So not long ago, we were in Lima and had 2 days of down time. Then we rode 2 days to get to Cusco where we also did not go riding for 3 days. It was high time we got on the road and got some riding days under our belt to keep up with the schedule. Leaving Cusco was another drizzly morning with a lot of clouds. The high plains are great to ride through. The scenery is interesting, with small towns here and there and a lot of small scale agriculture.

One observation here in South America is that there are plenty of people who are doing trips similar to ours. Many of them have also thought ahead and made personalized stickers for their trips. I had run out of time before leaving for the trip and had never gotten around to getting stickers made, but what we did have for was to get a stack of Alpine Meadows stickers. Sometimes we even remember to use them! Here is an Alpine Meadows tag at a gas station in Peru near Lake Titicaca:


That day left us next to Lake Titicaca south of the town of Puno in a small farming community. While taking a short walk around the area, dark clouds were starting to gather.


That evening was one of the more intense lightening and thunder storms I have experienced in a long time! The thunder is so much more intense at an elevation of 13,000 feet!

The following morning, the heavy rain from the night before had tapered off into a slight drizzle. Attempting to get good photos of Lake Titicaca is very difficult when it is so damp and grey!


Eventually we reached the Peru/Bolivia border, looking forward to feeling the accomplishment that comes with crossing a border successfully with no problems:


As it turned out, we saved a lot of time by having spent an extra day in Cusco getting our Bolivian visa! However, when we stepped into the Aduana office to import our bikes, it was 10 minutes before they took lunch and they made us wait an hour before he would process our paperwork. The interesting thing was, it was the first customs person that attempted to speak English with us since the Mexican border. As you can imagine, it was a bit difficult to understand him. This sign on the door to the office is a good example:


As we waited for all the folks in the custom office to have lunch, the weather began to clear up. Not long after lunch we were on the road with sunny skies and nice roads for a short ride to Copacabana. This is a nice tourist town on Lake Titicaca. We stopped here to have some tea and make a plan. The day was turning into a good day for weather!


After a cup of tea, the decision was made to push on and get to La Paz that evening. The sun was shining for the first time in a while and it felt great to be riding in nice weather again!


A little farther down the road and another nice view of the lake in the distance:


At one point we had to cross on a very unstable looking ferry. We reluctantly got on and had to really hold on to the bikes to keep them from tipping. These big wooden crates ferry tour buses across as well!


As we raced south towards La Paz, we noticed the skies beginning to darken again:


And before long, it was raining again. 25 miles outside of La Paz, we stopped at a what looked like a river across the main highway. Cars were lining up on either side, so the flash flood must have just started not long before we had gotten there. It looked about a foot to a foot and a half deep judging by the cars going through. Let’s do it! Kalil went first so I could grab a quick photo:


“My bike stalled, and it won’t start” Oh no! I raced through the water to the other side, parked my bike and ran into the water which was just high enough to go into my boots to push him out to the other side and out of the way of traffic. The bike wouldn’t turn over. Is the battery dead? A quick attempt at a push start and my worst fear was realized: he had sucked water into his motor! But how!? It was only a foot to a foot in a half deep. That’s far below my air intake! As we began to dissemble his bike to get the spark plugs and air filter out, realization set in… His air intake is just above his piston, just barely above the foot and a half mark! So one of the vehicles heading in the opposite direction had pushed a wave right into the air box!

First things first, get the water out of the cylinders. Pull the spark plugs, turn the motor over. Water flies out of one cylinder. Check. It’s starting to get dark out, glad I had my Solite from Light and Motion handy to keep everything well lit!

Next step, make sure the spark plugs spark. Hook up the coils to the spark plug, ground it to the frame and crank the motor over, check. At this point, the battery seemed a bit low on power. Pull my bike over, run a couple wires to his battery and let my motor run for a bit while slowly charging his battery. Check. Put spark plugs back in, leave the wet air filter out, try to start the bike…. Nope. Nothing. Wait for awhile hoping things will dry out a bit more and she will fire…. Nope. Drag my computer out and plug it into the bikes computer, no fault codes. Allow the battery more time to charge: nothing again. Now it was fully dark and the traffic was thinning out. We’d better try and find a truck or something to get the bike to La Paz and tackle this situation in the morning after food and rest!

After a bit, Kalil was able to find him and his bike a ride to town. I followed along slowly, frustrated by having to drive at the pace of all these slow four wheeled vehicles that for the last 2 months I’ve been passing with impunity. 11:30 PM we arrived to El Alto, suburb of La Paz. It was dark, we were exhausted, tired, and very hungry. Luckily, a couple of the people who were in the truck with Kalil were staying at the same hotel (which as luck would have it had an underground parking garage as well!) and also needed to eat, so we shared a taxi to get food. The next 30 minutes in the center of El Alto at midnight were by far the sketchiest experience on this trip so far. But after a little street food, taxi back at the hotel, it was time to sleep and feel grateful that we were under a roof, dry, safe, and the motorcycles were parked in a safe spot for the night.

