Malfunction: Culvert Camp to Rio Ecker.

December 20, 2015

My camera has been playing up this last few days. Basically, I can't adjust the manual settings, nor the ISO, nor view what I've taken; and, the autofocus doesn't work all the time. So I'm left with the mode dial set on A, "aperture priority" and ISO200, meaning I've lost a lot of flexibility when taking pictures. And the focus problem has left a lot of photos soft and even out of focus. Nonetheless, I've used them as they illustrate the day.

Now a week later the problem has solved itself and I'm thinking it may've been condensation or even water from that wet day, which shorted the system and now has dried out. I keep the camera in the handle-bar bag, supposedly waterproof, but nothing is a hundred per cent rain-prove after hours of rain. All raincoats eventually let in the rain; my goretex gloves quickly become saturated to the lining.

I have started to think how lucky I am, as the ride south on 40 hasn't been too inhibited by the wind. Yesterday I'd a crosswind, but it was manageable, allowing me to ride. It could've got so strong in the afternoon, that I wouldn't have been unable to stand up, never mind ride.

There is just a light breeze today and having got going shortly after half seven, I soon reach a changing landscape. The most significant feature being several long downhill stretches with rolling steppe hills vistas as far a the eye can see.

Eventually I join lateral road 43, and continue west to Perito Moreno, another settlement which appears from afar like a shattering of boxes dropped from the sky on the immense Patagonian landscape; more so as I approach from a height coming from the east and descend to a great hollow, the town nested at the far side in the shadow of a huge table mountain.

Perito Moreno from a height on route 43 coming from the east.

By now dark cloud has rolled in from the west and it is raining not far ahead, though, other than extreme dull light, doesn't reach me as I ride into a Sunday morning deserted town street, where I find a family run supermercado open and buy all the rice, polenta, packet soup and cans of tuna I'll need until I reach El Calafate. There is only one town left between here and there to buy more in nearly seven-hundred kilometres.

By the time I've packed everything in my pannier, the threatened rain has moved on and it is brightening up. Across the street from the supermercado, I spot an interpretation board on the wall of a shop on the corner, so I cross over to have a closer look.

In big lettering there's Casa Historico Patrimonial; underneath is an old black and white photo of the shop in the 1950s with a car from the era parked outside. Text underneath translates, the oldest general store in Perito Moreno, established in 1938 by an immigrant from Lebanon.

Before going further I find a petrol station and fill up on water, by which time it's lunchtime and a block away find a tree shaded plaza to sit and eat.

Old unpaved route 40 leaving Perito Moreno. Hard to believe I actually rode that in 2004.

Leaving town I hadn't realised how much climbing there was when I passed in 2004. Nowadays the recently built tarmac road continues; then, I rode upon ripio, the loose graded stony soil, the remains of which can be seen alongside for much of the rest of the day. That day eleven years ago I remember being tired by lunchtime and stopped early at estancia Telken, which then was recommended by Lonely Planet for accommodation and an evening meal. I camped on the lawn garden and took a seat at the table that evening: the other guests a mix of nationalities.

Well there's not much more to say about today, except it got a bit windy during the afternoon, fortunately coming from the right direction for fanning me along. I think eleven years ago I'd to look at the road too much and missed the dramatic black hills and red petrified forest country that I pass through today.

By evening I descend to a green valley with a river called Rio Ecker, which provides me with a good campsite by the road bridge across, though there are a lot of small rodens living in the rocks the road-builders have put in place to support the footing for the bridge approach and, I think they'll be in the tent by morning looking at my food.

Actual colour; not a huge truck-tyre bonfire, nor ink spilt on the lens.

Rio Pintora, not far from the famous cave hand prints.

Rio Ecker with the bridge approach proving a buffer against the wind.

Today's ride: 144 km (89 miles)
Total: 2,812 km (1,746 miles)

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