no sleep in his tent without
being able to close the zipper door. We
boiled water and put bottles of the stuff at our feet in our sleeping bags to
help with the warmth, I wore my jeans, thermal pants, and long underwear below,
my long sleeve shirt, sweatshirt, and down coat up top – in my sleeping
bag. Loic was wearing even more layers than
I and had two sleeping bags and a blanket!
We watched Django Unchained and went to sleep around 9pm. I got a few hours, but he didn’t sleep at all
and swore to never sleep above 4000m again.
Once we leave Bolivia, the only high elevation sections will be passes
between Argentina and Chile, where it will be possible to sleep below 4000m and
cross over in the morning/afternoon. The
closer we get to Patagonia, the lower elevation the mountain passes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ePCavQteXp17_wKrPZH2OyR2HqqCpUYUwGn-1EddwcndFLQU_Q4E6mcp6lv22A-O5Giya1_6AuaipURsjosjq_EQLBfko99wFxm5v4RENSkOxU7rx30c62WDXuyCinsxhVEgqPAPSZoF/s1600/P1100562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ePCavQteXp17_wKrPZH2OyR2HqqCpUYUwGn-1EddwcndFLQU_Q4E6mcp6lv22A-O5Giya1_6AuaipURsjosjq_EQLBfko99wFxm5v4RENSkOxU7rx30c62WDXuyCinsxhVEgqPAPSZoF/s640/P1100562.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our way up to 16,000ft</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfczIHO_jLSYl2zhg1vn5QigiCwdqREhZ2qErSkS2kxxrUafS10GN4_WdNGRp6HDCNiwODTiPCkT2Z1nJxPhNeqjyYTnIfh229KXeCXVKZcQ650X-XVWLQSY-vZK53xCqkwY2X9kojzHc/s1600/P1100583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfczIHO_jLSYl2zhg1vn5QigiCwdqREhZ2qErSkS2kxxrUafS10GN4_WdNGRp6HDCNiwODTiPCkT2Z1nJxPhNeqjyYTnIfh229KXeCXVKZcQ650X-XVWLQSY-vZK53xCqkwY2X9kojzHc/s640/P1100583.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll take mud over sand, thank you</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
tak<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
SEPTEMBER 1: Peering
out the window in the morning, I couldn’t see a single cloud, just snowcapped
peaks and a big red lake in a basin to the north. We packed up in the cold morning and
continued up the hill to the geysers near the top called Sol de Manana. To our delightful surprise, we were done with
all the steep climbing and just had the gentle track to follow to the top. We missed the unsigned junction for the
geysers, but found them by foot, what a treat!
A big geothermal field with at least 5 different holes shooting steam,
surrounded by red, green, blue, yellow, and orange colored rock greeted us. After a delicious thrown-together lunch
behind a boulder, we cranked out the remaining kilometers up to 16,130ft, our
new trip high point. This elevation is
only a few hundred feet lower than the Mount Everest Base Camp in Tibet! When I hit 16,020ft in Peru, I thought it’d
be my highest point because I hadn’t planned to do the Laguna’s Route. We took a few pictures and started down
quickly as it was only maybe 30F (-1) in the middle of the day. It was all downhill to Laguna Chalviri, a
beautiful bright blue and white lake, surrounded by red-rock volcanoes. We pulled up to the little thermal pool, and
jumped into the warm water, ahhhh. The
jeep tourists were nowhere to be seen and the owner of one of the two
restaurants came out to join us with his family. He offered us a room in his
restaurant/refugio for 25bs, which turned out to be a steal because later that
evening, after a group of tourists had come and eaten, he dished up a pot of
soup for us! And with Loic fast asleep
after our pasta dinner, I had it to myself.
Vegetable soup, guys come on! I
met a few of the jeep tourists staying the night there – really cool people all
on short 2-4 week holidays. A few people
even loaded me up with some tuna from the U.S. and powerbars from Germany! Thank you guys!! I had some free wine with them in the
evening, and turned in pretty late. I
fell asleep after watching an episode of the addicting Boardwalk Empire with
Steve Buschimi. The inside of the
refugio stayed above freezing all night, which was a relief, no frozen bottles
of water! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHKMUi7TYavlxWubj6VYGFAL3erOXkg_lga3CHSTEoi2SLwhkKK0AZs0cZxjDJNOCZJs5ySRy8SI8Hd01n_qg_hyphenhyphenFhxe0LGyJ_ndmxjYSOQVkwci9PjQL-6naqI-oXYRdDNS6Nx1COb3-m/s1600/P1100621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHKMUi7TYavlxWubj6VYGFAL3erOXkg_lga3CHSTEoi2SLwhkKK0AZs0cZxjDJNOCZJs5ySRy8SI8Hd01n_qg_hyphenhyphenFhxe0LGyJ_ndmxjYSOQVkwci9PjQL-6naqI-oXYRdDNS6Nx1COb3-m/s640/P1100621.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sol de Manana geothermal field with wild Vicunas in the foreground</div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdFT-ay4Ikp_fQH5p7Oo13P7BHBy_gEecxnWAESvMynYBz1vOCSjC0JnbFHC4vWc5QFfNWS5tvNS8b0Tg7sS2odP8OMNjc_0z1hCYKWkRz5fAk35DBnBYPB6I6s0FlfvjRK8GXarHbj0m/s1600/P1100661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdFT-ay4Ikp_fQH5p7Oo13P7BHBy_gEecxnWAESvMynYBz1vOCSjC0JnbFHC4vWc5QFfNWS5tvNS8b0Tg7sS2odP8OMNjc_0z1hCYKWkRz5fAk35DBnBYPB6I6s0FlfvjRK8GXarHbj0m/s640/P1100661.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The highest elevation I've ever achieved</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
SEPTEMBER 2: In the
morning, I had my normal Avena (cold oatmeal/porridge) breakfast, but after the
tourists left, we got to eat all their left-over pancakes, and there were a
ton! And they were cooked
perfectly!!! This really helped us as we
got a rather late start, having to first climb up and through the Desierto de
Dali, a colorful, rock-laden desert reminiscent of many Dali paintings. The climb started gradual, but steepened
towards the end, complimented with a strong energy-sapping headwind. It was tough going, but the track was decent
and I could really feel the strength the pancakes gave me! I wasn’t hungry until we descended the other
side and pushed through some sand to get to Laguna Verde for lunch. When the wind picks up, the algae from the
bottom of these lagunas stirs up to the surface, giving it its respective special
color. Laguna Colorada has a red tint,
Laguna Verde is bright turquoise, while Laguna Blanca is an almost whitish
blue. The wind was blowing at maybe 40
or 50mph (70-80kph) at Laguna Verde, making it a spectacular site. It was difficult to linger in the subzero
wind chill though, so we continued to the refugio on the south side of our
final laguna. The price was 60bs and we
didn’t have it, nor did we want to spend $10 US dollars on a little refugio, so
at 4pm, we started up the last pass of the Lagunas Route in the screaming wind,
with little energy to spare. We reached the
Bolivian immigration post at 6km, after about an hour of struggling in the
headwind, got our exit stamp, took a few pictures at the snowy ‘Welcome to
Chile’ sign and continued up the hill.
Towards the top, I could hardly see straight, so decided to walk. Loic followed suit and a half hour before sunset,
we were at the top, 15,300ft (4700m), greeted with a smooth, black layer of
Chilean pavement. Turning right, we
started downhill on the silky ‘carretera’.
