Giro pela Serra Gaúcha I
Kilômetros pedalados:
Porto Alegre-Lajeado:132 km
Lajeado-Guaporé: 93 km
Guaporé-Garibaldi: 111 km
Garibaldi-Porto Alegre: 138 km
Total: 474 km
Quando foi: de 22 a 25 fev 2006
Participaram: Alberto e eu
Há algum tempo eu estava disposto a pegar a bicicleta e dar um giro pela serra gaúcha.
Os companheiros de pedal estavam desaparecidos ou envolvidos com outras atividades, portanto decidi partir sozinho.
Antes da data de partida eu tinha enviado um email para o Alberto, o veterano das viagens de bicicleta pelo Uruguai eArgentina.
Apresentei o roteiro da viagem e perguntei se ele estava
disposto a acompanhar-me.
Ele topou em cima da hora, com a condição de partirmos um dia depois do programado, pois precisava de um tempo para se preparar. Transferi a data de largada e inverti o roteiro original devido àproximidade do carnaval. A viagem estava por fim estruturada.
Porto Alegre- Lajeado (132 km)
Partimos cedo, do posto em frente ao laçador, a uma velocidade moderada. Antes do almoço paramos algumas vezes, para tomar caldo de cana emVendinha ou comer melancia em Passo do Gil. Enquanto eu e o Alberto comíamos uma grande fatia de melancia conversamos com o seu Hélio, o dono de uma tenda de frutas. Ele falou da crise da agricultura. Dizia que os grandes engolirão os pequenos, e dominarão o mercado da melancia. As melancias que ele vendia eram enormes, e tão doces que quase comi minha parte da fatia com casca e tudo.
O pneu traseiro da bicicleta do Alberto furou a 1 km do restaurante Rosinha. Já tínhamos pedalado 95 km desde Porto Alegre. Por sorte o furo era bem pequeno, deu para ir enchendo e pedalando, enchendo e pedalando, até chegarmos no restaurante para o almoço.
Depois do almoço o Alberto consertou o pneu enquanto eu conversava com o seu Mário.
O seu Mário era um velho de cabelos e barba longos e grisalhos; vestia uma jaqueta e várias calças compridas, apesar do calor. Pensei que ele fosse um motoqueiro, depois vi que ele peregrinava a pé carregando uma mochila enorme, e estava pedindo carona na estrada em frente ao restaurante. Falando em portunhol, ele disse que era italiano naturalizado brasileiro, e que tinha sido ciclista no passado. Possuía uma Alfameq, e uma vez pedalou de Porto Alegre até a Argentina. Mais tarde comprou uma moto agrale e entrou para um grupo de motoqueiros em Cascavel-PR. Deu-me um cartão de um restaurante em Cascavel, onde escreveu atrás o seu nome e telefone com excelente caligrafia.
A RS 386 até Tabaí praticamente não tinha acostamento, e o tráfego de veículos era moderado. A partir de Tabaí a estrada melhorou um pouco, havia acostamento e o tráfego decresceu. Chegamos em Lajeado no fim da tarde.Tomamos um sorvete na esquina da praça e fomos conhecer a cicloviaque fica às margens do rio Taquari.
Não é uma ciclovia muito longa, mas é bem arborizada. Gostei de verque às margens do rio, no centro da cidade, não existem casas ou prédios, tem bastante mato nativo. Tomamos um refrigerante, percorremos a ciclovia e fomos procurar hotel. No centro da cidade tinha um hotel. Perguntei a uma velha, que estava na portaria:
-A senhora tem quarto para dois.
Ela disse que tinha, por tal preço.
-Então vamos ficar aqui.
Ela olhou para minhas bermudas apertadas e fez uma careta:
-Vocês são de alguma firma?
-Não.
-Então não tem quarto, só reservado.
O Alberto disse a ela que pagaríamos adiantado. Mas nem assim resolveu.
Através de algumas informações, fomos parar no Hotel Vallér, na rua Donga de Menezes 165, perto da BR 386. Hotel simples e grande. Estava quase lotado.
Deixamos as bicicletas dentro do quarto, tomamos banho e descemos para o restaurante que ficava no andar térreo. Eu tenho um primo chamado Rodrigo que mora em Cruzeiro do Sul, cidade que fica bem perto de Lajeado. Não pretendia ficar na casa dele, pois sempre que ele me encontra, faz uma festa tomando uns tragos, e eu quase sempre o acompanho. Além disso, quando ele bebe, não deixa ninguém dormir, e seus cães dobermann furiosos ficam soltos pela casa. Apenas telefonei para ele, dizendo que estávamos nas redondezas.
Em algumas horas ele apareceu no restaurante do hotel. Conversamos os três até tarde, tomando refrigerante! O assunto foi desde o gênesis, passando pela crise no mercado financeiro, até chegar ao apocalipse.
Lajeado-Guaporé (93 km)
No horário planejado estávamos saindo do hotel Vallér, rumando a Guaporé pela RS 130.
O Alberto começou a aumentar a velocidade e eu fiquei para trás tirando fotos de paisagens que encontrava pelo caminho. Assim fomos até Muçum, nos encontrando esporadicamente. Passamos por Arroio do Meio e Encantado. Depois de cruzarmos a ponte sobre o rio Guaporé entramos em Muçum para ver uma outra ponte que me chamou a atenção. Era uma ponte ferroviária que dava num túnel. Ali tiramos umas fotos, e conversamos com um morador. Ele nos alertou sobre as subidas que teríamos pela frente. A viagem estava sendo um verdadeiro passeio de Porto Alegre a Lajeado e dali até Muçum.
A partir de Muçum começamos a subir, subir.
Estava um sol de rachar. Parei numa sombra para passar protetor solar. O Alberto saiu na frente... Tinha começado o calvário. Passou por mim um caminhão quase parando, soltando uma fumaça preta, virei o rosto e segurei a respiração. Logo depois vi o Alberto, lá em cima, tentando se agarrar no caminhão lento. Sumiram os dois, grudados, serra acima.
