Saturday Jan 21
A nice short ride today (actually I can’t remember the last
long ride we have taken). We leave the lush jungle of the Amazon and begin
climbing back into the Andes. We ride through the town of Shell. Shell Oil
built this town but when none of their wells produced they abandoned the town
and airstrip. Then the missionaries came in and began flying further into the
Amazon from here. A number of years ago 5 Missionaries from here flew into the
Amazon, landed on a sandbar and were promptly speared to death. I guess the
locals didn’t like what they heard.
Anyway the building they had lived in is somewhat a shrine to the other
missionaries in the area. From there we followed a river canyon towards Banos.
About 20 miles out of Banos the road gets interesting and we ride through a
series of tunnels, some very narrow.
Not as much fun now that they have installed lights. Last time I was through them we were driving these little dune buggy things that had no lights into these dark tunnels with trucks and busses coming at us and bearing down from behind. Kind of scary! Coming into town I began recognizing the layout from last time we were here and went straight to the hostel Max and Sara stayed at (Princessa Maria). We knew from before it was a good hostel with parking for the bikes.
 |
| Max, John and the Talopia Guy |
Not as much fun now that they have installed lights. Last time I was through them we were driving these little dune buggy things that had no lights into these dark tunnels with trucks and busses coming at us and bearing down from behind. Kind of scary! Coming into town I began recognizing the layout from last time we were here and went straight to the hostel Max and Sara stayed at (Princessa Maria). We knew from before it was a good hostel with parking for the bikes.
When we pulled up the owner and his son were there at the
gate waiting for us so we pulled right in. The owner recognized Max from before
which is quite amazing judging by the number of people that pass through here.
Sunday
We were awakened early
(4:30) by the hoards of people setting up the Sunday market, located
right outside our window. I don’t remember mentioning it before but everyone in
Latin America has a car alarm and I don’t think any of them know how to turn
the alarms off! It get pretty load down here at times. Anyhow John and I go out
looking for a good cup of Jo with no luck. Nothing opens until 8:30. Finally we
find a lousy cup of coffee served with a lousy breakfast. Off to a bad start of
the day. Today I catch up on the blog and photos. 6 hours later (I type slow)
I’m finally caught up! Now it’s time to find a bar with a big screen and 49’ers game. John and I go looking but
it being Sunday hardly any bars are open. We find one with a small TV showing
soccer and decide to give it a try. The owners we very accommodating even
though we got some dirty looks from some locals. I must mention the crazy cop. Still not sure what this guy
was about but he was sitting with a number of others at the table next to our and
judging by the number of empties on their table they must have been hammered.
He kept coming over to our table smiling and babbling on in Spanish shacking
our hands and showing us a card showing he was a police officer. Each time he
came over he was more animated than the last. Shortly before leaving he stopped
by wanting to shack hands with each of us and giving us all a kiss on our
cheek. Had this been the US it would have been obvious what he wanted but down
here I think he just wanted to pass along some good feelings towards the
visitors. The TV was very small (by today’s standards) and it all was in
Spanish, but we were able to kind of follow the game. Heartbreak! The 9ers
lose.
Monday Jan 23
Travel day. While packing up the bikes at our hostel a guy
comes up to me and says, ” Good morning, how is your wife?” I wasn’t sure how this guy was
and being the suspicious type I went on guard for some sort of scam. I replied
my wife is good and he must have seen by my expression I had no idea who he
was. “Do you remember me from the Archipelago?” he says. I’m thinking
“Archipelago, Archipelago, why does this sound familiar?” then it hits me, the
Archipelago was the name of the boat we were on 2 years ago in the Galapagos.
Turns out this was Enrico, the guy who was assigned to Charlotte to help her on
the hikes because of her bad foot. I had told him my son and I were planning on
riding our bikes down here from Alaska in a few years. So when he saw our bikes
and Max and I he put it all together and recognized me. What a small world! He
is still sailing around the Galapagos but was between trips and on the mainland
visiting his girlfriend. We had a good visit then it was time for us shove off.
Max (who is perpetually starving on this trip ) wanted breakfast before
leaving. But alas nothing was open. Leaving town I missed a turn and we ended
up on a road heading north. But we eventually got back on track without losing
too much time.
The first part of the road is pretty spectacular winding its way high above a river valley then turns ho hum with small towns and speed bumps. Somewhere south of Riobamba our trouble started. First we stop at a little resturant with a Soup Nazi like cook. After and lousy lunch he turns around and charges us $14 for the meal which should have cost us maybe $8. Shortly after leaving max gets a flat rear tire (1st of the trip). So we jump into action. Surly Max will have a spare tube with all his shit. Not! Just a spare front tube. An hour later we had a new tire with a patched tube back on the bike ready to go with me yelling at Max to forget fine tuning his chain and let’s get out of here (we were on the side of the Pan American Highway with a very narrow shoulder)! While getting my bike off the stand it falls over for the umphteenth time. This causes me to vow to get this shitty kickstand fixed at my first opportunity (remember this, it plays into the story later).
As we continue on I also notice my clutch acting weird, especially riding through towns. At first I think it’s in my head but it got progressively worse as the day went until it was slipping badly. We pulled into Cuenca just as the light was beginning to fade. Dufas wasn’t working so we winged it toward the center of the city during rush hour. I stopped at the first hostel I found but they couldn’t provide safe parking for the bikes. So goes the routine. John stays with the bikes and Max and I go looking for a place on foot. We walked up to the next corner turned left and bingo, there was Carolines Bookstore. Charlotte and I found this place 2 years ago when we were in Cuenca. It is the hub, information center and hang out for all the expats down here. They were just closing but I caught the owner just as he was walking out. He suggested a place right across the street. The owner was just coming out of the hostel and informed us yes she had room and yes she had parking! Amazing how easy it is sometimes. That night I put a post on Adventure Rider asking about BMW shops in Ecuador that might be able to replace a clutch. I also sent the BMW shop in Guayaquil an email asking about parts availability.
 |
| Leaving Banos |
The first part of the road is pretty spectacular winding its way high above a river valley then turns ho hum with small towns and speed bumps. Somewhere south of Riobamba our trouble started. First we stop at a little resturant with a Soup Nazi like cook. After and lousy lunch he turns around and charges us $14 for the meal which should have cost us maybe $8. Shortly after leaving max gets a flat rear tire (1st of the trip). So we jump into action. Surly Max will have a spare tube with all his shit. Not! Just a spare front tube. An hour later we had a new tire with a patched tube back on the bike ready to go with me yelling at Max to forget fine tuning his chain and let’s get out of here (we were on the side of the Pan American Highway with a very narrow shoulder)! While getting my bike off the stand it falls over for the umphteenth time. This causes me to vow to get this shitty kickstand fixed at my first opportunity (remember this, it plays into the story later).
 |
| I like this shot of Max taking a picture and a woman with her donkey walk by |
As we continue on I also notice my clutch acting weird, especially riding through towns. At first I think it’s in my head but it got progressively worse as the day went until it was slipping badly. We pulled into Cuenca just as the light was beginning to fade. Dufas wasn’t working so we winged it toward the center of the city during rush hour. I stopped at the first hostel I found but they couldn’t provide safe parking for the bikes. So goes the routine. John stays with the bikes and Max and I go looking for a place on foot. We walked up to the next corner turned left and bingo, there was Carolines Bookstore. Charlotte and I found this place 2 years ago when we were in Cuenca. It is the hub, information center and hang out for all the expats down here. They were just closing but I caught the owner just as he was walking out. He suggested a place right across the street. The owner was just coming out of the hostel and informed us yes she had room and yes she had parking! Amazing how easy it is sometimes. That night I put a post on Adventure Rider asking about BMW shops in Ecuador that might be able to replace a clutch. I also sent the BMW shop in Guayaquil an email asking about parts availability.
Tuesday
John and I are up and out looking for coffee at 7. No luck
with the coffee that early but we do have a good walk around the old part of
town. Cuenca is a UNESCO heritage
site and has an incredible historic district dating back to the 1500’s. The
main square is very old with large building surrounding it covered with ornate designs. After walking around until 9 we finally found a coffee shop open.
Wednesday Jan 25
Max’s bike is ready. A nice birthday present for him. John
and I tour the Panama hat factory. More of a store than a factory but still
interesting. We go to dinner at a Mexican restaurant run by an old folk hippy
that plays nothing but old Beatles music on the stereo. But what catches my eye
is the quart of Hendricks Gin on the shelf. Gin is a rare commodity down here
and Hendricks is unheard of! When the waiter, who is also the son of the owner,
asks what I want to drink, with out hesitation, I respond “Hendricks, with a
splash of tonic”. “Not possible” is his response. Por Que? Is my response. “This
is a special gift for my farther and is not for sell”. Are you kidding me? It’s
sitting out here for all to see and I can’t have one cocktail? “No”. All right I’ll
have a Tanquary instead. “No, this also is a special gift for my father” at
this I would not take no for an answer and after the son consulted with his
hippy father it was agreed to allow me one T&T this evening. After dinner
Max wants to have some birthday shot so we stop in at a bar and order two shots
of tequila. $14! Unbelievable!
