Ushuaia - The Adventures continue...

There we were, outside a supermarket.

Eating lunch by the trolley ramp. Again.

We’d decided we woukd have a new mission. We decided our option was to head east to the coast. Find wild places, to camp.

No rush.

We rode the uphill out of Ushuaia, retracing our pedal strokes.

And of course my friend,headwind, joined us.

We ground our way up until we got to Rio Olivia where we had spotted a picnic spot near a river on our way into Ushuaia.

We dropped down to lush green river flats dotted with a few trees and bushes. After roaming around we picked a spot by the river tucked between bushes, looking up at spectacular ruggered mountains. It was peaceful. It was nature. It was us.

It poured, all night and all morning.

The river was rising as the rain drummed down.

After the safety inspection team us, assessed our camping position it was decided to relocate further back from the river. There was no imminent risk but hey better safe than sorry right!

Then we hid again in our yellow protection unit...our tent.

Podcast. Rain. Stretch. Rain. Snack. Rain....repeat.

Sometimes adventure looks like staying still.

We meant to turn east, honest.

Then we met two French riders

“Abandoned cabinas, by a lake” they said. This was not the first time see had been told of this place. I now had serious FOMO.

So we headed back north, further

up the hill we went.

We stopped from a time to inspect Beaver dams spread below us like mad engineering projects.

Beavers are Argentina’s equivalent of our possums in New Zealand. They are a introduced species, a pest that desecrates native bush.

Once we reached the lookout with amazing views of Lake Escondido, far below us. This lake was surrounded by bush and framed with spectacular mountains.

There was an old dirt road, pot holed and rutty, as we discovered, zig zagging down to the lake. Bring it on baby! Down the old road we flew, I'd been missing single track mountain biking. And what impressed me was my hun, who just over a year ago hadn't ridden a bike in over 15 years. There she was hooning down this steep dirt road like she owned it.

With biggy silly grins on our faces we reached the lake and the infamous cabinas.

Broken. Collapsed. In disarray. But there was one standing out from the rest. Obviously people have been giving this one a little love. Obviously on entering it was

A bikepacker refuge.

Walls covered in names and stickers — the only part of the bikepacking culture I don’t love.

We shared it with a quiet Argentinian bloke, a man of few words.

With four walls and a roof, a wood fire and, lake views this was, with out a doubt, for us, a five-star resort.

Our cabin buddy vanished early. We had the place to ourselves, we'll sort of.

We have a new mate. Blacky. A ferret.

Its bsessed with our food bag, that we have hanging from the porch railing.

Its been our morning entertainment watching Blacky try hard to infiltrate our food bag only to falling off the porch, climb back up and trying again and again.....and again

Later, he joined me for lunch, jumping up on our lunch log by the lake, hovering for crumbs.

Locals drifted in later in the arvo, families mainly for Saturday night picnics some camping. No doof doof parties this time!

No doof-doof.

We went for an evening stroll along the lake edges and stubbled apone some Down by t

drunk fishermen. They waved us over for a chat.

One bloke tried to show Maree how to cast his rode only to make a total balls up of it. He handed Maree his rod, I think, expecting her to be a princess at it. I don't think women fish down these parts. Maree nailed it, a text book caste. The blokes jaws had to be scrapped off the ground.

Aanother bloke handed me his rode and just to rub salt into their wounds I pulled off a stella caste too. They looked stunned but let us continue to fish for a bit. When we thought we had sufficiently showed them up we bid the farewell, wandering back to the cabina laughing.

It was cold night. When I say cold I mean bone-deep.

Morning light brought views of snow-dusted mountains.

Maree lit the fire and brewed hot coffee.

We’re learning how to stop, theres definately no go when it brrrrrrr cold out.

So we can just be. No packing. Not chasing the mext hill. No grinding......on our bikes.

This place is teaching us how to land.

Wind thrashed the lake like an angry toddler having a tantrum. This was this morning's episode of nature.

Again we lit the fire and supped hotc offee. No sign of blacky the last few mornings, I hope it didn't freeze!!

And just like that the wind stoppec...but the cold stayed. Maree went wandering in the afternoon. I stayed, wrapped up in my sleeping bag, sitting on my chair gazing out the large front window. Watching the lake. Waiting for beavers. I was content watching “Beaver TV”, watching the change in the day, letting my mind wonder.

Our food is nearly gone, we will have return to civilization soon. It was a great move coming to these Cabinas. Its given us timeto

talking, reflecting and processing.

Reluctantly we packed up and left our Cabina resort. We headed along the lake to the main road to climbed back to the mirador. This hill was cruisy, by our standards, and enjoyable ride even on the second time.

At the top, as I waited for Maree, a tourist handed me a banana...again. Why does this keep happening? Not complaining as we need all the substance we can get, but always banana or fruit! Where's the beer??

Lunch at horse camp, an old haunt as we stayed here the night before we originally hit Ushuaia.

After lunch the rain well sleet came in, icey cold. Frozen wereached Rio Olivia where we had decided to camp and re-enter Ushuaia tomorrow. And just like that, the sun came out warming my frozen bones. Talk about a warm welcome.

We camped by the river, a different spot that the last time. I sat soaking warmth and watching horses quietly graze close by.

Thinking how far we’d come.