The Final Ride

Posted on March 28, 2012 by greg

The Final Ride …. In South America anyway ….  for NOW!!

It was cold the morning backed my bike out of the hostel and on to the street in Buenos Aries. As I was attaching the panniers on the bike my fingers started to get cold and I started to consider getting out my warm gloves. The gloves were at the bottom of the boxes and I decided to leave them where they were, after all it was only 30 kilometers to the airport and I could tough it out. I had to take my bike to the airport and prepare it to be shipped back to Canada.  With mixed emotions I turned the key and started the bike, this ride would be my final one in South America, bringing to and end over 8 months of incredible adventure.

The route to the airport was easy, straight, left and take the ramp onto the autopista and follow it until it ends at the airport. Just as I pulled into the street the sun came out and started to warm things up, the sun on my face felt good. Not far into my ride the street turned to cobble stone and I found myself making an unplanned turn down a random street. I love riding on cobble stone, we don’t have any in Canada, and before I knew it I was just riding in circles on cobble stone streets, enjoying the final ride in the sunshine. I was riding slow and people started to honk at me, in a hurry to get to work I guess, but I paid no attention and just kept enjoying the scenery of old European style buildings, cafes and cobble stone streets.  Realizing I was only delaying the inevitable I reluctantly made my way to the autopista and headed for the airport.

The process for shipping my bike at the airport could not have been easier. They ship a lot of bikes from here and everyone helped point me in the right direction, I didn’t even have to ask for directions as all the airport workers just pointed me in the direction I needed to go. Once inside the cargo bay I had a large space to work in to prepare the bike for safe shipment by disconnecting the battery, removing the windshield, mirrors, panniers and additional lights. The pallet was already waiting for me when I arrived and with some help we rolled it on the pallet and strapped it securely in place. A final inspection of the VIN number, some basic questions, wrap the bike in plastic wrap and I was done.  I won’t see my bike again until I land in Toronto April 2nd.

“Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it. “ Greg Anderson 

Links

Shipping a bike out of Argentina? Use Dakar Motos they make it easy http://www.dakarmotos.com/argentina.htm

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La Boca, Argentina

Posted on March 25, 2012 by greg

“Don’t go there its dangerous”  – stranger on the street when I told them I was going to La Boca.

I am so tired of hearing this “Don’t go there its dangerous”  and then the rants of all the bad things that are going to happen to me. Ever since I pulled out of my drive way 8 months ago I have been bombarded with warnings of my inevitable death. Nobody trusts their neighbour, in the next place I will surely die, but first I will be tortured. One day I will die, but first I will live.

“Don’t go there its dangerous”   that expression makes me want to go even more. I always go, I always meet the best and most interesting people and I am always warned against the next place, but never the place I am in.  I ask people “what happened to you when you went there” and the answer is always the same “I have never been there”.

La Boca was a fun and interesting place bright and colourful with lots of street shows and endless opportunities to be entertained. I felt safe, so many tourists, all bussed in because they were afraid. I walked the 30 minutes from my hostel and got a blister, I need new shoes, next time I will ride over.

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Buenos Aries, Argentina

Posted on March 22, 2012 by greg

I’ve parked the bike and am being cosmopolitan for a while.

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Into the Wind and Rain, and Floods, and Wind and Wind

Posted on March 14, 2012 by greg

I left El Calafate early as I wanted to make good time on what would be the first day of many before reaching Buenos Aries. The weather co-operated most of the morning, not too cold, reasonable winds for Patagonia and no rain, but that was all about to change.

I went to Rio Gallegos for fuel and food and when leaving that is when the weather changed.  The winds were so strong that I could barely keep the bike on the road. I have never fought winds this strong before, it took all of my strength, the power of a 1000cc engine and lots of luck to keep my bike for being pushed off the road. I was making terrible time going north on highway 3 and was becoming exhausted form riding in such conditions. The following day was much of the same, riding in high winds with very few places to stop and rest.

