From Chile into Argentina Again...

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Here we are back in Argentina haveing experienced the magnificant San Francisco Pass as it just unfolded in a spectacular dusting of colour and texture, terminating in the pit of Fiambala....
We have two entries for the blog, one from Mike and one from Keith, thanks guys.
We left Fiambala, as did everyone else, but with Gerardo, Lance, Zane and me riding North to Santa Maria to retreive Alec's moto. We slept overnight in Santa Maria, as it is just under 1,000km return for us to get back to La Rioja to catch up with everyone else that rode direct from Fiambala, NOBODY was keen to spend another day or night in that godforsaken place. A bit of border feaver has set in as we are now on the home run, but there is still more adventure to unfold....
At the moment I still have trouble with the photos, but bear with me. Cheers, Rosco

Hola,

Left Arica bound for Iquique on the Northern Chilean Coast. After an excursion to the City centre in Arica to change money from Peruvian to Chilean, we departed heading South as confirmed by my bike compass on a coastal road which soon petered out into a gravel track. Lost after 20mins??? What a worry and what a mystery as to why these guys keep wanting me to lead. After some backtracking, a gas stop and a helpful gas station attendant pointing out correct directions to a bunch of lost Gringos.. we were on our way South down Routa 5 a.ka. the Pan American highway. All was normal as we passed truck after truck and climbed to 1000m into the Atacama desert region which has no recorded rainfall...ever - and man does it look like it. This area is all shades of only brown with huge rock areas side by side with equally huge sand dunes. A fantastic sealed windy road up and down and with amazing scenery kept us interested until we came upon a recent truck accident where a fully laden truck descending a steep pass had lost control and hit an equally laden ascending truck head on.It appeared the descending driver survived but it didnt appear as though the ascending driver did. Greg (TL) spent an hour or so assisting with traffic control and helped avert any further accident as it all occured in a relatively steep windy area with a huge truck passing every few minutes.

Onwards into the Atacama with km after km of sleep inspiring black top interspersed with the occassional curve, descent and ascent. After around 220kms we reached a turnoff to Pisagua a small Nitrate mining village on the coast we had been recommended to visit for a lunch stop. Alan, Keith & myself decided this was worth investigation and so after around 30kms on a windy sealed road heading westwards, we were back on gravel for our descent into the village. After around 10kms of cliff edge gravel & sand track we descended into Neuva Pisagua for a lunch stop. Goodness knows what Viejo (Old) Pisagua was like as the new version was the most dilapidated, run down place you have ever seen. Once a thriving nitrate mining (birdshit) centre it is now a fishing village with a police station, a navy house (the flashest building) and many buildings with "keep out" notices posted due to imminent collapse. After running into a member of the Armada de Chile (Navy) in the main street we found a restaurant (the only one in town) where we were able to have a cheese sandwich and a coffee whilst chatting with the friendly helpful owner in Pidgin English/Spanish. Her closest neighbour was a late middle age guy who was badly in need of a shave and some serious orthodontic work who communicated with us by peering out of one of many holes in the walls of his house, intermittently shouting, gesticulating or just leering at us. Shades of "Boo" Radley...(Harper Lee's - To Kill a Mocking Bird). I considered throwing rocks at him but decided this wouldn't have enhanced NZ/Chile reñationships! After our cheese sandwich we decided the time was right to leave before Clint Eastwood rode into town and called us out for a gun fight.....

After backtracking to the P.A highway we suddenly realised this extra diversion had stretched our petrol resources seriously, so we started looking intently for a gas station. I slipstreamed Alan at constant revs for km after km in a fully aerodynamic crouch trying to eke out the last km. Mirages aside, in this part of the world gas stations are few and far between so when we rolled into Hauri a medium sized town we were relieved to be informed by another friendly local that, yes gas was available in a back street down there, turn right then left & right again etc etc. After stretching our gas resources even further (and being harassed by countless dogs whose sole entertainment seemed to be chasing Motos) we discovered that this particular gas staion was a workshop where the proprietor kept a stock of dubious looking petrol in plastic jerry cans. No matter... we needed it as much as he looked like he needed the $NZ5/ litre approx he charged us for it. Down the P. A highway towards Iquique we found a real gas station at Posos where we topped up and tried to buy a few litres of the oil they had on display which we desparately needed. Unfortunately the guy who controlled the oil stocks had gone for the day/week or maybe year taking the key for the oil cabinet with him. Not to be deterred we found a Lubricante Shop further up the road and managed to buy some oil after bashing on the door and rousing the proprietor from his siesta.
Onwards to Iquique, we descended into this coastal city down a sophisticated motorway between a huge rock face on one side and equally impressive sand dunes on the other. After the mandatory tour of part of the town we found our hotel and repaired to the bar to discuss the day over a cold Cerveza (or 2).

