On the ripio, not only is the gravel a struggle, but the truck traffic blows up tremendous dust clouds. The truck drivers are courteous, and respect that motos are having a tough time on the gravel.
The plan is to ride up the Ruta 3 into Brazil, if I can get a visa for Brazil. The road is paved and in good shape, with considerable construction and improvements going on. There is lots of petroleum development in this area, and traffic and costs are increasing significantly...in the past couple of days, we have ridden close to 1000 kilometers of flat, unremitting plains. I will be rolling into Beunos Aires on a bare tire, thats for sure. There are lots of sheep, everywhere, and along with them, the wandering packs of uconoas. (Thats not how to spell their name, but the poor interweb is bugging me, and impacting my memory cells..) Lots of road kill on the straight stretches, with a dead uconoa about every 10 kilometers or so. I would not want to hit one on the bike, as the males are as big as a good sized deer.
Flat, flat, and more flat...with wind to keep me awake...
Before autos, the local ranches and farms relied on horse (or oxen) power. A local cafe that we stopped at for a break had a collection out back. The wheels on this one were taller than me by a foot or so....
The cafe was cooking up a sheep for the day...
I had a very interesting conversation with the chef. He used to ride motos, has ridden bicycles all over South America, and he has walked 4600 kilometers in Argentina. Considering my musings about walkers in a former blog, it was very interesting to hear him talk about taking 12 days to cross a desert, and the last two days without water. He had clearly overcome some heavy duty fears and anxieties on that particular jaunt, and it was very interesting to listen to his philosophy about the differences between those who travel, and those who don't.
View Larger Map
