The morning of our departure from Rosario dawned cold and windy.Luckily for us there was no immediate threat of rain and so we headed off,turning west for the first time,toward Argentina´s second largest city.As soon as we hit the highway Curtis took off like it was a training ride and even with the tailwind we had been blessed with, I found that I couldn´t(and didn´t want to)keep up.I dropped behind and cruised along not far behind, but at a more comfortable pace for a guy on a mountain bike.I was feeling great after our rest day but didn´t fancy racing my way around Sth America.Curtis slowed and I told him it was okay if he wanted to charge ahead and that I´d catch up when we had our rest break up the highway.He is a much better cyclist than me and I didn´t want to stop him from enjoying the huge wind that had sprung up.He wanted us to stay together so we fell into line and carried on toward Cordoba.
Hour after hour the road passed under our wheels as we rode through Argentina´s agricultural heartland.To be honest, the ride was pretty monotonous, with seemingly endless straight sections passing sprawling farms,interrupted by the occaisional small town.It was at one of these small towns that we stopped for our third break and as usual attracted the attention of eveyone around the gas staion as we sat and ate some food.Three young locals came up to us and started the usual barrarge of questions.Where are you from?Where did you ride from today?Where are you going?How much are your bikes worth?The only question I wanted to hear from one of them was,"would you like to come to my house and stay forever?"because she was an absolutey beautiful.I was hoping that the other girl with her was attached to the guy they were with.They did ask if we were staying in thier little town that night but when we said we still had some riding to do they lost interest,said goodbye and walked off home.Bummer!!
Just then a couple of older ladies came up to us and asked all the same questions.They were very interested and after ten minutes or so went on thier way.As we were getting ready to carry on cycling one of the ladies came back bearing gifts.She produced a bag containing a hat,two scarves and a bib of some sort,all in the famous blue and white stripes of the Argie flag.I was amazed and then just had to laugh as she wrote down her name,address and phone number for us to send her a postcard when we finished our trip.I guess I should have been happy,I did get a phone number that day,just not the one I wanted!Story of my life.Again,bummer!!!
We had planned to stop near the town of Marcos Juarez which would have put us at around 140k(85ish miles) for the day.The wind however had pushed us along so quickly we decided to keep on going.Curtis eventually asked me to take the lead for a while and then half an hour or so later we decided it was time to stop.The lightning hitting the ground a few miles ahead actually made the decision for us and we hunted for a suitable campground.As luck would have it we found an old abandoned mill of some sort and checked it out.Perfect,it even came with a broom for us so sweep out a clean spot to lay a goundsheet on for our sleeping bags.Our find had been timed to perfection as the heavens opened up just as all our gear had been stowed safely inside.Talk about luck.
After unpacking our stuff I set about making a campfire under the cover of the decaying patio of this old builing.The only problem was that Curtis,it seems isn´t a big fan of campfires and told me he didn´t like them as they made his stuff smell like smoke.Very strange attitude to me as we were on a camping trip and so,reading between the lines of his statement, I put the fire out and made a mental note. It would be a trip full of lonely nights if I was going to have to make campfire away from our tents´ and sit there by myself for the next few weeks or months.I was too tired to comment and after cooking our dinner on his stove setteld in for a well earned sleep.
We had covered 190K(118 miles) that day and I was beginning to question the sense in going so hard as I was beginning to have trouble with my trailer.My rear wheel kept pulling over to one side causing my disc brake to rub,slowing me down.I would have to wait a couple of days until Crodoba to figure out just what was wrong.
The next morning proved to be aother cold and windy affair but this time rain threatened throughout.The plan was to ride about 140k(85miles) leaving us a short 70-80k(80-85miles) to go the next day.With this in mind we quickly settled into our little formation and cycled toward the next nights stop at Oncavito .Passing town after town we soon found ourselves directed through the small city of Villa Maria.It was chaos for us as the highway(crap road)detoured through the poorer suburbs of this strange place.After getting a little bit geographically embarrassed(lost) we asked a tanker truck driver where we had to go to fine the highway to Cordoba.He happily pionted us on our way and then proceeded to guide us with his huge truck throught the small, bumpy streets of Villa Marias´ outer suburbs.This road was hell with bumps and potholes every few meters causing me no end of grief as I worried about what my trailer was up to behind me.After a few kilometers my private hell was over as the truck driver had led us back onto the highway.He stopped his truck and got out to wish us well.Another example of the amazing Argentine hospitality that I will never forget.From there it was smooth sailing again and we made our destination at around four o´clock in the afternoon .