A rêmora é um peixe encontrado em todos os mares do mundo. Vive grudada a outros peixes e ao casco de navios, através de um disco oval localizado sobre a cabeça. O disco é uma ventosa que prende por sucção. Fixando-se, a rêmora economiza energia e viaja de carona de uma região a outra do oceano.
Lá no alto da serra eu e o Alberto estávamos comentando, às gargalhadas, sobre a possibilidade da formação de um grupo de ciclistas serranos, uniformizados, vestindo camisetas com a figura de uma rêmora. Esse grupo seria equipado de arpões, cordas elásticas e ventosas.
Aquele trecho da estrada era bastante inclinado, pedalei palmo apalmo na marcha mais leve os 06 km de subida ininterrupta. Pingava suor aos cântaros. Eu parecia um picolé derretendo no sol. No final da subida tinha uma bica, oásis para ciclistas.
Encontrei o Alberto mais adiante numa capela chamada "Gruta Santa Catarina". A partir da capela, a estrada se transformou numa enorme montanha russa. Eu tinha pensado em conhecer o viaduto Mula Preta, o maior viaduto ferroviário da América Latina.
Paramos num boteco à beira da estrada e o dono disse que para chegar ao viaduto de bicicleta era melhor ir por Muçum, porque era mais plano.
-Mas se preferirem, vocês podem entrar logo ali à esquerda, e desceruns 12 km. Quero ver vocês voltarem. Só empurrando!
A subida da serra tinha me esgotado, e estávamos sem almoçar, portanto desistimos de ir ao viaduto.
A estada de chão que levava a ele ficava no Km 110 da RS 130.
Seguimos pela montanha russa até Dois Lajeados onde almoçamos assistindo na TV uma reprise do show da banda Rolling Stones no Rio. Saímos de Dois Lajeados pedalando por uma subida bastante inclinada de paralelepípedo. Logo entramos no asfalto, e o sobe-desce continuou até Guaporé. Era fim de tarde quando chegamos a Guaporé. Eu também tinha pensado em subir pedalando o Morro do Cristo, evisitar a Gruta dos Padres. Mas passamos pelo pé do morro e fomos direto à praça onde tiramos umas fotos da bela Igreja Matriz. Depois, na sorveteria da esquina, com as pernas esticadas sobre cadeiras, comemos um ótimo sorvete.
Estávamos muito cansados, só pensávamos em encontrar um hotel e descansar. Havia placas indicando que o Hotel Las Carreras oferecia descontos especiais no meio da semana. Ele ficava perto do autódromo e na direção da RS 441, estrada de terra que leva a Nova Prata, por onde deveríamos passar no dia seguinte. Fomos para lá, o hotel era excelente e o preço razoável.
Guardamos as bicicletas no quarto, demos um passeio a pé por trilhas no mato, tomamos banho de piscina, jogamos sinuca, comemos uma pizza e fomos dormir.
Guaporé-Garibaldi (111 Km)
Depois de um bom chimarrão servido numa grande cuia, e um excelente café da manhã, pegamos uma estrada de terra por entre o matagal, que descia até o rio Carreiro. Pela RS 441 teríamos de pedalar 40 km para chegar
a Nova Prata.
Até chegar ao rio Carreiro fizemos um "down-hill" entre matos e riachos. Lá em baixo tinha uma ponte de madeira. Tiramos umas fotos e começamos a subir, subir... Eu tinha dito para o Alberto para ele seguir no próprio ritmo, que eu iria curtir um pouco a paisagem e tirar umas fotos pelo caminho. Ele sumiu na frente, enquanto eu parava a todo o momento para observar os vales e descansar. Ao longe dava para se ver o hotel Las Carreras, transfigurado num ponto branco em meio à vegetação.
A RS 441 é uma estrada bucólica, estreita, com muito mato nativo. O trânsito de veículos era moderado no princípio, mas ficou muito fraco depois da ponte. Eu estava tirando fotos no caminho, num local bem ermo, quando parou um Fiat Uno branco com vidros fume. Pensei...
-O que será que eles querem?
Fui até o carro e encarei o sujeito. Chamava-se Mateus, e era de Passo Fundo. Disse que era ciclista e que tinha uma Alfameq (Alfamec de novo!).
Ele disse que tinha visto um ciclista pedalando uma bicicleta com alforges mais adiante, e intuiu que fosse meu companheiro. Perguntou de onde vínhamos e para onde íamos. A cada resposta minha, ele dava um soco no ar e dizia:
-Que massa!!!!
Despedi-me do sujeito, e dei uma acelerada para tentar me aproximardo Alberto.
Passei por um vilarejo onde me reabasteci de água. Depois começou a chover.
Meu celular tocou. Entrei debaixo de uma parada de ônibus para atender a chamada. Era o Alberto. Ele disse que estava a 5 km de Nova Prata. Passou-me a kilometragem do seu ciclocomputador. Comparei a quilometragem dele com a minha; estávamos separados pela distância de apenas 2 km.
Acelerei na chuva, a água e barro saltavam, eu estava imundo. Logo alcancei o Alberto, ele e a bicicleta estavam quase limpos! Para não se sujar ele andava com velocidade reduzida.
Em Nova Prata entramos no primeiro posto de gasolina. Tinha parado achuva. Solicitei ao frentista que desse uma ducha em mim e na bicicleta. Fiquei limpo de novo. Partimos para Veranópolis, pela RS 470, nesse trecho pude me secar com o vento. Paramos no restaurante Dona Carmem em Veranópolis, que ficava dentro do estádio do Veranópolis Futebol Clube. Depois de olhar o campo do estádio, cuja cor era de um verde quase fosforescente, almoçamos uma excelente comida caseira.
