Mileage - 7 kms bike, 5kms foot
A SHORT WALK IN THE HINDU KUSH (NO HINDU KUSH)
Well we were all determined to get a good nights kip last night so set up for a late breakfast, 9am. didn't work out so well though. The place is quiet enough, virtually no passing traffic and few guests (reminisant of the Shining then). But for some reason none of us slept partcularly well last night or the one afore, just one of those things I guess. Bev and I have a generous room, as does Nik, we're on an all inclusive basis p/p so got seperate rooms for some space. Not that that indicates any falling out or split, just if you can get sperate rooms for the same price we may as well have. This is also the first place we've had heaters in the rooms and used them. It's quite high up and quite cool (no complaints there though)
I must do a bit of research on this place when we get home too as there are pictures all over the walls of the bar of Vincent Garcia, or other way round, who was our hosts father and obviously a racing driver of some aplomb. there are trophys galore and paper clippings and photographs showing a fairly glittering career by the look of things. He has the rakish good looks of Graham Hill with his thin moustache and from what I can make out from our host he drove Peugoets. The pics show an old car in fairly stripped condition obviously used for road (no roads) racing over several days and several countries. If I have translated some of the details correctly it sounds like in one particular year he had a close scrape, incuding some carryon with the police, and either came second, or was first in his class, or both.
Anway I have only skant details as our host though charming, speaks only 'black coffee' in English, and it is certainly another of those occassions were my lack of Spanish leaves me frustrated in the knowledge I could find out so much more with more vocablary. I guessed by the end of 6 months I would be speaking reasonable Spanish, but really I'm still using 'pointy' language (ie point and use descriptive words) rather than real sentances We'll see.
We took the bikes back up the goat track Bev and I had taken last night in order to park up an have a stroll nearer the mountains if not actually in to them. The track was more technical as it was not used by 4x4s and occasssional drainage runs ran down one part of it then crossed obliquely, and the surface was far from well graded with soft material then small boulders and all sorts.
River and mountains from starting point
Lenticular cloud above the valley where the hotel is - the road ´just´ visible in middle bottom
Nik decided to stop before the end and take some time out there while Bev and I continued as yesterday to the terminal sheppards house. I use the term house loosely. More shack with enclosures for the animals attached. Anyway we were greated by the usual barking dogs, like farm dogs back home all bark no bite I'm pleased to say. The goats were in the enclosure this morning which was a surprise so we ascended the hillside a little to get a shot. We were quite surprised to discover there was a sheppard in residence, he saw us, I waved, he returned the gesture and continued his lasooing of the stock. He was naturally very profficiant and skilled with his rope. No idea what he was up to but I have a nasty feeling it involves kids and Christmas, and I'm not talking children and Father Christmas, more the Turkey connection. When we've been in Spain before I have seen 'kid' on the menu, but we've allways been too late for it, here the timing may coincide with Christmas rather well !
Goat stockade and Sheppard lasooing ´kids´. Bike in bottom of pic
We had ridden up in shirts, trousers and boots to allow walking, and buffs and caps to prevent dust ingress due to it being half way to howling gails this morning. so there was no gear to leave with the bike and I felt no compulsion to even think about locking it up, so we were able to wander off with ease.
Cool mountain folk (?!) Standard riding gear for short trips on bike to get to walk starts
After a faltering start when we followed the goat tracks onto rather too exposed a slope for Bev we realised we would need to be on the other side of the river to get anywhere in a real sense. There was no way to cross as this was one fast flowing melt water mountain stream and if the current didn't get you (it would) the cold would be enough on it's own...plus there was still the sound of large boulders being moved along occassionally.
There were some amazing plants and flowers around. One low growing that I can only describe as looking like a moss or lichen, but actually rock hard to the touch. You could walk on it without deformation, some nice patches of it.
We wandered back downstream to the huts and suddenly I realised there was one on the far side, so surely there was a safe crossing point. Crossing point yes, safe ?
At a point where the stream narrowed, but by virtue also became turbo-charged in feroucity was a narrow plank, lets say 4 inch wide. it looked reasonably stable, but it still took a firm resolve to set foot after foot and cross. All was well of course and we set out - heaven forbide a fall there though.
