National Park Nahuel Huapi

Thursday 8th

Weatherise the day dawned clear and bright, panic wise things were also heating up. Last night I returned to the hostel to find my room locked and my stuff gone. Tracking down the owners revealed that as the only occupant of one room, I had been moved to another. I now shared with 3 others, my room was locked down to avoid spread of the contaminating ash. My gear was also locked down in a potato storage cupboard. I knew not why, but I could not move it to the new room, questions elicited emotional responses way beyond my limited understanding....

Next morning, more paying guests were turned away as the cleaning and packing up continued apace for the owners departure. Hasty plans were being made for the other 3 remaining guests departure as well.

When suddenly it all changed. There were 500 litres of drinking water in the tank and the place had a well, it was revealed. Full buckets suddenly emerged for washing and toilet flushing and the next guest to arrive was accepted as the place was unexpectedly reopened. I waited over an hour for the potato store to be reopened as well to reclaim by panniers.

I left Joe, Halad (2 Israelis) and the chaos very very late for beautiful clear blue skies pondering on an interesting stay at Hostel El Molinito...



National Park Nahuel Huapi was on my list of must see destinations in Argentina, alpine meadows, 3500m peaks, glaciers, lakes and rivers. It´s got them all and I got the day of days to see it.



Michael had left the previous day to save cash by camping and to try and keep ahead of the ash, so I was back to solo cycling for the first time in a while. We agreed to meet at a lake 95kms away, or in Bariloche failing that.



Another just gorgeous days ride with 2 tough climbs as I moved further in to the Andes, the first from some 400m up to 1000m, before descending dramatically again at glorious speed through incredible vistas. I tarried shamelessly to goggle and gape at awesome picture postcard scenes and to wonder at my newly acquired powers of invisibility. Judging by the number of near misses I was suddenly getting with passing traffic, invisibility was the only explanation.

Until it became clear that I was a human chameleon. My ghost like grey apparel was blending in seamlessly with the ash covered foliage of the background and drivers could no longer see me. I pondered whether to use this amazing power for crime or for good deeds.... But then I also pondered on some fairly crap driving....

The next pass was a killer, a low gear grind for 13kms to crest 1250m, small beer for what´s to come, but enough for today. I managed about 85 of the 95kms I needed to make to meet Michael, but it was getting dark and freezing cold on roads eclipsed from sunlight by looming peaks. I needed to descend fast and pitch camp and then I found beautiful Lago Guillelmo next to a no camping sign. It was dark so I didn´t see the sign, just the lake. Another beautiful campsite....

Panic in El Bolson

Wednesday 7th

Inevitably we are caught again as the grey soup makes it´s inexorable way north. Hitting a town means hitting the media and the the news casts have a hysterical edge which spreads panic through the town. Last night the drinking water became undrinkable at midnight. Why midnight, I do not know, but the news announcer confidently predicted that potable water of just a few minutes ago was now poison as the clock chimed it´s twelfth.

Water soon disappeared from supermarket shelves as people began to hoard and the hostel decided the only reasonable measure was to turn off the whole water supply for fear of poisoning paying guests. Bad for business they cried. I pleaded I had been safely drinking 6 litres a day from lake and river after parting the ash by hand, but to no avail. The water borne peril was just too great they cried. The toilet born stink was worse I cried as cisterns ran dry and they flushed no more.

People with bookings were turned away and the hostel would close tomorrow the owners cried; they must run to the hills to avoid this deadly menace. I decided to stay an extra day partly to rest after 3 hard days, partly to stock up on food but mainly to observe the growing mania.

Acid rain they now cried. I turned my eyes to the cloudless skies that seemed to be clearing it´s ash grey back to blue. Hmmmm. I do love a good panic...

However, I began to panic when dreams of washing my riding clothes faded (water was now too scarce to waste) and I resigned myself to riding out of here suited up in hard set concrete covered gear. The smell was definitely taking on a life of it´s own....

Still El Bolson is a pretty enough place to kill a day...

The Noose Tightens...

Tuesday 6th

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...

