Missive #5- Day 31- 40

Missive #5, Day 31, Tue, Feb 27th to Day 40, Thur, Mar 8th, 2018

Day 31, Tue, Feb 27th

 Hotel Coloso, Potosi, 0 km

The morning tour conducted by Madeleine was most interesting. I did not know that Potosi in its heyday rivaled London and Paris in size and population. It is said that it literally financed the activities of the Spanish Empire with the extraction of gold, silver and other minerals (zinc, copper, tin) from its nearby mining hill called Cerro Rico with an elevation of 15,800 feet.

Today it has a population of approx 200,000 people about the same as in its prime. It once almost became a ghost town until new mining methods resurrected it. It sits at 13,300 feet and parts of it are protected by Unesco.

The city has narrow streets depicting it's centuries old age and is full of charm and character. Apparently 8 mm died died here over the centuries of Spanish reign, such a waste. 

The museum depicting the olden mining extraction days was first rate with original machinery in place and mannequin human figures working the equipment. You felt drawn back in time. A lot of stamped coins were minted here and sent under strong box to Spain. I wish I had more space to go into a better explanation but other stories beckon!

I am on a mining tour inside Cerro Rico (means ridge of a hill) writing this to distract myself. I am a more than a kilometre deep inside this sliver/zinc mine at 4300 metres of elevation overlooking Potosi which has a population of something over 200,000. There are 10 of us in the group mostly kids and I am glad Sarah is along. It is real spooky. We started out walking the railway tracks and it was cold and muddy. Even for me it was tricky bending down with lots of beams, multiple 4" thick over hanging wiring and of course low ceiling rock. Thank goodness for my miners hat and light showing the way as I was constantly banging my head. After awhile, the cold turned to hot and dry and guess what, dusty and it was hard to breath especially at this thin air elevation. I covered my mouth with one hand to help out. Our five foot nothing guide Sol was communicating mostly in Spanish but we got a little broken English along the way. She was pretty hard nosed and unsympathetic. There were miners coming and going all the time with cheeks full of cocoa chewing leaves. We had to step aside often as ton and a half ore cars went screaming by pushed and pulled by sweating young men. It is a co-op here and they have to remove ten tons of ore a day or not get paid (150 bolivar's each or about $30), that means 10 cars because the payload is a ton and the rail car itself weighs a half a ton. Sarah and I elected not to go the last 500 metres to see the men loading a car. We were sitting and resting in stifling 30 Deg stuffy conditions and the option was to forge ahead basically on hands and knees to where it was going to be 40 Deg to see this exercise. No thanks. 

There are all these pipes and hoses to follow as well. Mostly I think it is compressor lines for Jack hammers to drill for new dynamite holes. Anyone can buy the stuff at a corner store and spice it up with lethal ammonia nitrite.  I paid 20 Bolivar's, about $4 for one stick to give to a miner. Would be great for halloween!

Altogether we were in there for over 2.5 air depleted hours wandering around. There are 15,000 miners working the hill. There are 500 entrances and forks going every which way so best to keep up and not to get lost. Our journey felt like a marathon. I jammed my neck several times prompting loud and frustrated 'f' word expletives. I routinely cracked my helmet on the jagged roof and my back got sore bending over which reduced visibility forcing more bangs (solution, hold hat with one hand and tip it a bit sideways to see better under brim). Stray ore rocks and uneven surfaces caused ankle rollovers in my big gum boots. My camera was caqued in dust but did a yeomans job of describing the many, many scenes. 

Towards the end Sol took us to see the 'God of the Mine'; only trouble was getting there. We took a hands and knees detour through a small maybe 4' opening up a sloping incline for about 50'. I would have said absolutely not but Sol said it was our way out 400 metres away. Hallelujah! I crawled up and through this seemingly tiny opening with my camera strap in my teeth because I really needed both hands for balance to take some stress off my knees which were also crawling on the jagged rock. It was like a monkey ....a football if you get my drift. 

Sarah and I were never so happy to get to fresh air! I have never felt like being buried alive so much as right there and then on that excursion. It had been raining when we went in and there was a sprinkling of snow on the distant hills when we came out so it was cold up there at  5 pm. These miners probably have one of the toughest, most grueling jobs in the world, back breaking work, literally. There are few accidents inside the mine, most of them succumb to lung disease and I can sure understand why. 

