Wandering Wheels: Day 69 – V.L.Rivadavia to Lago Epuyen

Leaving Rivadavia

Woke to yet more rain and put an extra large pan of porridge on. Left at 9.30 with all our wet weather gear on, only to remove it all after ½ hour when the clouds broke and the sun made an appearance. The road surface had a lot of loose stone and we spent most of our cycling time scanning for the best line instead of enjoying the wonderful views, of which there were many! We stopped often and came to the conclusion that some dirt roads (ripios) were not conducive with riding to appreciate the scenery……we found it quite frustrating. However, dirt roads are the only choice through many of the National Parks so we took our time and stopped often. After an hour we reached Cholila, another town synonymous with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and bought fresh bread and a pile of pastries from a great bakery (Panaderia Don Molina)where the owner insisted we try before we buy! The road north of Cholila was shown as 'under construction' on the map, but was in fact another dirt road. The woman we spoke to in the restaurant yesterday said they had been working on it for 5 years with no sign of any improvement....or work! We passed the derelict cabin where Butch Cassidy had apparently hidden in the last few years of his life and spoke to man at the side of the road who showed us his book with old black and white pictures of what it used to look like. The weather was now warm and sunny and we stood under the shade of a tree to eat for the first time in over a month (sat beneath the shade of a tree that is). We were now travelling through a broad valley with rolling hills and views of distant mountains which looked very inviting. After 50km a central double yellow line appeared on the horizon and suddenly we were rolling smoothly along a paved road. We could now relax and look around without the fear of hitting potholes, deep gravel, washboard or mud. We freewheeled down a long hill into Epuyen and out the other side to Lago Epuyen where we hoped to camp. We got chased by a particularly persistent dog, who only broke stride when we raised our hand as if to throw something…it seems to work on most occasions amazingly. We set up camp in a beautiful location beneath some pine trees next to the lake with only the sound of the wind blowing through the canopies. The season was slowing down and there was only 2 other tents. Despite the tranquil scene we spent a while trying to work out the quietest spot away from ‘asado’ pits and the main toilet block. After showering we returned to a familiar scene which nearly tipped us over the edge. Yet again a car had pulled up with its radio pumping at FULL volume whilst its occupants sat drinking beer staring at a pile of canvas and poles…..right next to our tent! In a Basil Fawlty fit of pique we felt like running up to the car, quietly dismantling the radio and throwing it into the lake. To preserve our sanity and guarantee a peaceful nights sleep we took the tent down for the fourth time on this trip and went to the restaurant to enquire about a cabana that had sound and smoke proof walls. Our tolerance was now zero. Ironically, we knew that there would be no drunken behaviour.....just noisy exhuberence..and lots of smoke! Argentinians just like to enjoy themselves quite loudly...until the early hours..if they sleep at all. Perhaps it's the Mate they all drink.....maybe that's where we were going wrong. Thankfully, they had a cabana free. We locked the door behind us and sat at a little wooden table and felt a bit homesick. I popped into the restaurant to pay the French owner who was glued to the winter Olympics with a cat on her knee, a dog on her feet and a cigarette hanging from the side of her mouth. At 11.00pm, despite the distance from the campsite, we could still hear the music and felt quite relieved we had made the right decision.