Leaving 15,000ft we plummeted down into the Atacama Desert: My altimeter hitting 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9,
then 8,000ft. The temperature was
climbing from 32F (0C) steadily up to 62F (16C) as we could finally fill our
lungs with fresh, warm oxygen after nearly 3 weeks above 11,500ft. I was yelling out the altitude and
temperature to Loic – I kind of felt like I was skydiving! Despite my bruised and battered bike and
low-pressure tires, I managed to hit 75.1kph (47mph), a new high for maximum
speed. We watched the sunset directly in
front of us and pulled into a dry river bed 15 kilometers before San Pedro de
Atacama to enjoy the ‘clearest sky seen from land in the world’ and fell asleep
under shooting stars after a record-long day of 7 pedaling hours, over 6 of
those in the sand up and down high mountain passes. My last 7+ hour day was probably in
California in 2009. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4UNCpGCJA_1nCkHYguFRBe6NIeZC9NMSuW3fQJDfauBPz7jTy6JYOeLvdcH9Qmny6YHdc6hulT75tSEpp1SSMFZYDIkZFqiKAFZWVZCqnS8Tb1uUz-T4CVId3k-S9Ye0ohAvbgdApcWX/s1600/P1100697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4UNCpGCJA_1nCkHYguFRBe6NIeZC9NMSuW3fQJDfauBPz7jTy6JYOeLvdcH9Qmny6YHdc6hulT75tSEpp1SSMFZYDIkZFqiKAFZWVZCqnS8Tb1uUz-T4CVId3k-S9Ye0ohAvbgdApcWX/s640/P1100697.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thermal pool at Laguna Chalviri</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdvxQrjfx8NdfoUfN7nvHoSmqvhsgytUh4EVS4JD9ceQ4pXHb0lBmJrzDB04NqpG8B8PrEcFH12RbTdW-JK8XJF8mf4LbVjhqt5LIBxwdUeTAMGTXutxmIAhGLE8xcI1XFWgzFwWdW5_-/s1600/P1100762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdvxQrjfx8NdfoUfN7nvHoSmqvhsgytUh4EVS4JD9ceQ4pXHb0lBmJrzDB04NqpG8B8PrEcFH12RbTdW-JK8XJF8mf4LbVjhqt5LIBxwdUeTAMGTXutxmIAhGLE8xcI1XFWgzFwWdW5_-/s640/P1100762.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laguna Verde</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2gBj_f6jldjvI3kh0wcqkoUIysJM5L_mV3Tb4xsFW2RcPGBKn9USmqEJE5AxAOQ9npJ71dRZBWNQhoReNrlS-4hMmKDyXo5GdR3hP8tan82tqVwfj1L_kx8jf8AYNgW_9cX9U-Fe10McF/s1600/P1100802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2gBj_f6jldjvI3kh0wcqkoUIysJM5L_mV3Tb4xsFW2RcPGBKn9USmqEJE5AxAOQ9npJ71dRZBWNQhoReNrlS-4hMmKDyXo5GdR3hP8tan82tqVwfj1L_kx8jf8AYNgW_9cX9U-Fe10McF/s640/P1100802.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Country number 26 by bike!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
SEPTEMBER 3: We
packed the bikes and continued downhill to San Pedro de Atacama, our first town
in Chile. The difference is already very
apparent. The roads are silky perfect,
the cars and road signs are reminiscent of Europe. We rolled into town to get our passport stamp
and I got my Peruvian honey confiscated by the food folks, sad day, but my
other unmentionables were safely stowed away.
We found an awesome little hostel for $11 (an expensive country, wow)
and met a French couple and an older Australian guy named Nigel cycling around
the Americas (<a href="http://www.browsinaboutonabike.com/">www.browsinaboutonabike.com</a>). <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My to-do list I made last night is very long, including
picking up some bike parts, rotating my tires, patching and cleaning gear,
laundry, sewing some stuff, and making budget plans, time-goals, etc. But the most time-consuming item is now
complete, my blog of one of the most incredible yet challenging places I’ll
ever have the opportunity to cycle. I’ll
hang out in San Pedro de Atacama for a few days before heading back over the
mountains and into Argentina – call me crazy, but I’m thinking about taking the
harder unpaved way. Then after that, it
is smooth sailing down to Mendoza, over to Santiago/Valpairaiso and down the
Chilean coast, through the Lakes District of Southern Chile and Argentina, and
back into Chile for the Carratera Austral, the next desolate, unpaved,
challenging section of road between here and Ushuaia. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gmc4swqtZgkxIAZVqWGk2HPc_DKTd-64TOsoj3sKJP2SelxlgcxQ4g7_giYnt0ZYZGHCYXHQKt4_V1oEy-R4FjSCwe9VB-OIjgFbH8-ARDGw-TQL-yvXe-N3-EagmV3P729AinExBLwg/s1600/P1100846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gmc4swqtZgkxIAZVqWGk2HPc_DKTd-64TOsoj3sKJP2SelxlgcxQ4g7_giYnt0ZYZGHCYXHQKt4_V1oEy-R4FjSCwe9VB-OIjgFbH8-ARDGw-TQL-yvXe-N3-EagmV3P729AinExBLwg/s640/P1100846.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I will be doing with my time here in San Pedro</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This blog is far too long for comfort, so I salute you if
you actually managed to read all of it.
As always, remember that I am doing this ride for a cause, a very
important cause at that. If everyone
reading this pitches in a few bucks and spreads the good word, we’ll reach our
goal in no time. If I can survive the
Laguna’s Route, perhaps you could tell a friend about The Water Project and One
Ride One World. I promise my next blog
won’t be as long, thank you so much for your support and for tuning in!! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jvOnqQUlstzH9fHkOv16SSTZ72i50DxEYGhghyphenhypheniEYlHZ09SUAgv7rxhCjHIv4lf75qbTUWTmiMExSkYB7JLLYGpSka41RQBc3Xp3V_7UxaUSho9qNMPhhQLuhQuGJo5IRSD-2rMZWquD/s1600/P1100824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jvOnqQUlstzH9fHkOv16SSTZ72i50DxEYGhghyphenhypheniEYlHZ09SUAgv7rxhCjHIv4lf75qbTUWTmiMExSkYB7JLLYGpSka41RQBc3Xp3V_7UxaUSho9qNMPhhQLuhQuGJo5IRSD-2rMZWquD/s640/P1100824.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our late-day descent down to warm air and fresh oxygen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>SOME SUPER USEFUL INFORMATION FOR CYCLISTS ATTEMPTING THE
LAGUNAS ROUTE:</b><o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The following is our account of the route from Uyuni to San
Pedro de Atacama via San Juan de Rosario and the Lagunas, between August 23 and
September 2, 2013. We used the 16-page
PDF including maps and road conditions provided by the lovely folks at <a href="http://www.tour.tk/">www.Tour.TK</a> to find our way through to Chile, so
everything I mention will be used in conjunction with their PDF on SW
Bolivia. Keep in mind that we did this
in late August and it could be a completely different experience for you. In my opinion, the route isn’t the hardest
thing I’ve ever cycled, but the road conditions were the worst. If you are a good cyclist (can handle your
bike, 10 liters of water, and 12 days of food on sand and rocks, weaving often
to avoid obstacles, pedaling hard to not get stuck, etc), are in relatively
good shape, and have very warm weather gear, it is completely doable, though
averaging only 8kph (5mph) should be expected every day. A
summary of our account is located at the bottom of this post.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Uyuni, you can find most all the food you can imagine,
though there is no supermarket. The only
thing we couldn’t find was dry soy milk, though you can find the real thing at
the little store selling all the other milk products. Don’t forget extra toilet paper! Oh, and I ate a pizza at Arco Iris Pizzeria
and got sick... beware haha.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The road to Colchani is indeed quite horrible, though as of
August 2013, they are building a new paved road from Uyuni to at least Colchani. As of now, it is only half-complete and not
yet paved. There is a sign in Colchani
marking the junction for the Salar, whose ramp is 5km from the junction, can’t
miss it. From there, you can’t see Isla
Inkahuasi until 30km before it, but just head on the well-defined tracks going
West and you can’t go wrong. Apparently
compasses malfunction frequently, but the cheap one we picked up in Potosi
worked just fine. Also note that if you
are riding a steel bike, it’s best to use your compass at least a meter or two
away from the frame.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Isla Inkahuasi, the house very near the shore is that of
Don Alfredo, the island’s first resident.