The following morning we went on a mission to find internet, breakfast, and some supplies. The spent most of the afternoon continuing to grasp at straws as to why the bike wouldn’t start. Kalil found a possible contact in La Paz who might be able to help us! Robin was originally from England but has been living in Bolivia for 9 years. He used to be a mechanic in England for the RAF (the British version of the AAA but far better) as well as a part owner in a motorcycle rental company here in Bolivia. He offered to pick up the bike with his trailer and bring it to his little garage at his house where he had more tools and patience than what we had at our sketchy hotel.

So we had some time on our hands and felt like a little gander around town was in order. Since I am a bit partial to ski lifts, and La Paz just so happened to have a brand new public gondola that was only a few years old, we decided to check it out. What a great way to experience a city! Above all the traffic and being able to see the big picture, including roof art:



What an impressive lift! Included were some spectacular views in the distance:


That night, we changed hotels and got Kalil’s bike to Robin’s house. Time for bed and an early start in the morning to do some more wrenching. The following morning, we anxiously tore the bike down hoping that we had missed something simple. After several more tests, the worst fears were realized. When the bike had taken in water, it had caused the connection rod between the crankshaft and the piston to bend slightly. This is because when an engine is working, it compresses the air and then it fires and an explosion happens. When it takes in water, water will not compress which causes the motor to suddenly stop, or in this case, the motor stopped so quickly that it bent the rods.

To sum up the situation, the motor was now not able to compress enough air in the cylinder to cause an explosion anymore. This problem is repairable. However, it would take a lot of money to get parts to Bolivia, it would require a full engine rebuild, and about a week at least of work once the parts showed up.

This leaves us with only a couple options. So Kalil and I went into town that evening to figure out what to do. We both agreed that I should keep going since there was not much I could do to help at this point other than fall behind my already tight schedule. His options were to, a) attempt to sell the bike in La Paz b) try and figure out a way to ship the bike back to the US and then? Rebuild it? Sell it for parts? Part it out? This discussion needed a !


JUDAS! Yes, Judas. What a perfect name for his bike! It had come so far and accomplished so much, just to betray the trip on it’s final stretch!

The next morning, breakfast was a somber affair as we tried to ignore the inevitable. Saying goodbye was not easy, and riding off alone not knowing what the outcome was going to be with his bike was even more difficult. So many unknowns, but at least there was direction. First thing he had to do was to figure out what to do with the bike. So Kalil was headed to the market after I left to see if he could find anyone in the bike district who might be interested in his bike.

The whole day, I was distracted from my ride thinking about whether or not I had done the right thing leaving down with so many questions unanswered. That night as I pulled into Uyuni and logged on to some wifi, this picture was in my inbox:


Kalil had a successful day! He had found someone to buy his bike for parts! This meant that within one day, his fortune had changed from totally lost with a heavy anchor tied to his freedom in the form of an out of commission motorcycle; to having extra money in his pocket and free to go in whichever way the wind takes him.

So to all of you following along, this changes things. No longer will I be providing first hand information about the adventures of Kalil and Hans. I will only be providing information about my own adventures. That being said, I will stay in touch with Kalil and at the end of each post I will make sure that everyone is updated on what he is up to!

Until next time…

February 28th, 2016, I’ve now been on the road for 75 days with Kalil and this was the morning I had to say goodbye and continue heading south on my own. It was raining in La Paz as I left and the weather was cold. It seemed that the weather was matching my mood, traveling alone changes a lot of aspects of how you travel. You cannot take the same chances, you don’t have someone to watch the bikes as another person goes off and tries to find information/hotel/food/ etc… After a few hours of troubled thoughts I began to notice the weather was changing and before I knew it, it was sunny and with interesting landscapes, including flamingos:



After a few hours on the road, and about halfway to my destination of Uyuni, I noticed a Kawasaki KLR next to a hole in the wall restaurant and it had a Canadian license plate. Needing a drink of water, I stopped to see who this fellow traveler could be. Turns out Jota was from Chile, but had been working in Canada for awhile and had decided it was time to go back home to Santiago, Chile. However, airplanes were boring, so on a whim, bought a motorcycle and went to Alaska, across Canada to New York City, back out to California and then headed south. He had been on the road for 6 months and was heading the same direction as I was. 30 minutes later there were two motorcycles riding in tandem south again.

When we arrived at the Salar de Uyuni, Jota wanted to ride out on the salt flats. The salt flats in Uyuni are the biggest in the world, 3 times bigger than Bonneville salt flats in Utah. One problem, they were flooded! It is rainy season, and the flats were covered in a couple inches of water. After watching countless jeeps entering and exiting the flats, we decided to go for it! And boy was it worth it! What an unreal experience:


The 2-3 inch deep water with a base of salt (pure white) was a perfect mirror of the sky. The experience was absolutely surreal! Before long, we noticed in the distance (which is very hard to judge) a group of jeeps and people. So we veered in that direction and 2 miles later we arrived at a raised area that was sporting a large salt monument to the Dakar rally that goes right through this area:


After leaving the salt flats, the most important thing to do is IMMEDIATELY GET THE SALT OFF OF EVERYTHING! Why did I do that again?


After a very thorough washing (no joke, 20-30 minutes of spraying and making sure EVERY nook and cranny was clear of salt) both Jota and I were quite pleased with how the day turned out and went into the town of Uyuni and found ourselves a nice little hostel. The next morning we both decided it was necessary to spend a day catching up on our lives, blogs, going online and paying the Argentina visa fee and printing it out, and laundry. Also a trip out to the Bolivian train graveyard just outside of town was necessary.