The whole experience felt like a marathon and I kept wondering when it was going to end. The claustrophobic conditions got to me more than once. Even worse, the lack of air and the suffocating feeling at times was quite worrying. 

Would I do it again, absolutely not! Would I go in there knowing the conditions we would be in for 2.5 hours, probably not. Am I glad I experienced it, for sure! Witnessing the harrowing, brutal work involved gave me some idea how those from yesteryear toiled under Spanish rule and some still do today in the name of making a meagre living. 

What an adventure for this 69 year old!

Day 32, Wed, Feb 28th

Hotel Coloso, Potosi to Hotel Los Parrales, Tarija, 347 km

As I merrily followed Franc Lai out of Potosi this morning at 7 am, I seriously thought that maybe this would be the day that I could type the coveted 3 words 'Nothing to Report'. Not! First of all I had trouble with my GPS which was trying to 'àcquire satellites' in the narrow streetways. I followed Franco who has 2 GPS's but he was pretty blind too as we went uphill and downdale in the busy morning traffic vaguely looking for a way out of his hilly town. 

Before too long we were finally out and on our way. It was a nice day to enjoy the ride. Unfortunately too nice. We happily raced down the roadway with 3 GPS's telling us we were on the wrong route! Hello boys, what are you thinking? 

We have all experienced black smoke exhaust for a short while say going up the Malahat. We curse and 'fume', roll up the windows, turn on the internal only air supply and say there otta be a law. In these countries it is an every day occurrence and happens all the time. You hold your breath for as long as you can, breath out slowly when needed and just deal with it. Most large trucks are simply awful and the only exit is the powerful acceleration of our amazing machines as you weave in and out. 

An hour later we stop off the roadway to discuss our dilemma. Go back to the green line or keep going? We elected to keep going which was probably mistake #2 in Helge's estimation as he later confirmed. 

There were two dirt roads heading east over the mountains we could choose from. About 45 minutes south the first one was a wet muddy track from the getgo so nogo. Who wants to get stuck somewhere in a badland place trying to get back to the green line with a huge language barrier? 

About another hour or so later we stop for water, fuel and a few bananas. We found a trucker who seemed to know the route, 40 klics he says. Off we go again.

When we get to the next left hand eastwards turnoff  it looks okay (our sealed road alternative was another 450 km, too much!). Franco has lots of off road time in the saddle but my main claim to fame was several days in the Namibian Desert last year. We have to make this work. Soon Franco stops, "Nick, we reduce tire pressure to 23 lbs, softer ride, grips road better, good idea Franco, whatever you say"! It is getting hot. 

Off we go again, all good, fourty klics turns into 95 climbing up and down beautiful but stark and isolated mountain ranges we couldn't see in the distance. Switchbacks galore, viewpoints you only want to glance at quickly because the sheer unguarded drop offs are not to be contemplated. 

Fortunately the road was a good, mostly graded gravel surface. The softer tires were a godsend. We stopped often to look around. We constantly encouraged each other to drive within limits. There was zero normal communication as no reception but I had previously sent Helge a cryptic InReach message via my DeLorme Satellite unit. 

It turned out to be a great adventure. When we got to the turn off late in the day there were a few high fives I can tell you! We were hot and sweaty, our bikes were covered in grime, we had to reflate tires but we had made it, only another 100 klics to get home on a sealed surface. 

Not so fast says Helge when we arrive late for 7 pm dinner with everyone in attendance. "You guys compromised the group's trip. What if something had gone wrong and we had to come get you? How in the heck could two experienced riders get the green line so wrong"? Yadda, Yadda. We definitely screwed up in more ways than one but at least we engineered ourselves out of it. Point taken, Helge! 

What an adventure but I am reminded once again to take nothing for granted. Check and double check everything. We were supposed to have had a 347 km day. It turned out to be 422 km about 75 rough road klics more. 

Later: the funny thing is, if either of us had been alone none of this would have happened. We would have been checking the green line much more prudently instead of mindlessly relying on the other and assuming that they had their act together. Another reason why riding alone and listening to your own vibes is the way to go.

