Suddenly, around the next corner, the clouds just rolled into the side of the mountain and engulfed me. Visibility was down to about 15 inches and the condensation on the visor halved that. Fortunately I couldn’t see the precipitous fall to the valley below, the gaps in the safety barriers, the rows of little crosses dedicated to the ones they found, the oil/rubber slicks glistening on the wet asphalt, the loose gravel on the corners, the cops, the trip wires, the hit men, the imagination going wild… The road up had been sweet, cool curves and mega views back down to the flat lands, classic badlands, a boringly straight 520 odd kms from Mendoza to Mina Clavel yesterday. The days ride only excited by a session with the local cops at some forgettable pueblo on the
... read more