O time do Veranópolis jogaria contra o Grêmio pelo campeonato gaúchono dia seguinte. Estava ali um pessoal de Porto Alegre que daria cobertura ao jogo. Entre esse pessoal havia um rapaz que disse fazer parte de um grupo de ciclistas do bairro Tristeza, que subia a serra pedalando, com certa freqüência.
Pedalamos até um belvedere do qual se via o rio das Antas fazer a volta num morro enorme. Acompanhando o rio havia uma estrada de ferro. Tivemos o privilégio de ver um comboio ferroviário passar por lá naquele momento. Nunca tinha visto um comboio tão grande. Havia 5 locomotivas puxando aquilo tudo, e o comprimento era de aproximadamente uns 2 km.
A descida até o rio das Antas foi emocionante.
Um caminhão me cortou a frente quando eu despencava a mais de 50km/h. Não tinha acostamento descente, entrei num cascalho a alta velocidade, tive sorte em controlar a bicicleta sem bater na lateral da carroceria do caminhão ou derrapar e cair.
Mais tarde um caminhão que vinha subindo e que tinha feito uma ultrapassagem irresponsável quase que atropela o Alberto.
Eu vinha atrás do Alberto em alta velocidade. Freei por reflexo, a bicicleta foi de arrasto uns 10 ou 15 m, as duas rodas travadas! No último momento soltei e freei novamente. Consegui segurar! Por milagre não "engavetei" a bicicleta do Alberto com caminhão e tudo.
Mesmo depois dos sustos, fizemos ultrapassagens magníficas de caminhões lentos.
A descida que leva à ponte do rio das Antas é fantástica, algo surrealista. A subida que começa depois da ponte também.
Passando a Ponte do Rio das Antas, uma das maiores de arcos paralelos do mundo, começa um longo calvário. A subida é mais longa que aquela da RS 130, em compensação menos inclinada. Se na lomba da RS 130 eu utilizava somente a coroa pequena, nesta deu para fazer todo o percurso utilizando a coroa do meio. Aquela tinha 6 km, esta cerca de 11 km.
Subimos separados. O Alberto sempre foi um bom escalador. Sumiu na frente mesmo com pneus borrachudos. No caminho nos encontramos numa tenda onde comemos uma fatia de melancia gelada.
Enfim chegamos a Bento Gonçalves. Achei o trecho entre Veranópolis e Bento bastante perigoso. O tráfego de caminhões é intenso, têm muitas curvas, e praticamente não existe acostamento. Bento seria nosso próximo destino. Mas alteramos os planos. Por sugestão do Alberto seguimos viagem até Garibaldi. Era quase noite, o céu estava com nuvens escuras. A 100 metros do hotel Pieta em Garibaldi, começou a cair um toró.
Pegamos um quarto no último andar do hotel. Levamos as bicicletas de pé, um de cada vez, que o elevador era minúsculo. Demos umas voltas pela cidade a pé, e fomos jantar num restaurante em frente à rodoviária. Boa comida, bom vinho.
Garibaldi-Porto Alegre (138 km)
De Garibaldi fomos a Farroupilha pela VRS 313. Essa estrada começa em Farroupilha e vai até o parque da Festa Nacional do Champanha - FENACHAMP - em Garibaldi. É uma estrada com 20 km, pouco movimentada, ambiente bucólico.
Em Farroupilha nos chamou a atenção uma loja de bicicletas incomum. Era uma loja grande, com enormes vitrines. Estava fechada, mas pela vitrine vimos muitas bicicletas estranhas. Algumas tinham motor, outras tinham enormes baús acoplados. Vimos também uma reclinada com rodas traseiras inclinadas. Não havia ali nenhuma bicicleta convencional.
Descemos a serra pela RS 122, que vai de Farroupilha a São Vendelino. Nada comparável à descida da serra do rio das Antas.
No final da descida paramos numa tenda para uma salada de frutas.
Seguimos o pedal sem parar, até São Sebastião do Caí.
A 500 m do restaurante onde pretendíamos almoçar furou o pneu traseiro da bicicleta do Alberto.
Seguimos viagem. Portão, S. Leopoldo, Sapucaia... Quando chegamos em Esteio vimos nuvens negras pela frente.
Em Canoas caiu um toró.
Encontramos alguns motoqueiros abrigados da intensa chuva sob as passarelas. Fizemos o mesmo por algum tempo.
Entramos em Porto Alegre cruzando profundas poças d'água, sob chuva torrencial.
Conclusão final:
Nos próximos pedais pela serra pretendo diminuir as distâncias em cada lance. Para depois da viagem ainda ir pedalando até os pontos turísticos dos locais por onde passo. Fiquei sem ver o viaduto da Mula Preta e sem passear pelo Vale dos Vinhedos...
Serra é serra
TURN FOR THE GAUCHO MOUNTAIN RANGE I
Cycled kilometers:
Porto Alegre-Lajeado city: 132 km
Lajeado-Guaporé city: 93 km
Guaporé-Garibaldi city: 111 km
Garibaldi-Porto Alegre city: 138 km
Total: 474 km
When it happened: 22 to 25 fev 2006
Who participated: Alberto and I
Some time ago i was disposed to take the bicycle to give to a turn for the gaucho mountain range. The mountain bikers friends were disappeared or involved with other activities, therefore I decided to leave alone. Before the date of departure I had sent an email for the Alberto, the veteran of the trips of bicycle for Argentina and Uruguay countries. I presented the script of the trip to him and asked if he wanted to go with me. He accepted a day before the departure, under a condition that was to leave one day after the programmed one, because he needed a time to prepare himself. I transferred the date of departure and inverted the original script because the carnival brazilian party. The trip finally was structuralized.
Porto Alegre-Lajeado city (132 km)
We left early in the morning, from the gas station in front of the laçador monument, cycling in a moderate speed. Before the lunch we stop some times, to take sugar cane broth in Vendinha district and to eat watermelon in "Passo do Gil" district.
While Alberto and I were eating a great slice of watermelon we had a talk with Mr Helio, the owner of the tent of fruits. He spoke about the the crisis of agriculture. He said that the great ones will eat the small ones, and will dominate the market of the watermelon.
