Junin de Los Andes to San Martin de Los Andes (Sat. 1/30)

 

Stats:

- 26 miles
- 500 feet of climbing
- roadkill: 1 huge bird

Sometimes, suffering cannot be measured in elevation gains or distance or wind. Today's challenge was traffic. Our route was pretty direct. Leave Junin de Los Andes on the highway and arrive into San Martin de Los Andes on the same highway. 

Highway --- one might think of the 12 lanes on I-405 through Southern California. Or, one might think of the two lane Highway 1 along the Pacific Coast.  For today, you need to take a bit of both --- take the speeds of a massive highway, make it a two lane road, shave off about three feet in width from each lane, build no paved shoulders, groom the ripio shoulders into loose and canted surfaces,  give it some twists and turns, and instruct the drivers to use only the gas pedal. That was today's road. 

After a while of jumping on and off the ripio shoulders to avoid being on the pavement while opposing traffic passes each other, Arn declared, "If you think paddling class 4 water is more dangerous than this, then you're crazy". He's right.  This kind of cycling is extremely stressful. You are constantly fearful of being run off the road or worse. You realize how much your health, well-being, and life are dependent on the good judgment of others. 

Eventually, we developed a "system". Seriously, did you expect anything less from us!?!?  It went like this....I rode in front. Arn rode in back. The front rider calls out all head on approaching traffic. The front rider has to be on the look out for oncoming traffic and cars passing.  In other words, two lanes of head on traffic (cars passing cars have zero respect for the cyclists on the other side of the road).  With two cars head on, the front rider calls, "get off" (more on what this means in a second)  The back rider calls all traffic attaining from behind us. The back rider is responsible for assessing when both sets of traffic will reach us. The back rider calls "get off".  This means slide off into the ripio as there are going to be cars in both lanes of traffic at the same time and we don't want to be on the road with them. Either rider can call, "clear". This means it is clear to hop the bike off the ripio and back up onto the pavement.  

To help you appreciate this "system", it sounds like this (A=Arn & D=Deborah):
  
D: I have 2 up in the distance
A: I have nothing back
D: I have 2 about to pass
A: I'm still clear....I have something back in the distance.
D: I have nothing
A: I have three back. 
D: I'm still clear
A: Stay on. They can pass. 
D: I have something in the far distance. 
A: I have 2 back. 
D: I have 3 up. Two cars and a bus. 
A: I have a truck and a car.....get off!!!!
A: Clear. 
D: I have a line up. 
A: I have nothing. 
D: It's a line up. They are passing. 
A: I'm still clear
D: We've got 2 head on...get off!!!!
A: Clear.

And so, it went. Like this for many miles. At the half way point, we pulled off and enjoyed brownies filled with dulce de leche. They are a packaged snack like a 'ho ho' or 'twinky', only they are really pretty good. Or maybe they just tasted this way because my brain felt tired since mile 5. It was a mind game getting to mile 13. I felt like I was decomposing and Arn chirped up, "You know, my butt doesn't feel as bad as I thought it would. Maybe your idea on the Advil helped".  (Today, it is important to remember that I packed the first-aid kit). 

Just outside of San Martin de Los Andes, the traffic increased even more. We started to have more constant traffic and we were forced to ride longer stretches on the ripio shoulders. Then, there came the call that I failed to hear. I called, "cars up".  Arn called, "cars back, get off!". And then he called something that had yet to be called, "I can't get off!!!". Yep, I missed that one. I wish I had heard it. When he said "get off", I looked at the shoulder. Like two great kayak guides have taught us --- before you go running away from something, make sure you know what you are running into. I looked. I knew. The pavement ended. There was a gulley or ditch along side the road. It was only about 18" wide.  The ripio beyond the gulley canted downhill away from the pavement. So, I slowed down a bit, dropped into the gulley, popped out the far side, and I tried to hang on as the bike started sliding downhill. Wham!! You guessed it. I crashed. I rolled over in time to see Arn just clear me. My first thought was -- I'm so glad I didn't take us both out. My second thought was -- I'm so glad he didn't run me over. Well, this just about stopped traffic. The car that was passing us pulled off. The woman was out of her car and to us before I had the bike back up and off the ground. She kept insisting that I drink water, so I did. Luckliy, the bike seems fine. Oddly enough, I think the panniers gave me a slight second worth of break on the fall. I tore holes in my favorite tatoo arm warmers. There is a much bigger matching 'hole' in the skin of my forearm. My Pearl Izumi shorts survived undamaged (good thing I switched from ASSOSS -- they could never hold up to that kind of test).  So, after clearing the dust and checking the damage, we continued the last few miles into San Martin de Los Andes. 