Train set or swing set? Well, why not both?


The following day it was time to make tracks to Argentina! The road that headed south out of Uyuni looked like a main highway on the GPS but it was much different when we were riding in person. The road was undergoing major construction to make it a major highway, which meant the detours weren’t exactly perfect road bed. Several sandy and muddy sections later, we had gotten good at picking up Jota’s loaded up KLR. I felt like I was bad luck! Jota had only dropped his bike 3 times up until this road. And in one day, he more than doubled his total falls after falling 4 times. That being said, the first time wasn’t his fault. While pushing his bike out of the mud, a random road worker was pushing on the side of the bike effectively pushing it over.

After all the trials and tribulations of this road, we were rewarded with some stunning landscape:


For 60-70 miles we didn’t pass any towns and passed very few people other than the many different areas of road construction crews that really didn’t seem like they were in a hurry. At one point the road took us into a canyon and we were riding through a small river/stream:


After that low, the road took us up until we were high up on a ridge, with stunning 360 degree views, including some red hills in the background conveniently lit up by the sun:


As we neared the main paved road that would take us to the border of Argentina, we got one more great photo opportunity that reminded me a lot of Utah:


After a very typical Argentina meal of a giant plate of BBQ meat, we raced to the border of Argentina. We arrived at 6pm Bolivia time and decided to attempt the crossing. Before long we were joined by our Mexican and Bolivian motorcycle friends that we had seen at the Colombia/Ecuador border as well as just outside Trujillo! 4 hours later, including an hour and a half long excursion into the town on the Argentina side trying to buy insurance, and losing an hour to time change, putting all our things through an xray machine that was inside of a van, we were packing up our bikes to go into town to find a hotel:


The following morning, Jota and I decided that we would continue traveling together until we reached Mendoza. Our destination for the day was Salta. Along the way we stopped at Quebrada de Humahuaca, a very colorful range of hills:

Yet again, my pictures don’t do it justice, feel free to google it! It’s quite amazing! So after several hours of desert sun and slowly dropping in elevation, we eventually reached more rain! The last 40 miles to Salta was very damp, but the mood was quite positive since we were both enjoying the road, which was about one lane wide and winding through the hills:


We reached Salta, exhausted, soaked and ready for a hot shower. After a good nights rest, the following day we headed out of Salta, which was still in the clouds. The first hour after leaving Salta reminded me a lot of Vermont. Large fields of corn, grass, pasture and green mountains in the background. As we got further away and the climate was slightly drier, there were countless acres of vineyards growing grapes for some delicious Argentine wine. Then there was a drastic change in scenery as we entered a canyon that seemed to pop up out of nowhere:


At the bottom of the canyon was the town of Cafayate, which is a very beautiful little town well known for it’s wineries and mild climate. That night we ate traditional Argentine BBQ with the guests of the hostel along with friends of the hostel owner listening to a couple die hard football (soccer) fans talking trash about the upcoming big match between rival Argentina teams. Relaxing times before we both got ready for our last big push to the south of South America!

Kalil UPDATE:

Kalil spent the week in La Paz where he was taking private Spanish lessons. He was not alone, only a day or two behind us were the Australian couple (bikesns) and the San Fran couple (Chris and Zoe) who spent some time hanging out with. Tragedy had also struck Chris and Zoe when one of their KTM 690’s experienced valve trouble. I do not have the full details of the situation, but they were in the process of waiting for parts when Zoe had to unexpectedly return to the USA. Kalil has not been keeping me up to date with any pictures or much information, but I think they are trying to figure out a way for him to continue on the newly repaired KTM 690 with Chris while Zoe takes care of important matters back in the states.

Ruta 40 is a famous road not only in Argentina, but in the world. For example, the BMW dealership in Colombia (several thousand miles north of Argentina) is named Ruta 40 in honor of this road. It is one of the longest roads in the world at a mind numbing total of over 5000 kms (3,107 miles)! We had hopped on the Ruta 40 at Cafayate. We had 2 days to spend traveling this road before reaching Mendoza.

There isn’t much to talk about when driving the Ruta 40 in most places. It’s very flat, very straight, and basically you are driving through a desert. And then it will surprise you with some very drastic scenery changes and some good bits of riding. The above and below picture are at such a place. This pavement is only a year or so old. In some areas you can see parts of the old road which hug the sides of these hills as a single lane dirt road.


That evening we found ourselves looking for a place to stay in a tiny little town called Guandacol. Stumbling upon a small spot that claimed to be a hostel, we pulled in to find… nothing. A few buildings but no one around. After walking around the area for several minutes, suddenly an older gentleman came walking up to us. After talking with Jota for a good half an hour, we were showed our room, a kitchen, and were given a promise that we would get to taste some of the wine that he was making (the property was a vineyard). Yet another interesting lesson of how sometimes things are not as they seem.

