Woke to an old familiar sound. Wind rushing through trees. Thought I had left that all behind.
The clouds are barrelling in and there´s a change of weather in the cooling air. I am sore from a tough day´s ride up to Cerro Bayo and a couple of arguments with trees and hard dirt in Arrayanes Park. I think I might have broken a finger. Luckily it´s one I don´t use too much.
I pack and leave in drizzle, through quaint, unashamedly touristy Villa La Angostura for 24km before getting back on to ripio for the next 50km.
I have a new category of ripio. This one is under construction and will soon be asphalt. For now it is glue. In Europe, tarmac is "layed". Here it is glued to the packed dirt to prevent it sliding off into the bushes. It also prevents me from sliding along above a crawl and it´s tough going. I fear to stop in case it sets and I become part of Route 234.
Except on the bends where the ripio is made from Teflon and tyres disagree on which course to steer.
The rain and wind team up and strengthen against me. I read a sign for a campsite 20km distant and decide to stop there. Or rather I Misread a sign for a campsite. It´s actually on another route which branches from my road - a fact that slowly dawns on me after 25kms. The road is steep sided, I´m knackered and it´s getting dark, when I find this - the worst camp site in the world. But it´s the first flat spot I see in a while. Honest - you can fit a tent in there....
It´s the best I can do and I settle in for a wet night in drumming rain, musing the smooth of the last few days - perfect weather, superb rides, a great camp site for the last 2 nights. Today the rough.
On balance though, I think I´m way ahead...