on the road again...........

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I decided to stop cycling in Potosi, Bolivia due to family reasons. Friends and my wife have supported me to continue but we have a boy who is suffering from my absence. At this time, my family should had been here in Bolivia, travelling together. and then continue to cycle up north to the finish after the wet season. But plans were not meant to be. And it's sad because it's my only chance to cycle the Andes. But there will more bike adventures more to come. I am backpacking for a month, and soon I must be Bogota and fly to Bangkok on March 01. Thanks for being with for those glorius 4 months.

• The wind was simply brutal. We could not go over 6kph on flat pavement. Then 5kph. For hours we battled with wind I had never felt before. Brian tried to push as hard as he could to let me stay in his draft. Even so, I got blown to the side of the road many times. At one point, we were both in the lowest gear and could barely move above 3kph. Every hour or so, we would find a guard rail where we could duck behind the embankment for a bit of shelter from the wind. But every time we stopped, it got harder and harder to start.

  About 28km after we got on the paved road, we came to a detour where traffic was directed left to a ripio. "No way." said Brian. "There is no way I'll ride ripio with this xxxxing wind." We knew it was paved all the way to Calafate, so, we pushed across the road barrier and onto the closed road.

  At this point, the wind was so bad that I had to use my brakes to stop the bike from flying down-wind when I stopped. Riding was pretty much sheer torture. Less than 10k on the closed road, we saw another guard rail and stopped for a break. This time, neither of us wanted to move anymore. Even it was not even 4pm. The wind had totally consumed us. Yan & Brian

• 17/9/05 – Distance 120km, ride time 8:13 Average 14.5 very hard wind 80-100kph lifted off bike Angela pushing bike in ditch next to road.
  Silas & Angela

• We are optimistic: the track is good for a change. But who cares with this wind? After 18 km in six hours, we reach the gate of the National Park and are completely exhausted. The wind forced us to push the bikes, or if hitting us from the side, we simply were thrown over. We try to build up the tent behind a wooden shed near the entrance gate. Even though the area is fenced off with high walls, the wind still is strong enough to rip the tent including four pegs from the ground. Before we can get hold of our tent again, two poles are broken and the nylon channels for the stakes are ripped open. No cooking, but sewing... How are things going to be tomorrow?? – our daily question- Andy & Waltraud

• At 10:00 AM the wind increases. With the wind blowing in our face we (Tore, Iris is in his slipstream) are sometimes only able to cycle in our lowest gear. That means 5 km/h on a flat road!!! A bit later the wind comes from the side. We ride on the edge of the road. Wham..., a blast of wind pushes Tore to the other side of the road. He can just stop before ending in the gutter beside the road. He pushes his bike back to the other side of the road and tries to start cycling again. Iris & Tore

•  ..wake up to find my nightmare come true. The wind is obscene. I wearily pack my bags and head outside. It is only 16 km to the next rest stop, the lone Hotel Las Horquetas, and then 8 km beyond that the road turns due north (for 200 km of crosswind). I make it 500 meters upwind before a gust of wind blows me and my bike backwards! This happens several times. I estimate that there are frequent gusts of wind well over 100 km per hour. During several of these gusts, I and my bike are blown over by the wind while I am standing beside the bike. I walk my bike 1.5 km to the shelter of a ditch and climb inside to pray for the wind to subside. I wait for one hour. The wind doesn´t subside and doesn´t appear to want to do so. I come to the epiphany that I would rather spend my limited amount of vacation time biking bikable roads and climbing climbable mountains rather than waiting in ditches for four or five more days on the side of Route 40. I am a beaten man and I feel miserable, but at the moment believe that by passing quickly through the rest of Route 40, I will have more time for more fun activities. It is hard for me to admit that deep down I am truly a creature of comfort. After eight kilometers walking my bike upwind (about three hours), I finally get a ride in a 1961 Mercedes bus RV owned by three Argentinian couples. They feed me endless cups of mate and try to convince me that my failure is not unreasonable.
  Stephen