Taking a tip from my mom who took pain meds before physical therapy sessions after each of her numerous orthopedic surgeries (she is the bionic woman), I popped two advil and got in the shower.  Up until this point in my cycling experiences, all of my falls -- and there have been some spectacular crashes -- have been on dirt and at relatively low speeds.  So, I was surprised to learn that road rash can occur through your shorts while your shorts remain undamaged. Clearly, this is good because I need those shorts. Much to my dismay, I should have taken the two Vicodin I'm carrying instead of the Advil before cleaning things up. 

To save weight, I didn't bring my tube of Neosporant with painkiller.  No, I saved 2oz and brought sample packets WilITHOUT pain killer!  I also brought only one super large Telfa pad and a reduced stash of my super good medical tape for creating bandages. So, now I wonder --- can I grind up a tablet of Cipro with a tablet of Vicodin, mix it into Vasoline, apply to a feminine hygene minipad, apply that to an open wound, and tape it up with sports tape?  What are the right ratios for this??  I bet the answer lies out on the Interent. Search: "how to make your own antiobiotic cream"!

Oh well.  After my laprascopic hysterectomy, Arn told me that if the surgical scars bothered me, then I should quit mountain biking immediately as I have accrued much worse scars from it.  I have a few more "tatoos" by which to remember some o life's adventures. Arn found a wonderful hosteria for us in San Martin de Los Andes. Our room is comfortable and the setting is lovely with rose bushes everywhere and fresh roses in our room.  Tomorrow is a day of rest.        

? to Junin de Los Andes (Friday 1/29)

 

Stats:
- 57 miles
- 3400 feet of climbing
- Roadkill: 1 mouse, 2 small birds, 1 rabbit, and 1 very large skeleton which Arn thought was a sheep and I thought was a cow but we both thought at first it was dead cyclist that we both felt like
- Many friendly motorists that waved, honked and cheered

It was the end of the day, Arn was in the tourist office gathering information on lodging and I was outside with the bikes. A man approached and explained that he too is bike touring. In fact, he crossed the pass yesterday that we crossed today. After he did the typical scan of our set up -- bikes, load, packing strategy, lashing system --- he asked, "What are those shoes like to walk in?"  I replied, "They aren't road shoes. They are mountain bike shoes".  (Road shoes are notoriously difficult for walking). Not happy with my answer, he said, "Yeah, but what are they like to walk in?"  This time I answered, "Well, they have very stiff soles." (Stiff soles make for better power transfer from the rider to the bike).  Still stuck on his point, he repeated,  "Yeah, but what are they like to walk in?" Growing weary with his question, I said, "I don't know. I bought them for cycling. I don't walk much in them."  Clearly aggravated, he asked, "Yeah, but what are they like to walk in and push your bike? Like when you pushed your bike up the pass you crossed today."  I replied, "I don't know. I rode my bike. I never pushed it."  The pass between Pucon and Junin de Los Andres is a real suffer-fest!  So, with this said, let me go back now to how it all started. 

After a breakfast of homemade bread and my treasured peanut butter, it was time to face up to the grueling climb that confronted us.  With overcast skies and cool temps, we changed gears and immediately started climbing. The surface was lousy ripio.  There must be some piece of construction equipment called "The Cylist's Nightmare". It generates a sea of deep, loose, sandy soil chocked full of rock in assorted sizes. The rock was everything from basketballs to cantaloupes to softballs to oranges.  Nothing was packed down.  Our choice was loose or looser. And then, it was steep and getting steeper. After roughly five minute (I'm not kidding on this), Arn asked, "Are you tapped?"  Meaning -- do I have any easier gears left or I am riding the granny gear.  I quickly said, "No, I have one gear left. And you?"  He said, "Me too, one left.  Mentally, I can't go to the last gear." (I should clarify. We don't ride with the same set of gears. If I were on Arn's bike, I would have run out of gears about three gears ago). And this was the mental twister for the next hour and forty minutes -- 'I can't use my last gear. It could get worse around the next corner and then I will really really need it. I have to save it. Yes, it must be saved. But, if I swtiched gears -- if I used it -- well, then this wouldn't hurt so much. I could spin better. The pressure would lighter.  My back wouldn't hurt. It would be easier. This would be better. Yes, definitely better.  Oh, but then what would happen if it gets steeper around the next corner?  Could I hold on?  That could be really bad. I would be stuck already in my easiest gear. No, I can't use it now. I have to save it. Yes, I'll suffer this and save it. Wow, this still really hurts. Maybe the road is a little better further left.  No, it's not better. If only I was in the granny gear....' And so it went.  For ~1.5 miles, the surface was a true nightmare created by man's attempt to improve the road. Then, the signs of construction disappeared. We passed a Chilean Park Office. A ranger told us the ripio will get worse.  Really?  How is this possible?  Well, the road became a long, unending series of switchbacks. The grade was a pretty constant 8% uphill grind. As for the surface, let's agree that the devil is usually hidden in the details. The road offered two choices.  Option A: very hard, deep and constant washerboard. Option B: soft, deep, loose, sandy soil with many rocks. What first started as, "Deborah, make sure you ride the outside of the corners to make sure oncoming cars can see you", evolved into "You know, the best surface seems to be on the far left side of the road". So, we zigzagged looking for the best surface.  After roughly 7 miles, we were at the pass. With low cloud and fog cover, our views were truncated a bit. We stopped to put on more clothes as the temps were in the 50's. Around mile 11, we reached the Chilean border. After passing through customs and talking with several other travelers (motorists that had passed us on the road), it was time to pull out all of our rain gear.  The heavy fog which had turned to a light drizzle had now turned to rain. Wearing arm warmers, windshirts, rain jackets, Buffs (for neck and head), rain pants, shoe covers (me), and overmitts (me), we headed off for the Argentina customs. There is about a 1km distance between the two.  Again, we cleared customs and spoke with many other travelers. 

