UPDATE 8 - SANTIAGO 08 JUN 06

29 May - 08 Jun 06
Border to Border. Paraguay to Chile

29 May 06 (Mon). We rode from Asuncion Paraguay via Risistencia on Ruta 11 then to Presidencia Roque Saenz Pena on Ruta 16, arriving quite early in the afternoon to give us enough time to complete the web update yesterday.

We continued along Ruta 16 to Salta, a 640 kms ride and according to the map its laser straight for 550 kms of that! And it was, pretty much straight line riding with little deviation, just a change in riding distractions, we had to dodge old Macdonald’s farm yard; you name it, it was on the road! But 40 kms from Salta we decided to take a cross country detour and ride west along the Rio Pasaje, a beautiful river gorge leading to Coronel Moldes and there ride north on Ruta 68. This was fantastic; we’d been riding paved roads in straight lines for thousands of miles since getting onto Ruta 3 near Puerto Santa Cruz. It was fun, loose, with scenery and it was over 50 kms long. We did have a couple of close calls with trying to put feet on the floor while still on the move; the panniers still hit the back of the legs! This area was not only being enjoyed by us but it was also used by outdoors adventurous pursuit companies for white water rafting and bungee jumping from the bridges. When the track finished we were on the perimeter road that contoured the reservoir which offered us some great riding as well as site seeing.

Arriving in Salta a little later than expected and having ridden a little further than planned, although the detour was well worth the time. Heading for the city centre we dumped ourselves at he first hotel we found after a long day in the saddle.

30 – 31 May 06. We have decided to build a parallel website using Blogspot; 2wmc.blogspot.com so that we can dump anything on it as we go while saving the main updates for the main site. So there is not much to say about these two days, other than we saw a lot of the inside of a hotel room and a keyboard!

01 Jun 06 (Thu). If we stayed the hotel for any longer we’d start to suffer from cabin fever and we wanted to ride a circular route that looked interesting on the map, returning to the same hotel. A midmorning start, 120 miles south down Ruta 68 to Cafayate; the terrain to Alemania was flat fertile open ground, but past Alemania we rode into the some fantastic mountain scenery, still on paved roads so not only was the scenery great but the riding was good fun too. We took the opportunity to use the head cameras for what we hope will be some interesting filming. Arriving at Cafayate we dually went the wrong way around the town square and parked outside a café as soon as we realised, hoping no one had noticed; but they had; the Tourist Information guy came across on his push bike and explained that this was the only town in Argentina where the one way system is back-to-front and then he went on to give us some good information about our proposed route back.

Lunch in the town square was like sitting at a ski resort, cool air but bright warm sunshine, surrounded by mountains. Lunch was an interesting dish; we thought we’d ordered special burgers and got a steamed maize meal dish rapped in leaves; and very tasty it was too. As we ate we were treated to a flying display by a flock of brightly coloured and very noisy parrots screeching around over head.

Leaving Cafayate, we headed north on Ruta 40 for the 210 mile ride back to Salta on a parallel route west of our route down through high mountains and on gravelled tracks. It too us 2 hours to get to Cafayate and nearly 7 hours to get back! The scenery was even more spectacular than the ride down; the wide open fertile plateau of the Valles Calchaquies with hundreds of acres of vineyards, which gave way to steep gorges with narrow passes, to long views of the mountains. The track was the most demanding that we have encountered so far from the point of stability; the surface was so loose that we rarely got out of third gear and often in danger of being on our sides! It was getting to the point in the afternoon when we wanted to be off the bikes with our feet up; it was going to take longer than we thought to return to Salta

If we thought it was hard work for us, the two touring cyclists really had their work cut out, bouncing from stone to stone! When we reached Cachi, according to the GPS we had 78 kms to run home (in a straight line) but the road sign state 157 kms to Salta!! Then we hit tarmac, wide straight and in very good condition; that should be good for high speed finish to the day. Opening the throttles, the bikes were not their usual response selves! Checked the GPS and we were at 2500 metres above sea level; well that explains it; a bit of oxygen starvation; and it would not get better until we crossed the final mountain pass at an altitude of 3200 metres. They still performed well, just did not have the same poke as at lower altitudes. Riding down the other side of the mountains we were off the paved surface and back on gravel and it was altogether a more technical affair, hairpin bends and steep drops, but at least the surface was a bit more stable than earlier. Arriving late at Salta, two weary riders slumped off bikes after a 10 hour day, 7 of which was like wrestling with Mike Tyson! We had planned to sort bikes out for a prompt departure tomorrow, but that can wait and we’ll have a leisurely start instead.

