March 24, 2014

The Long Road to the Land of Fire

 

 
Happy to be back daydreamin' on the road amid the mountains
 

Getting back to Sixto took some effort but by the moment I arrived at the hotel where I left him over 5 weeks ago I was ready to write a new chapter. I took two consecutive overnight buses and over 50 hours of waiting at bus stations and several coaches to make it. My psyche was now prepared for long days on the road. A fresh start where my days would return to having a strong sense of what was around me with the ability to stop wherever and whenever to take a rest, chat to someone, sit on the kerb eating a snack or just take things in simply and spontaneously as they presented themselves.

After adding some new parts and minor adjustments we were crossing back into Argentina within a day. I bit off a little more than I could chew on my first day back, getting caught in heavy evening rains and feeling a slight strain on my shoulder. It was all worth it and brought back memories of my first days back in California, back when my nose was for smelling new leather against strong winds and my ears were for listening to the engine holding a steady pace cruising through a silent valley, right hand on the throttle and left resting gently on my knee.

I rest in Salta for a couple days, hopelessly fishing in a nearby lake and enjoying games of pool and jenga. I meet an animated Jose one afternoon returning from a fish, a Triumph rider from decades ago who was shocked and delighted to see me cleaning my chain by a small village square, unaware this model was still being made. He was so excited he invited me to his place nearby to proudly show me the classic bikes he was restoring and photos of him with his Bonneville from the early 70's.

My short pause in Salta was to wait for Phil to arrive so we could share the ride to Tierra del Fuego, the island at the end of the world some 5,000km's south of here. Phil would be my riding partner for the following 8 days, a setup I wasn't accustomised to but was keen on trying as we seemed to have similar travel attitudes. Jenn and I met Phil at this same hostel a couple days after my fall. Phil also has his arm in a sling and similarly has fallen off his bike, he in Peru, breaking his collarbone and was working at the hostel whilst waiting for his bone to heal. He had been slowly riding down from Canada via Alaska with his sister who had left him at Cusco and was riding ahead at this stage.


Our timing to continue our journeys had aligned and we set sail for Ushuaia from here, charging through the flat plains of central Argentina, her southern Atlantic coast and across the Magellan Strait to Tierra del Fuego. We both wanted to move fast as the end of summer and snow was fast approaching, leaving time to explore the Andes to the west as we head north afterwards.  



We stopped to take in a weekend Gaucho festival but our long days were mainly spent on the highways, stopping just to re-fuel and grab a bite to eat.


 
The week was a mix of isolated highways and vacant landscapes, silence, wild animals, memorable sunset riding before finding a place to set up camp for the night and enjoying the spontaneous hospitality of kind Argentinians and Chileans. We crossed the  37' S line of latitude and into the semideserts of Patagonia where the winds became fierce at times, occasionally feeling like we were riding at 45' angles to maintain balance and being pushed into the left lanes with little preparation.   
 
 
 
 
 
 
Only one night did we pay for a bed, struggling to find a place to set up out tents in Monteros, we approached a group of elderly men chatting by the streets at a late hour and was offered gentle Hugo's backyard without hesitation to setup our tents in the rain, accompanied by a morning coffee, food and a teary farewell.  
 
 
 
 
Wild camping by the tidal waters along the coast battling winds throught the night. Other nights were spent on living room floors, municipal camp sites or a patch of dirt behind a gas station.
 

 
Then there were four. On arriving in Comodoro Rivadavia we met up with Jayne, Phil's sister who was waiting patiently for him and Ian, another Canadian biker ready to hit the road. We stayed at Pedro's, enjoying more generous hospitality and indoor sleeping.   
 
 
 
Empanada nights with Pedro and family
 
 

 
Three scruffy and smelly bikers pretty content with lunch cooking away beside us when we stopped in Rio Grande at Ricardo and Fabiana's. Argentinian hospitality ensures when you meet a fellow motorcyclist he invited you to lunch at his place, disappears to the butcher and returned to cook you kilo's of steak.    
 
 
 
Phil ceremoniously placing his travel sticker on a gas station window 
  
 
 
 
 
 A memorable night which will stay with me for a long time was the day we crossed into Chile in Tierra Del Fuego. As the sun set we were miles from the closest town, following a dusty gravel track we pulled over and on approaching the farm house to ask for permission to camp on the private property, Phil and Jayne were met for a big smile from Mario at the door. He invites us in to the warm house away from the afternoon winds and we sat chatting for hours by the fire about life down here over fresh butter, bread, coffee and mate`. Mario's the kind of guy you dream of meeting on the road, living between here managing the sheep station and his family life in the nearby city he had a warming approach, an intelligent person who offered a frank insight into local life and Chile and an inquisitive and curious listener. He offered us space in his barn to lay our mats down and we continued this new friendship the next morning over breakfast before setting off.
 
 
 
 
Finally making it to Ushuaia after a long week, the place where civilisation stops, a town amongst the mountains with a certain outpost charm and ideal for resting after reaching a milestone and a heavy night of celebatory drinking with Phil and Ian. I farewelled my fellow riders and relaxed for a few further days with new travellers, cooking and watching films by the heaters while the snow fell swiftly through the windows.
 
 
                                
 
My riding buddies - Dan, me, Phil, Ian and Jayne over a barbeque in Ushuaia.