So now, we are at the pass and should be seeing a giant, snow capped volcano named, Lanin. All we can see are the sloping shoulders very near to us. The landscape has changed dramatically. While we are still riding in a light rain, the vegation indicates it is a drier climate. We are treated to huge Monkey Puzzle trees. Soon, the rain stops and the sun is starting to poke out. Given our downhill direction and the cool temps, we continue with rain gear. Now, the ripio is downhill, but the surface is lousy --- more deep washer board side by side with loose, sandy junk.  At this point, we have lost count of the number of near misses (nearly dumping the bike and falling over at it starts a frenzied wobble).  Several times, we stop to reattach the bottom connecters on my panniers. They continue to bounce off. Finally, we stop, take all the packs off my bike, change the connector set up, and head off again. This change seems to keep things attached (for today). Then, in the distance, we see a welcomed sight -- pavement!!!  Sweet smooth asphalt!!!  Now, we started riding at 9am. At this point, it is 1:45pm and we have climbed the pass, stopped for two custom checks, stopped for resetting my panniers, have not had lunch and have logged 18 miles!!!  That's it -- 18 miles.  With roughly 37 miles left to reach Junin de Los Andes, neither of us can mentally think about lunch. We continue. 

The next hour in this ride is something out of a fantasy!  With smooth pavement, a slight downhill grade, and roughly a 30mph wind at our back, we are flying!  The sun has returned and we are getting a free ride. Really, we laughed that as long as we are moving at 22 miles an hour, then we are not going to pedal.  We did very little pedaling and exerted very little effort.  In about an hour, we knocked off another 22 miles!  At one point, we had views of Lanin behind us and we tried to stop for a photo. With no place to prop a bike and one of us could not hold up both bikes in the wind, we gave up on the photo and continued flying down the road. At bends in the road, it became necessary to read the wind. It would shift from being at our backs, then to the side and eventually the road would twist once more and it would return to our backs. The inflection points were unstable moments on a fully loaded bike. 

Well, you know what is going to happen next. It was time to make the final turn toward Lanin de Los Andes.  Yes, the 30mph wind is now coming from our right side. You have hears of "paybacks". This was a big "blowback". The only place you want 30mph of wind is at your back. This sucked. And it seemed like it went on forever and ever and ever and ever. The inside of our noses grew raw from the wind blowing so hard. It was during this stretch that Arn declared, "I'm not riding tomorrow. My butt is killing me. Do you think we can find a stand up sushi bar for dinner? I might not be able to ride for a week. Did I mention my butt is killing me?  Do you know how much I hate wind?" Okay, his language was more colorful than this, so I will just let you use your imagination". I tried to maintain a sense of humor and but took to my own colorful language when we met more and more uphill stretches. 

After nearly 55 miles, we saw the first signs of civilization. Really, up until this point, we saw nothing. Okay, we passed perhaps 4 houses, 2 border check points, and one hosteria (think B&B). Our first sign of Junin de Los Andes was what appeared to be the county fare --- hundreds of cars, cattle rings, food vendors, and crowds of people. We wondered what this meant for accomodations. We rode to our first choice -- full. We checked the place across the street -- full. We checked the place down the street -- full. Do you notice a pattern?  Yes, everyone is here for the fare and today is Friday. We checked one more place and they had availability.  I stayed with the bikes while Arn scouted the room.  He returned and we rode on. In15 years of marriage, I have  learned that there are two negotiations in which I am happier with the outcome if I don't show up for the discussion.  The first is selecting movies in a rental shop and the second is in the selection of hotel rooms.  So, lacking alternatives, we head to the tourist office. After a few more attempts, we found a place. While we were looking for two nigts of accomodations, we only found one. Things aren't looking good for a day off the bikes tomorrow.

