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Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog
The Just One More Mile story of Paul's Trans Americas 2009 motorcycle expedition.Thursday, 12 November 2009
Beautiful Patagonia...
After another uncomfortable night's sleep I was breakfasted and on the road fairly early, riding alone by the side of the lake. It was so beautiful that I hadn't gone more than 5 miles when I had to pull over to take yet another “bike by the lake” photo...
Sadly, shortly after I resumed the ride, the tarmac gave way to dirt, rough and rocky the bike bouncing about and causing me to whine like a girl. Having previously loved riding on the dirt, I found myself positively hating it. And we have about 1,000 miles of dirt to ride before Ushuaia. Just hope that my dislike of the dirt is temporary and caused by my poor physical condition. Fortunately this section of dirt only lasted for 3 miles and then I was back on lovely smooth tarmac again, and could stop complaining. Once again I found myself riding through picture-postcard scenery under a bright blue sky and the effect on my aching bones was immediate and very positive. The fact that it was slightly cold and I had put my electric jacket on may have contributed to my general inner warmth. I also decided that I would stop more frequently to get off the bike and stretch, which afforded me some ideal opportunities to take yet more photographs of mountains...
The lush green mountains gave way to more barren brown fields then an almost desert-like moonscape, whilst the road straightened out, heading all the way to the horizon in one uninterrupted line. With very little traffic, and no music in my ears, the ride was at times a little tedious, only a strong side-wind to keep my attention from wandering. The regular stops helped, and gave me some time to just enjoy being here, in the middle of nowhere...
Eventually I reached the junction leading to the road to the border, a stretch of some 35 miles of dirt. By now I was a little more relaxed, but still rode very slowly, crawling along to try and avoid the worst of the rocks and shocks. On arriving at the border post, I went into the portakabin-style building where the customs guy checked my passport and bike import permit, then stamped me out and directed me to the other customs guy who took the bike permit and entered details in his computer. A short ride later and I entered the Chilean border control...
The borders are definitely getting easier, the process of re-entering Chile involving little more than filling in a small form and handing over my passport, then handing the vehicle document (V5) to the aduana guy who found the details already on the computer and printed off a new import permit for me to sign. Finally, the agricultural inspection guy to complete another form, then outside to open the panniers and have a quick chat as he did a cursory inspection job. Thankfully Chile had found some tarmac, and the road from the border to the town of Futaleufu was smooth and twisty, the 7 miles taking very little time to cover. Once in the town I found the hotel (it was easy to spot as there was a row of BMW motorcycles parked outside) and checked in. As Jim has gone off with Mac on a different route to avoid the dirt, I got to share with Chris (Danielle also opting to skip the worst of the dirt and fly to El Calafate). Before I'd even got my bags in the room there was a beer poured for me, which set the tone for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Sat by a real fire with cold beer and magazines to skim through, I was quite content. Before dinner Kevin announced that we needed to hand in our driving licences and vehicle permits as the customs guy wanted to inspect them before we rode onto the Carretera Austral in the morning. This turned out to be a ruse, as Gerald had found Nick's driving licence on the floor of the customs building. With Nick running up and down the stairs and re-checking his bike in a desperate search for his missing licence, it was no surprise that he was immediately presented with the Prat-Hat...
We were also presented with a free Pisco Sour to celebrate our return to Chile, and with Late Guy on a mission to break the record I'd set in Chiclayo (8 pisco sours) it became quite a drunken evening. I tried to hold on to the record, drinking several of the disgusting things before I realised I was incapable of speech, so retired to bed, leaving a large portion of the group getting more and more rowdy whilst playing Jenga... perhaps drinking so much the day before we start riding the Carretera Austral was not such a great idea... then again, maybe the alcohol will help me sleep...
Sadly, shortly after I resumed the ride, the tarmac gave way to dirt, rough and rocky the bike bouncing about and causing me to whine like a girl. Having previously loved riding on the dirt, I found myself positively hating it. And we have about 1,000 miles of dirt to ride before Ushuaia. Just hope that my dislike of the dirt is temporary and caused by my poor physical condition. Fortunately this section of dirt only lasted for 3 miles and then I was back on lovely smooth tarmac again, and could stop complaining. Once again I found myself riding through picture-postcard scenery under a bright blue sky and the effect on my aching bones was immediate and very positive. The fact that it was slightly cold and I had put my electric jacket on may have contributed to my general inner warmth. I also decided that I would stop more frequently to get off the bike and stretch, which afforded me some ideal opportunities to take yet more photographs of mountains...
The lush green mountains gave way to more barren brown fields then an almost desert-like moonscape, whilst the road straightened out, heading all the way to the horizon in one uninterrupted line. With very little traffic, and no music in my ears, the ride was at times a little tedious, only a strong side-wind to keep my attention from wandering. The regular stops helped, and gave me some time to just enjoy being here, in the middle of nowhere...
Eventually I reached the junction leading to the road to the border, a stretch of some 35 miles of dirt. By now I was a little more relaxed, but still rode very slowly, crawling along to try and avoid the worst of the rocks and shocks. On arriving at the border post, I went into the portakabin-style building where the customs guy checked my passport and bike import permit, then stamped me out and directed me to the other customs guy who took the bike permit and entered details in his computer. A short ride later and I entered the Chilean border control...
The borders are definitely getting easier, the process of re-entering Chile involving little more than filling in a small form and handing over my passport, then handing the vehicle document (V5) to the aduana guy who found the details already on the computer and printed off a new import permit for me to sign. Finally, the agricultural inspection guy to complete another form, then outside to open the panniers and have a quick chat as he did a cursory inspection job. Thankfully Chile had found some tarmac, and the road from the border to the town of Futaleufu was smooth and twisty, the 7 miles taking very little time to cover. Once in the town I found the hotel (it was easy to spot as there was a row of BMW motorcycles parked outside) and checked in. As Jim has gone off with Mac on a different route to avoid the dirt, I got to share with Chris (Danielle also opting to skip the worst of the dirt and fly to El Calafate). Before I'd even got my bags in the room there was a beer poured for me, which set the tone for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Sat by a real fire with cold beer and magazines to skim through, I was quite content. Before dinner Kevin announced that we needed to hand in our driving licences and vehicle permits as the customs guy wanted to inspect them before we rode onto the Carretera Austral in the morning. This turned out to be a ruse, as Gerald had found Nick's driving licence on the floor of the customs building. With Nick running up and down the stairs and re-checking his bike in a desperate search for his missing licence, it was no surprise that he was immediately presented with the Prat-Hat...
We were also presented with a free Pisco Sour to celebrate our return to Chile, and with Late Guy on a mission to break the record I'd set in Chiclayo (8 pisco sours) it became quite a drunken evening. I tried to hold on to the record, drinking several of the disgusting things before I realised I was incapable of speech, so retired to bed, leaving a large portion of the group getting more and more rowdy whilst playing Jenga... perhaps drinking so much the day before we start riding the Carretera Austral was not such a great idea... then again, maybe the alcohol will help me sleep...
posted by Paul # 23:32 
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