02 Jun 06 (Fri). A bit of maintenance on the bikes can take a long time which put are start time back to 1130. Having got some good clear direction from Gaston, one of the hotel porters, we set off aiming north east for Ruta 51 and San Antonio de los Cobres. Unfortunately either the directions were duff or my interpretation of them was duff as we ended up on a road heading south west, now that’s 180 degrees out! Retrace our route and find a policeman who gave us some more direction; “down there and turn right” so we did; stop and ask another couple of workmen who thought the route ahead was blocked; along comes an old gent on a motorbike who joins in the advice process. “No, the road head is passable”; good we’ll head off then; “ah but; there is a bit of a river to ford”. “Okay, how deep”; “only a metre or so”!! No thanks, don’t fancy a swim with the bikes this morning if there is an alternate route. We bid them farewell and turn around again to meet the policeman who said we should have taken the next right turn – okay we’ll give it a go. Then we’re at a fording point of a river; we sit and ponder when the two workmen rock up and say they will lead us to the road we want; fantastic. Ford this bit of water and away we go. Just short of the road the workmen stop, saying it’s just around the corner over the river and straight ahead. Nearly there; around the bend and there was the river! Now in a 4 x 4 it would not be an issue but this river was about 50 metre across with a 20 metre stretch of reasonably fast flowing, boulder strewn and up to the pots in depth. Well let’s go for it; I was first bike, while Mick S remained on the bank giving useful words of advice and encouragement. The river bed was very loose and the boulders did not give much traction, just slipped away under the bike; in danger of just digging the rear wheel in. Feet down boots full of water, slipping the clutch just hoping to remain upright and gently I claw my way to the far side. I had hoped that Mick S would wait long enough for me to get a camera out before he set off, but oh no, he’d seen the errors I made and was determined to get across without getting his feet wet or be caught on camera. As I was trying to find a bit of firm ground to put the bike on the stand, he called, he was stuck, his left foot was trapped by the bike and he couldn’t move! Paddling back and helping Mick S get mobile again confirmed another age old lesson “time spent on recce is never wasted”! It might have been worth our while to check up and down the bank to for a better crossing point.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent riding to San Antonio de los Cobres along some more gravel but also a long stretch of very good quality paved road, lots of sweeping bends, wide open corners that you can see across and very few other vehicles to avoid. The road was ours, what fun; but the bikes performance started to drop off again as we steadily climb to our highest point of 4200 metres. We are now in a very cold hotel with no heating in San Antonio de los Cobres at 3800 metres. The lack of oxygen is blatantly evident as the merest task, like standing up too quickly makes you light headed and the walk down the hill (400 metre distance) to get a brew and food was a task in itself! Just sitting here typing, I can feel the affects and we didn’t even get a good sunset photo which we thought we might at this altitude.

An obvious observation having ridden all the way up the east side of Argentina through Uruguay, Paraguay and back into northern Argentina is that each change of environment brings different, interesting and potentially catastrophic challenges for us. In the Falklands and Patagonia it was sheep and geese who diced with us. Around the urbanised areas from Bahia Blanca through Buenos Aires it was traffic and pedestrians. Uruguay it was the police and dogs. The run up to Iguazu was uneventful as most of what had been on the road had been killed! Through Paraguay it was fast cars who owned the entire road and the running gauntlet of people and dogs trying to cross the road. Back into Argentina the first few hundred Kms it was birds of prey feeding of road kill and becoming road kill themselves or leaving to dangerously late to lift off and clear the road. Then it was a string of chicken, pigs, horses, donkeys, cattle and goats, you name it was on the road! Now its llamas; Mick S had to take evasive action to miss a pair who leapt in front of him this afternoon! What next?

