Well all I can say is that the religious moment my bike experienced must have paid off as I have made it to Chile and a bit more in one piece (just) The story goes a little something like this...
After haggling with a lot of wise old bats at the market in La Paz I managed to buy absolutely nothing useful for myself, however I did manage to find a dried Llama fetus for you Jethro. As well as the mummified llama I also managed to find myself the best map I could of Salar Del Uyuni and the Atacama desert. Not only did this take me a whole day, but the best thing I could find resembled a map drawn in the early 1900s but a blind man with no hands. This was one serious doodle of a map. But I was the best I could find so beggers cant be choosers and all that.
After much tinkering with the bike with the hope that it would survive the next week off I went to ride the worlds most crappiest.... eeer sorry I mean dangerous roads. So I got there trembling with fear. I even made sure I emptied my bladder post decent in case it was really that terrifying, and what was I met with but a pretty good road really. I'm sure you were all expecting that comment, and frankly I don't care. It wasn't dangerous, Ive seen more dangerous kittens in my day. In actual fact I think it may have been one of the safest roads in Bolivia. The only reason why it got its nickname was due to the road being the only main road between two towns, so the Bolivian drivers had to use it. That coupled with the fact the drivers in Bolivia seem to pride themselves in trying to slaughter each other on the road spells a recipe for disaster. However a new road has been built to try and streamline the killing somewhat. So all this leaves you with is an empty road full of people called Charlie and Hugo bumping down on mountain bikes, without even the slightest hope of a truck running them off the edge.
So there I was on the bike honestly trying my up-most to plough down as many cyclists as I could but not having to much luck, waiting with anticipation for the pit of crocodiles or pool of ill tempered minnows which I would be forced to negotiate. Of course as expected I found none of this. The only thing I found was the bottom of the hill and a very tidy little town. Good fun but dangerous I think not.
I may write a letter suggesting they make it obligatory to drink a bottle of rum before the decent. That way it may spice it back up again, or better still just let the locals back on the road!
After I finished riding ´the road of flower arranging´ I heading along some great dirt roads on the way to Uyuni which my crayon sketch of a map suggested was about 100 km long. Two days later, with some of the most epic riding I have done I arrived near where my map said I would.
I can honestly say that this two day ride was easily one of the best rides I have done the whole trip. The roads where truly epic and yes I love to say it, it was far more ´dangerous´than the pant soiling experience I had earlier on that day. After negotiating crazy truckers, landslides. river crossing and many many sheer drops I finally decided I wasn't going to do this road in two hours like the map suggested.
Just before I finally found somewhere to camp would you believe it but I came across a dead leopard thing (later I found out it was a Jaguar). It was really cool looking apart from being a bit dead, but clearly it had taken on one of the truck driver who had been banned from plouging down half of the Eaton school leavers on the road of death, so instead he took out his anger on a rare species. I took a quick pic for the family album and went to camp.
The next day was almost a full day of the now infamous 2 hour road (ref. child's school map) After passing through an amazing variety of climates and altitudes, included a valley full of mango trees I was really taken by this area and Bolivia in general. I got so exited by the site of thousands of mango's I finally had to stop and ask a local if I could have one. He took me to his farm where he proceeded to give me about 10 before I could stop him. I was so overcome with excitement and hunger I ate 3 at once, was almost sick and was forced to leave before I vommed all over his ripening crop. Great days.
At last I reached tarmac and the road to Uyuni. I rode that section without incident but then reached the turn off to Uyuni. I bought a spare fuel can, topped up with another 1/2 liter of oil (yes still burning lots) and off I went back to the dirt. The stuff was tough with really deep sand. I was all over the place, but after a few hours I finally reached Uyuni. What an amazing few days I had experienced and with 3 more to go I think that was just the start.
So after sorting out supplies in the form of soup and more bloody tuna I was ready to ride Salar del Uyuni and the Atacama desert to Chile.What made Uyuni a half decent place was only because I met a great couple from Belgium, (Hi if you're reading this and Freddie thanks for the help on the bike, don't be upset but the hand guard broke off when I thought it a good idea to crash. Gutted! At least we tried)So armed with my Chris Columbus style doodle of a map and my trusty compass off I went. I got to the Salt which thankfully was dry and took off.
I must admit it is very surreal riding as fast as you like (which isn't fast at this altitude!) on a smooth bright white surface. I'm sure a lot of you have been here so I wont go on, but I drove about a bit and after a few hours and deciding my map was totally inaccurate I brought out the compass I headed South West to the track I hoped was there to get me into the desert.
Thankfully the track off the salt lake did exist and believe it or not I did actually find it using a compass and the map. The problem with the salt lake is none of the tracks on the salt are accurate as each year it rains and the routes I assume disappear. I soon worked out not to trust the map for this bit. (or the rest!)
After riding the rest of the day I reached San Juan. The road there was very rocky and disaster struck. Yes I lost my camera tripod. I am still gutted and all of you be thankful you are not traveling with me as the moaning didn't stop for hours. (to myself of course) So anyway you can all be pleased that no longer will you be getting the boy band pose of me with the bike in the back ground. Sorry, I know its a shame.
I got more fuel at San Juan out of coke bottles camped in the desert and waited for the next day which I knew would be tough.
