mas fotos

Wild ferocious llamas

Somebody is looking for a handout

Off-roading in the rental car

The road to Aconcagua

We jogged up Aconcagua and stopped by this sign on the way back

una semana en Mendoza

I think I love it here.

This morning I woke up at 11am because I was out until 2am last night.  But we went home early because everyone was tired.  At 1:30am many people are still having dinner.  The real nightlife goes until the morning and beyond.  It works because nothing much happens on Sunday, which is why the place was deserted when we arrived.

My Spanish teacher took me out to a bar/restaurant with some of her students.  It was an opportunity for them to speak with someone in English, which was of course great for me because I can follow Spanish at a very low level.  All the city folks were out looking fashionable and laughing and talking.  The guys were wearing scarves and nice jeans and nice shoes.  The girls were dressed to kill, with lots of accessories and knee-high boots and leather jackets.  Tables lined the sidewalk and throngs of people were out seeing and being seen.

I was beat because we got up fairly early yesterday morning for a drive up to Aconcagua national park near the border with Chile.  We rented a little car from Budget.  You have to be on your toes in the city because traffic rules are mostly optional and it's hard to navigate at the same time.  Once out in the country it was more relaxed.  We drove up, up, up this dirt road which was cut into the side of the mountain.  The landscape was desert, with cactus and red rocks.  We saw lots of llamas, fox, and birds of prey swooping around.  Eventually we got onto the main road up to Aconcagua, passing through customs along the way.  I explained in broken Spanish what we were up to, and the (well-armed) customs officer laughed and waved us on.  Whew.

As we made our way back to the city, night fell and we were somewhat lost.  We got off the highway at an exit and had no idea where we were.  We weren't sure what kind of neighborhood we were in -- lock the doors and roll up the windows.  But presently we arrived at a gas station and pulled in.  The gas station was like a party!  There was music and the staff, young pretty girls, were wearing hot pants as part of their official uniform.  We asked for directions from this little girl wearing bun-hugging tights and then carried on.  Best gas station ever!  Like almost everybody we have met here, the people were soooo sweet.  After forcing our way through traffic and avoiding fearless pedestrians, we managed to return the car safely.

Our language classes are pretty full-on.  I am to the point where I can usually pick up the subject of the conversation.  As far as talking, I only know about ten verbs and can only use the present tense.  Every time we have some sort of encounter/transaction with someone, we learn new words.  But people are mostly very patient and nice about it.

Today we are going to go for a hike up some nearby mountain.  It's been splendid autumn weather all week.  One more week of classes in Mendoza and then to points beyond.

Cooking classes -- empanadas.

Maestro at work

Hope we don't encounter one of these

Our race car

This road keeps you awake

fotografias del mercado

Frutas

BBQ choices

Guess?

Tentaculos

Some handsome lads

Arrival in Mendoza

Yesterday my dad and I arrived in Mendoza, Argentina after flying through Dallas and Santiago.  From Santiago we flew up, up, up, and then over the Andes down to Mendoza on the other side.  The mountains are big and full of glaciers.  Upon arrival in Mendoza we caught a cab to our professor Ana's house.  She has an attached apartment which is very small (see below).  We are going to study Spanish with her for two weeks and then spend another week sightseeing.

Our first day of classes was tough, but I think that is how it must be when you learn a new language.  We are in class for 4 hours and then we have 3 hours of written homework.  This morning an Argentine girl who was studying English introduced herself and kissed me on the cheek.  That is the custom, apparently.  I could get used to that.

Last night was Sunday, and everything was closed and the streets were empty and forlorn.  This afternoon we walked to downtown Mendoza (about a mile and a half) and everything was much more active.  It's fast-paced and crossing the street is dicey.  We conducted a couple of transactions to test the waters and it went OK.  People talk fast, of course.  I think it will get easier.

One thing that is rather shocking is the money situation here.  The government sets the official exchange rate at 5.2 pesos to 1 US dollar.  However, it's actually worth far less than that.  On the black market, the rate is currently about 10 pesos to the dollar.  Last week it was 9:1, last month it was 8:1, and at the beginning of the year it was 7:1.  The peso seems to be collapsing at an exponential rate.  I wonder how any business can stay afloat.  It seems like the government here is doing a pretty good job of screwing everybody over.  

Flying into Santiago from Dallas

Flying over the Andes from Santiago to Mendoza

Street sweeping

Our cuddly accomodation

Walden, CO - Kremmling, CO

This morning I met an English fellow named Richard at the mini-mart.  After a chat, it turned out that we were both headed to Kremmling.  With Google Maps, I had earlier researched a route that would have been shorter (58 instead of 78 miles) and less wind-prone.  With hubris, I informed Richard that his route was poor and mine was better.  Never mind that Google Maps has led me astray several times now.  He was already committed to his route so we parted ways and said that we'd see each other in Kremmling.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately -- who knows what misfortune I avoided), I missed my turn and ended up on the same route as Richard and his current riding companion Brian.  I didn't figure this out until 12 miles down the road.  At that point, I couldn't turn back.  The day just isn't long enough.  Cursing myself, I pedaled onwards.

