The Carretera Austral and nearly the end of the road.

The Good News


Always good to start with the good news I think - Ushuaia, what a disappointment. It my be the most southerly city in the world and the start point of overland and Antarctica journeys, but it has little else going for it. Over priced, rough around the edges and staffed by people who know you have no option by to pay up or get out – it could almost be London. So after two rain and sleet sodden days I was glad to head out of Dodge and start the real journey – To Alaska! There are going to be more miles than I first expected, the best estimate at present is that I have 24,000 miles to go, on top of the 4000 or so already completed, quiet amazing when you think the circumference of the planet is only 24,000 miles.

I had a few days rest in the town of Rio Grande, an opportunity to check the bike over and get some laundry done, there are some long days riding ahead and I want everything feeling right. The group is all going it separate ways from this point, most are heading towards Buenos Aires, while Axel and I are going to travel onwards together, as we are both hoping to be in Colombia for the end of February, when we know we can catch a boat over to Panama, an old sailing boat that takes 6 days to do the crossing and stops off at various islands in the Caribbean along the way. Right now in windy Patagonia and no doubt Europe that sounds like absolute heaven, but it’s a long way from here and there will be many bridges to cross before that will be a reality.

We left the island of Tierra del Fuego, which is divided in half by Chile and Argentina, crossing the Magellan Straits at its closest point to the mainland by the ferry service that was much shorter than the 3 hours on the way over. On the mainland we discovered an almost ghost town settlement , the remains of an old Estancia and its wool mills straddling the coast. To add to the eerie ambiance, there were the rusting hulks of two shipwrecks on the shore, it was the perfect Patagonian scene and a photographers dream. We set up camp in a nearby wood and waited for sunset to get the best light. If there is anything I will remember Patagonia for, its skies. Vast expanses , uninterrupted for more miles than you can calculate, with every conceivable cloud formation present at the same time. But tonight we were treated to a fantastic light show, the likes of I have never seen before, as the sky seemed to glow with effervescent light as the sun past towards the horizon. There was an almost magical glow to the sky, I hope that my photos do it at least some justice, it will certainly live with me for many years.

Once back across the border in to Argentina we hit the Ruta 3, which is the main artery back up to BA. Argentina has, I’m afraid to say, a lot of very dull and uninteresting landscape, flat desert like country, with nothing to keep you interested in your many hours in the saddle, except the omnipresent side wind that roars across the plans, brought down from the Andes hundreds of miles way by the rising air of the desert and always trying to blow you off the road. Passing through windblown town after windblown town, you have to wonder what brought people here in the first place, its dry, barren with ill tempered weather, what was the attraction, work, land, money, who knows, I was just pleased to be only passing through. We only took one detour, to the town of Pueto Santa Cruz, to photograph the penguin that live on the beach, there are friendly little fellows and allow you to get quite close before seeking safety in the water.

We entered Chile again at the town of Chile Chico on the banks of South Americas largest lake, Lago General Carrera and without doubt the most stunning lake I have ever seen. Not only is it huge, but its colour of iridescent turquoise and surrounded by snow capped mountains make it striking in beauty. The road around it was at dirt, but good riding, and even with this it still took us 2 days to ride only half way around it – finally we were on the Carretera Austral, Chile’s answer to all the great road trips of the world. 10 years in the building during the rein of the dictator Pinochet in an attempt to link the whole of Chile, in part he succeeded. The road is cut through tree covered and snow capped mountains, next to roaring rivers and isolated farmhouses. Until this road was built in the 1980`s the only form of transport was the horse and for many people that has remained the same today. Cattle being driven down the road by Gauchos is a common site, however the site of a few very large heffers getting extremely close to your bike is none to reassuring. We had one day of rain - which whilst not good for the scenery, came as a reminder of how quick the weather can change in this part of the world – on the way to the state capital of Coyhaique. I frontier town set on a plan surrounded by the towering mountains and a hotch potch of buildings and perhaps the best supermarket I have seen in months. After 7 days in the saddle the chance for a rest and to dry out the gear was welcome. A day here was enough and we headed back out on to the Carretera, just in time for the skies to open and get another drenching. We sort shelter in a small fishing town in a hovel of a guest house with a hype active Senora at its helm, who bombarded us with Spanish even when we repeatedly informed her that we only spoke the basics and who chased us around with a dust pan and brush in case we dropped any dirt on the floor!

The next day started bright and sunny, so we loaded the bikes and hit the road, all was good for the first 35 miles, then the rain started, gentle drizzle at first, but the clouds grow more dense and more menacing as the road climbed in to the mountains, finally realising there contents upon us as we rode through tight valleys bursting with waterfalls, crystal clear streams and lush plant life. I though we had done the worse of it as we rode over a beautiful mountain pass, flanked by glaciers on both side, then as we descended, rain fell and the wind blow a howler, branches and leaves whistled passed our heads and small rivers formed on the road, this was defiantly not what I had signed up for.