Our hotel was tired but in a fantastic location on the edge of a peninsula looking back towards the city over a spectacular surf beach with a couple of dozen fishing boats swinging at their moorings below our balcony. Never satisfied we found a better quality hotel next door where the floors were marble, the Pisco Sours were great and the service was at a level we aspired to together with the same view. The prices were cheap, average or dear depending on our understanding of the exchange rate ($US/Bolivianos to Peruvian Soles/ $US and back to Chilean pesos)- our heads were economically spinning! We soon remedied this by converting this spinning to a Pisco Sour/Cerveza/Vino Tino inspired spin. A much more enjoyable confusion. A fantastic meal followed by a nights sleep at sea level!

What a day the next turned out to be! - starting out well enough with an easy departure from Iquique onto Routa 1 heading South towards Tocopilla, the road followed the coast, generally an excellent sealed road with the occassional roadworks but definitely a "highway pegs" day. We cruised for km after km, feet on the highway pegs, slowing to 100kph for fast easy corners, humming the theme tune to Easy Rider and keeping a sharp look out for Good ole Boys in utes with gun racks! The pacific ocean on one side, people harvesting seawood by the truck load, a port at one point which appeared to be loading tankers with something through pipes (maybe iron sand slurry ??) and on the left hand side of the road as many hues of brown and only brown as you can imagine. How can the scenery and conditions be so different to NZ only on the other side of the pond we were riding past? Maybe something to do with El Nino, El Ninya, global warming, sea currents or whatever - I must email Ken Ring and ask him!

The inhabitants of the infrequent villages we passed may all be good catholics however they don´t appear to have read the bible lately judging by the groups of houses built on sand between the road and the sea.The wise men seemed to have opted for living in containers on the hill to the left of the road, slightly rockier but still a lot of sand. We continued clicking off the kms (at one point passing a "Country Club Golf Course" (which as far as I could see possessed not one blade of grass) before having to stop at Rio Loa where we were checked out of the tax free zone of Iquique, producing our documents to show that we were taking the same moto out as we had bought in the day before. Lots of official stamps, studying our documents but it all seemed rather pointless as they didnt physically check the documents against the motos. Never mind its South America and paperwork is for stamping and filing not for serving a useful purpose!

Onwards into Tocopilla (apparantely voted the worst city in Chile - believe me deservedly) passing some sort of fish processing plant or market judging by the smell. We gassed up and decided to have an early lunch at a roadside "cafe" however we couldnt get to a table for the flies who appeared to have a monopoly on all tables occupied or not, so we opted to carry on. More of the same scenery as we headed further and further south until after around 320kms and still 110kms from our destination of Antofagasta my bike decided to start missing and then cut our all together. Tom our Luxemboug aircraft engineer and Rosco stopped to assist and we intially diagnosed an electrical fault as it appeared to start and run ok if we wiggled the spark plug cap and assorted wires under the tank. Tom kept mentioning the excitor (Rosco & I thought he must be really missing Nadine) however turns out that this is the new age replacement for a coil on a modern bike. After spending 45minutes or so removing the tank and fairing, replacing the spark plug, dismantling the spark plug cap, checking all the plug connections etc we discovered (through a process of elimination also commonly known as desperation) that the problem lay in the fuel filter which only took 5 minutes to clean and reassemble. A reassembly job on the tank and fairing and we were on the road again after spending nearly an hour diagnosing a problem that took only 5 minutes to fix. Hey... thats adventure motorcycling (A big thanks to Tom and Rosco for their help and humour which kept it all on the straight and narrow).

Riding the last 110kms into Antofagasta (apparantely the location of the world's largest copper mine) we experienced no problems and even located the hotel without too much aimless circling of the city. A pisco sour or 2 on the balcony overlooking the harbour, a walk through the downtown area and a meal to celebrate Klaus' birthday got all the priorities reassembled and we started to look forward to our 560km ride tomorrow - our biggest yet!


Left Antofagasta early (8am) and set off for a big day. The road soon climbed into the Atacama region again, not high, only about 2000m maximum, but brown, brown, brown, etc. The road streaked across the desert with sand, rocks, mountains and nothing much else for 100s of kms. Our first stop was at the "Mano en el Desierto" (hand in the desert) an interesting statue around 8m high in the shape of a hand. Not sure what it signifies - apparantely constructed in 1992... but sure looks odd protruding out of the desert. Later we stopped after around 200kms to get gas and buy the national drink (Coke) which the only restaurant was out of - so on we went. Arriving into the coastal town of Chanaral after 400kms, we were stopped by a police check point. A scruffy looking cop/detective in dirty jeans and tee shirt (with a police badge hanging around his neck) checked our licences and then searched my luggage and one bag of Alans. Not sure what they were looking for but whatever it was we didnt have it so they waved us on. Lunch at a beachside restaurant on a very nice deserted white sand beach and then we were back on the road for the last 160kms.