Bev walks the plank of peril (I can assure you a slip would have been very perilous even though it looks not)
We pased through an out of use stockade and admired the time and craftsmanship that went into it's construction. Upright posts of the local equivalent of a yellow barked acacia tree (ie multi barbed, vicious and an ideal security fence) and smaller branches inter-twinned to create about 3 or 4 foot of thorney hedged wall. Also one end was constructed of unrolled oil barrels with the multicolured circular tops creating an abstract artistic flourish. Very akin to African stockades - wounder what they're keeping oout here ?
A little futher up the scrub was a collection of quite large, say 6 foot high conglomerate boulders that in a strange geological feat were conregated in a little huddle with nothing similar about. I've seen plenty of conglomerate before - it's the stuff that looks like concrete with a sandstone 'cement' and rock 'aggregate' - but this stuff was literally as hard as concrete and the aggregate rocks sticking out even tougher than the bonding material. It would make sublime climbing material if formed into something larger.
Our path, well it was the goat's in actual fact, wound it's way to the right of the stream and in between little thorny bushes that had to be avoided with exposed skin as their thorns were needle sharp. There were many distractions in the form of minute flowers and verdant birdlife for me, and stones with promises of encased fossils for Bev. She found a couple of relatively good ammonites in pebbles and I enjoyed the sights of various hawks and eagles, a Condor, and nesting Plovers amongst the sparrows, finches and kites.
Though we felt far from habitation there were cows on the meadows just below the snowline, and wild horses everywhere.
We reached a point that would be the natural conclusion of the walk when we climbed a bit of a ridge that lead us too a higher plateau that would mean a considerable trek to gain any further benefit, so time to pause and drink in the mountain granduer before our return.
Quite apart from the patchs of strong smelling wild sweet peas and patches of bright yellow flowers (unknown but familar) there were clumps of cacti that will be stunning in another few weeks. Either yellow or white flowering and not something you'd want to fall into either.
We followed the stream bank more closely on the return leg and the breeze was strong enough to be blowing occassional mist onto us. If this is what the wind is like here, what is it like down on the Pampas, or more importantly in Patagonia. lots of scare stories of people being blown off the road in the stagering 100mph side winds that can occur from no-where.
The ride back was uneventful - just the way we like it, and we returned to our base about 3pm and rejoined Nik. I'm guessing we are all inclusive here but this is the first time we've been back at anywhere near lunchtime. 3pm clasified as the time the last diner had eaten and they were clearing up, well that means our host was. I asked about lunch and I guess he was saying too late and then offered us sandwiches which we duely took being half starved after our outdoor wanderings. He asked if we wanted beer which we had, but one between 3. The toasties were cheese and ham and stuffed us.
Back to rooms for a late seista at 4 to try and catch up some of our beauty sleep. by 7 we were ready for our now standard hot tub.
I'd swear the sulphurous smell is getting stronger, which is unlikely, and this time we opted for our initial 38 deg pool. Less sweating and more comfortable temps. The best bit I think is the end when you lie down and are wrapped in a sheet and blanket and lie still for 10 minutes. It's bliss, something I can't do even when sleeping. Enforced inactivity is a fine thing. There must be wind powered ventilators in the building as the errie sound that are emitted are very evocative. Low bass tones similar to giant dragonflies or some spooky film music. The mind is a powerfull thing !
I'm not sure of the relative merits of the salty sulphur baths. My ezcema has been better than for absolutely years since we came away, but not as perfect since the baths. In fact I'm wondering if yesterdays sun-burn (now greatly eased thanks for asking) was intesified by the residue of salts on me post-dip. I can imagine the miniscule salt crystals could magnify the suns rays, or perhaps I'm being a bit imaginative. Today you could see Bev's skin had a white dusting to it though, so possible. Anyway it's showers post-dip for me, and sun-cream when out. It's funny how you can get burnt and then have it eased so quick mind you.
And so another day done. Just dinner and wine and bed...or will there be more ?
Well the only addition was a surprise guest 'ruit' with the flan, our host brought it out for us to try. brite orange amazingly sweet, starchy and what was it ? I thought Sweet Potato, Bev though Angelica, but was actually preserved Pumpkin, odd, but nice
Sunday 4th December
Los Mollos - Chos Malal
Mileage - 341 kms bike
Today was a combination of many things. A geology field trip, roads of every condition, and most of the worst weather imaginable on two wheels.
