This week has taken us from a sofa in Santiago to a 3185 metre Andes pass and back down to a vineyard in Mendoza. It has brought the most challenging day, and definitely the most rewarding two.
We were stuck in Santiago for longer than expected, waiting for our camera to be repaired. Our boulder like muscles seemed to deflate visibly with each passing day and our confidence in tackling the big pass wilted simultaneously.
It was not a wasted week though. We moved house, bunking up with Andres, our new couchsurfing host. Anna strode gracefully into her mid to late twenties on the 30th of March and we celebrated with something a bit different - a cycle ride around the city. With the streets closed for bikers each Sunday morning we took in the sites without fearing for our lives. In the same afternoon Andres drove us up to the nearest mountains giving us a taste of what was to come in the following week.
We finally got the call to say our camera was good to go and we said our goodbyes to Andres and wobbled off slowly with the strong suspicion that our bikes had doubled in weight in the last week. It was a predictably stressful day leaving the city, with my proposed route becoming slightly too life threatening we took the backroads and pavements and it wasn't until the evening that we escaped the clutches of the city.
The following day took us North towards Los Andes and onwards towards the pass. Feeling the heat of the sun and possibly underestimating what lay ahead we camped just 10 kms into the 55km climb. We were on our bikes early and began the ascent, with the road gradually steepening as we forged further into the mountains.
We cycled upwards all morning, anticipating the famous switchbacks for long before we reached them. With every passing kilometer uphill we lost confidence, knowing that the real ascent had not yet begun.
Finally we pulled up to the bottom of 30 switchbacks that snake up the mountainside. After 10 we felt good, 20 we slowed a little and as the final 10 lengthened and steepened we struggled. As we slowly gained height the mountains seemed to rise with us, growing to such formidable dimensions that I felt like I was 2 inches tall riding an incredibly intricate toy bicycle.
On reaching curve 30 I felt fantastic, a feeling that lasted for a good 10 minutes until we crept up on a sign signaling a further 8 kms to climb. The incline was unrelenting, with the wind blowing stronger and the temperature dropping. That 8 kms alone took us around 2 hours. Out of nowhere we reached the summit having climbed over 2000 metres in altitude since the morning. The summit; rather than the panoramic, flag placing kind, consisted instead of a less than glamorous tunnel that entered out into Argentina.
Not being allowed to cycle through it, we were given a lift and we appeared on the other side of the mountain, looking downwards for the first time in 2 days. The day hadn't quite finished, with 16 kms of downhill to take us to border control. Darkness hard fallen by the time we pitched tent, it had been a 12 hour day and we were feeling a little sore.
I had envisioned the easiest of days following the climb, a sort of bobsleigh run descending the 200 kms to Mendoza. But it wasn't to be. With the wind gusting up the valley our tired limbs were forced to work for every metre. It was the most spectacular days riding of the trip, 70 kms of immense mountains on all sides, a 200metre wide river bed, inca ruins, tunnels. It was unforgettable.
We camped beside a river beneath the backdrop of the Andes, a spectacular sight to wake up to. The second day of descent took us from red to brown to green as we left the mountains behind us and approached the vineyards of Mendoza.
Just 30kms the following morning and we have arrived in wine country where we're staying for a couple days in Maipu, which is much nicer than the name suggests.
It has been a challenging few days but it sort of feels like dipping your toe in the lake before taking the plunge. With most of Bolivia lying above 3000metres and at least one much bigger pass to come, we aren't getting ahead of ourselves.
We were stuck in Santiago for longer than expected, waiting for our camera to be repaired. Our boulder like muscles seemed to deflate visibly with each passing day and our confidence in tackling the big pass wilted simultaneously. It was not a wasted week though. We moved house, bunking up with Andres, our new couchsurfing host. Anna strode gracefully into her mid to late twenties on the 30th of March and we celebrated with something a bit different - a cycle ride around the city. With the streets closed for bikers each Sunday morning we took in the sites without fearing for our lives. In the same afternoon Andres drove us up to the nearest mountains giving us a taste of what was to come in the following week. We finally got the call to say our camera was good to go and we said our goodbyes to Andres and wobbled off slowly with the strong suspicion that our bikes had doubled in weight in the last week. It was a predictably stressful day leaving the city, with my proposed route becoming slightly too life threatening we took the backroads and pavements and it wasn't until the evening that we escaped the clutches of the city.
The following day took us North towards Los Andes and onwards towards the pass. Feeling the heat of the sun and possibly underestimating what lay ahead we camped just 10 kms into the 55km climb. We were on our bikes early and began the ascent, with the road gradually steepening as we forged further into the mountains.
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| The first 12 switchbacks |
Finally we pulled up to the bottom of 30 switchbacks that snake up the mountainside. After 10 we felt good, 20 we slowed a little and as the final 10 lengthened and steepened we struggled. As we slowly gained height the mountains seemed to rise with us, growing to such formidable dimensions that I felt like I was 2 inches tall riding an incredibly intricate toy bicycle.
On reaching curve 30 I felt fantastic, a feeling that lasted for a good 10 minutes until we crept up on a sign signaling a further 8 kms to climb. The incline was unrelenting, with the wind blowing stronger and the temperature dropping. That 8 kms alone took us around 2 hours. Out of nowhere we reached the summit having climbed over 2000 metres in altitude since the morning. The summit; rather than the panoramic, flag placing kind, consisted instead of a less than glamorous tunnel that entered out into Argentina.Not being allowed to cycle through it, we were given a lift and we appeared on the other side of the mountain, looking downwards for the first time in 2 days. The day hadn't quite finished, with 16 kms of downhill to take us to border control. Darkness hard fallen by the time we pitched tent, it had been a 12 hour day and we were feeling a little sore. I had envisioned the easiest of days following the climb, a sort of bobsleigh run descending the 200 kms to Mendoza. But it wasn't to be. With the wind gusting up the valley our tired limbs were forced to work for every metre. It was the most spectacular days riding of the trip, 70 kms of immense mountains on all sides, a 200metre wide river bed, inca ruins, tunnels. It was unforgettable.
We camped beside a river beneath the backdrop of the Andes, a spectacular sight to wake up to. The second day of descent took us from red to brown to green as we left the mountains behind us and approached the vineyards of Mendoza.
Just 30kms the following morning and we have arrived in wine country where we're staying for a couple days in Maipu, which is much nicer than the name suggests.
It has been a challenging few days but it sort of feels like dipping your toe in the lake before taking the plunge. With most of Bolivia lying above 3000metres and at least one much bigger pass to come, we aren't getting ahead of ourselves.
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