Two days later: Misery loves company I guess. To add insult to injury Helge's consultant in SA gets an email that says room 102 owes $49 US for god's sakes for soiled towels! Franco and I both wiped down our dirty riding pants and boots when we got back from our off-road adventure. Why wouldn't a little extra detergent fix things? When you are in a foreign country you have to go with the flow but this one seems ridiculous.

Day 33, Thur, Mar 1st

Hotel Los Parrales, Tarija, Bolivia to Hotel Alto Verde, Oran, Argentina, 241 km

I had no idea how tired I was after a short sleep. I was up half the night trying to get Missive #4 on the hotwire with my computer guy Mike Daniel's help. Every time I pushed send my Ipad would think and think and go black and data was lost. Lucky I had a backup. The only thing I could think of was too many pics using too much data. I went from 85 pics to 45 pics and it finally processed, thank goodness. In the interim I maybe got 4 hours sleep.

It showed the next day on the way to the border. It was cold, misty, even rainy in places, slippery roads etc. I could tell my driving was erratic without knowing why. Instinctively I swung in behind Vince and Linda riding two up while the others raced by.

Here are a couple of pics Linda took of a rock slide while enroute. This is one of the worst ones but I wanted you to see what can happen around any corner on this continent. Roads are built on the side of cliffs so lots can fall down at a moments notice and block the road for everyone but us.

Somewhere today we passed the 7,000 km mark. It is 6,200 much easier driving kilometres from Vancouver to Halifax as a comparison.

Day 34, Fri, Mar 2nd

Hotel Alto Verde, Oran to Hotel Casa Real, Salta, 270 km

The ride to Salta today was straight, boring and mercifully short. It allowed me time to observe and comment as follows:

-as a biker you spend a lot of time alone; part of you is concentrating keenly on the road, the other part you are free to roam with your thoughts; mostly it is a very good space to be in especially in a foreign country

-dogs, much less of the critters; if the back end is facing you not a problem, if it's the front end you always need to expect the unexpected however unlikely

-saw a few nice horses

-brakes, I practiced hard braking a couple of times

-the scenery is tropical and lush, hundreds of sections (640 acres) of sugar cane growing

-way more and more updated vehicles of all descriptions

-I have to really check my rear view mirror before assuming a passing situation, lots of speedy vehicles sneaking up on you

-there are even guard rails on the roadsides

-no garbage, finally!

-zero birdlife and wildlife still, sure not like home in that regard

-while I have been led to understand that there is a lot of abject poverty in some parts of Argentina, for the most part there looks to be a lot more abundance and modernity here than I have seen so far

-there were at least 5 roadside and police checkpoints along the 250 km roadway, they were not interested in me

-my R1200 Adventure is a marvelous piece of engineering and a delight to ride; the speed, acceleration, manoeverability, balance, comfort and overall performance is just amazing

-it is quite a bit more expensive here, snacks and gas yesterday cost me about $40 US.

As a quick reference, Argentina has 4X Bolivia's population at 42 mm, 4X it's gdp per capita at $14,700 US and is about 2.5X as big at 2800 sq. km.

Got to the hotel early pm and had a nice massage my first of the trip.

Last thing today, I was about to follow a reduced crowd for dinner and thought, what the heck, there is a McDonalds 5 blocks away so why not go there? I almost never have a Big Mac Combo but I sure enjoyed the one I had today! It was 170 pesos or $10.82 at currency exchange in Canada. I do not know how close this is to a home equivalent so maybe someone can tell me.

Ps Salta McDonalds is a good place to watch pretty girls walk in and out on a Friday night! The town is a happenin’ place.

 

Day 35, Sat, Mar 3rd

Hotel Casa Real, Salta, 0 km

A day off from the road in a lovely city....

-At breakfast at home my coffee in the morning is black, here it is hot milk and sugar all the way; a saving grace, the fruit is always plentiful and good; two fired eggs on toast usually about does it.

-I always prepare a sandwich of ham, cheese, salami on the terrible dry bread provided; it might look a bit inedible at the time but it sure tastes good when you are famished later on.

-With no early morning bugle today, Franco is still asleep at 9:30 almost 11 hours later, shows how tired we can get with the routine of the road.

-Many of our group are stoked about keeping their bikes clean, they just get dirty again! I will get mine cleaned in Santiago along with an oil change and new tires.

