Monday, 9 March 2009

2008/09 South America on 2 BMW F650's (Part 3)

We missed the turn off for the famous ´Puenta del Inca´ but due to the heat we couldn’t be bothered turning around.

This place is littered with cacti. This one reminded me of something else.

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I thought this one was a bit rude.

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The road became long and straight again.

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And dead quiet.

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We were on our way to Salta where we would have our replacement phone sim card sent to. The route to Salta takes you through all sorts of towns, big and small. This one named Londres (Spanish for London) kept us in the dark about which way to go. Getting directions was a bit problematic.

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We found this awesome camp site on a river bed. Jeez it was nice to stick our feet in soft sand again.

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The roads became a bit boring after a while....

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and because everyone referred to us as the riders in black we became inspired to give them what they wanted and gladly started posing as Power Rangers.

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The road became twisty again towards Cafayate which surprised us how much of a tourist town it was.
Good place to have a coffee though.

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The road between Cafayate and Salta is this awesome twisty road through these beautiful valleys lined with stunning rock formations.

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It wasn’t too hot and zipping through these twisty turns was just a great surprise and change.

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It all ended when we entered Salta.
As usual finding the main square was pretty easy and it´s always a good reason to stop for a cuppa.

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Everywhere along our trip people asked us if we were contesting in the Dakar Rally, but the people of Salta took it a step further and celebrated the arrival of the first contestants with a parade through the streets passing the bikes in honour.

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We didn’t have the heart to tell them we’re not doing it this year. Maybe the next.

Because the Sim card hadn’t arrived yet we thought we’d take the opportunity to ride out to Iruya where the Guinness add was filmed. The one with the massive pint glass made of books that gets set off by a domino off all this local crap lying around.
Anyway. The road takes your across the tropic of Capricorn.

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The weather became worse the further north we went. And although we were lucky by not having any rain during the day, we had our fist proper rain storm that night. We found a camp site along the side of the road littered with cacti and other thorny scrub. So we had to be careful finding our way through it.

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They are really everywhere.

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Handy place to dry your thongs though.

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The next morning we met an Argentinean biker from Ushuaia (the southern most city in the world) on his way back there from a trip including Bolivia. He had some good info for us and we were already looking forward to that place.

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As the clouds starting coming in we took the turn off from Ruta 9 to Iruya. The scenery became very alpine.

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You do have to endure the occasional dickhead though. Two in this case.

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This area must have seen consistent rain for a while because the dirt turned to mud a lot.

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With heaps of crossings.

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And then it became just riverbed.

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This road was a dead end road to Iruya so we’d have to return this way again. My GPS showed that we’d done several km’s of this stuff already and there was at least 20-30 more of it until it would cross a larger creek. With the clouds starting to let go some thunder and us being knackered, we decided to turn around.

We got to test our rain gear at least.

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So after spending Christmas in Salta, we´ll be spending New Years here as well. At least I get to set off some fireworks just like back home in Holland. All in all, it´s not a bad place to be holed up in.

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The memory of being stuck in Almaty in Kazakhstan is still very fresh in our mind.

It felt great to finally be on the road again. We’re not that great at sitting still. We took Route 9 the way we came back from our failed attempt to conquer the road to Iruya. This time it didn’t rain. It’s a nice ride really. Nice and green, a pleasant change.

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There was going to be no sitting around sipping latté’s until we’d hit San Pedro de Atacama in Chile. The aim was to cross the famed Paso de Jama. To get there you go over several passes and it was beginning to get cold.

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Argentina has it’s own salt lake (as does Chile) but it’s no patch on the Salar in Bolivia. It’s set in this eerie valley that as luck would have it would be our camp site.

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It felt like there was no-one and nothing for miles around, and being low on fuel didn’t help the eeriness. Nice sun set though.

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We felt hardcore in the morning though. Funny that, eh.

The border post surprised us with this massive queue.

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But they finally decided to open a separate desk for private vehicles. So it was time to conquer the pass.

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The colours were just beautiful, and we were getting very excited about the Bolivian Altiplano. (BTW, the pass it fully paved. Just couldn’t resist to pose on the dirt).