Thursday
On the rode 8:30. Cloudy but not too much fog. Heading for
the border. The Ktm is still running like shit at altidtude but the road is great and we are having fun. we wind up over many
passes and the surrounding hills reminds me of the alps.Lots of switch backs keeps the ride interesting. We then turn south toward the border and the road
turns to shit. After our lunch stop we decide not to cross border until tomorrow. I stopped to take some pictures and we all got a bit spread out for awhile. Riding alone was kind of nice. I found myself much more relaxed not having to check the mirrors every few minutes (this is a self imposed habit I have developed stemming from Johns lack of experence and Max's lack of a dependable bike). My worries about my previous clutch worries have evaporated and all is good at this moment in time. We arrive
at the Peru border around 5. We find a hostel in the town of Macara, kind of a sleepy, grungie town but not as bad as other
borders. What made this town more interesting was that it had an airstrip right in the middle of town. Max and I go out to see what this place is about and finds his coconut. I'm too tired to eat much so I just snack on some peanuts and go to bed.
Friday
After herding the cats this morning we get to the border
around 8:45. Exiting Ecuador was a breeze. No lines and good directions got the
bikes and us out of there in 15 minutes. We crossed the bridge into Peru and
were met by officials who directed us where to park, where to go for our
passport entry stamps and where to go to import our bikes, all within stones
throw from each other.
When I began the import process the guy tells me we need insurance before starting the paper work and points to where we have to go. Again just stones throw away. We all go get the insurance and while we are gone the official actually takes the initiative and gets all our VIN numbers of the bikes saving us the time to go out with him and get them. This might seem trivial but after somewhere around 9 border crossings this is the first time I would call the process efficient! All and all I was completely done in under an hour and all of us were through in less than an hour and a half. A new record unlikely to be beat on this trip! The ride today took us South from Macara through Loja over to Sullana ending at a little fishing/ Surfing town Pinental. This town appears not to have it’s potential yet. It has everything it needs to prosper as a tourist destination except the infrastructure. A great beach with good surf. Good climate and lots of restaurants. What it lacks are hotels of hostels. The one hotel by the beach we checked out has been converted to a few offices and a number of banos’. The place reeked of urine! The only other hotel looked as if it was moved from some war zone in the Middle East. Broken windows, doors missing etc.
On our first reconnaissance of the area we passed by a communal looking place a ways from the main beach area. It looked as though some acidhead had an idea years ago of building a commune on the beach. Unfortunately the drugs and the booze kind of stymied any hope of finishing the project. Well it turns out this will be our only hope of lodging here. For $8 apiece we get our very own bamboo/Concrete pyramid. Very rustic but did have a toilet, although no running water. The owner spiced up the deal with a offer of a cerviche dish and one free beer each at his restaurant on the beach so we had a deal! The restaurant was a small disappointment. We had to order 3 times before the order actually went in and they also tried to stick us with the cerviche dish.
But to give them the benefit of the doubt this may be there busy night. After all there were three of us in there! There were no screens or any kind of bug protection in the pyramid so fortunately it was cool enough to completely immerse my body in my bag liner for protection. Mr. Briner didn’t fair as well.
When I began the import process the guy tells me we need insurance before starting the paper work and points to where we have to go. Again just stones throw away. We all go get the insurance and while we are gone the official actually takes the initiative and gets all our VIN numbers of the bikes saving us the time to go out with him and get them. This might seem trivial but after somewhere around 9 border crossings this is the first time I would call the process efficient! All and all I was completely done in under an hour and all of us were through in less than an hour and a half. A new record unlikely to be beat on this trip! The ride today took us South from Macara through Loja over to Sullana ending at a little fishing/ Surfing town Pinental. This town appears not to have it’s potential yet. It has everything it needs to prosper as a tourist destination except the infrastructure. A great beach with good surf. Good climate and lots of restaurants. What it lacks are hotels of hostels. The one hotel by the beach we checked out has been converted to a few offices and a number of banos’. The place reeked of urine! The only other hotel looked as if it was moved from some war zone in the Middle East. Broken windows, doors missing etc.
 |
| Our own pyramid for the night |
On our first reconnaissance of the area we passed by a communal looking place a ways from the main beach area. It looked as though some acidhead had an idea years ago of building a commune on the beach. Unfortunately the drugs and the booze kind of stymied any hope of finishing the project. Well it turns out this will be our only hope of lodging here. For $8 apiece we get our very own bamboo/Concrete pyramid. Very rustic but did have a toilet, although no running water. The owner spiced up the deal with a offer of a cerviche dish and one free beer each at his restaurant on the beach so we had a deal! The restaurant was a small disappointment. We had to order 3 times before the order actually went in and they also tried to stick us with the cerviche dish.
 |
| Waiting for the bill |
But to give them the benefit of the doubt this may be there busy night. After all there were three of us in there! There were no screens or any kind of bug protection in the pyramid so fortunately it was cool enough to completely immerse my body in my bag liner for protection. Mr. Briner didn’t fair as well.
Saturday
Up with the sun and rode to the main beach area for
breakfast. Ummm, instant coffee and scrambled eggs. Max went for a jog in
search of internet. More KTM business. After losing his air mixture screw the
mechanic in Cuenca plugged it with a regular screw and the bike is suffering
for it. Hopefully we’ll remedy that in Lima. After breakfast we went back to
the compound to settle up on dinner the night before and after another ½ hour
we are back on the rode riding south. Today we ride down to another surfing
town of Huanchaco that we heard was kind of laid back. We quickly found a nice
hotel, if not a little over budget. Not much to write about. A good shower,
good dinner and a comfortable room.
Sunday
The push for Lima….
We get an early start for Lima but Dufas’s maps aren’t working well in
Peru. I make the mistake of trying to follow the GPS route out of town, which
is a straight diagonal line through the middle of Trujillo. After a half hour
of dodging one-way streets and dead ends I find our way to the Panamerican Sur
and we are off and running.
The scenery has change to dry arid sand with small dunes all around us. The ride is going well and it looks like we will get to Lima around 3. Even after getting pulled over twice by Peruvian Cop (the crooked type) it still look good for a 4:00 arrival. We had been warned by numerous people about the cops in Peru but beings how we had made it this far without problems I was beginning to think they had exaggerated the stories. We found out different. With Max leading we came up over a rise and there were 2 cops waving us over. They told us we had crossed the double line while passing a truck. Well, the truth be known, we had and whether or not they actually saw it was beside the point. All they wanted was lunch money (they actually said as much). So after playing the game we ended up giving them about $20 and went on our way only to be stopped again for speeding.
Again Max was at the lead and a cop was going the other way. He motioned to me to slow down, which I did but somewhere down the road turned around, lights flashing and pulled us over. This time we played it differently, telling them to write us the ticket and we would pay it in Lima. “No can pay in Lima, you must go back to Trujillo”. This would mean going all the way back to where we started the day. Max then ask him what proof they had. Did they have radar? That’s when he pulls out a video camera and shows Max the video of them following him showing Max in front then scanning down to the speedometer showing a speed over the limit. “ Are you kidding? This only shows you were over the limit not Max”. Anyway this went on for a ½ hour or so.
These guys playing good cop, bad cop and not very well I might add. Finally we out lasted them and the good cop tells the bad cop to forget it and let them go. Max was determined not to pay these guys anything as was I but my resolve was fading and I was actually going for my wallet when they decided to end the game and let us go.
After flying into Lima to meet Charlotte a number of weeks
before I had a fairly bad impression as to what we were riding into. From the
air Lima looks like a desert wasteland covered by adobe shacks and small
streets. It really looks as if my ultimate nightmare is about to unfold today.
On the way there we stopped for fuel and met 5 or 6 guys riding these 650 Chinese
v twins ala Harley style. They were a friendly bunch of guys who helped us out
on directions. One guy kept saying “ whatever you do don’t go here or don’t go
there, too dangerous!” I wish I
paid a little more attention but I never did figure out where he was talking
about. At about 4:30 we are just getting to the outskirts of Lima and I notice
Max and John are no longer with me. Turning back I find them a few miles bake
on the side of the road.
