Day 1 – 95 miles from the Border to La Paz

The most difficult part of crossing the border into Bolivia was finding the crossing.  We found one border crossing, but it had a locked gate across the road.  A lot of trucks were backed up.  We asked a cab driver for help and since we were on a motorcycle he told us just to drive around the gate.  We went down a dirt road and through a field and up a steep hill to get back on the pavement and ended up on the Bolivia side.  We are required to check out of the country that we are leaving or face serious consequences.  So we had to go back and find the real border to cross.  We went all the back through town and after we asked around found the way that we were supposed to go and it turned out to be really easy to get through.  The lady on the Bolivia side actually spoke English and it was the easiest border crossing that we have gone through so far.  And no money!  South America border crossings are so much better than Central America.

We stopped for a snack at a gas station before we got to La Paz.  It was a combination of farm land and desolate desert on the way to the big city, but we were surrounded by mountains.  It reminded me of South Park in Colorado.  No, not your favorite TV show.  It was so cold I was holding my head as close to my body as possible because the wind was blowing up my helmet. 

We followed the highway that we were on into what we thought was La Paz.  It was so crowded that we could barely make it through the streets.  I also didn’t feel safe.  It felt like it was going to be Mexico City all over again.  We were stopped at a red light and this guy walked behind us and hit the back of the bike really hard.  I was sure that we were about to get high jacked.  Even dad said later that he could tell people were standing on the sidewalk pricing up parts of the bike.  We couldn’t find any hotels and the people that we had talked to earlier said that there were hotels everywhere.  We went south, but ended up in the slums and stopped and asked some people where there was a nice hotel.  They pointed north.  We headed in that direction and went past the highway that we came in on and drove over a hill and WOW!  Talk about a city, and a view.  It looks more grand in scale than Mexico City.  We pulled off on the side of the road and looked down into the valley trying to see if there was a main route through the city.  Fortunatly, like Lima, the city has a major divided highway that goes through it making travel much easier.  We stayed on the highway and ended up driving into the heart of town.  There are some of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen here and the area that we are staying is very nice and I feel safe here.  It is good thing that we kept riding.

We are staying at this incredibly nice five star hotel in a modern area.  Outside is the divided highway with a very nice plaza running down the middle. Dad negotiated an amazing price because it is the off season.  Since neither one of us were eating much yet and we haven’t had any good old American food for a while, we walked down the street about a block and had dinner at Burger King.  Haha.  You know that I hate Burger King, but dad was craving an American burger.  Since he hasn’t eaten a whole meal worth of food in about three days I was happy to go wherever he wanted.  I haven’t eaten at a Burger King since I was in high school.  I ordered chicken strips and they were nasty, the menu was a little different than what we have in the U.S.  I did get BBQ sauce with them and it was so nice to taste BBQ sauce again, it was heaven and made the chicken taste somewhat decent.  I was thinking of things that I really miss about the U.S. during dinner, and when it comes to food and beverages, I really miss Dr. Pepper.  Dad enjoyed his burger but could eat only about half of it.

We walked back to the hotel and simply rested.  It was very nice.  Dad felt much better today but his fever started back up this evening.  An hour after he took his medication he felt better again.  He is getting better every day.  I’m glad.

Since this is a nice hotel, neither of us is 100 percent yet, we decided to stay here for two nights.  Tomorrow Dad is going to try to get some new brake pads made because there are no Kawasaki dealers on our route.  In fact, there are very few in all of South America.  Dad may also try to find some tires for the bike.

All in all this had been an awesome trip but we realize now we are running short on time and we won’t be able to go to all the places that we wanted to in Argentina and Chile.  We are going to look the maps over and in the next couple of days try to decide where we are going to go from here.

Day 2 – All day in La Paz

I’m back among the living!  It has not been a fun 48 hours or so.  I’m so glad Clara was here.  She was very helpful.  At times I think she was working on a contingency plan to get herself and a body back home.  I’ve had a whole day with no ill symptoms.

Today was a relaxing day in a big, beautiful city.  Just as we intended.  We slept in and had a typically good five start restaurant buffet breakfast but at about half the price you pay most places. 

