Tafi de Valle, Northern Argentina 10/6/2010

Odometer 7155.3

I got on the road a little later than planned; as the cycle club kept me up till 02:00 I only got as far as Tafi de Valle, but what a great ride. The day started out cold and wet and turned to wet and cold and rainy, but none of that mattered. After arriving in Tafi de Valle, I was standing next to my bike looking at the map contemplating what to do, when Oscar, the director of the tour office pulled over in his car and asked if I needed help. He directed me to a little hostel that was neat and clean and had indoor parking for my bike. He made recommendations on where to eat. He also noticed that my license plate was missing, a fatality of the accident. He made arrangements with the local police to write a formal letter excusing me from having to replace it. (Yahh, Kathy K, I could use a little help on that one. Even 1000’s of miles away it is not what you know, but who you know.)

The above photos are of the canyon, again on my napkin map, I passed through on my way to Salta. They are:1-just out of Tafi de Valle, 2-the ruins at Quilmes,3-the vine yards outside of Cayfate, 4-the canyon on the decent to Salta. What a great ride.

Uncle Walter

Happy Birthday to Schnikelfritzy and Sister Mary Marge MT!!!!!!!

 

 

 

 

La Rioja, Northern Argentina 7/6/2010


Odometer: 6887.3


I arrived in La Rioja with plenty of daylight and time to find a really good mechanic. I went to talk to the local bolt store to look for some information. I still needed t extract the two pieces of bolt sheared off in the accident. He told me about the local motorcycle mechanic, Jaime. This turned out to be great stroke of luck. Jamie is the mechanic of the local motorcycle club. He and his helpers, Leo and Nicolai, went over my bike from head to toe. They tapped out the pieces, replaced the bolts, washed the bike, changed the oil, checked all the fluids, tightened all the bolts, changed the rear tire, changed the cracked mirrors, invited me to lunch at his house, invited me to the weekly Wednesday night motorcycle dinner and BS session, paid for dinner and drinks, and would not take any payment for all the work. At dinner I met about 8 other motorcycle enthusiasts and I was given a perfect napkin map up to Tafi de Valle and on to Salta. The entire expierence was fantastic! What a stroke of luck. Thanks Jaime! My bike has never had it so good!

The following photos are from the road on the paper napkin map up to Tafi de Valle.

Uncle Walter

Mendoza, Central Argentina. 4/6/2010

Odometer: 6514.0 miles

Valle Alemana, Central Argentina, 3/6/2010 Odometer: 6268.4 miles

Cutting back over the Andes was quite the ride. As I approached the pass between Los Andes, Chile and Mendoza, Argentina the temperatures really began to drop. I had to put the full combat gear back on. At one point as the roar began to climb I looked up in to the snow and ice fields ahead, thought I something move way up there. I thought no way does the road go there. That is not a pass, that is just a climb to the top. As I rounded the last switch-back (#ed 30 by the road signs) I knew I was wrong. Wow, all you could see was snow and ice. The only 2 odors in the air, exhaust from big trucks and their burnt brakes. At one point, inside a two mile tunnel without an exhaust system and bumper to bumper trucks crowding both lanes I thought I might have asthma. What a headache. But, wow, how cool was that road.

The decent into Mendoza was nice and warm. The photo is taken in Argentina looking back up the pass. So far I have only seen a few vineyards, but they have to be somewhere. This is the wine capital of Argentina. I‘ll let you know when I find some.

Uncle Walter

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRISTIN!!