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The pass peaks at 4830m, and I have to say. Again we felt justified to choose the so called unreliable F650 for our travel bikes. FI is awesome. It´s like you’re riding a diesel. You turn the throttle and nothing happens. On the steep sections I had to down shift, but it purred like at sea level. A bit harder to start though, due to the narrow air intake, but it gets there every time.

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In town we found some nice parking for the hard working beasts.

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The town itself surprised us as well. It’s a collection of tourist tack shops, tour agents, money changers and pizza restaurants.

Mars had come down with what we thought was a bladder infection and was on sickening antibiotics for a few days now, but it didn’t seem to lift. We did a bit of homework, and we found that it can become rather serious, so we decided to head to the hospital in Calama and hour out of town.

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The road passes the Valle de Luna (Lunar Valley) which I had completely forgotten about. Again you have to go over a pass to get into another valley towards Calama.

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It’s a desert really. I think it marks the start for the Atacama Desert. No trip goes without visiting a desert it seems.

While waiting for the necessary tests we decided to head into the Valle de Luna, which made for a nice day trip.

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The doctor who saw us spoke reasonable but broken English, and said that the drugs we had taken is considered immune for this infection in Chile and gave Mars these other ones. These ones make her twice as sick unfortunately. The list of side effects is pretty rough. So heading into Bolivia’s altiplano was going to be no picnic, but she wanted to keep moving none the less. Hopefully these pills would kick it.

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The first attraction on offer was Laguna Verde. We nearly missed it, and actually lost the track going to it. So after a bit of off piste action we were back on track.

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Or several tracks really. All as bad as each other. Often heavily corrugated, but also often loose sandy/ gravelly soil. Weird really. Definitely the worst and deepest corrugation we’ve seen. Worse than Kazakhstan (although there it’s the huge crater potholes on the once paved roads that are the killer) and Mongolia. So deep that we couldn’t speed over it, although the big sandy section made sure of that. Luckily the whole bit was within our fuel range anyway.

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It is absolutely stunning there though. The colours are so vivid. So we didn’t mind going slow.

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Sometimes there is a track though. This one is on the way to the customs office, which is 14 or so kilometres from the immigrations office because of a mine. Must be keen to get those taxes, eh. The customs happens to be at an elevation of 5024m. Unbelievable, and a record for us that will remain for some time I reckon. Getting off the bike makes you short of breath. We had to actually find an officer, but in the absence of one a helpful mine workers gave us the forms and even stamped it for us!!!!

Second attraction (yep, it’s a national park with all this listed out) are some hot springs. But as we arrive there was a whole bus of backpackers hanging out in it, so I took a miss. It’s a concrete pool, not a natural rock pool, for all you romantics.

2008/09 South America on 2 BMW F650's (Part 4)

We did have a yarn with some fellow bikers though.

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This is a big bike route. We had already met some guys on F650 GS´s, Transalp and even and HP2 that turned back due to the heavy corrugation.

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We had enough energy for a Power Rangers pose though. Just.

The last bit to Laguna Colorada proved to be the hardest bit. It’s always the last bit, isn’t it. Mars had a big stack and was caught under neigh the 280 kg bike for as long as it took me to u-turn in it to get back to her. She had hurt her ankle rather badly judging by her reaction. She always gets up and dusts herself off and keeps a brave face not wanting to be the wimpy girl amongst men, but she struggled standing on it, and changing gear was painful.

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As always the war story is not substantiated by the photo because it never looks as bad, but your foot disappears in this stuff on the sides of the wheel track when you put it down. Makes for interesting moments at photo stops.

We didn´t think much of Laguna Colorada, but it has a hostal to prevent having to camp in the freezing conditions.

We were told that the next section to Villa Alota would be just a bad or worse. It started off nicely, with more soft sandy tracks. Mars was to set the pace, and it became a first and second gear affair.

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The saddles between valleys are usually very rocky.

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I had to put the kidney belt back on, because I really started to feel the constant bumping up and down. The sun is right above on this one. Even if Mars wasn’t injured, we wouldn’t have been able to fly over it. Would have a bike left other wise.

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Stone tree. Couldn’t believe there is actually a parking sign near it.

