New Video

Just to let you know I´ve managed to put together the first half of Argentina in a video.

Tomorrow off to La Serena.

Santiago

Santiago City is huge, but the evidence of wealth is instantly obvious. The amount of consumer goods and variety of cars shows the amount of imports and lower import taxes. After a good nights rest (an early one after the last week) I headed out on the Sunday to firstly explore the park just behind the hotel, Cerro Santa Lucia, from which you get a good view of the city and an idea of the amount of pollution over the city that stops you getting a view of the mountains just behind Santiago.


Cerro Santa Lucia


There are mountains back there somewhere



I also met an American man, Rene Brauchtsch, who was here to see the Doctors at the local hospital (he must be in his late 70’s) he said that he was going to a shopping mall the other side of the city in the afternoon and invited me along, sure why not, he speaks excellent Spanish, having been marries to a Chilean woman for 50 years. It turned out that the mall was only a ten minute walk from the BMW agent that I was to visit for the tyres the next day, bit it was a chance to try out the subway system and see the affluent side of Santiago getting ready for Christmas.


I´m sure I haven´t been here before


Apparently one of the more Bohemian districts


The Cathedral Square

This was not Rene’s first visit here, so he knew so good restaurants around the Hotel so we had diner together that night, and a very large lunch on our last day. He’s from New York out on Long Island, so I have promised to call him when I get there next year.

Tuesday was a ride through the busy traffic to the dealer to get some new rubber on the Wombat. Initially they said I would have to leave the bike and come back the next day, but a sorry face and asking nicely got the tyres on and me safely back to the Hotel by three o'clock. $630 lighter in the wallet. So I should now be OK until I reach the USA.

San Martin to Santiago

We picked the bike up the next day all correct and ready to go. They had even washed it and blacked the tyres!! The cost was about the same as I would have paid in Oz so no complaints there, and I have another stamp in the book from another country to go with the one from Tehran.

Thursday night got interesting as a work colleague of Jorges was getting married at the weekend and we were invited to the bucks night dinner. Nothing out of control but a reasonable amount of vino was consumed and we didn’t get home until three in the morning!! Mind you we didn’t go out until ten thirty.

The last night in San Martin was another Asado at Jorge’s house. This time I insisted on paying for the meat as a thank you. All had a good time as you can see from the pictures.


Jorge´s son Julio


Jorge and Ingrid


Seasoning is important


A good evening

The next day I packed the Wombat and headed out of the town towards the mountains. The day started off very cloudy, but Jorge assured me that it would clear as I got higher. The climb on the Argentinean side is a steady on with gentle curves through a valley with the river flowing enough to allow rafting and other water sports in the summer, and a lot of evidence of skiing in the winter. The temperature starts to drop and as you reach the summit at around 2800m, any of the steeper climbs are noticed by the drop in power from the engine. Not that it affects it to any great degree, it just means that a drop in gear is required. As you pass the entry customs into Argentina (which you do not have to stop at) you come across the national park entrance for Acongagua, the highest peak in South America. This was the only place for a photo opportunity, and luckily the cloud had disappeared and the sun was out. Mind you I didn’t hang around too long as the temperature was low enough to make me wish I’d kept the fleece handy for underneath the jacket.








Acongagua the highest mountain in South America

Next stop was the customs post for Chile, where the exit from Argentina, and the entrance to Chile, are all in the one place. As probably the major border crossing it’s a bun fight with coaches galore, and a lot of cars. Coach drivers trying to get their passengers through as quickly as possible try to tell you which que you need to be in, not knowing what the customs officers have already told you, so in the end I lost it with one of them who kept telling me I was in the wrong que. I asked him if he was a customs officer and when he replied no, I told him to mind his own business and leave me alone! One hour later with the quarantine inspection done I was on my way again. The decent from the summit is a very different affair. A series of hairpin bends take you down very quickly and if I hadn’t stopped to take so many photos it could have been a very hairy ride on the bike.



Santiago is only another 160km after that and a nice easy run in on the motorway puts you in the middle of the city and my hotel.

San Martin

The second day I was in San Rafael I went for a ride to find one of the spots they use for the water sports activities here, rafting and canoeing, but I got lost and didn’t make it. On the way back into town I pulled up alongside a couple of guys on a BMW 1150GS Jorge Chaves and Alejandro Spinello . We stopped for a chat (as much as possible with my limited Spanish) and they invited me to go along with them and a couple of others that were going out for a ride to a canyon that afternoon.


The ride through the Gorge was spectacular


Alejandro liked the Wombat


And he had one or two bikes that I liked!

The ride was spectacular (even though we got wet on the way back, but we called in to say hello to some friends of Alejandro, who invited us to stay for dinner. I got back to the hotel at three in the morning!! But had a very nice evening.

Jorge invited me to come and stay with him in San Martin a small town just outside Mendoza until I could get the bike serviced so I’m experiencing some real Argentinean family life with Jorge, his wife Ingrid and their son Julio. I don’t want to outstay my welcome, but there have been hints that there will be an Asado (BBQ) at the weekend.


Jorge (on the right) with his friend Adriano (who makes some award winning Grappa)


One of the water irrigation channels that feed San Martin


Who needs tread on tyres?? Formula one don't have it.

The bike is with the BMW agent in Mendoza for a 50,000km service. I asked about tyres but they don’t have the Metzler Tourance and the Michelins they offered are quite expensive (maybe because they were made in Spain not Brazil, so I have decided to wait and see what I can get in Santiago in Chile, where they don’t have the import restrictions or high taxes that Argentina does. The back tyre isn’t worn out yet, and the front will last for a little while.