The wind hadn't died and to be honest I think I'd have stayed put, especially as a Sunday and a long push ahead probably.
It all started OK with just very strong winds and the odd stray rock or goat to avoid but bright sunshine, but cool.
The areas we rode through seemed to encompass most of the things you would see on Open University if they were doing the earths geology. To use one of Bev's favourite saying you could really see mother earths growing pains today. Folds in the landscape and vertcal planes, expolded volcanoes with molten rock for miles (not a lave flow as no Volcano) and colour and tonal variations to march the scenes you see on the national parks in the states.
Basalt columns – like Giants Causeway and Staffa back home
The roads were very hard, the fabled ruta 40 certainly lives up to reputation, even when fully good surfaced tarmac....which some of it was. But generally there were long sections of very damaged highway or gravel, or worse both togther, think marbles on the road. It's very hard riding these conditions with the added very strong side winds. the path you have chosen suddenly becomes the pile of loose materialas the wind guides you that way whether you want it or not. I had to ride with the bars slightly on opposite lock just to go in a striaght line.
it was no simple job of sitting on the back twiddling her thumbs for Bev either. She had the task a sidecar passenger would have, except we were on two wheels. Clinging in to me at times, leaning one way or the other at others. While I have the advantage of handlebars to hold to help brace my upper body and neck, Bev has little and was finding the wind a bit of a wrench on her neck to say the least.
The bloody dust ! It's bad enough generally, but in guess 40+mph, gusts there were almost constant clouds of the stuff appearing and it gets everywhere. when we stopped for a coffee and a bit of respite I even had grit in the bottom of my boots. The visors get coated in and out and you generaly feel filthy and arid. there were occassions when the vision was obscured by the dust clouds being blown across the road.
Sand dune blown across road, not nice surprise, and not even in Patagonia yet :-0
The unpredictable nature of the wind is the bikers enemy. So many tales of folk swept to side of road, catching the soft stuff and going down heavily. There isn't much chance for looking at the scenery, just total concentration on the road. Being a Sunday in the middle of nowhere there wasn't much traffic which is just as well. Once again you realise the ease with which you can drive a car. all we encountered today could be easily accomplished by four wheels with the minimum of discomfort. In reality. on two wheels, two up with luggage this sort of day is too much, but you have to do what you have to do. I could tell for quite a bit of the time Bev was having a hard time just trying to get n the best position for her and also for us, it's a team effort.
Ironically, the best bit of surfacing following a sign for road improvemnts for 36kms. Normally that would be a nightwmare, but on this occassion it meant well graded gravel and sand lending itself to much higher speeds than were achievable on the surface we'd just left. In fact it was marvellous ! The few bridges we crossed were a cause for minor heart failure as the tubular railings offered little by way of wind protection, but the open crossing funneled the wind in intensified strength and there was only limited width to waddle about in. Really quite frightening at times.
One of the things that summarised the first half of the trip was when we can round a forlorn bend on the gravel and out of the dust cloud appeared a mono toothed Guacho who clearly hadn't seen water in a month, but perhaps beer a lot more recently, staggering waving his hands in some insane manner that suggested he had been out here too long on his own, the wind would do that to you, he wasn't seeking any assiatnce, he was plain deranged. I could understand it at that point.
After the so called roadworks we encountered a change in the weather again as the mountain tops were lightly dusted with fresh snow, or maybe hail, as we got some of that. It looked like we'd avoid the rain, but we caught the edge of it and I'd swear the temperateure was near zero...in fact it was about 9. But that's very cold here. It was short lived but long enough for Bev to want me to sit on her hands to stop frost-bite setting in. The heated grips helped my palms but my knuckles were unaware of the joys.
Now the situation had clearly gone too far as I was grinning inanely in my lid in a world of my own, guided by voices, all my own (remember the intercom is not functioning at present). I was actually laughing as I was applying counter streering to try and balance the attack of the invisible forces pushing us for ever towars one side of the road or other. It was bliss on the occassions the wind was directly behnd us, but foolishly you forgot as you rounded a bend and suddenly caught a strong gust again.
Towards the end of the day there was some fine twisty well surfaced bends but nothing you could take advantage of.
as we descended towards our little oasis here - yep, you guessed it - as soon as we stopped you wouldn't have believed the wind was even blowing. bloody hell !
