Please let me start by just saying WOW. And not WOW in quotation
marks, since I can`t make them work on this computer. Even the
single quote is weird. I`ve yet to make a question mark appear,
though I found I could get a dash on the numeric keypad. The
parentheses are marked in the incorrect places too. In other
words, don`t expect the best punctuation in this posting.
In this episode_ (that was supposed to be a colon)
A week of superlatives - the highest city, highest navigable lake,
the largest salt pan and driest desert on Earth
Threading our way through numerous rainstorms
Dick finally ditches his bike
No word from Eric, who was on a quest for another superlative
A dishonest, if not downright stupid Chilean
Dick gets hit by a car
There. Are those some attention grabbing headlines or what (insert
question mark here) Perhaps I need to avoid writing in questions,
given the lack of the question mark.
We left Cusco a week ago yesterday, and I believe my last post was
from Puno that evening, on the banks of Lake Titicaca. I had
just found out that I`d lost my jacket, and unfortunately it still
has not been recovered. Jeffrey from Norton Rat`s said he would
try again when he gets back from vacation, he`s off to see the Rolling
Stones right now!
After checking the weather for Bolivia from several sources, we decided
to take the chance of riding through there. Glenn and Sheila
scared me with second hand stories of bad weather, and I was ready
to just bypass the entire country and go through Chile. I can`t
begin to tell you how glad I am we decided to give it a try.
I can see how the weather there could be a huge issue, but the forecast
called for near perfect weather, so on we went.
The weather was far from perfect. We hit our first heavy shower
on the way from Puno to the Bolivian border. It turned to hail
briefly, and hail really hurts when you are riding a motorcycle.
Fortunately this storm was brief and the weather was fine by the border.
The border crossing was relatively painless and free of charge.
We made such good time riding into La Paz that we skipped right through
and continued on to Oruro a couple hours to the south. For a
moment this looked like it might be a mistake because there were some
very heavy rain showers on the way that could be seen for a while,
but every time we would get close to one the road would veer to the
side of it and we only got a little wet on the edge of one of them.
Eric was in La Paz at the time, and was apparently waiting for us
to show up there because Dick had said he wanted to do the World`s
Most Dangerous Road, which crosses some pass on the side of a cliff
on the way to La Cumbre. I said I didn`t want to do that one,
I`m just not an experienced enough rider, and more importantly, it`s
rainy season and the world`s most dangerous road becomes even more
dangerous. We`re not sure if Eric took the road or not
because we haven`t heard from him since. Ominous pause.
Oruro was one of those unlikely cities like Piura and many others,
where you come out of a desolate region to find this amazing thriving
vibrant city, just mobbed with pedestrians to all hours. We
got there late in the afternoon and left early the next morning, but
got a decent look at the city. Sleeping was a bit rough,
the altitude was something like 12,750 feet and I kept waking up gasping
for breath.
The following morning we rode over passes with remnants of recent
snow towards Potosi, the world`s highest city. In the mid 1800`s
it was also the world`s third largest city, and possibly the richest.
They have a silver mine there that has been very productive.
It also has been the cause of death for 6-8 MILLION people.
I find this number just mind blowing. We didn`t do the tour
of the mine, but there is a statue of the devil down there, covered
with coca leaf offerings. It is believed that he is the guardian
of this mine, and he isn`t doing anyone any favors.
We arrived at Potosi around noon, had lunch and talked about what
to do next. The weather was looking rather nice, so I reluctantly
agreed to ride the road to Uyuni. Plus I really wanted to see
the Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt pan on Earth, and I think this
also means the largest flat spot. I`ve heard the Black Rock
Desert in Nevada is the second largest flat spot in the Northern Hemisphere,
so why not just see the biggest of the biggest (oops, insert question
mark here, I`ll try not to let that happen again!)
The Potosi to Uyuni road is just amazing. In some places it`s
just a pair of tire tracks, which in the States might mean an old
ranch road or forestry road. You would almost be guaranteed
no other traffic other than the odd hunter during deer season.
On the Potosi Uyuni road we saw at least a dozen full size busses,
and maybe 20 semis. One of them was stuck in the mud.
In fact, even though the weather barely held for the day, it was obvious
that there had been lots of recent bad weather. The flash flood
basins had obviously been flash flooding recently, and there was one
field that was flooded with wather and spilling into the next field
across the road, and at one point this was about 2 feet deep.
I almost didn`t follow Dick across this little river, but we were
already something like 30 miles in (out of 130 miles).
After the river we came to the flash flood washouts, which were full
of mud or wet sand. The worst was the one with the stuck truck.
I rode across about 50 of the 150 meters and wiped out in the wet,
muddy sand. Dick was watching from the other side, apparently
expecting something like this to happen, and drove back across the
morass (is that the right word (doh, QM)) to help me get the bike
back upright. One of the truckers helped too. No damage
done except to the ego. I mentioned to Dick that I hated him
for wanting to go down this road. An hour later after
bribing a soldier at a roadblock we arrived in Uyuni. Okay,
it was worth it. The following day we took off from riding and
took the tour out onto the Salar de Uyuni. Right now it is covered
with 2 inches of water, a little deeper around the edges. Because
of this they only take you out to the Salt Hotel, and not all the
way to the middle where there is a cactus covered island, something
like 50 miles from the shore.