Max has gotten his second flat of the trip. This time we have a new tube to put on and we are back on the rode within 45 minutes. As we ride into Lima from the north my first impressions are realized. It is abject poverty. People living in these small one-room adobe shacks crowed together forming various barrios. But as we get nearer to our destination of Mears Flores the city becomes more and more modern until we could be riding in the suburbs of Los Angles. By the time it became dark we had found a hostel to stay at and another one for our bikes. Oh yea I almost forgot to mention I was sick all day. We went out for dinner and all I could stomach was a frozen fruit smoothie.
 |
| Along the Peruvian Coast |
The scenery has change to dry arid sand with small dunes all around us. The ride is going well and it looks like we will get to Lima around 3. Even after getting pulled over twice by Peruvian Cop (the crooked type) it still look good for a 4:00 arrival. We had been warned by numerous people about the cops in Peru but beings how we had made it this far without problems I was beginning to think they had exaggerated the stories. We found out different. With Max leading we came up over a rise and there were 2 cops waving us over. They told us we had crossed the double line while passing a truck. Well, the truth be known, we had and whether or not they actually saw it was beside the point. All they wanted was lunch money (they actually said as much). So after playing the game we ended up giving them about $20 and went on our way only to be stopped again for speeding.
 |
| Some Peruvian Moto guys we met at a gas stop. All are riding Chinese 650 v twins |
Again Max was at the lead and a cop was going the other way. He motioned to me to slow down, which I did but somewhere down the road turned around, lights flashing and pulled us over. This time we played it differently, telling them to write us the ticket and we would pay it in Lima. “No can pay in Lima, you must go back to Trujillo”. This would mean going all the way back to where we started the day. Max then ask him what proof they had. Did they have radar? That’s when he pulls out a video camera and shows Max the video of them following him showing Max in front then scanning down to the speedometer showing a speed over the limit. “ Are you kidding? This only shows you were over the limit not Max”. Anyway this went on for a ½ hour or so.
 |
| Rest stop |
These guys playing good cop, bad cop and not very well I might add. Finally we out lasted them and the good cop tells the bad cop to forget it and let them go. Max was determined not to pay these guys anything as was I but my resolve was fading and I was actually going for my wallet when they decided to end the game and let us go.
 |
| Max and John talking to the "Good Cop" |
 |
| Max fixing his 2nd flat in as many weeks |
Max has gotten his second flat of the trip. This time we have a new tube to put on and we are back on the rode within 45 minutes. As we ride into Lima from the north my first impressions are realized. It is abject poverty. People living in these small one-room adobe shacks crowed together forming various barrios. But as we get nearer to our destination of Mears Flores the city becomes more and more modern until we could be riding in the suburbs of Los Angles. By the time it became dark we had found a hostel to stay at and another one for our bikes. Oh yea I almost forgot to mention I was sick all day. We went out for dinner and all I could stomach was a frozen fruit smoothie.
 |
| Down the street from where we stayed in Miraflores Lima |
Monday
Ah, another KTM day!
After much research we find that there are two KTM dealers
in Lima. We go in search of the first one. Turns out google maps had the pin on
the wrong street and we have to get a cab to follow to find the correct one 4
miles back through town. The shop is located in an unmarked warehouse that
houses a bank of computers and people working away on “KTM business”. A number
of new bikes are scattered around but we figure it’s just for show as a cover
to whatever the primary business is. Long story short the guy is a prick and no
help at all. Next we go the BMW shop and get a new front tire for me. Very
expensive but available. Next we go to another shop that has been recommended
to us on the outside chance they may have KTM parts. It’s a small shop but they
do have a KTM, same year and motor as Max’s. We try our best to talk the guy
into pulling the airscrew off of their bike and using it on Max’s bike but are
told it’s not their bike. That doesn’t stop us from working the poor guy over.
Finally the owner shows up. Ricardo is a big Austrian look guy who races bikes
here in Peru. Must be pretty good since he’s been champion 3 years running.
After awhile he begins to warm up to us and takes a real interest in our
problem. After a few phone calls and conferences with his mechanic he tells us
not to worry he’ll fix everything. Max’s KTM John’s broken pannier bracket and
they will even mount my new front tire. To good to be true, stayed tuned…. So
we grab a cab back to Meriflores to a mall Ricardo recommended for food.
Miraflores is an upscale part of town that sits high on a bluff overlooking the ocean. This mall is amazing! It’s built below the cliff so when you drive or walk by it you don’t see it. Once you walk down to it it’s like you are suspended over the ocean. It’s got a number of very nice restaurants but one catches our eye.
Tony Romas! After months in 3rd world countries eating only local food the chance to eat at an American chain was truly overwhelming. Of course I am still a little punky but manage to eat something small while watching John and Max chow down a couple of good looking steaks. While dinning a couple of parasailers drift by then a couple of more until they are flying all around us. This gets both Max and John salivating to go fly so after lunch we walk over to where they are launching. The launch is is pretty simple. One, two and you are totally committed over the cliff! Once up you just begin climbing and they can soar back and forth along the cliff at ease. They land where they take off from so no climbing or transport needed. My kind of operation! The boys are stoked to fly! Unfortunately the following afternoon provides no wind and lots of fog, so no go.
 |
| My attempt at art. A sculpture with two paragliders sailing by |
Miraflores is an upscale part of town that sits high on a bluff overlooking the ocean. This mall is amazing! It’s built below the cliff so when you drive or walk by it you don’t see it. Once you walk down to it it’s like you are suspended over the ocean. It’s got a number of very nice restaurants but one catches our eye.
 |
| More Meraflores |
Tony Romas! After months in 3rd world countries eating only local food the chance to eat at an American chain was truly overwhelming. Of course I am still a little punky but manage to eat something small while watching John and Max chow down a couple of good looking steaks. While dinning a couple of parasailers drift by then a couple of more until they are flying all around us. This gets both Max and John salivating to go fly so after lunch we walk over to where they are launching. The launch is is pretty simple. One, two and you are totally committed over the cliff! Once up you just begin climbing and they can soar back and forth along the cliff at ease. They land where they take off from so no climbing or transport needed. My kind of operation! The boys are stoked to fly! Unfortunately the following afternoon provides no wind and lots of fog, so no go.
Tuesday
Max and I walk to mall and grab some coffee. Next we grab a
cab to take us all the way across town to the BMW dealer where yours truly left
his debit card then back to Motoperformance for the bikes. They are all ready
and clean! For Max’s bike they found an airscrew for another bike, took it to a
machine shop and turned it to match the original screw exactly (they did pull
the original screw out of the KTM they had on consignment to get the specs
from). All and all Max’s bike cost $40, mine $15 and Johns $20. Got to love
labor rates down here! Another great dinner at the mall and another hole in my
budget!
Some pictures...
Wed.
More trouble getting out of town. Dufas just doesn’t get
Peru. Finally we are back on the Panamerican Sur . It’s foggy and cold by the
coast but begins to warm up as we go inland. The sand dunes eventually give way
to vineyards.
At our lunch stop a fellow bike rider from California spots us and stops in for a chat. Jay has been riding his 650 GS alone and is on his way to Brazil to live for a few months. Since he’s going our way he asks if he could ride with us. “Hell Yes” we all respond a little too fast. I’m guessing we could all use some new blood around the campfire. Our route takes us past the Nazca Lines (the lines in the desert that can be seen from space). No one knows for sure the significance of the lines but best guess is that some Pre Inca people put them there to try to communicate with their gods. It really is amazing that these marks in the sand (really just scratched in the dirt) a thousand years ago and still can be seen from the 100-meter tower we climbed up.
The big business is taking you up in a plane and seeing the whole thing from the air but since this is a motorcycle trip not a flying trip we declined the numerous offers we got. We found a place in Nazca for the night (actually they found us. We hadn’t even made it through the first intersection when a guy pulls up and leads us to his hotel). That’s how it works in these tourist towns. While looking for a place to eat we are approached by Edwin, the owner of the towns “finest restaurant’. He even offers us a money back guarantee if we don’t like the food. It turns out to be a great choice and we end up with Edwin at our table with tells of his vast travels around the world.
He has lived in India, Afghanistan, America, Europe and Asia. He has had a different wife in each country and catered to the Dakar people this year. He had to provide tents, tables, chairs, food and wine to 200 people out in the middle of the desert. He even had pictures to proof it!
 |
| Jay, a fellow rider who rode with us for a few days |
At our lunch stop a fellow bike rider from California spots us and stops in for a chat. Jay has been riding his 650 GS alone and is on his way to Brazil to live for a few months. Since he’s going our way he asks if he could ride with us. “Hell Yes” we all respond a little too fast. I’m guessing we could all use some new blood around the campfire. Our route takes us past the Nazca Lines (the lines in the desert that can be seen from space). No one knows for sure the significance of the lines but best guess is that some Pre Inca people put them there to try to communicate with their gods. It really is amazing that these marks in the sand (really just scratched in the dirt) a thousand years ago and still can be seen from the 100-meter tower we climbed up.
