Letter 13
San Pedro de Atacama 28.07.02
Officina de Chacabuco - Chuquicamata 138.92 km
It's been a tolerable night. This extra matress makes the night not
comfortable but bearable. It's 5 a.m. but I have had my 8 hours, so
I'm just waiting for the sunrise, so I can get on.
11 degr. inside, so it's been a warm night. It's not darker than I can
distinguish most things, but to write or look at my watch I need
light. Yesterday I crossed a minor mountain ridge and entered a
plateau with no outlet to the sea. That's what the days incidents tell.
But at sunrise the wind starts blowing and the dish washing feel
colder than the other day when it was -6 degr.
It's hard to take down the tent because of the wind. In the lack of
other helpers I get use of some rocks - and succeed. The direction of
the wind has changed and I'm not doing a fair speed, but within short
the wind lowers and the heat comes back like yesterday. The altimeter
says 1490 m at 11 o'clock which tells about an inclining landscape.
That there's no outlet to the sea can be seen from these countless 'officina's.
A 'officina' seems to be an extraction spot, that's been abandoned.
It's salt that has been extracted, the water has gathered in the
lowest parts, has evaporated and the salt's been left. Maybe it rained
more often then, probably, it's been huge quantities as information
one place tells: From 1912-13 extraction of 50.000 tonnes a year. When
the mine was empty the town was abandoned and what's left are those
ghost towns or 'officina's. In some cases real town with churchyard
and all.
 |
 |
| If it says "officina" in the map.... | ....it's not a usual town |
I arrive at Sierra Gorda at 12 and have a look at the watch, is it
time for 'buena dia' or 'buena tardes'? The hand is just past, so it's
the latter. But none of the two small shops by the name 'supermercado'
have bananas. I didn't want to brings them all the way from
Antofagasta yesterday, now I have none. I have to make due of
chocolate as a snack.
Sierra Gorda lies at the entrance to a new plateau, that looks even
more bare and desserted than the last one. There isn't much more than
one street, but there has to be a town hall, I guess, the name of the
town is the same as for the entire county in which are only two town,
which I've now both seen. The rest are 'minas' or 'plantas'. In the
mines the minerals are excavated, while they in the plants are
premanufactured.
That has been seen for some time by the truck transports: 'Acido
Sulfurico - Pericoloso'. The trains on the railway track that has
followed the road are bringing the same. It's stopped a bit outside
Sierra Gorda, in the middle of nowhere. The only building to be seen
is one of these tanks up in the air on long legs, but a tank truck
leaving gives the explanation: here the sulphur acid is being reloaded
to trucks.
The road seems to be going on forever towards the foot of a distant
mountain. First I estimate the distance to 30 km, but after the first
5 I reestimate to 20 km. I wish there were a bus shelter shadowing the
burning sun, so I can write a little, but there's nothing to be seen
except bare land. Eventually appears a "lay-by". It's two barrels for
trash and a third one that in some way keeps two small trees alive.
They are not leaving much shadow but behind the watertank I manage to
squeeze myself down to the gravel and have some "air".
The last hour has been hard. We're inclining steadily, the head wind
comes and goes and the landscape don't offer much variation at this
speed. A mobile derrick was one. Scattered around the area gatherings
of sacks shows where they've been drilling. A huge white water
reservoir and some high voltage wires, that's all there is to it. The
only positive is that my estimate of the distance seems to fit. I've
done 21 km and the mountains are at my level now. But I'm not sure for
there are still mountains in the background, but they "grew up" while
I climbed the gradient. I've had to stand up with the bike between my
legs, nothing to put it up against and no shadow.
 |
 |
| A meeting in the dessert | The sulphur acid train |
I need some lunch. Don't feel like tuna. Takes too long too. I
remember the blackberry marmelade. But where? As sent from heaven
appears one of these chapels at the roadside. For once of a reasonable
size. Maybe some shadow?
It's built from three coherent walls. Two meters high. The outer ones
each form an angle of 120 degr. to the middle wall and in these angles
are to diminutive benches. When I sit down on the left one and squeeze
against the wall I'm in the shadows. The wall also protect me from the
wind and on top of the white painted steel tube cross the flag is
straightened out! In your death your giving shadow and shelter. I too
will now remember thee, León.
More gradients with 11 km/h, that's not what I looked forward to today.
I feel like I'm crawling, after a gradient the wind comes from the
side and using my slanting body as a sail, I end up in the big gear
again. Only to meet another gradient. More crawling, but now I have to
be near to the top and then - at my next step comes the reward. Which
makes all the efforts worth it. Both yesterday and today. Out of the
mist in the distance rise two huge snowcapped twin vulcanos. And
to the right a somewhat lower ridge and then another twin peak, a
lower ridge and a more spiky top while the rest disappears to the
south. If it wasn't because I'd already lost my breath on the gradient
I would havee now.
Now I can only gape at it. This is not to be photographed, it can't be
put on paper. In this dream view is all the hard work of the day
hidden, every step every effort. This I'll never forget.
After this enliven moment I roll on. The road seems to go straight but
actually it climbs a bit more so I reach 2240 m. At a moment there is
a deep roar from an explosion to the left, and when I look in that
direction, the smoke cloud is already hanging above the spot. It has
been spreading in the 10-15 seconds that went by before the sound
reached me. Within long Calama can be seen in the distance and from
the former km statements I reckon 8 km. Much to my surprise comes a
sign saying 17 km. What's been in my mind the whole day has been not
only to reach Calama, but also do the 16 km, which is the further
distance to Chuquicamata, because the tour starts at 8.30 from
somewhere in town. Chuquicamata isn't just a mine, it's also a town.
