5. El Bolson to Cholila

We left El Bolson by 10am on Saturday 18th January, rejoined Ruta 40 and climbed steadily out of town. After 3 km we crossed from Rio Negro province into Chubut, which extends south for another 500km. With great relief after the previous leg from Bariloche, we were now able to cycle on mostly fully paved hard shoulder and let the occasional car convoy glide by. Soon we descended into little El Hoyo, passing fruit fields in the wide valley. As we began climbing once more, so did the temperature, and a sign for fresh fruit outside one of the houses provided excellent reason to stop and rest. As we pulled up to the gate, two tiny chihuahuas shot out the house yapping and sending Robbie wheel first into the hedge. Hannah gracefully ignored them and went inside to enquire about the fruit. In their front room on a folding table were laid out trays and trays of raspberries being sorted into punnnets. The owner measured out 500 grammes for us, which we took outside to the hedge and duly gorged ourselves in the shade. Few things have ever tasted as good as those raspberries at that moment in time.

Half the punnet gone, we set off again up the hill. After 200m climbing in the blinding heat we were both exhausted and more raspberries were required. Finally we emerged at the top of the hill by a roadside cafe and the turning for Lago Epuyen and the campsite. We stopped for a quick bite of bread and cheese and then descended the steep ripio track into the valley. 5km of tarmac passing roadside craft stalls we made it to Lago Epuyen and our planned stop El Refugio del Lago. We were greeted by a young señora, who showed us around and picked a nice spot for us towards the back and the lake. There we found our neighbour to be someone we met working at Earthship Patagonia the day before, who was away with his young family for the weekend: clearly a good omen.

Refugio del Lago was undoubtedly our best campsite so far in Argentina. It was set amongst tall mixed woodland with lots of space, each pitch with a table, fire pit, electric power and light. Best of all was the short walk to its own little lake beach, which we duly investigated as soon as possible. There were kayaks to hire and a little restaurant serving grilled trout, craft beer and brownies. Before sampling the restaurant we were surprised to watch a herd of sheep and goats being shepherded through the site from one side to the other. It turned out next door was a tiny sheep and goat farm on one side and their pasture on the other. The only connecting route was through the tents, which provided great entertainment as at least two or three little sheep invariably made a break for freedom using the tents as cover whilst their long suffering sheep dog tried it’s best to round them up. Moderate chaos ensued but eventually peace was restored and we went for dinner.

That evening we heard sounds of music drifting from across the lake much like a festival as we went to sleep. At 3am we enjoyed our second late night wake up as a group of revellers pitched up with their tent mid way between ours and our Earthship neighbour before turning on music at 4. Robbie had already resorted to ear plugs at the first sign of trouble but for Earthship man the music was the final straw. Hannah heard him cry out something about loco gentes and other more colourful Spanish which seemed to do the trick and the new arrivals settled down.

Nonetheless the next morning, given the forecast for 30 degrees once more, a lie in to 9am and the potential for canoeing, it was an easy decision to spend a rest Sunday at el Refugio. After a lazy breakfast we tracked down the source of the canoes and were told to wait because it was so occupado (busy). Robbie took the opportunity to test fly his drone until eventually an elderly gent appeared with our paddles and pointed to an upturned canoe on the beach. We spent a delightful 2 hours canoeing across as much of the lake as possible, discovering a raft house on the far side, lots of reeds and trees growing out of the water. After a quick swim stop we paddles back beneath limestone cliffs and forest above on the far shore. An excellent trip all round.

We passed the heat of the day writing some more blog by the tent, and noticed an odd sound coming from a nearby tree. On closer inspection we saw parent austral parakeets flying to and from a tree hollow with the sound coming from their extremely noisy hungry chicks inside.

By 7pm it was just about cool enough to venture out of the wood and we took out our unloaded bikes for a spin to look around the neighbourhood. Heading west we saw lots of cars driving towards a lake park entry gate and followed them in to find the source of the music last night: a free annual artisan and music festival. The music was yet to start but instead they were holding 3 way children’s tug of wars, which seemed to be taken very seriously, and with long rows of artisan craft stalls. We saw the usual mate cups and horn handle knives, and also some interesting weavings and musical instruments. Excitingly, we were also able to buy a wooden spoon to replace our fairly useless silicon spatula!