The big business is taking you up in a plane and seeing the whole thing from the air but since this is a motorcycle trip not a flying trip we declined the numerous offers we got. We found a place in Nazca for the night (actually they found us. We hadn’t even made it through the first intersection when a guy pulls up and leads us to his hotel). That’s how it works in these tourist towns. While looking for a place to eat we are approached by Edwin, the owner of the towns “finest restaurant’. He even offers us a money back guarantee if we don’t like the food. It turns out to be a great choice and we end up with Edwin at our table with tells of his vast travels around the world.
 |
| Nasca Lines |
He has lived in India, Afghanistan, America, Europe and Asia. He has had a different wife in each country and catered to the Dakar people this year. He had to provide tents, tables, chairs, food and wine to 200 people out in the middle of the desert. He even had pictures to proof it!
Thursday
Today we all sleep in a little and Max cooks us breakfast.
Max keeps insisting that there is no way to cook breakfast (a meal he can’t
miss) and still leave early. He has proved this time and time again!). Max is
also now on a hunt for KTM parts. His starter is going out again and we are
back to push starting the bike again. After calling numerous shops he finds one
in Chillan, Chile that claims to have what we think we need.
So we set our sights on Chile! Either the bike is running better or the team is getting better at push starting but I haven’t had to do a pull start since the last starter gave out. We ride down the coast on Ruta 1 to Camana. Camana looked like a cool beach town but riding through it proved to be just another dirty, dusty town with no soul. About the time I gave up on it and began riding out of town a couple of sportbikes ride up and beckon us to follow them. We followed them a couple of miles south of town then turn towards the beach and there it is .the “beach town”. The riders own one of the bars there and show us to a nice hotel nearby. After fleshing up we walk back to the bar (actually just a shack on the beach the serves beer and whisky). I order up a shot of tequila and some guy runs across the street and brings one back for me. And so went the night….
So we set our sights on Chile! Either the bike is running better or the team is getting better at push starting but I haven’t had to do a pull start since the last starter gave out. We ride down the coast on Ruta 1 to Camana. Camana looked like a cool beach town but riding through it proved to be just another dirty, dusty town with no soul. About the time I gave up on it and began riding out of town a couple of sportbikes ride up and beckon us to follow them. We followed them a couple of miles south of town then turn towards the beach and there it is .the “beach town”. The riders own one of the bars there and show us to a nice hotel nearby. After fleshing up we walk back to the bar (actually just a shack on the beach the serves beer and whisky). I order up a shot of tequila and some guy runs across the street and brings one back for me. And so went the night….
Friday
Friday
Today we run for the border. More desert riding. Jay is
still with us adding a bit of newness to the trip. We rode into the town of
Tacna. We decide to stay here for the night and make for the border first thing
in the morning. We stop to check out some hostels but they don’t have secure
parking so we decide to head to the central part of town and guess whose bike
won’t start?
OK try again… That’s right the KTM is dead. No juice in the battery. Now I didn’t slam my helmet down this time but did use a few choice words to describe my inner most feelings of the situation. Then rode off in search of a hotel with parking. I hadn’t ridden 2 blocks when I spied a hotel and a Honda shop a block away. It being close to closing time I quickly returned to the scene of the crime and told Max to start pushing the KTM to the Honda shop. At the shop they tested the battery and decided that was the problem. They had a new one and all was well, although I had questions about the charging system, which would prove right later the next day. John and Jay found us a place with parking in a garage a few blocks away so all was good again. John also found a Hoff Brau and brewpub in the Lonely Planet so that’s where we headed. We new the street but not what end of town but the cabbie took a guess and landed us at the doorsteps.
Well they had tons of beers on display but unfortunately only had one in stock. And no roast beef sandwiches! Down here I guess you can call yourself anything you want and get away with it. Across the street there was a fancy hotel and restaurant so that’s where we ate.
 |
| Another stop for the KTM |
OK try again… That’s right the KTM is dead. No juice in the battery. Now I didn’t slam my helmet down this time but did use a few choice words to describe my inner most feelings of the situation. Then rode off in search of a hotel with parking. I hadn’t ridden 2 blocks when I spied a hotel and a Honda shop a block away. It being close to closing time I quickly returned to the scene of the crime and told Max to start pushing the KTM to the Honda shop. At the shop they tested the battery and decided that was the problem. They had a new one and all was well, although I had questions about the charging system, which would prove right later the next day. John and Jay found us a place with parking in a garage a few blocks away so all was good again. John also found a Hoff Brau and brewpub in the Lonely Planet so that’s where we headed. We new the street but not what end of town but the cabbie took a guess and landed us at the doorsteps.
 |
| View from our hotel. Cool art on a hill. |
Well they had tons of beers on display but unfortunately only had one in stock. And no roast beef sandwiches! Down here I guess you can call yourself anything you want and get away with it. Across the street there was a fancy hotel and restaurant so that’s where we ate.
Saturday Feb 4
Border crossing today and as usual I’m feeling a little
stressed. Even though we have moved from the 3rd world into the 2nd
world the borders still stress me out. Maybe it’s the bad memories from Central
America, I don’t know. Anyway it’s the usual breakfast fight with Max and a
later start than I wanted but we are at the border around 11. This is a very
friendly border but with lots more paperwork than usual. While going through
the process a couple pulled up on a KLR.
Paula and Noel are from Vancouver BC and had shipped their bike down to Lima. What a nightmare they have been through. It took a week to clear customs with the bike then while they were in Puno Peru they got their tank bag stolen. No big deal except all their documents, cameras, laptop and other important things were in it. They eventually got most of their documents but not the cameras or laptop. Oh yea and they lost a GPS. After we all cleared customs we all drove into Arica to get a bit to eat. While sitting at the restaurant I pull out my iphone and noted we had just had a time zone change. 2 hours! Shit it was now 4:30 in the afternoon, which meant time to find lodging. Oh well today we rode a whooping 30 miles! So one beer turned to two and then we went looking for a hostel. Now we are 5 motos roaming around a strange city.
We finally find a sleazy looking hostel that turns out to be pretty nice once you get through the dirty façade of the building and they have parking! We have been spoiled in both Colombia and Peru as bikes were exempt from rode tolls.
All the major highways down here are toll roads. But now in Chile we have to pay! Works out to about $15 a day and the hassle of stopping and having to dig the money out while straddling a Moto with gloves on. Oh well, it pays for these beautiful highways which makes it almost worthwhile.
 |
| 2 more desert sculptures. No idea what they mean |
Paula and Noel are from Vancouver BC and had shipped their bike down to Lima. What a nightmare they have been through. It took a week to clear customs with the bike then while they were in Puno Peru they got their tank bag stolen. No big deal except all their documents, cameras, laptop and other important things were in it. They eventually got most of their documents but not the cameras or laptop. Oh yea and they lost a GPS. After we all cleared customs we all drove into Arica to get a bit to eat. While sitting at the restaurant I pull out my iphone and noted we had just had a time zone change. 2 hours! Shit it was now 4:30 in the afternoon, which meant time to find lodging. Oh well today we rode a whooping 30 miles! So one beer turned to two and then we went looking for a hostel. Now we are 5 motos roaming around a strange city.
 |
| Ah yes, a familiar site, towing the KTM in Arica |
We finally find a sleazy looking hostel that turns out to be pretty nice once you get through the dirty façade of the building and they have parking! We have been spoiled in both Colombia and Peru as bikes were exempt from rode tolls.
 |
| I think we made a wrong turn! |
All the major highways down here are toll roads. But now in Chile we have to pay! Works out to about $15 a day and the hassle of stopping and having to dig the money out while straddling a Moto with gloves on. Oh well, it pays for these beautiful highways which makes it almost worthwhile.
Sunday 5
Breakfast at hotel and on the road at 10. We say goodbye to
our new friends from Vancouver and ride on down the coast to Tocopilla. On the
way we encounter an aduanas (customs station) in the middle of nowhere. As is
our usual practice, when coming up to a government station where it’s a police
roadblock or an agricultural check station we just slow down and continue on by
unless someone starts to yell. Well Max was leading the way and went on through
with me following. A guy comes running out yelling his fool head off so I stop.
Max keeps going. Now the guy is really pissed!
He begins to take it out on me but I through it right back at him, in English. Fortunately he doesn’t understand a word I’m saying and visa versa for me. Max eventually turns around and we have to go through the customs thing again. Twice in two days. No biggie. Our papers are all in order and we are not carrying panniers full of guns and drugs so they let us go. It’s more dry coast running and getting drier as we get farther into the Atacoma. We rode the city of Iquique where Bob and Julie Burtons daughter Alexis lived for a number of months studying Spanish.