-Whatsapp- 8/13 of our group use WhatsApp like a kids chat group, the damn thing is going off all the time! I guess I am old school but Helge suggested at the beginning that we use it for important messaging not idle chatter. The trouble is, you never know when something necessary is being communicated so you need to check it. I object but it is personal choice so have not brought it up.

-It is very hard finding ATM's around here and the first two I found with hotel help didn't work, kind of strange in such an affluent town of 620,000; I walked 22 long city blocks and still no luck, finally find one and there is a huge line up, Sacre Bleu! I walk around a large (think Hillside) thoroughly modern mall full of Latin American brand names and found one non-working ATM and nada in the casino either, strange. Next stop 4 blocks later, 'you have entered an invalid amount', what an exercise, now to phone my bank (took 42 minutes on hold)! 32 blocks in all it took but I needed the exercise. I finally figure out that no name Diebold units process local currency withdrawals only. You need an established banking outlet before international transactions can be recognized. It all took 4 hours so glad to have the free day to discover this conundrum.

-Can't write this so don't read it- this must be the underwear capital of Argentina; the store fronts are full of it and the women, a nice blend of European and local are happily showing it off!

-My hair gets scruffy after a month so it was time to lighten up. I am getting pretty good at google mapping so plugged in 'Barber shops in Salta, Argentina' and a mass of red dots lit up my screen. The first two were closed on a Saturday. The next one was managed by a Stern old lady who said come back at three, you can't wait here, goodbye. I walk out and immediately next door is a shop I had not noticed. 23 minutes and 350 pesos (about $22) later, I am good as new. Now this was not an Addis Abbaba experience like last year but the husband/wife team did a pretty good job!

-At 4:30 we had a 3 hour tour conducted by an absolutely lovely young 28 year old gal called Noelia who is about to be married in about a month. She is a good example in the pic below of the fine young women in this town. 

-I have not seen ONE same sex couple embracing or even holding hands since I have been in SA; I do not want to appear biased but this is a welcome relief from home

-there is not a spa or massage service anywhere in our travels, correction, I did get one; in general this is a small business opportunity waiting to happen.

Day 36, Sun, Mar 4th

Hotel Casa Real, Salta to Hotel Belén, Belén, 439 km

Another good but long day in the saddle made up of 4 parts, the last the most exciting.

First off, Debbie had a serious stomach ailment in Salta this morning, possibly a gall bladder attack and had to be taken to hospital. No definitive result as yet but she and Ailene will fly to Santiago and we have trailered her bike. This will give her a few days to recuperate and bypass 4 days on the road.

Section one on Ruta 68, was nice gentle farmland driving through well tended and clean villages some needing a coat of paint; way fewer dogs too. The next section was almost brilliant, much like the Red Rock Sandstone Canyons of Utah. It was marvelous to swish this way and that stopping often for photo ops; I think it lasted about an hour. Section three was wine Vineyards one after the other, nice but not nearly as spectacular.

Section four was the fault of the green line, that damn green line again! It took us into no man's land with people waving no, no at us but we didn't make the connection; a long way, 200 klics from Belen, we (Franco, Vince and I all arriving separately) get to this dead end river crossing, no bridge, fast running water way over our axles. What to do? The locals were helpful, drew us a map that we compared to our own and we were forced to back track, no problem.

We worked ourselves over a one way bridge into and out of a little town called Santa Maria. Again the locals were very helpful. The exciting part came with 3 significant water crossings, two nearly up to our axles through a roadway covered with silt and gravel. I was smart enough to pannier my phone and camera just in case. Standing up on the pegs I just went for it, kinda of a cool experience as long as you don't dump yourself and your bike with the cameras rolling!

So we are here at this nice little joint in the mountains on a Sunday in the middle of nowhere contemplating our longest ride of the trip tomorrow, 621 km!

A few observations;

-saw the FIRST wildlife of the trip cross the road, 2 scrawny deer after 7,500 klics

-ALL the rivers run eastwards towards to Amazon, amazing this close to the westcoast

-I have not seen a rat anywhere, the first 4 countries would be rat heaven, wonder why

- anything less than 2,000 metres ASL is like sea level for me, a godsend

-it was quite a warm day getting to 29.5

- a bloody car came around a blind corner in my lane and scared me for a moment, I was looking for an exit but all okay. 

