The Home Stretch: Leaving the Andes with a Fresh Coat of Argentinian Dust –

Finishing up his bike tour from Colombia to Santiago de Chile, Ryan Wilson rides through the arid countryside of Argentina’s San Juan Province in his latest installment from the Andes Mountains. Read on for a glimpse into the local traditions and stunning scenery that this region has to offer…

Following the handful of days it took to traverse Chile and Argentina’s highest border crossing, I found myself with roughly ten days to make my way to Santiago de Chile to finally catch my flight back to the US after spending nearly 10 months riding from Colombia.

I was torn. I was excited to eventually head for a trip home before heading toward new and exciting regions of Europe and Asia, but Argentina’s vast arid landscape and laid-back village vibe were really drawing me in, just as they did on my first trip here back in 2017. If I didn’t already have non-refundable tickets booked, I might still be cruising through the Andes somewhere as I write this.

The Road to Jachál

From the windswept village of Rodeo, I set off with Paul and Hera for one last day of riding together before they’d make their way north toward Bolivia and Peru, and I’d split to the south. Trying to beat the heat and the inevitable headwind, we left early to stunning views of Lago Cuesta Del Viento, with layers of hills slowly crescendoing toward distant snow-capped peaks that we crossed just 36 hours prior.

Continuing East, the walls suddenly closed in as we crossed through the rugged Jáchal River Gorge. Sun-soaked hills and cliffs surrounded every bend of the road as it dove deeper toward the Argentinian lowlands. San José de Jáchal was our aim for the day.

Like many Argentinian villages, the streets of Jáchal were post-apocalypticly devoid of activity during the midday siesta. With temps soaring up around the mid-90s (mid-30s Celsius) on a daily basis this time of year, this usually amounts to folks napping with the fan blasting at their face and just avoiding the sun altogether. It’s not uncommon to see all shops and restaurants closed throughout the afternoon, and only a few dogs wandering around the streets.

Paul and Hera set off the next day to continue their journey north. At the same time, I met up with another pair of northbound riders, Tom and Sarah, for a Tumbleweed Prospector owners club meeting as they were preparing to head toward some remote Puna de Atacama goodness, which had me just a bit jealous as I’d be heading down a paved highway (albeit a scenic and quiet highway) for the next couple of days.

The boom in popularity of dirt road bike touring over the last handful of years combined with social media connecting the community has made for a lot more opportunities to cross paths with like-minded people while out on a tour, and that’s a great thing, in my book. It’s nice to be able to share routes and experiences via the interwebs but having that in-person from a village in the Andes makes it even more valuable.

Into the Depths of the Lowlands

I left Jachál bright and early the next morning with 100km over straight and flat riding on the menu for the day, a rarity for routes that I tend to pick on this continent. How much I would enjoy it would depend largely on if the wind gods were merciful, because there’s no hiding out here. I was heading in a straight line all day, so if I got unlucky it was going to be painful.

There was one spot to resupply food and water before I’d turn off the road toward the mountains, so my idea was to camp out nearby, that way I could leave the following morning fully stocked on supplies. It may be a highway, but it’s still the desert, which meant I’d have to keep a close eye on my supplies as most seasonal streams were dry this late into summer.

A gentle breeze kicked up early from the south-east, but it wasn’t enough to be day-ruining. I put my head down and dialed up some Hermanos Guitiérrez to accompany the arid landscape and pedaled my way 100km down the road with little more than 60 seconds of stopped time, determined to take advantage of every moment that I was spared the soul-crushing gale this region is famous for.

I scoped out an abandoned structure to camp in for the night but in the end, I chose to be exposed to the elements rather than deal with an ant infestation. I had a previous tent’s floor get absolutely destroyed by a million little ant holes not too far from here back in 2018, so I’m not trying to make that mistake twice.

Even nights are sweltering here. I was sweating just laying on top of my sleeping bag liner on my sleeping pad. I was begging for that afternoon breeze to come back at this point, but it never materialized. It’s moments like this when you wish you didn’t have that R-value pad radiating your own body heat back at you.

La Difunta Correa

A restless night in the tent ended early and I was excited to get climbing again, if only to get a little relief from the harsh heat of the valley. That cool(ish) mountain air dangling like a carrot on a stick at the top of the pass.

