I didn’t set out to cover 1000km today but I finally got that Goldilocks day I was looking for. Temperatures in the mid-80s and no wind. The rural highway I started my day on became progressively busier as I approached the outskirts of Buenos Aires. Slow moving cattle trucks would stack up trains of ten to fifteen cars making it very difficult to pass. Finally the road became a divided highway allowing the trucks their own lane. 

At one point the speed limit changed to 130km/hr (81mph) which is the highest I have seen in South America. It seemed suicidally fast as the lanes were narrow and there wasn’t even two inches of shoulder on either side. Additionally, the pavement was deeply rutted from the heavy trucks. No one, including me, could achieve that speed for more than a few seconds before either the traffic or road conditions would necessitate a handful of brakes. 

Once heading north the traffic thinned out a bit. There were still a lot of trucks but they all kept to the right lane. I cranked up a Classic Rock station and started to find my groove. Fueled on empanadas and coca-cola, I was still in the mood to ride when I arrived at my projected campsite. It was only 3:00 and I thought that I could ride another hour or two. The flaw in my reasoning, as I soon figured out, was that the towns started getting further and further apart. 

I found the gate locked at the next place I had intended to camp just as my low fuel indicator light came on. “Are those thunderstorms up ahead?”. Indeed they were. 

I got back on the highway hoping to find fuel. My shadow escorted me as it was stretched out across the righthand lane and onto the grass beyond. Finally I saw a gas station. I asked the attendant about camping while he topped off my tank. He told me about a municipal campground in a little town about 40 more miles down the road. I looked at the position of the sun and thought “It’s going to be close”.

When I turned off the highway, I followed a dirt road four miles into the “town” of Bonpland. At least it looked like it had been a town at one time. I could see the remains of an abandoned rail-yard. A dozen ancient cattle cars with dilapidated wooden sides were lined up along what was once a main street. The sun was now touching the horizon and my confidence in finding the “campground” was sinking with it. 

I stopped and asked an old man who was walking down the dirt road. He smiled and told me that there was indeed camping. Gesturing with his hands while giving me directions he added that the camping was free. I liked the sound of that. Shockingly when I arrived at the campground, it was really lovely and well maintained. Complete with picnic tables and BBQ pits it is probably the nicest campground I have seen in South America.

The only other vehicle here was a camper van with Manitoba plates. After pitching my tent, I went over to introduce myself. Joyce and Bob offered me a cold beer and comfortable folding lawn chair. They have been on the road for three years but have taken intermittent breaks to go back to Canada to visit their kids. They too are headed to visit Iguazu Falls.

I don’t have very much cell signal here so my photos will have to wait until tomorrow.