Day 37, Mon, Mar 5th

Hotel Belén, Belén to Alkazar Hotel, San Juan, 621 km

Of the three trips I have made, today was probably my toughest riding day as a Globerider. Let me try and explain.

When we came in last night to Belen, it was a warm sweaty afternoon, no reason not to expect the same today. Before leaving almost the first out I said to Helge, looks like a nice day out there, yes, Helge says, I think it will be nice day too. Just before 8 am, 623 kilos to go, our longest on this tour, may as well be positive.

The first sense of things was a relatively short thunder and lightning storm that I could see would be in my way. I only got time to put on my top waterproof rain cover and it started to pour down. I got completely soaked on the bottom end and it was a bit eerie working my way through the noise and downpour for about 15 minutes.

Next up was a crosswind, a really strong one. It was literally trying to rip off my 3.5 pound Schuberth helmet. I wanted to stop to get a sense of the wind strength of this monster and then thought "best that I don't know, just deal with it". Sand, dust and all sorts of debris flew across the road, lucky the traffic was quiet. It was in excess of 40 knots with gusts and buffeted the hell out of me, not pleasant.

Finally I turned nearly in to it so it wasn't quite as bad. Soon, however, there was another black cloud up ahead. My lower end had dried out a bit by now so I stopped and put on my extra wet gear, also my XXL  large rubber fishing gloves over my normal ones.

We are 2 hours into about a, 8-9 hour day so just getting started.

Next, the rain starts pouring down, like really pouring, like a flash flood. I come (I think) first to this town called Chilecito and pull in to this nice gas station with a coffee bar and an overhang where I can get out of the deluge and fuel up. The water is running down the streets like a fast running river bouncing off parked vehicles and all sorts of things.

Fifteen minutes later in comes Vince and Linda looking like drowned rats. Now I know what I look like! Vince announces that Linda will dry up and wait for the chase vehicle. By now I am ready to move out again.

There was no breakfast this morning except a bowl of cereal, a banana and a luke warm cafe au lait with some sugar added. I buy a sub sandwich and find out later it is two stale pieces of bread, no butter, no cheese or lettuce and exactly 4 pieces of very thin salami.

This is just a warm up, I am hardly getting started and it is near 11 am.

Navigating out of Chilecito was like hydro planing on a seado in the summer. Water everywhere. I brought my knees up to my elbows at every intersection, through every large water area. It was kind of fun actually because I had not seen anything like this before.

I got out of town and the green line was taking me to the mountains, no surprise. A few twists and turns later I start to climb. I am trying to see through the deluge of rain and fogged visor cover so going quite cautiously. I get to this flashing light road block with a guy there in a stopped car. No officials at that moment to order me around. He is signaling bad road up ahead. It is the green line, I press on.

It is a nice road, I am by myself, the debris is amazing, rocks, gravel, boulders everywhere have poured off the steep slopes. The stuff is strewn all over the place. Only a motorcycle could navigate it.

I press on figuring better to be out in front. On a nice day I can see that the red rock scenery would be fantastic to look at. What I do look at is the raging red rivers that have suddenly sprung up. I kept wondering about all those big, wide empty river beds, wonder when they get active. Well they were active now, raging in fact. It was a flash flood.

I climb to the top elevation gingerly and start coming down the other side. Around a bend, suddenly, there are parked cars and two bike bikes stopped in front of this wide, deep, incredible body of water over 100' long flowing right across the road like river!

As usual, Franco is one step ahead of me and has things mostly cased out, however few options. One guy, a Brazilian called Gustavo was hugely helpful. He was coming the opposite way and had been there for bit less than an hour. He had driven across the washed out road before it got too bad. He was driving a motorbike exactly like ours and I could tell was very experienced.

Another man and his wife were also eager to help. We waited awhile, gathered our courage and Franco elected to have a go at it. The man and his wife would run interference in their vehicle. I said to Gustavo, "I can tell you are way better at this than me, want to have a go at it on my bike, I will travel in the couples car and you can come back with them". He was a bit reluctant but then agreed and through the river they both went up to their axles.

We are now on the other side a say our goodbyes along with big hugs.