He loves cyclists and has a big book of those who have passed
through. We stayed in his house in a
spare room (no electricity, sheets, bathroom, or running water) for 30
Bolivianos, the same price as the Refugio.
This price is in addition to the 30 you have to pay to come on the
island, well worth every penny, the little hike is beautiful. In the evening, Don will even use his battery
to charge your electronics for a few hours.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From Inkahausi, the tracks going almost straight South are
those that lead to the ramp coming off the Salar near Colcha K. There are actually two little Tiendas selling
crackers, beer, and other small things right at the Salar’s exit; you can even
find water. The little town is called
Puerto Chuvica.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The road to San Juan from the Salar is the worst of the
entire Laguna’s Route. Lots of pushing
in deep sand as Bolivians try to farm here, then wind just carries their sandy
tilled fields into the road and beyond.
Also, route finding is impossible as well, even with the PDF. We found a road heading just west of South
with power lines running along it. After
6km on this, there is a track heading West which all the Jeeps take, it leads
to San Juan. Looking West you will see a
mountain ridge coming down into the valley from right to left. You head around a little spit, then after a
few kilometers, hug the mountains on your right, going to the right-side of
another small, solitary mountain. There
is a sign on the way saying San Juan 24km.
It’s actually only 14km but really hard going. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In San Juan, there are plentiful hospedaje’s and
alojamiento’s. There are pretty big
tiendas where you can find lots of basic things including cookies, tuna, rice,
pasta, lentils, soup, beer, etc. Despite
what has been said, there is a lady selling fruits and vegetables 6 days a
week; just ask around for her house. She
also sells dried mashed potatoes. There
is a family selling bread, but didn’t have any when we checked. At Hospedaje Max, we stayed for 50 bs
(bargained from 80bs) each in a room with three beds. It’s very clean, quiet, has a kitchen (no
stove), has piping hot water, and electricity in the evening. Location is just opposite the big expensive
white tourist hotel. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Coming out of San Juan, the road is difficult for only a few
kilometers, and then you are cycling on the Salar de Chiguani, whose surface is
even better than the Salar de Uyuni. If
you have a tailwind, you’ll fly. It’s
like this until the military camp at 30km from San Juan and continues for a few
more kilometers along the railway. Make
sure to cross the railway and go through the military camp. We didn’t take water here, but it can
apparently be found in metal boxes by the railway. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This next part is rather important: The PDF branches off from the railway for
some 10km, and then begins to climb a hill (you can see the road in the
distance). No jeeps take this way
anymore as the road is just too sandy.
Save yourself hours of pushing uphill and skip the first 4200m pass
altogether. After leaving the railway on
the track on your left, keep following the main track alongside the mountains,
don’t climb anything, stay on flat ground keeping giant Volcano Ollague in
front of you. Halfway to the volcano,
there is a tiny village where you might find water and a windbreak. There are some pretty sandy sections that
require pushing, but it’s not too bad.
Eventually, you will arrive at the International Road at the base of the
Volcano. A few kilometers before
reaching the road, there are a few rock outcrops on the left side of the road,
perfect for camping. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you reach the International Road, turn left and follow
it for 21km. You will see the junction
for the sandy road on the PDF on your left after 13km. Keep on going another 8km as per the
PDF. The condition of the International
Road is fantastic as it is maintained and used by trucks, cars, etc. No washboard, very little sand, no pushing
necessary, though steep in the beginning.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After 20km, you will clear a small steep pass and have a
steep descent; at the bottom is the right-hand turn for Laguna Hedionda. It’s not marked but very well visible. Cross the sandy meadow and begin the visible
climb in front of you. The road is
absolutely horrendous, this time with big rocks, kind of like the annoying
sections on a mountain bike ride you just have to push through. It’s cycleable if you’re very very fit as
it’s extremely steep and requires much coordination to not hit the
basketball-size boulders lining the way.
Luckily it is short-lived and then you have an equally rocky descent to
and through a few salars. After the top
of the second little climb after 4km from the International Road, you’ll see a
myriad of tracks. Just take the least
sandy one and you’ll go through the little canyon in front of you, don’t go up
the tracks to the right… I’m not sure where they go, but they climb and you
don’t have to climb.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Reaching the first lagoon is quite spectacular and there are
a few abandoned houses that’d make a perfect campspot near the lake. I don’t believe you can drink out of any of
the lakes. They have something in them,
salt, borax, maybe arsenic, etc. Another
10 easy kilometers of relatively good road (good as in horrible, but you don’t
have to push) you’ll reach Ecolodge Los Flamencos, an expensive hotel on Laguna
Hedionda. The owner is very friendly and
you CAN buy bottled water here, though it’ll run you 15bs per 2 liters. They say the water from the spring is NOT
potable, and will sell you some of their own water supply for 2-3bs per
liter. We ate at their restaurant, 35bs
for a Tortilla de Verdura, rice, and some tomato and avocado – small but
delicious. They allowed us to camp
beside the hotel for wind protection.
They even have wifi and encouraged us to try it out, but we were
exhausted and didn’t check to see if it was working.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The road through the rest of the lagoons isn’t as easy going
as the PDF makes it out to be, but the climb up to the 4700m pass isn’t as
sandy as the PDF states. For us, it was
all cyclable except a few rocky sections near the end. We made the mistake of not going to the right
to avoid climbing the pass. Most jeeps
seem to go to the right to avoid it. We
had a snowstorm at the top, which wasn’t so pleasant. With no visibility (blizzard conditions) and
no sign for the Hotel de Desierto, we missed the junction. A jeep driver told us earlier that you could
perhaps pass the night in one of the rooms meant for the jeep drivers at the
hotel for much cheaper than the hotel itself.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From here the road is hard-going for only perhaps 5 to 8
kilometers, and then is fine thereafter.
It also doesn’t undulate as much as the elevation profiles on the PDF
indicate. There is no steep downhill and
uphill near the abandoned house, just a long steady climb. The abandoned house can’t be missed, looks
like a good wind shelter too. From here,
you will enter the national park, where route-finding is no longer such an
issue and the road is actually somewhat maintained with a machine all the way
until Chile. It is still very hard going
but there is little pushing necessary.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Arbol de Piedra is on your left near many other cool
rock formations. There is a toilet here
and an edifice to hide behind for wind protection. Up until this point, we have had winds from
the North, not the southwest as we had expected, thank God. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The track down to Laguna Colorada is quite sandy and
requires some frustrating downhill pushing.
You’ll see the lake from a ways away.
You pay the 150bs for a 4-day park entrance here and continue another
100m around the corner to all the refugios.
Unfortunately, the nice refugios are reserved for jeep tourists, so we
were stuck in the middle one with 6 beds.
Other than a little table for cooking, at 30bs, it wasn’t a good
place. The toilet was clogged and hadn’t
been cleaned in weeks, nor had running water.
The beds are situated on concrete blocks too small for the mattress so
it’s easy to lean and go overboard during the night. There are cold showers, flushing toilets, and
tap water just next door at the owners’ house.
There is a tienda that was closed while we were there, but the owner of
our refugio has a little tienda of her own, selling crackers, cookies, beer,
etc. No pasta or rice that I could
see. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The track around the lake is in decent condition and there
is one more refugio that is supposedly nicer along the way. There is a junction a few kilometers down the
road, stay right to cut off a kilometer.
At ten km from the park entrance and refugios is a turnoff to the right
for the other nicer refugio, some 2-3km away.
They are visible. At 15km, the
junction for Sol de Manana appears, though there is no more sign for Laguna
Colorada, only a sign for protecting the environment. There is a little canyon here that would make
a great windbreak as well. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The road up to the pass is in great condition, but is pretty
steep in the beginning. When you begin
nearing the geysers, you’ll see two options, a road to the right and one to the
left of a mountain right in front of you.
Climb up towards the volcano, and then turn left to go directly to the
geysers. The old customs sign as
indicated in the PDF no longer exists.