A SHORT WALK IN THE HINDU KUSH (NO HINDU KUSH)
Well we were all determined to get a good nights kip last night so set up for a late breakfast, 9am. didn't work out so well though. The place is quiet enough, virtually no passing traffic and few guests (reminisant of the Shining then). But for some reason none of us slept partcularly well last night or the one afore, just one of those things I guess. Bev and I have a generous room, as does Nik, we're on an all inclusive basis p/p so got seperate rooms for some space. Not that that indicates any falling out or split, just if you can get sperate rooms for the same price we may as well have. This is also the first place we've had heaters in the rooms and used them. It's quite high up and quite cool (no complaints there though)
I must do a bit of research on this place when we get home too as there are pictures all over the walls of the bar of Vincent Garcia, or other way round, who was our hosts father and obviously a racing driver of some aplomb. there are trophys galore and paper clippings and photographs showing a fairly glittering career by the look of things. He has the rakish good looks of Graham Hill with his thin moustache and from what I can make out from our host he drove Peugoets. The pics show an old car in fairly stripped condition obviously used for road (no roads) racing over several days and several countries. If I have translated some of the details correctly it sounds like in one particular year he had a close scrape, incuding some carryon with the police, and either came second, or was first in his class, or both.
Anway I have only skant details as our host though charming, speaks only 'black coffee' in English, and it is certainly another of those occassions were my lack of Spanish leaves me frustrated in the knowledge I could find out so much more with more vocablary. I guessed by the end of 6 months I would be speaking reasonable Spanish, but really I'm still using 'pointy' language (ie point and use descriptive words) rather than real sentances We'll see.
We took the bikes back up the goat track Bev and I had taken last night in order to park up an have a stroll nearer the mountains if not actually in to them. The track was more technical as it was not used by 4x4s and occasssional drainage runs ran down one part of it then crossed obliquely, and the surface was far from well graded with soft material then small boulders and all sorts.
River and mountains from starting point
Lenticular cloud above the valley where the hotel is - the road ´just´ visible in middle bottom
Nik decided to stop before the end and take some time out there while Bev and I continued as yesterday to the terminal sheppards house. I use the term house loosely. More shack with enclosures for the animals attached. Anyway we were greated by the usual barking dogs, like farm dogs back home all bark no bite I'm pleased to say. The goats were in the enclosure this morning which was a surprise so we ascended the hillside a little to get a shot. We were quite surprised to discover there was a sheppard in residence, he saw us, I waved, he returned the gesture and continued his lasooing of the stock. He was naturally very profficiant and skilled with his rope. No idea what he was up to but I have a nasty feeling it involves kids and Christmas, and I'm not talking children and Father Christmas, more the Turkey connection. When we've been in Spain before I have seen 'kid' on the menu, but we've allways been too late for it, here the timing may coincide with Christmas rather well !
Goat stockade and Sheppard lasooing ´kids´. Bike in bottom of pic
We had ridden up in shirts, trousers and boots to allow walking, and buffs and caps to prevent dust ingress due to it being half way to howling gails this morning. so there was no gear to leave with the bike and I felt no compulsion to even think about locking it up, so we were able to wander off with ease.
Cool mountain folk (?!) Standard riding gear for short trips on bike to get to walk starts
After a faltering start when we followed the goat tracks onto rather too exposed a slope for Bev we realised we would need to be on the other side of the river to get anywhere in a real sense. There was no way to cross as this was one fast flowing melt water mountain stream and if the current didn't get you (it would) the cold would be enough on it's own...plus there was still the sound of large boulders being moved along occassionally.
There were some amazing plants and flowers around. One low growing that I can only describe as looking like a moss or lichen, but actually rock hard to the touch. You could walk on it without deformation, some nice patches of it.
We wandered back downstream to the huts and suddenly I realised there was one on the far side, so surely there was a safe crossing point. Crossing point yes, safe ?
At a point where the stream narrowed, but by virtue also became turbo-charged in feroucity was a narrow plank, lets say 4 inch wide. it looked reasonably stable, but it still took a firm resolve to set foot after foot and cross. All was well of course and we set out - heaven forbide a fall there though.
