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Published: November 25th 2009
After such a productive day crossing back into Bolivia, we did not expect progress as slow as the next day. No one in Pisiga seemed to know how to get to Lilca, a town we were initially aiming for on the western side of the Salar de Uyuni, the largest of the two. Everyone we asked were completely useless, including a soldier we came across. They just shrugged their shoulders and pointed in a vague fashion somewhere down the only road in sight. It seems that they are sometimes too ashamed to say they don´t know, so they make something up. We got our maps out and decided to follow a road which went in the general direction, south. This ´road´did not lead anywhere. So rather than turning back and cutting our losses, a forbidden action, we went óff piste´. This proved to be very adventurous but ultimately the wrong coarse of action. Not another person nor road in sight, except a distant mountain road which lead to Coipasa, a town in the middle of the smaller salt flats, one which we did not intend on visiting. Time went by as we were still pushing our bikes over some very poor
terrain. We found a lunch spot, not suitable as there was no refuge from the sun, but nescessary for us to gather our thoughts and decide on a decent plan of action, water once again becoming a slight issue. Raphael climed a nearby hill to get his bearings and some kind of idea where we might surface from this rock strewn desert, Ross darted off on a 2km run, again a kind of scouting mission, whilst I started a fire and made lunch. You´d have thought I had the easy task, but when you are forced to chop onions and garlic with a small penknife on a less than suitable metal plate, things can get tough. Ross returned with some fairly reliable information and we soon formulated a new plan; to head for Coipasa. So after lunch we tweaked our direction and began pushing again, as the terrain was entirely uncyclable. We pushed for about two hours until finally we rounded a small hill and the terrain suddenly changed to bright white. We had at last reached some salt. Things got much better and we really enjoyed the freedom of cycling on the salt, with no cars and no hills.
It was a massive relief to have exited the wasteland of western Bolivia, with also a feeling of triumph, safe in the knowledge that we were likely to have been the only tourists to have taken this particular route. We rapidly darted across the salt, and were soon informed that to our dismay, our map was wrong, and Coipasa was actually situated on the opposite side of a large volcano in the middle. So as always, the fun was short lived and we were now faced with another race against the clock.
The next stretch, off the salt and onto the road around the mountain to Coipasa harboured the worst roads we had come across, which we did not think was at all possible. Much pushing and much pedalling over washboards later we arrived in Coipasa just in the nick of time and were treated to some interesting colours in the sky as the sun went down behind us. Despite what the guide books had said, all of the locals we met here were incredibly helpful and friendly. We filled up our water vessels in a rustic fashion, using a well and a bucket and rope. Supper was awesome
pasta again and although we had only travelled a mere 47km, we felt like we had earned it.
The next morning was awesome, as we immediately descended onto the southern part of the salt flats of Coipasa and cycled across about 40km of salt, before reaching the edge and becoming faced with a little known about void to cross in order to get to the next mass of salt. Roads were terrible which slowed our progress immensely after such a great start to the day. It was certainly a very interesting journey across these hills. We came across several small villages, the inhabitants of which were fascinated to see us, especially some rather odd acting kids. Some just staring at us blankly as if perhaps they had not seen white people before, but i´m sure we were not that off the beaten track. The villagers were kind enough though to allow us to fill our bottles with their well water. It was an odd stretch of our journey to be acquiring water in this way. It had been stiflingly hot all day, until we came to a village and stopped to plunge for some more well water. Just ahead
of us we could see an almighty storm with some shattering fork lightening and deafening thunder. On came the coats and we prepared ourselves for a wet ride. It spitted on us but it soon became evident that we had fortunately missed the worst of the storm, as the road we were cycling on became a torrent and all around was evidence of an almighty hail storm. We plodded on and within an hour or so, the weather had once again changed and the hail had melted into the dry earth. We were not too far from the main salt flat now, so we decided to set up camp just off the road in another awesome site with plenty of burnable material around.
We were all hugely excited by the prospect of riding on some more salt, after a treacherous last few days. It was not long before we entered the Salar De Uyuni and once we had decided on an island to head for in the far distance, seemingly floating due to the bizarre landscape, we put our heads down and really enjoyed ourselves. The freedom was awesome; no constraints from verges or curb stones or cliff edges,
no vehicles and no hills. This meant that we could cycle with our eyes shut for example, and if on opening them we had veered off the bearing, we could simply adjust and come at the island from a different angle. It was not all plain sailing however... It soon became apparent that we were aiming for the wrong island. Slightly disheartened that we still had 25kms to go, we ploughed on regardless with a gentle tail wind. Finally we got to the island, Isla Incahuasi, in pretty good time though not such good fashion...On approaching the island, I tried to avoid an ostrich like animal, took my eyes off the road, hit a clump of sand and was completely thrown off the bike. The only damage done was to my ego, as this was the first accident I had had, and there were several spectators watching my comedy arrival.
Raphael had suggested in La Paz to three of his friends who are travelling by jeep, that we met up with them "in the middle of the salt flats in ten days". It just so happened that we arrived there on the said day and in the right place
and we were delighted to discover that they had bought us each a beer, in the hope that we turned up. The island was very small with only a restaurant and a small, hilly walk to its peak where one can watch the sun set...It is also home to some really impressive giant cacti. We all had a very enjoyable meal and headed under cover of darkness to the other side of the island where we could rest in shelter from a howling gale that had descended upon the flats. A nice campfire and a tentless sleep went down very well. Raphael´s mates suggested they act as a support vehicle for the following day and take our panniers to our next destination, Uyuni. This provided us with an epic days cycling. It took us three hours to cycle 96kms, so we were in no rush to finish the salt flats. As you may have noticed, we thought we ought to take some arty photos, as we were there. We were now on an highwaylike surface and soon came across a tourists´favourite on the salt, a Salt Hotel. We spent very little time here, as it was covered with arrogant-looking young
travellers, so we had a quick ice cold coke and finished the journey to Uyuni. The 15kms from the flats to Uyuni were horrible but bearable, partly thanks to the weightless bikes. Uyuni is a typically touristic town with a main plaza and plenty of eateries catering for the weastern tourist. It is the main stepping stone for people who want to take a tour around the salt flats and other such wonders of the area. We did not need a stepping stone, just a bike.
So that is that. We are on the final stretch now having done 2332km, with perhaps 400 to go. After some internet research, we have discovered that the road to the Argy border is, not surprisingly terrible so thats something we have to look forward to over the next few days. I am reliably informed by Ross that we are about to enter the area of Butch Cassidy´s demise, so we are expecting an interesting journey. Until next time, good bye.
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alan bishton
non-member comment
great work
hi guys sounds like you guys are having a very interesting time out there. lots of hard work, rather you than me. great photos, and great commentary. hope to see you back soon bill, all in 1 piece. till then goodbye bish