We checked into the room, dropped the gear, and started to work on about "Plan I"  Since plans A thru H involved a two night stay at one of many different places with a hike on our layover day, it was time to consider a totally different plan. We made the decision to get back on the bikes the tomorrow  and head to San Martin de Los Andes --- 26 miles down the road. To be safe, we (really Arn) researched accomodations and made a two night booking.  It was about this time that our hotel for the nigt offered us a different room for tomorrow night.  Having experienced the bathroom, Arn declared his butt would take another day in the saddle to avoid another night in this room. You see, the shower was this combo deal. One piece of plumbing to rule the world. It was an integrated shower, wash basin, and bidet. Thank god the instructions for usage were printed in both English and Spanish. Add to this one more bit of trivia. At 5'6" in height, I could sit on the toilet while touching one wall with my right foot, another wall with my left foot, the third wall with one hand and the remaining wall with my other hand. Clearly, there is a high school geometrey math problem in here to figure out exactly how small this bathroom was.  I guess this is how you end up with a integrated apparatus such as we experienced!     

Pucon to ? (Thursday, 1/28)

Stats:
- 35 miles
- 1900 ft of climbing
- 1 very flat rabbit (roadkill total)
- many friendly Pucon road cyclists
- many friendly road crew 

Our ride started with a dedicated bike right of way out of Pucon. As we left, many locals and visitors were out for their morning run. Others were on their way to work via bicycles.  Once outside of town, the road split. One way goes to a beautiful lake. The other way heads to hot springs, the border with Argentina and eventually to Junin de Los Andes.  This was our direction. 

After the split, the traffic was very sparse and drivers graciously gave us most of the lane. The views improved around each corner. We were treated to mountains, creeks, rivers, and lots of wild flowers. Eventually, we passed through the last town we expected to see for a while.  The kids in town were friendly, yelling "hello". I guess it is obvious that we are gringos and the kids have the chance to practice the English they are learning in school. 

Beyond town, we could ride side by side and occasionally move over for the lone car. With the river to our left and mountains all around, it was fantastic. But you know, sometimes things change and while you know change is coming; you hope, "maybe it could just change later". 

Ripio. In Spanish it means dirt road. As a cyclist, let me say all dirt roads are not created equal.  There is the "so hard packed with dirt that you might think it is paved" road. Nope, that was not this road. Then there is the "washer board" road that is like riding a corregated gravel road. Nope, that wasn't this road either. No, this is the "we are getting ready to pave it, so we have messed with it a lot" dirt road. So, in places it was like surfing grapefruit sized rocks.   In other places, it offered options to sink into lots of loose lemon sized rocks. And, in parts it was like riding on the beach in sand. "No problem" you say?  I thought that too when I first looked at it. However, with fully loaded bikes, it is a bit sketchy.  It gets a lot sketchy when it becomes a steep climb or descent.  The bikes started out feeling a bit squirrely. We have all the weight loaded on the back, so the front end does some strange dance. 

Then, a mirage appeared....asphalt!  Not chip and seal, but smooth, black, what every cyclist dreams about...beautiful asphalt!  And then we learned it was REAL!  Sweet!  Now, the road grew steeper and steeper.  Our plan was to stop for lunch in about two miles. Traveling about 3.5 mph in almost granny gears (for me) meant it was a while until lunch. 

The road grade leveled a bit and then it turned to --- come on, you know this word in Spanish --- ripio!!!  At this point, we saw what appeared to be a sign for a restaurant (really) and we saw many people working on the road. Arn inquired about the food and he pointed us down the road a short distance. 

The park ranger said we would find camping, cabanas, and a restaurant about 72km (45 miles) from Pucon.  At this point, we had covered 35 miles and it became very clear that this is the place the park ranger described. We enjoyed a hot lunch of lentil soup and home-made bread. We have rented a cabana for the night ($20). 

The setting here is unbelievably awesome!  We are along side the river with crystal clear water. Luckily, the flows are too low to paddle it or Arn would be beside himself. The mountains are incredible. We are facing a feature called "Las Peinetas".  They are jagged spires too steep for vegation. They are a beautiful display of the youthfulness of the Andes where time has yet to smooth and round the surfaces. 

We have explored a bit on foot and found a bridge over the river. It is a lovely setting enjoyed by a few families.   We will not have electricity until 4pm. The crews are here working on the road and electrical lines and towers. If they don't finish, no worries. We have head lamps. The crew have told us what lies ahead tomorrow.  "Ripio muy malo" --- very bad dirt road.  Combine this with what we know from the GPS and topo map (roughly 6 miles and a 2000ft climb to the pass), tomorrow morning is going to be a slog. Arn predicts two hours to the top. We both agree. It will be what it will be. 

