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Published: December 8th 2015
Salta, Argentina
Perhaps the prettiest plaza in South America, boasting the most prominent Spanish colonial architecture in Argentina.Give yourselves a well-deserved pat on the back, folks, for enduring our incoherent ramblings that could lately best be characterized as a how-not-to-do-it guide for bike touring in South America. As a reward for your perseverance in following us on our circuitous, often directionless route (literally) that one fellow long-haul cyclist kindly described as "complicated", this will be our last journal entry that you'll have to suffer through. After having completed a 4,100 mile (6,600 km) bike trek that included over 200,000 vertical feet of total ascent, the loss of every ounce of body fat that either of us had (and one trip to a hospital in Salta that looked like a stage scene from 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest'), we've decided to end our ride in Bolivia and carry on our travels in South America by bus. It's been a challenging, exhausting, sometimes demoralizing, exhilarating, unforgettable experience, but our bodies need a break... well, my body needs a break; Fi could continue riding for another 4,000 miles, I bet.
I'll try to summarize what's been happening since Salta, Argentina. We actually decided to spend a couple more days there than we had originally planned, partly so that I
Salta cable car
None of the cars fell off the cable on the day we rode it. could fully recover from whatever it was that had made me ill (we think it was salmonella) and so that we could do some touristy things, like ride the cable car to the top of the mountain that lies on Salta's southern reaches. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but halfway up the 20-minute ascent, and 100 feet above the rocky ground, Fi began to wonder when the last time the cable had been replaced, and what government agency - if any - conducted regular inspections on these plastic death traps. By the time we reached the top, she was a clammy, quivering mess ready to kick open the flimsy door and tumble out of our flying whale egg to terra firma. Luckily the door did open without any kicking required, and she was able to preserve a shred of dignity upon her hasty exit, despite clawing at the window with her frantic-looking, wide-eyed face pressed against it for the final 10 meters of ascent. After about an hour at the top, we decided to walk back down rather than ride!
We left Salta a day or so later. Since no one had stolen our bikes,
Ruta 9 between Salta and Jujuy
A brief escape from the desert, this stretch of road was a nice change while it lasted, cool, dry, and virtually devoid of traffic. left enticingly unattended in the hotel garage, we were forced to continue riding them. Riding north from Salta, we climbed north into a very green, subtropical mountain forest, reminding me a lot of the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. Once away from Salta, the traffic died down to virtually nothing, leaving this peaceful, cool, green mountain valley virtually to ourselves. With an easy, flowing, 10-mile descent into Jujuy (pronounced 'hoo-HOO-ee'), it was probably our most enjoyable riding day in Argentina. It was also nice to break up the interminable desert with green landscape, which we hadn't seen since leaving Chile. A day later, we were back in the desert mountains. Although the desert has been stunning in its own right, the cool, green mountains were a brief and welcome change.
Passing through Jujuy, we had a short, 30-mile ride to the small village of Yala, where we were befriended by a small kitten with a tremendous set of lungs that he/she used to serenade us with... all night until Fi let him/her into our cabin, in which he/she was very keen to reside. Much taken with her new feline friend who - along with a full complement of
Yala
Our accommodations for the night. Ken, plotting out tomorrow´s ride. fleas - promptly took up residence on her pillow, inches from her head - Fi sheepishly proposed the following morning that perhaps we could take kitty (which she had aready named Annabelle, despite not being certain of his/her gender) with us on our ride through the continuing desert. Naturally, I suspected that she had fallen victim to cat-scratch fever, or had begun drinking in the morning. She might as well have proposed that we trade our bikes for Hippity-Hops and bounce our way up the mountains to Bolivia. Luckily, Fi, who is a normally very intelligent and practical, realized that there was no other choice but to say our goodbyes to Annabelle, and let her get on with her 9 lives. It was an amicable parting. Despite Fi's emotional explanation of our departure, Annabelle appeared nonplussed.