It turned out to be incredibly scenic with minimal traffic.  The aspens are a brilliant gold now, and the road up the pass was smooth as it wound through the forest.  Richard was obsessed with seeing a moose.  The steady 25mph wind was mostly a crosswind so it wasn't so bothersome.  Later we had to turn west on US 40, which was much busier and headed straight into the wind.  That part wasn't as fun.

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to be cold and windy and perhaps rainy.  It's 68 miles and includes Vail Pass at 10,662 feet.  I doubt anything could bother me, as I will be happy to sleep in my own bed.



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Pretty sure the horse is responsible for this sign

Entering scenic Rand, Colorado

Must be an Okie from Muskogee

Brian and Richard, my riding companions today

Pedaling up Willow Creek Pass

...and coming down

Different steeds

Saratoga, WY - Walden, CO

The best part of the day was the burger at the Walden bowling alley just now.  Everything else was pretty joyless.  I slept poorly and was exhausted even before getting on the bike.  Even though I kept telling myself to be happy and thankful, I had no energy and my aching legs felt like they were wrapped with barbed wire.  My skin is not faring well, with the relentless sun and wind and sunblock and heat.  My feet are raw where the seams of my shoes rub, my thighs are raw where they rub the seat.  My eyelids seem permanently windburnt and are always half-closed.

The hot, dry wind was stiff today.  Sometimes it was a crosswind, other times a welcome tailwind in which I pedaled languidly.  Crosswinds don't slow forward progress, but they blow me around and suck the breath out of my mouth.

Tomorrow is supposed to be about the same as today, although my 61-mile route to Kremmling runs due west into the headwind in a few areas.  Hopefully I sleep better and feel strong.




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Not sure what to think about me

Hello there

Entering vast North Park

Rawlins, WY - Saratoga, WA

Spent most of the day today lost, turning an easy 45-miler into an all-day affair.

Woke up feeling hung over, perhaps from yesterday's ride but more likely from last night's overindulgence of fast food from the plentiful bounty of I-80 Exit 214.  Went into Rawlins proper, which has a small downtown area.  Was looking for a bike shop to get some air/tire insurance, but it was out of business.

From there I tried to get back across town a different way but was stymied, having to backtrack numerous times.  It's a small town but it is bisected by the railroad and the interstate, with a big valley between the two.  It's hard to imagine being lost in Rawlins but I pedaled around forever, backtracking numerous times over hills.  Finally I got back to the eastern side of town where the obvious choice was I-80 east.  However (!), I had cleverly found a Google Maps route that would take me the whole way without going on the interstate.  I was feeling proud of myself because other bike journals say that a trip on I-80 is required.

I found a nice back road to the town of Sinclair, about five miles away.  The road was basically a service road for the Union Pacific railroad.  An unmarked pickup truck with lots of antennae passed me slowly, the driver giving me a long look.  I'm pretty sure it was the Pinkertons from the railroad.  But he must have been satisfied, because he U-turned and drove the other way.

Sinclair is home to the big oil refinery you pass by if driving along I-80.  The refinery is even more enormous from up close.  The myriad of pipes and tanks and stacks belching steam was otherworldly.  I took lots of pictures and moved down the road to a different vantage point.  A policeman pulled up and rolled down the window.  He said hello and was very friendly, just shooting the breeze.  But I'm coming to realize that they keep a watchful eye on the place.

The Google Maps route, if I remembered correctly, took me along the railroad tracks on the other side of the valley from I-80.  I found the road, which was gravel and dirt and headed out in a straight line toward some faraway mountains.  Eventually it was supposed to intersect with another road but it looked pretty forlorn.  Anything was better than I-80, I thought.  I turned onto the road, which was sand and gravel and deep ruts.  I pedaled ahead, a pit in my stomach as I was obviously going far away from civilization.  About 40 minutes later, the road was closed by barbed wire at some old rusty propane tanks.  Beyond that it looked like Jeep territory.  With a mixed sense of despair and relief, I turned around and headed back to the refinery.  Luckily neither the police nor the Pinkertons saw me.  Three hours and I'd made it five miles from Rawlins.

I turned onto the dreaded I-80.  It was actually not as bad as I thought.  The shoulder was huge and smooth, and people don't drive any faster than they do on any other Wyoming highway.  After about 15 miles I got to the next exit, stopped at a weatherbeaten gas station for insurance water, and headed down another 20 miles to Saratoga.

There are free public hot springs in Saratoga that are very nice.  The town has built nice pools, but I saw some young folks hanging out in the river which is also hot.  I joined them and learned that they were from Fort Collins, and were on a hot springs tour.  The sun was setting and a duck quacked at us from the other side of the river as we soaked in sulphur water.  It was great.  Tomorrow morning I will have to do another soak before heading to Walden.





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Waiting for the train

Wild, I tell you.

Main road past the refinery

Anybody know a plumber?

Miles of pipes

Atlas Shrugged

End of the line.  An hour and a half down the tubes.

Gave in and took the big road.  It wasn't so bad, although I wouldn't recommend it either.

Camp at Saratoga Lake.  Already looking forward to a shower and a soak at the hot springs tomorrow.  Supposed to be chilly but I will be cosy!