Fri 23th Sep: Va Media Aqua < 21km to Mendoza - JP McCraicken With The News - CycleBlaze

September 23, 2016

Fri 23th Sep: Va Media Aqua < 21km to Mendoza

This is dangerous for me.
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Was I dreaming? Dreaming of cycling on a fine cycle-path, followed by Victor and Florin, the Belgium cyclists I met yesterday. Smiling at other cyclists I meet coming the other way. When I awoke, looked at my watch and saw 07.22.

Its a much better day today. No wind. But still cold in comparison to a few days ago. The road surface continues bad though. That heavy truck-wheel depression with a high ridge along the very edge of the road where I'm supposed to ride.

There being a mere 25 centimetres narrow strip in from the edge required to cycle upon, but here the road's edge is angled up, often a vertical curb, meaning at best it's hazardous, at worse it's impossible to ride tight in along the edge of the road.

Nevertheless I preserve with remaining as tight to the edge of the road as possible. The reason to remain well in to the side are those trucks that come along every two to three minutes. Not so bad when there's no oncoming traffic coming the other way; but, as often as not, there are two or three trucks coming toward me meeting the ones bearing down on me from behind.

So I've to stay in. The front-wheel and rear-wheel don't track all that well on the ridged up road edge though, ie, run in a straight line as a unit. The front will be on top of the ridge, while the rear-wheel will slide sideways down the ridge into the truck-wheel depression. A dangerous scenario like riding straight on a tramline.

In the end, not wanting to risk life or limb, I resort to riding in the gravel shoulder, which isn't too bad after a while.

I reach Jacuriso, shortly after midday. A truck-stop to begin with, where I buy an alfarjora from a kiosco attached to a comidor. I eat outside before riding further into the village, with restaurants, shops, houses inclosed in tall elm trees, where I picnic underneath a mature eucalytus tree. The dogs from a house across the way come to keep me company, or more like looking for food.

Toward Mendoza centre, a cycle-path alongside dual-carriageway, Route 40.
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But, it shortly comes to an end.
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On the way again after lunch, much of the truck-traffic peters out after passing a junction with another major road, so its safe to ride on he road the final leg into Mendoza.

I have heard reports of cyclists being robbed at gunpoint upon Mendoza's northern access. So I myself am a bit weary riding into the city. I want to reach the northern suburbs no later than early afternoon. And, as the saying goes "Don't talk to strangers!"

I do, namely, ride as fast as possible. Stop for no one, no matter how friendly, or genuine they seem. Why should I stop for any one? I don't know anyone here. No one knows me either. So if anyone calls out to me sounding friendly, I ignore them. Pretend I don't hear them.

Now in those northern suburbs, on dual-carriageway, an alley-key falls from the bike's tool-pouch down upon the wide paved shoulder, so I've to turn round to go back to retrieve it. When I see two youths running along the shoulder toward me. I grab the alley-key without delay, quickly putting it back in the pouch before riding on hard.

Stopped at traffic-lights a bit further,there are two raggedly dressed youths hasling drivers for money. They do this in Argentina. I know I need to be careful cause if they see me a westerner, they may not just ask me for money. So I attempt to go through the lights, but the traffic doesn't allow that. Luckily I don't think they've seen me, as there's a pickup truck between them and me blocking their view.

Street art.
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Toward the centre, the nicer part of town, I can relax.

Having been to Mendoza three times previously, I know my way round the city-centre, and having downloaded the Hostelworld google-map with my first choice, "Hostel Puerto Urbano" pin-marked a few streets north of Plaza Independencia, I reach there without fuss.

I check-in for three nights.

It seems a bit oldschool; namely, a long coridor to the rooms, with plain dorm-rooms. Not much decoration of any kind. But they do serve free wine after eight o'clock, so not all is bad.

I have met some of the other guests that I know I'm going to get along with, so early missgivings about having paid for three nights are perhaps unjustified.

We'll see.

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