Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

Despite having pinched Jim's pillow (as he was somewhere else) I woke at 3am in some discomfort, a sharp pain between my shoulder blades and all down the left side of my back. In the pitch black I searched for the light switch, only to discover that there was no electricity, the generators being switched off at midnight and back on again in the morning. I resorted to using my laptop as a torch as I fumbled about trying to find some painkillers which thankfully I did. After half an hour of sitting on the edge of the bed clutching a pillow to my chest and forcing myself to take deep breaths the pain eased a little and I could lay back down again. Seems beds that are too hard or too soft aggravate the problem. How Tracy copes with constant back pain is beyond me, at least mine only hurts for a short time and is (hopefully!) temporary, the result of my cracked rib.

I woke again around 6am, and despite this being a very relaxed day, got up and showered, joining the other early riser (Ozzy Andy) by the log fire whilst the rest of the house (and tents, Jeff, Finn and Late Guy all camping) slept. I used the opportunity to do my usual early morning blog-writing, but with a very poor Internet connection couldn't post it. The plan for the day was to ride into Torres del Paine National Park, an area of outstanding beauty, with lakes and mountains and wildlife in abundance. My problem was that the ride consisted of around 150 miles of dirt – most likely high quality dirt but dirt nonetheless. Having had such pain in the night I decided that I'd forgo the park and use the day to rest up and try and fix the video camera on my bike which had recently stopped working. So after a good breakfast I settled into one of the chairs by the fire and started reading a book – the first I've picked up since Alaska – one called “Harley to Mali” by Ian Mutch of the Motorcycle Action Group (a protest organisation in the UK) about his experiences on the Globebusters Africa trip in April 2009. It's not a great book, but it does feature Hamish, who is currently on the Patagonia trip just a couple of days ahead of us and who should have been doing the full Trans Am. He's quite a character and knowing him a little makes the book more interesting. So whilst I settled down to a morning's reading, the rest of the group got themselves all wrapped up and rode out into the crisp clear morning to go to the park. Well, most of them did. Al was one of the first to leave but had only been gone half an hour or so when he returned, face ashen complaining that he'd been sick at the roadside. He came back in and went straight to his room, and that was the last I saw of him all day. Late Guy lived up to his name by appearing when everyone else had gone, complaining that he was concerned about dropping his bike and not being able to pick it up again if he was on his own – the result of his last fall on Ruta 40 when he hurt his shoulder and ribs (a trip to the hospital confirming nothing was broken). Jeff and I encouraged him to strip the excess weight off his bike and finally he did so, removing his panniers and 5ltr fuel can and assorted chains and other crap and turning his bike back into something more like a motorcycle and less like Steptoe's cart. When he'd gone I set about trying to fix the camera, removing the fuel tank to check for a wiring problem. Everything seemed in order so the problem must be with the camera itself, which means that I have footage of the ride from the top of the world down to the point of my accident, then some slanted footage in Argentina (the camera being gaffa-taped back on but not horizontally) and then nothing any further. I did manage to re-mount my sat nav though, using several cable ties to fix it to the broken bracket, so the day wasn't a complete waste. When I was finished it was getting on for lunch-time, so I put my bike gear on and headed back to the café by the border, where I'd heard they also had stickers. Desperate for a Chilean flag to complete the set, I was disappointed to discover they only had some with pictures of the national park I wasn't going to see... Inside the café were Tony and Late Guy, Tony having got to the start of the dirt road and seen the graders at work and with a sore shoulder opting to do the same as me and rest, and Late Guy who'd stopped for a coffee whilst still trying to decide what to do. We had a coffee together and I grabbed an empenada (like a cornish pasty and very tasty) for lunch, then I bid them farewell and rode past the hotel to the Peurto Natales, the next town. Just before I arrived I past Jim and Mac coming the other way, heading towards the hotel. Sat by the side of a blue lake that was a mass of white horses in the strong wind, Peurto Natales reminded me of Fleetwood out of season, only smaller and with more run-down housing (those of you who know Fleetwood may find that picture hard to come by!). I rode along the lakeside and when the road entered the port proper headed inland towards the centre looking for a sticker-shop. Just a couple of blocks up was a touristy tack-shop, so I parked outside and went in, where I found just what I was looking for. With my quest complete, I rode back out of town, filling up with fuel ready for the morning and back to the hotel. Back at the hotel I discovered the reason for Jim's non-appearance yesterday, as he and Mac had continued on Ruta 40 past the turn-off for the border, riding a further 100 miles on dirt before stopping in the town of Bella Vista for the night. Seems even with GPS and route notes they prefer to go their own way, and just accept whatever adventure they find... This morning they'd ridden back the 100 miles of dirt before crossing the border near Peurto Natalaes and heading north to meet us.

I spent the rest of the afternoon reclining in the chair beside the fire reading and chatting to the group as they returned in small groups. All of them seemed to have enjoyed the park and raved about its beauty. Max & Christine and Richard & Karen had been travelling together and witnessed the birth of a guanaco, and had pictures to prove it. Quite the David Attenboroughs! Finn and Pertti had naturally gone looking for more challenging trails to ride and had found a couple of narrow bridges to cross, their photos showing they did so several times... But despite all these tales of great days in the park I know I made the right choice, the ache in my back feeling better and I was feeling rested. With just a few days to go now until we reach Ushuaia, I'm determined to stay as fit as I can so I enjoy it. Besides, the hotel in it's mountain setting was not a bad place to spend the day...





That evening we all ate in the hotel, a lighter meal than yesterday with chicken in white wine sauce and rice, washed down with a nice bottle of Chardonnay. After dinner the group spilt into smaller groups, some playing cards by the fire, whilst others like me preferred to sit and chat before turning in. It seems that the closer we get to our goal the quieter the group is in the evenings, everyone conserving their energies, the conversations focused on reflection, the tones subdued... or perhaps they're just saving themselves for a really big party in Ushuaia...