Day 1 – Border to Salta, 236 miles (341 for the day from Bolivia)

We arrived at the border at lunch time.  People were everywhere.  A policeman directed me to a parking spot in the shade.  I grabbed our passports and headed to the immigration office as usual.  There was a huge line.  It appeared to be a group of students and adults all together.  They were from another Latin American country and trying to get into Bolivia.  Usually there is a separate window for entering and exiting a country.  Since it was lunch time only one person was working one window for all visitors.  When exiting you just have to get your passport stamped and you can leave.  When entering they want to look everything over and it can take a while.  The group in front of me was entering.  The line wasn’t moving.  Furthermore, it appeared the group didn’t have all their paperwork together correctly.

Just when I thought I would have to pitch a tent the head immigration police officer approached me and took my passports to the window and had them stamped.  He then told me to go into Argentina and not worry about customs document for the motorcycle.  I usually turn those in and/or get a stamp.  On time I thought I saw a custom officer take the form and throw it away.  I guess some countries don’t worry about the form.  I presented him with the form and he kind of chuckled and told me to go ahead.  So I did.

The immigration line at the Argentina side was even longer.  I parked the bike – in a specific location under direct instructions.  I looked around trying to find a different solution to the long line but nothing appeared.  I thought to myself, this is when I could use an agent.  However, there are no agents in S.A. because you don’t need them.  Reluctantly, I walked to the back of the line.  I stood there for a while and again the head immigration police office, this time on the Argentina side, came to me and told me to follow him.  We went directly to the front of the line.  He handed my passports and bike documents to the workers behind the window and told them I was on a moto and to get the paperwork done quickly.  I didn’t know why this happened but I wasn’t about to say anything to slow matters.  Within a few minutes I had our passports back with the correct stamp.

The officer took me next door to the Aduana office and had one of the employees who had been standing around come and help me.  I was concerned.  This was the same grumpy guy who made me re-park my motorcycle three times until I got it just where he wanted it.  He stood around with a frown on his face every since we arrived.  Now he was being forced to help me.  He clearly wasn’t motivated and dragged his feet.  He mumbled for a while in his broken English until something about Miami showed up on the TV.  He said his lifelong dream was to go to Miami.  Whatever.  At least now he had some blood pumping in his veins and he started to work faster.  “Have you ever been to Miami,” he asked.  “Of course,” I said.  “It is a beautiful city.”  Within a few minutes we had our motorcycle permit.

Clara and I got on the bike and looked at the first sign.  “Ushuaia 5120 km” We’re in Argentina and it still seems so far away!  We headed out of town and through what I’ll call canyonlands.  The ride reminded me of riding through Utah.  There was a variety of mountains and canyons and weather affected artifacts.  The area has a unique beauty.

Since we left the low lands of Peru we have had the highways to ourselves.  This was no exception.  It’s hard to keep the speeds down when you have a good, twisty, scenic, and lonely highway,

We kept getting stopped by customs control agents at the first four or five towns we came to.  We’re accustom to getting our documents checked again 20-30 miles past a border crossing but we have never found so many control centers.  At one point we were asked to open up our hard cases so they could look through things.  After the third to fourth time we were not feeling very welcome in Argentina.

The countryside remained arid for about a hundred miles.  Then we started crossing large tributaries coming out of the mountains.  Then almost as quickly as turning a corner the countryside turned lush and green.  It was tropical in appearance.

The first large city we came to was San Salvador de JuJuy.  It was a beautiful city resting in a valley with outskirts stretching up the hillsides into the heavy vegetation.  We started to look for a hotel but opted to ride another 60 miles to Salta. 

We made a few wrong turns and ended up on a back road into Salta.  It was slow going but we both thought it was well worth the delay.  First we rode by a beautiful windy dirt track.  I don’t know what they race on it but it was clearly wide enough to race a large number of cars on the track.  We both knew Jesse would be very pleased to see the track.  I was afraid Clara was going to ask me to leave her there. 

Next we headed up what looked like a private drive or an oversize golf cart path.  It twisted its way right up into the rain forest.  It was first and second gear for an hour with the constant mist of being in a cloud.  It was fun riding and very scenic.  We came across several lakes but saw little evidence of people.  Clara and I both thought it had to be the road to heaven.  We kept looking for the gates or Saint Peter but we never found either.  We were often inches from sheer drop-offs.  I realized we could find Peter another way but we didn’t want to go that route so I always kept one eye on the road.

We eventually wound our way down the back side of the mountain we had climbed and into the suburbs of Salta.  We could easily have been anywhere in Colorado.  It was almost as though we entered another country.  There were nice homes, improved infrastructure, stop lights, signage and a general sense of order.  People stopped at stop signs.  There were no horns going through intersections.  People drove while staying in lanes.  We were clearly in a middle class neighborhood and it brought back some “north” of the border memories.

It was getting dark so we decided to take the first hotel, good or bad.  It wasn’t far until we pulled into a hotel that looked much like what we would see in the U.S.  There were rows of rooms with parking spots where you could ride right up to the room.  There was an outdoor pool and a separate but on-site restaurant.  Oh yeah, and a guy behind the reception desk that clearly didn’t want to help us.  He seemed annoyed that he had to sign us in, take our money, and show us to a room.  It makes you ponder the whole concept of progress but we’ll save that for another time.

Day 2 – Salta to San Blas, 343 miles

We stayed the night on the outskirts of town so in the morning we headed straight through town and pointed southwest towards Mendoza.  Riding through Salta is like nothing we have seen so far this entire trip, that is since leaving the U.S.  Because riding through Salta was like riding through a town in the US.  Argentina is the cleanest country we have been to since Costa Rica and it is a nice and welcome change.  Some other similarities are the fact that there are signs.  It is so nice to be in a country that actually tells you where you are going.  Argentina is the only country that we have visited that has actual signs telling you where you are, where you are going and what things are.  In Bolivia we didn’t know what buildings were what, which made it hard to find hotels.  There is also a large class system here, in that there are three classes.  The rich and middle classes are the more prominent.  There is a poor class, but they are not as prominent.  This class change also shows a change in living styles.  For the first time there are large farms and ranches with just as large estates sitting on them.  The land is kept clean and well tended, the animals are healthy looking and kept behind fences.  It is nice not to worry whether there will be livestock in the middle of the road when coming around the next corner.  There was also a number of clubs in Salta, like golf and polo to name a couple.  The middle class is the most prominent and is seen in plentiful suburbs, which also contain very nice homes side by side.  By being on the road, one of the best changes is the absence of honking.  There is order in the way people drive as dad mentioned and it is so nice to be sitting at an intersection and people just sit there.  They wait patiently for the light and there is no yelling or honking and no stress involved.

Once out of town and past a majority of the large ranches we started to follow this brilliant orange/red colored river.  The terrain turned into what reminded me of Moab, but with no people.  We only passed a couple of people on the road and it was so neat to be driving down a twisty road with rock formations all around us that twisted in every other direction.  There was one sign that pointed to ruins; obviously the natives liked the area as well. 

Once out of the rock formations we went down into the desert where we stayed the rest of the day and still are.  We instantly started to unzip anything we could on our suits to get the least bit more air.  We stopped in the first town for lunch, Cafayate.  Dad and I both recommend this as a place to visit and stay.  What a neat little town.  It is surrounded by wineries and has that small friendly feel filled with restaurants, hotels, cafes, and much more.  For lunch we stopped at the first place we saw, but there was much more available.  The food was good and the people were friendly.  Dad says the best part, however, is the road.  The road from Salta to Cafayate gets an A+.  He says you can start the ride in any mood you want but you will have a huge smile on your face when you are finished.

Unfortunately we didn’t shed our layers after lunch so we stopped on the road and shed the gear, dad was comfortable, but I was still hot in just my pants and shirt.  This is the first heat that we have experienced since Central America and it is killing me.  Every time we stopped I was chugging water.  The rest of the ride was nice, we saw a lot of camping signs which is big down here in Argentina and Chili, and we passed through a lot of other nice towns.  Dad commented on how the small towns have sidewalks.  Before we only saw that in the major cities, but here all the towns have them. 

We did hit dirt again, which wasn’t welcome, especially since the lack of rain made it extremely dusty, but we made it through.  There were some tricky spots with the sand, for instance dad was doing about 30 around a corner and bam we slid into sand so deep I could have put my feet down and touched it.  Dad started doing the handlebar dance while every muscle in my body tightened, one eye closed, and thinking that sand was better than pavement, but with the weight of the bike and me on the back he recovered the slide.  What a guy!

We are staying in San Blas, which is off the road from where we want to be, but it was the closest town when it started to get dark and we were running low on gas.  There isn’t internet, which surprises me being as modern as a lot of other things in the country are.  The outlets are still different as well and this is the first country that we have been to that dad has had to use his outlet adapter in order to plug things in.  Hey, not everything can be perfect. 

