A horse with no name

And thus I left Córdoba, as always called away by the lust of the adventure and this time, the mountains. Well, the provincia of Córdoba certainly doesn’t compete with the whole cordillera thing in terms of altitude, but I must say that it did provide a nice warm-up!

Since leaving Missiones I solely rode on plains and this time getting engulfed between those two massive hills couldn’t bring a bigger smile on my face. Soon, full of my morning vitality I launched myself like a fnatic into this crazy slope. Quickly the sheepish grin I initially wore shifted into a snarl as the roads climbing along the mountain side by angles between 5 to 15% took me ever higher.

Tirelessly (I wish), I slowly crept my way up to higher grounds and when I finally looked back from the cascade facing me on one side I was greeted with the entire valley expending at my feet.

My advance was encouraged as well by the pouring rain dropped from the swelling mass of clouds slowly soaring up behind me. And, by the best stroke of luck, I managed to encounter some restaurant providing me with a dearly earned (and most basic) salami sandwich only moments before the clouds passed us by, drenching everything outside as well as many things inside. I then decided that I was in no rush to get wet and actually met up with some nice Warmshowers hosts offering me a place to stay in their city, should I ever come through it!

Soon, I was high up over 2000m.a.s.l., and when I reached my highest elevation yet I passed the 4000km milestone. Then through the blowing wind I pitched up my tent and cooked my meal while enjoying the superb colours the sky was offering for dusk.

Dusk only was quite a sight to behold, I will let you imagine the following Milky Way.

And once morning came I got to enjoy my long ride down, not having to pedal for hours on end!

I’m on top of the world!

I’m still wondering upon which criteria do they decide some area is “urbanised”…

The descent was just as cool -and maybe even more so- than what it may look like to you. Alternating the descent with showering myself in the mountain river and getting still blown away by the view all added up to make that morning one of the coolest I’ve experienced (thanks to that oh-so-fresh mountain water).

And after setting up camp at the local firemen station, I went along my road, this time following the mountains from below. But still showing up as imposing as ever.

And soon, I was leaving the green grass and pine trees to more sandy lands. As I looked at the last part of the trip to Mendoza, I was looking at a desert.

That’s the kind of distances we’re talking about here, my next stop was 184km away (a lost service station in the middle of nowhere: Encon)

And about the kind of scenery you can expect from one. Don’t let the greenish aspect fool you: those are actually quite sparsely placed thorny bushes filling up the void you would otherwise have. Long days have ensued this entrance. Listening to one of my favourite song “A horse with no name” I carried my 8-10L of water and kept on under the scorching sun.

A desert, an autel, no living soul 100km around. What’s missing? A barbecue of course! Gotta keep that Asado hype up.

I’ll skip through the few days punctuated by some cars sometimes passing by and get to the end of it. That last morning I woke up, packed my gear and made my way out of this hellish landscape. Then at the horizon come what at first look like clouds. Then as I eat a few more kilometres and slowly rejoin less dry lands I see this.

Now that may not seem much to you. Some mountains over there, great. I do not know if it is possible to explain the feeling I got from these. But after 3 days of very rough, mentally challenging ,unforgiving weather and heat, burned up by the sun despite my layers of sun cream piling up, I was greeted by the sight of those snowy mountains, regal in their appearance. And then I couldn’t hold it, tears ran down from my cheeks mixing cream and sweat, giving them that bittersweet taste as emotions literally flooded over me.

Crying from joy, exhaustion, sense of accomplishment, I strode forward and finally made my way to Mendoza, city of wine where I crashed at the hostel and quickly ran to the showers.

For three days I delved into this whole new universe, speaking English for the first time in months and sharing experiences with other backpackers from all over the world. But now the call of my bicycle comes to me, and the sight of her quietly resting in the hostel courtyard nags me everyday to go, hop on the saddle and leave. Tomorrow I will be leaving and will let you know what adventures will have come my way whenever possible!

Until next time,

Chloé