Monday, 24th Oct.
A clear morning on the riverbank. I took my breakfast down to the waters edge and watched the sunlight edging down the forest on the opposite side. The rapids crashed on and on and small clouds of mist shifted shape above the trees until a final dispersion by warmth of the sun.
While I waited for my tent to dry, the fly hanging between a couple of branches, I filled my bottles from the river. The whole day’s ride would be along the river as it converged with others and gained volume, the clear turquoise eventually becoming more pale and opaque as it filled with sediment.
The valley steepened into a canyon and the river’s meander became a faster push through the narrow corridor, violently crashing around corners and dropping down over stepped ledges. Around lunchtime I reach a section where I could see down the canyon ahead, the far side a cliff and the road on the near side cutting along about half-way up. In the distance I spotted two condors flying loops over the river at the same level as the road, occasionally landing on ledges on the cliff side. I sat at a good vantage point and watched their flight, one following the other’s path. I didn’t fully appreciate their size until one of their passes brought them just a few meters away from me. I’m not sure if it was that the mighty condor was after the tortilla wraps I’d just pulled out or that it was just investigating the strange creature sat there in a bright orange jacket. These birds were absolutely huge, I quickly stashed the food back in my pannier. They flew circles over my side of the river for a while, allowing me to catch a few pictures before they disappeared over the ridge.
The afternoon was a difficult ride. There was a fast and fun stretch of downhill with sections in channels blasted through the hills, followed by a longer stretch of climbing back up the other side. Past the entrance to the Patagonia National Park and along a slow incline around the edge of the mountain, still high above the river, the road turned towards Cochrane. There were works on the roads where huge dump-trucks were churning up the loose surface, I followed a convoy down the last hill into the town.
Cochrane has a great plaza filled with tall pines, and a great bakery on the corner filled with empanadas. I sat in the afternoon sun surrounded by three black dogs, watching my every bite. Looking for a campsite I passed a beautiful garden with roughly made wooden benches and tables and a suspended chair swinging under a tree. The smiling owner, Patti, waved me in and offered me a bed in a newly built Refugio (shed) for the same price as a tent.
Austral Spring 