Upon out arrival, we met two young kitties.  After strolling around a bit, we encountered a young woman feeding 11 kittens!  They are two different litters. The older group appears to be around 6 months. The younger group is between 6 and 8 weeks. After playing with them for a while, the trouble maker was very easy to identify. She was the smaller black kitten in the older group. I love playing with kittens and stirring up mischief in their antics. With 11 kittens, it is impossible to keep track of who is trying to untie your shoelaces versus who is about is assult your fingers.  

Tonight, dinner is at 9pm. Pasta is the menu (only two choices -- what the cook prepares or nothing).  I remember what my dad said thousands of times while I was growing up. "If your mother can cook it, then the least I can do is eat it".  Same rules apply here!  For a journey that is sure to include more surprises, finding ourselves here is a very sweet one.  Lastly, I find myself feeling very grateful tonight that Arn agreed to such an adventure. I am one lucky girl. 

Are we leaving Pucon?

Okay, there needs to a bit of "format" to this blog. Here is the deal, each post will include a few key highlights (assuming) we have something to share. Based on your love of "road kill counts", we will include it, but don't expect a lot. The past visits have not revealed a lot of wildlife in these parts of South America.

Miles: ~22
Road Kill: 2 birds (1 really big)
Best Language Moment: a menu that includes English and the description of the dish..."meat of beast". No idea what beast!


Well, leaving is going to be hard!

Today (Wednesday), we took the bikes out for a test ride. It was the first exercise I have had since leaving Borrego Springs. It felt great to be back on a bike. For Arn, this was his first cardio exercise in 2010! Okay, maybe he had a few kayaking moments that provided a cardio jolt, but nothing like his regular running routine in Seattle. For me, the endorphin meter was running on empty, so our two hour test ride was a nice warm up. Other than adjusting seat heights and cable tension on my rear derailluer, everything worked well. There was one not so great surprise. We stopped to take photos and within 30 seconds, I was bit! Yes, it was the dreaded tàbanos! They are horseflies on steroids with a much meaner bite. They are so big they cast shadows! I know this because I watched them during our ride. Once we turned into a headwind, they left us alone. The timing for this trip was selected to start AFTER the tàbanos were dead. Their season is very short -- about three weeks. While they typically go for dark colors like black cycling shorts, this bastard went for a bright orange tank top! Evil!!

We made one more interesting observation during our ride today. Do you remember that as kids we cycled against the traffic? You looked head on at what was coming. Then, "they" realized that this was a faster rate of approach than if the cyclist rides in the direction of traffic.
So, "they" made this change and we started riding with traffic. Now, I don't know who the "they" is/was; however, there were some gaps in their communication plan. The real riders in Chile (the Lycra clad crowd with cycling cleats on their cycling shoes and helmets on their heads as opposed to say worn on handlebars, backpacks, or not at all) received the memo. They are riding with the traffic. The other guys, well,
they didn't get the memo. Now, you might say, "what is the big deal"? Picture this: people on bikes riding in BOTH directions on BOTH sides of a two lane road with narrow shoulders and cars and trucks driving at 55 miles per hour. And while I trust how a Lycra clad dude is going
to handle this pass in the shoulder --- he is going to ride on the right (but then he wouldn't be on this side of the road in the FIRST place) --
I have NO trust in how the bikini clad, flipflop wearing teenagers are going to handle this pass. Perhaps, once we are loaded with touring
gear, we will look like wide-loads and command the full width of the shoulder. If you know "they" in this story, let them know. Some people in
Chile need the memo. They are living dangerously!

So, tomorrow is the BIG! We are going to load everything up and head out. The idea is to cross the Andes into Argentina and end up in
Junin de Los Andes. It is roughly 140 km (~88 miles) from Pucon. A park ranger has told us about a camping spot about half way between
here and there. He says there are cabanas and a restaurant. He even claims the man sells beer and wine. The camping is said to be along
a river. The weather forecast looks good; however, temps are supposed to be dropping. If all goes well, we will camped along a river
enjoying pasta and a well deserved glass of wine or beer. And, we will arrive in Junin de Los Andes sometime Friday. If things go bust, then
we could be back in Pucon tomorrow night. Or, we could find something else to explore and then -- who knows.

A Happy Place

After a 12 hour bus ride on Monday, we arrived in Pucon. It was a long day, but luckily many people helped to make it easy. A very nice Chilean man stepped up to make sure our bikes were loaded onto the bus before all the smaller bags. Many hands helped move them through the crowd and onto the bus. In Pucon, one taxi driver recruited the second taxi as it took two to carry the bikes. After dropping everything in our room, we headed for dinner. It was 9pm and everyone in Chile seems to be enjoying summer in Pucon. We enjoyed Pisco Sours and an all meat BBQ dinner while sitting outside. The sunsets are late and the temps are great.