Day 3 – San Blas to San Juan, 338 miles                                                           

What a crazy day.  It started off normal, but with a later start.  The time change is still getting to us, and the hours that people eat and sleep here is way different then we are used to.  We ate breakfast at the hostel and then went back to the room to finish packing and head down the road.  While dad was packing part of the bike I had the door to the room open so we could go in and out.  The maid came and knocked and asked for the sheets.  Ok, I didn’t see a problem with it.  Until she started doing all the cleaning and remaking the beds while we were still packing.  There were three beds in the room and she was moving stuff onto the bed that we didn’t use.  She seemed determined to get us to move faster.  We got the hint and started hustling out of there. 

We had a great morning ride.  Ruta 40 turned into dirt at one point, but it had been recently graved so it wasn’t as bad as some of the other dirt roads we have experienced.  Dad says we will be following Ruta 40 most of the way to Ushuaia.  We will occasionally leave the road to go into Chile and see some glaciers.  When we started the kilometers posts were over 5,000.  Now they are under 4,000.  I guess we will always know how far we have to go.

We came to a fork in the road and thought about taking what we thought was a short cut, at least according to the map, but the town that we wanted wasn’t on the sign so we kept going straight.  Boy, is it a good thing we did.  What are the odds, we come around a corner and there was a motorcycle in the middle of the road with boxes and gear spread out on the side.  There are motorcycles everywhere here, but this was obviously a traveler.  Orlando from Austria was the rider and it was great hearing about his adventures.  He started in Canada, rode to Alaska and has slowly worked his way down.  The difference between us and him is that he has been traveling since 2004.  That is pretty common though, of the travelers that we run into they are always shocked at how fast we are moving.  The bolt that held Orlando’s shock to the wheel busted and we were his heaven sent to help him lift the bike so it could be fixed.  It was more like dad helped and I just watched and took pictures.  Hey, someone needs to make sure that we will remember this.  The shock was put back together, the bolt fixed and the whole thing was strapped to the bike so he would be able to get to the next town.  We left him there, it was going to take him awhile just to get all of his stuff back on the bike and we headed to Guandacol for lunch.  We were too late and we got there in the middle of siesta time.  The town was completely closed down.  I think we saw a total of 5 people in the entire town.  There was a gas station outside of town so we stopped and had a coke and some chocolate chip cookies.  Talk about healthy. 

We headed south full of sugar and drove by Santa Clara.  All I saw was a town, but I am sure that it is a great one.  We thought that we were done with dirt roads for the rest of the day, but we took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up taking a detour around highway 40 and of course it was on dirt.  It was shorter distance, but it took us longer and that is always frustrating.  We finally got back on track just south of San Jose de Jachal and it was smooth sailing all the way to San Jose.  At least so we thought.  We have grown accustomed to people waiving at us as they drive by either direction and we just smile and wave back.  When we were driving down the highway a truck passed us and the driver waived excitedly.  Dad didn’t see him, but I waived back, then a few miles down the road I saw the same truck, but on the side of the road and this time the driver was standing on the side of the road waiving us down.  I told dad and confused by the whole situation reluctantly pulled over.  Good thing we did because we then met Jim.  Just one more friend that we have made on our adventure.  Jim is in mining and travels the world.  He currently lives in Basil but is staying in San Juan.  He is American and was born and raised in Delaware.  He has always wanted to do a motorcycle adventure and had a lot of great questions for us.  It was fun talking to him and it was a nice break to take more pictures.  Wow, what a small world.  Now Jim wants to travel parts of the world with his daughters on a motorcycle.

Jim invited us to go to a company Christmas party that he was having tonight, and we thought it sounded like a great idea.  That was until the rear tire started going flat again.  Fortunately, the tire didn’t go all the way flat, but there was an obvious, slow leak.  It was getting dark and dad didn’t know if he could break the bead again so for the next 100 or so kilometers to San Juan we rode more slowly and stopped multiple times in order to put more air in the tire.  We finally made it to San Juan just as it was getting dark.  The nice part about arriving in San Juan so late was that we had a great view of the sunset behind the mountains. 

San Juan is another great Argentinean town.  We followed the main road right into to town, but we had trouble finding a hotel so we turned onto what looked like a major street and found a couple.  We are staying at the Hotel America.  The best part, and I am sure that all of you can agree, is that we were able to connect our laptop and post a week’s worth of web updates.  What a relief. 

We are sorry that we missed the Christmas party, but we know that we have a new friend.  We are both worn out from the day but we went into town to a highly recommended restaurant and had a very nice, although late dinner.  Then it was off to bed.

Day 4 – San Juan to Mendoza, 120 miles                                                          

We woke up this morning in time to have breakfast when it was officially served.  We have had trouble doing that since we entered Argentina and advanced another hour.  We are now four hours ahead of Mountain Time.  I don’t know why we tried so hard.  Since arriving in Argentina breakfast has consisted of hard, burnt toast and café.  None of the eggs, potatoes, fruit, pastries, juices and breakfast meats we had become attached to up north.  At least this morning we had a little cereal to go with our hot milk.

Breakfast didn’t sit well with Clara.  She went back to the room to rest and spend some time in the bathroom.  I went on a mission to get some of the last five days of dirt roads off the Kawasaki.  It wasn’t going to happen.  I keep forgetting how tightly everything shuts down on Sundays.  I filled the bike with gas and went back to the hotel to check on Clara.  She was feeling worse.  Her symptoms are isolated to her stomach but she has sharp pains that come and go.  When they go she feels great.

We opted to ride the short, planned distance to Mendoza.  I plan to finally replace the Avon Distanzias after 8.5 thousand miles on them.  Of course, I’ll have to wait until Monday morning to do so.  I figured I’d find a nice hotel where Clara could just relax for two days.

The ride into Mendoza was uneventful.  However, as we approached the city you could start to see huge snow-capped mountains to the west.  We also climbed a bit so the temperatures were presently cool.  We knew we could escape to the high mountains if necessary.

Finding a hotel in Mendoza was more of an event.  We rode all through town, along the highway and didn’t find anything.  We finally got on a street heading out of town and saw a Wal-mart.  I told Clara there had to be a hotel near the Wal-mart.  We got turned around and found a different road back toward town and finally found a hotel.  It is a chain hotel I have seen in America, Microtel Inn & Suites.  It was a little pricier than the other hotels we had been staying at but it is comfortable and Clara is already getting some needed rest.  If she feels better tomorrow she can use the pool.  Another added benefit is that they have wireless Internet service so we will be able to post the latest information just before we leave.

I asked the receptionist if there was a place I could wash my bike on a Sunday.  He said only one place.  Of course, it was all the way back across town.  He drew me directions on a map and off I went.  I got to see more of the city including some large, lovely parks, exclusive clubs and some very pricy neighborhoods.  All the major streets are lined with huge trees creating a natural canopy. 

I found the car wash.  It was the first do-it-yourself car wash that I have seen for a long time.  It was busy so I waited in line.  Throughout Latin America people are often washing their vehicles.  It is nice to see the pride they take in their stuff.

I returned to the hotel and found Clara still sleeping.  I know whatever has attacked her is hitting her hard.  Fortunately, she isn’t running a fever or showing any other signs of anything viral.  I’ll let her rest and see what I can do for her when see gets up.

Day 5 – Errands around Mendoza, 20 miles

Clara felt a little better this morning so we went downstairs to have a little breakfast.  Then Clara went back to bed as I headed out to find tires.

Contacts are a good thing to have.  North of Salta we ran into a guy who leads motorcycle tours.  He gave me the name of a guy in Mendoza who imports and sells Meltzeler tires.  These are better tires than the soft, widely available Pirelli tires.  They also last about twice as long.

I went to find this shop owned by Carlos.  I found the building but it was locked up tight.  I found a neighbor who told me to come back after 11:00.  I still can’t figure out what hours people operate around here.

A little after eleven I headed back to the shop and found it open.  It was a BMW repair shop.  There were dozens of old BMW’s in different states of repair.  Carlos is a very friendly man interested in all bikers.  He had a wide selection of tires and, more importantly, had the sizes I needed.  I thought the price was very fair.

I put the new tires on the back of the motorcycle and headed back to the hotel.  I started to replace the back tire and again ran into an issue trying to break the bead.  No luck.  I quickly replaced the front tire and put the rear tire back on the bike.  I rode the bike with the valve stem out of the rear tire for several miles to try and break the bead.  Again, no luck.  Finally, I got a taxi and took the tire to a tire repair shop.  They had to put a power bead breaker on it twice to get it to pop.  I like the feel and wear of the Avon Distanzia tires.  But be forewarned.  If you go with the tubeless tire you have to carry a bead breaker in your tool kit.  They make a tube tire in the same size.  I thought I was being clever by going with the tubeless one since it had a higher load and speed rating.  I would use the tire again but would definitely pack the bead breaker.  The Meltzeler tires I put on also appear to be very high quality.  The rear is a tube type while the front is a tubeless type.  Oh well, you take what you can get.  The shop went ahead and took the tire off and placed the Meltzeler on.  They charged me about 65 cents.

I also cleaned the air filter.  I looked everything else over and it looks like the bike is ready to finish this trip.  The KLR has performed very well.