On third day the rains came. I managed to stop soon enough at a gas station in a small city called Sierra Grande and get my rain gear on in time, but decided to wait the rain out.  That is when my friend David arrived, soaked to the bone riding his KLR 650. I met David back on the ferry crossing the Straights of Magallanes and now our paths were crossing again. The rains let up long enough for us to get 2 kilometers away from shelter and then they started again, harder than they ever were. We had to ride through flooded streets with water so high that it came up over the foot pegs of the bikes.  Parts of Route 3 were also flooded but fortunately the water was not so deep that we could not cross. I have not seen rain this hard since my trip in Vietnam.

The following day brought the sun and of course the wind. It was becoming tiring and boring riding this long desolate highway and fighting the constant winds and changing weather. We decided to rest of a day in the beach town of Mar del Plata. It was not much of a rest though as we had issues finding proper parking for the bikes and I spent most of the day doing laundry following up on e-mails.

We finally made it to Buenos Aries and found a hotel offering “motorcycle parking”. It was here that I met up with 5 other riders that I had met during my adventure.  One of the guys, Kevin I first met in Alaska then again in Lima, Ushuaia and now here, small world. With 7 bikes and bikers here at the hostel it made for a fun filled night of beer and tall tales. Most of us are planning on staying in Buenos Aries for a week or more and why not, the sun is shining, the wind has stopped, finally.

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Fire, Ice and Fruit

Posted on March 6, 2012 by greg

Tierra del Fuego – Land of Fire

After leaving Ushuaia I headed for the border with Chile to cross Tierra del Fuego.  I should have stopped writing about how easy border crossing has become as this one was about to become more challenging.  You are not allowed to bring fruit into Chile and I had with me a banana, 2 apples and a peach, which I declared on my customs form. I figured that since I had only 162 kilometers of barren land to cross that my lunch would be a non-issue, how wrong I was. First I was told that it was a good thing that I was honest for declaring my “contraband” as the fine for bringing fruit into Chile was very large. I then had my lunch confiscated (just like grade school all over again). The worst part was still to come, the Chilean border guards did not give me back my vehicle import papers, in all the commotion over my lunch it also slipped my mind.

I stopped and checked my map to find the shortest way out of Tierra del Fuego and back into Argentina. My map showed three roads and the one I came in on was the shortest. After about 20 kilometers I started to think the road looked much different, I assumed the road looked different going north and didn’t give it a second thought, until the road looked very different and was a lot more difficult to ride.  I eventually had to ask a guy herding sheep if I was going the right way and fortunately I was. He told me that I had  only another 25 kilometers of go to the Straights of Magellan’s and the ferry to the final border crossing. I made it this far without a GPS and I knew I would find my way out eventually.  On the ferry I met another rider, David, from the US and we watched as black and white dolphins swam beside the ferry during our 20 minute crossing.

At the border crossing I was asked for my vehicle import papers by the Chilean customs officer. I explained my “adventures in fruit” fiasco from only 2 hours ago. My explanation resulted in a lot of head shaking, a short lecture, lots of fast talking Spanish, more stamps and forms until I was eventually free to move the 2 meters over to the Argentina customs agents.  Lesson learned, when crossing into Chile – beer and chocolate for lunch.

Once in Rio Gallegos Argentina I stopped at the Honda dealer to buy oil for the bike and it was here that David noticed that I had broken my front shock. I felt nothing and had it not been for all the fluid over the front of my bike it would have gone unnoticed. The parts and proper service are not available here in Patagonia and I decided to ride without having it repaired, I have two front shocks and feel things will be OK.

I rode to El Calafate and visited the “Glacier Perito Moreno”. I have never seen such a wall of ice before, it was amazing. Unfortunately I did not get to see any huge chunks fall off into the water below but I did see several smaller pieces which put into perspective the size of the glacier. Truly amazing!  I have seen such incredible things on this trip and this was another one that I am glad I did not miss.

Given my broken front shock I have decided not to visit Torres del Paine or ride Route 40, two things I really wanted to do on this trip. Better to have unfinished business than a major repair or accident here at the end of the world. I will add it to my list of “unfinished business” which also includes; The Sacred Valley in Peru, Salt Flats in Bolivia and riding Mexico with my friend Mike. Sounds like the making of “Greg’s Adventure PART 2”.