That night, it seemed to rain a little bit where we were. We had no idea that we were about to head south into what must have been quite the storm the night before! As we headed south along the long flat plains, we were noticing that the dips that they had built for water to cross the road were filled with lots of runoff. Pretty soon these dips were not only full of debris, but also a few inches of water still flowing across the road. The next town we got to, we started to realize just how major the storm had been:


Well, since motorcycles are perfectly capable of riding in the rain and none of the dips were deep enough to submerge anything important (such as air intakes!!!!) we continued on our way south. As the distance to Mendoza shrank, the amount of water flooding the plains seemed to grow:


It definitely added to the experience in a positive way since if there had not been all the flooding, the drive would have been extremely less memorable. That afternoon we arrived safely in Mendoza and settled in for one last dinner before Jota headed south in the morning and I stayed put in Mendoza for a few days.

The following morning, I met up with my friends Sebastian and Janelle from Sacramento, California. Sebastian is originally from Mendoza and was back in Mendoza for business. A nicely timed rendezvous! He was staying at his sisters house and he had 2 very important things for me: a place to work on my motorcycle and PARTS! That morning was spent working on changing the oil, fixing several tiny nagging issues I had, and replacing the steering head bearings (that was quite the challenge!!). For lunch, I was invited to go over to a close friend of Sebastian’s family for a traditional Argentinian BBQ:

That would be a bit difficult to turn down! I cannot thank my gracious hosts enough for making me feel at home when I had almost forgotten what that felt like:


The following morning I was invited to partake in some of the activities that Sebastian and his company had organized for their clients. First stop was a winery where I experienced my first wine tasting. Never have I ever thought in my life that I would be spitting out perfectly good wine out of my mouth! Oh the humanity! But after tasting several wines, I began to understand…

Following the wine tasting, the bus headed up the road towards the mountains and I followed on the motorcycle (another reason why it was important to spit out the wine… hehe). The group was headed to go rafting on the Mendoza river. My original plan was to split off from the group and ride up near to Aconcagua. Aconcagua is the tallest mountain in the world if you don’t count the Himalaya mountains at 6,961 meters (22,838ft) which was about an hour and a half further up the road. The plans changed as the weather remained extremely cloudy with some rain mixed in every once in a while for effect. So I went rafting instead:


I have never rafted before, so it was quite a good experience! The guy in the right of the picture ended up falling out of the boat in a short section of class 3 rapids. I was told the river isn’t that extreme and if I go again, I will definitely look for a more difficult stretch of river to float down!

After rafting and food, the group headed back to Mendoza to rest up before a big wine festival event (did I mention that there was a large wine festival going on in Mendoza while I was there?). Sebastian and I were left behind with a car and a motorcycle. Since I had spent the last three months on a motorcycle and Sebastian has been playing family man, I did what any good friend would do and told him I’d be insulted if he didn’t ride my bike back to town. Yup, he’s excited!


That evening was quite an experience! The wine festival in Mendoza is a grand event every year. The show is put on for four nights in order to accommodate all the people who want to go see it. Each year the actual show completely changes, but the theme is the same, which is to celebrate the history of wine in Argentina and to celebrate yet again another harvest season (it’s fall here). And what a production it was!



All said and told there must have been at least a couple hundred people involved in this well choreographed show! At one point, several people dressed as angels were hooked up to a crane and lifted off the stage and out of sight. Not exactly OSHA approved!


And to top it all off, Chef Boyardee was there!


He was quite a friendly and outgoing fellow! Apparently this show was a bit toned down from normal years. This is because the show is produced and funded by the government and Argentina is undergoing a lot of political change recently and the government is probably trying to cut spending. Either way, I was impressed!

The following morning was a bit tough to wake up on time. In Argentina they run on a different schedule than I am used to. Most businesses open in the morning until noon or 1, then they close down until 4 or 5 in the afternoon. Then, everything seems to stay open until the wee hours of the morning. So the past few nights, it had been about 2 am before I laid eyes on my pillow!

But wake up I did, since today was the day I was going to leave my wonderful hosts and head south. But first, I was invited to one more winery to experience and learn a bit (actually quite a lot) more about wine. It was a clear morning and on my ride to the winery, I couldn’t help but try and capture this view:


The backdrop of immense mountains void of clouds always seems to help clear the mind a little bit. At the winery, I had to remember to not drink any of this amazing wine in order to prevent the mind from becoming cloudy again!


After tasting 10 or so wines, it was time to take a tour of the winery. Here is several hundred bottles of some very tasty sparkling wine aging to perfection. Every several days they are slightly turned to help the fermentation process.


Then back to the tasting room to learn a lot more about wine and I must admit, after all the rhetoric, I believe that I have begun to understand why good wine is good. The tasting finished with the top vintages of the Atamisque winery, which I must admit were very tasty! When the tasting was all said and done, a quick pilgrimage to the atamisque bush that the winery was named after: Cheers!


Afterwards, it was time for a relaxing lunch, some golf with my new wine friends and after a few hours of clearing my head it was time for my final push south! Until next time….

Kalil Update:

Kalil is still in La Paz, but a plan has formed! Zoe and Chris, our friends from California (www.tiptotip690.wordpress.com) have a ride for him on one of their 690’s. Zoe had to return home while they awaited parts for one of their bikes in La Paz. Once the parts are there in La Paz and the bike is running, Kalil will be handed the keys to join Chris on their mission south.