After I got the bike back together Clara and I went over to Wal-Mart.  They have shaded parking lots except for the first few rows closest to the door.  It is so funny to see all the close spots empty because everyone wants to use the shaded spots.  I think this is a clever idea.  I hope it catches on in the U.S.  Another great idea is the guys running around with mini car washers on wheels.  You can arrange to have your car washed while you are shopping in Wal-Mart.  What will they think of next?

We went to the closest gas station to gas up for the long ride tomorrow.  The gas stations here have gasoline, diesel, gas and oil mix for two strokes and propane.  Half of the aisles are reserved for propane.  People drive their car up and the attendant takes a hose off a pump and attaches it with a quick connect.  Fast, easy and simple.  It appears about half the vehicles use propane. 

We went back to the hotel to swim in the pool.  It was a little too cold for us.  It was back to the room to rest for the night.

Day 6 – Mendoza to Chos-Malal, 461 miles

The alarm went off bright and early this morning.  We had breakfast, packed the bike and left Mendoza heading toward other wonderful Argentinean towns.  Just out of town we were greeted by snow capped mountains to the west.  It was just like being back in Colorado and they were gorgeous.  They followed us on and off through our long journey today.  It also wasn’t long after we headed down the road that we came to the 3,000 kilometer marker.  When we arrived in Argentina it was over 5000.  Amazing, only 2,000 and something to go and we will be at the most southern inhabited town.  We drove for a few hours then we stopped on the side of the road and had some snacks at a gas station for lunch.  We didn’t get gas there since we had filled the bike only 70km before and didn’t see the need.  Well, there was a need.  What we didn’t know was there weren’t any gas stations for more than 300km.  There was nothing about the three or four towns on the map that suggested they wouldn’t have gas.  The KLR is a great bike, but she still needs gas to run and it did start to get low later in the trip. 

After our snack we headed on down the road.  As in roads, well, it wasn’t the best.  The map showed paved, but it was more like half pavement and half dirt and gravel.  As the passenger, I like pavement and I can handle dirt on this trip, but I hate when they are mixed together.  The pavement caused huge grooves and in order to get back on the pavement the tire has to hit it like a wall and it vibrates up my spine.  My back and neck are feeling it tonight.  However the scenery was beautiful and the country filled with lakes, mountains, canyons, and lots of volcanoes.  I have never seen so much volcanic rock, or so many volcanoes all in one area.  When we first started seeing so much volcanic rock on the side of the road I could count up to 10 different volcanoes that had craters in them, all on the eastern horizon.  It seemed as though we were following the black rock forever. 

In the middle of no where and rding down the bumpy half and half road we ran into Michael from Germany.  Talk about a godsend.  I guess what comes around goes around.  We were chatting with Michael and he informed us that there were not any gas stations for a good 150km or more.  Uh Oh!  There was no way that we could make it that far.  Dad calculated that we might be able to go 100km.  To our amazement and thankfulness Michael was prepared and had 1 liter of gas strapped to the back of his bike.  We bought the gas from him, talked a bit more and also found out that there were two more motorcycles, also from Germany in front of us.  Wow, what a small world.  We left Michael and went as fast as we could down the paved/dirt roads and not only caught up with the two other riders, but we passed them.  One rider was driving a new KTM 950 Adventure and the other a new BMW GS 1200.  They are $13-15,000 dual sport bikes, the cream of the crop.  They probably weren’t too happy about being passed by not only a smaller bike, one third the price, and with two riders but we needed gas and fast.  It was about the time that we passed them that we had to switch on the reserve, but luckily we also hit a nice paved road, which allowed for more cruising.  We finally coasted down a huge mountain and made it to a gas station in Bardas Blancas.  While getting gas the two other riders pulled in.  We had a nice chat with them, but the sun was starting to head towards the mountains fast and we needed to find a town that had a hotel. 

We put on a lot of miles today, more than any other day.  However, it was easy riding.  We rode through vast and changing deserts.  We constantly had a view of massive snow capped mountains.  If we felt too hot we could look at all the snow and somehow feel some relief.  Dad said it was another day for big jugs – meaning bigger pistons or more displacement.  Other than the hundred or so miles of dirt/old pavement we could have safely ridden at over 100mph and reduced the riding time without taking anything away from the scenery.  For most of the day we had the road to ourselves.  It is amazing how few people are on the roads outside of towns.

We rode on to Chos-Malal, the first town that had a sign for a hotel, it took us a little bit, but we found a nice hostel that allows us to park the bike right in front of the door, so we couldn’t refuse.  Tomorrow we will be heading to Chile, so watch for us there.

Day 7 –Chos-Malal to San Martin de los Andes, 280 miles

We’re starting to adapt to the new time zone.  We got earlier this morning, still around 7:00am, and went to breakfast.  While there we studied an updated map on the wall.  Opposite of our map, it showed the road to San Martin de los Andes as paved all the way and the highway we planned on taking to Chile as dirt.  Given the miles and rough dirt roads we rode yesterday we opted for the paved route.  More importantly, this allowed me to share a real gem in the Andes with Clara.  This is one of the places where I stayed on my Road to Patagonia adventures a few years ago.

The route out of Chos-Malal was more of the same.  It was a good road but continued through the desert.  It did, however, move closer and closer to the massive snow capped mountains we had been paralleling the last few days.  With the closer proximity to the snow and glaciers and slightly higher elevations we were reaching the temperatures dropped noticeably from the previous day.

As we got closer to more abundant water we saw more ranches and farming.  The last few days we crossed many large rivers.  Often there is some civilization along the river but many of them seem totally uninhabited.  In fact, I’ve been surprised in Argentina to find both, so much vast desert and to find it so sparsely populated.

We turned off the famed Ruta 40 to head into the resort towns of Juan de los Andes and San Martin de los Andes.  We had lunch at a very nice restaurant in Juan.  After topping off the gas tank we headed toward San Martin.  This is the first time I felt like we were actually in Colorado.  The entire 30 miles or so between these two towns is lush green growth and pine forests with large estates, golf courses and country clubs.  The entire town of San Martin caters to tourism.  The town offers skiing in the winter, boating in the summer, golf, tennis, fishing, hiking and bike riding year round.  It is much like Aspen or Vail with the added pleasure or attraction of a huge, beautiful lake.  There are three huge national parks nearby.  Tomorrow we will travel the “Seven Lakes Drive” as we head to San Carlos de Bariloche.

We hit the city during the off-season.  Several hotels were closed until February including the Hotel Anay where I had hoped to stay.  This hotel is owned by motorcyclists.  In fact, one of the sons has ridden several ISDE events for Argentina.  Fabio was of much help to me when I lost my passport in this area several years ago.  I hoped to see him again.

We found a nice hotel that was open.  They seemed happy to have our business during this slow time of the year.  We took the extra time we had to walk the beach, downtown areas and grab a quick siesta.  We plan to eat dinner at a place highly recommend to us.  We still have to adjust to the time frame here.  We had been going to bed around 9:00pm.  That is what time the restaurants here open for dinner.  When in Rome…

Update.  On our walk to dinner we ran into Fabio.  He is still riding and racing.  It turns out they have the hotel closed for painting.  I found out he is a new father.  He is working with KTM now and may have a fleet of new 450 EXC’s soon.  At that time he will be offering off-road adventures through Patagonia.  He is already working with land managers and owners to provide unique and special routes not available anywhere else.  If you want to see Patagonia via dirt, doing so with Fabio will be just the ticket.  His family is very well connected down here. I think he is fourth generation.

Clara and I continued to walk the town trying to find one of several restaurants recommended to us.  However, there are hundreds of restaurants in this small resort town and we never did find one of the ones on our list.  It didn’t matter.  We went into the first one we saw that was open and it turned out to be very good.  Clara had some homemade pasta and I had some trout.  We walked back to the hotel in the cool mountain air.

I was surprised to learn this town is only two thousand feet in elevation and yet has world class skiing only minutes away.  In fact, there are numerous ski areas in the nearby mountains.  However, San Martin itself gets little if any snow.  The temperatures don’t drop below freezing, thus the lake never freezes over.  So this is a ski resort town without the snow or cold.  Go figure.

Day 8 –San Martin de los Andes to San Jose de Bariloche, 150 miles

Wow!  Today was an awesome scenery day.  It was filled with water and more wildflowers.  What a beautiful ride we were treated to today.  It was a short 150 miles to Bariloche, but every mile was good, even the dirt.  We rode the Seven Lakes road but it seemed like we passed many more than that.  We saw multiple waterfalls and an abundance of wildflowers of all kinds and colors.  It was a bit on the cool side early in the ride, but the weather was wonderful and not a cloud in the sky.

Breakfast was at eight and to dad’s disappointment there were still no eggs.  So far every breakfast that we have had in Argentina has been egg-less and dad is going into withdraws.  It was better than usual though with more of a variety.  We were on the road shortly thereafter and we had nice paved roads before finally hitting dirt.  We knew by the map that there would be dirt ahead and as far as dirt roads go it was in great condition except for the construction areas.  Obviously they are trying to make the whole stretch paved.  That will be great when finished. 