03 Jun 06 (Sat). Today was one of those very difficult days right from the start; we did not want to start the day and when we had we just wanted it to end! We were like a couple of wet kippers and the bikes weren’t much better, they were reluctant to start too. It was probable the accumulative effect of conditions that directly influenced the final act of the day! No sleep (or very little) the night before as we were at an altitude 4000 metres in an hotel that had no heating, we slept fully clothed and still were cold! Fatigue from lack of sleep, low oxygen, heavy bikes, very cold conditions at an altitude of 4000 metres with snow, very poor track conditions and, hind sight being 20/20 we should have put a set of new tyres on. But that’s what adventures are all about; not reckless abandonment of due care but a sense of dare; we did and got a little hurt!

The objective today was to ride south about 300 kms on Ruta 43 to Antofagasta de la Sierra. Everywhere in Salta there were posters for Viaducto La Polvorilla, advertised as a monumental site worthy of a visit 20 kms south of San Antonio. It was near our route so we went to see it; yes it is a fine viaduct, but I think there has been a bit of commercial licence been used to advertise it! What is impressive about it is the sheer feat of engineering, to build the railway and all of the bridges and viaducts along this route. Apparently the line is no longer in use, but it would make a very good tourist attraction if it were.

Having left the Viaducto La Polvorilla we had our first tumble. A down hill right hander and Mick’s front wheel went its own way in soft sand and down he went, banging his left ankle (you know, the one he trapped yesterday in the river). It takes both of us to right these bikes and having done so it can then be difficult to get then to stay up on steep slopes. Recovered and on our way continuing to climb to our highest point of 4560 metres (approx 15,000ft) up some demanding tracks that were determined to unseat us and into the snowline. Spectacular views or what? To get perspective of size and distance look at the photo with the track on the left side, in the near distance, it’s about 15 metres wide and 500 metres away, then look at the same track in the far distance. I’m running out of superlatives to describe big and vast because it’s all so big! Travelling in the UK you are never far away from civilisation and those were Mick S thoughts as we road past an almost competed railway station in the middle of nowhere that look like it had been built as part of a film set and his backend kicked out. Two quick bounces and he was dispatched onto the gravel. As the forward momentum rolled him ahead of the bike he was conscious that the bike was crashing around on the gravel very near him and oh yes and that’s a left side pannier flying overhead separate from the bike landing 10 metres ahead of him! Nothing made contact with him other than the ground, thankfully.

As this was all unfolding in front of me, I was coming to a halt, looking to where I could stop my bike and get a side stand down without it falling over as well as watching Mick to make an early assessment of the situation and extent of the damage. In a situation like this you want to see movement straight away, and preferably, whinging, whining, cursing and swearing, that indicates that he’s conscious, has an airway so can breath. A silent casualty is very worrying. Mick was not silent; what a relief! He got a good roughing up from the gravel and banged that left ankle yet again but other wise was okay! This time the bike was a little bruised, dent in the tank, left rear mirror broken and the pannier ripped off. No major problems. The pannier went back on this a little field engineering and will get more attention when we reach civilisation. That’s now two downs for Mick S and three for me, he’s catching up!

We stopped at Salar de Pocitos to ask direction to Antofagasta; pointed in the right direction with advice that it was 220 kms and the first part of the track was much like we had been riding on so far but the rest was very bad!! Oh dear, that sounds like hard work as we were already getting quite physically tired from the last 110 kms of arduous ride. Well I’m just about to increase my lead. Slip sliding in the snow my back end breaks away and I’m on the floor; nice low speed drop but still an impact. As I’m going down I give the call GONE, GONE, GONE over the comms to let Mick S know that I’m no longer with him and will need help; if only to pick the bike up. He dually comes back and we get mine up on its wheels, no damage to me or machine. He turns his around and rides off as I turn mine around in a snowdrift, slip and promptly drop it again; back he comes and we do it all again. It’s now two/five, I’m still leading.

As we were coming to the end of the good bit of track we are riding on a causeway crossing a vast plateau, almost aptly named Salar del Hombre Muerte (desert of the dead man), of soft mud that look like its just been ploughed with a truck heading towards us. They was nowhere off the track and not sufficient room for us to ride past an oncoming truck with safety and he had no intensions of stopping, so we did. Not having paid close enough attention to the spot that I chose to stop at, I got the full benefit of a 6 wheeler going through a slurry like puddle. Deep joy!

