After 2 days in Buenos Aires recovering from the flight it was time for the off, picked up the bike from Dakar Motos and headed for Cordoba.Got a bit carried away and instead of taking a leasurely two day ride made it by about 8 at night and spent two very nice days there not doing very much at all.
1/9/2013
Cordoba to Rio Colorado
Bright early start in beautiful weather.Hotel pre-booked in Rito Colorado just to give an added motivation to complete the 600 miles.
Funny how the mind doesn't connect the obvious7/9/2013. Somehow I had thought Pampas Grass was something special but having ridden through 600 miles of nothing but Pampas grass I concluded that in these parts it is not quite so exotic.Arrived just before dark with the weather changing from very nice to a bit miserable.
2/9/2013
Rio Colorado to Comodoro Rivadavia
Another 600 mile day ahead but the forecast looked good and whats life without a challenge? and is there any better feeling than a long road, a full tank and the sun on your back?
The scale of the size of Agentina means that no opportunity to fill up can be missed especially with petrol stations 100 miles apart.This is a lesson quickly learned when riding the last 50 miles to a garage praying there is enough left in the tank.
The weather started getting colder, wetter and windier. It is slightly disconcerting when riding through torrential rain with the visibility getting less and less and realising there is absolutely nowhere to shelter.By this far South there is nothing, absolutely nothing, not even a tree.Luckily when the sleet started it didn't stick and I was soon through to the other side.I was feeling really sorry for myself when I came across a local biker stopped by the side of the road, thinking he was in trouble I stopped to see if he needed help. Turned out he was just frozen almost stiff and soaked to the skin, at least I was dry so with a HiHo Silver I continued on my way eventually arriving at the hotel. I think it is fair to say that I had discovered a whole new level of coldness but it was nothing that lying half an hour in a hot bath couldn't fix, at least I had stopped shivering.
3/9/2013
Comodora Rivadavia to Rio Gallegas.
To say the going is boring is an understatement, mile after mile of more or less straight road through frozen windy nothing, not even a tree. I was getting used to these 600 mile days but I was starting to get weary and broke my own rule and went straight to the hotel rather than filling the tank.
I was busy congratulating myself on the good progress and decided I could definitely get back to Buenos Aires after a couple of nights in Ushuaia but in fact I had taken my foot off the pedal and in the warm glow of a nice meal had an early night in preparation for the triumphant cruise to the end of the world.
4/9/2013
Rio Gallegos to Cerro Sombrero
Riding long hours provides the opportunity to come up with most of the answers to the worlds problems as I see them and leaves time to ponder on more mudane things perhaps a little more relevant to the task at hand. Today was to be the day when some of my wondering would be answered
350 miles,2 borders to cross and a ferry was all for to day and as I set off feeling confident I ignored garages on the far side of the road waiting for one on my side, of course Murphy came into play and there was none on my side but the border was only 40 kms away and there would surely be a garage there. I don't know if I mentioned how remote these places are but riding out of the mist to find a queue waiting for the crossing to open it was evident there were no petrol pumps.My GPS showed showed fuel in 140 kms which was definitely outside my comfort zone but instead of retracing my steps I decided that an intrepid traveller doesn't turn back and after muddling through the border formalities I carried on to the ferry.Two things are forever etched into my brain from when I reached the Magellen Straights, the fuel warning light does in fact work as it came on some miles before and there was a further 39 kms to cover from where I was to the nearest filling station in Cerro Sombrero.
The ferry is a simple affair and you ride on one side and off the other ( after the crossing obviously ). I was sitting berating myself for being so stupid when a Volkswagon Caravanette rolled onto the ferry, German registered belonging to Martin and Kathi who were on a world tour.My bacon was saved and I borrowed 5 litres of fuel which I would replace in Cerro Sombrero. All was well with my world and I sped off to cover the 39 kms to the garage.