It is really surreal being several miles out onto this vast expanse
of nothing. The sky and the water covered surface blend, the
clouds reflect like a mirror, the distant snow capped volcanoes look
like floating alien space craft. The Toyota Landcruisers look
like little cruise ships as they approach. The guys shovelling
salt out of the couple inches of water into dump trucks don`t look
quite so happy. The thunderstorms rolling into the basin with
the Potosi Uyuni road looked ominous.
We talked to several people about how to get out of Uyuni. The
most desirable road was the one due south through Tupazi to the Argentinian
border. It is also the most difficult. Most tour companies
are not going through there. One Jeep was leaving the day we
went out on the Salar, and we found out at Minuteman Pizza that a
big troop carrier vehicle was going that was on the day we wanted
to leave. They said we could follow, in fact probably should,
as the road was difficult to follow where you have to ride up the
river for half and hour. Ride up the river for half an hour
(QM) Then we found out the 5 bikers travelling to Ushuaia
to Peru had gone this way heading north, and it took all 5 of them
to get EACH bike through this river fording area. I noticed
one more option, a road heading west to Chile following around the
south side of the Salar. Chris, the expat owner of Minuteman,
said that road was easy, he`d driven it himself 3 weeks ago.
A tour booking agent confirmed it wasn't that bad since they built
a bridge over the river crossing. We decided to do it.
It was easy. Washboard for miles, but easy. And spectacular.
We rode for an hour around the salar and then over a small mountain
range. Snowcapped volcanoes appeared before us. It took
another full hour to ride up to them, and then more than another hour
to drive up into them to the border with Chile. Talk about remote,
there was a train sitting there, and about 3 buidings. This
was the Bolivian station, and then a kilometer across volcanic wasteland
to the Chilean border station. This one was a little more advanced
with a real rackmount communication system. We talked to a Bolivian
who was working in San Cristobol, Bolivia for an American mining company
that is going to start mining what is believed to be the world`s richest
silver vein next year. He told us that the road ahead had a
60 kilometer detour, watch out.
The 60 kilometer detour might have been a blessing in disguise.
It sucked, it was rough, it went all the way around a mostly dry lake
bed opposite the usual road. However, there were huge thunderstorms
on the other side of the lake bed where the usual road ran, and we
stayed out of them by riding the detour. I haven`t seen so much
lightning in years. We were ready to stop at one of a series
of roadside shelters if neccessary. Somehow, every time we rode
up towards a thundershower, the road would veer away just at the last
moment - again! We finally caught the edge of a couple
showers just as we left the mountains and entered the desert, but
really barely got wet given how much potential was there. All
was looking good, we were 10 or 20 miles from Calama, just past thunderstorms,
and it looked like Dick might have just enough gas to make it to town,
when I noticed the bike losing power going up a hill, and then the
back end getting all wobbly - Flat Tire. It took about
an hour and a half to fix the flat, cause by a staple, but the sun
went down towards the end of the operation. We made it to Calama
just after dark, with all these needs. Gas, cash, hotel, and
food. It had already been a long day. And it wasn`t over.
We stopped to ask where to find a gas station, and somehow Dick lost
his glasses. They might have been stolen off his bike.
We went back to look for the glasses and he put his helmet down on
the curb by the bike. I rode around the block looking for the
glasses. When I got back Dick was all adrenalined out after
chasing some guy down who grabbed his helmet and walked away.
The confrontation had almost come to blows. We`re still looking
for the glasses and some crazy woman comes up and makes like she can
get them back. Then the drunk helmet thief comes back and tries
to pry the helmet away from Dick. Finally we just boot out of
there, the glasses are gone, but at least he has the helmet.
Gas, cash, hotel and food all materialize, but I didn`t get to sleep
until midnight. At least there was plenty of air at the Calama
elevation.
The following morning we drove across the Atacama Desert on our way
to Argentina. At first I thought we were in the wrong place.
Coming into San Pedro de Atacama everything was green and lush.
Then there were the orchards. And grass and sage. And
then we came over a little rise and there was nothing. Just
nothing, unless you count the gravel stretching for as far as the
eye could see to the west. To the east there were some snow
covered peaks. We went through an emmigration station, 100 miles
before the frontier, and then headed into those mountains. We
went by some amazing dry lakes, some not so dry. The Salar de
Aguas Calientes had thermal spring fed pools that were all shades
or turquoise, blue and green. The volcanoes were big and snow
capped. Saw some great snowboarding lines, wonder if anyone
has ever tried them. Finally, we crossed a pass and dropped
to a small shack of a border outpost station. Miles later we
crossed into Argentina, there was only a sign telling the mileage
to various cities. And then, 11 k later, the Argentinian border
station, where I think they had to wake people up to process us.