Curico, Central Chile 2-6-2010

Odometer: 6020.4 miles

Los Saltos, Central Chile 1/6/2010 Odometer: 5835.5 miles

As I come North through Chile, from about Pucon to San Fernando and Pichilemu, I can not help but notice the damage done by the earth quake a couple months back. It first can be noticed along the freeway and its bridges, there are road crews at every bridge along the way. Most of the bridges now have at least 2 of the 4 lanes open, though I did come across one that was pedestrian only. The head engineer let me cross with the motorcycle. The main body of the bridge still spanned the 100 yards of river bed, it appeared only the starting and ending sections had fallen. The engineers had built temporary wooden gang planks of 2x10s, 3 planks wide, with wooden hand rails across the short 25 feet sections, out to the main bridge. Only one hand rail had to be pushed over to let the saddle bags fit through. The drop off was only 15 feet or so to the rocks and water below. With the entire road crew watching, I ease the la Poderosa into motion and we cross the planks. There is a lot of give in the planks as they bow under the weight. When I got the bike out onto the main bridge I thought it was all good till I noticed that at each expansion joint of the bridge was gapped about half a foot not half an inch, and sometimes the road surface was raised or lowered 2 to 3 inches across the gaps. It was strange going over the wide and uneven bottomless canyons, dust and debris falling towards the river 20 some feet down below. I thought “this ain’t Iowa.”

In the town of Curico, the damage is quite noticeable. At least one, if not 2 buildings, per block is completely down or severely damaged beyond repair. The hostel I stayed in still had ½ the roof missing. Most people seem content and are trying to rebuild.

One cute part of the day came after lunch. I had just finished eating and was giving my bike the simple pre-start check when I felt eyes watching me. I looked up to see a young boy’s face peering at me through the back window of a school bus, stopped at a red light. His big black eyes in full stare. I make a funny face. He makes one back. I up the ante a little. He triples it with a full on pig nose, fingers in his mouth and tongue out. Not to be out done, I set my helmet down and really contort my face adding shoulders and back into it. He taps his buddy on the shoulder and now two little faces start in. I begin to contemplate my next move as to not be out done. Then, as if on cue, the light turns green and the bus lurches forward. Two small foreheads whack the glass. Four little eyes start to water. All three faces involved start laughing, enjoying the moment, and then all 3 faces contort one more time, giving it one last college try. The bus rounds the corner and I can’t see them anymore. I think, “This could be Iowa.” Huh TVG?

Uncle Walter

The 2 photos are of a canyon outside of Curico where they are dumping all the destroyed buildings. Most are adobe. A bull dozer comes past every so many days and pushes it all over the edge.

Los Lagos, El Districto Los Lagos, Chile 30/52010

Odometer: 5529.8 miles

Puerto Mont, Chile 29-5-2010 Odometer: 5330.7 miles

It was a perfect day for a ride through the Lake District of Chile. The sun was out and the temperatures soared up into the 30’s. I was able to remove the inner-liners of my road combat gear (that was a first since Rio Gallegos). By the time I reached Los Lagos a heavy fog had set in and the sun was getting low. I pulled into a local hostel and they said they were closed and sent my off to Los Suisos. It is a little place 8 kms out of town, run by a guy from Switzerland. He was a bit a miss that I was in central Chile in late May on a motorcycle. I told him about my good buddies, K2 logistics and US customs and the wasted 7 weeks. He asked about the duct tape. I explained. He said not to worry; he would give me a good price. So, for $12.00/day I got the cabin with the hot running water, a little wood stove and a view.

I decided to stay the day and find the new constant rattle made by La Poderosa. It took awhile, but I found 3 bolts that had been sheared off in the impact back a couple days past. Now, soooo much better.

The last 2 photos show the view off the deck and my little cabin.

Off to wine country.

Uncle Walter

Chaiten, El Distritico de los Lagos, Chile 28-5-2010

Odometer: 5,321.3 miles

Chaiten is a stepping stone into or out of Patagonia. The road ends here and you either ferry in or ferry out of Patagonia. It should be a thriving community. But, it looks like a ghost town. 2 years and 2 months ago the local volcano erupted and the flow of ash and debris down the volcano changed the course of the river. The river now flows through town. This cut off electricity and water to the town. Everyone is still without. The federal government will not help. The state government will not help. The local government brings non-drinkable water once or twice a week to fill your tank if you have one. Drinking water is bottled. Electricity is by generator if you have one. The majority of those who have stayed go without. The real majority have already given up and left. It is really quite sad.