With our days riding done we stopped for a long time in a roadside truck stop and ate while I also drank my fill of coffee,just what I needed to revive me after another 140k(85miles) on the road.As the afternoon wore on we rode back up the highway for a sort time and found a nice rest area where we made camp and after a big feed hit our sleeping bags for the night.Another great day on the road.
The next morning was even colder but we didn´t mind as it was obvious that the wind that was chilling us to the bone would soon be pushing us, at speed, toward Cordoba.We broke camp and after a quick coffee(for me)at the previous nights´ truck stop we hit the highway once again with the biggest wind we had experienced at our backs
We went through the first 35k(22miles) in an hour and hit the 50k(31miles)in a tick over one and a half hours.Just stupidly fast for a couple of cycle tourists dragging heavily laden trailers.After a small stop,which chilled my muscles to the point of pain.We closed in on Cordoba.It was a welcome site,when cresting a small rise, that we saw our first glimpse of some mountains.Not the Andes yet,but it was encouraging.We were soon drawing closer to them and then hit the urban sprawl that is Cordoba.
I have mentioned that I hate this part of arriving in the cities along the way and this one was no exception.We did have one reality check as we passed a motorcyclist lying in the middle of the road into town.He wasnt moving and the assembled crowd,from thier lack of action,seemed to figure that he was beyond help and were waiting for the ambulance to arrive and clear the road. Not a very pretty sight at all.I slowed down a lot after that and then we hit the city center!Good lord what a mess.It was the beginning of siesta and eveyone in this city of 1.8 million seemd in a hurry to get home.It was a miracle that we found the hostel let alone made it there in one piece.Ímagine if you will,thousands of frustated city workers lining the street,waiting for a bus to take them home.I felt like I was on the parade lap of the Tour de France in Paris, only nobody was cheering, and I wasnt going to get to sleep with a beautiful rock star that night.
With our hostel found and our bikes put away we settled in for a couple of nights in the city known as "The Docta".
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Hour after hour the road passed under our wheels as we rode through Argentina´s agricultural heartland.To be honest, the ride was pretty monotonous, with seemingly endless straight sections passing sprawling farms,interrupted by the occaisional small town.It was at one of these small towns that we stopped for our third break and as usual attracted the attention of eveyone around the gas staion as we sat and ate some food.Three young locals came up to us and started the usual barrarge of questions.Where are you from?Where did you ride from today?Where are you going?How much are your bikes worth?The only question I wanted to hear from one of them was,"would you like to come to my house and stay forever?"because she was an absolutey beautiful.I was hoping that the other girl with her was attached to the guy they were with.They did ask if we were staying in thier little town that night but when we said we still had some riding to do they lost interest,said goodbye and walked off home.Bummer!!
Just then a couple of older ladies came up to us and asked all the same questions.They were very interested and after ten minutes or so went on thier way.As we were getting ready to carry on cycling one of the ladies came back bearing gifts.She produced a bag containing a hat,two scarves and a bib of some sort,all in the famous blue and white stripes of the Argie flag.I was amazed and then just had to laugh as she wrote down her name,address and phone number for us to send her a postcard when we finished our trip.I guess I should have been happy,I did get a phone number that day,just not the one I wanted!Story of my life.Again,bummer!!!
We had planned to stop near the town of Marcos Juarez which would have put us at around 140k(85ish miles) for the day.The wind however had pushed us along so quickly we decided to keep on going.Curtis eventually asked me to take the lead for a while and then half an hour or so later we decided it was time to stop.The lightning hitting the ground a few miles ahead actually made the decision for us and we hunted for a suitable campground.As luck would have it we found an old abandoned mill of some sort and checked it out.Perfect,it even came with a broom for us so sweep out a clean spot to lay a goundsheet on for our sleeping bags.Our find had been timed to perfection as the heavens opened up just as all our gear had been stowed safely inside.Talk about luck.