We rode along the Seven Lakes road filled with lots of twists and turns and campsites.  We have seen camping areas on and off since we entered Argentina, but this is the place to camp.  There are all sorts of the camping options from high class to pitch your tent on the side of the road.  The road was also filled with tourist buses, but the whole time we have been in these two tourist towns we have not run into any English speaking tourists.  They must exist because a fair amount of locals know a few English words. 

We saw more bicyclists today.  This is a very popular hobby in Argentina.  From recreational to competitive, you see many bicyclists on the road.  By the look of things, they spend plenty of money on those high-tech looking bikes.

In addition to all the lakes, we also rode through three national parks and by several ski places.  We can tell this is a popular area by the increased traffic even during low season.

We could see Bariloche for quite a while before we arrived there.  Once there it was a beautiful ride along the lake.  It is hotel after hotel here so it was surprising that the first hotel we stopped at was way over $100.  I don’t know what special things they had to offer because the next hotel down had the same view and was only $50.  It is amazing how close they are and how wide the price difference is.  I suspect that across the street from the lake front is even cheaper.

We stopped for lunch at a pizzeria on the side of the road and then headed down to get a look at the famous Llao Llao hotel.  It was quite a sight sitting on top of a green hill, wrapped by a golf course and looking over two different lakes.  Dad says that many presidents and world leaders stay there.  It was obvious when we drove up the road and the security house was loaded with about 5 men in black suits.  I am sure that security is pretty steep there.  Dad stayed here on his Patagonia ride but we didn’t even ask for a price knowing it was out of our budget.

It was after that, that we found our own hotel and it has just as good of a view looking over the main lake.  It is called the Hosteria Santa Rita and sits right on the lake.  Score.  It was another short day, but there is no complaining.  The next few days will be filled with lots of miles so we are here to rest up.  Looking out our room window makes that easy to do.

Day 9 – San Jose de Bariloche to Sarmiento, 436 miles

COLD… was definitely the forecast for today.  Between the wind and the cold temperatures I froze even though the sun was out most of the day.  The electric vests helped, but we both have commented on how we will be wearing more clothing tomorrow.  Dad warned me that it was windy down here, but I never expected such high winds.  What’s worse is we haven’t even gotten to the really windy areas.  We both have cramps in our necks and backs from pushing back at the wind and from leaning forward trying to keep warm.  The next couple weeks should be interesting.

Breakfast was at 8:00am and as usual we were the first ones up.  It was nice to have a relaxing breakfast overlooking the lake.  I had to drag dad away from the table or he would have sat there and watched the water crash along the shore all day long.  We had some miles to put down so we packed and headed out into the cold.  At first the ride was just cold with scattered sprinkles, but it was a beautiful ride and that made up for it.  It was when we slowly made our way down to flatter ground that it started to get so windy that the bike was in a lean going down the road. 

We saw a lot more touring bikes today, even a few couples.  It is neat to see so many riders and so many in one day.  Of course, the Lake District is a very special place and gets lots of tourists.  Dad says it is like Colorado with much more rivers, lakes and glaciers.  Also the mountains are much more massive in scale.  With the added water there is more abundant vegetation and color.  Today we saw everything from purples and lavenders to shades of red, orange and yellow.  Of course, there were countless shades of green on the ground and blue in the sky.  We had about a hundred miles of riding through what looked like a painting until we headed eastwardly down into the desert.

We also saw a lot of dirt bikes and some ATV’s being hauled north.  Dad thinks there may be some sort of a race or event this weekend.

We stopped for lunch in Trecka, but they didn’t have a restaurant so eating at the gas station suited us fine.  It was warm and there was food, so we were happy campers.  While we were there dad tightened and oiled the chain with a school group of boys gathered around in awe.  It was hard to leave with the mass group huddled around us and the bike. 

Back into the wind we went and drove to the next town and topped off with gas since the next gas stop wouldn’t be for quite a few miles.  The desert has its own beauty but it does lose some of its interest after a hundred miles or so.  The extreme wind doesn’t help.  It was nice to look off in the distance and still see snow capped mountains.  It wasn’t until we arrived in Sarmiento that we were beat from taking a beating and decided to call it a day.

We traded Bariloche, which sits between two large beautiful lakes for Sarmiento which also sits between two large lakes.  Bariloche got the better pick.  Sarmiento is a bedroom community for all the gas, oil and mining extraction going on in the area.  The area is flat and very windy.

Since the town doesn’t cater to tourists, it was hard to find a hotel.  Luckily for us we found one with hot water and it was extremely hard getting out.  We walked over to a pizzeria, which was the only place in town that was open and had cheeseburgers and ice cream for dinner.  Pretty American, but it sure was good.  The hamburgers in Central America were nothing like we are used to, but Argentina knows how to make a good burger, but of course when it comes to meat they don’t know how to fail. 

Day 10 – Sarmiento to Piedrabuena, 428 miles

It was so dark in our room that it was hard to get up at an early hour.  Since we went to bed so early we woke up at about 7:00am.  We could hear the wind howling away outside and that also made it hard to get up.  We got dressed in just about everything we have with us and headed down the road.  Yesterday the word of the day was COLD.  Today it was WIND.  It was a little cold in the morning, but warmed up nicely the closer we got the coast.  The wind however just got worse.  The wind is constant in Patagonia but dad says it is much worse in Argentina than he remembered it in the mountains of Chilean Patagonia.

When we got close to the Atlantic Ocean things really got out of control.  It was like evil met violence.  Earlier we were just experiencing extreme wind and whiplash but this was ridiculous.  The wind would push us down the road at over 80 mph with no throttle and then whip around and have us going 10-20mph at full throttle.  That was when the wind was directly to our back or front.  Most of the time it was at an angle and then things just got ugly.  We would get whipped from one side of the lane to the other and back constantly.  Occasionally we got thrown into the opposite lane without warning or to the edge of our lane with a drop-off just hairs away.  Dad never said anything but I could tell it was wearing him out.  He was doing all he could to keep the bike moving forward.  I’m very thankful we didn’t get thrown into the opposite lane when a car or truck was coming.

On the road west we passed a lot of oil drills.  It looked like Texas.  There must be something about flat and windy areas that contain oil.  Dad says nobody would volunteer to live in this area so it is a great area for extraction.  He appreciates the companies like YPF, TGS and others that work this extreme environment and their employees to help improve the lives of millions.  All the towns out here seem to be here just to support the gas, oil and mineral mining going on. 

When we reached Highway 3, the highway that goes north and south along the east coast, we headed north a few miles to Comodoro Rivadavia to get some breakfast.  We stopped at the first restaurant sign that we saw, which was part of a hotel.  Even though we weren’t guests we had the usual hot beverage and some type of pastry.  The pastries were old and when dad asked for eggs the guy laughed as he said, “No”.  It has become quite the joke that Argentina doesn’t have eggs. 

After breakfast we headed south and traveled along the ocean.  It had nice green tint to it and there were hardly any waves as it was shallow for a long ways out.  Dad says there were the normal waves coming in but the wind was so strong it was actually pushing the tops of the waves back over themselves and to sea.  It was the strangest thing.  There were white caps going away from the beach as far out as you could see.

After awhile we headed inland and the scenery didn’t change much all the way to Comandante Luis Piedrabuena.  It was flat barren land with shrubbery of different colors and every now and then we would see the occasional animal.  We saw armadillos and pink flamingos!  There was a large turkey type of bird we almost hit, it was flapping as hard as it could, but it was at a stand still in the wind and we barely missed it.  After lunch we started seeing guanacos.  They looked like short haired llamas, which is what I thought they were at first, but I saw a sign later that told me different.   

For lunch we stopped in Tres Cerros.  It is actually a dot on the map and there is a sign on the road announcing it as a town/  All it is, is a gas station with a hotel attached and a separate small police building.  We stopped and got gas before going in and getting some food.  The gas station attendant was a riot.  The bike is popular everywhere we go, but this guy went on and on and even asked us to buy him a coke.  We had a large Flanta as our beverage and only drank half so we gave the rest to him. 

We arrived in Comandante Luis Piedrabuena and stopped at the first hotel we saw on the side of the highway.  It is brand new, so new that they are still doing construction in areas.  By the looks of it I wondered if we were the first people to stay here.  The rooms are nice, but the sound of the wind is strong through the window and that was something I was hoping to get rid of for the evening, but I might as well get used to it since the wind and I will be together for many days to come. 

Day 11 –Piedrabuena,to El Calafate, 182 miles

Clara is still recovering so I’ll take over the laptop duties tonight.  Yesterday we thought we saw all the evil, wicked wind Mother Nature could throw at us.  We were wrong.  Today, she threw everything she had left at us.

We headed south down the pavement about 25 miles with the same evil wind we faced yesterday.  Then we turned west right into the wind for 120 miles of dirt and gravel road.  On a normal day with normal wind I would cruise down this road on my 520 EXC or a XR650R at over 100 mph and not think anything of it.  I would be up on the pegs with the throttle pinned and smiling ear to ear.  This was not a normal day.