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When we came to the three Laguna’s , one of which called Hondo, we found this half finished eco hostel type place. My GPS showed my that the main road built by the mines to the coast of Chile wasn’t far, so we stopped to be cuppa and some directions. The bloke told me that indeed go that direction and you would find it. But for another 30 or k´s we rode on this 4WD track. Rocky at least, with one creek crossing for good practice. But we getting really low on fuel. Just after leaving the hotel place my light came on and I calculated that due to the low gears we got shocking mileage. There was a very good possibility that we wouldn’t have enough to get to Villa Alota, and we were starting to freak out silently. We passed no one for 4/5ths of it until finally we saw another 4WD with some backpackers on a tour of the Altiplano. The place is littered with it, which kind of ruins the in the middle of nowhere experience. You stop to have lunch, and 4 of them rock up. But this time it was a god sent. The bloke told me that all we had to do was to stick to this track and we’d find the main road. Villa Alota was according to him only 30-40 km, which may only have given us a 20km spare fuel range.

We did finally find it and managed to find some fuel in town. Out of a jerry can, but still, enough to get to Uyuni and the salt flat.

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We thought it was time for some props.

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We met 2 Mexicans and a English rider on 1200 GS´s. They were going to take the same route as we just did. The Mexican riders didn’t look very comfortable on the dirt, so I’m not sure how they went, but we made sure we’d pass on our experiences. They in turn told us that the salt flat was un-rideable. Ah well, we’d just hire a 4WD and ruin that instead. What about that Linox spray I had carted all the way from Aussie though???

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The ride to Uyuni was all easy dirt riding really. Really dusty so I rode as close and next to Mars as I could. She had a newfound confidence and was flying. I kind of felt like we were doing a special in the rally really. Good fun.

In Uyuni we were again surprised by the size of tourism. Full of pizza places and backpackers. Not wanting to sit with 6 or 7 in a land cruiser we sussed out a few places for private tours instead. One told us of another couple also on a bike who had the same plan, so they hooked us up and that’s how we met Trevor (aka Sp4ce) and Nina. Regulars on ADVrider. http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=404564
We got on great and because they were going the way we came and we the way they came we were able to share all our experiences.

The tour first kicks you out at this train grave.

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But than gets you onto the salar. Wet as…

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Makes cool reflections though.

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As a kid I’ve always seen discovery channel footage of the island in the middle being this desolate place. But a it turns out there is a bar (where Nina opted to get some coldies. Bless her for being the token alcy instead of me.), toilets, shop, registration office where you have to get a ticket, and heaps of salt tables for all the 4WD´s to parks their passengers for lunch.

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They make sure you know who where you are.

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A must do is taking photo’s of you balancing on things.

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Mars preferred the all-fours option. Gotta love a girl like that. The things she won’t do for a Toblerone.

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For some reason the Salar section has this hexagon pattern covering it.

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Trevor and Nina wanted an operator who was willing to stay till sunset, and ours was apparently the only one.

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It gets pretty cold pretty quick at this altitude.

From Uyuni we rode to Potosi, famous for being able o buy dynamite in the shops to give to the miners.

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This was going to be our last dirt road in Bolivia and was really good.

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We had some trouble find a decent hotel with parking, and because it was raining, and Mars feeling like crap we had to settle for this festy one. Being not very inspired and Mars not kicking the infection but sill getting sick each time taking the medication, w decided that we didn’t come here to buy dynamite but to ride. So riding we’d do.

Next stop….. La Paz.

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Trevor warned us for La Paz, spending 2 hours finding a hotel and not finding that La Paz warrants the stay. So we decided to pass through on our way to Coroico. End point for the famed ´Camino de la Muerte´ or Road of Death. It’s now upgraded in certain sections and replaced in other sections so that there is not only about 40km left of it.

