Jay makes his way south

When we left off last post, it was with a parting of ways as Jake and I loaded the bikes onto a bus for the ride south to San Carlos de Bariloche and Jay, the truly light-loaded bicycle vagabond that he is, pedaled off towards the southern horizon to uphold the original bike-trip ideals.

We gave him the iPod Touch and he gave us the promise of pictures and updates when in wifi range and we bid him au revoir... or adios as the case may be (Spanish, Spanish, Spanish! So hard!).




Here, in his own words and photos, is his trip:



"Is that a dragon I see before me?!"



Jay's normal nightly camp en route (gracias Chaz for the shelter!)






"Bamm! Chickpea, red peppa, yellow onion, and brown rice! In no chef, but damn do I cook some food!"

January 29th:
Sooo... I'm crushin' along this desolate desert highway in the pampas, trying to put down an extra 40 km during my mid-day break. My hp level is running low and draining rapidly due to a powerful adversary know in this hemisphere as "el sol." Seeking a moment's respite from my oppressive opponent and the chance to refill my water supply, I pull into what appears to be an abandoned gas station. Only the skeleton of fuel pumps and car wash remain surrounding a standing building with mostly boarded up windows, yet through one of the barred window I see an ample supply of bottles of liqueur and posters with largely naked females on the walls inside. "That's strange," I think to myself. Setting Rocinante to rest in the shade as I inspect the grounds for a water line, I circle the building and to my surprise run right into three provacatively dressed sirens under the shade trees. "Ho" I mean "Oh," I said inaudibly. Being mostly naked myself, as per usual and nessesarily in this ridiculous heat, but too tired to feel awkward, I asked for agua para tomar. Responding with laugher, at any number of thing: the pink hanker chief sticking outta my shorts, my poor spanish, or the peeling skin off my back; at the hint of feeling uncomfortable I turn and walk away to more laughter and calls of "papi." But quickly one departed the crew and responded to my request for drinking water. First cold water i've had in days, if not weeks! they even offered me cola, which I refused. No sexual compensation required! Which makes this story (pleasantly, in my opinion) anticlimatic, I know. Made it on to La Toma for the rest of the siesta.
Mina Cavero to San Luis in two hard days and a morning stroll! It was bleak at times, but good thing I Have the experience level to convert health from my full mp meter

Have some pictures! Sorry there's none of the harlots. I got outta there before pimp daddy showed up. Unfortunately they're mostly of me as my general companionship (used loosely) was largely with truckers and gas station attendants aside from the occasional helpful melon merchant, firemen, and such local who I didn't generally stop to photograph. But, hell, I'm a regular Katie Gill with this shit. I mean Hunka.






"melon!! I need your water!"

February 1st:
Sooo...i met a few interesting people hanging around San luis waiting for my bus. While pulling what I call a samurai sleep in front of the bus station. I'm brought to my feet, without the help of this off balance drunken sonofabitch, though he reached out his hand as if to pull me up, by a man who is so drunk that I'm sure I wouldn't have known what the hell he was talking about had he been speaking ingles. Yet for all his admitted alcoholism he carried it very well, if wellness can be constituted from such a vulgar manner. But what I found remarkable, due to my many encounters with drunks in the states, is that when I asked him for a smoke, more to make conversation since he seemed not to have exhausted his interest in me and my bike, he instructed me to follow him as he went to the station shop and bought a pack of 10 cigs and handed them to me and insisted that I keep them. Whe I said, "no, solo quiero uno!" and tried to give him the rest and 50 centados. He reacted by giving me the rest of the change which was a peso or three. I thought admitted alcoholics asked for my money but these argentines keep throwing me for a loop. Even the cops and helpful and nice when they find you sleeping in strange neighborhoods!






"Sergio is going to the desert, he needs lots of water"









"I don't care who ya are, that's a good torta right there"

February 3rd:
Soo... Never in my life could I have imagined such force of living breath! The trees hulled up there root to hide under the mountain and those that didn't were hurdled over the eastern ridge to a dry, dusty graveyard in the pampas. I though gales like this only came from the miles of expansive open ocean. These descended from their home in the heavens just to test my metal. I must say I feel honored. I hope the mountain biking couple I passed before the south west bend made it through or back alive, they had twice the cargo I did aside from the trailer they were hauling. I was riding as a steady 45 degree angle leaning to the right so as not to get thrown into traffic, and every time I leaned back off locked elbows I was lifted up and carried back 100 yard. Right as I let out a challenging roar, buckled down, geared up, and headed straight into the mouth of Aeolus I saw a sign 27 kilometers to San Martin de Los Andes, almost halfway there and twice as far as I though I'd come. Never stop pedaling my friends even when it feels like you moving backward. Thank you Patagonia, what would have otherwise been an hour and a half joyride on, relatively, flat asphalt through beautiful scenery, became a challenge to face and an eye opening exhibit of the power of nature. To think just yesterday I was cursing the breeze brought by large oncoming vehicles, and wishing one going my way would slow down enough for me to draft off. Surprised those automobiles could stay on the road, but of course those freaky things were still whizzing by, oblivious that the world was tearing apart.



"Ya think! Got pretty tired of these signs every 50 yards"







Windy out today...



Overloaded Europeans



San Martin de Los Andes





"there's a fell voice on the wind... SARUMAAAAAN!"



ripio (gravel/dirt/stone) roads and only one flat!



"Onward, Rocinante!"



Miguel, my Sancho Panza



Made it! Now to find Jake and Katie...

The bike trip finally begins! ... then ends.

As you may remember, this trip was planned as Argentina par Bicyclettas, and we had spent way too little time in the saddle so far! Minus a few nighttime spins around Buenos Aires, we worried our bikes would think we'd forgotten them!