There is no signed junction for Sol de Manana and we missed the real
junction. So, we instead walked which
was simple and we got to see more than just the main geyser on the road. There are 5 or 6 active fields. The big geysers can’t be seen from the road,
but are down in a little depression. You
will see a few small buildings and a cylindrical tower, the junction is just
before these to the right. If you miss
it, there is another small geyser alongside the road in another kilometer or
two. There is also an abandoned house
near the main geyser. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The road undulates a little further and there are a few
buildings, perhaps for research that would make good windbreaks, though at
5000m (16,400ft) it’d be a cold night.
It might be better to sleep near the geysers as the ground is nice and
warm. After the pass, the descent to
Laguna Chalviri is decent and the view is extraordinary. Once at the lake, you’ll first pass a
national park office, which seems to have an empty room with a door and dirt
floor, but we didn’t ask if we could camp there. I’d recommend continuing 1 kilometer to the
hot springs and few restaurants. There
IS a refugio here, where the owner will not only let you have a bed for 25bs,
but will feed you all the tourists’ leftovers.
We had a pot of cold vegetable soup in the evening and 16 delicious
pancakes waiting for us in the morning with coffee, tea, dulce de leche, and
marmalade all for free. The hot springs
are also a delight, very warm and with a great view of the lake. For 25bs, this place is a cyclists’ oasis!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The road from here through the Dali desert is gradual at
first as says the PDF, but steepens quite a lot at the end. It’s in good condition, no pushing required
if you can cycle on a narrow tire track.
The descent to Laguna Verde is a few kilometers longer than the PDF
indicates and some pushing is still required at the end. I’m not sure if it was just the day, but it
was extremely windy here. The stream crossing
between the two lakes is deep, but there are rocks laid out and it can be
carefully done without getting wet.
There is a chain of refugios near Laguna Blanca, then another nicer one
a kilometer or two further. The owner
has water (treat it) and beds for 60bs, a bit out of budget, but it looked nice
on the inside. The climb from here is
hard with the wind, but the track is in good condition until the paved
road. Note that the paved road does not
start at the customs post as says the PDF, rather is dirt all the way to the
principal road heading to San Pedro. We
didn’t have to pay any exit fee to leave the country and were granted 24 hours
to immigrate to Chile, which is located in San Pedro de Atacama. I have read blogs of cyclists who have
skipped this and snuck through Chile east to Argentina, which I wish I would
have known possible before we descended 2200m to San Pedro!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Summary, changes for the PDF: <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
San Juan has vegetables.
The climb from Chiguana should be done on the international road, though
it adds 15-20km. Wifi access and water
for purchase at Laguna Hedionda. No
steep climb to and from the abandoned house near Arbol de Piedra. There is a turnoff for a refugio 10km south
of the refugios near Laguna Colorada on the PDF. There is no sign indicating Laguna Colorada
19km north of Sol de Manana. There is no
customs (aduana) sign near Sol de Manana.
Laguna Chalviri has a fantastic refugio, not only a restaurant. The descent from the pass in Desierto de Dali
to the junction at Laguna Blanca is 18-19km, not 15km. There is a second refugio 2km south of the refugios
near Laguna Blanca on the PDF, but is more expensive than the others. The 5km road from the Bolivian customs office
to the main road (in Chile) is not paved.
All refugios will exchange dollars at 6 to 1 (normally 7 to 1). There is a machine that helps maintain the
road a bit between the park entrance 10km north of Laguna Colorada all the way
south to the border. The coldest
nighttime outside temperature we experienced was -12C at 4650m. The pass near Sol de Manana and the Bolivian
customs post were closed due to snow when we began the route, but opened a few
days later as a machine plowed snow on the road. Winds were out of the North giving us a
tailwind every day except the first two days on the Salar (headwind out of the
West) and the last day through Laguna Verde (crosswind out of the Southwest). We had a sandstorm near Colcha K, reducing
visibility to 50m, and a blizzard with 2cm accumulation near Hotel de Desierto. Good luck!<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-71727606757488398752013-08-21T12:04:00.002-07:002013-08-21T12:04:12.193-07:00August 11-21: Sucre to Uyuni, Bolivia<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The time I spent in Sucre held some of the
best days of my trip thus far. Loic and
I quickly made friends with all the great people staying at our guesthouse –
James and Rebecca from the U.K., Gael, Nicolas, and Juliana from France, Christa
from Germany, and Grace from New York/San Fran, plus a few others, but our
group of 6-8 were glued together. I saw
very little of Sucre in the end, aside from a restaurant one night and the
market for shopping or juice runs. The
night of the Barbeque saw us up at 4am, still going hard and Sunday afternoon
saw us rock climbing up above the city. Monday
was still the weekend for us, and Tuesday James and I finally decided to go
easy and just watch a movie. Life of Pi,
highly recommended. Gael cooked
incredible crepes, vegetarian lasagna, etc and it was all-in-all a grand old
time. Hours of hanging out in the
courtyard and I managed to expand my collection of movies to 50 in addition to
a few TV seasons… But best of all, I got
new music!!! You can always count on a
Brit with a computer to have the best music around, so from Rebecca and James
came tons of great artists. Most of the
people here are studying at the nearby spanish school and I was very close to
staying here for next few weeks to volunteer and study, but have decided to
push on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Leaving this great family behind was sad,
and I certainly felt the college-days-drinking to weigh me down on the hills
outside the city, but I soon got back into my rhythm and we climbed from
7,700ft up to 13,000ft over the next three days through beautiful mountain
scenery to Potosi. The new music
certainly helped, and I had plenty to look at, passing by dry braided river
valleys and giant cacti. Nearing Potosi,
we could start to make out Cerro Rico, the mountain that has been mined from
back in the 16<sup>th</sup> century for its abundant silver. At one point in time, Potosi was one of the
largest cities in the world, but at a cost.
The mine has since claimed over 8 million lives, and is still irresponsibly
used today for tin and zinc.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">We arrived in Potosi, found a decent
hostel, although all the clientele seemed to be French (what is this!?), and
tagged along with a French-Swiss couple to swim in a geothermal lake in a
nearby canyon. At 70ft deep, it was no
cakewalk for me (not a deep water person…), but at 12,000ft, the warm water was
much appreciated. The next morning, we
did a 5-hour tour of the Potosi mine, visiting the refinery, walking through
the entire mountain end-to-end, and then partying with some locals afterward
for some important anniversary. The
inside of the mine had parts only perhaps 3ft tall and there was a section
where you had to climb up three ladders through a narrow, bored-out hole. Not a claustrophobics dream, but well worth
it to see the maze of tunnels and brilliant blue-green stalagmites within. The mine has several cooperatives attempting
to make the workplace safe and organized, but it is far from so. The workers go with their own equipment,
which is usually nothing more than a few sticks of dynamite, 96% alcohol and
coca leaves, literally. None of them use
expensive masks and life expectancy is short.
We had our own swig of the 96% alcohol, which is mere rubbing alcohol,
and emerged into daylight to run a few more errands for the ride to Uyuni. In the evening, we went out with some French
folks on our mine tour for some local soup and wine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">We pedaled out of Potosi around mid-day;
little did we know that the ride to Uyuni harbors extraordinary scenery, a
rock-climbers dream really – if only I had brought my shoes! Near the end of our first day out of the
city, we dropped down into a canyon that resembles bits and pieces of Bryce
Canyon, with huge red-rock pinnacles and vertical walls left and right. Oh, the climbing possibilities. We could have continued cycling, but called
it an early day, stunned by the scenery and wishing to see it by
moonlight. We perched the tents out of
view of the road on a sandy bench above a dry canyon and watched a nearly full
moon rise above the surreal desert.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The next day was even better, as the road
undulated up and down through red-rock canyons, before plummeting down to a
sandy, salty valley. I found which
artists of my new music collection held the same rhythm as my pedaling, adding
a whole new perspective to the scenery around me. We neared 14,000ft a few times, but could get
away with shorts and a sweatshirt, which is always more comfortable to cycle
hilly roads. In the evening, we found a
dry riverbed to camp and had a big pasta dinner, retiring to our separate tents
to watch movies. Lord of War was my
choice – oh Nicolas Cage, you bad man. The
night was relatively warm, not dipping below 32 and the moon and stars made it
possible to leave headlamp in the bags!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">On our last day to Uyuni, we cranked out
40km quickly on the flat altiplano-like landscape, leaving the beautiful
canyons behind. With 30km left to go
after lunch, the infamous southwesterly wind picked up dead ahead, and coupled
with a few 1000ft climbs, wore us right down.