Riding two up on the overloaded KLR meant I had to go slower to keep from bottoming out the suspension harshly and losing my passenger.  That meant plowing through the lose gravel and sand rather than getting on top of it where you can let ‘er rip.

Furthermore, the wind was so extreme the highest speed I was ever able to reach was 40 mph.  And that was only once.  For the most part, we ran into a headwind but this thing was anything but predictable or constant.  We were continuously thrown from one side of the road to the other and back again dozens of times within any given few seconds.

I have experienced some extreme winds in my 40 plus years of riding but never have I experienced anything like what we faced today.  Hell, I’ve never even heard of anything like what we faced today.

This morning we watched some footage from a riot the previous night in Buenos Aires.  A huge mob got out of control and were destroying property and setting fires.  A small group of police officers were present trying to protect a few individuals.  Clara wanted to know why they weren’t doing anything about the attackers.  I told her the police were way outnumbered and would only get hurt or die if they tried to go on the offensive against the huge mob.  Their task, until reinforcements arrived, was to contain and attempt to minimize damage.

Today, I felt like those heavily outnumbered police officers.  I was facing an enemy that was way more powerful than I.  I had no control.  At best I could try to contain and influence.  Meaning I was simply trying to keep the bike upright and on the road.  Once and a while I felt like I might be getting the upper hand and find a route where I had some control and then I would be slammed back into the reality that I wasn’t in control. 

About the time I would get in a track with little gravel or sand the wind would whip us across the entire road and several tracks of deep gravel and sand.  We were doing tank slappers while being lifted through the air.  I didn’t know what end was going to cause a crash; either the edge of the hard tires slipping on the marbles or the wind tipping over the top of the bike.  One time we were blown completely off the road.  I gracefully rode the bike down into a ditch and back onto the road without missing a beat.  A little later we were thrown off the road again and it was far less graceful.  However, we made it back onto the road without falling.  It was awesome and I was having fun.  For a while.

After about two hours of relentless fighting, slipping, sliding and barely hanging on I was beat.  I’ve ridden some mean, nasty endures and haven’t been as tired as I was just trying to get down this gravel road.  We stopped for a break.  We couldn’t stand up on our own so we made the break short.

We got back on the bike and things got even worse.  I went into the first mild turn hugging the inside line and got thrown all the way across the road.  I pushed with all my weight and might and got the bike leaned over far enough that the pegs were in the dirt and we barely stayed on the road.  And we were going only 5 mph!  It was wearing me out just to keep the bike from going off the road.  I don’t know why I tried so hard.  In the next ten miles we were thrown completely off the road more than a dozen times.  Every time I thought we were going down.  Only through shear will was I able to keep the bike upright.

There were so many times we were nearly stopped and had to throw the bike into the deepest lean just to stay on the road.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  Sometimes when we got thrown off the road I had to battle to come to a complete stop and turn the bike directly into the wind to get back on the road.  Then I would have to turn to head the direction of the road and try as hard as possible to stay on it.  Sometimes it took several attempts to get going again.  I think it would have been easier to ride through a hurricane or a tornado.  I don’t know what the wind forces were but it takes a lot of power to move 800 pounds of bike, gear and riders around like a feather in a storm.

By the time it dawned on me we shouldn’t be out there we were over half way.  There was no place to stop.  If we got off the bike we likely would have been blown in three separate directions and been hopeless.  At least together, we had 800 pounds of mass and the power of the motor working for us.  It was scary as hell but we kept going.

My other concern was fuel.  I had calculated about 180 miles to our destination so I wasn’t concerned initially since the KLR will go 200-225 miles before going on reserve.  However, with all the head wind, slow speeds and high rpm I knew we wouldn’t get much fuel mileage.  I was right.  At 158 miles the KLR coughed and died.  I quickly turned the petcock to reserve and continued on.  I knew I had a good 20 miles worth of fuel which was about the distance to the next town but that was without a head wind.  “Here we go again,” I thought to myself.

We finally got to the foothills where the wind settled a bit.  We also hit some pavement for the last 20 miles into town.  I pulled into the nearest gas station to fill up.  There were six bikes parked out of the wind.  The riders ran out to talk to me.  “Where did you come from?”  “How bad was the wind?”  It turns out these guys were riders that lived a few hours north of where we were at and were trying to get home but were afraid to go out in the extreme wind.  They said they had never seen wind like this before.  I told them a few stories and they quickly made preparations to get a hotel room and wait to see if things get better tomorrow.  They couldn’t believe we made it from where we started, not to mention we were two up.

No wonder we saw only four vehicles on 120 miles of dirt road.  And at least two of them were local ranchers.  We hadn’t seen a motorcycle on dirt or pavement all day.  I guess if we knew enough Spanish to hear the forecast we wouldn’t have left our hotel room.  I had a hard time understanding how an average motorcycle rider could have survived today.  I was glad to hear that what we went through was not normal.  I would never knowingly do it again two up.  However, by myself on a real dirt bike… I say, “Bring it!”

Riding the last few miles into El Calafate made all the misery go away.  Once again, we were staring at beautiful, huge, snow capped mountains and lakes.  El Calafate is another resort town in the middle of no where.  It sits on Logo Argentina and is the embarking point for trips to multiple glaciers including the famous Puerto Moreno Glacier we will visit tomorrow.  There is one hotel further up the road that is very close to the glaciers but at $500 a night we decided, like most, to stay in El Calafate.  Not that things were much cheaper.  The first two places we checked on were over $250 a night.  Wow!  This place is nice but not that nice.  After the day I put Clara through I wanted to find a nicer than average hotel but nothing outrageous.  We found a four star hotel off the beaten path.  They started at over $200 a night but were in the mood to deal.  Just before I left they offered me $120 a night including breakfast for two and usage of the spa.  They also have wireless Internet.  I accepted.  Now it is time to unwind with a bottle of wine and a massage.  Already, I’m starting to think, “What wind?”

Day 12 – To Moreno Glacier and back, 100 miles

We got up in time to get breakfast in the hotel lobby.  To our amazement their were actually eggs and dad had a great start to the day.  It was nice to have a breakfast that was more than hard bread and coffee to get our day started.  Once done, we got dressed in our warm clothes and headed west with all the tour buses to the Moreno glacier.  It started to sprinkle on us about half way there of the 80 kilometers it took to get there.  The rain and thick fog lasted all day, but it added to the affect and was beautiful.  It was hard to stay all day though due to us being wet and cold.  It would have also been nice to see the glacier in the sunlight.

When we arrived we walked around a huge walkway that showed many different views of the glacier.  It is huge.  This was the first time that I have ever seen a glacier and it was quite spectacular.  We got most of our pictures on the walkway and while we were there the glacier made lots of noise and there were a few small pieces that broke off, but nothing big enough to write home about.  Every time the glacier would crack or move everyone in the area would freeze and start searching for the big event, it was more entertaining to watch the people than the glacier.

After walking around we drove down to the docks and caught a boat with a bunch of tourists that had just gotten off a bus from town.  It was an hour ride to as we went back and fourth on one side of the glacier.  We went around all different sizes of ice bergs; luckily we weren’t on any luxury cruise lines.  The best part of the trip was the color of the water.  It was a light teal color and I could look at it for hours.  I have never seen water that color and it was beautiful.  The boat ride was cold, but worth it.  It was great getting so close up to the glacier.

We saw several motorcyclists today.  The wind was just normal today so I guess everyone got back on their bikes.  We saw mostly Europeans who had shipped their bikes to Argentina.  That seems to be very popular.  We talked to a couple of guys from Holland who looked worse for the wear.  They had been riding around Argentina for several weeks.  We’ve been on the bike much longer.  I thought to myself, I hope we don’t look that bad!  Maybe we do and we just don’t know it.

The wet and cold was starting to wear on both of us so after the boat we headed back to the hotel, cleaned up and went to lunch.  After lunch we walked around town and experienced another neat town in Argentina.  We spent the rest of the day lounging around, dad worked on the bike and the website and we prepared for a long day tomorrow.

Day 13 – Calafate to Punta Arenas, Chile, 375 miles

We enjoyed a very nice scenic day crossing the Patagonia steep.  In recent days we experienced so much extreme wind that our total focus was on survival.  Today the winds returned to normal.  That meant steep lean angles, adapting to abrupt changes in the force and direction of the wind and constant whip lashing.  However, compared to the previous few days this almost seemed calm.  To make matters even better, for much of the morning we had a tail wind which effortlessly pushed us down the highway at higher speeds with reduced wind noise.  We were able to pay attention to the vast countryside and the animals.  As we headed further south the flat terrain gave way to rolling hills and an increase in the number of animals we saw.

One of the surprises today was the number of auto race tracks we saw.  We saw two road race courses in Argentina and two more in Chile.  Two were paved and one was dirt.  We couldn’t see the surface of the fourth track.  It struck me as odd that we have seen only a few race tracks this entire adventure and we see four in one day out in the middle of no where.  Go figure.