On Tuesday, we enjoyed a late breakfast and then decided it was time to unbox the bikes and see what surprises awaited us. We decided to start with my bike as the box was the more squished in appearance. So, it looked like TSA did a piece by piece check of my bike based on how they re-stuffed it into the box. The rack for carrying gear was twisted and bent. At first, it didn't want to align to the rear axle. Then Arn used a "special bike repair" technique --- brut force! After several iterations, he managed to get it to work. Later, it was time to reconnect the rear derailluer (the thingy-bob that changes gears). The cable housing into the derailluer looked like a family of rats sharpened their teeth on it. At first, we thought the universial repair item (duct tape) would fix it. In the end, we tracked down a bike repair shop and for $.80 we bought a new housing. Everything else on both bikes came together with no issues.

We spent the afternoon sorting gear and figuring out what goes where. More importantly, we tried to figure out the answer to a very important question -- does it all fit? The answer? Let's just say we won't be buying any souvenirs. After the gear sort, we headed off to buy unleaded gas for the camp stove and groceries. We will be dining on pasta with tomato sauce (sold in foil packages here -- not glass jars), soup from dried mixes, oatmeal, cookies, Granola bars, crackers, and PEANUT BUTTER!!!! Arn is carrying the food with exception of the peanut butter. I'll let you figure out who couldn't leave the store without. With our purchases in hand, we stopped for ice cream -- thanks to my Spanish interrogation into flavors, we both ended up with Tiramisu. Our Internet connection is great, so we made a couple of phone calls. Dinner was enjoyed at a Peruvian restaurant. We faced an interesting dilema. Do you order the "Peruvian pisco sour" because we are in a Peruvian restaurant and maybe our waitress is from Peru? Or do you order the Chilean pisco sour because we are in Chile and
perhaps our waitress is Chilean? Luckily, she stepped in and declared the Peruvian pisco sours to be better. Last night's meal was fish followed by more fish.

In case it is not obvious, Pucon is a happy place --- good weather, long days, beautiful scenery, friendly people, and great meals. The lake is a huge beach and sun bathing scene. People stroll the streets with ice cream cones in the afternoon. Locals sell giant containers of fresh raspberries for $4. The dinner crowd starts around 9:30pm. Sandals, flip flops, shorts and t-shirts are the fashion. It is a very, very happy place and we are enjoying it very much!

Reunited and it feels so good!

Yes, we have been singing the Peaches and Herb song, "reunited and it feels so good". After 2 1/2 days, numerous emails, and probably 4 hours in phone calls, we have been reunited with our missing bag. To summarize the experience, I thought I would share a few of my favorites quotes (listed in order as they occured):

- We don't know where your bag is.
- No, I can't call anyone in Atlanta.
- I see that your bag was scanned two nights to go on the plane, but it was never loaded.
- Ma'am, you need clean up your language or our recording system will terminate this call. (impressive technology for people lacking a tracking system)
- This is very strange. I see two lost bags with the same tag number.
- I called Atlanta and your bag was on the flight last night. They did a check at the gate and you bag is definitely not in Atlanta. Maybe it is hung up in customs.
- Your bag did not arrive on the flight from last night. Everything has been unloaded and it is definitely not in Santiago.
- That person in Atlanta lied.
- Someone in Atlanta retagged your bag to someone named Tom Darves.
- Mr. Darves is missing two bags and three bags are tagged to him on tonight's flight. One of those must be yours.
- Mr. Darves is missing a green bag and a red bag. Your bag is blue. We should be able to tell those apart.

So, it is here. Tomorrow we have a 12 hour bus ride to Pucon. Think of this image -- two travelers, 2 bike boxes, and 4 small duffels simulanteously inching through the bus terminal that doesn't have luggage carts. Hard to believe that what is so akward to travel with now is going to be a rolling set up in another 48 hours. On Tuesday, we will open the bike boxes and reassemble the bikes. We are keeping our
fingers crossed as the airlines totally opened both bike boxes. My bike box looks like a tribe of large monkeys tried to use it as a trampoline.

We hope to be sitting in our favorite steak place in Pucon on Tuesday night, drinking Pisco Sours, and celebrating that everything is sorted and assembled and ready to ride!

Guess who is sleeping?

So, Arn said he was not blogging and someone is sleeping. Who is sleeping? It has been a maddening day. Our missing bag reached the "sort" scan last night. This means TSA approved the empty, brand new gas can and the stove (that Arn burned the gas until gone) and they okayed the leather man tool. Still, they didn't put it ON the plane last night. Tonight, it has been scanned for the flight. Good news? Someone had laid their hands on that bag today. Bad news -- "it has been scanned for the flight but it doesn't mean it will be on the flight". Argh.... We will only know it's whereabouts in the morning after the flight arrives in Santiago and the bag is not claimed. As a process engineer, this stuff drives me insane. If FedEx had this failure rate and type of tracking, they would be out of business.