The watermelons that he was selling were enormous, and so candies that I ate my part of the slice almost with rind and everything.
The back tire of the bicycle of the Alberto pierced when it lacked 01 km to arrive in the Rosinha restaurant. We had cycled yet 95 km since Porto Alegre. Fortunately the puncture was very small, and so it was possible to go pumping and cycling, pumping and cycling, until arriving in the restaurant for the lunch.
After the lunch Alberto fixed the tire, while I talked with Mr Mário. Mr Mário was an old man with long and grey hair and beard; he was dressing a jacket and many trousers, one over the other trouser, in spite of the hot climate. I thought that he was a motorcyclist, later i saw that he traveled asking for hitchhiking carrying an enormous knapsack, and was asking for hitchhiking in the road in front of the restaurant.
Subimos separados. O Alberto sempre foi um bom escalador. Sumiu na frente mesmo com pneus borrachudos. No caminho nos encontramos numa tenda onde comemos uma fatia de melancia gelada.
Enfim chegamos a Bento Gonçalves. Achei o trecho entre Veranópolis e Bento bastante perigoso. O tráfego de caminhões é intenso, têm muitas curvas, e praticamente não existe acostamento. Bento seria nosso próximo destino. Mas alteramos os planos. Por sugestão do Alberto seguimos viagem até Garibaldi. Era quase noite, o céu estava com nuvens escuras. A 100 metros do hotel Pieta em Garibaldi, começou a cair um toró.
Pegamos um quarto no último andar do hotel. Levamos as bicicletas de pé, um de cada vez, que o elevador era minúsculo. Demos umas voltas pela cidade a pé, e fomos jantar num restaurante em frente à rodoviária. Boa comida, bom vinho.
Garibaldi-Porto Alegre (138 km)
De Garibaldi fomos a Farroupilha pela VRS 313. Essa estrada começa em Farroupilha e vai até o parque da Festa Nacional do Champanha - FENACHAMP - em Garibaldi. É uma estrada com 20 km, pouco movimentada, ambiente bucólico.
Em Farroupilha nos chamou a atenção uma loja de bicicletas incomum. Era uma loja grande, com enormes vitrines. Estava fechada, mas pela vitrine vimos muitas bicicletas estranhas. Algumas tinham motor, outras tinham enormes baús acoplados. Vimos também uma reclinada com rodas traseiras inclinadas. Não havia ali nenhuma bicicleta convencional.
Descemos a serra pela RS 122, que vai de Farroupilha a São Vendelino. Nada comparável à descida da serra do rio das Antas.
No final da descida paramos numa tenda para uma salada de frutas.
Seguimos o pedal sem parar, até São Sebastião do Caí.
A 500 m do restaurante onde pretendíamos almoçar furou o pneu traseiro da bicicleta do Alberto.
Seguimos viagem. Portão, S. Leopoldo, Sapucaia... Quando chegamos em Esteio vimos nuvens negras pela frente.
Em Canoas caiu um toró.
Encontramos alguns motoqueiros abrigados da intensa chuva sob as passarelas. Fizemos o mesmo por algum tempo.
Entramos em Porto Alegre cruzando profundas poças d'água, sob chuva torrencial.
Conclusão final:
Nos próximos pedais pela serra pretendo diminuir as distâncias em cada lance. Para depois da viagem ainda ir pedalando até os pontos turísticos dos locais por onde passo. Fiquei sem ver o viaduto da Mula Preta e sem passear pelo Vale dos Vinhedos...
Serra é serra
TURN FOR THE GAUCHO MOUNTAIN RANGE I
Cycled kilometers:
Porto Alegre-Lajeado city: 132 km
Lajeado-Guaporé city: 93 km
Guaporé-Garibaldi city: 111 km
Garibaldi-Porto Alegre city: 138 km
Total: 474 km
When it happened: 22 to 25 fev 2006
Who participated: Alberto and I
Some time ago i was disposed to take the bicycle to give to a turn for the gaucho mountain range. The mountain bikers friends were disappeared or involved with other activities, therefore I decided to leave alone. Before the date of departure I had sent an email for the Alberto, the veteran of the trips of bicycle for Argentina and Uruguay countries. I presented the script of the trip to him and asked if he wanted to go with me. He accepted a day before the departure, under a condition that was to leave one day after the programmed one, because he needed a time to prepare himself. I transferred the date of departure and inverted the original script because the carnival brazilian party. The trip finally was structuralized.
Porto Alegre-Lajeado city (132 km)
We left early in the morning, from the gas station in front of the laçador monument, cycling in a moderate speed. Before the lunch we stop some times, to take sugar cane broth in Vendinha district and to eat watermelon in "Passo do Gil" district.
While Alberto and I were eating a great slice of watermelon we had a talk with Mr Helio, the owner of the tent of fruits. He spoke about the the crisis of agriculture. He said that the great ones will eat the small ones, and will dominate the market of the watermelon.
The watermelons that he was selling were enormous, and so candies that I ate my part of the slice almost with rind and everything.
The back tire of the bicycle of the Alberto pierced when it lacked 01 km to arrive in the Rosinha restaurant. We had cycled yet 95 km since Porto Alegre. Fortunately the puncture was very small, and so it was possible to go pumping and cycling, pumping and cycling, until arriving in the restaurant for the lunch.
After the lunch Alberto fixed the tire, while I talked with Mr Mário. Mr Mário was an old man with long and grey hair and beard; he was dressing a jacket and many trousers, one over the other trouser, in spite of the hot climate. I thought that he was a motorcyclist, later i saw that he traveled asking for hitchhiking carrying an enormous knapsack, and was asking for hitchhiking in the road in front of the restaurant.