It was easy, it was free, and it took less than an hour.
A few hours later, after crossing a 4560M pass and just ahead of the
usual thunderstorm, we arrived at San Antonia de los Cobres, a little
town with a nice hotel that served a really good llama stew!
The heavy thunderstorms that lit up the horizons all evening made
it to town by the middle of the night, but were mostly petered out.
They did drop enough rain to make a mess of the roads, however.
We left town about the same time as a bus the next morning, and quickly
gained on it going over the first pass. However we got onto
a wide plain where the road was mostly mud and the bus started catching
up. I mentioned to Dick that the bus was catching up to us and
he took off rather quickly over the next mud section, going over the
untouched area of the road rather than following through the tracks
of the previous vehicles. This didn`t work so well. I
had the pleasure of watching him start to slide to the right, try
for the longest time to counter steer, and then finally lose it and
let the bike go down. I took my usual time going down the ruts
to a dry spot just past him, and then went and helped him get the
bike back upright. The bus arrived a minute later, discharged
a passenger into the middle of nowhere, and asked if we were alright.
Just fine, playing in the mud, you know. A while later we were
back on the way.
This day started cold, but I knew we would be hot by the end of the
day. And it was true. San Antonio was probably at least
12000 feet high, another shortness of breath night, and we headed
all the way down to the northern central valley of Argentina.
I guessed it would be a desert. I was wrong. As we went
down we went through some desert zones with siguaro looking cactii,
but then came around a corner and everything was green. We dropped
a long way from here, and it got hotter and more humid the whole way.
There had obviously been some recent big storms as there were piles
of gravel several feet deep washed into the road in numerous places.
If must have been around noon when we finally got to the bottom, and
suddenly it was like Main Street America around us. This place
is as Americanized as can be. It was Sunday afternoon and people
were camping by the river, swimming at the town pool, and hanging
out in the sun. We had been heading east most of the day and
took a right at Salta and headed south. The road went up a canyon
by a raging muddy river, and there were more gravel bars across the
roads. Thunderstorms could be seen to the west, glad we weren`t
heading that way! We headed across one more mountain range heading
east and dropped into a lush nature preserve on the far side.
A Honda Africa Twin passed us a couple times going down the canyon
through the heavy Sunday afternoon traffic. He showed us a shortcut
to the valley floor and told us that Concepcion would be a good place
to stay for the night.
Coming into Concepcion we stopped at a gas station to get our bearings.
As I put my left directional on and started to make my left, a beige
colored Ford or Fiat came barrelling past me, good thing I looked
first! Coming out of the gas station I was in the lead and getting
ready to make a left into town when another (or the same) beige colored
Ford or Fiat barrelled by me as I was about to make the left.
I stopped after a couple of blocks and Dick pulls up next to me yelling
that a car just hit him. It was the beige car, he`s pretty sure
it was a Ford Falcon. The car cut him off and ran into him,
hitting his knee, which dented his gas tank, before taking off and
trying to run me down. For having been hit by a car, neither
his knee nor his gas tank look too bad, and he didn`t fall down, a
veritable miracle. So all is good I guess.
Concepcion was another vibrant town. At midnight the town plaza
was still mobbed with people and little kids running around.
I think bedtimes are later down here. We watched a bit of the
Superbowl at a restaurant until it looked like they wanted to watch
something else.
The next morning dawned looking threatening. The hotel manager
said it rains a lot there. Every day. Hard. It was
so nice when we rode in. We cruised out of there , and fortunately
after an hour drove out from under the clouds and into a big desert.
Then another big desert, Salar de los Colorados, I think it was called.
And then another desert, and got to Caucete, only about 100 miles
from Mendoza, our ultimate goal. It was a cool little town but
there seemed to be only one restaurant open on a Monday night, and
it took forever to find it. The steak was good though, my first
of the famous Argentinian beef. A thunderstorm rolled in after
dinner and we barely made it back to the hotel before the real downpour
began, and it was a good one.
This morning we made it to Mendoza. This has been a planned
stop for a while for bike work. The city center was easy to
get to, and a guy on a little motorbike saw us looking for hotels
and recomended one. It has parking, AC, TV and was 5 blocks
from a Honda store. They had front tires for both out bikes,
17 and 19 inch. And there is a place around the corner from
them that can put the tires on for us tomorrow morning for less than
$3 each. And Dick found a pair of glasses that will get him
through the trip. All this afternoon. Maybe we won`t stay
the two full days we planned after all. Glenn and Sheila owe
us a round of beer if we get to Ushuaia before them, so that`s what
we are going to try and do. Right now they are about 3 days
behind us. I figure we can get to Ushuaia in 5 - 7 days if we
push pretty hard. It`s somewhere around 2000 miles.
And we just did 2400 miles in the last 9 days, with a day off.
So we are going to ride down through the Lakes District, then head
to the coast where the roads are better, and then after Ushuaia head
back north and explore Patagonia in detail on the way back to Santiago,
which is right across the Andes from Mendoza. I`ll let you know
how it goes...