Yes, it had been a long day. Arn is exhausted after no sleep on the flight last night. He quickly took inventory of what he was missing in the MIA bag. His peak frustration occurred around lunch time. I was a bit slower. It wasn't until dinner time that I clued into the location of the first kit and foot care kit ---- some f&$@ing place in Atlanta!!! After a great dinner at Las Vacas Gordas(fat cows--yes we had steaks) with pisco sours and a very nice Chilean wine (and speech about improving our attitudes for two people with no tent and a woman with no cold weather clothing) I returned to the room to discuss such fine topics as "chain of command" and "escalation process" with Delta Airlines. Weary Arn had this to say -- "they changed the status of the bag and this must be good". Clearly he is very tired. I am left awake wondering --- how do you ask for the contents of my first aid kit and repair kit in Spanish? And do they have "primaloft and hydroskins" in Santiago?

Good night! Hasta mañana.

The ODYSSEY has begun

Well, we arrived in Santiago. While Meatloaf sings about, "2 out of three ain't bad", these two gringos find 3 out 4 to be very bad. Yes, one of our bags is MIA. Delta has no idea where it is. The contents include the tent poles, stove, GPS, maps, water filter, my cold weather clothing, and a very long list gear items that we can't begin to imagine what we do without them. So, we both have pits in our stomach as we can't even fathom a plan B without that bag.

It is ten am and the front desk says we won't have a room until two pm. We are sitting and waiting....for a room, for news of our bag. At some point, we will have to decide about the bus tickets we were supposed to buy for Monday. I just can't think about it. We are definitely off to a very uncertain start.

Think good thoughts that Delta finds that bag. As written in the book, 'Worst Journey in the World' (at least I think this is the title, but I am a bit rummy)....things must improve.

My Packing List

Well, I am sitting here look at three small duffel bags. They hold everything we need for the adventure (maybe "odyssey" ahead). Two of the bags were packed many, many weeks ago. The third was packed tonight with my stuff. I feel like Santa Claus. I have checked my list twice and tried to find out what was necessary versus nice. So, here it is...and in NO particular order (unless you have seen my "Packing Check List Form" and then you would know there is a very specific order):

Clothes:
1 pair cycling shorts
1 pair cycling Capri's
1 pair cycling tights
2 tank tops (orange & purple)
3 short sleeve t-shirts (red, black, white)
1 long sleeve t-shirt (grey)
2 arm warmers (black & tattoo)
shoe covers (for cycling)
4 pair socks (2 wool, 2 thin)
3 pair underwear (wow! 2 1/2 months and 3 pair of undies!)
2 sports bras
1 bra
2 pair cycling gloves
1 pair cold weather gloves
1 night gown with slip (doubles as "evening attire"...don't ask what is going to double as my bathing suit!)
1 pair pants (okay, the legs zip off to make Capri's...does this count as TWO?)
1 pair cotton shorts (my "luxury item"...I need some cotton!!!)

Outer Wear:
Rain jacket (sweet men's jacket from Cabala's)
Wind shirt
Prim aloft jacket (makes a great pillow for sleeping)
Wood hoodie (see...the hoodie is another "hat" or "helmet liner")
"Wool buff" -- how to make everything warmer including my neck, face and head
"Buff" -- how to keep the blowing dust out of face or the sun off my head (wait for the photos of this one --- I've studied the "pirate" buff)

Toiletries:
Shampoo & conditioner
Hair wax/gel/clay (hey, it takes "product" for the messy look")
Contacts (6 pair) & a case
Contact solution
Eyeglasses & sunglasses
Electric toothbrush & paste
Dental floss
Sunscreen (face, body & lips)
Lotion
Soap
Tweezers, nail clippers and nail file
Mirror
q-tips (40)
Purell
Zip lock bags --- lots as they are hard to find in South America
Diaper cream (If you need to ask, read further...)
Noxzema (for saddle sores...if you don't know the term, then don't ask)
Preparation H (if you have to ask, then don't)
Tire pump, Bike multi-tool, tire irons, patches and patch kit (I'm in charge of patching flats)
Bike lights, reflector straps, helmets and Road ID Wrist bands (I'm in charge of "safety")

Shoes:
Chacos sandals
Cycling shoes
Hiking boots (Don't start...Arn is taking two pair. His cycling shoes and his sandals. I can't do it. I'm the one who had a cortisone injection in the foot just 3 weeks ago).

General Gear:
Heart rate monitor & watch
iTouch & charger & headphones & Skype microphone
paper & pen & Sudoku puzzles
Laundry detergent and laundry lines
Credit card (1), ATM cards (2), Medical insurance, driver's license, passport, international driver's license
Disposable shower shoes (if you have to ask, well, think about where we might be)
Bug repellent wipes (6) --- hope for no bugs!
Headlamp
Plug converter
Dry bag (in case we need extra storage on bike)
Small day backpack (in case we need to escape from the bikes!)