Speaking in a mix of portuguese and spanish, he said that he was italian naturalized brazilian, and that he had been mountain biker in the past. He told he used to own an Alfameq bycicle, and in some occasion he cycled from Porto Alegre to Buenos Aires. Later he bought an Agrale motorcycle and entered for a group of motorcyclists in Cascavel city. He gave a card to me it was from a of a restaurant in Cascavel. Behind the card he wrote its name and telephone with excellent calligraphy.
The RS 386 road that goes until Tabaí city practically did not have walkside, and the traffic of vehicles was moderate. After Tabaí, the road improved a little, had walkside and the traffic decreased.
We arrived in Lajeado city in the end of the afternoon. We took an ice cream in the corner of the square and went to know a cicleway that sites in the edges of the Taquari river.It is not a very long cicleway, but it is well woody. I liked to see that no exist houses or building in the edges of the river in the center of the city, have only a lot of native weeds. We took a cokee, we cycled for all the ciclovia and we were to look for some hotel.
In the center of the city had an hotel. I asked for an old woman that was there:
-The lady has room for two?
She said that she had, for such price.
-Then we are going to stay here.
She looked at for my pressed shorts and made a grimace.
-Are you from some instituition?
-Not.
-Then there are no room, only reserved.
The Alberto said it that we would pay in advance. But nor thus she decided.
Through some information, we were to stop in the Vallér Hotel, in the Donga de Menezes street 165, close to BR 386 road. Simple and great hotel. It was almost crowded.
We left the bicycles inside the bedroom, took a bath and went downstairs for the restaurant that was in the first floor.
I have a cousin called Rodrigo who lives in Cruzeiro do Sul, a small city near Lajeado. I did not intend to stay in his house, because that every time he meet me, he makes a party and drink a lot of beer and talk very much. And in that ocasions i often follow him drinking also. Moreover, when he drinks too much, often nobody can´t sleep, and its furious dogs dobermann are untied into the house. But I telephoned him, saying that we were in the roundnesses. In some hours he appeared in the restaurant of the hotel.
We three talked until late in the night, drinking coke! The subject was since the genesis, passing for the crisis in the financial market, until arriving at the apocalypse.
Lajeado-Guaporé city (93 km)
In the planned schedule we were leaving the Vallér hotel, cycling to Guaporé by the RS 130 road. Alberto started to increase the speed and I stopped backwards taking photos of landscapes that found in the way. Thus we were until Muçum city, stopping sometimes. We passed by Arroio do Meio and Encantado cities. After crossing the bridge on the Guaporé river we entered in Muçum city to see an interesting bridge that called me the attention by distance. It was a railroad bridge that led to a a tunnel in the hill. There we took photos, and we talked with an inhabitant. He alerted us abouth the ascents that we would have for the front. The trip was being a true stroll since of Porto Alegre until Lajeado city and from there until Muçum city.
From Muçum we start to go up, to go up… It had a sun to crack. I stopped in a shade to pass solar protector. The Alberto left in the front… The calvary had started.
Passed by me a truck almost stopping, freeing a smoke black, I turned the face and I held the breath. Soon later i saw Alberto, up there trying to grasp itself in the slow truck. The two, binded, disappeared mountain above.
The remora fish is found in all the seas of the world. It lives binded to other fishes and the hoof of ships, through a located oval structure on the head. The structure is a windy one that it arrests for suction. Fixing itself, the remora saves energy and travels of hitchhiking of a region to another one of the ocean.
There in the high of the mountain range Alberto and I were commenting, laughing, about the possibility of the formation of a group of mountain range bikers dressing t-shirts with the figure of a remora fish. This group would be equipped of harpoons, elastic and windy ropes.
That stretch of the road was very inclined, i cycled in the lightest gear the 06 km of uninterrupted ascent. I dripped sweat a lot. I seemed an ice lolly melting in the sun.
In the end of the ascent there was a pipe, oasis for mountain bikers.
Ahead I found Alberto in a chapel called “Gruta de Santa Catarina”. From the chapel, the road transformed into an enormous “russian mountain”.
I had thought about knowing the viaduct “Mula Preta”, the biggest railroad viaduct of Latin America. We stopped in one small bar in the edge of the road and the owner said that to arrive cycling in the viaduct would be better to go for Muçum city, because it was plainer.
- But if you prefer, you can enter to the left ahead, and go down so so 12 km. I wanna see you come back! Only pushing the bicycle!
The ascent of the mountain range had depleted me, and we were without lunchhing, therefore we gave up to go to the viaduct. The land rover that led to viaduct were in the km 110 of RS 130 road
We cycled for the “russian mountain” up to Dois Lajeados city where we had lunch attending in TV one reprise of the show of the band Rolling Stones in Rio de Janeiro. We left Dois Lajeados cycling by a road covered with parallelopiped stones, an ascent very inclined.
Soon we entered in asphalt, and the go up, go down continued until Guaporé city. It was afternoon end when we arrived in Guaporé city.
I also had thought about going up cycling Mount of the Christ, to evisitar the Grotto of the Priests, some tourist sites in Guaporé city. But we passed for the foot of the mount and were direct to the square where we took photos of the beautiful Church. Later, in the ice cream parlor of the corner, with the legs strained on chairs, we ate an excellent ice cream.
We were very tired, we only thought about finding a hotel and resting. It had plates indicating that the Las Carreras Hotel offered special discountings in the middle of the week. It was close to the automobile race track and in the direction to RS 441, a land road that led to Nova Prata, for where we would have to cycle in the following day.
We went to las Carreras Hotel, it was excellent and the price was reasonable.
We kept the bicycles in the bedroom, we went to walk in some tracks in the weeds, after we took swimming pool bath, we played pool, we eat a pizza and we went sleep.
Guaporé-Garibaldi city (111 km)
After a good chimarrão served in a big gourd, and one excelente coffee of the morning, we took a land road among the mass of weeds, that went down until Carreiro river. We would have to cycle more or less 40 km in that land rover to arrive in Nova Prata city.