So I was right day two was very tough. It began with the fatal mistake of me asking a local the way. Of course they sent me the wrong way and I am still cursing myself for Not trusting my compass bearing I had sorted out. I got totally lost... Actually not lost, just temporarily unaware of my position (for 3 hours) But on a serious note thankfully I had a compass as the route is very disorientating and there are so many tracks all unmarked. So finally I decide to trust my better Judgment and ignore the map which is useless, ignore the locals which are more useless and in fact nowhere to be seen anymore as not even they are dumb enough to ride around in the desert in midday. And so I trust my compass. After another hour or so now riding over scrub as there are no tracks I get to the brow of a hill and see the lake I have been searching for. Rather overjoyed I bump down the mountain side avoiding large cracks in the ground and reach the lake. Here I am met by hoards of tourists. None of them can appreciate how vast and empty the area is when sitting in there 4x4s being driven about. Something I wish they did as the stupid grin on my face at realizing I am on the right route was met with I'm sure thoughts of ´who is this crazy fool´Anyway, after a few pics with the pink flamingos off I went with my trusty compass.
The rest of the route was fairly easy in terms of navigation as there are tracks to follow. but the sand was very deep in places and very hard to ride in. The rest of the day was complimented by two falls in deep sand. Not too bad but tough to pick the bike up and get the momentum up again, especially at 4500+ meters.
Second night was spent camping at another salt lake full of flamingos. Very cool birds really even if they do find it hard look manly, balancing there looking all pink with one limp foot dangling down. Anyway sexual orientation of the flamingo aside, the scenery was great the whole day, really bizarre with incredible rock formations, huge mountains and incredible colours. Now who sounds like a flamingo hey!
The last day was spent riding the last section to the Chilean border. the road was ok, in fact not too bad at all. I had to check the bike out of Bolivia so rode up to the grand altitude of 5025 metros to the Aduana office. The guy was nice but after almost 1 hour of him singing along to the Bolivian equivalent of Frank Sinatra I was very ready to leave. On the way out I saw some geysers full of smelly old mud bubbling away, very flash Gordon indeed. And off I went.
About 10 milesfrom the end of the deep gravel roads and the border I was now meeting more and more 4x4 s coming along full of tourists. All the time I'm on this surface the only way to stay ´rubber side down´as they say is to stand on the pegs. Something I have become actually quite good at, and not an easy task with all the weight on the bike. Then 1/2 mile from the end a 4x4 comes tearing along decided he wont move over, pushes me into really the gravel and BANG, I'm off, and off hard. I fly off the bike, and end up on the ground with the bike top of me (A habit I must shake off I think). The 4x4 stops but doesn't help, instead all the fools inside just stare, and would you believe it but one cock even takes a picture.
I manage to kick the bike off myself and have a very sore leg. I think I was very lucky as I think my boot was prob the only thing that stopped my leg being broken.(once again I might add) Finally the driver gets out, helps me pick the bike up. After which some wealthy old cow in the back seat of the 4x4 says to me. ´maybe next time you should stop´. I seriously would have punched her if my leg wasn't hurting so much to stop me walking over to her. Instead I said nothing. Now I may be wrong but she certainly didn't look like the 2007 dirt biking champion, and in fact she looked more like the type of person who was more accustomed to riding her range-rover to the local Gin palace and back, so for her to try and tell me how I should be riding wound me up no end. For the record, if you try to stop fast on 1ft deep gravel when a jeep comes flying at you round a corner you are finished for sure, the front wheel would dig in and that would be it. The only thing I could do was try to ride it out and hope for the best. Next time ill stick her on the bike and drive at her a 50 mph, then see what she does. (deep breath....calm down Simon...)
Anyhow, finally I find myself in Argentina after deciding Chile is far too expensive. The one problem is that I managed to leave Chile without getting stamped out of the country, the Argentinian side didn't seem to care, but I'm a bit concerned on how to explain to the immigration why I am the wrong side of the border when I try to get back to Santiago. Argentina seems great, for me spring has finally sprung. It is finally nice and warm with lots of greenery and stuff. Just to test me I had yet another puncture yesterday in some stinky little village so I spent my evening with a tyre iron and a lot of bad language to get it fixed. Finally the job was done but I assure you I shall not be buying another Wallmart hand pump, its about as effective as asking a fat asthmatic child to blow up your tyre.
The ride towards Salta where I now find myself was very nice indeed. Great road in warm sun with loads of butterfly's everywhere. It felt like I was in some kind of Disney Production as I rode along surrounded by butterflys, I almost found myself breaking into a rendition of the sound of music or something equally terrible but the mounting levels of bug juice from all the butterfly's squashing against me spoiled the moment.
Lastly for now (I promise) another huge thanks again to everyone who is helping me out via the website, wish I could thank you all individually but I have to send out one big wet world-wide-web-kiss,(great alliteration) thanks so much! So there you go. It is very nice to be in a country where animals entrails take second place to good old fashioned meat. and where, yes at last there are roads signs! Yippee!
Stats:
Road kill: plus one more sparrow (they really are stupid) total count: 6 I think
Miles: An educated guess due to broken speedo but I recon about 21,500 miles maybe more.
Punctures: 2, chains 3, tyres 6 and finally me falling off: too many to remember!
Hi Simon,
Remember me from Popayán? I read up on your blog and it's good to hear you're taking the adventurous route. Don't worry about those soft cock backpackers in their tour groups. They have no idea what a real adventure is. Enjoy the rest of your trip!
Dan
Posted by: Dan Perry | December 11, 2007 at 08:53 AM
I drove down that rode from La Paz years ago when it was dangerous as fuck. There were crosses on every bend where cars/trucks/bikes/buses had driven off the edge. Fun times.
Posted by: Tom SF | January 17, 2008 at 03:11 AM