Now overheating, we left the festival, passing by some traditional meat smoking, with the meat carcasses stretched out on a cross above smoking embers. Back at camp we cooked up some tuna tomato pasta washed down with a thermos flask of craft beer filled from the restaurant. Fantastic day at an end, we bedded down for as early a start as possible on Monday, destination Cholila.

Reluctantly we left Refugio del Lago by 9.45, a new record for us, and climbed southeast past the village of Epuyen to rejoin Ruta 40 for the last time, stopping briefly at a dispensa to buy bananas, cheese and ice cold apple juice. Ruta 40 was quieter than previously this Monday morning, but still we weren’t sad to bid it farewell and fork off onto RP71 after 7 km of steady climbing.

We emerged onto the Altiplano and Butch Cassidy country, which lived up to its reputation. High cliffs on our right hand side could have featured in many a western movie, just waiting for a horsebacked cowboy to appear at the top, rifle in hand. As if on queue, a blurry shape formed in the heat haze on the horizon dead ahead, and Robbie in full cowboy mode was certain it was a pair of gauchos on horseback. As the shapes became better defined it was clear they were too low to the road for horses and they started to look disappointingly like bicycles, but still an odd shape with blobs low down by the road. 2 minutes later the blobs had revealed themselves to be children, attached in recline to the front end of their parents’ bikes, with a third older child atop her own bike sandwiched in the middle. After a brief struggle in Spanish, the family of Damien and Fanny identified themselves as French and we exchanged our histories in much better English. They had cycled from Santiago down to Puerto Montt and onwards the start of the Carretera Austral as far as Villa Santa Lucia before turning east and doing the reverse of our route across into Argentina and planning to head north as far as Bolivia. With three children aged between roughly 6 and 11, we were awe struck, and suddenly felt much more confident about our ability to at least make it to the Carretera. Wishing them bon voyage, we continued south, vowing that from now on we had absolutely no excuse for complaints at any point on the trip.

20 minutes later, Robbie, in desperation for shade, aimed his bike at the shadow of a lone tree and cycled straight into some kind of cactus burr bushes from hell. His shins covered in tiny, razor sharp burrs, he wailed and moaned to the heavens at the injustice of life, pricking finger tips to remove every one, whilst Hannah cried with laughter from the burr free shade to the side.

It was a subdued ride onwards as we searched for Butch Cassidy’s hideout from the law between 1901 and 1905. We found a museo bar in his name 4 km north of Cholila at 2pm but alas it had just closed for siesta. As we snacked on some lunch outside, we were gifted some ice cold water by a kind stranger and also met a tour guide hoping to quit his job and cycle from Argentina to Brazil when he turned 40 next year, who wanted to know everything we could tell him about our bikes in 10 minutes. We duly obliged and were offered a free tour of Salter if we ever passed through.

The final ride down to Cholila was a beautiful downhill cruise, and we were soon looking for the Mapu Piuke hostel and camping. We found it 2 blocks off the centre street and met the owners who immediately provided cool glasses of water for us both. After a tour of the lovely hostel and invitation to stay in the marital suite for £25 we sadly insisted on camping in the well tended garden surrounded by intriguing little birds who seemed to somersault in mid air. Unfortunately just as we pitched the tent, a gardener started strimming the entire garden from front to back.

This immediately triggered severe hay fever in Hannah, and we went in search of food as soon as possible (after a very brief drone fly by Robbie). No restaurants seemed to be open nearby but we were able to top up our butane gas supply at a ferreteria, buy tasty bread and a jam tart from the bakery, and plums, peppers, avocado, cherry tomatoes, aubergine, corn on the cob and onions from a great little green grocers. We cooked ourselves ready made paella with onions, aubergine and peppers and rounded it off with the tart.