We made a true “down-hill” for some kilometers, between the green and streams to go down untill Carreiro river. Down there there was a wooden bridge. We took photos and we start to go up, to go up…
I had told to Alberto that was to follow in his proper rhythm, that I would go climb that hill slowlly and stopping sometimes to take photos of landscapes. He disappeared in the front, while I stopped all the moment to observe the valleys and to rest. Far away i could see Las Carreras hotel like a small white point into the vegetation.
The RS 441 road is a bucolic, narrow road, with much native weeds. The transit of vehicles was moderate in the principle, but he was very weak after cross the bridge over Carreiro river. I was taking photos in the way, in a very wild place, when a car stopped in the land rover. It has smokes glasses and i could not see the poeple inside.
The RS 386 road that goes until Tabaí city practically did not have walkside, and the traffic of vehicles was moderate. After Tabaí, the road improved a little, had walkside and the traffic decreased.
We arrived in Lajeado city in the end of the afternoon. We took an ice cream in the corner of the square and went to know a cicleway that sites in the edges of the Taquari river.It is not a very long cicleway, but it is well woody. I liked to see that no exist houses or building in the edges of the river in the center of the city, have only a lot of native weeds. We took a cokee, we cycled for all the ciclovia and we were to look for some hotel.
In the center of the city had an hotel. I asked for an old woman that was there:
-The lady has room for two?
She said that she had, for such price.
-Then we are going to stay here.
She looked at for my pressed shorts and made a grimace.
-Are you from some instituition?
-Not.
-Then there are no room, only reserved.
The Alberto said it that we would pay in advance. But nor thus she decided.
Through some information, we were to stop in the Vallér Hotel, in the Donga de Menezes street 165, close to BR 386 road. Simple and great hotel. It was almost crowded.
We left the bicycles inside the bedroom, took a bath and went downstairs for the restaurant that was in the first floor.
I have a cousin called Rodrigo who lives in Cruzeiro do Sul, a small city near Lajeado. I did not intend to stay in his house, because that every time he meet me, he makes a party and drink a lot of beer and talk very much. And in that ocasions i often follow him drinking also. Moreover, when he drinks too much, often nobody can´t sleep, and its furious dogs dobermann are untied into the house. But I telephoned him, saying that we were in the roundnesses. In some hours he appeared in the restaurant of the hotel.
We three talked until late in the night, drinking coke! The subject was since the genesis, passing for the crisis in the financial market, until arriving at the apocalypse.
Lajeado-Guaporé city (93 km)
In the planned schedule we were leaving the Vallér hotel, cycling to Guaporé by the RS 130 road. Alberto started to increase the speed and I stopped backwards taking photos of landscapes that found in the way. Thus we were until Muçum city, stopping sometimes. We passed by Arroio do Meio and Encantado cities. After crossing the bridge on the Guaporé river we entered in Muçum city to see an interesting bridge that called me the attention by distance. It was a railroad bridge that led to a a tunnel in the hill. There we took photos, and we talked with an inhabitant. He alerted us abouth the ascents that we would have for the front. The trip was being a true stroll since of Porto Alegre until Lajeado city and from there until Muçum city.
From Muçum we start to go up, to go up… It had a sun to crack. I stopped in a shade to pass solar protector. The Alberto left in the front… The calvary had started.
Passed by me a truck almost stopping, freeing a smoke black, I turned the face and I held the breath. Soon later i saw Alberto, up there trying to grasp itself in the slow truck. The two, binded, disappeared mountain above.
The remora fish is found in all the seas of the world. It lives binded to other fishes and the hoof of ships, through a located oval structure on the head. The structure is a windy one that it arrests for suction. Fixing itself, the remora saves energy and travels of hitchhiking of a region to another one of the ocean.
There in the high of the mountain range Alberto and I were commenting, laughing, about the possibility of the formation of a group of mountain range bikers dressing t-shirts with the figure of a remora fish. This group would be equipped of harpoons, elastic and windy ropes.
That stretch of the road was very inclined, i cycled in the lightest gear the 06 km of uninterrupted ascent. I dripped sweat a lot. I seemed an ice lolly melting in the sun.
In the end of the ascent there was a pipe, oasis for mountain bikers.
Ahead I found Alberto in a chapel called “Gruta de Santa Catarina”. From the chapel, the road transformed into an enormous “russian mountain”.
I had thought about knowing the viaduct “Mula Preta”, the biggest railroad viaduct of Latin America. We stopped in one small bar in the edge of the road and the owner said that to arrive cycling in the viaduct would be better to go for Muçum city, because it was plainer.
- But if you prefer, you can enter to the left ahead, and go down so so 12 km. I wanna see you come back! Only pushing the bicycle!
The ascent of the mountain range had depleted me, and we were without lunchhing, therefore we gave up to go to the viaduct. The land rover that led to viaduct were in the km 110 of RS 130 road
We cycled for the “russian mountain” up to Dois Lajeados city where we had lunch attending in TV one reprise of the show of the band Rolling Stones in Rio de Janeiro. We left Dois Lajeados cycling by a road covered with parallelopiped stones, an ascent very inclined.
Soon we entered in asphalt, and the go up, go down continued until Guaporé city. It was afternoon end when we arrived in Guaporé city.
I also had thought about going up cycling Mount of the Christ, to evisitar the Grotto of the Priests, some tourist sites in Guaporé city. But we passed for the foot of the mount and were direct to the square where we took photos of the beautiful Church. Later, in the ice cream parlor of the corner, with the legs strained on chairs, we ate an excellent ice cream.
We were very tired, we only thought about finding a hotel and resting. It had plates indicating that the Las Carreras Hotel offered special discountings in the middle of the week. It was close to the automobile race track and in the direction to RS 441, a land road that led to Nova Prata, for where we would have to cycle in the following day.
We went to las Carreras Hotel, it was excellent and the price was reasonable.
We kept the bicycles in the bedroom, we went to walk in some tracks in the weeds, after we took swimming pool bath, we played pool, we eat a pizza and we went sleep.