Bev walks the plank of peril (I can assure you a slip would have been very perilous even though it looks not)
We pased through an out of use stockade and admired the time and craftsmanship that went into it's construction. Upright posts of the local equivalent of a yellow barked acacia tree (ie multi barbed, vicious and an ideal security fence) and smaller branches inter-twinned to create about 3 or 4 foot of thorney hedged wall. Also one end was constructed of unrolled oil barrels with the multicolured circular tops creating an abstract artistic flourish. Very akin to African stockades - wounder what they're keeping oout here ?
A little futher up the scrub was a collection of quite large, say 6 foot high conglomerate boulders that in a strange geological feat were conregated in a little huddle with nothing similar about. I've seen plenty of conglomerate before - it's the stuff that looks like concrete with a sandstone 'cement' and rock 'aggregate' - but this stuff was literally as hard as concrete and the aggregate rocks sticking out even tougher than the bonding material. It would make sublime climbing material if formed into something larger.
Our path, well it was the goat's in actual fact, wound it's way to the right of the stream and in between little thorny bushes that had to be avoided with exposed skin as their thorns were needle sharp. There were many distractions in the form of minute flowers and verdant birdlife for me, and stones with promises of encased fossils for Bev. She found a couple of relatively good ammonites in pebbles and I enjoyed the sights of various hawks and eagles, a Condor, and nesting Plovers amongst the sparrows, finches and kites.
Though we felt far from habitation there were cows on the meadows just below the snowline, and wild horses everywhere.
We reached a point that would be the natural conclusion of the walk when we climbed a bit of a ridge that lead us too a higher plateau that would mean a considerable trek to gain any further benefit, so time to pause and drink in the mountain granduer before our return.
Quite apart from the patchs of strong smelling wild sweet peas and patches of bright yellow flowers (unknown but familar) there were clumps of cacti that will be stunning in another few weeks. Either yellow or white flowering and not something you'd want to fall into either.
We followed the stream bank more closely on the return leg and the breeze was strong enough to be blowing occassional mist onto us. If this is what the wind is like here, what is it like down on the Pampas, or more importantly in Patagonia. lots of scare stories of people being blown off the road in the stagering 100mph side winds that can occur from no-where.
The ride back was uneventful - just the way we like it, and we returned to our base about 3pm and rejoined Nik. I'm guessing we are all inclusive here but this is the first time we've been back at anywhere near lunchtime. 3pm clasified as the time the last diner had eaten and they were clearing up, well that means our host was. I asked about lunch and I guess he was saying too late and then offered us sandwiches which we duely took being half starved after our outdoor wanderings. He asked if we wanted beer which we had, but one between 3. The toasties were cheese and ham and stuffed us.
Back to rooms for a late seista at 4 to try and catch up some of our beauty sleep. by 7 we were ready for our now standard hot tub.
I'd swear the sulphurous smell is getting stronger, which is unlikely, and this time we opted for our initial 38 deg pool. Less sweating and more comfortable temps. The best bit I think is the end when you lie down and are wrapped in a sheet and blanket and lie still for 10 minutes. It's bliss, something I can't do even when sleeping. Enforced inactivity is a fine thing. There must be wind powered ventilators in the building as the errie sound that are emitted are very evocative. Low bass tones similar to giant dragonflies or some spooky film music. The mind is a powerfull thing !
I'm not sure of the relative merits of the salty sulphur baths. My ezcema has been better than for absolutely years since we came away, but not as perfect since the baths. In fact I'm wondering if yesterdays sun-burn (now greatly eased thanks for asking) was intesified by the residue of salts on me post-dip. I can imagine the miniscule salt crystals could magnify the suns rays, or perhaps I'm being a bit imaginative. Today you could see Bev's skin had a white dusting to it though, so possible. Anyway it's showers post-dip for me, and sun-cream when out. It's funny how you can get burnt and then have it eased so quick mind you.
And so another day done. Just dinner and wine and bed...or will there be more ?
Well the only addition was a surprise guest 'ruit' with the flan, our host brought it out for us to try. brite orange amazingly sweet, starchy and what was it ? I thought Sweet Potato, Bev though Angelica, but was actually preserved Pumpkin, odd, but nice
Sunday 4th December
Los Mollos - Chos Malal
Mileage - 341 kms bike
Today was a combination of many things. A geology field trip, roads of every condition, and most of the worst weather imaginable on two wheels.
