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Trip Start
Oct 20, 2008
1
41
Trip End
Feb 28, 2009
Punta Arenas, Patagonia, Chile
Monday, February 2, 2009
I haven't written in several days and am just going to sum up what happened in Ushuaia. I have had a great time in town checking the local shops, restaurants, prison museum and taking a windy boat tour up the Beagle Channel. Ushuaia will always hold a special place in my heart. The sleepy town streets engulfed by the huge surrounding mountains. The ships blaring their horns as they leave port. The long daylight hours and rapidly changing weather always keeping the town folk on their toes.
January 28th
Mike is getting ancy and wants to leave Ushuaia tomorrow, I am still not prepared to leave but at the end of the day I agree to it. My heart is torn knowing this is the last day I will spend here and as we prepare to head North I must now focus on the future and the new life I hope to develop. It would be so much easier to stay on the road and be a mere vagabond but it's not in my nature (I think).
January 29th
We had all of our gear packed up, prepared to leave Ushuaia this morning but as fate would have it the battery was dead. I bum started the bike and went to a local shop and had it recharged. I couldn't recall if I left the rear parking light on all night so I hope I did and there will not be anymore problems................
I check the battery tonight just before I go to bed and it is once again dead. I read the owners manual and eliminate all the possibilities as to why it keeps dying. There are a couple of tests I can do but I need a voltmeter. We will return to the garage tomorrow morning. It seems Ushuaia doesn't want us to leave either.
January 30th
Once again I bum start the bike and make my way down to the garage I am lucky the hostel is next to a large hill and can just coast down gaining momentum and enabling me to release the clutch and start the bike. It saves for a lot of pushing. After charging the battery again I perform a draw test and confirm there is no draw on the battery when the key is off. This is good. Then I hold the volt meter on the battery for several minutes. Ah ha.. that's it the battery is not holding it's charge. The garage performed all of their services for free and called a local motorcycle shop for a battery. They stock one and I am forced to pay $150.00 U.S. dollars for a new one. OUCH.
We decided to test the new battery and rode on an old road that looked to us on a map to be further south than Lapataia park. The rough gravel roads required full attention and a cold front moves in causing our bodies to get very cold. It's too the point where I am ready to turn around and head back to the hostel but I persevere and continue riding. We cross the Moat river and finally stop at an Argentina Naval post where the road ends. We turn back half frozen and bitterly cold, the winds are howling across the Beagle channel and we push hard to get back to the hostal before dark.
January 31st
We left Ushuaia late this morning and we plan on riding to Rio Grande. I was very emotional as we left and I dawdled well behind Mike trying to get myself and my thoughts together. Unanswered questions. Due to the continued high winds, rain and cold we rode slowly and stopped often on the way. Much to my disdain and frustration all I want right now is alone time I do not want to talk to anyone.
We are heading towards Punta Arenas to meet two gentlemen interested in purchasing the bikes.
February 1st
The border formalities leaving Argentina entering Chile were an absolute pleasantry. The staff easy going this morning. There are no bus loads of people only a few locals making the their way across the border. We took a different road from the Chilean border as the road we took in was an absolute nightmare and we thought we would take our chances. It was far better with hard packed gravel. The distance traveled to catch the ferry was longer but the time was by far less. As we approached the ferry we drove right onto it. Our timing could not be any better. The ship lifted it's ramp and we crossed the strait quickly. We carried on towards Punta Arenas stopping for some pictures of a mine field. Mike pulled away like a bat out of hell and I followed in no rush. He was out of sight in less than a minute and suddenly my rear tire feels flat. I pull over and confirm it is. I wait for Mike to return for over 10 minutes but there is no sign of him. I am irritated by his lack of waiting for me. I can see a few buildings about a kilometer away and push my bike to the buildings hoping there is somebody there. Mike still has not returned and I strip the bike of all it's gear and jack up the rear end of the bike. An Italian pulls up on his bike and offers to help. I explain the situation. We enter a restaurant /cafe which I find eerie because there is nothing here. The chef explains that there is a camp behind the hill. The Italian takes my tire