So after exploring Córdoba for a day we finally set out to begin our two-wheeled Argentine tour!

After a late start packing everything onto the bikes, we eventually had everything strapped down and shoved off to pedal out of the city and into the hills, heading towards a resort town called Carlos Paz about 35km west. We figured this to be a good beginning distance for me, the complete amateur and gave ourselves the afternoon to get there without plans to go any farther that day.

Well, it was hot. Very, very hot. And my legs got tired quickly. Very quickly.

But we made it!

Jake and Jay were very accommodating of my weakness (and not unaffected by the heat themselves) and allowed for many stops en route, even though it's only about 22 miles total, so we cruised into town and plopped down by the huge reservoir that makes Carlos Paz the summer destination it is.










We were hot and sweaty, and a bit dirty from the road.










After a quick dip for Jay (the geese and jet skis put Jake and I off jumping in) we jumped back on the bikes to find some camping, pedaling up river a bit to the packed sites of Las Ribieras. Yes, it's holiday time, but really? Dance music blasting from every campsite at all hours?!




Thankfully a monsoon downpour rolled in for a few hours and confined everyone to their tents. Not-so-thankfully, the thunderstorm covered our tents in dirt and mud.




And now the reason why that day was my first as well as my only day of the bike trip: Handlebar Palsy. I didn't know what it was either and had to google the symptoms I was experiencing and this article came up right away.

Basically every time we stopped to rest, I noticed my hands would be shaking a bit and it was hard to grab, pinch or grip zippers and laces and such getting food or water out. But it's hot, your heart is pumping and your leg muscles are shaking too so this doesn't seem a strange time for weird bodily problems.

When we reached Carlos Paz and rested by the lake for an hour or so, I took stock of my aching thighs and commented that my ring and pinky fingers were numb and tingly, I couldn't straighten them, and pinching zippers or untying straps was nigh impossible. Jake mentioned that he experienced similar feelings in his hands after gripping the handlebars for a long time and it usually went away after a few minutes or hours.

It wasn't until we rode around town and on to the "camping" (as they call campgrounds here), we'd set up, cooked dinner and showered, that I decided to google my symptoms while waiting for a break in the storm to run back to the tent (stop splashing my clean feet, mud!). They hadn't abated and the pins-and-needles feeling was keeping me very conscious of and vocal about it, I'm sure to Jay and Jake's slight annoyance.

WELL, VINDICATION! It IS a legitimate problem! Nerve damage, even!

My symptoms fit the description of Type 1, and the prognosis says nerves regrow at about 1-2mm per day, so if all aggravating factors are removed (ie. bike riding) the hands should recover function in about SIX TO EIGHT WEEKS!! :(

No more biking for Katie.

The effect of all this, besides the frustrating loss of dexterity and the fact that I write like a kindergartner just learning how to form letters, is mostly the bummer of having to travel a different way. We'd planned to bike because we WANTED to go slowly, through little towns, meeting locals in sleepy villages to buy supplies and getting around under our own power.

Not a trip-ender, but definitely a game-changer.

Crunch Time

And so here it is, January 6th, less than eleven days before lift off on our new adventure.  Since Jake began the blog in November, promising to blog "every day" ... well, you can see how that panned out.  While we would love to be good, diligent daily bloggers, my procrastinating nature only allows me to promise (maybe) one update a week.  And if we end up sharing a bit more often, Hurray!

our proposed route, rough outline. click to enlarge!

So, what's new?  What's been happening since November?  What have we been up to besides work and holiday get-togethers?

Lots.

While in our dreams we could potentially cheap-hippie backpack and ride the way Jay is capable of doing, we have succumbed to the online shopping temptation to outfit ourselves and purchased all sorts of "necessary touring items" online throughout the month of December, everything from cheap ebay chinese panniers to a beautiful Primus omni-fuel camp stove, dry-wicking socks to extra SD cards for the camera.  Jake got the Pinnacle dualist camp cookset for Christmas so we'll have something to cook with and eat out of, and I received Lush solid shampoo and conditioner so we'll have no excuse for dirty hair on the road.

Speaking of hair, the big change around here is that, for the first time in our almost ten-year relationship, my hair is shorter than Jake's hair!  And yes, knowing the love Jake has for his long, flowing locks, you might think this doesn't signify a big change, but since Jake had to cut his hair (thereby decreasing his power levels by half, womp-womp) for work this summer, this means my hair is the shortest it has ever been.  Having admired cute pixie-cuts for many years, it was finally the right time to try it out: easy wear, easy care for the upcoming trip!!

And in recent developments, Jake took his diabolically beautiful Scattante bike in to the shop for a tune up before we head out and, after chatting the knowledgeable employees up, was informed that the beauty was too high-end for such a rough and remote tour!  Had a spoke broken or something on the drive-train gotten knocked out of whack, it would have been exorbitantly expensive or nigh impossible for him to get parts down in South America!  After an anguished night of posting la Diabla for sale online and browsing the Buenos Aires classifieds for a substitute bike to be purchased upon our arrival there, all was remedied the next day when we arrived to pick up the tuned Scattante from the shop: the mechanic showed Jake a Fuji touring bicycle and proposed a TRADE!  His bike was in such good condition having only been ridden in the Pittsburgh Triathlon and maybe 10 other times, They switched it for an equipped steel Fuji with touring tires and a rack, thereby eliminating other items from our essential checklist!

Many, many thanks to the guys at Performance Bikes for their tips and advice and awesome service!  It is more appreciated than you can know!  Expect a postcard!

So that's about where we are at this point!  Packing and sorting and trying to get out of Pittsburgh by the 10th, MD the 11th-13th and heading up to NJ (visiting Jake's grandmother) and NYC on the 14th in preparation for our flight out (very) early on the 17th!