After a few days of amazingly gracious hosts, wine, friends, and indulging in the finer things in life in Mendoza, I reluctantly had to continue south. A freshly serviced bike is always good for the soul. Having driven/operated many different vehicles, machinery, and motorcycles, it is a feeling I find hard to describe but for some reason after spending several hours checking everything over, changing oil, and general check up, the machine always seems.... happier? It probably is all in my head but my motorcycle was running smooth as silk.

So I began my trek south on Ruta 40. A few hours south of Mendoza, the paved road turned left to San Rafael, and Ruta 40 continued straight south and immediately became a dirt road. After about 5 miles, the road began to have small washout areas that were a little rough to cross at my ambitious speed of 40 mph, but I was willing to push on until a few miles further, a slightly larger dip contained a generous amount of sand that made my handlebars go very far left, then suddenly very far right and somehow luckily at the end of the sand trap, my bike was still going straight.

Gut check time! Alone, on a dirt road where the conditions were questionable since there has been so much rain in the area recently, I had a very important decision to make. Continue on Ruta 40 with questionable conditions for an unknown amount of time with no other rider to keep my speed at a reasonable pace, or turn back 10 miles, stick to the pavement which would go in a roundabout way south. 100+ more miles in total distance to get to where I wanted to go. The photo above is proof that I choose the safe route.

Several hours of no scenery, flat straight roads, and nothing for a couple hundred miles, I was quite surprised to see another motorcycle park next to mine at a gas station!



This fellow was an Argentinean heading to the same place I was that day, Neuquen. So even though he could not speak English, and my Spanish abilities that day were even more terrible than normal, we spoke the international language of riding a motorcycle. So off we went, riding together which made the long flat and increasingly windy drive far more interesting. I have noticed that my Spanish abilities ride on a roller coaster, some days I can get by quite well, other days I might as well be speaking gibberish! After arriving in Neuquen, the fellow on the other bike went to stay with his family there, and I went off to find a place to stay.

The following morning, as I was trying to find my way out of this rather large city in what seemed to be absolutely in the middle of nowhere, I found an advertisement for a band. I immediately had to pull over and take a picture:



Judging by the picture, the name, and the fact that they are from Argentina, the thought began to form that perhaps I should stick around for the show... But my motorcycle disagreed and before I knew it, the motor began spinning the sprockets and the front tire was again pointed southwest towards Chile and the Andes.

After an hour or so of pavement, the GPS wanted me to take a right onto a dirt road. Zoom out the GPS, sure enough, the dirt road will cut off 30 miles. Several miles down the road and the decision still seemed like a good idea:



After 15 miles of decent road, yet again, the GPS said take a left. There was a gate to the left and behind the gate, a plowed up strip of earth heading west. Staying on the road would take me north before connecting to another road to take me west. Turning around would admit that I had made an error and I would have to backtrack 15 miles. Gosh I hate being stubborn! So I opened the gate, went through, closed the gate behind me and moved on to see what the hell my GPS was talking about. Sure enough, big sign roughly translated was telling me the road was... being created still? 5 miles of a decent double track next to plowed up surface representing what will become a nice two lane road... someday? and I began to worry. My GPS was telling me the next turn was in 25 more miles! Suddenly the double track lane merged onto the loose dirt... DAMN! Slowing down to 1st gear, my stubbornness began to be tested.

45 more minutes and I had covered 10 more miles. The whole time reminding myself that I was completely alone for miles. Do NOT take chances, relax, don't try and speed my way over obstacles. Time to take a break:



Hold on, in the distance, on the valley floor there was a barely noticeable black strip... Could it be!?!?! But the GPS said 15 more miles but on a closer look, sure enough, the GPS didn't consider merging onto the pavement as a turn!! Hurrah! As much as my stubbornness does NOT need any positive reinforcement, it got a large boost. A long loose descent to the valley floor, 100 meters of deep sand (grab a large handful of throttle, lean back and let the bike float!) and there it was! Pure, beautiful, flat, smooth wonderful pavement!

An hour later I found myself back in my happy place, surrounded by mountains in the nice quiet touristy town of San Martin de los Andes. Pulling out a couple slices of bread, I packed up the last of the ham and cheese I had stashed away which was left over from my simple dinner the night before and take a few minutes to let the view soak in:



Half an hour later I was thoroughly enjoying twisty paved roads in the mountains! This is DEFINITELY what the doctor ordered!



That evening the motorcycle was parked at a hostel on the outskirts of San Carlos de Bariloche, a very well known resort town which essentially could be considered a ski town since a popular large ski area is located a half hour away. That evening I found myself cooking my own steak at the hostel and realizing that perhaps this was a great spot to take a day off and recuperate some motivation.

The following day while touring the area, I had a sudden feeling like I had just been transported to the Alps:



A couple miles down the road and there was another picturesque landscape that needed to be saved digitally on my camera:



After 2 long days through flat and barren landscapes and suddenly I was transported to vacationland! Vacationland included some delicious chocolate shoppes boasting some very large chocolate Easter eggs:



A few s along with some fantastic local chocolate and it was time to head back to the supermarket near the hostel for another delicious Argentina steak. But not before trying to capture (rather unsuccessfully) the sunset colors over the lake:



The following day, the motor started up like it usually does. "Funny" I thought to myself. Shouldn't my bike be as excited as I was? Today would be the day that I will finally reach the last country that I will visit on my trip, Chile! But then again, why put the horse before the cart? There was still a few more hours to enjoy Argentina!