 

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Reaching Ushuaia

Posted on March 1, 2012 by greg

When I woke up on the morning of February 27th in Rio Gallegos, Argentina I had the original plan of taking 2 days to do the 600 kilometers to Ushuaia. For me, 600 kilometers is not far, but I also had to exit Argentina, enter Chile, take a ferry across the Straights of Magallanes, ride approximately 150 kilometer of gravel roads in questionable condition, exit Chile, reenter Argentina cross the Garibaldi Mountain Pass until I would finally be in Ushuaia. So why rush, the goal was to arrive and not die doing it.

The border crossing into Chile was busy but uneventful and before I knew it I was on the ferry crossing the Straights of Magallanes. The boat was right there when I arrived as if it was wait just for me. Next came the gravel road ad it looked like it had been graded within the last few days, how perfect. Several Lamas, fox and the occasional Rhea  kept crossing in front of me but luckily far enough off that I did not have to slow down and was actually able to get a couple of photos. Exit Chile, enter Argentina and I was back on the pavement and getting fuel. With a full tank of gas I knew I could make it to Ushuaia without stopping, it was still early so daylight was not an issue either. The closer I got the more excited I became, the end of the road, Ushuaia, months of riding and the final goal was only a few hundred kilometers away.

I stopped at the sign pointing to Rio Grande, the city I planned on stopping at for the night , it was still early only 3pm, I could make it to Ushuaia before nightfall. It was also my daughter’s birthday and I could send her a birthday greeting from the most southern city in the world if I just pushed on. So I rode on. It was cold and I was riding fast, getting colder with every kilometer. As I rounded a corner in the road there was an obligatory police check point and I was motioned to stop. Officer in Spanish “you are riding too fast”, Me in English – I don’t speak Spanish, Officer in Spanish “where are you going”, me in Spanish “Ushuaia! I have been riding for over 7 months from Canada”, Officer in Spanish “you do speak Spanish!!! go on but slow down”. I guess 180 km/hr was a bit fast, and I slowed down to something more reasonable for the mountain pass.

And then it appeared, the city of Ushuaia! Photos were taken, a birthday wish was sent and much beer was consumed. I spent the following day (Feb 28th) taking it all in, I rode a total of 59,218 kilometers across the Americas and it was a bit overwhelming. The 29th was spent exploring Ushuaia and answering the question “what’s next”.   Answer – ride North, it’s not like it is possible to go any further south.

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Ushuaia !!!

Posted on February 28, 2012 by greg

I finally made it!!!  Tired and exhausted but I made it. Enjoy the photos, I will psot details after I celebrate!

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Argentina – Country #14

Posted on February 24, 2012 by greg

Border crossing have become somewhat routine and uneventful and Argentina, my 14th country was no different.  Line up and fill out a form, stamp,  another line and another stamp: welcome to Argentina.

Wanting to get south I just started to ride once I was across the border, stopping just briefly for a few photos by a lake. The riding was great, the sun was shining the road was perfect and I was able to cover a lot of distance. I made it to the town of Esquel and started my hotel search. Noticing three other riders obviously travelling, I quickly joined them and we started a hotel search together. My new friends were from Alaska and were also heading to Ushuaia. We became instant friends and started to share tall tales over beer shortly after the bikes were securely parked. I am amazed at how small the world has become, my Alaska friends crossed the Darien Gap the same day I did and we actually met once before back in Colombia, we have also since met many of the same other motorcycle travelers.

After saying goodbye to my Alaska friends I continued to head south. My bike was about to reach 70,000 kilometers ad I love watching the numbers change when I reach such milestones.  Fortunately I was able to keep one eye on the odometer and the other on the road, because without warning a bird that looked like a baby Ostrich ran right in front of my bike. Braking, weaving the bike and I missed the stupid bird by just a few centimeters. I pulled over to try and get a photo but by the time I stopped, took of my think winter gloves, unzipped my jacket to grab the camera the bird was gone and so was the 70,000km milestone, the odometer read 70,001 km. After fighting high winds and cold I finally made it to the small town of Sarmiento and looked up the bird I saw on the road, it is called Rhea Americana.

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“El Canuck” rides again

Posted on February 22, 2012 by greg

As I looked out the window of the ferry, watching the sunset over the mountains of Patagonia I felt both relief and frustration. Relief that I was moving once again and that in another 36 hours I will be riding towards Argentina and my ultimate goal, Ushuaia. Frustration because I have lost three days of riding while sitting around Puerto Chacbuco, another day and a half on this ferry and that I will have to head north before I can turn east then ultimately south towards Ushuaia.  Heading north does not feel right, Ushuaia is south and I have not gone north since August 18, 2011, the day I reached Prudhoe Bay Alaska.

