Cochrane

Face down in the dirt, surrounded by dogs. Not how I´d imagined the first day back on the bike ending. For the first time all day I was actually going at a decent speed when they came at me across a field. Four bloodhounds and a wee shitey thing. Poor quality hunt sab. footage played in my head. Foolishly I took my eye off the road to persuade the nearest one I wasn´t a fox and I was heading for the dirt.

On the positive side, it stopped them barking and they scattered. Only the wee shitey one hung around, taking a pee, making it´s point.

A hard day all round. From early it was dry and hot with no shelter, numerous ups and downs and a road best described as corrugated iron with a gravel topping. Then in the afternoon the wind woke up in a bad mood and, when gusting, the only option was to stand and hold on as it lifted the gravel surface of the road and pelted it against your legs.

On the positive side, it beats marking jotters and my legs are nicely exfoliated. No more wind stories. Only a fool brings a bike to Patagonia and then complains about the elemental nature of things.

Fell in with some jolly roadmenders, drinking Mate. Its a herb which grows in Northern Argentina and you fill up your gourd with it, add water and pass it round. There´s a straw with a filter on it so you only get the juice. It´s an important social event and I felt honoured as we sat round the flask of hot water which continually tops up the tea. First impressions were akin to sucking the dregs out of a sodden ashtray. It´s meant to be curative and in a sense it was as it cured any desire in me to try it again.

That was yesterday, this is Friday. Ahead lies four days on the remotest section of the Carretera Austral, to the end of the road. No internet access. Lucky you.

Degrees South: 47.25

Miles cycled: 461