We ended the day on the beach south of Tocopilla. Found a great campsite right above rocky tide pool with the Pacific crashing on shore. Max cooked up a dinner of Rice and beans (like we haven’t had enough of them already) that were very tasty. All along this part of the coast there are these shrine areas much like you see everywhere someone has died in a car accident but much larger. Some of them have multiple crosses and big shrine enclosures. Be guess is that they are for fishermen and sailors lost at sea. They all face the ocean and all appear to be built on public land.
The spot we camped at had a small monument wit some inscription on it facing the ocean. Also there were coins and rosary beads placed around it. Kind of reminded me of the Shrines we saw while riding through Mongolia except we don’t stop at each shrine and walk around it 3 times taking shots of vodka as we did in Mongolia.
 |
| A great view of the valley |
He begins to take it out on me but I through it right back at him, in English. Fortunately he doesn’t understand a word I’m saying and visa versa for me. Max eventually turns around and we have to go through the customs thing again. Twice in two days. No biggie. Our papers are all in order and we are not carrying panniers full of guns and drugs so they let us go. It’s more dry coast running and getting drier as we get farther into the Atacoma. We rode the city of Iquique where Bob and Julie Burtons daughter Alexis lived for a number of months studying Spanish.
 |
| Our campsite for the night |
 |
| Camping! |
We ended the day on the beach south of Tocopilla. Found a great campsite right above rocky tide pool with the Pacific crashing on shore. Max cooked up a dinner of Rice and beans (like we haven’t had enough of them already) that were very tasty. All along this part of the coast there are these shrine areas much like you see everywhere someone has died in a car accident but much larger. Some of them have multiple crosses and big shrine enclosures. Be guess is that they are for fishermen and sailors lost at sea. They all face the ocean and all appear to be built on public land.
 |
The spot we camped at had a small monument wit some inscription on it facing the ocean. Also there were coins and rosary beads placed around it. Kind of reminded me of the Shrines we saw while riding through Mongolia except we don’t stop at each shrine and walk around it 3 times taking shots of vodka as we did in Mongolia.
Monday
After a restful night of listening to the ocean crash right
below us I arise around 8 (it’s actually 6 in Peru) and after Max cooks up a
luscious breakfast of oatmeal, no milk on honey just oatmeal we pack and are
ready to go around 9:30. First thing is to tow Max and the POS KTM to a place
we can push start him. Towing him uphill in the sand proved too much for the
old man and his bike. Each time I would take off the weight of his bike lifted
my front end up so much I couldn’t steer. After two close calls to dumping the
bike I call it quits and we push the bike to a hill. Max is getting really good
at firing the beast in 1st gear and pulls it off one more time.
About this time Jay informs us he has found a route to Buenos Aries that does
not involve riding with us another day. Hummm, I can’t help but think the KTM
may have played a not so small part in his decision. (KTM breaking down in the
middle of the Atacoma desert would scare off the heartiest of riders). Anyway it’s
adios to Jay and good riding with you buddy. We continue down the coast for a
number of miles, ride through the port city of Antofagasta (gota love the name)
then turn in to the heart of the Atacoma. I had pictured Antofagasta (it’s even
fun to type it) to be a dirty industrial port city but found it to very modern
and clean with nice beaches and a beautiful downtown tourist area. About 30
miles south of Antofagasta (there I typed it again!) We come upon a landmark we
had been seeking since the beginning of the trip. LA MANO DEL DESIERTO!!!
“The hand of the desert”
Some wacko artist a number of years ago thought it would be
really cool to create a giant in the middle of the driest desert in the world
(it hasn’t rained here for 600 years! Really!)
I wonder where he got the water for the concrete…
But I digress; this is very impressive standing alone on the
flat desert plain. So we stop, take the appropriate pictures and move on. Oh
yea, after we push start the POS KTM.
Knowing we have a long way between gas stops we picked up a
gallon water jug and filled it with gas at our last stop, good thing because
Max runs out at 250 miles, Johns on reserve and the GS still has one bar left!
Love that bike! The few occurrences this day are we come upon an accident in the
middle of nowhere along a very straight section of rode. It’s a truck that has
roll numerous times (maybe a blown tire). The Policia were there so no need to
stop. It seems that there is a road crew every 5 Kms or so with shovels and
brooms to keep the road cleared of sand. We did see a few loaders, but just a
few, most of the work is done with manual labor.
We rolled into Chanara around 7 and find some beach camping about 5 kms beyond town. It’s a nice place with sites that include a picnic bench and a fire grill. No charge and we are the only ones there until later when one other truck shows up. Tonight Briner treats us to a Southwest Smoked salmon with pasta dinner served with a very good red wine (wine is good and cheap down here!). Sitting around watching John and Max cook, sipping a glass of wine I really feel blessed to have this opportunity with my son. Somewhere along the way Max has become a very self-sufficent, good-natured, good humored (and rides like a pro!) young man. He really is great company and I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m enjoying his company. Another soothing night sleeping with the sound of the surf has me feeling fine!
 |
| Our 2nd beach camp |
We rolled into Chanara around 7 and find some beach camping about 5 kms beyond town. It’s a nice place with sites that include a picnic bench and a fire grill. No charge and we are the only ones there until later when one other truck shows up. Tonight Briner treats us to a Southwest Smoked salmon with pasta dinner served with a very good red wine (wine is good and cheap down here!). Sitting around watching John and Max cook, sipping a glass of wine I really feel blessed to have this opportunity with my son. Somewhere along the way Max has become a very self-sufficent, good-natured, good humored (and rides like a pro!) young man. He really is great company and I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m enjoying his company. Another soothing night sleeping with the sound of the surf has me feeling fine!
 |
| Morning view from our camp |
Tuesday
 |
| Hostel in Los Vilos |
Thinking sea food should be the fair here I order camorones (shrimp). Since I can’t read Spanish I never know what I’ll get and what I get is a bowl full of tiny shrimp floating on a sea of butter. It goes without saying those little buggers slid right through me and kept me from getting the fitful sleep I was getting used to.
Wednesday
We get an early start today. Well we made it out of the
Atacoma and begin to see crops growing, mostly grapes. We are once again in
wine country, this time Chilian wine! The are we are riding through reminds me
of the Napa/Sonoma area but without all the congestion. The climate but be
similar with coastal fog coming in the morning then burning off and heating up
during the day. As we approach Santiago the air becomes hazier until it’s thick
smog.
Looks at least as bad as LA does in the summer. We pass right on through Santiago without too much traffic ( the highways are muli-lane and very modern) . Ruta 5 becomes a boring 4 lane road much like I5 in California but it also allows us to really burn the miles! We pull into Chilan around 3:30 after riding 400 miles and head straight for the KTM dealer. At first it appears closed but soon after arriving the employees begin showing up after their 2 ½ hour lunch break! Max explains, in his broken Spanish, what he wants done and I attempt to get a rear tire but they don’t have one in my size. I’m beginning to worry I might not be able to get one in Chile and hear it’s even harder to fine one in Argentina. We get the feeling these guys could give a shit about our problems and leave feeling a bit dejected. I went off looking for a place to stay nearby. My requirements are simple. Cheap, comfortable, a pool ( it’s frig’n hot here) and beer. What I found was very expensive places, some with a shared bath, and no pools. Finally I find a place named Hotel Canada run by a nice lady for only $80 a night (we are used to paying about $30) and felt lucky to have found that! We met a couple from northern Italy staying there. They had been there almost a month spending time with a young girl they are adopting from around there. She works for Pagani, an exotic car manufacturer in Italy, and he works at Ferrari.