The climate seemed cooler here and there were some scrubby plants growing on the side of the road (first we have seen for 2 days) but generally sand interspersed with rocks. The coast was ruggedly beautiful mainly with a rocky shoreline and occassionally a sandy beach. We passed the odd village of houses (all built on sand) and the sand dunes stretched away from the road toward the mountains for 1 to around 15kms. The mountains were a mixture of sand and rocks bereft of vegetation and the whole effect (as it was the day before) is barren and brown, brown and more brown. Imagine travelling for over 900kms over 2 days and except for a little in the citys we have not seen a blade of grass!

All day we had been passing and overtaking trucks - the number on the roads here is unbelievable. They get along at 100 to 120 kph on the flat and must cause a lot of maintenance on the roads which most in Chile seem to be in excellent condition. The amount of roadworks taking place is incredible but it doesnt effect open road flow as generally they build a completely new temporary road off to one side (plenty of spare desert) whilst they repair an existing road or build a completely new one.

Arriving in Copiapo still in the Atacama region I did a few aimless loops of the city due to a severe shortage of signs and then eventually found our hotel. As usual we had a walk around the town and the as usual beautiful plaza/square with a grand statue in the middle. Pisco sours in the hotel bar was followed by a seafood restaurant recommended by the Hotel Manager (another superb meal) and an early night in preparation for another 480km day tomorrow including a 4700m pass and a border crossing into Argentina.

Hasta la vista, Mooy Bueno!!

Mike V


Thoughts from Keith....

We are back in Chile, after going over the Paso de San Fransisco at 4720 mtrs, the third of 4 crossings of the Andes.

On that first magical day in the Andes over 4 weeks ago, at over 4800 mtrs in the Paso de Agua Negro, with wobbly legs and short of breath, little did we know that we would be riding over 4000 mtrs for many days during the next 2 weeks. That ride was the highlight of the trip fpr me so far, the mountains and the colours unbelieveable.

The previous night just 3 of us made our accom. just on dark, and were worried about all the others 'out there' some where. They all arrived in one's and two's, and we joked about the 'tour of Chile by Night'. We did not know then that we would also experience Argentina, Bolivia, and Peru by night, after long days riding! Fantastic!

Then down into Argentina. The scale of the country breathtaking. Up through Argentina, and our own 'Road of Death' - a mining road climbing over 3,000 mtrs with sheer drops, no berms and some tricky riding in light rain. Clearing the road of fallen rocks for our chase truck to pass - real adventuring!

Back over the Andes into Chile over Paso de Jamos, again 4700 mtrs, with views over Chile forever, then an unbelievable ride down, steeply down too, for 150 kms! Ah.. 5 star accom. Just settled into one of the 6 pools with a beer, and we are told Chile customs is looking for us. Back to the border to a stern customs lady. A little eye lash fluttering and we had her helping us with the incomplete paper work.

Back up Paso de Jamos and into Bolivia. Oh Bolivia. Stunning scenery, Pink Flamingo's, blue alpine lakes, the famous (to motorcyclists) desert Rock Tree featured in BMW brochures, and the desert sand tracks - 2 days of picking up fallen BMW's! All this after a border crossing at 5020 mtrs ( I was close to loosing the plot after 30 mins there!). Bolivia - great to have been there, better to leave. The towns are filthy. Hard to understand the lack of basic common sence and hygene. And the bloody dogs!

Peru - wonderfull. Again scenery fantastic, Lake Titicaca, Machu Piccu, and great riding. Got a bit sick and went on a drip for a morning. Oh well...Peru is indeed a special place.

Back to Chile, and now back in Argentina, over 8,000 kms later.

It has been a wonderfull adventure, with the best riding of my life.

Highs and lows.
Highs - the people, so friendly - mobbed in Peru and Argentina several times. People 'appear' in the most unusual places. 100 kms up some remote track and a person would magically appear. Doing what - going where, who knows, but always returning a freindly wave.
People with next to nothing but doing their best...
The wonderful vista's. We just never knew what was around the next corner. Words cannot express...
The riding- absolute once in a lifetime.
A very well organised and supported 'tour' by Ross and Gerado.

Lows - dogs (the scourge of Sth America). I was the only one to actually get bitten so far - fortunately it grabbed my boot, but I got such a fright I lifted it right up off the road attached to my boot.
The filth of Bolivian towns.
A week or 2 with runny bottom...........
Missing some magic photo opportunities: Picture 2 kids of 5 or so, holding hands in front of their parents shack in remote rural Peru, in perfect white uniforms, waiting for the schools bus, and waiving as I rode by. Magic.
A liitle girl, way way up the Andes in Peru at a Condor Eagle lookout, with her pet Llama twice her own size, and grasping the 1 NSoles coin Mike gave her as if her life depended on it (maybe it did...)

So here we are in La Rioja, on the edge of the Andes, with 3 days riding to Vina Del Mar Chile to pack up our bikes. Where have 4 weeks gone? A week today and I will be home!

It certainly has had it's challenges, but a once in a lifetime experience.

So, see you soon!

Keith.






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