The wind hadn't died and to be honest I think I'd have stayed put, especially as a Sunday and a long push ahead probably.
It all started OK with just very strong winds and the odd stray rock or goat to avoid but bright sunshine, but cool.
The areas we rode through seemed to encompass most of the things you would see on Open University if they were doing the earths geology. To use one of Bev's favourite saying you could really see mother earths growing pains today. Folds in the landscape and vertcal planes, expolded volcanoes with molten rock for miles (not a lave flow as no Volcano) and colour and tonal variations to march the scenes you see on the national parks in the states.
Basalt columns – like Giants Causeway and Staffa back home
The roads were very hard, the fabled ruta 40 certainly lives up to reputation, even when fully good surfaced tarmac....which some of it was. But generally there were long sections of very damaged highway or gravel, or worse both togther, think marbles on the road. It's very hard riding these conditions with the added very strong side winds. the path you have chosen suddenly becomes the pile of loose materialas the wind guides you that way whether you want it or not. I had to ride with the bars slightly on opposite lock just to go in a striaght line.
it was no simple job of sitting on the back twiddling her thumbs for Bev either. She had the task a sidecar passenger would have, except we were on two wheels. Clinging in to me at times, leaning one way or the other at others. While I have the advantage of handlebars to hold to help brace my upper body and neck, Bev has little and was finding the wind a bit of a wrench on her neck to say the least.
The bloody dust ! It's bad enough generally, but in guess 40+mph, gusts there were almost constant clouds of the stuff appearing and it gets everywhere. when we stopped for a coffee and a bit of respite I even had grit in the bottom of my boots. The visors get coated in and out and you generaly feel filthy and arid. there were occassions when the vision was obscured by the dust clouds being blown across the road.
Sand dune blown across road, not nice surprise, and not even in Patagonia yet :-0
The unpredictable nature of the wind is the bikers enemy. So many tales of folk swept to side of road, catching the soft stuff and going down heavily. There isn't much chance for looking at the scenery, just total concentration on the road. Being a Sunday in the middle of nowhere there wasn't much traffic which is just as well. Once again you realise the ease with which you can drive a car. all we encountered today could be easily accomplished by four wheels with the minimum of discomfort. In reality. on two wheels, two up with luggage this sort of day is too much, but you have to do what you have to do. I could tell for quite a bit of the time Bev was having a hard time just trying to get n the best position for her and also for us, it's a team effort.
Ironically, the best bit of surfacing following a sign for road improvemnts for 36kms. Normally that would be a nightwmare, but on this occassion it meant well graded gravel and sand lending itself to much higher speeds than were achievable on the surface we'd just left. In fact it was marvellous ! The few bridges we crossed were a cause for minor heart failure as the tubular railings offered little by way of wind protection, but the open crossing funneled the wind in intensified strength and there was only limited width to waddle about in. Really quite frightening at times.
One of the things that summarised the first half of the trip was when we can round a forlorn bend on the gravel and out of the dust cloud appeared a mono toothed Guacho who clearly hadn't seen water in a month, but perhaps beer a lot more recently, staggering waving his hands in some insane manner that suggested he had been out here too long on his own, the wind would do that to you, he wasn't seeking any assiatnce, he was plain deranged. I could understand it at that point.
After the so called roadworks we encountered a change in the weather again as the mountain tops were lightly dusted with fresh snow, or maybe hail, as we got some of that. It looked like we'd avoid the rain, but we caught the edge of it and I'd swear the temperateure was near zero...in fact it was about 9. But that's very cold here. It was short lived but long enough for Bev to want me to sit on her hands to stop frost-bite setting in. The heated grips helped my palms but my knuckles were unaware of the joys.
Now the situation had clearly gone too far as I was grinning inanely in my lid in a world of my own, guided by voices, all my own (remember the intercom is not functioning at present). I was actually laughing as I was applying counter streering to try and balance the attack of the invisible forces pushing us for ever towars one side of the road or other. It was bliss on the occassions the wind was directly behnd us, but foolishly you forgot as you rounded a bend and suddenly caught a strong gust again.
Towards the end of the day there was some fine twisty well surfaced bends but nothing you could take advantage of.
as we descended towards our little oasis here - yep, you guessed it - as soon as we stopped you wouldn't have believed the wind was even blowing. bloody hell !
