Monday, July 15, 2013

Tiradentes - Congonhas

"Vai com Deus," or Go with God, is the most common way way to say goodbye in Minas Gerais. It is an encouraging thing to hear several times a day as I ride.

I had a late start leaving Tiradentes, and while always beautiful, the riding has become particularly challenging. The climbs are the steepest I can recall. The cobblestone roads--sometimes consisting of jagged, smooth rocks--are more difficult than the dirt roads as I have to take it very slow.

I connected again to the dirt roads of the Estrada Real and by 5 (it grows dark at 5:30) I began to look for a place to camp for the night. I searched for a stream, but I was up higher in the hills and the two water bottle would have to suffice. I located a grassy area, set up camp, and was asleep by 8. I awoke during the night and the stars were as clear and vast as I can remember. I thought of Gustavo and how he had said very few remember the stars appear each night.

In the morning the sun appeared over the fog covered valley. The rainfly was saturated with dew. At 7, a truck and a motorcycle pulled up to a nearby fazenda and I could hear the men working in the fields with their dogs. As I was about to set off, a man on horseback with his two dogs approached. He gave me good advice about the route and told me to go with God.

I took a few wrong turns and had to double back to continue to Lagoa Dourada. When I arrived in Lagoa Dourada I stepped in to a small eatery run by João, an older fellow who cooks a fine spread of almoço (the main meal of the day) on a wood stove for 8 reis. 

After almoço I followed the directions to get back on the estrada real.  I climbed a wickedly steep cobblestone road leading out of Lagoa Dourada when all of the sudden  I heard a terrible noise. The rear derailler had caught the spokes, and the rear dropout was badly bent and I was certain the derailler was gone as well. 

I walked the bike down the hill to find some shade to work on the bike. I removed the rear derailler, and with a crescent wrench, bent the rear dropout back into shape. After re-installing the rear derailler, the bike seemed to be fine, although the rear hub either was overtightened when the derailler knocked into it, or the new spacing of the dropouts overtightened the rear hub. Riding was accordingly a bit slower over the last two days.

I was happy to have a functioning bike, and not wanting to press my luck, I took the paved roads to Entre Rios de Minas. I found a cheap room, although the woman at the pension didn´t quite follow my story of how I repaired the rear dropout. 

I found a small pastel shop run by an older couple who fried up a curry flavored pastel and served me a cold beer. A neighbor arrived, and the four of us spoke of large cities versus small towns. All three recommended I move to Entre Rios. I then walked through town with the neighbor, a woman in her 50s, and she gave me detailed, detailed, detailed instructions on how to avoid BR 040 when arriving in Congongas. She wished me luck on my journey and told me to go with God. 

I believe I went with God the next next day but God had plans for me to ride BR 040. I began the day picking up 8km of rolling dirt roads through fazendas, yet I could not pick up the remaininder of the Estrada real, and found myself riding on a shoulderless road with heavy traffic and construction, then reaching BR 040, where I rode in heavy traffic with no shoulder as well. 

I arrived in Congonhas and found an inexpensive room run by a fellow who is active in the Hare Kishna religion. Strangely, he did not tell me to go with God, but we spoke at length about Aleijadinho, a fingerless  sculptor (he suffered from leprosy) born in Ouro Preto in 1730 who worked mostly on the Santuário de Bom Jesus de Matosinhos in Congonhas. There I saw the Doze Profetos, twelve stone sculptures by Aleijadinho, as well as many wood carvings depicting the life of Christ. The sanctuary sits atop a mountain overlooking the valley. Palm trees reach to the intense sun and blue skies. 

I was drawn to look into the eyes of each of the Doze Profetos. I felt the eyes of Aleijadinho looking back at me.

In the wind, you hear him whisper: ´´Vai com Deus.´´

 Cobblestones are the hardest on the bike and rider.

 Man riding with scathe.



 Sun setting
 Large birds fly above.





 Sunrise


 João

 The hill where the derailler hit the rear spokes.
 Shade to work on the bike.
 Bent derailler
 Bent derailler
 Fixed

 Exactly
 Across from the bus stop from the photo above, the view from the roadside.
 Entre Rios de Minas
  Entre Rios de Minas
 On the way to Congonhas.



 The next 20 photos below,