Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

After 2 days of rest and reflection, the group is itchy to get moving again and I'm no exception. Up bright and early at 6am sorting through my packing trying to get everything back into the 2 pannier bags. I've noticed that every time we have a couple of days rest and I can sort out my washing that I struggle to get all my stuff repacked. Perhaps it's the addition of the nifty Globebusters Trans Am 2009 tee-shirt...

With the group's departure time set for 10am, I ate a leisurely breakfast but was still ready to roll just after 9am. I hate hanging around when there's riding to be done, and even knowing that our destination, the same hotel in Cerro Sombrero we stayed in just 5 nights ago, has absolutely nothing going for it, I hit the road just after 9.20am. The weather was overcast but slightly warmer than the day before, so wrapped up in all my cold-weather gear but without waterproofs I rode out of town on the same road we'd come in on. This time I was riding alone rather than in a big convoy, and quickly settled into a relaxed pace, enjoying the twisting road as it headed up into the mountains towards the Garibaldi Pass. It started to spit with rain and the cold air blowing through my jacket and trousers was a little too much, so I pulled over and put on my waterproofs, taking the opportunity to snap a picture as the mountains ahead looked like they might be hiding even worse weather...





With traffic very light the ride up into the mountains was easy and the threatened bad weather never materialised, just a few spots of rain which failed to dampen either me or my spirits. I was back on the road again, heading North for the first time in 4 months, and starting the last leg of the journey that will take me to Buenos Aires and the flight home. Concentrating on the riding and the scenery my mind was empty – the last 2 days having afforded me ample time to reflect on the journey so far. And what scenery it was. On the way in I'd been so focused on the last few miles, and so busy reflecting on what I'd done that I only noticed the half of it. As I crested the hill at the top of the Garibaldi Pass, the view across the lake to the distant hills was stunning, even in the overcast light of the day. Naturally I had to stop for one more “bike, lake, mountains” photos...





The road then wound its way down the mountains and back towards the flat-land that covers most of Tierra del Fuego, this little island at the end of the world. I rode past the Hosteria Kaiken, the hotel we'd stayed at for our last night before the ride to Ushuaia, and along the side of the beautiful lake on which it sits. I rode across deserted moorland, leaning the bike into the heavy crosswind that threatened to blow me straight into the path of any oncoming traffic – of which there was thankfully precious little. I rode with the South Atlantic Ocean just metres away on my right, the water bright green and topped with bubbling white surf as the waves broke at the end of their long journey to shore. I rode for almost 3 hours with only a couple of little roadside stops until I arrived once more at the border that separates the Argentinian side of the island from the Chilean, a border we have to cross in order to get to the ferry to the mainland before crossing back into Argentina. Before joining the queues of coaches and lorries crossing, I filled up with fuel and grabbed a coffee, being joined by Jim and Mac. I've shared a room with Jim for the whole trip, but this was our first coffee on the road together. As others arrived I went and started the border formalities, getting myself stamped out of the country and then handing in the bike permit. Then I rode the short dirt road between the borders, arriving back at the Chilean side and getting yet another entry stamp for me in my passport and handing in a completed temporary vehicle import permit for it to be signed and stamped. This stage caused some problems, as it would appear that when I cross the border from Northern Chile into Argentina and handed in the permit, it wasn't entered into the computer. I soon resolved the issue, explaining that I'd always handed the forms in and that I'd been in and out of Chile since then, then showing all the entry and exit stamps in my passport. They seemed happy enough with this explanation and signed and stamped the permit and then I had to go to the agricultural inspection guy to hand in another form and get the SAG woman outside to inspect the bike to check I wasn't smuggling any fruit or meat into the country. When she was satisfied I wasn't, I was on my way, back into Chile and onto the dirt road that covers the final 70-mile section to Cerro Sombrero.

This is the last dirt road of the main route, and I was determined to try and enjoy it. Over the past few weeks since my fall I've started to hate riding on the dirt, the loose gravel sections the cause of a fair amount of pain. But I used to love them, and have very fond memories of the Dalton Highway, the 17-mile dirt road ride the day after the heavy drinking at Beaver Creek, the Moki Dugway and Valley of the Gods, etc. Knowing that this road was in good condition on the way down helped, but I was wary of how quickly these roads can change as a result of bad weather or roadworks. Picking a line on the hard-packed mud and avoiding the light sprinkling of loose gravel at the roadsides I upped my pace, riding at a comfortable 55-60 mph, sat down as the road was flat enough and almost devoid of potholes. The road had more traffic on it than on the way down, and I had to overtake a few lorries and a 4x4, the lorries going slowly and the 4x4 a little faster. This continued for a fair distance until I encountered the stretch of loose gravel I remembered from the way up, which covered about 2 miles and slowed my pace down to around 30mph, the waggling of the handlebars causing pain in my shoulder and causing me to worry it might develop into a full-on tank-slapper, where they go one way then the other uncontrollably. Fortunately it didn't, but my reduced pace meant that the 4x4 caught me back up and passed me. When we got clear of the loose gravel I was able to up my pace again, catching the 4x4 back up and re-passing it again. The additional challenge of overtaking made the journey fly by, and I really started to enjoy myself. At one point I passed a large lorry that had toppled into the ditch at the side of the road, with another lorry parked alongside it offering assistance. Seems even the lorry drivers can get target fixation and ride into ditches...

As I got further North the terrain either side of the road opened out and there were guanacos grazing by the roadside. These deer-like animals get spooked by the approaching bike and take off, sometimes straight into the fields, othertimes straight across the road and present a real hazard. Spotting them is not always easy, as they're pretty well camouflaged.





But I was on my game and didn't have any problems, making good time and arriving at the hotel around 4pm. There was no-one at the check-in desk, but the room list and keys were there, so I grabbed the key to my room (the same one I'd been in 5 nights ago) and made my way there. Looking in the room I saw some coats on my bed, so returned to reception and found the woman who I asked about the coats. She came back to the room with me and then started to wake the small child than had been sleeping under the coats, who then proceeded to scream the house down. Needless to say that once word of me waking a small child in my bedroom got to the group there was a fair amount of mickey-taking, Aaron keen to try and get his own back for all the penguin jibes...

Also staying in the hotel is a group of mostly German bikers on one of the Moto Aventura trips run in conjunction with Edelweiss. Moto Aventura were the folk that sorted out our tyres in Osorno, and it was good to see them again. Dinner was a set meal again, this time salmon which I struggled to eat (I'm not a great fan of salmon). As today is Finn's last day with us before he heads for home, we toasted his contribution with a decent bottle of red. And so to bed around 10.30pm, hoping that I can lie-in in the morning as we have another late departure (10am) as we head across the ferry and back into Argentina – our last border crossing...