Guaporé-Garibaldi city (111 km)
After a good chimarrão served in a big gourd, and one excelente coffee of the morning, we took a land road among the mass of weeds, that went down until Carreiro river. We would have to cycle more or less 40 km in that land rover to arrive in Nova Prata city.
We made a true “down-hill” for some kilometers, between the green and streams to go down untill Carreiro river. Down there there was a wooden bridge. We took photos and we start to go up, to go up…
I had told to Alberto that was to follow in his proper rhythm, that I would go climb that hill slowlly and stopping sometimes to take photos of landscapes. He disappeared in the front, while I stopped all the moment to observe the valleys and to rest. Far away i could see Las Carreras hotel like a small white point into the vegetation.
The RS 441 road is a bucolic, narrow road, with much native weeds. The transit of vehicles was moderate in the principle, but he was very weak after cross the bridge over Carreiro river. I was taking photos in the way, in a very wild place, when a car stopped in the land rover. It has smokes glasses and i could not see the poeple inside.
I thought...
-What they want?
I went until the car and I faced the citizen. He called Mateus, and lived in Passo Fundo city. He told he was also a mountain biker and had an Alfameq bicycle.(Alfameq again!).
He told that had saw a mountain biker with alforges ahead and asked if he was my partner. He asked where we were comming from came and to were we were going to. To each reply mine, he gave one beats in air and said:
- How mass!
I told goodbye to the nice citizen, and increased the speed to try reach Alberto.
I passed for one village where I replenished my bottle with water. Later it started to rain. My mobile rang. I entered underneath of a bus stop to attempt the phone call. It was Alberto. He said that was 5 km distant from Nova Prata city and passed me the data of his cyclocomputer. I compared the distances and saw that we were separated by only 2 km.
I increased the speed unde rai and over the mud in that land rover. The water and mud splashed in my body and bicycle. I was very dirty.
Soon I reached Alberto, iand i saw that ha and his bicycle were almost clean! For not making dirty he was cycling in reduced speed.
In Nova Prata city we entered in the first gas station we saw. The rain had stopped. I requested to the man of the gas station to give me a shower and in the bicycle also. We turned clean again.
We left for Veranópolis, cycling in RS 470 road. In this stretch I could dry myself with the wind.
We stopped in the restaurant Dona Carmem in Veranópolis, that was inside of the stadium of the Veranópolis Soccer Club. After looking at the field of the stadium, whose color was of a green very bright, we lunched an excellent food. The team of the Veranópolis would play against the Gremio for the gaucho championship in the following day.There are some guys there that were going to cover the game to a TV net. Between that guys there were one that said to be a mountain biker. He told he used to climb the gaucho mountain range cycling with partners often.
We cycled until a landscape from where i saw the Antas river making the return in an enormous mount. Following the river there were a railroad. We had the privilege to see a convoy railroad to pass for back in that moment. I had never seen a convoy so big. That had 5 locomotives pulling everything, and the length of the convoy was more or less 2 kilometers.
The descending until the Antas river was emotive. A truck cut the front to me when I was going down in a hight speed, so so 50km/h. That descent did not have sidewalk. I entered in a gravel in that high speed, and I was lucky in controlling the bicycle without beating in the lateral of the truck, or to skid and to fall.
Later a truck that came going up and that it had made an irresponsible ultraticket almost that runs over Alberto. I was behind Alberto, both in high speed. I braked for consequence, the bicycle was skated so so 15 meters with the two wheels braked. At the last moment I freed and I braked again. I was able to hold! For miracle not beated the bicycle of the Alberto with truck and everything.
Even thought with the scares, we made magnificent ultratickets of slow trucks. The descending that leads to the bridge of the Antas river is fantastic, something surrealist. The ascent that starts later also.
Passing the Antas river bridge, one of the greatest of parallel arcs of the world, started a long calvary. The ascent is longer than that one of RS 130 road, in compensation it is less inclined. If in the hill of RS 130 road I only used the smaller gear, in this ascent I was able to cycle all the time with the medium gear. That one had 6 km, this about 11 km. We went up separate. Alberto was always a good climber. He disappeared in front in spite the large tyres in his bike. In the way i reached him and we stopped in a tent where we eat a slice of cold watermelon.
At last we arrived in Bento Gonçalves city. I concluded that the stretch between Veranópolis and Bento Gonçalves city is very dangerous: the traffic of trucks is intense, have many curves, and walkside practically does not exist.
-What they want?
I went until the car and I faced the citizen. He called Mateus, and lived in Passo Fundo city. He told he was also a mountain biker and had an Alfameq bicycle.(Alfameq again!).
He told that had saw a mountain biker with alforges ahead and asked if he was my partner. He asked where we were comming from came and to were we were going to. To each reply mine, he gave one beats in air and said:
- How mass!
I told goodbye to the nice citizen, and increased the speed to try reach Alberto.
I passed for one village where I replenished my bottle with water. Later it started to rain. My mobile rang. I entered underneath of a bus stop to attempt the phone call. It was Alberto. He said that was 5 km distant from Nova Prata city and passed me the data of his cyclocomputer. I compared the distances and saw that we were separated by only 2 km.
I increased the speed unde rai and over the mud in that land rover. The water and mud splashed in my body and bicycle. I was very dirty.
Soon I reached Alberto, iand i saw that ha and his bicycle were almost clean! For not making dirty he was cycling in reduced speed.
In Nova Prata city we entered in the first gas station we saw. The rain had stopped. I requested to the man of the gas station to give me a shower and in the bicycle also. We turned clean again.
We left for Veranópolis, cycling in RS 470 road. In this stretch I could dry myself with the wind.
We stopped in the restaurant Dona Carmem in Veranópolis, that was inside of the stadium of the Veranópolis Soccer Club. After looking at the field of the stadium, whose color was of a green very bright, we lunched an excellent food. The team of the Veranópolis would play against the Gremio for the gaucho championship in the following day.There are some guys there that were going to cover the game to a TV net. Between that guys there were one that said to be a mountain biker. He told he used to climb the gaucho mountain range cycling with partners often.
