Guest Post: All Squared Away

I know you’re all craving high-quality content, but this ain’t it. I typed out a big blog post on my phone and lost the whole thing. This is C+ work, or as my boss would say, “slightly better than a cup of dirt”.

Important updates from last time:

• I bought a new, significantly improved tire and am very happy about that.
• My replacement rear derailleur hanger was incorrectly sent to a small town about 100 miles north of where it was supposed to be, so I asked to have it forwarded to Punta Arenas, my final destination. Lesson learned.
• I changed my route (took Arg-41 instead of the Carretera Austral) because I was tired of going through a bunch of relatively touristy towns.

Photos:

Slightly preachy story:

The only story to make this cut is about my time biking Arg-41 and Patagonia NP.

It was the toughest riding I’ve ever done. Here are the roads:

I woke up in Cerro Castillo NP and biked 30 miles to the ferry across to Chile Chico / Los Antiguos, Argentina. After going through customs and getting some provisions  I started the first part of Arg-41 at 7pm. The sandy washboard roads coupled with unrelenting 35-50mph headwinds made for very slow going. At 10:30pm I realized that I wasn’t going to find any shelter decent enough to protect my tent from the wind, so I pulled out my bivy and slept in a dry creek bed. The next morning I woke up and was on the bike at 7:30. Headwinds persisted until I arrived at the Chilean border at 9:30pm that night. I was pretty beat and a big storm was rolling in. The wind had picked up to a steady 45 mph and I had to push my bike in the rain for the last mile or so. Over two days I spent 14 hours pedaling and averaged a speed of 4.8 mph. I asked the police at the border if there was a place I could put up my tent that was out of the wind. The captain came out and told me that not only could I stay in their gym, but that they were having their monthly cookout and that I could have dinner with them! The storm turned torrential that night, and I was snug as a bug between the bench and squat rack.

In the morning I was on my way through Patagonia NP and the headwinds and subpar roads persisted. About two hours into my ride my marvelous Dutch saviors appeared! They pulled up alongside me and asked how I was doing. I was a little too tired to be anything but frank. They invited me inside their super cool custom land cruiser (photos here) and made me a ham and cheese sandwich. After chatting for a few minutes, they offered to make me another sandwich (talk about winning hearts, am I right?) and said they would carry 4/5 of my bags to my final destination that night for me so I could actually appreciate riding through the park! After a beautiful day’s ride, I rolled into town light as a feather and they took me out to dinner.

Since this experience I’ve been thinking a lot about trust. If I hadn’t pushed myself so hard, I wouldn’t have needed to ask for help, and I wouldn’t have ever seen these total strangers step up in the way that they did. I don’t want to get preachy about incentives, insurance, hyperactive lawyers and all the reasons I think people are a little more hesitant to help strangers in the States; but here on this trip, people were gracious and caring when I really needed it.

So until next time, put yourself out there, you might find the world to be a more trustworthy place than you thought.

Roland