We reached the end of the good track, which was good (relatively speaking) as it serviced a major mineral exploration site. The advice from Pocitos was exactly right; the bad track was very bad, it was 1500 hrs and we had 90 kms to go, probably 2 or 3 hours of very careful riding. Mick S was still leading and I got 100 metres into it when without warning I was down, just having sufficient warning to shout over the comms and I hit the floor hard, very hard and was rolling. As with Mick earlier you’re looking for the bike and trying to stay ahead of it, if you can. Fortunately the ground was very soft and the bike did one turn and the came to rest on its right side. I was hurt, winded and flat, but thought that I was generally ok and must make a move as Mick was sorting himself out to come back for me. Trying to get to my knees was a challenge and then trying to stand, the world would not stay still; I must sit down. The bike was a metre behind me and had stalled; first thing to do is switch off the ignition. With the bike on its right side, the rear wheel offers itself as the perfect seat; things were still spinning though. Mick’s initial assessment as me approached me was that riding had finished for this day. My body language and manner indicated that even if I was just bruised it was a good one! I could not raise my left arm to undo the chin strap and got Mick to do it. With every failed attempt to help myself it confirm to Mick that all was not well. Together we righted the bike and got it on its stand. Recovered the left side pannier that had separated from the bike too while I went about the charade of having enough time to get my breath back and let the body recover from the shock of impact.

It was the left shoulder that was giving me jip; so it was time to do the touch test! Yes, it was broken; my left clavicle was clearly in two pieces! Once we’d confirmed that, to go on was not an option, Mick road back 3 kms to the mineral site to get some help. As I’ve said in previous updates, it’s only when you need something do you really touch the heart and sole of a people and find out what they are really like. My recovery to civilisation and then to the main hospital in Salta was a relay over 350 kms by a Mineral Exploration Company, Minera del Altiplano at Incahuasi where I had the tumble. They collected me after Mick went to their compound and raised he alarm. Checked by the nurse Mirte and her diagnosis was a break, unfortunately that was a very easy and obvious observation! Sophia Colque who spoke English liaised with her own company for our recovery to hospital. They put us into a Pickup to drive north to be intercepted by a Pickup driving south to meet us and do a vehicle change. Vehicle change complete, we drove a 100 kms back to Salor de Pocitos at a rate that was a concern to our survivability, where we given supper, drinks and a warm welcome. On the move again, for an eye popping hair-raising 2 hour night drive to the local hospital San Antonio de los Cobres. Sitting in the front seat I had the full advantage of a clear view of it all; downhill mountain pass hairpin drive! Number 1 Parachute Training School at RAF Brize Norton as a motto “knowledge dispels fear”! I have never been convinced by that as the first parachute jump is always into the unknown and the second was more frightening because you know what’s coming! Does knowledge amplify fear; is ignorance is bliss?

San Antonio de los Cobres hospital is no more than a rural clinic, in desperate need of financial and technical support. But, as with everything else we have come into contact with, they make good with what they have and they always gave the very best. I was seen within minutes of arriving and the radiographer was called to take an x-ray on a machine that should have been consigned to a museum. It worked to fashion, but indicated a dislocated shoulder too – oh dear! Minutes after the x-ray we were in the back of the local ambulance for another hair-raising 200 km ride to Salta, but this time we were in the back and could not see out; spared the view.

At Salta, I was seen within minutes firstly by an English speaking doctor who made the first assessment, followed by the consultant’s opinion and sent for an x-ray. The Chief of Administration, Betty, was on hand that evening; a short, slight lady who’s authority was evident by the way she was treated. I’m not sure if it is normal practice but she led me off for the x-ray and chatted to me constantly in Spanish until I could get it across to her that I did not understand. She then started to chastise me in good humour for not speaking Spanish especially as I was touring on a Spanish speaking continent; supposes she’s got a point! And then she started taking the micky out of me for falling off and for riding a bike in the first place. Fortunately there was no dislocated shoulder, deep joy, just the fracture that would be put in place but traction from a figure of 8 plaster of paris cast. Easy, job done, carry on with riding in a months time.

04 Jun 06 (Sun). It’s now 0300 hrs on Sunday morning and we are back in the hotel that we left 48 hrs ago and will remain here until the end of the week, while we recover the bikes that were left at Incahuasi; where they are being secured and their transportation to us in Salta arranged. I think we should see them on Monday or Tuesday.