The garage was off the main route but easily found and after the filling up and replacing the fuel I bade farewell to Martin and Kathi and set off.I thought it a little strange when the GPS didn't direct me back to the road I had come off but thought this was a short cut back to the main road, it was. Unfortunately in my haste at celebrating victory the night before I hadn't cross checked the route between Mapquest and my GPS. Anyway after getting back to the main road I was directed to turn left which I duly did.After a few kms I stopped and recalculated the route, something was not right as I seemed to be the only person on this road. The trusty GPS came up with the same route so I carried on with the road getting slowly worse and my progress getting slower and slower.
To cut a long story short I found from practical experience that when you are lying sprawling in the mud it doesn't feel any better because nobody is around to see.I also discovered that even at my advanced age I can manage to pick the bike up alone, oh how I laughed when, shaking from the effort and leaning on the upright bike, I wondered how I was going to get back on it.
Your intrepid world traveller found a way and carried on into the fire. The going was slow to say the least and I proved beyond doubt that my bike is not the ideal model for offroad. Something else I hadn't realised was that mud can pack so as to make the bike unmoveable and yes, that smell was the clutch burning out.
I had only been standing next to my broken bike for 30 mins when my fellow world travellers, Martin and Kathi came along but not wanting to delay them I refused help and went back to wondering what to do next.
I waited a further two hours without seeing a soul and made a decision. I felt like a cowboy carrying his saddle from a dead horse as I slung my hold all over my shoulder and headed off tramping through the mud.
Luckily for me Martin and Kathi were not in a four wheel drive and had only got another couple of kms.I gratefully accepted a lift back to Cerro Sombrero and having checked into an hotel I headed to the Carabinieri who called a transport company.Before I went to bed the bike had been recovered.
5/9/2013
Cerro Sombrero to Punta Arenas
The original plan (before I got carried away) was to store the bike in Punta Arenas and I had been armed with the address of a Garage,probably the only place within a thousand miles that would be able to sort out my problems, so it was to Alejandro Lago's workshop I headed in a pick-up with the broken bike on the back.One sight of his immaculate workshop was enough to know that I was in good hands.
In some ways this area is remote beyond belief but I didn't stay in one hotel that didn't have free wifi so had been able to pre-book hotels all the way.The one in Punta Arenas was small, reasonable but excellent with nice room and very friendly staff.
6/9/2013
Went to see my bike which was by now spotless, sorted things with Alejandro and spent the rest of the day wandering about and figuring out how to get back to BsAs, or rather biting the bullet and booking the ticket for the 12 hour bus ride to Ushuaia to catch a flight to BsAs.
7/9/2013
Bright and early at the bus station carrying my butties and water for the ride dreading the prospect of the next 12 hours.
As things turned out it was not nearly as bad as i had feared, even the joys of four hours on a collectivo eventually passed.So every cloud has a silver lining, If I had not taken the wrong turn I would still be wondering if I could lift the bike unaided, what would happen if I broke down in the middle of nowhere and I would still be ignorant about travelling to the end of the world by bus.Of course I am now left with a 4 day journey back to my bike but at least the weather will be better.
COMING NEXT IN NOV. 2013
3/9/2013
Comodora Rivadavia to Rio Gallegas.
To say the going is boring is an understatement, mile after mile of more or less straight road through frozen windy nothing, not even a tree. I was getting used to these 600 mile days but I was starting to get weary and broke my own rule and went straight to the hotel rather than filling the tank.
I was busy congratulating myself on the good progress and decided I could definitely get back to Buenos Aires after a couple of nights in Ushuaia but in fact I had taken my foot off the pedal and in the warm glow of a nice meal had an early night in preparation for the triumphant cruise to the end of the world.
4/9/2013
Rio Gallegos to Cerro Sombrero
Riding long hours provides the opportunity to come up with most of the answers to the worlds problems as I see them and leaves time to ponder on more mudane things perhaps a little more relevant to the task at hand. Today was to be the day when some of my wondering would be answered
350 miles,2 borders to cross and a ferry was all for to day and as I set off feeling confident I ignored garages on the far side of the road waiting for one on my side, of course Murphy came into play and there was none on my side but the border was only 40 kms away and there would surely be a garage there. I don't know if I mentioned how remote these places are but riding out of the mist to find a queue waiting for the crossing to open it was evident there were no petrol pumps.My GPS showed showed fuel in 140 kms which was definitely outside my comfort zone but instead of retracing my steps I decided that an intrepid traveller doesn't turn back and after muddling through the border formalities I carried on to the ferry.Two things are forever etched into my brain from when I reached the Magellen Straights, the fuel warning light does in fact work as it came on some miles before and there was a further 39 kms to cover from where I was to the nearest filling station in Cerro Sombrero.