Our next several days of riding on Argentina Highway 9 had us climb up to over 12,500 ft above sea level through more red rock desert and onto the Altiplano. Once above 10,000 feet, we remained above that elevation on the Altiplano between Argentina and Bolivia until we reached the border crossing at Villazon, Bolivia (11,300 ft above sea level). This was our
Fi finds a friend
Annabelle, whose meow sounded more like a car alarm than a noise capable of emanating from a small cat. third border crossing on bikes (US-Mexico, Chile-Argentina, Argentina-Bolivia). Each one has been an experience. This one highlighted the stark differences between the two neighboring countries. Upon leaving Argentina, we were greeted by signs and a very officious and pleasant border guard, who made certain that we obtain the proper exit stamps before leaving the country, which we did. Hopping back on our bikes, we continued riding a short distance in search of the Bolivian passport control, only to find that we had ridden past it and into the city's market district before we realized that we must have passed it by... but how!? We kept our eyes peeled for anything looking like Bolivian customs or immigration. After Fi had poked her head into a small, abandoned office space along the side of the road, a police officer finally approached us and informed us half-heartedly that we needed to return back over the bridge connecting the two countries, and look for a small window on the side of a nondescript building; and that's where a very laid-back Bolivian immigration official stamped our passports with entry dates. The funny thing was that while all this border control activity was occurring for those
Purmamarca, Argentina
This crappy photo doesnt´t really do the town justice. It´s actually a very pretty place with lots of brilliant colors. that crossed from one country to the other legally (i.e. across the bridge), there were dozens of people that crossed the border by simply walking through the dry river bed below the bridge! Although the customs and immigration officials of both countries were busy issuing and collecting forms (that no one ever reads) for those that enter and leave each country properly, they must believe that their jurisdiction and authority is limited to the bridge, and anyone that crosses the border by walking around or under their checkpoints isn't their responsibility. It kind of reminded me of the scene from the Mel Brooks film 'Blazing Saddles', where the sheriff set up a toll booth in the middle of the desert to slow down the bad guys who were on their way to town on their horses to shoot up the place... "Why don't they just walk around it?!" Just another experience that is uniquely South American.
So, to make a long story slightly less long, we arrived in Villazon, Bolivia, where we loaded ourselves and our bikes onto a night bus for La Paz. After 16 hours, we arrived in La Paz's normally frenetic bus terminal at about 3am,
Ruta 9
In the Humahuaca Quebrada, headed north to the Altiplano and Bolivia. where we enjoyed a short but surreal ride through the giant, sleeping city to a hotel that we've stayed in before and have enjoyed very much. We really like La Paz: this was my fourth visit there since 2007, and Fi has lived and worked there for about a year. It was nice to eat some good food, sleep in a comfy bed, and see friends that we haven't seen since our last visit in 2014. Having finished riding for the time being, we were able to find two bike boxes for when we eventually transport them and our camping gear to their next destination. Currently, our bikes are packed away and stored at the hotel in La Paz while we're hanging out in the warm and pretty city of Sucre, which we reached following a 12 hr bus ride a couple of days ago.
As some of you may recall, our original South America plan was to find a place to call home and emigrate to somewhere on the continent. Although we haven't found our place in the sun in South America yet, we plan to continue travelling in South America (perhaps head to Brazil or back down
Old railroad
Quebrada de Humahuaca, north of Tilcara, Argentina to Chile) for the next month or two, primarily to avoid the bulk of the orbital North American winter. We'll reassess our options then. Perhaps we'll find what we're both looking for here, perhaps not, but we'll continue exploring while we have the opportunity. It's still a pretty blank canvas.
We'd again like to thank our friends Marion and Ron for taking such great care of our beloved little muppet of a dog, Goldie. Without their generous support in taking her in while we jaunt about, none of this would have been possible. We are also very appreciative of our respective families who have provided tremendous moral support along the way, and who didn't immediately have us both committed when we first told them that we were considering moving our lives to South America. Finally, thanks to all of you, our friends that have read this blog. It's great to see that you guys are checking up on us; thanks for your support. As promised, this will be our last entry. We'll continue our travels, but this blog has fulfilled its purpose. We love getting emails, so if you'd like to see what predicaments we're getting into, just drop
Yippee! 4,000 miles!
A brief pause to celebrate our crossing the 4,000 mile threshold. Followed by more riding north into a headwind. us a line, we'll reply back:
* Ken's email - ken.morton@hotmail.com
* Fi's email - fhmitchell@hotmail.com
We wish you all a wonderful Christmas and Holidays! There are a lot more photos below...
~ Ken & Fi
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Fi Mitchell
non-member comment
I miss Annabelle!