My tales From America Del Sur

[rombo]

Shortly after the highest passage of the Andes i stood wet in the icy river , holding my motorcycle with all my strength to avoid it drifting with the current. Helplessly tried to scream for help but to no avail . "Where the robbers when they are needed ," I thought and prepared for the worst.



So begins my journey in South America. With a special love for motorcycles and a dream that been cooked for four and a half years in the army .I Bought a motorcycle in Lima, Peru, and began to climb the Andes Mountains . I wanted to do a different trip . . Reach places as far away as possible to think about.With an advise of some climbers I met on the way I went to cross one of the highest mountain pass in the Andes ,The Punta Olimpico , at an altitude of 4690 meters .


i arrived the capital of Peru treks Huaraz and stayed there for a day of preparation and study traffic route in the mountains until i was ready to head off.

Several days of travel poor roads winding them up the mountain of heights I have not seen before. Stunning views of snow-capped mountains , lagoons changing colors and the air,Oh the air ... for the night I was looking for a place to set up the tent. I met a local who said that there are robbers on the roads so i started looking for a place hidden from the road.



The sun was setting between the mountains and i didn't have much time of daylight . for several houres i did not see any person or village. I decided to get off the road and sleep on the other side of the river [ assuming that's where the robbers will not come ] a few seconds of deliberation " just a little stream ," I said to myself , I released the clutch and went into the river.


Incorrect assessment of the depth of the river , the construction of a lack of concentration, the front wheel hits a big rock and I'm falling with the motorcycle into the water ( the same water that a few hours seen as snow in the mountains ) I stood in a frozen stream Holding my motorcycle with all my strength to avoid drifting with the current, I was helpless and I tried to scream for help " where the robbers need them " I thought. The thin air at that altitude made it *even more difficult for me .



After a few seconds I pulled myself together and managed to lift the motorcycle that with all his gear weighed close to 280 kg. now the Bike is not starteing . the next thirty minutes I pushed the bike idle the remaining seven meters of the river , but at least I got the place I wanted. Hidden from the road and across the creek .


I spent the night with a knife open in my hand and waited. Every noise outside the tent made ​​me tense and be ready for those who come rob me. More than once I woke up from the cold and the fear that I was on the verge of hypothermia , I left the gas stove on and I got up to do pushups to warm up a bit. Most of my thoughts that night were on the fact that i have to cross the bloody river back in the morning.



That night I started writing the first words of this diary . I decided to continue north to the mountains. Despite the danger and loneliness was something fascinated from the strength of nature. it made ​​me Stay




If you find it interesting wait until you hear the story from the Rally race in Colombia



Or how i crossed the Dorian Gap [for free]


Or the day i had to play the mandolin for my life in front of 70 angry protesters and Cauca vally


and Why the hell my bike is in a Herqulis air craft of the Colombians Air Force??




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motorcycle diaries