We cycled until a landscape from where i saw the Antas river making the return in an enormous mount. Following the river there were a railroad. We had the privilege to see a convoy railroad to pass for back in that moment. I had never seen a convoy so big. That had 5 locomotives pulling everything, and the length of the convoy was more or less 2 kilometers.
The descending until the Antas river was emotive. A truck cut the front to me when I was going down in a hight speed, so so 50km/h. That descent did not have sidewalk. I entered in a gravel in that high speed, and I was lucky in controlling the bicycle without beating in the lateral of the truck, or to skid and to fall.
Later a truck that came going up and that it had made an irresponsible ultraticket almost that runs over Alberto. I was behind Alberto, both in high speed. I braked for consequence, the bicycle was skated so so 15 meters with the two wheels braked. At the last moment I freed and I braked again. I was able to hold! For miracle not beated the bicycle of the Alberto with truck and everything.
Even thought with the scares, we made magnificent ultratickets of slow trucks. The descending that leads to the bridge of the Antas river is fantastic, something surrealist. The ascent that starts later also.
Passing the Antas river bridge, one of the greatest of parallel arcs of the world, started a long calvary. The ascent is longer than that one of RS 130 road, in compensation it is less inclined. If in the hill of RS 130 road I only used the smaller gear, in this ascent I was able to cycle all the time with the medium gear. That one had 6 km, this about 11 km. We went up separate. Alberto was always a good climber. He disappeared in front in spite the large tyres in his bike. In the way i reached him and we stopped in a tent where we eat a slice of cold watermelon.
At last we arrived in Bento Gonçalves city. I concluded that the stretch between Veranópolis and Bento Gonçalves city is very dangerous: the traffic of trucks is intense, have many curves, and walkside practically does not exist.
Bento Gonçalves city would be our next destination. But we modifyed the plans. For suggestion of the Alberto we continued the trip until Garibaldi city.
It was almost night, the sky was with dark and heavy clouds. At 100 meters of the Pieta hotel in Garibaldi, started to fall a heavy rain.
We took a room in the last floor of the hotel. We carried the bicycles to the room, one of each time, because the the elevator was very small. We walked by the streets of city to know it and we ended in a restaurant in front the road station.Good food, good wine.
Garibaldi-Porto Alegre city (138 km)
From Garibaldi city we went to Farroupilha city through the VRS 313 road. This road starts in Farroupilha and goes until the park of the National Party of the Champagne (FENACHAMP) in Garibaldi city. This road lengths 20 km, little traffic of vehicles, bucolic surrounding
In Farroupilha we passed by an uncommon store of bicycles that called our attention. It was a big store, with enormous show windows. It was closed, but for the show window we saw many strange bicycles. Some had engine, others had enormous connected trunks. We also saw one with inclined back wheels. It did not have no conventional bicycle there.
We went down the mountain range for RS 122 road, it goes from Farroupilha city until São Vendelino city. It was not comparable to the descending of the mountain range of the Antas river.
In the end of the descending we stopped in a tent for “salad of fruits”
We continued cycling without stopping, until São Sebastião do Caí city passing by Bom Princípio city. The back tire of the bicycle of the Alberto pierced again when it lacked 500 meters to arrive in the restaurant where we intended to lunch.
We continued the trip. Portão, S. Leopoldo, Sapucaia do Sul cities… When we arrived in Esteio city we saw black and heavy clouds in front. It became to fall a torrential rain in Canoas city. It was hard to go ahead. We found some sheltered place where some motociclists were protected from rain. We did the same for some time.
We entered Porto Alegre crossing deep water puddles, under torrential rain.
Final conclusion:
In the next trips for the mountain range I intend to diminish the distances between launches. To go biking until the touristic points in the places i go. I didn´t see the viaduct of the Black Mule and without taking a walk in the Valley of the Vineyards…
Mountain range is mountain range.
It was almost night, the sky was with dark and heavy clouds. At 100 meters of the Pieta hotel in Garibaldi, started to fall a heavy rain.
We took a room in the last floor of the hotel. We carried the bicycles to the room, one of each time, because the the elevator was very small. We walked by the streets of city to know it and we ended in a restaurant in front the road station.Good food, good wine.
Garibaldi-Porto Alegre city (138 km)
From Garibaldi city we went to Farroupilha city through the VRS 313 road. This road starts in Farroupilha and goes until the park of the National Party of the Champagne (FENACHAMP) in Garibaldi city. This road lengths 20 km, little traffic of vehicles, bucolic surrounding
In Farroupilha we passed by an uncommon store of bicycles that called our attention. It was a big store, with enormous show windows. It was closed, but for the show window we saw many strange bicycles. Some had engine, others had enormous connected trunks. We also saw one with inclined back wheels. It did not have no conventional bicycle there.
We went down the mountain range for RS 122 road, it goes from Farroupilha city until São Vendelino city. It was not comparable to the descending of the mountain range of the Antas river.
In the end of the descending we stopped in a tent for “salad of fruits”
We continued cycling without stopping, until São Sebastião do Caí city passing by Bom Princípio city. The back tire of the bicycle of the Alberto pierced again when it lacked 500 meters to arrive in the restaurant where we intended to lunch.
We continued the trip. Portão, S. Leopoldo, Sapucaia do Sul cities… When we arrived in Esteio city we saw black and heavy clouds in front. It became to fall a torrential rain in Canoas city. It was hard to go ahead. We found some sheltered place where some motociclists were protected from rain. We did the same for some time.
We entered Porto Alegre crossing deep water puddles, under torrential rain.
Final conclusion:
In the next trips for the mountain range I intend to diminish the distances between launches. To go biking until the touristic points in the places i go. I didn´t see the viaduct of the Black Mule and without taking a walk in the Valley of the Vineyards…
Mountain range is mountain range.