Little did we know what awaited us! Three more big crossings and no Gustavo! We get to the next one, just as big as the previous one and there is no choice but to suck it up. You have to be very firm and confident, stand up on the pedals, fix your gaze at a place on the other side and for sure not lose your nerve.

Second one completed and on to the third. This time we have some swagger and away goes Franco; only trouble is, he gets bogged down in a whole bunch of silt towards the far end and over goes the bike and him. In a jiff I plough through the crap, get to the other side and race over to help him lift the bike. Lucky, it starts first time and no harm done except a wet body and frazzled nerves realizing what can happen.

The next one was potentially the worst because the water was rushing so fast we can see and hear the rocks big and small rolling over on the roadway hidden underneath the water; a few cars are waiting too then one big pick up goes for it and we watch him go bumpety bump. Must wait. Franco wades out into the fray and doesn't like what he sees, and feels.

We wait about an hour, it seems to go down a bit, time to give it a try because no turning back. Through we go, high fives, feeling good.

Now we are in a lower valley area and want to believe we are home free. Raging, angry water nearby, no way!

About 20 minutes of nice driving later we come to another immense water crossing, the longest, deepest yet; a dozen vehicles, maybe two dozen humans milling around, waiting. They have seen this movie before. We haven't. I engage every single one of them trying to ascertain the issues but no 'speeky zee eengleesh' leaves me perplexed (my fault entirely). I kind of gather there are 3 to 4 more like this and no one is moving, too dangerous. Time is getting on, how much daylight is left, will we be camping out?

The problem with all of this besides the stress is that we are in up to our eyeballs, on our own, no language facility and it is pretty dangerous stuff. One slip up and the bike can wind up down the river, ruined, gone, trip over, no way of recovery.

Finally a two police guys show up and I get out my all weather national geographic map. I also have my google translate going a bit. Chatter, chatter. It is warming up, rain over but no idea how much more has to come down off the mountains before it all subsides.

Luckily the wife of this older couple arrives and she speaks a bit of English. She is able to translate what the policeman has been trying to tell me all along. There is another route, a new road, much better, no water on it, you have to back track a half hour to Villa Union then take a secondary route south one more hour to Los Baldecitos and then you can get on the road westward to your destination San Juan still 250 klics away after this traverse. The road on my map is a dotted line only so we are putting all of our faith in his recommendation. 

We have been there over an hour and it is now 4:04 pm according to the InReach message I have sent to Helge to let him know whats up. Off we go on a whim and a prayer. Franco needs fuel asap so I get some too and all this wastes precious daylight time with a 2 km traverse to find the stuff in tiny Villa Union.

We race down the secondary road at a speedy rate hoping that we will have a paved road to navigate at dusk. For sure, we do not want to be out in the mountains on gravel after dark.

We get to the turn off and voila, a lovely paved road through a national park; very windy and twisty but glorious scenery. Thanks Mr. Policeman! By this time we were pretty damn tired, the sun is receding faster than we would like and full attention was required so no time for photo ops.

It is 100 further klics to get to our treasured green line detour point. We stop for some cookies and water and a very short break. Franco says "okay Nick, 180 to go, let's get this done! It is now 7:30 ish and off we go taking turns on the lead.

The sunset was truly spectacular, the shadows on the hills made it all worthwhile. Sometime after 9:30 pm and 795 km total distance (approx 170 back tracking km), we got to our hotel.

The others had to detour differently around other wash outs and had arrived a bit earlier. We were a lot further ahead and had wired back the problems so that they could adjust. I could tell Helge was pretty proud of our efforts and ability to get out of the mess.

Case closed on a great day albeit a little taxing for Nick and Franco! 

Day 38, Tue, Mar 6th

Alkazar Hotel, San Juan to Hotel Valle Andina, Upsallata, 286 km

After an adventure filled escapade yesterday it was sure nice to have an easy day to Upsallata today in preparation for our border crossing into Chile tomorrow.

Day 39, Wed, Mar 7th

Hotel Valle Andina, Upsallata, Argentina to Crown Plaza Hotel, Santiago, Chile 258 km

Today's ride while not overly long was exhausting with its ups and downs and very significant twists and turns. 

Most, might I say all people transit Argentina into Chile via an excellent highway system through a series of huge, long tunnels bored through several Mountain ranges. Not us!