Before we knew it we had knocked down 200 miles.  We stopped for gas and lunch before heading for the border.  Chile and Argentina have long had border squabbles.  One of the side affects is that Tierra del Fuego is an island with sections belonging to both countries.  You cannot drive to any part of the island without having to drive through the other part.  Anyway you slice it you have more border crossings than you should.  We decided to cross the border and head south as far as we could in Chile and save Tierra del Fuego for another day.  That took us to Punta Arenas, a large shipping town of 150,000 residents and growing as a tourist stop on the way to Patagonia and Antarctic adventures.  The town is also known for having the southern most McDonald’s in the world.

The border crossing was straight forward.  Again, no hassles.  You still have to do the paperwork and go through the steps but nobody is intentionally trying to drag things out or take any money.  We took five to ten minutes at each of the country stops.  I found it interesting that some of the best roads and signage is at and near the borders.  It is as though each country is trying to out do the other.  Chile gets the nod for the best highway paint.

Click here to read about our adventures in Chile, Tierra del Feugo and back into Argentina

Argentina, Part II - following Tierra del Fuego

Day 17 – Piedra Buena to Trelew, 586 miles

Just as the hotel and the room, the breakfast was the same, but this time it was served to us.  We watched the news while we ate our bread and drank our hot tea.  We then slowly headed out to the bike where we were quite the popular subjects.  There was an old man that was trying to take our picture without us noticing.  At one point he held up his camera to take a picture and dad and I both smiled.  He waved us off like he wasn’t doing anything, but took the picture anyway.  He took another while we were driving away. 

Dad filled the bike with gas and bought a big tub of grease.  He caked it on the chain and sprockets to try and reduce the wear.  He said we should be finished with dirt so now is the time to cake this stuff on.  Every time we stopped for gas he caked more of it on.  I’ve also noticed that he is now much gentler with the throttle, easing the speed up or down to get through the speeds where there is a big vibration.  I guess he is concerned about the sprocket making it to Buenos Aires.

We headed north over familiar terrain, but luckily it wasn’t near as windy.  Instead we traded being sand blasted to being power washed.  It started to rain on us not long after we left town and it lasted for a couple of hours.  A cold, light and heavy mix that wasn’t welcome, but the power wash we got every time a semi would pass in the opposite direction had the bike looking pretty nice by the time we stopped for gas.  Usually the rain mixes with the layers of dirt and just creates mud, but we were in the rain long enough that it actually cleaned the bike somewhat.

We rode for 180 miles without stopping.  We stopped at the same place for gas in Tres Cerros that we had on the way south but our fan from last time wasn’t there.  We went inside and had a cup of hot chocolate to warm up.   It helped, but then we had to go outside.

Again, we rode straight up to Comodoro Rivadavia, another 155 miles.  The really nasty wind we experienced earlier in this area returned.  It was another couple of hours of leaning over far enough to touch the ground, jerking all around to keep the bike straight, trying to keep the helmet from pushing through your skull.  The only difference was this time the wind came from our left to right so every time we passed an oncoming truck we would get slapped into a violent whiplash.  However, we never got thrown off the road this time.  There was one time I thought we were going on another unplanned off-road excursion but dad saved it just as we were starting to kick up some dust on the side of the road.

We stopped in town for gas and tried to find a place to eat, but we traveled for so long that we lost track of time and it was past lunch time.  Unbelievably it was 4:00pm.  Lunch usually ends at 3:00pm so we headed down the road further.  After lunch here it is usually siesta time or nap time.  During this time most business close down for a few hours and people are harder to find.  Today I noticed that there were very few semi trucks on the road.  At one point we came around a corner and in the pull off was about 8 semi trucks.  All lined up for a nap.  It was at about that time I was thinking a nap sounded really good.

Our plan was to go to the next town and stay there, but the next town and the town after that we dots on the map.  All they consisted of were gas stations.  Unable to stay anywhere we got gas at one of the stops and rode all the way to Trelew, giving us the longest day we have had so far at nearly 600 miles.  We had a really long day yesterday and then beat that today, so the long days are starting to wear on us.  Our butts got sore sooner and we became more restless the later it got.  We had left this morning about 9:00 and we didn’t get into Trelew until about 9:00pm.  With only three stops for gas, one break on the side of the road, and no lunch, I was pretty cranky by the time we were getting to the hotel.  Poor dad was trying to give me options on where to eat and I didn’t really care where we ate as long as they had food and I think that I made that a little too clear.  We found a nice restaurant on one of the main streets downtown and had a great dinner. 

We are now more than half way, over 1000 miles, to Buenos Aires from Ushuaia and we did that in only two days.  I am starting to agree with all the other riders that we run into.  They can’t believe we are traveling so many miles so quickly.  Maybe we really are crazy.

Day 18 – Trelew to Bahia Blanca, 492 miles

Today was a beautiful day weather wise.  It was nice and sunny all day and it started to get windy later in the morning.  The scenery wasn’t much to look at, but it got much prettier as the day went on. 

After we stopped for lunch we started driving through wheat and cow farms.  It looked just like Kansas for awhile.  The Combines were working hard harvesting the wheat and there were a lot of trucks full of wheat driving up and down the roads towards the nearest elevator. 

We stopped for gas at another gas station in the middle of no where just like yesterday and there we saw a couple of odd looking cars.  Throughout our entire trip we have seen vehicles that aren’t seen in the US, but the two that I took pictures of were quite different than anything I have ever seen.

We are staying in Bahia Blanca, it seems like it is a city in the middle of nowhere.  We are less than 700km from Buenos Aires so we will be arriving there tomorrow.  It is a good thing because the bike chain and sprockets probably doesn’t have any more than that left. 

Day 19 – Bahia Blanca to Buenos Aires, 436 miles

For most of the way today we rode through farmland again.  It wasn’t until we reached the suburbs of Buenos Aires that we were out of the wheat and corn fields.  With farmland comes the nice people who wave in every car that passes, but also the slow farm machinery that slugs down the road.  It seems as though the thing to do here is rent out help.  There are men who sleep in camper trailers on the side of the road and a group of them own a number of different farm equipment.  These men and their equipment drive from farm to farm pulling in the crops.  I’ve never seen so much farm equipment in one day.

We had a late breakfast so we waited as long as we could for lunch.  We ended up stopping around 2:00pm and shared a good plate of ribs.  The TV was on and there was some kind of riot going on in Buenos Aires.  We asked the waitress what was happening, but she didn’t speak English.  Dad told her that we were headed that way and all of sudden she looked very concerned.  We saw her walk over to a bunch of people, they began talking and then they all gathered around the TV.  Eventually a man came over to talk to us and he spoke perfect English.  He is from Argentina, but his mom is English and he said that they spoke English at home.  What a small world.  We talked for awhile and he said that there was a group of people invading a lawyer’s office and that it was nothing to worry about.  So we didn’t and headed down the road. 

It started to become obvious that we approaching the big city when there were more rules and regulations.  For the first time this trip Dad was told to get off the bike before putting gas in it.  He wasn’t real happy, but rules are rules.  The other was the traffic.  For a majority of the day we were on a two lane highway and the traffic was horrible due to the fact that there were so many different people going so many different speeds.  People were getting impatient and passing at poor times, etc.  There were at least two times that we were pushed onto the shoulder because a semi was passing another semi and they just happened to be in our lane when we were coming.  They were bigger than us and it didn’t appear to bother them because we were just a motorcycle.  Dad was on the outer edge of the road and we probably had two inches between us and the speeding semi coming at us.

Weather wise, it was a beautiful day.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the temperature was nice all day.  It was hot when we stopped but as long as were we moving it was pleasantly cool.

Less than 100km from Buenos Aires we riding down the road and were passed by a couple on a bigger bike.  We have seen lots of bikes going south toward Ushuaia, but this was the first one that we have seen going north.  We waived and honked and down the road they went.  We stopped a little while later at a gas station to get a cold drink.  We didn’t realize it at the moment, but that same couple was there getting gas.  It turned out that they were from a suburb of Buenos Aires and they were coming back from a trip to Bariloche.  They were very nice.  It turns out he is the editor for a motorcycle magazine.  By the end of our visit we had a copy of one of his magazines and him and dad had traded shirts.  When we were saying our goodbyes the guy took his shirt off and gave it to dad because it had his company logo on it.  Dad had on his Colorado 500 jersey so he took it off and gave it to the editor in response.  I was so into what was going on that I forgot to take pictures, but it quite the sight in front of the gas station.  The people here are just so friendly.

