Well, it has been a while
Welcome back, my dear… I don’t know, 12, 57, 114, 247 readers? I guess we’ll never know.
Today we’re covering the last two weeks of cycling through Argentina — starting with leaving Salta. Salta was an amazing place, but, as funny as it is, following Google’s bike directions eventually led us here.
Day 1 out of Salta: Avg temp: 33°C. Almost 6 hours on the bike — great scenery but crazy hot.
Drank 4 liters of water, an iced latte, 1x Pomelo (0.5L), 1x Pomelo-Orange (0.5L), 0.75L apple juice, and 0.5L Sprite. Basically, I was half human, half liquid by the end of the day.
Met the boys who are doing a circuit from Salta — it was amazing having a 30-minute conversation in Spanish. Super happy for the boyz getting out there and biking.
Later on, we arrived in the town of Cafayate — a proper wine town. So naturally, we went for a few tastings. We met a couple of older folks who were genuinely excited to see us and curious about the trip. At the end of the conversation, they said, “Que tengan la vida hermosa.” I felt like that’s just such a beautiful thing to say to someone — it sounded so genuine, so effortlessly heartfelt.
Wind
Wind, wind, wind. It’s become the main character of our days. We’ll have to start at 6 a.m. now just to dodge those 40+ km/h gusts. It’s nasty, it’s exhausting — I swear I spent the entire day thinking only about the wind and how it would mess with me. It’s like being in a race you already know you’re going to lose. I need mental tips for that.
Oh, and somewhere along the way, I saw this 7- or 8-year-old kid driving a scooter with an even younger kid sitting at the back. No helmets, of course. Argentina just keeps on delivering.
Because of the heat and the crazy winds that follow, I’m sick, and cycling has become tough. On top of that, it’s just boring right now — we’re deep in the Argentinian plains. The weather’s calm in the morning, but by 11 or 12 a.m., the wind picks up, and that’s it — we’re screwed.
Being sick just makes everything harder. I feel slower than usual, mentally foggy, and the days feel never-ending. Cycling feels boring, and I just can’t wait to move past this section as soon as possible. We’re on Route 40 now — it’s a pretty popular route for motorbikes — and honestly, I’m kind of jealous of the riders passing by. Though, I’ve noticed a lot of them are a bit on the heavier side, so maybe that’s part of why they choose motorbikes. Still, if I could switch to an e-bike or a motorbike right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat — no hesitation.
So, we decided to skip the next 500 kilometers of endless flatlands and head straight to Mendoza — a place where we can actually remember what joy feels like. The whole point of this trip is to enjoy it, and being sick while cycling through windy plains definitely doesn’t fit that definition. We’ve struggled enough, and I think it’s fair to say it was time to jump ahead a bit — to get back to the good part, to the kind of riding that makes us feel alive again.
Mendoza and post Mendoza
Honestly, I just want to brag a little. In Mendoza, we joined a Spanish walking tour — two full hours, all in Spanish — and I understood about 90% of it. I was so damn happy. Then, when we left Mendoza, we visited an olive oil bodega and a winery, both also fully in Spanish, and I still managed to follow almost everything. It feels like the language is finally clicking — like I’m learning more than I ever expected just by being here.
So, we finally left Mendoza after a few days of relaxing and getting our bikes fixed/cleanes. Juan (the bike mechanic) did a great job — he actually took the bikes completely apart, cleaned everything and rebuilt them from the ground up. Of course, it took him a day longer than he said, but that’s just the Argentinian lifestyle — and bike mechanics in general. Things take a little longer than you expect, but it is what it is.
Leaving, we went to an olive oil bodega and a winery, as mentioned prior. Super nice places, but I feel like those activities are more for when I’m 40, 50, 60. For now, I’m more into the active lifestyle. The vibe there was also different — filled with people from Buenos Aires, a totally different attitude compared to the small wineries we visited up north near Salta and Cafayate.
Finally, I feel healthy again, no more worrying about that, which makes me really excited for what’s ahead. And today, seeing the mountains again — that was such a good feeling. We’re staying tonight at a small finca, and they happen to be having a kid’s birthday party. So yeah, we’re basically crashing it. And honestly, it’s super fun.
The journey continuous
The next couple of days were just good, relatively simple biking — longer distances but about the same hours we’re used to. We got some nice views, rode along a river, and chatted with a few locals who shared their mate with us (it was our first mate experience) and told us about their lives. They seemed super chill. It’s honestly great to see that zest for life here in Argentina. Even though people are hit hard by inflation, they still find ways to enjoy life — a big contrast compared to the countries we passed through up north.
Had to fix the bike the day after, and the day instantly felt so much better — great views, more of that “in the moment” feeling.
The wind picked up in the last 5 km with gusts over 55 km/h, so we decided to stay in El Sosneado — a town with a population of 91 back in 2001 (yep, that’s the latest data on Wikipedia, nobody really cared to check after, I guess).
We stayed with a local family who offered us either a cabaña for 20,000 ARS (about €12) per person or a free camping spot outside. Clearly chose the tent.
Had ramen and beer for dinner — honestly, my best meals are always mood-driven, never in restaurants. Being in the middle of nowhere, eating ramen, and drinking a cold beer we got from a tiny despensa (shop) (maybe 5 square meters total) felt perfect :)))
P.S. when I say ramen I mean instant ramen, of course.