In the end the road declines and I force my speed. If I shall do 33 km
before 6 p.m. I have to be quick. As usual the shoulder getss worse
and worse as we get nearer to the town. It has been bad today and
there are big holes between it and the road for long stretches, so
it's hard to get forwards and backwards. As there's not much traffic I
roll in the road and move right whenever someone is coming from behind.
Close to Calama I nearly have an acccident. For the moment I carry one
of the new bags in front. That's bad. They must be intended for the
back for they are hanging too low, with the result that they can be
lifted off by a high edge.
Besides the rubber band that should keep them fastened has been fixed
3 times, but if the bag is lifted off it will break. That hasn't
happend yet but I've removed it without much difference.
When a big lorry suddenly appears without me hearing it I turn right
down in a pothole where the bag comes off and slides along the road,
but without interfering with the bike. Now I should be warned and I
was - but. When I get to the entrance for Calama, the road to Chuqui
turns off and a motorway starts just like expected from the map. 8 km
to Chuqui I am soon told by a sign. Great, I'll soon be there. But a
little later something happens to the road, from 2 lanes and a
shoulder in each direction, comes now 1 lane and a shoulder that is
nearly not existing in each direction. A car turns up from behind and
probably as a result of a long days tirering work I misjudge the
situation and go right into a pothole I should NOT have entered. The
bag comes off, falls to the ground, hits the right pedal which means
that the bikes total weight including me tumbles to the left. Exactly
what happens I don't remember. I think I bring my leg down because I
have a notion of ALMOST making it, but only almost. The bike and I go
down to the asphalt
where I push off with my left hand and hammer down my right one,
wounds the knee like hell and lie there.
The car that made me turn must have passed the same moment for there's
no danger at all and I only stumble to the edge of the road. I try to
get up but it hurts and I lie down a while. A car in the opposite
direction stops to see what's happened, but I wave it on and get to my
feet. When I have raised the bike and with bleeding finger and hurting
knee want to go on there is an unknown sound and when I have the bike
positioned against something I realize the disaster. One of the hooks
on the left rear pannier is simply broken.
I move it around until it's possible to go on with only one hook and
this way I sneak on afraid that the other hook will break too. If the
road was bad before it now turns indescribable. There is no doubt I
can't go on the road. For 2 km I sneak along in the gravel, having to
drag
the bike for some parts. Then I reach the road that must be the
motorway in the map to Chuqui. But how was I to know about this, well
maybe if I still had my Lonely Planet Chile but... And if I still had
my front panniers it wouldn't have.... a.s.o. Had I gone through
Calama which would have been easier... a.s.o. Well, done is done. Go
on. Now the road is at least fine.
I go towards Chuqui. The road inclines. At a long distance I see some
buildings below some piles. That must be the town. I can within long,
and it's 6 p.m., see some red lights up to the left. It looks like
street lights. It's far away. When I've gone for I don't know how
long, I realize that thats' where I'm going. It's damned long to go.
And steep. It grows dark and I turn on the rear light. For the next
hour I do nothing but fight my way upwards in smaller and smaller
gear. I stop to fill spare water to the bottles and swallow a block of
chocolate. I felt exhausted and dehydrated, now I'm also injured and
it gets steeper and steeper. The lights don't seem to get nearer. All
distance statements must have been false. Maybe the ring road was 8
km, so I now have started the 16 last? Never before have I on this
trip set my teeth to this extent. Last time I can distinguish the
altimeter it says 2440 m, the highest point until now. Afterwards I
can't recall much from this hour but at last the lights have come to a
distance of maybe 500 m's. I havee to change to a smaller gear once
again, it must be the smallest, I don't know. And in this way I end up
rolling in beneath the orange street lights and stop to evaluate the
situation. I'VE DONE IT. Before I've done anything a 'carabinero'
comes to me. He has a shelter in the middle between the lanes. If I'm
going on the tour tomorrow? Yes. There are no lodges in town. No
residenciales, no hotels. Nothing. What to do? My head is empty. Empty
for words. Especially spanish ones. I point at the tent and say. 'carpa
pero oscuro', which I think means: tent but dark. Where and how can I
rise my tent? When I've put myself together and am going to ask for a
place he's had an idea. At the right of the road is a small
eight-edged police house. He'll have to call... A moment later all is
OK. I can sleep there. There's electrical light, linoleum floor and a
sort of stone table at 3 sides. It's around 16 m2. There's room for
the bike too. Further there's a toilet and a sink, but no bulb, but
what are my lights for? His namee is Jorge. I beat happy his shoulder
and thanks him a lot. Later I walk to him with a cup of coffee and my
last block of chocolate that has melted a little but that doesn't
matter.
He returns the cup but none of the chocolate, sorry, I'd been looking
forward to it.
I have already figured out several rescue plans. Vaude isn't Vaude for
nothing. In this situation the whole handle including locking
mechanism can be replaced, but that will havee to wait for my return
home, so I have to use another.
Now it's time for bed. It's 9.10 p.m. and the altimeter is at 2635 m.
Then I'm in the sleeping bag. Jorge's successor thinks that the bike
can stay while I'm on the tour tomorrow. He'll tell the next one.
Goodnight. The police is watching over me.