and new inner tube up the hill while I watch the bikes. Mike returns a half hour later and we share a few strategic words and I head off furious to find my tire and Italian friend. As I enter the camp I see three men with huge crow bars trying to work the tire back onto the rim. I inspect the procedure and to my dismay realize they are tearing the bead around the tire. My patience has run out....I explain to the Italian the problem and he translates.They take it slower and finally get the tire back on. Off course when they try to inflate it it won't hold air because they pinched the new inner tube. I thank the men politely and head back to the bikes with tire and rim. I smoke two cigarettes and curse the whole way down the hillside. I note that Mike is surrounded by 4 other motorcyclists and they know where to get the tire fixed in Punta Arenas, which is an hour and a half away. Mike packs up the tire, the Italian and the new motorcyclists head into the sunset. I walk around the ghost town of Estancion San Gregorio, checking out the old ship wreck. The sun getting lower on the horizon and the wind picking up I put my sweater back on and sit beside a building to keep out of the wind. I watch a Gaucho head towards me with a wheel barrow. We chat the best we could and I note that his wheel barrow is full of wood and a freshly killed and skinned lamb. He walks behind the house and lights a fire. I cozy up to it while he and the chef from the cafe aggressively pull the lamb onto huge iron stakes. They lay the lamb over the open fire and sip on their Mate. Later the wine comes out and the Gaucho is getting hammered. I refuse a drink thinking Mike will be back soon and I do not want to be under the influence. As the lamb sizzles over the wood smoke my hunger kicks in and my mouth begins to salivate...... a truck pulls up next to the house, four men jump out and begin talking with the Gauncho. One of them speaks English and asks where I am from and what is wrong with the bike. I tell my story, he offers for me to eat with them. We go inside the house and more and more people show up.Three cases of wine appear it's dark now and I keep poking my head out the door expecting Mike to arrive, I tell the entire work crew who are from the gas exploration camp behind the hill about our adventure. The questions are flying as the wine is being drunk and I still keep refusing. I am worried sick about Mike, finally he arrives and our American friend Jeff is with him. The tire is repaired and the two of them are hungry and frozen. I hurry them inside telling them to eat. The Manager of the crew tells us we can spend the night next door, which is a huge relief to us.
While Mike and Jeff are eating I reassemble my bike with one of the crew members help. I slip back inside and enjoy a glass or two of fine Chilean red wine. We stay up late... far too late and head to our room around 12:30. I gather my things that were sitting behind a fence and bush and realize for the second time on this trip my helmet has been stolen. I was terribly disappointed, after making the best out of a bad situation and having people welcome us to their feast with great company I couldn't help but be upset. I fall asleep after star gazing in the unpolluted skies laughing at the irony.
February 2nd
So a new challenge to face this morning, as we repack the bikes, Mike and I debate our options. A few minutes later a tour group of BMW's pull over and I race over to talk to them. I ask them if anybody has a spare helmet, Mauricio explains they have a support truck just ten minutes behind and they have a spare helmet inside the truck I could have. I spent several minutes inquiring about their tour company. I learn the people on this tour pay $400.00 per day to rent the bikes. The tour is completely set-up from start to finish with hotel reservations, meals and border work paper all completed by them. Holy Mackinaw these people are paying $12000.00 U.S. to ride around Northern Chile and Argentina and that's just for the bike rentals. I wonder how much everything else cost? They will spend as much in three weeks renting the bikes as I have for the last three and a half months riding through fourteen countries all expenses included. The support vehicle shows up and they give me the helmet I thank them repeatedly as I wave them off. I am elated that once again my problem is solved.
We stop for a final photo with Jeff, refuel the bikes, exchange firm handshakes and a farewell. As we ride towards Punta Arenas I can sense that this will be our last ride. A somber thought. Once again I dawdle enjoying the scenery, can it be true it's almost over. We drive around Punta Arenas and find a suitable hotel. Mike contacts the potential buyers and we are meeting with them tomorrow morning at 8:00. We both take the bikes to the car wash and give them a good wash just to encourage the sale. Later in the evening I research options for flights home in case the sale happens.
