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I arrived in Putre Chile on my way towards the sea. The trip is almost done. I hope to reach the coast and then ride south for a few days. Here is the brief synopsis so far:
Paying the 100 dollar reciprocity fee to enter the country, leaving the airport in the fog, climbing 800 meters the first day, descending smoke filled valleys to the sea, eating empanadas on the road side, sleeping on a messy beach, meeting the owner of a hacienda and sleeping next to his private bull ring, riding north along the panamerican highway and being trapped on both sides by barbed wire fence, getting a ride with an olive farmer to La Serena, a first class overnight bus ticket to Anotfagasta, climbing from the sea side into the Atacama desert, a crazy women in the desert stopping all the traffice and demanding water, climbing each day until 3400m then a descent to San Pedro de Atacama, riding through the valley of the moon and the valley of death, meeting other cyclists in San Pedro, watching the final match of the world cup, climbing a volcano by foot to 5600m, climbing to the Bolivian border, leaving pavement, colored lakes and wonderful panoramas in a Bolvian national park, altitude sickness cycling at 4900m, sleeping in a geyser field, a long day searching for a hidden town over extremely rough roads, a cycling companions broken rear hub, try to get a lift on a four jeeps simultaneously in French, getting a ride to Uyuni, waiting for a companion's replacement wheel to arrive from La Paz by bus, pizza restaurants full of tourists, the wheel arrives and the companions are sick, cycling solo onwards, crossing the salt flat half cold and half hot, cycling north to reach the border, dinner, breakfast and a room for 3 dollars, guessing the correct track north, riding on single track through llama pasture, sleeping in the mayor's office, crossing 30 rivers and only 3 bridges, pushing through lots and lots of mud, a town surrounded by streams and mud, flooded tracks, carrying my bike accross sand dunes, losing the track in a sand storm, carry the bike through the brush for hours hoping to find a road, crossing a river knee deep with flowing ice in the morning, crossing the border with a strong headwind and blowing dust, finding no food at the border, entering a series of national parks with no traffic, fighting a strong and cold headwind for a week, seeing noone in the daytime and waking to a convoy of trucks dirven by smugglers in the middle of night, crossing the border back to Bolivia, climbing back to Chile, and then cycling around a minefield, a hot spring with aqua blue water in front of a snow covered volcano, cooking dinner with a park ranger, being passed by hundreds of mining trucks each creating a cloud of dust, finally reaching pavement, climbing up and down at the end of the day, eating at a restaurant with a chef named Matilde, climbing then descending into the town or Putre.
Tomorrow I should get near the coast. It is a long climb out of here and then a longer descent to the panamerican highway along the coast. I hope to travel south to the town of Iquique and take a bus back directly to the airport from there.
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