However, in this town there was one restaurant open. I went in. The family that runs the restaurant was sitting in a circle around the wood stove. The grandmother, the mom, and the 9 year old daughter were all sitting on a couch with a quilt spread on their laps. Grandma and mom working needles, Maria Jose sitting between them, holding balls of thread. The grandfather had his own chair and was tending the fire. They invited me in and had me sit down at the table closest to the fire, closing the circle. Grandma, the head cook, insisted I have the steak dinner, as she just butchered the cow yesterday. I agreed. Mom and grandma went to the kitchen to prepare the food, leaving Grandpa, Maria Jose and I to chat.

At first Grandpa and I did all the talking. It centered on the towns destruction. Maria Jose just sat quiet and listened, eager to talk, but never did. Finally I got around to asking her a question or two and she really took off. She didn’t stop for about 45 minutes. Grandpa never corrected her and I just encouraged her. The subjects ran from the fish to the dolphins to whales she had seen in the bay out the window, to her class, her friends, her grades {6.8 out of 7, second highest in her class, here grandpa nodded with a big smile}, to wild plants she finds in the hills outside of town. The entire time grandpa just listened and said nothing. Then the subject touched a chord that got grandpa involved, Maria Jose’s boyfriends, all 3.

The conversation went something like this:

UW-- Cuantos novios tienes?
MJ-- No tengo.
UW—Es un nombre raro.
MJ—Ninguno.
UW—Entiendo. Tienes dos. Uno se llama Notengo y el otro se llama Ninguno.
MJ—No. Cero.

And here she shows me the “ok” sign, index finger and thumb making the “o” and her last three digits flared upward and spread outward.
I count them for her, touching each finger as I count.

UW—Uno, dos, tres. Notengo, Ninguno, Cerro. Si, entiendo. Tres Novios. Wow!
MJ—Nooooooo.
GP—Estas muy joven para tener un novio y ya tienes tres! Espero que to mama’ no lo sepa.
MJ. Nooooooo.
GP—Por suerte.
MJ—Noooooooo.
UW—Cuales de estos le gusta jugar fut?
MJ—Ninguno.
UW—Solo Ninguno?
MJ—Cero.
UW—Y Notengo?
MJ—Noooooo.
GP—Quien es el mas gaupo?

With the last question MJ pulls the quilt over her head, just like the peanuts character Linus. Grandpa and I had a good laugh. After a bit MJ pulled the quilt back smiling.

Uncle Walter

PS. The steak was delicious. Oh yah, Syd and Beeser, now that school is out and you have nothing better to do, can you get that translated quick? People are waiting. Thanks! Love you both. UW

Puyuhaupi, Patagonia, Chile 27/5/10

Odometer: 5200.4 miles

The road to Puyuhaupi {pronounced Puyuhaupi} from Coihaique was the best so far. It was spectacular. It took all day to make it 140 miles. Between leaving late because of the freezing temperatures to getting off the bike every mile or 2 take a picture I ended up arriving in Puyuhaupi after dark. Oooooops. Bad Uncle Walter.

At one point the road was tar and really slowed me down. It went through a canyon along a class 3 white water river. The canyon ran mostly east to west, the sun at mid day is due north and the mountains block the sun from drying the road. The temperatures remained in the mid teens. The temperature of the river was above freezing. The mist coming off the river created a heavy fog and frost. The trees, plants, road signs, and road all were covered white. Gorgeous. My helmet fogged first, then my mirrors, windshield, and then me. Never saw anything like it before. As I drove 5 mph for 10 miles the only voice I could hear was Pop’s. “That looks dangerous, better let me do it.” As I tried to coast to a stop to take a picture the words changed, not the voice, “just keep driving ya dumb a##. “ At one point there was a 4 wheel drive SUV upside down in the road and a wrecker trying to right it. I thought “appropriate vehicles for appropriate circumstances, ya dumb a##!” Right pops!

Uncle Walter

PS. Dr. Grau, I hope the above pronunciation guide helped.

Happy Birthday Cocobean!