February 3rd
We awaken at 7:00 this morning both excited and nervous about the prospects of selling the bikes, we ride down to the intersection where we arranged to meet the potential buyers. We wait anxiously checking Mike's watch frequently. It's 8:15 and they are late.. hm.. my mind becomes cynical thinking about the likelihood of such a deal really panning out. It's 8:20 and they show up, they are very nice and are eager to critique the bikes.They ask to ride them and we both agree. We throw all the spare parts, manuals and our helmets in to sweeten the pot. They agree to buy the bikes for the asking price. We had to wait until 11:00 a.m. for Aduana to open and fill in the paperwork, so we parked the bikes across from the office and we all went out for some breakfast. We headed back to the office and filled in the paperwork. The new owners are ecstatic and we shuffle into the back of a car where they pull out a huge wad of Chilean Peso's. My eye's light up and tell them the deal was $6500.00 u.s. They seem a little taken back but agreed that was the deal so Mike stayed with the bikes while we found a cambio to exchange currencies. After several minutes of negotiations the banker and the buyers had an agreement on the exchange rate. We leave the office with all that money in my pocket. I confirm with Mike that the deal is final. We get several pictures with the new owners of the bikes. They drive them over to the customs office and park them in security. I'm not quit sure what the rules are in Chile but the bikes must be held in customs for a minimum of a week. They offer us a ride back to the hotel, Mike seems to think he left a spare bike part at the hotel and wants to give it to the new owner. I refuse, thinking of all the cash in my pocket. I quickly make myself vanish while Mike heads back to the hotel. I stop at an internet cafe and quickly research flights home. Our best option is with Air Canada from Santiago to Toronto. It is a direct flight and is also the least expensive. The challenge now is how do we get from Punta Arenas to Santiago. Mike meets me at the cafe and we decided to find a couple of travel agents to check out flights from Punta Arenas to Santiago. We get pricing, flights availability and times. We stop for a late lunch because we are both starving. Mike asks me to keep it a secret from Kirsten about the sale of the bikes. We stop at SKY Airlines and find out they have two flights available at 6:00 this evening. It's 4:30 now and I double check the print out's of Air Canada's flights, perfect we can fly to Santiago tonight and leave from there to Toronto the following afternoon. We agree to take the last two seats. It is 4:45 and Mike heads back to the hotel to pack while I race to the internet cafe to purchase our Air Canada tickets home. The internet is slow and it takes fifteen minutes to book the tickets. I run back to the hotel 4 blocks away and uphill. I ask the hotel clerk to call us a cab mucho rapido. I quickly pack my items and run down three flights of stairs. The taxi shows up and it's 5:30 shit this is the cut off time for our flight. We tell the cab driver we are in a big rush and that our flight leaves at 6:00 , he races through the city. We get stuck at a set of lights because a construction crew is changing the lights. The taxi driver is doing more than double the speed limit as we race out of the city towards the airport. The door's open to the cab before it could stop, we jump out and grab our luggage we race to the terminal where the SKY Service staff calls out our names as we approach the counter they sticker our bags and we race through airport security. We get on the plan sweating buckets from all the rushing. We both let out a laugh. An adventure it is my friend as the plane is taxied down the runway. We land at Santiago at 10:00, we wait for our luggage and then exit the terminal. We are greeted by a beautiful and cheerful women who represents different hotels and tries to sell them packages. We weighed our options and decide to stay at the expensive Holiday Inn directly across from the airport. She gave us a 15% discount voucher for our room. We walked across the street and booked ourselves in. The concierge showed us our rooms and we almost fell over in delight. The room was enormous, a great view of the city offered by the glass wall. The beds and pillows soft and clean and the bathroom was fit for a king. We are ecstatic, what a fitting way to end our trip. We unpack and head down to the bar, our last night of the trip deserves a round of celebrations.
February 4th
We both slept soundly last night and we didn't wake up until 8:30 this morning. We head down to the restaurant for coffee and breakfast. I check e-mails and find out that Elske has arranged for Mike's parents to pick him up at the airport She asks me to keep it a secret, so now there will be a surprise for Mike as well! We check out of our room at 11:00 and enjoy the hotel amenities and warm sunny weather. We eat supper late and finally at 3:45 check in with Air Canada. We grab a coffee and sit outside for an hour talking about the trip, our futures and how this trip will change us. It was one of our best conversation's the entire trip. We board the plane at 5:45 and are in the air by 6:00.
February 5th
We landed at 5:55 this morning, I am tired and irritable. The customs official gave me a hard time getting back into Canada, but after a lengthy explanation he understood and allowed me through. We pick up our luggage and once again are given a hard time by customs because our panniers look "militant" I explain to the officer about our trip and he smiles, welcomes us home and allows us through. We enter the waiting area. Mike doesn't realize his parents are standing in front of him and is pleasantly surprised. My wife hasn't arrived yet and I laugh to myself because once again she is late. I head outside and the cold crisp air bites my nose off. What a huge temperature difference from Santiago where it was 28 degrees when we left to this cold uninviting minus 28. Mike and I get our last picture together from the trip, we shake hands and he and his parents leave the airport. Both reality and the cold hit me hard as we drive west on the 401, the road signs excellent directing us exactly where we need to go, the trip is over, I am happy and content to be home but already yearn for the challenges and excitement of missing road signs.