When my GPS told me to turn right onto a dirt road towards the border of Chile, it also told me that I was still 30 miles from the border. The road was covered in very loose gravel and it takes some extra concentration to prepare for corners and traffic as the bike seems to just drift all over the road. So when I decided it was time to take a quick break to regain some nerve, confidence and stretch my legs, luck was on my side as 20 meters off the road this view appeared:



About 100 meters from the Argentina border control, I went over this bridge and couldn't resist getting a picture of the river:



Welcome to Chile! And look! Asphalt!



Turn around and say goodbye to Argentina and that loose gravel for a couple of days as I avoid a very long and boring ride on Ruta 40 and head into Chile to enjoy the Astral Highway in Chile.



That evening I found where I had been hiding my camping gear after finding a peaceful campsite next to the river in Futaleufu, Chile.



That's it for now! Stay tuned, there are a lot more miles of road left going south!

The celebration for having survived 89 days on the road on a motorcycle started with dismantling the tent and packing up all the camping gear for the first time in a couple months. Sleeping next to a quietly murmuring river resulted in a good nights rest and a positive attitude. Once on the road, progress was slow due to loose gravel road conditions meandering through the hills and mountains of the Lake Region as I made my way to the Austral Highway. There were 50 miles of slow gravel roads separating me from the highway. Progress was further slowed by all the amazing scenery around every corner.



This was one of the only roads around for many miles and the sparsely populated countryside survived on tourism and what seemed like small ranches. At this point in the year, it is the middle of fall and you could see the landscape slowly changing as it prepared for winter, overshadowed by glaciers in the mountain tops.



Once on the Carretera Austral, the road was a bit more established, with long sections of paved road which wound around many small lakes and hillsides. After about 30 miles or so of fun twisty paved roads, it would turn back to dirt as you could see signs of construction as Chile tried to tame these wild mountainous areas with established high speed roads. So other than the one necessary fuel stop, there was no actual human interaction other than waving to the few other motorists on the road. Which was fine because to stop and enjoy these views without any disturbances was very peaceful.



I stopped for "lunch" at a particularly nice lake with some great views. It is just too difficult to capture the serenity of this road. If anyone ever plans on doing a road trip in and around Patagonia, I would highly recommend finding the time to check out the Austral highway. Simply stunning!



As I continued south, I began to notice a lot more glaciers up in the mountain tops.



After gaining some elevation, there were a few great lookout spots to get a good glimpse of the valleys I had just ridden through.



After a what seemed like a long day of many peaceful mountain settings and stunning views, I found myself in the town of Coyhaique, 260 miles down the road from where I had started.

The following morning I made my way towards the border of Argentina, only 2 days in Chile and I was already leaving. After signing in at the Aduana (customs) I pointed the bike east towards Ruta 40, which was 60 miles away. I was greeted by this view of... not much:



Several miles into this long straight gravel road, I went through a tiny little frontier town and found this neat old horse drawn wagon:



These must have been the main mode of transporting goods before the proliferation of the modern dinosaur burning vehicles. Having seen many old pictures in various places on this trip, I deduced that these were the South American equivalent of the wagon trains that settled the west in North America. The next thought I had was, maybe my tires need to be bigger in order to conquer these rough gravel roads!

After gaining confidence, the speed slowly climbed on the long straight gravel road and before I knew it, I had put 60 miles between me and the border of Chile. Back on Ruta 40, I was happy to be cruising on pavement again and heading south. Well, until boredom set in.



Long, straight, flat, and I began to notice a little bit of wind pushing me around on the bike. All along the road, there were hundreds of Vicuna scattered everywhere. They are the South American equivalent of deer, running around in the wild, and seem to congregate along roadsides. The vicuna are essentially a very close cousin to the llama and alpaca and they have never been domesticated. There were so many of them, it wasn't worth taking a picture. And for they seemed to be quite smart as well because there were very few dead ones on the side of the road, so even though they were all grazing a few feet from the road, they never strayed into oncoming traffic.

The first times I saw the rhea, it was pretty amazing! These flightless large birds which are related to emus and ostriches blend right into the landscape and as you drive by them they jump and run, so it was a bit tricky to get a good shot of one closeup.



That evening found me settled in a hotel room in Perito Moreno. There is absolutely nothing significant about this town other than it is the last town with fuel or ATM's for a long long distance. Luckily the gas pumps seemed to work fine, but the ATM's on the other hand were not working for my foreign card... Shoot, hundreds of miles from the nearest decent sized town that would have an ATM that would work with a foreign card. Stranded in no mans land, completely out of Argentina Pesos, a pocket full of Chilean Peso's and a secret stash of US dollars. Luckily the hotel owner was up to make a little profit and exchanged the $40 USD into pesos which would have to get me to the next big town tomorrow!