Next day was kind of split into two main parts — getting to the town of Malargüe, and then continuing afterward.
The first part was about 50k, pretty flat. The first hour felt windy, and I thought, oh no, if it stays like this for the next 6–7 hours, this is going to be rough. But it turned out fine — we did 50k in about 2.5 hours, a smooth and easy ride. Once in town, we grabbed some really good coffee — I went for an espresso tonic, which I was super happy about. Doesn’t happen that often out here.
We met this guy, Fuji, from Japan. He’s been traveling for about a year and a half, started in Alaska, and is now heading south like us. He has been biking for 8 years now. Super chill guy. It was just nice meeting someone going the same direction — we haven’t had that in a while.
After town, we picked up some stuff for burgers for dinner and continued for another 60k — slightly uphill at first, then the last 20k downhill.
Since leaving Mendoza a few days ago, I’d been hearing a squeaking sound coming from my front wheel. I thought it might be because I lost a bolt from the thru-axle, so I stopped for half an hour to check it, but couldn’t fix it. Later at the campsite, I tried again and realized it might actually be the brake pads. I ended up watching a YouTube video on how to align them and did it myself — and it seems to be working! If it holds, that’s honestly the most I’ve ever done mechanically on a bike, so it feels like a real milestone for me.
We also met Johnny — he’s been cycling from the Arctic in Canada, heading south as part of a world tour. His plan is to do it over four years and cross most continents. It’s wild. For him, it’s clearly a lifestyle. For me, at least for now, it still feels like a trip — and I kind of prefer it that way.
That night pushed my patience to the limit. There are always animals around when you camp near villages — distant roosters that wake you, but usually it’s bearable. This time, though, there was a rooster that started crowing at 4 a.m., every five minutes, sounding like it was only 5–10 metres from our tent. I couldn’t fall asleep properly — dozing off, waking up, dozing off again. I was so annoyed I actually went out to try to find it and move it away, but couldn’t. I kept hearing it, over and over. I couldn’t believe how much it irritated me and how anxious it made me feel. Those tiny gaps between its crows were the only moments I managed to sleep.
Gravel
A different kind of day was waiting for us. We knew there was a big gravel section coming up — but 80 kilometers of bumpy road really tested my mental limits. I was just happy to get it over with and end the day in a small town to chill. My legs started hurting again after awhile.
When I say town, it’s really just a place with maybe 100 people. But they had something rare — a hot shower for cyclists, a bathroom, and a place to pitch the tent. There was even a barbecue setup, which we didn’t use, but it still felt like a small luxury after a rough day.
It’s funny — every time we cook, some local animals always show up. Cats, dogs, you name it — all hoping to get a taste of whatever we’re making. And honestly, their behavior kind of decides who gets what. This time, even though the cat was super persistent, staring us down while we opened the tuna can, the dog got it all (by simply pushing the cat away). Bigger size wins, I guess. That’s just how nature works.
After rough rocky gravel section — we decided to do a recovery day. So we only cycled for about three and a half hours. Funny to call that a “recovery day,” but that’s just how things have shifted — you still put in the effort, just not too hard. I was happy with that pace.
Final day
Final day of the stretch almost broke me. I knew the whole day would be against the wind — but honestly, saying “hats off” to the Argentinian wind doesn’t even come close. It’s not the terrain, not the gravel or the paved road, not even the elevation gain. If I have to climb 1,000 or 1,500 meters, I can do it. I’ll take my time. But the wind — the wind just messes with your head.
Physically, you can still move, but mentally it’s draining. Every gust feels like it takes a bit of your energy with it. It’s not that you can’t pedal — it’s that you start questioning why you’re even doing it. Today it was so bad that on a 5% uphill, on a paved road, I had to jump off and push my bike. It just made more sense to walk half a kilometer than to fight it.
Those five hours felt like the longest five hours I’ve ever spent on a bike. I’m just glad it’s over.
Pretty sure I ripped a hundred snot rockets today because of the wind. If you don’t know what that is — look it up. Also known as “lung butter.”
Overall thoughts
1. I’d like to start my overall thoughts with the Argentinian siesta. The siesta can last anywhere from 1 to 5 p.m. — or sometimes even from 3 to 8 p.m. That’s literally four or five hours where everything is shut down. So if you’re unlucky, you’re unlucky — you just wait.
What’s even funnier is how late some cafés open — 5, 6, even 7 p.m. It’s crazy how much caffeine people here drink later in the day.
2. Argentinians love trucks. You see Peugeot, Fiat, and Volkswagen trucks everywhere. And seriously — when was the last time you saw a Fiat truck? But what’s even cooler is how many old American ones are still running — Fords and Chevrolets from the 1980s, for example. They keep them alive and use them daily.
Gas is around $1 per liter, so it’s not exactly cheap, but still — those trucks must burn through a ton of fuel.
3. Lastly, it feels strange being in the second part of the trip. In a way, you start counting the time and distances, realizing that the end is slowly approaching. But at the same time, the further I go, the more I enjoy it. Bike touring — or bikepacking — is definitely something that will stay in my life in one form or another.
This trip has given me a clear sense of what I like and what I don’t, and I feel like from here on, it’s only going to get better.
Stats
Stats (13 out of 16 days of cycling)
1,348 km | 65 h 46 m | 8,397 m gain
Daily Averages
104 km | 5 h 3 m | 646 m gain