After unpacking our stuff I set about making a campfire under the cover of the decaying patio of this old builing.The only problem was that Curtis,it seems isn´t a big fan of campfires and told me he didn´t like them as they made his stuff smell like smoke.Very strange attitude to me as we were on a camping trip and so,reading between the lines of his statement, I put the fire out and made a mental note. It would be a trip full of lonely nights if I was going to have to make campfire away from our tents´ and sit there by myself for the next few weeks or months.I was too tired to comment and after cooking our dinner on his stove setteld in for a well earned sleep.
We had covered 190K(118 miles) that day and I was beginning to question the sense in going so hard as I was beginning to have trouble with my trailer.My rear wheel kept pulling over to one side causing my disc brake to rub,slowing me down.I would have to wait a couple of days until Crodoba to figure out just what was wrong.
The next morning proved to be aother cold and windy affair but this time rain threatened throughout.The plan was to ride about 140k(85miles) leaving us a short 70-80k(80-85miles) to go the next day.With this in mind we quickly settled into our little formation and cycled toward the next nights stop at Oncavito .Passing town after town we soon found ourselves directed through the small city of Villa Maria.It was chaos for us as the highway(crap road)detoured through the poorer suburbs of this strange place.After getting a little bit geographically embarrassed(lost) we asked a tanker truck driver where we had to go to fine the highway to Cordoba.He happily pionted us on our way and then proceeded to guide us with his huge truck throught the small, bumpy streets of Villa Marias´ outer suburbs.This road was hell with bumps and potholes every few meters causing me no end of grief as I worried about what my trailer was up to behind me.After a few kilometers my private hell was over as the truck driver had led us back onto the highway.He stopped his truck and got out to wish us well.Another example of the amazing Argentine hospitality that I will never forget.From there it was smooth sailing again and we made our destination at around four o´clock in the afternoon .
With our days riding done we stopped for a long time in a roadside truck stop and ate while I also drank my fill of coffee,just what I needed to revive me after another 140k(85miles) on the road.As the afternoon wore on we rode back up the highway for a sort time and found a nice rest area where we made camp and after a big feed hit our sleeping bags for the night.Another great day on the road.
The next morning was even colder but we didn´t mind as it was obvious that the wind that was chilling us to the bone would soon be pushing us, at speed, toward Cordoba.We broke camp and after a quick coffee(for me)at the previous nights´ truck stop we hit the highway once again with the biggest wind we had experienced at our backs
We went through the first 35k(22miles) in an hour and hit the 50k(31miles)in a tick over one and a half hours.Just stupidly fast for a couple of cycle tourists dragging heavily laden trailers.After a small stop,which chilled my muscles to the point of pain.We closed in on Cordoba.It was a welcome site,when cresting a small rise, that we saw our first glimpse of some mountains.Not the Andes yet,but it was encouraging.We were soon drawing closer to them and then hit the urban sprawl that is Cordoba.
I have mentioned that I hate this part of arriving in the cities along the way and this one was no exception.We did have one reality check as we passed a motorcyclist lying in the middle of the road into town.He wasnt moving and the assembled crowd,from thier lack of action,seemed to figure that he was beyond help and were waiting for the ambulance to arrive and clear the road. Not a very pretty sight at all.I slowed down a lot after that and then we hit the city center!Good lord what a mess.It was the beginning of siesta and eveyone in this city of 1.8 million seemd in a hurry to get home.It was a miracle that we found the hostel let alone made it there in one piece.Ímagine if you will,thousands of frustated city workers lining the street,waiting for a bus to take them home.I felt like I was on the parade lap of the Tour de France in Paris, only nobody was cheering, and I wasnt going to get to sleep with a beautiful rock star that night.
With our hostel found and our bikes put away we settled in for a couple of nights in the city known as "The Docta".
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