The next day I made a discovery: that getting down to the southern tip of Argentina had one major challenge that in all my research I had not come across. That challenge was how to keep yourself entertained for what seemed like the most boring drive of my life! This puts all the long straight boring drives in Kansas, Nevada, and even Nebraska to shame:



And to add to the boredom, I began to encounter wind. It didn't seem so bad at first. Lean a bit to the right and you keep going straight. Set the throttle to 65 and you're fine. It was about 216 miles to get to the next fuel stop. 4.2 gallons in the tank, so I needed to average over 52 mpg. That shouldn't be a problem, should it? After a couple hours, I began to notice my average was slowly going down as I had to lean a little more to the right to combat the wind. Slow down a bit more. Lean a little more as the wind got stronger, slow down a little to keep the mpg. As my speed dwindled to just below 55, I was graced by a large tractor trailer truck passing me by. I quickly grabbed the throttle and tucked in behind him! 65 mph and my mpg jumped through the roof to a whopping 65+mpg! Hurray for drafting!



On a side note, I did have 2 extra gallons of fuel on board in the red fuel can. My stubborn side told me that to use that would be to admit that I hadn't done my planning right, so even if I had run out, I would have been totally fine. I also could have hammered down on the throttle and flown through the boring sections at 75 mph!

After following this truck for about 80 miles, the next fuel stop was in sight! Along with a long line of cars...



160 miles to go to the next town and back up into the mountains, so I didn't wait around long before pushing on in the wind. Unfortunately without a nice big truck as a wind block. Everything seemed to be rolling along fine until I came across a 45 mile section of Ruta 40 that was still waiting to be paved. No problems here, I had accomplished 60 miles of these gravel roads yesterday! Um...



It is no problem staying in that skinny wheel track, until you factor in the stiff cross wind! The stones were a couple inches deep on each side and if a gust hit you just right, it would send you into the loose rock and the bike would start to float around. The only solution is: when in doubt, throttle out! DO NOT hit the brakes! As you accelerate, it reduces the weight on the front tire and you can then manage enough control to get the bike back in the lane. Don't accelerate, or even worse, hit the brake, and the front end will plow through those loose stones making the bike feel like its floating and it goes all over the place uncontrollably. Good times!

After successfully making it through the rugged dirt roads covered in "rippio", I turned right off of Ruta 40 towards the mountains and a small town located on the edge of Glaciers National Park called El Chalten, home of Monte Fitzroy. As I neared the town, relief set in after a 400 miles of wind, straight roads, and rugged gravel roads with crosswinds! I was looking forward to getting out of the plains and the wind and getting back to the mountains!

So for all of you who have been waiting for information on Kalil, here it is!

I last left Kalil in La Paz, Bolivia after we discovered that the motor on his motorcycle had bent the connection rods and would not run without a lot of time, money, and parts. With time slowly slipping away, we both decided that I would continue on by myself and he would stay in La Paz to take care of his now dead motorcycle and make a plan for the rest of his adventure.

Kalil was able to sell his non-running motorcycle in no time at all, which was a very big relief. With the funds from the sale of his parts bike, he decided to sign up for a week of private Spanish lessons in La Paz. During that week, some of the fellow motorcycle adventurers we had met along the way passed through La Paz. Including the couple Chris and Zoe. They were having trouble with one of their KTM 690's and needed to take a break in La Paz as well. During their stay there, Zoe had to fly back to the USA for a family emergency. It was at this point that they (Zoe, Chris, and Kalil) all sat down together and decided to make a deal which would allow Kalil to continue riding south on Zoe's bike after she left for the states.

After a week of waiting for parts, Chris and Kalil were ready to ride! They headed south from La Paz, to the Salar de Uyuni. From there they headed west along what is known as the Laguna route towards San Pedro de Atacama in Chile.


Kalil managed to snap a few good pictures on this leg of their journey.



From there, Chris and Kalil headed south a little bit and then east towards Salta, Argentina. This route would somewhat follow the route of the Dakar race. Once in Salta, they set their sites south and west towards Mendoza. There they enjoyed some wine, met some locals who took them out on some off the beaten path dirt bike trails. After a few days of enjoying Men

Another great update. Great to hear your riding buddy has continued on! Hope you guys can meet up down the trail somewhere for a reunion.

Love the pic with those pesky Llamas!

Ride safe, rubber side down!

G,day guys, great to catch up on your updates, love the photo,s . Seems your enjoying yourself, BMW don,t like to swim, I,m surprised, when in Thailand, 2011 my KLR was able to swim without a problem. keep the photo,s coming, stay safe, cheers, Roger.

On the 16th of March, the 92nd day of the journey, I got to see two of the most popular places to see in Patagonia; Mount Fitzroy and Perito Moreno Glacier. That morning I woke up in El Chalten and went on a brisk early morning walk outside of town. For some reason, I felt like using my timer feature on my camera and get some proper proof that I have actually been to these places! Above is a photo overlooking the river valley leading into El Chalten.

After about an hour of hiking I found a great view of Fitzroy:



Another hour and I found a lake which still had a great view of Fitzroy and decided to test the timer on the camera again:



It's official! I made it down to Glacier National Park in Argentina and I have a picture to prove it. I'm sure there are millions of pictures of this spot, but only one has me in it... Might as well try to do the similar picture without me in it.



After about 4 hours of hiking, it was time to hit the road again and continue to El Calafate. El Calafate is the main hub of Glacier National Park and also an hour away of visiting Perito Moreno Glacier. As I left El Chalten, I had to take a quick photo of the amazing skyline in the distance before I headed back out in the plains fighting high winds and boring straight roads.