With a little Polica and Forest Swords playing, I managed to tackle the
final hill, the view of the vast Salar de Uyuni opening up before us. We descended down, thrown side to side with
the turbulent winds. The gusts were so
strong on the downhill, even my little Bolivian flag snapped! Thankfully, we rolled downhill all the way
into Uyuni, later finding a descent hostel to pass a few days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The town of Uyuni is really quite
horrible. The paved road ends here and
dusty roads lead through a very bleak desert town. Poverty is everywhere except for the few
blocks around the tourist center in the middle of town. The ride to see the Train Graveyard was
difficult against the wind, carrying all the towns’ trash around the
desert. The museum itself is incredible,
with dozens of rusting and broken locomotives and boxcars amidst the
orange-yellow desert landscape. A photographer’s
paradise, my camera battery decided to die, but I’m thinking of returning
tomorrow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">After tomorrow’s rest day, we’ll be cycling
out to and across the Salar de Uyuni, the world’s largest salt flat. The vast white expanse is even used by passing
satellites to recalibrate their altimeters.
We will spend a few nights on the ancient lake, visiting the famous
Incahuasi island in the middle, then traverse south, using compasses and a
great PDF made by cyclists over the years to meet up with the famous Laguna’s
Route which leads through the isolated Southwest Bolivian high desert and down
to Chile. There is one town along the
way near the beginning, which is so small and isolated that we won’t even be
able to find bread or fruit/veggies.
Then it is 300 desolate kilometers on sand and dirt-track “roads” to the
border of Chile. We will pass by almost
a dozen beautiful lakes riddled with flamingos, including one lake that is
bright red, then through the Desierto de Dali, which looks as though it has inspired
Dali paintings. There is no food along
the way and water will be scarce. We
will be required to carry 12 days of food and we’ll be carrying nearly 3
gallons after every water-source we come across. We will hit a new trip-high of 16,500ft near
some geysers… I suspect this to be the
hardest part of my journey. Stay tuned,
I’ll be back in two weeks!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span lang="EN-US"></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcxq-YehIOewtjHgzGTKvEoOeY6TrsZ3WZxlB3aMtH7Tb4WhIuoL9xETnmV43gM7_j2QtGItysED2n61bePmAU7PvuJ9yVo6iVeQfanNsWT37f5YHqz86_I_tFLCpSJFXEtuahWIyG7V9/s1600/P1090681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcxq-YehIOewtjHgzGTKvEoOeY6TrsZ3WZxlB3aMtH7Tb4WhIuoL9xETnmV43gM7_j2QtGItysED2n61bePmAU7PvuJ9yVo6iVeQfanNsWT37f5YHqz86_I_tFLCpSJFXEtuahWIyG7V9/s320/P1090681.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Loic and I with 12 days of breakfasts, lunches, dinners, </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
and snacks for the crazy road ahead! Three gallons of water</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
and one of gasoline later and we´re set to go.</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-80122238329258002312013-08-10T09:17:00.002-07:002013-08-10T09:32:31.746-07:00July 28 - August 10: La Paz to Sucre, BoliviaLa Paz was one of my favorite big cities in South America, mostly for the modern, positive, intelligent energy about it. It is nice to be somewhere where I can walk around alone at night and know nothing is going to happen. You can also find everything under the sun, from good tents and outdoor gear to 5 types of Avena to netbooks and other electronic necessaries. And if in the touristy area (a 15 minute walk from the casa), a veggie-burger can be had! It is all built in a steep canyon, so there is no flat ground, which reminded me of Medellin, Colombia. When we rolled into La Paz, it was one day after Loic’s 32nd birthday, so he picked up a cake and champaign and the Casa got quite wild. For the next few days, if not hanging out with all the cool people at the casa de ciclistas, I was out soaking it up while running my errands. When Loic and I returned from doing the World’s Most Dangerous Road with our own bikes (not a good idea without suspension), I had a fantastic surprise! The Belgian couple I had cycled through Ecuador with for a week in 2010 was laying over at the casa! This is their third trip in Latin America and they’re traveling from Paraguay to Lima on a much shorter trip this time through. Check them out at www.cyclocosmos.com! Loic also knew of their blog, so recognized them too. The next day, I picked up my netbook and we all went out for a fantastic lunch, dinner, and ice cream.
</br></br>
June 31: After a quick run to the best supermarket I’ve ever seen in Latin America, we were on the road around 11am. The 1500ft climb back up to El Alto – on the same route we had descended – went surprisingly smoothly. After a quick 1.5 hour climb, we were fighting the El Alto traffic, and as the building scenery began to shape back into desolate altiplano, the traffic got better, but was still heavy throughout the day, especially with trucks. This road connects La Paz and El Alto to the remainder of Bolivia, so it wasn’t expected to be spectacular… Workers are constructing a two way highway, and it is mostly finished, so we are able to have two giant, freshly-paved lanes to ourselves most of the time. Sometimes we have to carry the bikes over parts of the road where bridges haven’t been built or dodge rocks laid on the new tarmac to keep cars off of it. As always, we got some water and began searching for a good stealth camp spot around 4:30. Because of the evil spectacular supermarket, I am carrying 7 dinners, lunches, and breakfasts’ which I certainly felt on the way up to El Alto. The second place we checked out was perfect, near to but hidden from the road by construction dirt piles, and in a decent spot for the suns’ morning warmth. I cooked some soy protein I’ve been carrying since Northern Peru and ‘Near East’ rice pilaf, which brought me back to my childhood, when ma would make it after I got home from school! And now lying in the tent, Deerhunter playing, I can blog fresh with my new computer! Just have to remember that the moon doesn’t rise until the morning, so I’ll have to catch some of the famous altiplano starry sky.
</br></br>
August 1st: The night brought freezing temperatures so we had to wait awhile for our bottles to thaw and ice on the tents to melt. Waiting until around 9am also means the strong wind can get a chance to gain some force, and it has been mostly at our backs for two weeks now! So, half of the time on our own highway, the wind was pushing us quickly along and we had nearly 70 kilometers on our computers by lunchtime! The second half of the day was spent with the trucks and busses on the old road as the new one hasn’t yet been completed further south. Instead of slowing down before passing, trucks usually just honk a few seconds before flying by… What is worse is that oncoming vehicles pass others using our lane, hauling ass in our direction allowing us only 2 or 3 feet of space. I once spat on a pickup that got way too close, which brought me back to 2007 in Missouri when I sprayed water at an angry pickup yelling at all our riders. He then stopped down the road, drunk as ever, and screamed at us until a restaurant owner calmed him down and we could proceed. So maybe it is best to suck it up and not get aggressive! An uneventful work day, we covered some 135km, my longest day of the trip so far, and set up camp behind an electricity converting station – our last night in the altiplano for a little while. The huge distance we covered means we will probably reach Cochabamba in 3 ½ days, when it should normally take 5. The nights’ stars were extraordinary and I began watching the first season of the TV series Terranova.