Then I went on a mission to get some brake pads.  The concierge pointed me in the right direction.  I walked about a half mile and found a street that had one automotive repair and parts shop right after another.  I continued until I saw a “moto” shop.  It was a small shop and I was sure they wouldn’t have any brake pads, especially for a Kawasaki.  It didn’t matter.  As soon as I pulled out my worn down pads he knew what to do immediately.  He gave me the name and address of a friend of his that replates pads all the time.  A dollar cab fare got me to the shop. 

Again there wasn’t much need for words.  I handed the guy my pads.  He said come back later and get them.  I returned a couple hours later and had new pads.  It cost about $7.00 to get four pads done.

I returned to the bike and looked it over.  While I wasn’t overly excited about the feel of the Avon Distanzas they have been a solid performer.  The wear on these tires has been great.  I had planned to replace them in Lima but they had too much tread on them.  So I decided to try and see if I could get to La Paz.  They still have more tread on them then the used tires for sale in the moto shop I went to.  So I guess I’m going to run them into Argentina somewhere.  I changed the oil again, cleaned the air filter and made my first chain adjustment after more than seven thousand miles.  I’ll say it again, the KLR may not have the best suspension, brakes or latest technology but for the money you can’t beat them.  They are solid, reliable and have a great range.  Today I talked to a BMW GS owner who said he put 190 thousand miles on his KLR before he had to do any major engine work.

With the both of us feeling better and the bike ready to ride on we spent the rest of the day relaxing.  We walked the plaza, had lunch and did some window shopping.  Later we went to the top floor of our hotel and had a nice dinner with a great view of the city and surrounding mountains.  It was another great meal with a shockingly low cost.  We topped it off with another walk to a great ice cream shop. 

I like La Paz a lot.  It’s big, clean, modern, and has much variety.  The people we have met so far have been very nice.  Prices are very nice too.  There is a lot of busy activity like many Latin cities but it seems more controlled here.  However, it may be that we are starting to be more comfortable with all the surrounding chaos.

Day 3 – 150 miles from La Paz to Oruro

We spent a long morning at the hotel eating breakfast and looking over maps trying to decide where to go next.  There are so many opportunities that it is hard to decide which places we want to see the most.

We had a short ride to Oruro.  It took us about three hours and it was like driving through home for dad.  The terrain was much like the southwest of the US and he later said that he was craving tacos while driving through this area.  It was pretty desolate compared to other routes we have taken, but it had its own beauty that was hard to ignore. 

There is a huge salt flat located just west of us, mostly in Chili, but we saw signs of it as we neared Oruro.  The ground and especially the ditches were white and some filled with white piles of salt.

Oruro was a lot bigger than we anticipated, but still it was hard to find a hotel.  There has always been a siesta time in Latin America, but Oruro seems to take it a little more seriously than others.  Not only was it hard to find a hotel, but it was also hard to find an open restaurant.  After driving through town that was full packed with people we found a hotel with hot water and across the street was an internet café and a great restaurant.

After we were settled in at the hotel we walked to a barbeque restaurant across the street that was recommended to us by the lady at the front desk.  It was closed so we walked around the block looking for internet cafes to pass our time.  When got back they were open so we went in and had a great dinner.  The beef was prepared outside on a grill and then it was brought in on a cast iron grill over coals so it finished cooking right in front of us as we ate our sides of rice, French fries, and vegetables.  The steaks got better the longer they cooked and stayed hot.  We added a couple cervasas to the mix.  Dad was convinced that it was one of the best meals that he has had so far.  The entire dinner was less than $9.00 for both of us.

It was a great day and very relaxing.  We look forward to resting up and preparing for a long day tomorrow.

Day 4 – 404 miles from Oruro to ???

Today started off as a normal day, but before we knew it, it turned into one of the craziest days so far.  We ate breakfast in the restaurant in the top level of the hotel so while we ate we were able to look over part of the city.  We had a great time laughing at how different some things are in the United States compared to Bolivia.  Mostly the driving.  People don’t wait around here and they go where they please, and even though there are a lot of close calls and lots of honking, accidents are rare.  A train came down the main street while we were watching and it was funny to watch how people weren’t in a hurry to get out of the way.  They meandered across the tracks and acted like there wasn’t even a train, though the horn was so loud that it was hurting my ears up in the restaurant. 

