Another sleep in this morning, not getting out of bed until about 10.45AM, followed by a leisurely breakfast. I seem to be finally catching on to this Chilean thing. Sunday mornings are usually very quiet here - no garbage trucks, no cars, no burglar alarms going off, the dogs seem to give up their patrols on Sundays. The only thing with any chance of disturbing my peace is the church on the opposite side of the plaza with its bells. I notice them sometimes, but must be reasonably immune to them now, as I'm sure I was bothered by them more when I first got here. Still, they come at a reasonable time, never before (I think) about 9AM.
So, what to do with the rest of my day? It isn't the most beautiful day in Copiapo. Nearing midday and it's still quite grey. Still, going on the majority of days in the past week or two, I reckon it will clear up and warm up nicely in the afternoon. I decide I'll take the bike out for a fang. On my map, there are a number of interesting looking roads heading to the mountains to the east, so I'll try exploring one of those for a little while and see where I end up.
Given it is cool, I take the added precaution of wearing both of my polar fleece jackets, along with my thickest shirt. As I head off down the road, I begin wondering if it is the smartest thing to be doing, as it is COLD. My teeth aren't quite chattering inside my helmet, but if it keeps on like this, it won't be long. I think seriously about turning around and retreating to the "Bat Cave", as the wind is cutting through my three layers, however I ultimately decide to press on, as there are hints of blue sky through the clouds ahead. Perhaps it isn't as thick as it seems?
Heading south through Tierra Amarilla and Nantoco, the weather is improving and I find the road I'm looking for. It's not as prominently marked as I'd have thought it might be, but it is sufficient. I'm heading in the direction of Paso Pircas Negras, which is another route through the Andes to Argentina. Given that I don't have a valid passport, I certainly won't be going as far as any border control points along the route, but I've got almost a full tank of petrol and about 5 hours of daylight in which to use it. That should be plenty of time.
According to the sign, the border is a good 160km away - no chance of actually making it there, as the bike has a maximum range of about 350km and I've already used up a good 50 or so of them. Let's see what we see.
Within the first 500m, I find the reason for the large number of trucks that have been on the road, including the one in front of me whose dust I am eating. There is a small ore processing plant just off the side of the road, and the trucks are busy pulling in there to unload their ore. The other side of the road, and the valley all around, contains abundant grape vines. Not too sure how "uncontaminated" they might be, but I'd hazard a guess that even if the area had a problem with mildew on the grapes, these ones might be OK!
The road is in pretty good condition. It is well compacted dirt, with only minor amounts of loose gravel. I can belt along on the straights quite happily, but am far more wary on the corners. I don't want any escapades in the gravel, and am soon reminded of how powerful the bike is as I exit one corner and open up the throttle a bit. The rear wheel spins freely, drifting out to the side, and yeeeha, this is fun, but probably not very wise to keep doing it on roads I don't know, on a bike that is big, heavy and still new to me.
The valley starts out fairly wide and open, but soon narrows and is just spectacular. Mountains loom on either side, the colours are highly variable and I can't help but think of them as "the painted mountains". I wonder if any of the local names might include such a description. For any geo's reading this - truckloads of alteration systems of varying size all the way along here and I wonder how much of the darker bits are iron-rich systems. In places, there are swarms of felsic dykes, all weathered and leaving white slashes across the darker rocks as they erode away. Just beautiful.
I pass little randomly located buildings next to historic mine workings, old mine processing areas or villages (evidenced by the little cluster of stone terraces), little shrines to deceased travellers along the road, small oases when a spring brings water to the surface and so on. The road alternates between long, straight sections, and tightly winding curves where I'm down to around 40km/h.
Then it gets REALLY interesting. The gently climbing road stops and it swings up the hill to my right in a fantastic series of switch-backs. A sealed road through here would be heaven for motorcyclists, but the dirt is a challenge - nervously and slowly around each of the hairpins in the loose gravel, followed by powering out of the corners and a short blat up the straights, then do it over again. It's a heap of fun for the most part, but still nerve-wracking in moments.
