THE INCA TRAIL
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Day 24: Calama - Salta (Argentina) (614km) More of the Atacama Desert today - such spectacular scenery: Flat sandy desert plains, snowcapped volcanic ranges surrounded by ancient dust, ash and boulders; soda lakes with flamingoes. And kilometre after kilometre of two lane blacktop threading its way through before giving way to gravel and crossing two high passes (up to 15,200ft) through the Andes back into Argentina. A run along the fertile Quebrada del Toro valley brought the final contrast: cacti gave way to lush green farmland and villages sheltered by trees. Then into Salta - for another resounding Cathedral square welcome. In the middle of their drive through the driest place on earth, Tony and Pauline Mather were forced to stop, their Citroen's engine overheating badly. By the time one of the HERO course cars came across them, it had boiled a second time. But Tony was relaxed and cheery enough. 'Almost certainly the thermostat. I can sort that.' Water problems? No way. They'd had the devil's own luck and managed to find a tiny inhabited oasis with two cottages, a stream and ... a tap. David Inns nearly lost it when Sue Shoosmith passed him on the gravel section: he went blind into a sand-trap, and narrowly avoided going into a roll. 'But we came down so hard, I broke a shock absorber.' The rear spring had torn off its mounting. David had already managed to relocate the spring when Jingers arrived in one of HERO's sweep vehicles. Jingers managed to fit a new shocker, though this was around 15,400ft above sea level - tough work in such a rarifed atmosphere if you're not acclimataised. The birds have a tough time getting enough lift to fly here. News from the Hammonds: after taking time out at Lima, they plan to buy a replacement 4x4 in Argentina and rejoin us at Bariloche for the rest of the event. Good stuff! Alastair Caldwell was towed into Salta by Jim Taylor's big Chevy Avalanche, much to the chagrin of the local press, who like to see Ferraris behaving as Ferraris should: fast and loud. By the end of the day, Alastair's 330GT was neither. 'The oil light came on. I took a look and realised the sump was holed: a stone must have got between the sump guard and the engine. I didn't have enough oil, so I poured petrol into the engine to help trace where the leak was. It was in an impossible to reach place - so there was nothing for it but to look for a tow.' |
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