I’d packed about 7 liters of water, giving enough for a day and a half of riding and camping. The only potential water sources on the route would be the occasional Argentinian roadside “Difunta Correa” shrines. Legend has it a local woman was crossing the desert in the 1800s with her baby when she ran out of supplies and died, while her child miraculously survived. For that, it is tradition for Argentines to leave bottles of water at these shrines to pay their respects. You can find these all over Argentina, but the original incident happened in this very province, just to the east.

And while I’ve seen other cyclists drink this water, I’ll go ahead and say that I’d rather carry a few extra kilos to begin with than play Russian roulette with a mystery roadside bottle that’s been baking in the sun for eons.

At The Foot of the Andes

Leaving the aptly named “Quebrada de los Ratones” after a night of fending off rodents from trying to dig into my panniers, the views started opening up again, with 5000m peaks dotting the ridge in the distance and painted hills tucked into the lower slopes. Many cyclists find this region to be a bit monotonous relative to many other parts of the Andes, but these big open valleys and desert features that go for days are right up my alley.

The further south I got, the more the western mountains grew. I’d been banking on re-upping my water from a small spring before taking a detour up along a ridge, but when I arrived at the spring in the late afternoon it was bone dry. With no Difunta Correa around to save me, and not enough in my bottles to camp and finish riding the next day, I was forced to push on along the most direct route for another 60km.

Night riding into a headwind it was, but at least I caught a great sunset on the way to the next town.

Uspallata, We Have a Problem

I was bummed I didn’t get a chance to head up into the hills as I planned on my longer route which followed a section of Taneli Roininen’s “Cerros de Mendoza” route so I drew up a modified overnighter loop to hit some parts of that along with a couple of other riverbed tracks that looked interesting. No doubt this zone is filled to the brim with route possibilities for folks (like me) who are into that kinda thing.

Of course, with only about 3 days left worth of riding on the continent, as soon as I got halfway up the climb, the sidewall of my tire and the bead exploded, leaving a 3” gash. This was when I came face to face with both the biggest pro and con of touring with tire inserts, at least with my particular setup.

PRO: I could limp back to town with zero air in my tire without damaging my carbon rim! A hell of a feature.
CON: Getting these tires off was physically impossible, so I had to cut the tire down the tread just to get it unmounted.

Now, the tire was essentially trash already, with such a huge tear at the bead, however, since this was my first foray into tire inserts, I wanted to treat it like any normal situation where I might have to remove and reinstall a tire on the side of the road somewhere without destroying it in the process. Here, even with 3 sets of hands at a bike shop and access to every tip and trick YouTube could muster, nothing was getting that bead unseated.

This tire/rim combo is already extremely tight, so that certainly contributes to this issue with my setup. Without the insert I quite like this as it means I can easily re-seat the tubeless tire with only my mini Lezyne pump. No hunting for a compressor or floor pump required. No switching to a tube just because I don’t have access to these things.

I was using a Rimpact EDH insert, which I really enjoyed the ride quality and it saved me from rim damage and/or snakebite punctures more than a couple of times since I installed them in Peru, but needless to say, this experience soured me on the idea of touring with inserts, at least with my specific rim/tire combo.

Third Time’s the Charm

Thankfully, I was carrying a spare tire, so I ditched the insert and rode back up into the hills for a night in the (apparently) puma-filled canyons above Uspallata. At least that’s what a local man on a motorcycle told me when he found me setting up my tent near the ridge, with my first view toward the tallest mountain in the Western Hemisphere, Aconcagua (6,961m/22,837ft).

Descending through the canyons in the morning with that man’s words echoing in my head had me on high alert, scanning the bushes and cliffsides for big kitty cats, but all I found were a couple of foxes and mineral-rich hills.

Heading for the Chilean border, it was hard to believe that another long journey through South America was coming to a close. I didn’t end it in Ushuaia this time like the last one, but I managed to make it a couple thousand more kilometers than I originally had planned when I flew into Colombia.

This continent has become a home away from home for me. Every country has its unique landscapes, traditions, food, culture, and mannerisms. There are plenty of amazing places to ride a bike in the world, but not many at the scale that the Andes offer. With any luck, it won’t be my last trip through these magical lands.