Now the day that we didn’t really want to start had ended; it was a long one.

05 – 06 Jun 06. Mick S liaised with Mariana Fulco from Minera del Altiplano the mineral company regarding the recovery of the bikes from Incahuasi to Salta. They will put then on one of there trucks arriving here on Wednesday at about midday. The remaining time was getting a bit of exercise and some local site seeing (see pics of local buildings), getting some rest as we were both sore; Mick’s left ankle and my shoulder. With limited shoulder mobility and unable to use my left hand for much, Mick was tying my shoe laces, putting on my shirt etc, he said it took him back to the days when his youngest was about four; but he did draw the line….

07 Jun 06 (Wed). By midday we should have had the bikes back but there was a delay with the trucking company, they did not leave Incahuasi until later and would be in Salta by about 1730 hrs. I had to get medical report from the hospital for my insurance and I also wanted to get a second opinion on my shoulder; not that the original diagnosis was incorrect just that the treatment excessive. The second doctor did advise that the plaster cast could come off and be replaced by a figure 8 velcro and elastic strap that I could buy from a local orthopaedic shop. That was easier said than done with my lack of Spanish, but we succeed and it is more comfortable and gives me the chance to have a shower.

Getting the hospital report for the insurance was by shear chance and fluke of timing. I walking to the hospitals main entrance, stood there and wandered which way to go, turned and bumped into Doctor Facundo P. Arganaraz Olivero the English speaking doctor who saw me when I arrived in casualty early on Sunday morning. He asked how I was and if the treatment was ok – of course! I asked for a hospital report but he explained that as I was not admitted as a patient the hospital does not maintain a record. If you are walking wounded you are patched up and sent on your way. Any follow-up is the responsibility of the patient. And he was very busy and could not do a hand written statement for me just now. With a pained expression I explained that we were leaving Salta tomorrow and… He produced one there and then.

At 1700 hrs we when to the offices of Minera del Altiplano to meet the truck with our bikes. The haulier arrived with no trucks but drove us to his yard some 10 kms away where the bikes had been off loaded and were being cleaned by his men. They also looked in the same condition as we had left them on Saturday afternoon, not bad really when you think that they had a 350 kms journey in the back of a truck over some very rugged terrain! We collected all of the loose bits and put then into the haulier’s pickup and Mick rode both bikes in shuttle run back to the hotel being led by the haulier to make sure he did not get lost. The bikes are now safely parked in the hotel garage and will stay there until we return from the Caribbean.

08 Jun 06 (Thu). We are now on the move again, starting a long journey to the Caribbean to meet our wives. Because we did not make our objective this week of riding to Santiago Chile, we will have a 2 ½ days, 5 plane relay to complete it! Already we are delayed and we have not got to the first aircraft. As yesterday, there is heavy morning fog in the valley of Salta and yesterday it took until midday before it had burnt off. The plane we are due to get at 0920 hrs to Buenos Aires has been diverted to wait for the fog to lift. We had a 41/2 hour delay, not taking off until 1350 hrs but the pilot cut the estimated flying time from 2 hrs 15mins to 1 hr 40 mins, not bad! It was then a dash across Buenos Aires to the other airport; well we wanted it to be a dash but the taxi driver had other ideas, probably his licence! We arrive at the next airport, Aeroparque Jorge Newbery at 1650 and were on the plane and taxiing down the runway towards Santiago at 1740 hrs; that was close.

The weather in Bs Aires was oppressively humid after the clear airs of Salta at 1600 metres ASL and above, with a serious storm looming as we took off and climbed to altitude then there was some of the most severe turbulence that I have encountered for a long time. Arriving at Santiago to very cooler conditions and rain, Mick recons that the accident might have been a blessing in disguise as the conditions over the Andes might have been quite difficult! Not sure that I agree with that, being the one with the sore shoulder!

That’s all for this week; we’re off for a suntan and table dancing; just hope I don’t fall off!

Our intention for the next week.

Did we reach our goals of last week; No, We were running ok until the mishap on Saturday.

Intentions for next week should be obvious, achievable and attainable!

P. S. Many thanks to those of you from the parachuting fraternity with those very useful, helpful and encouraging comments and tips on how to land! I’ll try some of them next time!