</br></br>
August 2nd: The sun hit our tents early this morning, but it seems that we can never get out much earlier than 8:30 or 9:00 unless our tents aren’t well hidden. We rode a few kilometers then began climbing out of the altiplano in the direction of Cochabamba, which lies at only 8,500ft, whereas the altiplano averages 12,000ft or more. On our way up, we passed a big town celebration, not unusual, so we stopped and talked with the locals for a while. They were all dressed very traditionally, which is normal for the women, but atypical for the men. Around 2pm, we reached the top of the climb at 14,500ft, snow in places on the sides of the road. The descent was frustrating as it rolled up and down, which is tough after climbing all morning. We stopped in a town for water but there was no tienda (store), so we searched for a tap and found one that would deliver only 1 ½ liters of dirty water before spurting only air; we’d have to be careful with water use tonight! We found the perfect campsite, near the road, but hidden and with a huge view into a canyon. Rice, lentils, peanut, and tomato sauce dinner around a little fire followed by an episode of Terranova. Even at 13,000ft, our new location in the mountains made for a warm evening and it didn’t drop below 32 inside the tent, though the bike and tent fly had to be de-iced in the morning.
</br></br>
August 3rd: After drying the tents, packing everything up and burning our trash, we were out at 9am, knowing we were 105km from Cochabamba and it was possible if the winds were to cooperate. After 20 difficult kilometers of climbing and descending through red rock canyon, we came upon a tiny village on market day. A population of perhaps 50, Pongo had farmers and locals from other towns swelling its one street, buying and selling fresh fruits from the lowlands, alpaca fur from the highlands, and everything produced in between. We picked up some bread and bananas, talked a bit with some youngsters, and began a huge descent from 14,200ft down to 8,500ft. The rough road made it difficult to surpass 40mph, but the views were worth it. Fighting headwinds for an hour, we turned into the valley in which Cochabamba lies and had the winds at our backs. A local cyclist joined our pace-line and we flew into town, stopping only at the supermarket along the way. It was a fantastic feeling knowing we wouldn’t be rolling through dangerous outskirts after dark. Around 4pm, we began looking for a good place to pass the night, but after checking over 20 places, riding an extra 8km through town starving and tired, we had nothing. No place has wifi unless you pay over $10, which is for the fancier hotels, and several places wouldn’t accept the bikes. At 5:30 we settled on a relatively expensive alojamiento for $5 and I took a cold shower, with the water turning off halfway through… Later in the evening, we went out for a huge dinner and ice cream, then to the plaza to watch some awesome dancing. We’ll spend our rest day here before continuing on to Sucre, on a notoriously horrible road made partly of cobblestones!
</br></br>
I’ve realized blogging daily isn’t really an option, but instead I’ll fill you in on the necessaries! Not a whole lot happens in Cochabamba on Sundays, so it was truly a day of actual rest, as rest days sometimes are hiking or rock climbing days. The big event today was the long trek across town to the Hipermaxi supermarket, so there you have it. I saw a poster for a reggae festival last night, should’ve arrived a day earlier! Riding out of Cochabamba late on Monday, we stopped for some time at a nice restaurant on a lake; the whole scene reminded me a bit of Central America. It’s nice to be able to wear a short sleeved shirt and shorts during the day again! Beginning a big climb, we had a really strong headwind, so decided to call it an early day and continue the following morning when we knew the wind would die down. We camped in an awesome eucalyptus grove, well away from the sound and lights from the road, the stars were phenomenal and I was back to not using the rainfly.
</br></br>
The climb was fairly straight-forward, reaching 12,500ft and crossing a town celebrating Bolivia’s Independence Day. Everybody was dressed up dancing and having a blast, and to my surprise there was no alcohol. We reached the crossroads for our ‘back way’ down to Sucre earlier than expected and began cycling on the cobblestone road, and pitched our tents after dark after finding it difficult to camp with all the small farms and houses everywhere. Luckily, we had a nice sunrise over the mountains! The scenery in this area is incredible, perhaps the best since riding out of Copacabana, and reminded me a bit of northern Ecuador for the large rolling hills and deep, green valleys.
</br></br>
What group of people gathered around, trying to decide what material to use to build a road, and finally choosing river rocks? I want to know. So yea, cycling on river rocks for 40 miles is quite taxing, and I got my first flat tire of the trip, which took an hour to fix as instead of one hole, I must have rolled through a small goat head bush and had upwards of 10 holes, ruining my tube. Then one of my two new tubes was broken from the beginning. Needless to say, we were excited to finally reach the dirt road at a large town where we could resupply. But then leaving town, we realized the dirt might actually be worse as everything got extremely dusty, from my chain to my lungs, with the passing cars. We found a decent place to sleep in a dry riverbed, but the way the wind was blowing, everything soon became dusty with passing cars.
</br></br>
In the morning, we attempted to clean up some of the dusty mess, burned our trash and took off pretty early. It was a long, dirty descent into a desert canyon where temperatures reached a stifling 85 degrees, which is difficult to handle having been acclimatized to such cold temperatures of the Altiplano. Loic got a flat tire, his first since we’ve been traveling together, and I dealt with a bout of heat exhaustion and dehydration. Luckily we had reached the paved road, but it was all uphill to Sucre now. Stopping early from exhaustion, we waited out the heat and went to be early. I awoke in the middle of the night and it was 81 degrees in the tent, wow! Much different than 24 degrees a few days ago.
</br></br>
In the morning, we left early to beat the heat, carrying 7 liters of water each, and were cycling along a large braided river. The way rose and fell, usually 150ft at a time, making cycling quite frustrating, but after a few hours, we left the river and began up the 4000ft climb to Sucre. Having climbed quite a bit already alongside the river, the heat wasn’t as stifling as yesterday. During the day, we normally say hello to 50 to 100 Bolivians on the side of the road, talking with a few of them about our travels, but today was a day just for earphones and I didn’t feel bad to ignore those wanting to ask me where I was from and where I am going, as it is always the same. Where are you from? Canada. Where are you going? Argentina. Aren’t you tired? Yes. Afterall, today is Day 100!
</br></br>
The climb was quite steep, and we weren’t making great time, but we held onto the back of a slow-moving truck for 45 minutes and were able to reach Sucre by late afternoon, checking into a hostel with tons of travelers, most studying Spanish at the school next door. We partied a bit last night, are doing a barbeque thing this evening, and perhaps headed out to go rock climbing tomorrow, so we’ll be here for a few days! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-44506037279831996612013-07-28T07:55:00.000-07:002013-07-28T07:55:13.278-07:00July 15-28: Cusco, Peru to La Paz, Bolivia<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Hola! Please
understand that I no longer have a tablet and haven’t found a computer cheap
enough to pick up, so these blogs will be typed for now. Here is an update on the first two weeks out
of Cusco... When in Cusco, I was taking
care of my father, doing hospital runs, and getting things organized for entering
Bolivia, yet in my final days there, I realized I had to make a big
decision. For the sake of my safety,
cycling through Bolivia solo wasn’t an option and I had one chance to depart
with a partner, Loic from France, who I had introduced in my previous
post. Loic and I met briefly in front of
a grocery store in Piura, Peru two months prior. He has been cycling from France, around the
world via Japan and Canada for the past two years. Here is his blog: <a href="http://www.loicvelomonde.com/">www.loicvelomonde.com</a>. In the days following my departure, my Dad
made his way home and is on the path back to good health in Southern California
with our family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">On July 16<sup>th</sup>,
Loic and I left Cusco, on a fun downhill into a canyon, then through the mountains
a few days en route for the Altiplano.
The Altiplano is the second-largest high plateau on Earth (behind Tibet)
that stretches from Southern Peru to Northern Argentina and it is largely
located in Bolivia. Its average altitude
is 12,300ft, making it tough to breath and bringing some cold nighttime temperatures. We stealth-camped for 4 nights, in the
forest, behind a boulder, in an abandoned house, then the last night in a
construction site, where we got caught by the guard! He made us pay a small fee of less than $1 a
person and all was fine. On the pass
coming from the mountains over to the Altiplano, we had some snow, but it has
otherwise been dry, but very cold being the austral winter. Once on the Altiplano, we had a huge tailwind
that helped us achieve 90km days at ease.
We also ran into 15 touring cyclists, from Argentina, Australia, France, Belgium, Netherlands, USA, and even Japan!