We left Oruro and headed south.  The land was beautiful and we couldn’t have asked for a better riding day.  We passed by a lot of farmland and also a lot of barren areas that were covered with succulents.  To the west was the outer barrier of huge salt flats.  At times we rode along not far from where there were dirt roads going through the flats.  I’m sure Dad wishes he had a dirt bike and was wheeling down the straights and flat tracking it around the turns.  I imagine he already has the gears turning on how to get this done on a return visit.

It didn’t matter.  Dad got his fix on pavement today.  We rode a bit longer down the valley before heading into the foothills.  Dad was then in heaven.  We rode a hundred miles or so on a new, high quality road that twisted through the hills with lots of steep grades.  Since we were between 11 and 14 thousand feet dad was working the Kawasaki.  It was like a race course and dad was definitely in race mode.  Fortunately, there was nobody else on the road and we made the most of it.

The map shows most of the highway around Potosi and south as unpaved.  Without hitting any dirt, we stopped in Potosi for gas and lunch.  Lunch included the usual chicken, rice, French fries, and a coke.  It cost us $2.00 each.  It was interesting getting out of town, but we made it even though we had to make a lot of turns and even go around a road block that everyone had to stop at except for us.  Motorcycles seem to get special treatment here.

Since everything on the map for hundreds of miles south of Potosi are small towns and the road is supposed to be dirt, we decided to ride until it starts to get dark and stay at the next small town.  We passed a lot of towns because the pavement continued and continued.  For a while, we thought the entire route might be paved.  We were wrong.

A little over 300 miles into the ride the road turned to dirt.  However, it was a dirt road in decent condition.  The biggest problem we had was traffic.  We ride all day and see practically no one and we get to a dry dusty road and there are trucks everywhere.  I don’t know how dad could see anything.  We passed some oncoming trucks racing down the road and we would face a total blackout for several seconds.  These same trucks wouldn’t move out of the middle forcing us to the outer edge.  Great.  We’re on a dirt road close to the edge and we can’t see.  It didn’t seem to faze dad.  Too much desert racing in him I guess.

After 30 to 40 miles of dirt road and construction they started allowing us on parts of the paved highway they are still working on.  Every time we would get on this road we would think we could really make up some time and they throw us back onto a detour.  The problem with the detour routes was that they are relatively new compared to the old dirt road we were on.  These detours were even dustier with lots of sand and rocks.

I should watch what I complain about.  All around us was a looming storm.
Within a short time, we came upon an area that had just been poured on.  The road went from dusty to muddy and slippery.  Water was running down the road.  We went down one hill and the bike just started sliding sideways and freely.  Dad just let it go until he could find some traction and straighten it back out.  He didn’t say anything but I hugged him hard for keeping us upright.

A little further down the wet road it started to rain.  Dad pulled over.  I assumed to add heavier gear but he said he could tell that the rear tire was going flat.  We looked at the tire and sure enough it was losing the last of its air.  Dad found a wide spot in the road and started to remove the tire and it started to rain hard.  He had me get the cover out and try to make some sort of cover for us.  I used the bike cover and put one end over the windshield and the other over us, but it eventually turned out to be more of an inconvenience than anything else.  So wet we got, hail and all.

It is one thing to change a tire, but a completely different when trying to change a tire as it is pouring down rain and the bead won’t break.  Dad said it was tough to break because the tire he is using also servers as a tubeless tire that has to seal against the rim.  Whatever.  We tried using, rocks, bars, standing and jumping on the tire trying to get the bead to break.  It was ridiculous to say the least.  It was about the time that the rain was beginning to stop that dad had started to shove small rocks between the tire and the rim one by one working around the rim until the bead finally popped.  I pulled the tube out of the tire and while dad had the hard job of holding back the tire I felt around inside for anything sharp or something that might have caused the flat tire.  All I could find were pieces of rubber loose inside and then dad found the nail.  It had gone all the way into the tire, but now I have it on my jacket as a souvenir.  We put the new tube in and used the 12v adapter dad had installed before we left to plug in an air compressor to fill the new tube with air and just like that it was as good as new.  We celebrated thinking that the worst was over, the tire was fixed and the sun was shining.  If only we had known…

