May 6, 2011
How far is San Juan?: Does anybody know the distance to anywhere in this country!
"How far is it to San Juan?" I ask the lady in Tourist information in Uspallata. "100km" she replied. I think that isn't far at all. Is expecting it to be over two-hundred. Looking at the map provided and seeing the town of Barreal marked as 100km from Uspallata and also just inside the Provence of San Juan I realized the misunderstanding as my meaning is the provincial capital not the Provence itself. So I ask again stressing the city of San Juan this time. "You have to ask at Tourist information in Barreal": those where her words; then adding 80km as an afterthought, meaning onwards from Barreal.
Apart from the visit to the info-centre, Thursday was spend in a campsite reading, writing up the diary and using wifi to upload pictures in the nearby service-station. The great thing about the campsite was it is free as according to a neighbour the owner had moved away for a while and the people left to care-take that arrived late in the evening and then left the following morning didn't take any interest in my tent. Is alone the first evening, then the following afternoon a motorcyclist turned up. There was a French cycling couple on a tandem with a Bob-trailer that came in the afternoon too but when she heard there wasn't hot water for a shower, they moved to the municipal site. Their Bob-trailer had just broken at the swing-arm in the same place as mine did a few months ago. They'd gotten it welded but the welder wasn't very professional, leaving a tacky lumpy bead with holes and it'll break again before they get it done properly. Anyway, they weren't impressed by Bob-yak, having only bough it two months ago and it cost them a lot. The feeling is neutral, mine being rubbish too.
Friday morning was particularly cold. Philip the motorcyclist from Austria said the thermometer read minus five in his tent which is of mini marquee proportion: no good for stealth camping and not so brilliant when cold as the large interior doesn't retain body heat like a small tent. Traveling by motorbike he faced different challenges than me. He was somewhat impressed however that I'd been on the road as long as I have and took my photo before heading off for coffee at the service-station. He asked would I join him but I reclined as Is anxious to get on the road as the days at this time of year here are quite short.
The moment of truth comes, or rather how far out she in the info-centre was, when I cycle away from town. San Juan (the city) is signposted, 307km, considerably more than her estimation; so I resigned to at lease three days riding with two towns on the way, other than that I don't have any other information on the route nor do I have a map.
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The road left the nicely located town of Uspallata behind and climbed gradually all morning: not a gradient noticeable to look at but noticeable by having to use a large sprocket and tiresome pedaling. I past close by rugged hills on the left and then I past through what was signed as a "Comuna indigena" which consisted of some wooden buildings including a restaurant and craft shop which were a bit away from the road to see much of. When it was time to stop for lunch, I could still look back along the road I'd come and still see Uspallata where I'd started three and a half hours earlier such was the perception that I hadn't come very far. After lunch by an abandon hut the road crested the rising plain and soon on glancing back, I could no longer see the familiar mountain and lines of popular trees as they'd gone beyond the horizon and the road ahead alas was slightly downhill though towards a bleaker plain. Furthermore, hazy cloud blocked the sun out and icy cold wind blew sometimes across me and other times head on. Later on the cloud cleared and the wind settle leaving a sunny evening and as it was desert all I'd to do is push my bike a couple of hundred metres off the road to camp.
By Saturday morning I'd reached a stretch of white sands and it altogether promise more scenic itinerary today when the road descend down into a river valley on the approach to Barreal which was at 110km from Uspallata, considerable more than the hundred on the map I'd received or what the lady there had said. And it seems that not knowing the distance to anywhere is common as I past a sign "San Juan 190km" 14km before Barreal and so I would've thought on arriving in Barreal there would remain 176km: but no, it wasn't to be as simple as subtracting fourteen from 190 as Is told later in the aforesaid town that San Juan is 212km and the sign leaving town confirmed it too.
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The first I see of Barreal is a forest of popular trees, which are tall thin trees planted either as wind break or more likely in this region shade from hot Summer sun but at this time of year their leaves are autumnal yellow and light brown. Is wondering as I proceeded was there any town at all as I cycled along a tree enclosed road with only the occasional break with a house or kiosk, a school and a army base that took up a long stretch. Is this it: not much of a town, ran through my head. It went on for a few kilometre until I reached what was quite a large town-centre where I stopped at one of the many cafes and ate a succulent steak sandwich as there was no telling my next opportunely of such a meal.
The lines of trees continued the other side of town until it was back to the natural dry valley until reaching Callingasta which was a disappointingly little place which was deserted for the afternoon siesta and so no place was open to buy extra supplies. There was just the petrol-station open before the bridge into town and buying cookies and coke the woman there informed me that there wasn't any drinking water along the presently remaining 170 kms to San Juan. So filling up on water I knew it would have to last it and whatever food I'd left for two days.
The valley onwards became more of a narrow gorge with a swift river flowing pass amongst green vegetation to the left and rugged red and grey hills rising on either side. It looked great in the sinking late afternoon sun and again I got the tingle of excitement for cycle-touring after being a little bored in recent days. I was passing the perfect campsite at five, a eucalyptus plantation, so I stopped. It wasn't a cold evening and so I sat out comfortably against a tree engrossed in my book until eight when it had already been dark an hour.
Today's ride: 171 km (106 miles)
Total: 13,998 km (8,693 miles)
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