The solution came when I got hold of a flyer of Bici Norte and phoned Analia who immediately came to see me in the hostel, bringing maps, bus schedules and any information you could have needed. After I had told her what I had in mind we started some planning together. Her original idea that I might take a bus up to the “Piedra de Molino” and then cycle down to Cachi was rejected by me because it sounded to easy.
In the end we agreed that I should go to the bottom of the "Cuesta del Obispo", thus skipping a day's cycling into “Los Cardones” National Park on the road from Salta. As the bus had already gone Analia arranged some transport so I could get there the same day. The bicycle was checked and prepared, I even got some saddle bags for my luggage, straps to fix my tent and sleeping bag as well as a helmet.
I arrived in the afternoon at my destination and immediately set off for the “Cuesta del Obispo”, the unpaved road up to “Piedra de Molino” (3348 msnm), a continuous ascent of more than 1000m of altitude in only 22km. Although I often doubted it that I would ever arrive up there I kept going up enjoying the spectacular landscape and the beginning of the sunset, realizing that it would be a cold night up there once the sun had gone down. When I finally arrived at the pass I could only celebrate for a cigarette length because it was almost dark by now and the wind was freezing.
As Analia had said there was a little house of the national park guard 1 km down the road where I would have been allowed to camp. Luckily, the guard was in and invited me to sleep inside, after some good cups of hot tea and a long and interesting chat about Argentina's National Parks in general and especially the Salta Area. He had done a bicycle trip down to Cafayate 2 weeks ago and knew the area quite well, confirming Analia's information about the bad state of the road .
Because of that I set off for (San Lorenzo) the next morning, riding through a fascinating red landscape full of cactae and dryness with still hardly any traffic around. The bad state of the road had had its influence on the back wheel by then but luckily I had also gotten some tools for the bike and could fix it without problems.
After a quiet and peaceful rest in (San Lorenzo) I decided to go on further to Cachi because it was still early. The recommended municipal camp site (with swimming pool) turned out to be an excellent spot not only to sleep but also to watch the lunar eclipse which took place that night.
The next morning I realized that I liked Cachi too much to leave soon, had delicious coffee in the square and spent long time in the museum which not only had a surprisingly big collection of archeological findings but also an interesting exhibition about precolumbian and today's pottery and kitchen gear as it is still used in the little communities around Cachi. The comparison's result: Forms and usage have hardly changed, only the quality is lacking now due to new production techniques.
By then it was noon and the bus gone, so I called Analia in order to tell her that I would need the bicycle for one more day and set off for the Piedra de Molino again. Calculating that the altitude would be stretched for 60 km this time I thought the ascent would be less demanding this time as soon as I would reach the plane again where I had turned off to (San Lorenzo) the day before.
Unfortunately, I had not thought of the wind. It caught me right in the face once I had successfully managed the ascent from Cachi to the plane. Even if they are paved, 18 km of straight road can be quite endless with no chance to escape from the wind which seemed to come straight to the pacific.
After eating my last chocolate cookie supplies in the non-existing wind shade of a huge cactus I started for the final ascent. Back to the dirt road again, still with the wind in my face and this time going up. I thought back of the German cyclist with whom I had a chat when we met on the road. Coming from the opposite direction he had warned me that I would not make it to Piedra de Molino that day (talking about kilometers, average speed and daylight hours in this typical male number-obsessed way) and I had laughed.
Going up to the pass felt more like walking this time, step by step in the lowest gear, but that is what mountain bikes are for, in the end. My secret hope that the national park guard would invite me for hot tea again was not fulfilled because he was not in, so I decided to go further down to the bottom of the Cuesta del Obispo in order to find a warmer place to sleep at.
Calculating that I had still almost an hour of daylight I started my descent from the pass after I had tugged a newspaper under my shirt (had seen this as a Tour-de-France technique on TV and never thought about ever since until that day) and used my spare pair of socks as gloves.
Unfortunately, the newspaper did not help me equalling the professional descending speed, instead I rode deeper and deeper into the dark until I only felt the road instead of seeing it. Had I ever gone up here only two days ago? I believed it only when I finally arrived at the little restaurant where I had started from and where they let me sleep on a bench outside - the least they could do after the disappointment that they had neither tea nor beer for me.
Unfortunately, the newspaper did not help me equalling the professional descending speed, instead I rode deeper and deeper into the dark until I only felt the road instead of seeing it. Had I ever gone up here only two days ago? I believed it only when I finally arrived at the little restaurant where I had started from and where they let me sleep on a bench outside - the least they could do after the disappointment that they had neither tea nor beer for me.
Next day's cycling out of the park and back to Salta again was so relaxed and beautiful that I did not envy the oncoming tour buses at all, on the contrary. Apart from the few truck and bus drivers who tried to kill me once I was back on the main road again, even this last bit was nice enough, stopping over in little villages on the way and trying to make up for all the lost calories.
A perfect trip, which would never have been possible without Analia's bike and her helpful and competent support.
Good luck for the future,
Alexandra
