Caught...
We make ground by day, and are caught by night and we feel the cold grip tighten around our throats. Literally, this stuff is setting like cement in the throat and I ponder on the tree shaped casts forming in lungs never designed to be plaster of paris moulds.
The ash is worse today and passing lorries kick up a dust storm of acrid grit and powder as they loom out of the haze. My eyes sting, I breathe through a nose set solid, my bike makes worrying noises as I work dust into it´s delicate bits.
Head down we ride and the day fades in to a grey haze. After 30kms the road is paved and we ride harder. The mountains are beautiful - I think, maybe I will see them on my next trip...
We make good time - there are no stops today, and 20kms outside of El Bolson the clouds clear to reveal a pretty little town favoured by artisans and a hangout for hippies. Wrapped in steep sided mountains, a benevolent microclimate has evolved and orchards abound. Fruit is everywhere.... We find a hostel and set about scraping days of road dirt, grit and ash off ourselves.
So that´s what skin feels like when it´s not covered in glue...
2 comments:
Yay Martin!!!!
Spectacular insights. We are very inspired! Cycling soon...
M & M Y Ulli de Santiago
XX
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