3/17/20 – 3/21/20 All day gravel. We didn’t feel like riding, but we didn’t feel like staying in Futaleufú. It was overpriced and the uncertainty was causing the Europeans in the hostels to smoke at an uncontrollable rate. Tried to thumb it as trucks passed, but no luck. Road was much better than expected though.
3/14_20 – 3/16/20 We awoke in El Bolsón on the fourteenth of March. It was cold and made me nervous for the coming weeks. Peaks, not too tall, yet covered in snow from an overnight storm. The sun crept over them, hit the grass, vaporizing the dew to shroud us in a cool damp haze.
3/4/20 – 3/13/20 After a day of stretching my knee on Lake Nahuel Huapi, it was a day’s ride to Bariloche, a Bavarian settlement and tourist mecca on the south side of the lake. We stayed with a man named Coco who had a cozy home overlooking the water. Beyond getting a Cortisone injection and
2/17/20 – 3/3/20 The winds were above fifty kilometers per hour the morning we left for Chos Malal. With my knee throbbing and Soph’s general lack of interest in having sand storms weather away her hard earned tan, we pulled off and stuck our thumbs out. We were quickly offered a ride by a gentleman
Heads up, this post contains moderately detailed instructions on advanced wilderness defecation techniques which can reduce strain on the knee. It has been brought to my attention in the past that such topics are a bit over the line for a blog focused on micturation. Still, I feel that this information could be found useful
1/30/20 – 2/8/20 Long, flat, cool tail wind. The desert that great dump for all of man’s unwanted trappings. On the north end of the agricultural inspection booth; old televisions. To the south; tires. Who keeps this great warehouse organized is a mystery. What anyone will do with an old cathode ray tube ever more
1/21/20 – 1/29/20 After a rest day of swimming in the reservoir of Villa Union, we got back on the road. Ruta Provincial 49 detours from Ruta 40 and cuts through a steep sandstone canyon that feels like an ancient sculpture garden. Kissing rock, bird rock, mushroom rock, cloud rock, and my personal favorite, old
1/17/20 – 1/20/20 We commandeered the garden hose from the plaza in Londres to fill our water and then proceeded to wash ourselves. The women maintaining the flowers didn’t seem to mind this, although I received a pair of sour eyes when I started dumping baby powder down the front of my shorts to combat
1/9/20 – 1/17/20 Soph had been in Salta for about a week by the time I arrived. “Look look, look in the fridge.” I looked. There was fresh ravioli, fresh salami, olives, parmesan cheese, prosciutto, and basil. “And look over here.” Fine extra virgin olive oil, a fresh baguette, a local Malbec, and croissants. “They
1/2/20 – 1/7/20 The first day was mostly windless and uneventful. I stopped after a hundred kilometers near a small creek and set camp. I could have gone further but I knew it would be my last guaranteed water supply for two days and it made sense to leave in the morning well hydrated and