Helge wanted us to see the Aconcagua Mountain up close and personal; at 23,000 feet, it is the the highest one in South America. This is all weather dependant of course and this day was a beauty.

Our hotels lately have been of the low budget type. Breakfast has been pretty much non existent- stale bread, luke warm coffee, no fruit or cereal, occasionally rubberized scrambled eggs but not today.

Anyway, off we go in a high rate of anticipation and excitement because Helge has us primed for a spectacular viewing day but one full of dirt road challenge climbing up and down a significant Mountain range.

We stop at several viewing points, an old, old hotsprings, the bottom of a ski hill, a viewpoint of the Aconcagua Mountain complete with a helicopter coming and going to assist climbers. It is booked so the $500 per seat ride is not available.

Finally we get a to the off track bit. I am not sure I can adequately describe it. It was a half hour of steep, uphill switch backs in first gear the whole way. Each switch back which I may as well say were effectively about 350 degree turns had its own peculiarities of dirt, gravel, stones of varying sizes and nerve jangling challenges as you negotiated each one standing up on the pegs at slow speed.

It was quite a challenge. One bike went down on an uphill turn but no damage done. We finally summitted to a spectacular viewpoint with Chile on one side and Argentina on the other, the top of the world so to speak.

After the best hot chocolate I ever tasted (it was a bit cold and starting to get windy at about 9 am) we ventured down the other side.

Aside: quite a few stops to take photos and enjoy the special moment, also time to catch a breath and calm the nerves.

It is usually easier going 'up' because you can control the momentum of your bike. This was no exception. Going down was quite a bit more gravelly and some of the rocks on the turns were 2-3 inches in size; clipping one of these on your front tire could put you down in an instant.

The downhill portion was the toughest and seemed to take forever- lots of gravel build up on the turns too. We were all successful with no mishaps. Getting to the bottom felt like Canucks winning the Stanley Cup.

From here we progressed to an easy border crossing and then lunch at a famous ski hill called Portillo. Top world cup racers come here in the off season to train because their winter is our summer.

I left first to beat the late afternoon rush hour into Santiago which is a city of 7.5 mm in a country of 18 mm people. It was a 100 miles of increasing heat and I was glad to arrive at our plush hotel at the relatively late time of 5 pm. It was a tough but exhilarating day.

Day 40, Thur, Mar 8th

Hotel Crown Plaza, Santiago, 0 km

Great breakfast, finally! Dash through traffic to the Motoventura shop for oil, tires and service. A mile short I stop at the BMW dealership, the best one I have ever been to.

It is combined cars (80% of sales) and bikes because there are a lot of big motorcycles around here with a terrific showroom and accessories. I buy a new bag because my old one is worn out and the zipper is tapioca.

The people could not be more friendly either. Nicolas one of the service reps and Sebastian who speaks great english are super helpful and get my bike signed in right away.

I run up to Motoventura to buy tires, come back and the bike goes into the shop. The start/stop switch is being replaced on manufacturers warranty and this is the second time because the first one got gummed up in Namibia last year and BMW has finally realized that they have a defect here. It is also discovered that the brake pads are 75% worn and I don't even use them much (I like to gear down with the engine as much as possible to slow my speed). 

They invite me down to the 12 Bay motorbike service shop in the basement which is like a hospital operating room theater to inspect the brake pads. Here is a pic with Sebastian in the background:

Sebastian and I became fast friends and we walked to lunch down the road. He is married, 33, has his MBA and wants to own his own business perhaps in a motorcycle field. He is a very accomplished and competitive enduro/  motocross rider and owns 3 bikes, just a delightful guy with a big heart. He is off with his team next week to Machu Picchu on an all expenses paid BMW trip for superior performance and I understand why.

So a new bag is $263, the tires are $518, some new tools are $254 and the service is $1140 US, the cost of doing business on a trip like this and well worth it.

We have 9200 km under our belts having completed 26 riding days excluding days off (11); 4600 klics to go over 17 riding days and very few off days. Time to get this on the road as it has been 10 days and the internet signal is good. I am not sure what it will be like down in isolated Patagonia. Thanks for reading along, hope you enjoy this rather intense missive at least for me! Best, NG