Camping Gear:
sleeping pad
sleeping bag
silk bag liner
pack towel
folding bucket (to wash clothes)

First Aid Kit: (I'm in charge of all things 'medical')
Tape (2 kinds for strapping arches in feet)
Hydro cortisone cream; antibiotic cream; antiseptic wipes
Blister band aids
Vaseline
Duct Tape
2nd Skin
Swiss Army Knife
Matches
Mini pads/Tel fa-pads/band aids
Chemical hand/foot warmers
Drugs - antibiotics, probiotics, Advil, aleve, Tylenol PM, Imodium, gas-x, Duflucan, stuff for nausea (don't ask), serious stuff for pain (again, don't ask), stuff for the pain of a UTI (you could ask, but I don't remember the name), aspirin

Repair Kit: (Well, I am not "in charge" of repairs, but I "contribute" the following and it happens a lot more often than you might expect)
Velcro, duct tape, zip ties, shower caps, foam strips, rubber strips, cord, grommets, carabinners, super glue, eyeglass repair kit, safety pins, sewing kit, hooks, Sidi shoe straps, patch kit for all fabrics

All the other stuff:
Bike, tent, stove, food, water filter, etc, etc, etc. (Arn is in charge of this stuff)
Snacks --- I am in charge of snacks and if I reveal them here, well, then there will be no surprise for Arn who is flying from Ecuador to Atlanta as I write this post and I know he would love to have what I have packed! (A little something from home and a little something from the desert).
Maps (I think this was Arn's job, but then there are not that many choices)
Sense of Humor!!!
Ability to speak Spanish (Arn...I'm still killing/butchering/slaying the language -- at least I do it with the gusto of wanting to be understood)

In closing, I have to admit, this looks like a VERY long list. If you coule see what it sitting in my living room, it looks pretty small. While cycling, my choices are "purple, orange or red". While off the bike, my clothing choices are "black or white". Clearly, the world is more colorful from the seat of the bike.

If you are crazy enough to have read this far, then please stay in touch! I'd love an email. I think this gear is going to go from looking small to feeling heavy pretty quickly. Maybe you could be part of my sense of humor? I'm going to need one! Lastly, if it looks like I forgot something, please let me know ASAP. I have a short window to fix it.

What is in a name?

Well, we are within two weeks of our return to South America. Or as we like to think of it, the return of summer! Now, this is not exactly the truth. Arn is currently in Ecuador enjoying two weeks of white water kayaking (in warm temps). The water levels are very low, so they are probably engaged in some form of a rain dance as I compose this. Clearly when Arn left Seattle, he failed to take the rain with him. Hopefully our friend, Dave, took it with him when he flew out today to meet Arn for next week's trip. As for me, I promised to sell all my white water paddling gear to avoid a return trip to Ecuador. So, I am enjoying a couple of weeks cycling in the desert outside of San Diego. I am in a place called Borrego Springs. The weather is stunning, the riding is sweet and there are no cars (okay, a few cars). I have met some great people to ride with and have spent most days riding with very nice company. Back to the South America "thing".

The name for this blog came to mind pretty quickly. The single word I thought of was "odyssey". Then, I thought, "well, does this word mean what you think it means?" Given my preference for numbers over words, I thought it was worth a few minutes on Google. Here is what I confirmed: "Odyssey" with a capital "O" refers to Homer's poem about the Greek hero, Odysseus. He fought in the 10 year Trojan War and it took him another 10 years to return home. Despite being an "ancient Greek" poem, it is actually considered very modern, in part, because the events are shown to depend as much on the choices made by women as on the actions of fighting men. In the English language, "odyssey" with a lower-case "o" means: 1) a long wandering and epic journey that is frequently eventful, or 2) an intellectual or spiritual quest.

So, two gringos are going to arrive in Santiago, Chile on January 22nd with two mountain bikes and few small duffel bags worth of gear. After a couple of days enjoying the warmth, sun, and food of Santiago, we will hop on a bus to Pucon, Chile (think the Whistler of Chile). In Pucon, we will put the bikes back together, get the gear organized, do a few test rides, and spend a few days enjoying the hospitality, good food and Pisco Sours. From here, well, who knows. Really, there is no plan --- this is where the "uncertain" word comes from. Okay, this and a blog called just "Odyssey" was not available.

Lastly, let me leave you with this. In the coming weeks as I attempt to blog, please keep this in mind. Should you see "Odyssey" with a capital "O", it might refer to a hero experiencing miles of suffering with the help of a woman's choices. If you see "odyssey" with a lower case "o", then you can feel sure it is two gringos on an epic, uncertain journey that may result in intellectual or spiritual insights.