The Chase Is On....

Monday 5th

The wind changes in the night.... I awake to dark shadows on the tent... and an inch of ash below the fly sheet. The tent is buried, the bikes are covered, and the world has disappeared again. The volcano is following us....





A quick breakfast and we take up the challenge of staying one step ahead. Speed is of the escense so we limit ourselves to just a 3 course breakfast... There´s simply no time to make omelettes as well....

The lake has been claimed and the trees sink into the eerie grey gloom. Ghost trees...



We ride.... ripio be damned.... we make haste...

Clearing another small pass we descend back into technicolour - it´s like removing your eyeballs and giving them a good clean. I pity the poor people who grew up before colour telly when the world was in black and white and like this all the time.



We pass beautiful Lago Rivadavia to our left which would have been wasted had we not kept in front of the ever advancing grey. It´s a stunner!



We pass a small village (Lago Rivadavia) and a small town (Cholila), but we must not tarry. We put in 85kms of hard ripio, riding until sunset, and camp at an estancia. May the winds blow a different course on the morrow....

Armaggedon Alerces

Saturday 3rd Sunday 4th

Saturday is a right off as the ash is too thick in the air to ride. Sunday is not much better, but there is a rumour from travellers coming South that El Bolson (250kms North) is clear, so we head out figuring the ash could be around here for many days....

We head north to National Park de los Alerces which proves to be a grim sight in hues of grey. Trees and land blur under the weight of grey ash and dust.



The apocalyptic scene is heightened when we discover the road in to the park has been closed. Road barriers add to the sense of unreality and I am reminded of "end of the world" disaster films and imagine the last 2 humans escaping to the mountains covered is ash.



Debating whether the the barriers and road closures relate to cyclists or just cars - we head on to search for further information... We see no one, we hear nothing, animal sounds are curiously absent as birds take in their changed world. Gusts of wind raise smoke pillars from the trees that twist and turn in eddies. The park is named for the Alerces tree - an ancient conifer which should be turning a golden yellow as autumn progresses. All trees are indistiguishable and uniform grey now.

We climb, light rain falls, but does nothing to clear the air. The road turns sticky as water hits ash and we struggle up the steep incline past dead machinery left by construction workers. It´s Sunday so they are absent..... or are we really the last 2 humans? We venture on - and see no one....

Descending - colour returns briefly to the world as the land is shielded from the ash carrying wind. We reach beautiful Lago Futalaufquen turned milky aqua marine and covered with a white dusting of powder. Punta del Mattos affords amazing views along 3 legs of the lake and we find a camp spot right by the beach.



We BBQ steak and chorizo sausage over the fire pit and watch an amazing sunset as the ash heavy air turns an angry crimson, echoed by the still lake waters. We see no one....

Esquel - A Vision of Hell

Friday 2nd



¨AUTHORITIES evacuated hundreds of people from villages in southern Chile on May 2nd as a snowcapped volcano considered dormant for thousands of years erupted. The blast sent minor earthquakes rippling through the region.

The 1,200-meter (3,550-foot) Chaiten volcano belched fire and ash Thursday night, causing more than 60 small tremors in the Los Lagos region.¨

ShanghaiDaily.com

The fork in the road before Futaleufu takes on a significance today we never suspected. Had we continued North on the Carretera, we would have woken in Chaiten today - the town closest to (and taking it´s name from) the erupting volcano. The place was evacuated this morning and lies under several inches of ash. There were thankfully no fatalities.

The wind deposits ash across the whole width of Argentina from it´s western border to the Eastern coast and as far as Africa. Check out some amazing satellite images here

This is Esquel - roughly 75kms away.



I awoke to "snow", but warm snow and sleep confusion made no sense of it, until I heard the news from other campers. Walking through town reveals an apocolyptic scene, people are scarce, some wearing masks, a strange quiet has decended and footprint trails line the streets. Ghost cars drift silently by, greyed out, headlights failing to penetrate the gloom. The air is thick and cloying.





I guess a change of plan is in the air and I might be here a day or 2.....