It’s pretty odd considering the rarity of running into other touring
cyclists on the road. On the 20<sup>th</sup>,
we reached Puno, Peru and rested a day, walking around the town a bit. It is a nice town, but as in most of Peru,
the majority of the buildings are left unfinished as to avoid paying property
taxes, a loophole in the system. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Riding out
of Puno was a treat as we caught our first glimpses of Lake Titicaca, the largest
lake in South America and highest navigable lake in the world. We rode along the shore with the wind at our
back to what Loic calls a 5-star stealth camping spot. When no cars are passing and we see that no
one is watching us, we dive into the bushes, and this particular spot happened
to overlook the lake and Isla Del Sol in the middle. After a rare treat of Mac and Cheese I picked
up at the tourist supermarket in Cusco, the full moon rose stunningly before
us, giving us a reason to turn off the headlamps and enjoy our last night in
Peru.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In summary,
I had a very love-hate relationship with Peru.
For cycling, it is very difficult, with choking mountain passes and
extremely vicious dogs, yet after over 2 months in the country, I developed a
soft spot for the generous people and sweeping landscapes. I will certainly be back to do some trekking
and mountaineering, but don’t think I’ll be trying to cycle through it again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The next morning,
we awoke with a beautiful sunrise that quickly warmed our tents and thawed our
frozen water bottles. We continued along
the lakeshore and crossed into Bolivia, my 35<sup>th</sup> country and 26<sup>th</sup>
by bike, rolling into Copacabana in time for lunch and some sightseeing. Bolivia is safer than Peru in terms of
violence, but is the 2<sup>nd</sup> poorest nation in Western Hemisphere (Haiti
is first), so will be difficult to cycle through. Lack of hygiene and access to healthy food
are among the main issues facing cyclists, altitude aside. To prepare, I have a tub of Soy Protein
Powder and numerous food additives like Omega’s, various seeds, etc. In addition, I have reverted to being Pescetarian
after nearly 4 years of being vegetarian/vegan, to ensure I get the nutrients I
need. In the countryside, Bolivia
differs from Central and northern South America in that it is impossible to
form a complex protein without meat.
Beans, Lentils, and other compliments to the standard rice and french
fries staples simply do not exist. The
diet is high in energy for the poor farmers of the Altiplano, yet low in
nutrition, especially when excluding meat and chicken. Bolivia is a huge Quinoa grower, a superfood
known for its complex protein, but unfortunately it is largely exported and
sold at a high premium to more developed countries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In
Copacabana, we found the cheapest accommodation I have come across while
traveling – $2.10 – which includes a dirty sunken bed and toilet with no
running water or paper. For a cyclist with his
own sleeping bag and toilet paper, it is just perfect. I went up to the mirador in Copacabana for a
good view of the city and lake, then Loic and I capped the night off with a
game of pool and trout dinner, making it an equally fantastic night as the
last, but in civilization this time!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Cycling
across the isthmus in the middle of Lake Titicaca awarded us with the finest
scenery since central Peru… It went
something like this: a vast lake hundreds of meters below us on a silky-smooth
traffic-free road with jagged snowcapped peaks in the backdrop. We met up with Inaki, another southbound
cyclist from Basque country and cycled with him to La Paz. That evening, we camped next to an abandoned house
and had our last views of Lake Titicaca in the morning while leaving. The ride into La Paz through the busy suburbs
of Rio Seco and El Alto was an adrenaline-junkies dream, dodging minibuses,
tuk-tuk’s, missing sewer-covers, and wild packs of dogs, all at 13,400ft. At the edge of a steep cliff, we got our
first view of La Paz, the Altiplano’s largest city and highest capitol city in the world, sprawling down into a
canyon adjacent to the plateau. A long,
bumpy decent took us into the heart of the modern city and to the Casa de
Ciclistas, a home just for traveling
cyclists in the city center run by a really generous person, Cristian. Here, we met Henrik from Denmark, Peycho from
Bulgaria, and Gabriel from USA cycling north and Aurore from France (with her
dog!), Dmitri from Russia, and Michael from Germany heading south. We partied all evening, then relaxed and did laundry
on our first full rest day. Some of the
cyclists left and new cyclists from Israel and Austria arrived later in the
day. In the evening, I went to the supermarket
and paid a fortune for 'Love Crunch', a cereal from Washington! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">On our
second day in the Casa, Dmitri made pancakes for everyone and Loic and I
explored La Paz in the afternoon, which is one of my favorite cities in South
America. I searched high and low for a
netbook computer but couldn’t find anything for a reasonable price, we visited
the Witches Market, Black Market, the University, Plazas and Arcades… In the evening, Inaki made everyone Spanish Omelets and swapped cycling stories and tips over several bottles of
cheap Bolivian wine, having a grand ol’ time.
We still have to print out a PDF and maps of our route through Southwest
Bolivia, the most desolate area of my trip, where we will have to carry 10 days
of food and plenty of water, and will be cycling on marginal roads, mainly made
of sand and 4x4 tracks. We will spend a
few more days here, helping the Casa owner Cristian with a few chores and picking up
some supplies for the road ahead. But
for now, Loic made everyone French Toast so I’ve gotta go!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">FUN FACT: </span>Breakfast on the road… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Avena is the easiest, lightest, and most
readily-available foodstuff here in Bolivia and is what I eat 5-6 days a
week. It is like oatmeal, but is finely
ground and can be mixed with cold water, rather than having to think about
assembling the stove with freezing fingers.
I mix brown sugar, soy protein or dry quinoa milk, flax, bird, and sesame seed into
the mix and have it right after waking up.
I normally also have a yogurt to get some pro-biotics up in the
club. Then sometimes I take a second
breakfast right before we leave or at the first restaurant we come across. This usually consists of rice, potatoes, and
a fried egg and costs between $1 and $2.