After arriving in El Calafate with plenty of time to spare, the decision to get to the glacier for a look was easy to make. Perito Moreno Glacier is 97 square miles of ice and is part of the Southern Patagonia ice field. This ice field is the 3rd largest reserve of fresh water. The last interesting fact I'll add is that the Perito Moreno glacier is GROWING! Yup, you read that right, one of only 3 glaciers growing in the ice field, and certainly one of the few glaciers still growing in the world.



The size of the glacier is unbelievable... The photo above was taken from about a half mile from the glacier. The glacier actually comes down into the lake and meets the hill on the other side of the water. When that happens, the water one side of the glacier builds up over time because it doesn't have an outlet. Eventually, it builds up enough to create a river underneath the ice. Every 4 years or so, the ice bridge will weaken enough and collapse down into the water below. Unfortunately for me, the bridge had just collapsed a few days before I got there so I didn't get to see the ice bridge, only the rubble left behind by its destruction.



Since the theme for the day was to use the timer on my camera, I took the time to try one more self portrait on my way back to the motorcycle.



On my way back to town there was one last photo opportunity to take advantage of to cap off an amazingly scenic day!

After all the excitement of El Chalten and El Calafate, it was time to head down the road to Puerto Natales to see another natural wonder, Torres del Paine. *Today's route would take me south a few hundred miles and then west into Chile. *The first stretch south was very cold. *It was very chilly that morning, cold enough to have the heated vest plugged in, hand warmers on high, an extra layer under the helmet to add some insulation for my ears and fresh dusting of snow in the hills in the distance.

After a fuel stop and some time spent warming up the hands, I finally took the time to stop and get the picture above of a sign I had seen several times but had been too busy leaning the bike over in order to keep going straight.

As I neared the Chile border later that day, the weather turned on me and it began to rain. I had thought I was cold early in the day, but now I was REALLY cold. After another uneventful and simple border crossing into Chile, it was only 15 minutes to get to Puerto Natales. A delicious pizza and a warm shower helped to boost the spirits.

The next morning, I met up with Jota again. Since our parting in Mendoza, he had ridden the Ruta 40 all the way south from Mendoza and from there the rest of the way to Ushuaia. He was on his way north back home to Santiago and it worked out that we would go camp out in Torres Del Paine for a night before parting ways again. On our way to the park, we stopped at the Milodon cave. This is a place where explorers found preserved animal skins dating back several hundred years that were similar to the shape of a bear.



As it turns out, this huge cave was the home to these very large bear-like animals called Milodon. There used to be many of these bears in existence a few thousand years ago, but as the glaciers receded and the whole landscape and animal populations around them changed, they started to die off. The last known evidence of there existence was more than 800 years or so. Pretty big bear!



After the cave, it was only about an hour or so to the Torres del Paine national park. With fresh snow in the hills and mountains around, it allowed for a couple decent photo stops.


As we neared the park, there were a flock of condors taking off in a field as we rode by. Unfortunately there was not enough time to stop and take a picture. It was the last animal on my list of animals to see! Shortly after the condor siting we got our first view of the Torres (which by the way is Spanish for towers, Torres del Paine is a group of giant rock towers circled by mountains). Very impressive from far away.



The clouds were a bit ominous and both Jota and I were hoping that later in the afternoon they might burn off for some clear shots.



After arriving to the park, we set up our tent and had some time so we decided to do a little hiking. After 2 hours of hiking up a seemingly deserted and off the beaten path trail, we had a pretty good view point of the Torres. Unfortunately, the clouds had not burnt off.



With our hopes of the clouds burning off began to diminish, we pushed on for awhile longer. Even with the clouds in the way, it was still very refreshing to get out and hike and get in some great scenery of the valley below.



The last 30 minutes of hiking up, the weather started to get a little more stormy and the hat and puffy jacket had to make an appearance. I could have sworn there were snowflakes!



Since it was impossible to get any pictures of the cloudy Torres, I gave up and took pictures of the valley below. The foothills of Patagonia are extremely flat, windy, and desolate!



Torres del Paine is a very famous national park and many tourists arrive every year. Somehow we managed to find a hiking trail that not many people know about. After spending about 4 and a half hours on the trail, the only people we saw was a group of 3 people who worked in the park. They were amazed that we had found the trail since it is only used for special guided tours for people looking to do serious hiking in the park. It was definitely not the easiest hiking trail I've been on:



That evening, Jota made some tasty omelet sandwiches. It was a very busy campsite, but we managed to find a hidden spot where we weren't bothered by any of the groups that were partying near by.



The next morning, after packing up our camp, Jota and I said our good byes and separated ways once again. He was heading back into Argentina to head north and I was headed to Punta Arenas which from my extensive research is one of the few places that would be 'easy' to sell my motorcycle legally. Punta Arenas is the southern most major city in Chile. A major hub for travelers headed south to Ushuaia and beyond to Antarctica and north to Patagonia. I would have 5 days to try and sell my bike before I would have to turn tail and run north to Santiago as quick as I could to catch my flight back to the USA. If I sold the bike, I would simply fly to Santiago from there. If I didn't sell my bike, I'd have to ride the 1800 miles to Santiago and arrange last minute shipping for the bike to home in less than a week...