When we started to reach the big city we stayed on Highway 3, which we had been on since we left Ushuaia.  On our map this highway looks as though it goes all the way into Buenos Aires.  Not knowing where to go, it sounded like a good idea.  We went under a four land freeway and wondered if that would be better, but when there was no way to get on it, we continued on Highway 3.  It was still a two lane road, but it was moving fast so we had no complaints.  As we got closer the air was so thick with dirt and some kind of thick debris it was hard to breathe.  I thought that it was just a mixture of smog and dirt being flung up from construction.  As we got more into the residential areas we came to some road construction and traffic really started to build up.  All of a sudden we came to a police road block.  Up ahead there was a huge group of people and we could see bon fires on the road not far ahead.  We had no idea what was going on, we were told to turn around and then make a couple of right turns.  Yeah right, we just knew that we were going to get lost.  Luckily there was a guy also on a motorcycle and he was told to turn around too.  He waved us down and said to follow him.  We did.  All the roads that were heading north were packed full of mud and traffic.  We thought there was no way we would be able to get through.  Of course, it was also getting dark.  We finally came to a paved road, and traffic was at a dead stop.  The guy we were following was on a much smaller bike and he just weaved in and out of cars until we couldn’t see him anymore.  There were two more motorcycles sitting at the end of the line trying to decide what to do.  They told us not to go that way, but there wasn’t any other clear way to go.  So we inched down the crowded, dirty, smoggy road while thousands of people started filling the streets on foot.  We weaved in and out of cars the best we could, but most of the time we had no choice but to wait in line.  The traffic eventually routed back onto the highway that we were on previously around the demonstration area. There was still heavy construction and we were going up and down the new and the old highway trying to get through.  As it was getting darker it was harder and harder to see through the stuff floating in the air.  We still don’t know what was in the air, but my throat and eyes are killing me now. So it probably wasn’t the best stuff to be breathing in.  All of a sudden we came to another road block and yet another bon fire was up ahead.  They were burning tires and the black smoke was horrible.  We made another detour, but this time there wasn’t as much traffic, so we followed some cars, but we were pretty much on our own trying to find a way around the mess on very rough, dark dirt roads.  We headed north until we could no longer see the flames of the fire and then headed back towards the highway.  We thought it was a good decision when we found a line of cars headed in the same direction.  They weren’t moving and there were no cars headed in the opposite direction so we passed them all.  We were right behind a bus which seemed to be the last vehicle we needed to pass when a car started coming the other way and was yelling at people to turn around.  He stopped when he saw us and started yelling at us in a frantic sort of way.  We sat there for a minute because we didn’t understand what he was saying.  It was then that a guy in the street picked up a rock about the size of my helmet and threw it through the windshield of the bus in front of us.  There was a huge crunching noise with the sound of glass shattering.  The people in the bus all jumped up and were trying to find a way out as dad was hurriedly trying to turn around with me yelling, “Oh my god, go, go”.  It was hard to turn around fast, but we got away just as more people were running up to the bus and throwing rocks or whatever else they could find.  There were a lot of streets blocked off by huge tree branches, but we eventually found a way back to the highway beyond all the road blocks.  We got out of there as fast as we could and drove down until we felt like we were in a better part of town and stopped at a McDonalds for a needed break, familiarity and some dinner.

We were uptight and paranoid so we brought in our helmets and the tank bag.  I sat at a table with a good view of the bike while dad ordered us some food.  While he was in line he started talking to a father and son behind him.  The kid had a racing shirt on.  Dad asked him what he raced and he said karts.  Dad asked if he raced rotax’s.  He and his dad both looked shocked that anyone would know much about karts, much less about engines.  It turns out that the son races the Jr. Rotax kart series here and had just won the championship.  They were amazed to find out that I also raced and had a brother the same age of the kid who also raced the Jr. Rotax series.  They got there food and sat next to us we talked about racing.  His dad races cars and had large photos with him.  He and dad talked about how expensive racing is but how much the kids seem to get out of it.  They told us where the nearest hotel was, finished eating and left early heading for a party to celebrate the recent victory. 

We left McDonalds and headed in the direction of the hotel.  We saw it from the highway, but it was impossible to get to.  When we stopped at a red light we asked a police officer if there was a hotel nearby and he responded with a quick, “No”, pointed to the north and then drove away.  It wasn’t much help, but we did as he instructed and headed north.  We spotted a nice looking hotel further down the road.  We pulled off and as we approached it seemed a little too expensive, but at this point we were desperate.  We pulled into the garage because oddly there wasn’t a front door.  When we pulled in the basement area was full of private garages and there was a man standing at the entrance.  When we pulled in the professionally dressed man came up to us and showed us the prices for the different types of rooms.  They were high but what were we to do.  Dad asked about a room with two beds and the guy got a very confused look on his face.  Dad explained that I was his daughter and the man looked stunned and very quickly told us no and showed us the way out.  It turns out that it was a fancy no tell hotel.  Talk about first class rent by the hour rooms.  So we drove on down the highway until we finally saw downtown.  It is more like downtowns.  The downtown of Buenos Aires is about the size of ten Denvers.  It is huge.  We rode on with extremely sore butts trying to find a place to exit for a hotel, but we had no idea what to do.  Eventually the highway curved right into the central area we were able to see some hotels.  We stopped at the first one but it was full.  Now after looking for more than an hour for a hotel we are clean, showered, and content.  We turned on the news to see if we could learn anything about what was going on, but we didn’t learn much.  The news just made us more worried when they were showing pictures from other violence in el centro, where we are.  Dad also asked the man at the front desk, but he said that he had been working all day and hadn’t heard anything.  So we still don’t know what is going on, but hopefully we will learn something tomorrow or at least how to avoid the wrong places. 

Wow, what a day.  I was unable to get any pictures of the city, but I am sure that I will be able to do that tomorrow.  Hopefully it will be a less exciting day.

Day 20 – Running errands and site seeing around Buenos Aires, 25 miles

Today we had a usual day at any hotel.  We woke and had an included breakfast.  It was one of my favorites because they had wonderful watermelon, my favorite.  Dad probably liked it too because they had eggs, something you don’t often see in Argentina.  We checked out of the hotel and weaved our way into the heavy Buenos Aires traffic.  We had loose directions and a hand drawn map, but in the heavy traffic, multiple rail lines and one way streets, and about 10 different ways to go we surely got lost.  We were slowly finding our way around, but we took the wrong exit off the freeway and ended up going the wrong direction.  The logical thing to do would be to make a U-turn.  Well, we soon learned that the local police don’t like that.  We were pulled over by three officers.  Dad played the dumb, no Spanish speaking tourist role and it was working for a while.  They tried to talk about infractions but dad kept trying to get directions.  He pulled out the map and they started trying to help us find our way.  Still, the sergeant in control couldn’t let go of the infraction and how dangerous it was.  Another officer who spoke a little English came over.  Soon he and dad were best friends.  He told the others about our journey.  Now three of the officers wanted to let us go and help us find our way.  The sergeant remained adamant about writing a ticket.  We sat back and watched the four of them argue for quite a while.  We were also missing our license plate.  It either fell off or was stolen somewhere in Tierra del Fuego so that was also an issue.  The sergeant was saying something about confiscation because there was no identification.  After the long and heated discussion they let us off with a warning.  Wow, we barely made it out of that one!  We didn’t even have to pay them and that right there is purely amazing.  The sergeant had his ticket book out and still didn’t appear to be happy, but he was obviously influenced by the other three.  We are glad the other three were so intrigued by our story.
                                                                                          
The cops also got us going in the right direction as we headed over to Dakar Motos, the shop of Javier and Sandra.  They are widely known by overland travelers as great people and for having a place to stay and get work done.  Javier has a reputation as a great mechanic who can fix anything.  They also offer motorcycle storage.  Dad wanted to be able to store the bike somewhere safe until he can return and get the bike back to the U.S.

As expected, the place was full of other travelers.  We met a great couple from the UK, Greg and Alexis.  They are traveling around the world in a Land Rover and have been on the road for two years already.  You can learn about them on their website, www.beastlyadventure.com.  I am sure that you will have a great time getting to know them as we have.  There was also a gentleman from France, one from Germany and some locals hanging around.  We spent the day talking, organizing the bike, getting it washed and stored away in Javier’s garage and trying to get bus tickets to Izguza Falls.  It was a full and yet relaxing day. 

Our plan was to take the night bus up to the falls which is a 12 hour drive, spend a day or two there and then take the night bus back.  It sounded like a good plan and probably would be if we would have gotten here about a month earlier.  All the buses for about six different bus companies were completely booked until after the New Year.  One guy tried not to laugh at us when we asked not only for this week, but tonight.  So we talked about it and dad thought that maybe we could just go somewhere else.  No good.  The same humorous fellow said that all their buses to all locations are completely booked.  Amazing.  Note to self, the week before Christmas is not the time to be traveling around Buenos Aires. 

So we took the city train back to Dakar Motos.  Dad repacked the bike and our bags into what stays and what goes home whiling chatting with the others.  The house was packed full for the night, but Javier gave us a recommendation for a hotel at a good price not far away.  So here we are in small hotel off the beaten path and they serve some of the best Spanish meatballs I have ever had.  We also had mashed potatoes for the first time since leaving.  It was great.  Hopefully breakfast is as good as dinner was.

Since our three day trip didn’t work out we are not sure what we will do with our week, but stay tuned and we will let you know.