I'm starting to idly wonder about how high I am - there is a distinct lack of signs, but I know that I'm only about 110 k's from Copiapo, so the border is a long way ahead. I guess I must be reasonably high, as I have been seeing snow on the surrounding peaks for a while, and now I've been climbing for some time. As I'm having these thoughts, I come around a hairpin and find my first little piece of ice on the windrow of the road in a little niche that is protected from the sun. OK, that means I must be a fair way up.
Before too long, there is more snow, although still only in little pockets that don't see much or any sun. The slope I am riding up is north-facing, so I don't see too much on it, bit the surrounding hills have more and more. I can see a saddle in the hills ahead of me, and I think it'll make a good place to stop and take some photo's. Two corners to go, and there is a short-cut up the hill, saving a few hundred metres off the main road. It looks well used, so I figure I'll give it a go.
The engine of the bike roars as I open the throttle to zoom up the track. The surface is a bit loose, so I drop down to first and ease off the throttle, and am immediately surrounded by clouds of dust whipping past me. For a moment, I am completely confused about what is happening, until I realise that the dust is mine, and is being carried past me by the wind. I get to the top of the saddle and everything clicks into place. There is a howling gale coming up the hill behind me, which I haven't noticed as I've been riding in the same direction as it, and at about the same speed for most of the time. I turn slowly around and for a short while I'm pretty much perpendicular to the wind and nearly blown off the bike. It is very strong, and when I think about parking the bike, I realise that I will have to leave parked very carefully, or the wind will blow it over.
I climb off, looking forward to stretching my aching limbs, and am immediately blown off balance, staggering for a metre or two. Not only is the wind fierce, it is also COLD. It is also extremely dehydrating. I lick my lips to moisten then, but that goes in a second. At one stage I have the idle thought that my tongue will stick to my lips if I'm not careful! It's necessary for a long drink, and being so cold, I manage to spill a few drops, which are immediately flung away by the wind. I am confident that they will not touch the ground, having evaporated first. It's an amazing feeling.
To keep the breeze out, I put my helmet back on and lower the visor. I also put my backpack on to help keep my back a little warmer. I can then appreciate the view. There is a lot of snow here in the sheltered spots, nothing in the open. The difference still surprises me, but I now appreciate that it isn't only the sun that helps to disperse any snow accumulations.
Back on the bike, I keep on for a kilometre or so, but I've pretty much reached my logical turn-around point, around 140km since I refuelled, so allowing for a safety margin, I should go back soon. The saddle also marks a sensible geographic turning point, as at least for a while, the road looks to be dropping down into the next valley.
Back I go, picking my way carefully down the hills and around the loose gravel in the hairpins. I've really noticed the cold today, and am extra careful because of the dulling of the senses that comes with being a bit chilled. The temperature readout indicates a balmy 12 degrees, but I'm convinced it is colder than that. I've really noticed the heated hand grips today and am very thankful for them. I've reported previously that I was underwhelmed by them, but I appreciate them today and am now a convert!
The ride back down through the valley goes much quicker than the ride up - it's funny how that happens. Still, I'm thankful for it, as I'm feeling tired and sore from not being used to the heavy bike.
In the shelter of the valley, the sun has heated things up to allegedly just under 20 degrees, so I have started to warm up again, however coming back into Copiapo, it looks like the sun hasn't made it through the cloud at all today and it is back to being cold, around 15 degrees.
Back in the apartment, a quick review of my route on Google Earth shows that the pass I turned around at is indeed rather high, 3200m exactly according to the point indicator. Just remarkable, nearly 1000m higher than Australia's highest point, and I've just zoomed up there on the bike on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
Spicy lentil and vegetable soup for dinner - not bad at all, if it is permissible to critique ones own cooking!
Definitely need an early night, and will be sore tomorrow. Just a fabulous day.
Love to all my three readers!
A
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