I'm in my sleeping bag trying to warm up and dry out from the day. Leaving Ushuaia the weather looked promising as it was brisk but clear. The ride through the costal mountains was highlighted with a spirited romp around the twisties as I enjoyed my last views of the snow covered peaks. The rain started just as soon as I cleared the mountain range and dropped out onto the plain. It didn't stop until I arrived in camp.

With temperatures in the low 40s the chill slowly seeped into my riding gear. I stopped for a quick cup of coffee and gas in Rio Grande but could not get warm. My teeth were chattering by the time I reached my first of four border crossings. I had get stamped out of Argentina, ride 20 miles to enter back into Chile, ride 130 miles to cross the Straight of Magellan by ferry, ride 40 miles to exit Chile and finally enter back into Argentina. I ran into several other cold and wet riders traveling both to and from Ushuaia. We commiserated as we admired each other's bikes and shared stories.

While I was getting ready to roll off from the last customs checkpoint, a bicyclist with a ZZ Top-worthy beard pulled up along side. He had a heavy Spanish accent but introduced himself in English. Juan told me that he had spent the last 6 months cycling from his home in northern Chile. He had stopped to chat because he noticed my Washington license plate and he has a brother that is living in Seattle. In our exchange he warned me about the section of road between El Calafate and Perdito Moreno. I told him that I was familiar with it because I had already ridden that section and it was terrifying. He agreed. He said that he had fallen off his bike five times on the stretch of road. He had seen several motorcyclists having difficulty there as well. I thanked him for his concern and we headed in our opposite directions.

The grey flat light and rain made spotting wandering guanacos incredibly difficult. I found myself deep on the brakes several times avoiding one or more of the lumbering animals. In my hurry to get out of the weather, I missed the last gas station before my camp so I had to ride back 25 miles. In this part of Argentina it is really important to pay attention to where you can find fuel as it can be more than 200 miles between substantial towns.

The skies have cleared and I can see some stars so I'm hopeful tomorrow will be a bit kinder.