Days 21-24

We have spent the past few days hanging out with friends at Dakar Motos.  Since we were unable to take our trip to the falls we started to think about places we would like to go around Buenos Aires.  Both of us agreed that seeing tango dancers in the street would be a lot of fun.  Unfortunately I started to get very sick.  I started feeling a scratchy throat the day before we arrived in Buenos Aires, but I just figured it was the dry air and it was so hot I had my visor up, so the wind wasn’t any help either.  The first night in Buenos Aires I was fine, but I started to get a runny nose as well.  The second night I was up most of the night coughing and just feeling like crap.  The next day we rested around the shop and I was able to take a nap.  As the day progressed my illness progressed too, I drank about 4 cups of hot tea, but my throat was just getting worse and worse.  Dad and I had talked about going to a movie the night before, but we were too tired so we decided to go the next night instead.  Even though I wasn’t feeling good, I figured that all I would be doing is sitting and that wouldn’t be too hard.  We went to the 7:30 showing of James Bond, it was in English with Spanish subtitles, so that was quite a change.  The theatre was in a huge building that contained an amusement park and an Imax theatre.  It was hard to believe that just down the road was an even larger movie theatre.  We ordered popcorn and drinks at the concession stand, but when the girl asked us something about popcorn we couldn’t understand her.  We figured it was butter and salt, but they actually had two types of popcorn.  So instead of butter and salt we received popcorn with a candy coating.  I had a little bit, but that and a sandwich were all I ate all day.  I was losing my appetite and I was starting to get a fever.  James Bond was great as usual and easy on the eyes as Bond is supposed to be.  I made it through the movie, but I was feeling horrible by the end.  Getting home was hard and I was constantly going from freezing cold to burning up hot.  My face was red and my skin was hot.  It was obvious that I was running a fever. 

There was a McDonalds down stairs so dad got some dinner and I got some much needed water and then we headed outside to get a taxi.  There was sign on the sidewalk that said taxi pickup, but obviously no one paid attention to that.  The problem we had is that most of the taxis here do not have marked cars.  So dad was starting to wave at every pair of headlights he saw.  Dad stood and I sat for about 20 minutes or more waiting for a taxi.  We finally got one, one that we wish we wouldn’t have.  We showed him the directions and he started going in the right direction, but soon he turned and started going the wrong direction.  Dad pointed back and told him that it was the wrong way, but the driver started to argue with dad about where we were going.  I couldn’t believe it, we were the ones going there, just because we couldn’t speak very good Spanish does not mean that we don’t know where we are going.  The driver stopped in the middle of the road and pointed to the numbers on the sign.  So then they started to argue about the street numbers and where we were supposed to be. I think that the driver was blind because he couldn’t read numbers, which made me start to worry if he should really be driving. Finally after cursing us in Spanish he started making the turns that we told him to.  Right when we were about to get to our street he started telling us that we were wrong again.  Unbelievable.  We saw our street, but he said it was the wrong one, so dad had him stop the car and let us out.  I didn’t think that he was going to let us at first because he was so persistent on showing us the “right” place.  We walked two blocks and was finally back at Dakar Motos.  In the end he was probably just trying to take advantage of us by driving around and trying to make more money.

I felt like crap so I had a cup of medicine tea and went straight to bed.  I was hoping that after a rough night the night before and being sick that I would sleep good, but that didn’t happen.  I was up on and off through out the night coughing and sneezing.  I was sweating profusely, but we all figured that it was a good thing and I would get all that nasty stuff out of me.

The next morning on I woke up and took a nice cool shower.  I was still hot and sweaty and nothing was making feel better.  My spinal cord in the back of my neck was killing me.  It had started to hurt the day before, but that day it was hard to move and any type of movement just killed me.  I got worse and worse, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t move and I looked as white as a ghost.  It was at about that time that Sandra and Dad decided that I should see a doctor.  They were worried that I might have meningitis.  One of the guys that was visiting at that time had a girlfriend who is a doctor in one of the hospitals in the city.  He called her and told her about my symptoms, but she said there was nothing she could do on the phone.  We decided to go to the hospital.  We went to the closest one which was a public hospital.  We later found out that Argentina has private and public hospitals.  The private ones cost money and the public ones are free.  On the way there Sandra was telling us that the public hospitals usually are not the nicest, but she has been there and used them on several occasions.  We were wondering what it was really going to be like, but all the doctors study in the same place, so we were sure there would no problems. 

We arrived at the hospital and it was very nice.  Dad and Sandra checked us in and took a number.  There were quite a few people waiting and dad and I figured that it was going to be like the US when you go to the emergency room.  You have to wait for hours to get service and that is only if you have filled out an hour’s worth of paperwork.  We were so wrong, it was wonderful.  They called a few numbers and no one showed up so they called us in.  We were never asked to fill out paperwork and we had our own room.  I explained to the doctor my 20 different symptoms and she did the usual doctor stuff.  She said that my throat was extremely red and swollen and had typical flu symptoms.  I wasn’t running a fever so she sent us off with a prescription for amoxicillin and a pain killer for my neck.  We walked straight out the door while dad was looking around for a place to pay.  Sandra told him that it was literally a free hospital and there are no places to pay.  No lines, no hassles, no stressful paperwork, no insurance, no payments, and good service?  I could really get used to that.

We walked across the street to the pharmacy and we were able to get the two new prescriptions plus a refill for my inhaler for about $15 US.  You can’t beat that, that is less than most co-pays and that was for all three medications.  We then walked across the side street to wait for a taxi to take us back to our temporary home.  I sat down in the chair and started to feel kind of weird, but I didn’t think much of it because it was so hot out and I was already sick.  Dad got me a cup of water to take my medicine.  I took the two pills and the strange feeling I had just got worse.  I felt nauseas and light headed.  I remember saying, “Dad I don’t feel good” and then nothing.  I passed out.  Dad said that my body went straight, my eyes rolled back in my head and I was out.  That was about the time that Sandra ran across the street to the hospital for help.  I came back, but was only able to say a couple of words went out again.  I don’t remember what happened, but I do remember hearing dad’s voice in the distance.  When I finally came to everything was so blurry that I couldn’t see a thing.  Sandra was running around looking for some help, but no one was doing anything.  She finally gave up, came back and her and dad helped we walk across the street.  It was hard because I didn’t know what was going on, what had really happened, I couldn’t see very well and I was drenched in sweat and water from the cup I was holding that had spilled all over me.  As soon as we made it up the stairs I lost feeling in my legs.  Dad had to pick me up and carry me to down the hall, it was at about this time that people were getting the hint and someone was bringing a wheelchair.  They took me to the exam room and started asking me questions, pulled blood, started an IV and tested me for meningitis.  There were about 10 people in the room, so it was very confusing, but all I could think about was how damn bright the sun coming in the window was.  Of course, when I said something all I got was, “we don’t have curtains”.  So the hospital was almost perfect. 

Dad said he was impressed that multiple doctors came and saw me and were very comfortable collaborating with each other.  The doctors seem to work together more as a team than I am used to seeing back home.

I tested negative for meningitis, which is the good news, but I was severely dehydrated.  I went through three bags of Saline and I only had to use the bathroom once at the end of my stay.  In the past when I have had an IV I am asking to pee about half way through the first bag.  They kept us in the hospital until midnight so I could be under observation.  I also had a CT scan which showed nothing as well.  With all the new fluids the severe headache that I had for the previous two days was gone, but the pain in my neck was still there.  The doctors said the fainting spells were probably due to a temporary lack of oxygen in the brain that resulted from a combination of the virus, fever, being dehydrated and heat stroke.  We spent the rest of the next day taking medication and resting.  I started feeling better overall.  Dad started to get a soar throat, fever and the same symptoms but went back to the pharmacy and got another set of the same prescriptions.  Down here you don’t need a prescription to buy meds, you just ask for what you want and they give it to you.  The prescription is just a note by the doctor so that the pharmacist will get the correct medication.  Since everything was so cheap dad went ahead and bought all three medications.  Dad and I spent the next day taking lots of naps and talking with our friends.

I woke up the next day feeling tons better.  I still had a bad cough.  My sinuses were clearing up, my color was coming back and my voice was slowly starting to come back as well.  I had wonderful care from the people at Dakar motors.  The trip to the hospital would not have gone as smoothly as it did if Sandra was not with us.  Her translating saved a lot of time and stress and I owe her so much.  We had one last lunch with Javier and Sandra then we headed to the airport to fly home.

We arrived at the airport at 4:00 PM and had to wait two hours for the counter to open.  During this time we snacked on M&M’s, water and bought some last minute souvenirs from the newsstand.  Getting through security and customs was easy so we had dinner at a restaurant near our gate and waited to board.  We had quite the exciting week and we were unable to see parts of Buenos Aires that we wanted to, but that just gives us an excuse to come back at a different time.  We have had an amazing trip and an amazing experience with each other and in the many different countries.  It is said, ”Go East or West, but home is best.”  I guess that is true as we both looked forward to getting home for the holidays.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone.