I've been rather cranky lately.

I think it's the weather. The novelty excitement of the ash-grey cloudy sky has worn off. The volcano is no longer amusing. I don't like breathing through my scarf. I don't like to worry about inhaling potentially lung-damaging material. I miss being outside. I miss the sun. I miss the blue sky. I miss the fresh air.

And most of all I miss biking. '

For the first few days, I made the most of my indoor confinement. Dedicating long hours to awkwardly strumming the guitar, decorating more wine-box wallets, reaching the high notes, cooking, and staring longingly out the window.

Then I got tired of this waiting game. I settled down in a moody funk and immersed myself in solitude and self-pity. I did nothing. A whole lot of nothing... And I hardly ever do nothing.

The weather didn't help. The lack of outdoor activities, fresh air, exercise, sunlight, and moonlight all contributed. I let it all build up and up and up... until...

I made a decision.

I decided that this journey must continue. I have two options: stay put and feel sorry for myself or go. And the first option isn't really an option. Furthermore, I'm the only one who can hotwire this adventure back into existence. No one is going to come do that for me. So, I decided to wipe the volcanic powder out of my eyes and shake off this negativity. And started saying my goodbyes.

I said goodbye to the city of Zapala. Thanking it for everything it had offered me. Acknowledging that this little dusty windy city is way more hospitable than it appears. For some reason I have stayed for about a month. That reason is the people. The amazing people. Thanks to all of them.

(More pictures to come when I get a better internet connection...)

I said goodbye to Agustín (and Maxy and Vanessa and Agustín's parents...).

I said goodbye to Vero (and Juan Carlos, Manuel, Brian, Kevin, Lois, Nora, the dogs, the horses, Piwi, and the sheep).

I said goodbye to Susana (and Quique and Matias).

I said goodbye and thank you. When people open up their hearts, take you in, and spoil you with hospitality... you treasure them forever.

So, where am I going???? I mean, hello, there are still volcanic ashes everywhere. Is biking really an option??

There's only one way to find out.

After much debate and many third party opinions... I've decided to take my chances with Route 40. Hopefully I can outbike the ashes, at least until Chos Malal. From there I'll try my luck flagging down four-wheeled motorized transportation into the Province of Mendoza. Plans subject to change. But for now, I'm sticking to them...!