Potrerillos - Uspallata - Troy

I managed to find a bike shop in Mendoza, and bought a new rear tyre for the Dingo, a Michelin Sirac, which ended up costing me about $180 (compared to the Metzler I bought in Colombia for $35, that hurt). By the time I had it installed it was 1 pm so I headed to a cafe to eat and plan out my next leg.

One of the funny aspects of Argentina is the "siesta time". Basically from 1 or 2 pm all the shops and restaurants close until about 5 pm, when they re-open and continue trade into the night. It is hard for a westerner who likes a late lunch or early dinner, cos the restaurants don't open for dinner until after 8 pm!

So there I am at a cafe with internet, trying to decide what to do next, I manage to get 2 coffees and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich in before they begin to pack up. I am in the main street of Mendoza, and as it get's closer to 2 pm, I notice the street become increasingly barren of people, then there is almost no-one!

I had to make a snap decision (this is the way Tim and I have travelled together (and I suppose why we get along so well), never make serious plans, leave it to the moment); anyways, it was much later than I had intended to leave, so I had to either:

1. Begin to make my way east overland to Buenos Aires.

2. Head back to the camp ground, set up camp, and attempt to set out early the next day.

3. Ride west towards Uspallata near the border to Chile (which I had heard was a nice ride with great scenery) and camp off the road somewhere, because being so late I couldn't make it.

I decided to head west and camp wherever I could before nightfall. This is risky cos you never know where you may end up...

I ended up in paradise!!!

It was getting close to 4pm when I came across the spectacular Lago Potrerillos. The sun was beginning to set over the 6000 meter high mountains of the Chile/Argentina border region. I was in awe! There perched within the harsh and unforgiving mountains and valleys was the most perfectly blue lake I had ever seen.

I knew I had to stay there (actually I "had" to camp there). I pulled into the tiny town, asked directions to the camp ground, and had my tent up on the lakeside before night fall. It was perfect.

I walked through the town and found a tourist adventure company, who informed me there was a zipline of 2.5 km there! I knew what I was doing the next day, so I bought supplies, cooked up a feed, did my French lessons and crashed out satisfied that Tim and my technique of "leaving decisions till the last minute" worked once again...

The next day I did the ziplne, road an offroad trail around the lake, and spent the night drinking wine and feasting on a great barbeque of meats with my new best friend Jose (a retired doctor) and his 3 sons from Buenos Aires (Pablo, Augusto and Facundo (watch out Aussie girls 2 of these guys are single, charming, and may be on their way there soon)), who were also staying at the campground. We spent the night in their caravan exchanging stories and having a great time of it (my espanol has improved enough to be able to hablo now).

The next day I sadly packed up and rode on to Uspallata, which was spectacular though extremely cold. I spent the afternoon at a restaurant eating an amazing steak then rode to the campground, which was deserted, so I decided that after camping for so long, it might be time to stay in a hostel (partly cos it was freaking freezing at over 2000m). I found a great hostel, which also was deserted cos it's not tourist season, had a hot shower and settled in for the night, determined to hit Aconcagua the next day.

It's wierd cos when one is in extreme conditions, one's body adapts, then when you get to a reasonably comfortable place, the body seems to say "OK now I'm going to collapse". The next morning I awoke with an awful cold. I packed the bike determined to ride to Aconcagua but as I rode out of town I realised I was in no state to ride. My nose was running like a tap, eyes watering, I was shivering despite multiple layers of thermals, I was a wreck. Rather than potentially kill myself with cold I decided to ride back to the warm hostel room and "ride out" the cold.

Back at the hostel I took a bunch of the meds my beautiful Tutu had left me and descended into a coma. I tried to sleep it off, then went for a hike around the amazing town, then fell back into bed.

The next day despite still being sick I rode to Aconcagua. The ride there was once again mind blowingly beautiful, though it was freezing, so when I made it to the park I managed a limping hike around it, despite being almost blown off my feet by a gusty arctic (metaphoric ofcourse) wind, then high-tailed it back to the hostel, where I once again collapsed into bed.

It was worth it though, as the hopelessly in adequate photos I took, may tell...