We went a little further down the road there was a detour off the main road.  The detour went right through the new river that all of the rain had caused.  It was running water, rocks and mud.  I got off so dad would have more control and I could take pictures.  Through this whole ordeal no one said anything to us.  Dad and the bike made it across and I slowly made my way.  I was just getting back on the bike when this guy started yelling from up the hill that we had to go back around and up onto the highway that the signs said were closed.  We didn’t pay much attention and started driving until a lady started yelling at us to do the same thing.  This is ridiculous.  So we actually did the river of mud crossing for a second time and it was another success.  We drove up to where people were pointing and  where the detour signs were and there was no way to get across.  I knew dad wasn’t going to take the bike back through the mud, I had no idea what we were going to do.  There were three huge piles of dirt that stood between us and the road.  The lady told me that the bike would fit between one of the piles and the hill, I told her that the bike wouldn’t fit and she argued with me that motorcycles fit through there all the time.  I then tried to explain to her that our motorcycle is a lot wider and there is no way that it was going to fit.  We thought about taking the bike over one of the hills, but the dirt might be too soft so we decided to go between.  I got a picture of dad going, but then he high centered and I pushed as hard I could and the bike finally made it to the highway. 

It was mostly smooth sailing the rest of the way to the next town except we still ran into those huge dirt hills.  Most of the ones that we came across had tire marks already through them and that helped.  The other ones we had to detour on a dirt road, but we made it to a town as it was getting dark.  We don’t know the name of the town and didn’t see a hotel.  We asked around and they said there was a hotel where our bike is,  We looked at them like they were silly.  Then a lady opened a narrow door and said she had room.  The door opened to a long corridor with rooms on one side.  Amazing.  We would have never known if we hadn’t asked.  They allowed us to park the bike in their restaurant area.  We got our dirty outer gear off and headed for dinner.

We forgot to stop at a bank in Potosi.  Dad had $6.25 in Bolivian money but plenty of U.S. money.  The problem is most small villages don’t want anything to do with U.S. money.  We weren’t sure what was going to happen.  Fortunately, the room cost only $1.25.  Dinner was $1.75 for both of us including a two liter bottle of water.  The Internet Café was $1.50.  So we still had change.  McDonald’s can’t beat that.

It was a long and interesting day.  It ended with a hot meal and a bed.  We went to sleep happy.

Day 5 – 105 miles to the border, 341 miles to Salta, Argentina

Neither one of us got a good night’s sleep on the straw beds.  The morning was worse due to some pet bird that was in the courtyard of the hotel.  In and out of sleep I thought that it was a kid running up and down the sidewalk.  Dad thought it was a sick chicken.  We were both wrong.  It was a damn bird.  The bird had learned to imitate people and most of the morning was yelling something that sounded like, “Monica get up”.  It is funny now looking back, but this morning I was about to strangle that bird. 

We got ready and got the bike out of the restaurant that it was being stored in and headed down the road without breakfast.  None of the locals were cooking so we decided to head down the road.

All the way from the town that we left to the border it was dirt road, for more than a hundred miles.  After a total of nearly two hundred miles of dirt roads riddled with washboard, seeing pavement in Argentina was heaven sent, especially for my back.  It was like riding through the deserts of southwest U.S. all day.  Dad said this morning’s ride reminded him of the Baja peninsula except that we were ten thousand feet higher so we had cooler temperatures.  There were hills in the distance and we were surrounded by saguaro cactus and mesquite trees.  Dad was amazed to see so much cactus at 12,000 feet elevation.

We stopped for our breakfast in Tupiza.  There was not a single restaurant in that entire town so we stopped at a convenience store and had toast, cookies and flavored milk.  Talk about a breakfast of champions.  After that it was back on the road all the way to Argentina. 

After breakfast we were driving over a bridge and down by the river was a huge truck and bus wash.  There were actually ramps where the trucks/buses could drive up onto and then they would be washed by power washers that had hoses coming up from the river and the ramps also had a space underneath in case work needed to be done. It was ingenuous and really cool to see. 

We finally made it to the border in Villazon where it was a cinch to get across, but a completely different story getting into Argentina.

To read about our experiences in Argentina click here.