Very interesting folks. I had fun talking Moto GP and Formula 1 with someone who knows a thing or two about the sports. Dinner was at a nearby restaurant. It was king of weird but we go in this place and they must have seating for 100. We are the only ones and I get a little suspitious of the food. But we go ahead and order. A bottle of wine (the best they have) $8! A steak $6 (it can’t be any good). The wine is great and the steak is fabulous! 1 ½” 16oz steak, as tender a steak I’ve had and cooked to perfection. After the last 3 months looking at 1/4” overcooked tough pieces of some sort of meat I was in heaven!
 |
| Santiago Smog |
Looks at least as bad as LA does in the summer. We pass right on through Santiago without too much traffic ( the highways are muli-lane and very modern) . Ruta 5 becomes a boring 4 lane road much like I5 in California but it also allows us to really burn the miles! We pull into Chilan around 3:30 after riding 400 miles and head straight for the KTM dealer. At first it appears closed but soon after arriving the employees begin showing up after their 2 ½ hour lunch break! Max explains, in his broken Spanish, what he wants done and I attempt to get a rear tire but they don’t have one in my size. I’m beginning to worry I might not be able to get one in Chile and hear it’s even harder to fine one in Argentina. We get the feeling these guys could give a shit about our problems and leave feeling a bit dejected. I went off looking for a place to stay nearby. My requirements are simple. Cheap, comfortable, a pool ( it’s frig’n hot here) and beer. What I found was very expensive places, some with a shared bath, and no pools. Finally I find a place named Hotel Canada run by a nice lady for only $80 a night (we are used to paying about $30) and felt lucky to have found that! We met a couple from northern Italy staying there. They had been there almost a month spending time with a young girl they are adopting from around there. She works for Pagani, an exotic car manufacturer in Italy, and he works at Ferrari.
 |
| Our friens from Italy |
Very interesting folks. I had fun talking Moto GP and Formula 1 with someone who knows a thing or two about the sports. Dinner was at a nearby restaurant. It was king of weird but we go in this place and they must have seating for 100. We are the only ones and I get a little suspitious of the food. But we go ahead and order. A bottle of wine (the best they have) $8! A steak $6 (it can’t be any good). The wine is great and the steak is fabulous! 1 ½” 16oz steak, as tender a steak I’ve had and cooked to perfection. After the last 3 months looking at 1/4” overcooked tough pieces of some sort of meat I was in heaven!
 |
| No words can discribe my pleasure! |
Thursday
After breakfast we all headed up to visit the patient. All the
guys at the shop seemed to have warmed up a bit and they begin to go over the
list of things they found, bad intermediate gear (the same gear we replaced in
Medellin), A failed stator, the sub frame had broken, new tires for and aft,
flushed the cooling system and a oil change. They are waiting for a part so
will have the bike another day. Also after asking again they they said they
would order a tire for me. I was told by someone that you have to ask to
receive down here. I had asked if they had a tire yesterday and was told no.
They didn’t offer to order one even though they knew I desparatly needed one.
But when I asked again today I was told “no problem” they would have it
Saturday morning. Another great dinner, this time at Motonietis, a restaurant named
after the owners first scooter.
Friday
Spent the day downloading music to my GPS. Now I have my
entire iTunes library at my finger tips while riding. I originally bought this
model of GPS because of it’s built in XM radio only to find out it faded away
somewhere around El Salvador not to return until I get back to the northern
hemisphere. Oh well I guess the XM guy misunderstood me when I asked if it
would work in South America, he must have thought I was asking about Alabama or
something. Dinner with the Italians to finish the day.
Saturday
Max and I go looking for coffee.
This seemily simple task is not so easy here. In Chile most people drink Nescafe and the few that enjoy a good shot of espresso must not get out until after 10 in the morning because that’s when the coffee shops open. Then it’s off to the KTM shop. They have found a few other things that needed replacing also related to the starter/stator problem. Good news the parts arrived the bad news my tire didn’t! Anyway at least the KTM will be ready for an early morning start tomorrow. So I spend the rest of the day trying, without success to find the leak in my air mattress and tracking down a tire.. I know we will be doing more camping and my mattress completely leaks out over the course of the night causing me much discomfort during the early morning hours of the day. I did have some success finding a tire. There is a shop in Bariloche that might have one. After a number of calls I verify there is one there! Yahoo! I’m so excited I don’t even ask how much.
 |
| These were new at the beginning of the trip |
This seemily simple task is not so easy here. In Chile most people drink Nescafe and the few that enjoy a good shot of espresso must not get out until after 10 in the morning because that’s when the coffee shops open. Then it’s off to the KTM shop. They have found a few other things that needed replacing also related to the starter/stator problem. Good news the parts arrived the bad news my tire didn’t! Anyway at least the KTM will be ready for an early morning start tomorrow. So I spend the rest of the day trying, without success to find the leak in my air mattress and tracking down a tire.. I know we will be doing more camping and my mattress completely leaks out over the course of the night causing me much discomfort during the early morning hours of the day. I did have some success finding a tire. There is a shop in Bariloche that might have one. After a number of calls I verify there is one there! Yahoo! I’m so excited I don’t even ask how much.
Sunday
Packed and on the road by 8:30. Gas up and…Shit! The starter
on the KTM just spins! After giving the right pannier a swift kick we settle
down and have a trip planning discussion (in the gas station parking lot). It’s
Sunday and the shop is closed so do we all wait until Monday, which means not
getting out of town until Tuesday morning at the earliest. That’s 2 more nights
at the way over budget hotel. After much discussion we all decide it would be
in everyone’s best interest if John and I head for Argentina and Max finds a
cheap place to stay in Chilan and deal with the bike himself. As tough as a
discussion it was it did turn out to be the best one.
So John and I point the bikes south and wave a heartfelt goodbye to my #1 son. We ride south on Ruta 5 then turn East on 199 to Lago Villarrica. This is the beginning of the Lakes District that we plan on spending some time in. It is a beautiful setting that reminds me a little of North Lake Tahoe. Off to the South is Volcan Villarrica, a 9000’ active volcano that rises straight up from about a 1000’ elevation, very impressive! Our map shows some hot springs in the area so we ride through Pucon and turn north for 25 kms to Huife Thermals. On the way we ran into a Moto tour group of about 15 bikers. Compass Expeditions, a company from Australia, does these 18-day tours from Osorno, Chile to Ushuaia, Argentina.
We got camping information from them and found an awesome place to camp right on a small river. It is very comforting to be camping next to a clean cool river for the night. A couple of locals were catching Rainbows right in front of our campsite with nothing more than a hand line, bobber and a chunk of Crayfish. After a gourmet dinner of Pad Thai (freeze dried of course) and a bottle of Chilean wine we hit the sack.
 |
| Camped of the night |
So John and I point the bikes south and wave a heartfelt goodbye to my #1 son. We ride south on Ruta 5 then turn East on 199 to Lago Villarrica. This is the beginning of the Lakes District that we plan on spending some time in. It is a beautiful setting that reminds me a little of North Lake Tahoe. Off to the South is Volcan Villarrica, a 9000’ active volcano that rises straight up from about a 1000’ elevation, very impressive! Our map shows some hot springs in the area so we ride through Pucon and turn north for 25 kms to Huife Thermals. On the way we ran into a Moto tour group of about 15 bikers. Compass Expeditions, a company from Australia, does these 18-day tours from Osorno, Chile to Ushuaia, Argentina.
 |
| Volcan Villarrica |
We got camping information from them and found an awesome place to camp right on a small river. It is very comforting to be camping next to a clean cool river for the night. A couple of locals were catching Rainbows right in front of our campsite with nothing more than a hand line, bobber and a chunk of Crayfish. After a gourmet dinner of Pad Thai (freeze dried of course) and a bottle of Chilean wine we hit the sack.
 |
| Some Gouchos crossing the river |
Monday
Coffee and yogurt, pack up the bikes and head for the hot
springs about 2 ktms up the road. We arrive to find they won’t be opening for
another hour.
I just can’t get used to the late night late morning lifestyle the Chileans have. So we start our days ride a little earlier then planed. We ride east on 199 through Curarrehue onto a dirt road to the border. We are in the middle of a National Park and it is beautiful! Lots of small lakes and pine trees. There is a type of pine that’s called an Araucaria tree. Is a very bizarre looking thing that grows very big.