The ferry is a simple affair and you ride on one side and off the other ( after the crossing obviously ). I was sitting berating myself for being so stupid when a Volkswagon Caravanette rolled onto the ferry, German registered belonging to Martin and Kathi who were on a world tour.My bacon was saved and I borrowed 5 litres of fuel which I would replace in Cerro Sombrero. All was well with my world and I sped off to cover the 39 kms to the garage.
The garage was off the main route but easily found and after the filling up and replacing the fuel I bade farewell to Martin and Kathi and set off.I thought it a little strange when the GPS didn't direct me back to the road I had come off but thought this was a short cut back to the main road, it was. Unfortunately in my haste at celebrating victory the night before I hadn't cross checked the route between Mapquest and my GPS. Anyway after getting back to the main road I was directed to turn left which I duly did.After a few kms I stopped and recalculated the route, something was not right as I seemed to be the only person on this road. The trusty GPS came up with the same route so I carried on with the road getting slowly worse and my progress getting slower and slower.
To cut a long story short I found from practical experience that when you are lying sprawling in the mud it doesn't feel any better because nobody is around to see.I also discovered that even at my advanced age I can manage to pick the bike up alone, oh how I laughed when, shaking from the effort and leaning on the upright bike, I wondered how I was going to get back on it.
Your intrepid world traveller found a way and carried on into the fire. The going was slow to say the least and I proved beyond doubt that my bike is not the ideal model for offroad. Something else I hadn't realised was that mud can pack so as to make the bike unmoveable and yes, that smell was the clutch burning out.
I had only been standing next to my broken bike for 30 mins when my fellow world travellers, Martin and Kathi came along but not wanting to delay them I refused help and went back to wondering what to do next.
I waited a further two hours without seeing a soul and made a decision. I felt like a cowboy carrying his saddle from a dead horse as I slung my hold all over my shoulder and headed off tramping through the mud.
Luckily for me Martin and Kathi were not in a four wheel drive and had only got another couple of kms.I gratefully accepted a lift back to Cerro Sombrero and having checked into an hotel I headed to the Carabinieri who called a transport company.Before I went to bed the bike had been recovered.
5/9/2013
Cerro Sombrero to Punta Arenas
The original plan (before I got carried away) was to store the bike in Punta Arenas and I had been armed with the address of a Garage,probably the only place within a thousand miles that would be able to sort out my problems, so it was to Alejandro Lago's workshop I headed in a pick-up with the broken bike on the back.One sight of his immaculate workshop was enough to know that I was in good hands.
In some ways this area is remote beyond belief but I didn't stay in one hotel that didn't have free wifi so had been able to pre-book hotels all the way.The one in Punta Arenas was small, reasonable but excellent with nice room and very friendly staff.
6/9/2013
Went to see my bike which was by now spotless, sorted things with Alejandro and spent the rest of the day wandering about and figuring out how to get back to BsAs, or rather biting the bullet and booking the ticket for the 12 hour bus ride to Ushuaia to catch a flight to BsAs.
7/9/2013
Bright and early at the bus station carrying my butties and water for the ride dreading the prospect of the next 12 hours.
As things turned out it was not nearly as bad as i had feared, even the joys of four hours on a collectivo eventually passed.So every cloud has a silver lining, If I had not taken the wrong turn I would still be wondering if I could lift the bike unaided, what would happen if I broke down in the middle of nowhere and I would still be ignorant about travelling to the end of the world by bus.Of course I am now left with a 4 day journey back to my bike but at least the weather will be better.
COMING NEXT IN NOV. 2013