The road turned to mixture of slick mud, shale and rock and by Christ it was cold. The road trailed next to a Fjord with Salmon farms stretched along its length and at its end a small town that looked like an oasis in a desert and the thought of a roaring fire and a hot chocolate was in sight. That is if you can find anything open, never a certainty in this part of the world. Of course the towns most expensive hotel was open and at this point I didn’t care, I just wanted to get out of this appalling weather.

Safely inside we squeezed the water out of our riding gear and put our feet up in front of an open log fire, as for the hot chocolate, no chance, our host was a frumpy old German battle-axe of a women, who looked like she had been born with a lemon in her mouth and upset to see the demise of national socialism.

The following day brought only slightly better weather as we continued along the Carretera Austral, and enjoy the limited view of the scenery that the breaks in the clouds permitted. The road started to have a lot more large stones and this was causing problems for me with my mainly road tyres . We stayed at the town La Junta, just to get out of the rain, a dank little town of rotting wooden houses , with roads made of mud and big puddles, it was a shear delight to stay in!

By the next day we at last had some blue sky and rode through the last of the CA as we were due to turn off towards the Futaleufu valley and over in to Argentina the following day. Chilean Patagonia is without doubt one of the prettiest places on earth, but the one of the reasons for this is the is the huge amount of rain that it receives and unfortunately we caught it at one of those times you just couldn't escape it, but I would definitely like to come back at some stage , rent a house and go fishing in the pristine lakes and rivers that are everywhere.

We rode up the Futa valley , at last dry and followed the banks of one of South Americas most famous white water rivers, gushing dark azul blue through the valley and frothing white over the rocks and trees that litter its course. When spent the night at a friends house and enjoyed a great home cooked meal with a few bottles of Chilean red and being molested by his month old puppy ,Princessa.

Back in to Argentina we were back on paved roads, for what seemed an age, so we opened up the throttles and eat up some mileage, covering 500 miles, through the lake district, to the town of Junin de los Andes, arriving at 10.30pm and in need of a good nights sleep. The following day was the 24th, so I hooked up to the internet and did some important calls, obviously if I did not call you that speaks for its self! We had a slap up BBQ than night at our campsite by a river and went to bed early as we wanted to push on the following day.

What a way to spend Christmas Day, than riding your bike in perfect clear sunshine on totally empty roads? Well I can think of quite a few actually, but given the circumstances it was a pretty cool day. So Christmas night was spent at a dusty hole of a town called Chos Malal, I doubt it will ever win an prizes from a tourist board, I assure you I don't intend to spend my next Xmas night in such a place.

And the bad news

The 26th of December brought another big mileage day as we wanted to make it through to Mendoza, as this has the only BMW dealer until I reach central America and the old girl needs some TLC after all I have put her through. It was getting late in the day and we had another 2 hour to go, I didn`t even have time to break when I dog ran across the road and I hit it square on. The dog went straight to doggy heaven and the next thing I knew I was sliding along on my back watching my bike sliding on its right hand side before the tyres caught the road and it somersaulted in a great cloud of dust.

Fortunately I always wear body armour, which at times seems over kill, but now I know it is worth wearing, as after sliding down the road from around 50 or 60mph I only had a scratch on my elbow, nothing else, but even now I think myself lucky, it could have been so much worse, I used up one of my lives yesterday, my shirt was ripped to shreds, but all my safety gear did exactly what it is supposed to do and I quietly thanked myself for investing in good equipment. I still bounce quite well for an old man.

The bike however looked a mess , everything has a dent , scratch or tear on it, one pannier was hanging off, the handle bars had bent in to the fuel tank and the clutch master cylinder was ripped off. Put it this way, it will take more than a can of T-Cut to make her look new again. The Police came along and asked to see my passport and if I wanted to go to hospital, but as nothing was hanging off of me I thought better of going to rural Argy hospital.

A kindly local offered to take the bike on to our destination, so we sent about loading the very bent bike on to an ancient Dodge pick up.The whole thing caused an absolute stir with the local, for whom it was more likely the biggest event all year. Bike loaded we set off for Mendoza again, me in the pick-up and Axel following behind, by this time the adrenaline had worn off and the reality did kick in of how close you are to danger all the time riding a bike and the more miles you do the narrower the odds become, but that has always been the case and its one of the reasons I ride bikes, its a strange mixture of fun and fear and there are few things in life that give you the freedom of two wheels.

The journey was not straight forward as this is South America, the old Dodge was clearly getting on its last legs and half way in to town the thing just packed up, I had visions of being stranded yet again with a fucked bike and a broken down truck. However a bit of fiddling with the extremely dangerous looking electrics got us moving again and we limped in to town arriving at our hostel at midnight, from a start of 8 am, not the Boxing day I want next year either.

I have been stripping her down today to see what the actual damage is beyond the cosmetic and at the moment I am surprised at how well the bike has dealt with such abuse. I am having it picked up by the BMW dealer on Monday for a proper assessment, but with luck it will not be too painful and the journey will continue.

Happy 2009 and my it be better for us all, hasta luego.