Instead of needles it has these rose like thorns and is sometimes referred to as a monkey tree. The border crossing was very organized but slow due to a number of tour buses that had arrived before us. Once into Argentina the landscaped changed and began resembling parts of Montana I’ve ridden through. Rolling hills separated by these pretty rivers that must be full of Rainbow Trout. They have strict catch and release laws here in the Patagonia. We made it to San Martin de Los Andes and found camping in town for the night. San Martin is a recreation center referred to us as “the Bariloche of 20 years ago”. If that’s the case I wonder what Bariloche of today is like. This place is teaming with tourists. The main streets are lined with outdoor shops and restaurants. The town sits at the East end of Lago Largar and serves as a ski town in the wintertime. While eating dinner a guy from New Zealand hears us speaking English and comes by to ask about roads around. It turns out him and his son rented a couple of Honda Trans Alps and are looking for roads in Chile to ride so we spent the rest of the night going over maps with them. The owner of the place, Juan Pablo, also was great, buying us a beer and keeping us amused.
 |
| A number of of somewhat flimseys bridges awaited us in Arg. |
I just can’t get used to the late night late morning lifestyle the Chileans have. So we start our days ride a little earlier then planed. We ride east on 199 through Curarrehue onto a dirt road to the border. We are in the middle of a National Park and it is beautiful! Lots of small lakes and pine trees. There is a type of pine that’s called an Araucaria tree. Is a very bizarre looking thing that grows very big.
 |
| Araucaria tree |
Instead of needles it has these rose like thorns and is sometimes referred to as a monkey tree. The border crossing was very organized but slow due to a number of tour buses that had arrived before us. Once into Argentina the landscaped changed and began resembling parts of Montana I’ve ridden through. Rolling hills separated by these pretty rivers that must be full of Rainbow Trout. They have strict catch and release laws here in the Patagonia. We made it to San Martin de Los Andes and found camping in town for the night. San Martin is a recreation center referred to us as “the Bariloche of 20 years ago”. If that’s the case I wonder what Bariloche of today is like. This place is teaming with tourists. The main streets are lined with outdoor shops and restaurants. The town sits at the East end of Lago Largar and serves as a ski town in the wintertime. While eating dinner a guy from New Zealand hears us speaking English and comes by to ask about roads around. It turns out him and his son rented a couple of Honda Trans Alps and are looking for roads in Chile to ride so we spent the rest of the night going over maps with them. The owner of the place, Juan Pablo, also was great, buying us a beer and keeping us amused.
 |
| Line at Argentina border |
Tuesday
We had such a good time and food at Juan’s we go back for
some breakfast after which we explore the town looking for air mattress patch
kits and a thermos for John. Back at camp I attacked the air mattress project
with a new zeal, hoping to find the source of the pinhole leak. After going
over the thing inch by inch I finally find a very, very small leak, which I
patch up with the kit I brought from Skagway. The patch failed, and I’m back to
looking for another kit. Spent the afternoon working on this god-forsaken blog
then called my bride to wish her a happy Valentines Day. Dinner at Juan’s again
(hey, when you find a good thing why chance otherwise?).
Wednesday
We ride the seven lakes route south down to San Carlos de
Bariloche.
The route takes us through some spectacular areas. We follow lakes, streams on mostly nice roads with about 30 miles of dirt. While riding we begin to see a light colored dust everywhere, on the roadside, in the trees, in the streams and up in the mountains. We are perplexed until we meet some bicyclists from Argentina who tell us it’s ash from a volcano in Chile the blew 5 months ago. As we ride in closer to Bariloche the sky begins to fill up with more ash from the same Volcano. This area has been dealing with this for months! By the time we reach Bariloche you can’t see ½ way across the lake and by the time we get to our hotel visibility is down to ¼ mile. When the wind blows from the west they get this new ash from the volcano. What a mess! The first thing I do is go to the Moto shop to see if they have my tire. They do and they will sell it to be for $430! That’s three times what I pay in the states but it’s here and I need it so I pull out the visa only to be told, “Cash only”. The owner had to drive me to a cash machine; even pulling out the maximum amount I still didn’t have enough. I guess I look honest because he let me take the tire and pay him the rest the next day. Later we meet up with some old friends of John who live here. Daniel and Clyo had worked with John back at Telluride as ski instructors 6 or 7 years ago. Daniel owns the ski school here at the big ski resort. After numerous beers and some food we part company having made plans to have dinner with them tomorrow at their house. When I get back to our room I got an email from max saying he would be here tomorrow. I’ll be very relieved to see him and his bike here in one piece!
The route takes us through some spectacular areas. We follow lakes, streams on mostly nice roads with about 30 miles of dirt. While riding we begin to see a light colored dust everywhere, on the roadside, in the trees, in the streams and up in the mountains. We are perplexed until we meet some bicyclists from Argentina who tell us it’s ash from a volcano in Chile the blew 5 months ago. As we ride in closer to Bariloche the sky begins to fill up with more ash from the same Volcano. This area has been dealing with this for months! By the time we reach Bariloche you can’t see ½ way across the lake and by the time we get to our hotel visibility is down to ¼ mile. When the wind blows from the west they get this new ash from the volcano. What a mess! The first thing I do is go to the Moto shop to see if they have my tire. They do and they will sell it to be for $430! That’s three times what I pay in the states but it’s here and I need it so I pull out the visa only to be told, “Cash only”. The owner had to drive me to a cash machine; even pulling out the maximum amount I still didn’t have enough. I guess I look honest because he let me take the tire and pay him the rest the next day. Later we meet up with some old friends of John who live here. Daniel and Clyo had worked with John back at Telluride as ski instructors 6 or 7 years ago. Daniel owns the ski school here at the big ski resort. After numerous beers and some food we part company having made plans to have dinner with them tomorrow at their house. When I get back to our room I got an email from max saying he would be here tomorrow. I’ll be very relieved to see him and his bike here in one piece!
 |
| The rangers down here dress way cooler than our rangers |
Thursday
Not much to write about until around 2:30. While in our room
writing on the blog I hear a bike that sounds like Max’s but louder (if that’s
possible). Looking out the window I verify it’s Max and head down to meet him.
The back cap on his muffler has falling off, the rivets failing from the
excessive vibration from his bike. Fortunately he found it and will get it put
back on. He has had a good adventure riding dirt roads across from Chile. And,
other than the muffler issue, the bike is running better than ever. After
getting settled in we once again take the POS to a moto shop to get the muffler
fixed. John calls Daniel and is told he will pick us up for dinner around 8:30.
Are you kidding me! That’s closer to my bedtime than to my dinnertime. Actually
my head is beginning to adjust to Argentinean time.
I’ve been eating late staying up late and sleeping in late. No more “the early bird gets the worm”. Max on the other hand didn’t have to adjust; he already has the sleeping in thing going for him.
 |
| Some bikers we met on the 7 lakes route |
I’ve been eating late staying up late and sleeping in late. No more “the early bird gets the worm”. Max on the other hand didn’t have to adjust; he already has the sleeping in thing going for him.
Friday FEB 17
Rain! I didn’t realize how lucky we’ve been until waking up
this morning to pouring rain. Funny story…. Yesterday while at the moto shop I
attempted to ask the owner what time he opened tomorrow. “Que Tiempo Manana?”
He just looked up at the sky and shrugged his shoulders. So I asked again and
this time he goes to his computer, smiles and says the Spanish equivalent of
“rain next five days”. Turns out “tempo” means both time and weather.
I finally figure this out and leave not knowing what time he will open in the morning but an pretty sure it’s going to rain the next day. Spend the day sorting pictures and finalizing an exit plan for getting back home.
We will ship the bikes by air from Buenos Aires to Seattle on the 8th of April and will fly ourselves to Seattle on the 9th. We still not sure what to do with the POS KTM but Max is actively trying to sell it down here. Although it is illegal to sell a bike not registered in Argentina he may have found a buyer who would pick up the bike just north of Ushuaia and Max will have to walk, bus or fly to Buenos Aries. Stay tuned.
 |
| 7 lakes route |
 |
| Lakeshore covered with volcanic ash |
I finally figure this out and leave not knowing what time he will open in the morning but an pretty sure it’s going to rain the next day. Spend the day sorting pictures and finalizing an exit plan for getting back home.
 |
| Road from Bariloche |
We will ship the bikes by air from Buenos Aires to Seattle on the 8th of April and will fly ourselves to Seattle on the 9th. We still not sure what to do with the POS KTM but Max is actively trying to sell it down here. Although it is illegal to sell a bike not registered in Argentina he may have found a buyer who would pick up the bike just north of Ushuaia and Max will have to walk, bus or fly to Buenos Aries. Stay tuned.
 |
| Daniel and Clyo, Johns old friends in Bariloche hosting a great meat dinner! |
Saturday
John finds out one of the owners at the place we are staying
does guided Moto and 4 wheel drive tours down to Ushuaia. After asking if he
could help with our trip planning we all sit down with our maps and he lays out
a route that takes us back into Chile crossing at Futaleufu and riding down through the archipeligo
to Villa O’Higgins then back track north, crossing back into Argentina at Paso
Roballos to Ruta 40 South.
It looks awesome and the roads are mostly gravel. After breakfast we start riding south out of town heading toward El Bolson, where we heard there will be a hops festival this weekend. . Almost immediately I understand the draw to this area. The countryside turns wild with hanging glaciers, emerald lakes and rouged mountains. We reach El Bolson and stop to get some lunch and information. The lunch was great but the information notso good. The festival does not begin for 2 weeks but on a positive note there is a festival this weekend at a town named Lago Puelo, only 20 Kms south of here. Hey we’ll take any festival so we ride on down, find camping and go check out the party! It is more like a county fair with cotton candy, music, games and NO BEER!