Occasionally I can find a Chinese restaurant and will eat the Tortilla de
Verdura which isn’t a tortilla at all, but is tomatoes and onions scrambled
with an egg or two, served over white rice. When in the cities, I track down
granola or if in a touristy city like Cuzco, pancakes or crepes!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYndGXkL_AqllsaUPurspUG2stfP5ElaAC28zf9-n8Wen1gC7QglJ-cf8KjsviTpupoX1JDzZ3A1I9JaXJxajGa_3SSWZrK9pHYDd0-ZkvsuBsSBOsT2wDYjJh_OUPFaT_ImlEZd-VMIJ/s1600/DSC06345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYndGXkL_AqllsaUPurspUG2stfP5ElaAC28zf9-n8Wen1gC7QglJ-cf8KjsviTpupoX1JDzZ3A1I9JaXJxajGa_3SSWZrK9pHYDd0-ZkvsuBsSBOsT2wDYjJh_OUPFaT_ImlEZd-VMIJ/s320/DSC06345.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-75468997179408125662013-07-15T20:31:00.001-07:002013-07-15T20:31:49.116-07:00A big change of plans... Dad and I separate:As most of you already know, we arrived in Huanuco, Peru after an incident with a vicious dog, bussed to Cusco and have not left since. We both got sick at the end of June and went to the doctor shortly thereafter; I was diagnosed with Giardia Lamblia and Scott was diagnosed with Typhoid Fever. After several lazy days of eating certain foods and taking medication, my parasite cleared up, yet my Dad was not getting better. After a week, I left to Copacabana, Bolivia to visit Heidi for a few days before she goes off to a rigorous Yoga Instructor certification course. When I returned, my father's condition had not improved, so we decided to return to the hospital. As it turns out, he was misdiagnosed by the first doctor, yet the consecutive doctors could not diagnose his sickness. After countless tests and blood samples, he is still very sick and has been sleeping all day with fatigue and weakness for almost three weeks now.<br />
<br />
After discussing the options, we have decided it is best that he return home to receive the proper medical care and regain his weight and strength in the comforts of good food and warmth (our hostel is not heated and gets down to 40 at night). Likewise, it will help him to be at a lower altitude (Cusco is 11,500ft up). With his sickness as it is and Bolivia being notorious for contaminated food and harsh weather conditions, it would be completely irrational for him to continue. That said, I am well enough to continue (though I'm fighting a stupid cold) and have the opportunity to ride with a partner, a frenchman my age who is cycling around the world. I don't know how long we will cycle together, perhaps a few days or a few weeks, but through dangerous Juliaca and the outskirts of Puno, Peru, it will be good to have a second person. <br />
<br />
So, all in all, my father and I are splitting up. Perhaps he will rejoin me in Argentina should he regain his health and will to continue. I don't have plans of stopping any time soon, pending any potential disasters or rising political issues between the U.S. and Bolivia... I hope that you all will have Scott in your prayers as he battles this terrible and debilitating sickness. In all this, I can't help but to remember what we are cycling for - our Water Project in Africa - bringing safe water to a community. The sickness my Dad has was 90% due to the poor water quality here in Peru and I know it is far worse in parts of Africa. Please do not forget who we are helping and the sicknesses we are preventing. I will continue to update our blog at www.OneRideOneWorld.com with pictures and text, though without the iPad, there will no longer be videos. Perhaps when I return home, I'll throw together a little something. To all our donors thus far, you mean the world to us and please know that we ARE going to build this well, no matter how far either of us have cycled or will continue to cycle. Thank you for following along and stay tuned for updates on Dad's health, on the trip as I travel alone, and on Bolivia, one of the harshest places in which one chooses to "go for a bike ride."<br />
<br />
-Kurt<br />
<br />
(Picture taken 3 weeks ago) <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOrAN0wibStPSjKoLS_6KxOz_WT-OUry9-soqeDaRUpVOU3dhcnVHV04wzAeNs9qYnrqUngNtOkMTKIaJ1fASzqKoZqdzX37B5bFMy5oVRURhk4Li0IH-F6pZZ6CH_lknnnOkwTZETKdq/s640/blogger-image--1478167126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOrAN0wibStPSjKoLS_6KxOz_WT-OUry9-soqeDaRUpVOU3dhcnVHV04wzAeNs9qYnrqUngNtOkMTKIaJ1fASzqKoZqdzX37B5bFMy5oVRURhk4Li0IH-F6pZZ6CH_lknnnOkwTZETKdq/s640/blogger-image--1478167126.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0Hostal Estrellita Ave. Tullumayo 445, Tullumayo, Cusco-13.518885 -71.973788tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-16377017528730726622013-06-21T12:04:00.001-07:002013-06-21T12:04:37.752-07:00May 21 to June 21: Chiclayo to Huanuco, Peru<span style="color: red;">Post number three!</span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6DZtZJ2d6js" width="420"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-20095549718932896632013-05-21T16:09:00.001-07:002013-05-21T16:09:18.941-07:00May 4 to May 21: Cuenca, Ecuador to Chiclayo, Peru<span style="color: red;">Our second Post!</span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qHryEaAmG2E" width="420"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-40796404567936649612013-05-08T15:40:00.001-07:002013-05-08T15:40:23.145-07:00May 8th - We've arrived in Vilcabamba, Ecuador <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FPahy3I24zKhKvlXolgc2jQRQhVq9sLdofsOmL0UcxEUAb_uu11f9M2rUHj62jDRomqszm6SMB98VzgTVZEJ_1aexspJ8O7rDuSlAt2dun3lbm3CsNokZRjGfoL0awtVLVQ-zhwO4une/s640/blogger-image-1285454145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FPahy3I24zKhKvlXolgc2jQRQhVq9sLdofsOmL0UcxEUAb_uu11f9M2rUHj62jDRomqszm6SMB98VzgTVZEJ_1aexspJ8O7rDuSlAt2dun3lbm3CsNokZRjGfoL0awtVLVQ-zhwO4une/s640/blogger-image-1285454145.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-13411275976573035282013-05-08T15:24:00.001-07:002013-05-08T15:35:19.851-07:00May 1 to May 4: Chicago to Cuenca, our start point!<span style="color: red;">Apologies as we are a bit behind on blogging as we had somewhat of a roadblock in our trip for a few days while Kurt was sick. In this video we cover getting to our start point, though we are now in Vilcabamba, Ecuador! This is our first blog on the road, and we will be posting a new video soon!...</span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LZz9WaxrQNc" width="420"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-376556995885906862013-04-29T09:11:00.000-07:002013-04-29T09:16:57.880-07:00T-minus 48 hours! <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxPQIvtiQ2zWdGj1B1Opx4_GqqbKJastW8l5pyn9sfyEN-5a8f8lIbNXEeuyJFYw9XRkMcPbXcUVwZoSJL2VWW40b_JvXkDIFsZ7-oMnSYm-EHGPSMlOiAuBACM3yREcnEg3AiNShIStI/s640/blogger-image-1389001441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxPQIvtiQ2zWdGj1B1Opx4_GqqbKJastW8l5pyn9sfyEN-5a8f8lIbNXEeuyJFYw9XRkMcPbXcUVwZoSJL2VWW40b_JvXkDIFsZ7-oMnSYm-EHGPSMlOiAuBACM3yREcnEg3AiNShIStI/s640/blogger-image-1389001441.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0Bloomingdale Bloomingdale41.937863 -88.06871tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-56901007902564354792013-04-26T17:26:00.000-07:002013-04-26T17:26:13.006-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Just 5 days to go, Kurt flys in tomorrow night. All my belongings are packed for the move. All clothes and articles are lined up packing in the panniers. Don't miss work at all</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07082801930207476605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-27175397646106196262013-04-21T23:13:00.001-07:002013-04-22T11:28:17.577-07:006 days until Chicago, 9 days until Ecuador!<span style="color: #20124d;">Here's our first of many weekly video-blogs! The video-quality will be a lot better when we begin our journey as we'll be using a professional camera and microphone :)
</span><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GYytFUV_l3g" width="420"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0Washougal, WA, USA45.588095187817594 -122.4003982543945345.5658721878176 -122.44073875439453 45.61031818781759 -122.36005775439453tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-45136995432759612802013-04-20T11:43:00.001-07:002013-04-21T19:49:54.446-07:00Donations reach $4835.00!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #20124d;">With 11 days until we start our journey, we have raised $4835. This is almost half our goal!! We are so Humbled and Grateful to All who have been a part of our dream.</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #20124d;">God Bless You,</span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;">Scott and Kurt</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07082801930207476605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-16989054577340158422013-04-11T14:57:00.000-07:002013-04-22T13:38:10.574-07:00Testing<span style="color: red;">Test youtube embedding...</span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;"></span><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/18REF5bp6cY" width="560"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0North Queen Anne, Seattle, WA, USA47.640815101659669 -122.3674821853637747.638140601659671 -122.37252468536377 47.643489601659667 -122.36243968536377tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2073377712787466401.post-77399173399082210372013-04-11T13:37:00.000-07:002013-04-12T19:47:55.138-07:00First Post!<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Hey, Kurt here! I am finally back in the portland-area ordering last-minute tools, clothes, etc online and making a big, heavy pile of everything that will make up our "home" for the rest of the year... We have all the big-ticket items except for our abominably expensive spare tires and other small items like postcard stamps, bungie cords, medications, etc. </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">Our to-do list is long with things like calling embassies, obtaining travel insurance, getting last-minute vaccines, and replacing cables/pads on the bikes, but we're making serious headway! </span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;">We are departing in 3 WEEKS! For those of you who have thought about donating to our incredible cause of building a well in rural Africa but have not yet pulled the trigger, please consider it! We are getting close to $4000, which would be fantastic to hit by the time we depart May 1st!</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br />Remember to spread the word!<br /><br />-Us :]</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07736080195854205053noreply@blogger.com0Clark, WA, USA45.587134134364085 -122.4014282226562545.542672634364088 -122.48210922265625 45.631595634364082 -122.32074722265625