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{ Tag Archives } wind

pampas pedalling


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The wind rises like psychosis, a black mood. It is imbued with both menace and malice. It toys with me. A game of cat and mouse. It screams and curses. Mutters. Threatens. Pounces. Seizes. Worries. It has teeth. There is no fighting back. It takes possession of me completely, with the embrace of a lover […]

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untrustworthy winds

ARGENTINA: EL CHALTEN — EL CALAFATE I’d been promised that I was going to be blown out of El Chalten all the way to the first junction eighty or ninety kilometres away with barely a pedal stroke. It would take me maybe three hours to reach the ‘pink house’, a derelict hotel complex that provides […]

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balneario aguas termales

As we ride towards the hot springs, in the morning, I start to feel unwell. I have been carrying some stomach bugs, probably giardia, with me from somewhere in the States. The only symptom so far has been a rather anti-social episode of farting when I was in Silver City but now I suddenly feel […]

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Silver City is the last town we will pass through in the USA. We linger a while, spending five nights on the lounge room floor of our hosts, before Jeff and I set off at around 5PM on a cold evening with snow predicted for the next day. Cass opts to spend another night in […]

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staying warm in a cold and windy place

With the clouds hanging heavily on the mountain tops and a fierce, frigid, wind blowing from the north I ride back to the highway. Once I reach the highway a north wind is a tail wind – for the most part – and the ride to Bishop, where I hope to have somewhere to stay […]

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another quest in search of a hot bath

In Yosemite Valley I heard rumours of hot springs around Mammoth Lake and so I quizz Doris and John for further information. The critical clue I already have at my disposal is a green church marking the turn off on the highway. John, however is able to furnish much more specific directions and a reasonable […]

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I discover that the mileage marked on the campsite guide I got from the tourist information in Beaver Creek refers to the old highway and is out by about fifty kilometres when I cycle to a campsite that isn’t there. Tired and hungry, I have to find somewhere to sleep on an unpromising section of […]

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