I’ve probably mentioned this before but Argentina is a trip. Nothing opens before 10 AM and then everything closes between 1:00 and 4:00 then opens again, except the restaurants which don’t open until 8 or 9:00. People do not eat dinner until 9:00 at the earliest. Anyway no food or beer so I take a nap. When I awake around 9 I’m hungry and we find a place nearby to serve us food and beer. This area is well known for it “artisans beer” or home brew. Anybody can home brew and sell it so the rodes around here are full of signs advertising there beer that they serve right out of their homes. Briner is in beer heaven!
 |
| Road to El Boson |
It looks awesome and the roads are mostly gravel. After breakfast we start riding south out of town heading toward El Bolson, where we heard there will be a hops festival this weekend. . Almost immediately I understand the draw to this area. The countryside turns wild with hanging glaciers, emerald lakes and rouged mountains. We reach El Bolson and stop to get some lunch and information. The lunch was great but the information notso good. The festival does not begin for 2 weeks but on a positive note there is a festival this weekend at a town named Lago Puelo, only 20 Kms south of here. Hey we’ll take any festival so we ride on down, find camping and go check out the party! It is more like a county fair with cotton candy, music, games and NO BEER!
 |
| Lunch! |
I’ve probably mentioned this before but Argentina is a trip. Nothing opens before 10 AM and then everything closes between 1:00 and 4:00 then opens again, except the restaurants which don’t open until 8 or 9:00. People do not eat dinner until 9:00 at the earliest. Anyway no food or beer so I take a nap. When I awake around 9 I’m hungry and we find a place nearby to serve us food and beer. This area is well known for it “artisans beer” or home brew. Anybody can home brew and sell it so the rodes around here are full of signs advertising there beer that they serve right out of their homes. Briner is in beer heaven!
 |
| Enjoying some local brew in Lago Puelo |
Sunday
After a late breakfast we pack up camp and ride south down
258 to 71 and into Parque Nacional Los Alerces.
The park is beautiful with lakes and mountains but is known to have the only living Alerces trees. These trees are considered to be some of the oldest trees in the world dating back 4000 years ago. They grow to 3 meters wide and I don’t know how tall. Still don’t because we didn’t take the time to walk the 20 minutes to see one. We set up camp at a free park campground by a lake. John thinks about getting some hand line and flies but it’s too windy to try. Max and I take a hike up to a cool waterfall then return to eat some dinner. John cooks up my last freeze dried meal, pasta with Salmon and we polish off a bottle of wine. After Max breaks out the rum which leads to Max and John trying to walk across strapping tied between 2 trees. Fun to watch but hard to do. John has read that we are near to the homestead Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid lived on for a while in 1906-08. They raised cattle and horses, attempting to go straight only to be falsely accused of robbing a nearby bank. That’s what got them running off to Bolivia. So we plot a course for tomorrows ride that will take us by the site.
The park is beautiful with lakes and mountains but is known to have the only living Alerces trees. These trees are considered to be some of the oldest trees in the world dating back 4000 years ago. They grow to 3 meters wide and I don’t know how tall. Still don’t because we didn’t take the time to walk the 20 minutes to see one. We set up camp at a free park campground by a lake. John thinks about getting some hand line and flies but it’s too windy to try. Max and I take a hike up to a cool waterfall then return to eat some dinner. John cooks up my last freeze dried meal, pasta with Salmon and we polish off a bottle of wine. After Max breaks out the rum which leads to Max and John trying to walk across strapping tied between 2 trees. Fun to watch but hard to do. John has read that we are near to the homestead Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid lived on for a while in 1906-08. They raised cattle and horses, attempting to go straight only to be falsely accused of robbing a nearby bank. That’s what got them running off to Bolivia. So we plot a course for tomorrows ride that will take us by the site.
Monday Feb 20
We are off In search of Butch Cassidy’s ranch. It’s a
beautiful ride down the lakes on a well maintained gravel road. According to John the site is near La
Hoya, a ski area north of Esquel.
We stop in Esquel for lunch and information on exactly where we are going only to find that the site is very near to where we had camped, not down here. Bummer! Well lets gas up and get going. Not so fast, the first station has no gas and the other has a line around the block. After conferring with my map I see there is a good size town just inside Chile so we decide we'll pay alittle more in Chile but it will be worth it not having to wait.
So we back track a little ways and ride on to the Chile border. A large line of tourists await us and the exit/ entrance process takes us 2 ½ hours and we don’t get through until 6:00. Our goal of getting to Chaiten tonight is slipping through our fingers. Once through we ride into Futaleutu for gas. We ride by a gas station under construction but don’t see any other. Max gets directions to one that leads us to a mechanics shop where we inquire about gas. We are told there is no station here or anywhere within 90 miles, but if you please I have gas at my house that I’ll sell you for $10 a gallon! We have no choice but to follow this honest man to his house where he sell us each 1.5 gallons of low grade petol, enough to make it to Chaiten. By the time we get out of town it’s 7:30. So we continue riding south on 231 on what has to be one of the most beautiful rides I’ve taken (except the 10 ktm stretch of rough and deep sand waiting to be graded).
We find camping on property owned by a fishing guide that is right on the lake. After John clears off a number of cow pies we set up camp and eat a wonderful dinner cooked by chef John.
 |
| Road to Esquel. I can see the draw for Butch and Sundance |
We stop in Esquel for lunch and information on exactly where we are going only to find that the site is very near to where we had camped, not down here. Bummer! Well lets gas up and get going. Not so fast, the first station has no gas and the other has a line around the block. After conferring with my map I see there is a good size town just inside Chile so we decide we'll pay alittle more in Chile but it will be worth it not having to wait.
 |
| Gas stop |
So we back track a little ways and ride on to the Chile border. A large line of tourists await us and the exit/ entrance process takes us 2 ½ hours and we don’t get through until 6:00. Our goal of getting to Chaiten tonight is slipping through our fingers. Once through we ride into Futaleutu for gas. We ride by a gas station under construction but don’t see any other. Max gets directions to one that leads us to a mechanics shop where we inquire about gas. We are told there is no station here or anywhere within 90 miles, but if you please I have gas at my house that I’ll sell you for $10 a gallon! We have no choice but to follow this honest man to his house where he sell us each 1.5 gallons of low grade petol, enough to make it to Chaiten. By the time we get out of town it’s 7:30. So we continue riding south on 231 on what has to be one of the most beautiful rides I’ve taken (except the 10 ktm stretch of rough and deep sand waiting to be graded).
 |
| RIVER RUNNING ALONG OUR ROUTE |
 |
| Along the road into Chaiten |
 |
| Our kitchen and dining room at Jorges' |
We find camping on property owned by a fishing guide that is right on the lake. After John clears off a number of cow pies we set up camp and eat a wonderful dinner cooked by chef John.
Tuesday
No rain so I get up and pack my tent before the rain comes
again. We are now in a rain forest much like SE Alaska. They cook us breakfast
then it’s KTM maintenance. Chain lube and tightening. The new issue: The KTMs
steering head bearings seem to be going. No problem, I tell Max, they WILL last
the trip! (I hope). We finally get riding around 11 and have a very enjoyable
ride into the town of Chaiten where John and Max hope to run into Doug Tomkins,
the founder of North Face and a environmentalist who has be instrumental in
setting up 2 large park/reserves here in Chile.
The one here is Parque Palena. It’s a large park containing both rainforest and mountains including the Volcan Chaiten. The second park is south of here, Corcovalo National park. If you haven’t seen it yet download and see the film 180 degrees South. This is the film that inspired us to spend time in this part of the Patagonia. It also features Doug Tomkins and Yvon Chouinard, the founder of Patagonia clothing. After arriving in Chaiten I got online to see what I could find about this place. Holy shit! In 2008 the Volcan Chaiten erupted causing the evacuation of 4000 people here. Very few have returned and the town resembles a ghost town. Many of the houses here are time capsules from May 2, 2008 when the people just left and never returned. The volcano, only 10kms away, still spews great clouds of steam.
 |
| Breakfast at Jorges' |
The one here is Parque Palena. It’s a large park containing both rainforest and mountains including the Volcan Chaiten. The second park is south of here, Corcovalo National park. If you haven’t seen it yet download and see the film 180 degrees South. This is the film that inspired us to spend time in this part of the Patagonia. It also features Doug Tomkins and Yvon Chouinard, the founder of Patagonia clothing. After arriving in Chaiten I got online to see what I could find about this place. Holy shit! In 2008 the Volcan Chaiten erupted causing the evacuation of 4000 people here. Very few have returned and the town resembles a ghost town. Many of the houses here are time capsules from May 2, 2008 when the people just left and never returned. The volcano, only 10kms away, still spews great clouds of steam.
 |
| Yelcho Lake at Jorges |
 |
| Just outside Chaiten |
 |
| Road to Chaiten |