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It starts off like this in the La Paz side of the pass, but the new section are an amazing piece of infrastructure. We did most of it in the fog, which was scary, but what we didn’t know was that the government somehow screwed up the signage. Leaving the exit of the through road with the main entrance road into the actuall town un-signed, meanwhile signing the back door entrance. At this point it was pitch dark, and all we could make out was that there were these collection of buildings lit on the top of the mountain. The track itself was paved with cobble stones and only wide enough for one car and no side barrier. So knowing that there was a steep to near vertical drop on the side of the track, we stuck to the inside like flies stick to shit. There were numerous switchbacks and the occasional washout leaving a bit hole giving you the occasional glimpse of the world below. We really wandered if this could really be the main route supplying a tourist town of a decent size, but we didn’t miss any turnoff. We were sure if it. We met a 4WD who asked us what the road was like, which didn’t help our worries, but finally there were some farm animals and buildings. The last section into the town felt like a bit of an achievement. As it turned out it wasn’t the main road at all, and asking why there was no sign for the main exit but there was one for the backdoor entrance, he made the stupid sign of the finger on the side of the head. Great. We went back to the end section (lazy) to see how bad it was, and even though the end section widened out, it was still pretty dodgy.

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View down.

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We spent two nights in Coroico to chill and suss out the story about the Road of Death, and found out that it’s now a tourist attraction with hundreds of backpackers going down it on mountain bike followed by a mini-bus with 100m long ropes in it. We did notice that half the traffic on the new road were those mini-buses on their way back to La Paz.. We met some of them and they told us that we should not try going up it during most of the hours around noon, because they come flying around the corners and we’d clean up a few. That put us in a predicament because we didn’t want to go back to the turn off on the La Paz side and go back to Coroico and back to La Paz because we didn’t want to have to stay there. Anyway, logistical problems aside, the decision was made for us in end as the morning of our departure it was pissing down, and the whole areas was covered in fog and reduced the dirt roads to mud. Bad luck, but we figured we had done our own road of death corny as may be.

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The main road out of town reminded us how steep this area really is.

So, we’d push on to Copacabana on Lago Titicaca back up the new road of death, but perfectly safe.

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There are tons of these suspended sections of road.

Lake Titicaca surprised me, because all I had ever seen of the place was the area near the reed islands. This area reminded us a bit of Wales or northern South Island New Zealand.

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You cross the lake at it’s narrowest point on little wooden barges.

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Mars worked hard keeping the bike upright.

Again we would run out of daylight, but were treated with a beautiful sunset.

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We crossed the border into Peru and found the most meticulous customs officer on this trip. Luckily the friendliness we encountered from the Bolivians crossed the border into Peru, and this stall keeper made us feel very welcome.

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We realised that we couldn't complete the planned route earlier on, so when we crossed into Peru we started getting used to the idea of finishing it off in Lima. Mars was still feeling crook from all the antibiotics, our finances were in tatters after the pound Stirling crashed and from what we heard, Lima would be the most obvious port to organise shipping from. So when we finally hit Cusco we thought it would be a good place to start asking for some quotes.

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When we walked into TNT's office to see what the possibilities were, we didn't actually expect they'd handle 2 bikes. But their quote was actually pretty good, and the agent was filling us with confidence.

Cusco is the ancient capitol of the Inka culture, and is famous for it's original stone walls that have a slight incline.

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We even had one of those walls in our hotel.

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It's a real tourist town, with all the things you'd expect to keep the tourists occupied.

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It's also the stepping stone for Machu Pichu. We didn't opt to get up extra early for the sunrise, which was a good thing.

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The fog did start to lift though.

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Until we got the famous view.

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Arranging shipping in a country like Peru takes for ever, but we finally did end up at the crate building stage. Unfortunately for us the crate maker didn't know about the 'measure twice, cut once' mantra. So the first crate (my crate) was a mess compared to the second one. Must have learned his lesson with it.

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This was halfway through. They tried to talk me out of putting up plywood around it, but after I saw their holding area I'm glad I kept my food down.

So away it was for us ourselves. Getting out of South America is a bit hit and miss with flights, so we ended up braking the golden rule when we left our bikes behind. Thoughts of finding them as parts on Ebay went through our minds.

Our flights took us back to Lima where they voted for a new constitution only a day before.

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And a bit of hanging time in Buenos Aires.

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So now we're back home and bike less. Well, I did manage to find a great deal on some trail bikes :), so not really bike less. No gear means no riding though. ;(
Should have it all back by the middle or end of April. Fingers crossed.