I feel fortunate that the protests did not turn violent and that other than additional ferry costs I am not out anything other than riding time. It was time that was well spent, reading, communicating with friends at home and making new friends. I met other tourists, a Dutch family and an American couple, in the same situation as me and we became instant friends. Sharing travel stories, discussing our situation, cooking and giving each other Chilean rebel names helped pass the time and make the best of a bad situation. I became “el Canuck”, the others will have to remain anonymous; anonymity is part of our rebel code.

After two nights on the uncomfortable ferry I ended up back where I originally started almost a week ago. I now have a new route planned, one that will take me away from the hot spots in Chile and into Argentina tomorrow. Despite the problems I had a great time in Chile, and hope to one day return. It doesn’t hurt that one of the last people I spoke to here was a pretty young woman on the ferry who smelled like fresh peaches, good final impression.

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Stuck in Chile

Posted on February 17, 2012 by greg

The ferry in Chile was not quite what I was expecting; it felt more like a cargo ship than a ferry and smelled like one as well. The ferry was cheap and was going to get me around much of the nasty parts of Route 40 and closer to my goal of Ushuaia Argentina. Or so I thought.

After 36 hours and several  stops the ferry was finaly in the harbour of Puerto Chacabuco, Chile. It was here that I was told about the protests in the region, and not by anybody official but by another passenger, who was also just informed. When bad news is delivered by a pretty woman it is somehow easier to take, Marie was very attractive and her news was very bad, for me anyway. It seems that this entire region is protesting over various issues and has set up road blockades throughout the region, no vehicles in or out. People wanting to leave on foot were free to walk and hope for the kindness of strangers to give them passage from one road blockade to the next.

Most of this news was given to me after I disembarked the ferry, and as I watched it sail away empty I considered my options. I decided to try my luck and see if the protestors would let me pass, I just wanted to cross into Argentina and be on my way. At the first barricade, where there were tires burning and many people were gathered. With nothing more than a smile and a brief explanation as to where I was going and why, I was allowed to pass and told to have a nice trip. Easy, what nice people.  At the second barricade about 10 kilometers later, I simply slowed down, drove past the burning tires and waved, waves were returned and I was on my way. This was getting easy and I was excited about getting to Argentina.

 I approach the third barricade, in Puerto Aysen, this one looked like a battle zone, tires were burning, rocks were all over the road and it was much bigger and dirtier than the others. I was approached my two serious looking men, before saying anything we shook hands, handshakes have gone along way for me on this trip and I was hoping that this time would be no different.  But it would be. The more serious looking of the two men told me I could not pass. I explained to him where I was going and why, he didn’t care. I waited for a few minutes, trying to think of more Spanish words to help me out of the situation. I decided to ask about the protest and hopefully gain some insight on what was happening. Form what I could understand the entire region is protesting over, fuel prices, needing a university and life being difficult, I am sure there was more but I didn’t understand everything he said. He also informed me that talks had been going on with government officials since 10am that morning, it was now 1pm.  I showed sympathy and great concern but was still not allowed to pass.

I returned to Puerto Chacabuco to find a hotel and think about my options, there won’t be another ferry for 3 days. The protestors at the first blockade helped me find a cheap place to stay. In town I met a European family travelling the same route as I am in their van, they have been stuck here for 4 days already and filled me in on the events that have been going on. Apparently the protests started small and there were only a few blockades set up, but the other day they did turn violent. In Puerto Aysen rocks were thrown at police, police used water cannons and fired rubber bullets.  Since then the blockades have doubled and the police are nowhere to be seen. This was quite surprising given how nice people have been and how calm everyone appears. Right now, just outside my window teenagers are playing soccer in a field and a big dog I napping on the sidewalk.

There is only one road out of this town. There is one gas station and they are not open. There are very few stores and their supplies are getting low (I bought beer and chocolate bars, I am good). If the protest does not stop in three days I will have no choice but to return the way I came and take an alternate route. I have time to study the map.

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