The BMW agent in Mendoza


All ready for the Dakar? This one was used by a local driver last year

Even the ride out of Bariloche is spectacular as you travel around the end of the lake then climb up into the mountains and get a panoramic view across the lake to the town. The route up to Zapala takes you through winding valleys and follows the rivers that have cut through this volcanic area. Condors float above you riding the thermals effortlessly.



Zapala is another small town in the middle of nowhere but it seems to have a civic pride that some of the larger towns lack. The Hotel with the casino seemed to be the nicest with secure parking. It seems that throughout Argentina a three star hotel will set you back about $40 t0 $50 and the older I get the more I like my comfort. I’ll put up with quite a bit of shit during the day, but it’s nice to have somewhere comfortable and clean to stay at night.

The next day was a big one. A 530km ride up to Malargue with nowhere but a fuel stop in-between. Unfortunately they were delivering fuel when I got there and for the next hour nothing gets served. No choice but to wait patiently until they decide that it’s OK to pump gas again.



Just when you think you’ve got it licked, Routa 40 throws it’s last little bit of a challenge at you. The last 100km is ripio, and some rough stuff at that. Corregations that rattle your eyeballs, and for the first time what we in Australia call bull dust in Africa it’s called “fesh, fesh” its basically very fine dust that is like talcum powder. At one point there was no way round it, but the hole that I hit must have been eight inches deep. The resulting dust cloud from the front wheel covered everything from the knees down in this fine powder. I rolled into Malarque looking like I’d done a hard day on the Dakar!! The hotel gave me a broom to try to get the worst of it off before I went to my room.



I’m now in San Rafael an easy ride through the last of the scrubland and valleys until you come over a crest and are confronted with a lush green valley filled with vineyards. Lots of vineyards, I’m into the main wine producing area of Argentina. The tree lined avenues and streets are well thought out, with a irrigation system to water the trees. Just keep an eye on where you are walking or you can end up in a four-foot channel full of water!!

Next stop is another short hop up to Mendoza, the capital of the area. Time to get the wombat serviced, and some fresh rubber. The front has taken a beating from the sharp rocks on the ripio, and the back while not worn out, best be changed now, then it should last me through until I hit the Dalton Highway in Alaska. the Dempster Highway in Canada.

The next days ride was the sort you dream of, long sweeping bend one after the other. Climbing up through valleys into the mountains with scenery that just gets better all the time, and the sun shining. These days take me back to the first time on a bike when I was sixteen, and it’s why I still ride motorcycles.



I made contact with Jorge and Claudia Alegre whom I had met earlier over on the east coast. They live in San Carlos de Bariloche and had said that if I needed a hand to find some good, cheap accommodation then to let them know. They found me this very nice little self-contained cabana a short ride out of town but with a supermarket and restaurants close by if I needed them. I waked into the town the next day and there was a parade of the local Gauchos through one of the main streets.





This place has some of the largest shops selling chocolate that I have ever seen. Chocoholics strike this place off your list!! The hot chocolate is just like drinking it pure.



The next day I took a ride out along the lake, Lago Nahuel Huapi, and a ride up the chair lift to the top of Cerro Campanario (Bell Tower Hill) where you get three hundred and sixty degree views of the surrounding countryside.



I continued at a very slow pace around what they call the circuit chica, no point in rushing when the views are this good.



I’ve got one more day here, posting this blog some more Emails and some route planning. I’ve got to try to make up my mind if I cross into Chile as planned in Mendoza or carry on further north and stay in Argentina.

Routa 40

I think It’s something like 80km of asphalt as you leave El Calafate, then the road runs out and the ripio begins. It then goes on and on and on, slowly making it’s dusty way north. There is one fuel stop at Tres Lagos, and then not another for the next 370 km at Bajo Caracoles. I filled the spare can up and tied it securely to the right hand rear footrest and set off with a certain amount of trepidation as to what was coming that day. I was lucky in that the sun was shining and there was not a lot of wind. It was bad enough doing that road in the dry, if it had been wet and windy it would have rapidly become a nightmare!! I had planned to stay in Bajo Caracoles, as there was a hotel marked on the GPS, but when I got there it was about 3.30 in the afternoon and I figured seening it was only another 120km to Perito Moreno there would be more choice and more life!! And I could again have two nights there and have a chance to rest up.

Having said all this the scenery as you ride Routa 40 is lovely. It isn’t as flat and desolate as the Patagonian roads on the east coast, and the rolling hills and the constant presence of the Andean mountains to your west, always provide the promise of what’s to come.



Two nights in the nice little Hotel Americano was enough to allow the antibiotics to work their magic and allow me to carry on without someone standing on my chest. The bike also had another good clean, and check over from top to bottom. I’ve made it my goal to have the cleanest travellers bike on the north south route. It may not give you the street cred, but it makes me feel good about my ride.



Even if it was only going to last 20km outside the town the next day before the ripio started again. It only lasted 120km, but it was some of the most difficult that I’ve ridden. The gravel was deeper, which kept the speed well down, and it took me nearly three hours to cover that distance. Luckily that was all it was that day, and although I had another 520km to cover it soon turned into rough tarmac at Rio Mayo, where the potholes were more than willing to swallow the front wheel of a drowsy rider, and then onto smoother two lane highway all the way up to Esquel.