It's windy in Patagonia!
Just as the copyrighters had portrayedGetting there
Jacqui and I live in Sydney Australia, so flying almost anywhere takes at least 15hrs. To get to Santiago, however, the flight is only 12½hrs - hardly enough time to catch a movie and enjoy a glass or two of red wine. Being delayed on the tarmac for 2 hours, though, meant that our 14½hr flight was uncomfortably close to the typical 15hr journey from Australia to, well, almost anywhere!
My only memories from the flight were of severe turbulence over New Zealand and that Jacqui's vegetarian status has somehow failed to attach itself to her ticket - note to self: be sure to check this for all future flights.
Jacqui received Spanish lessons from 2 of our travelling companions - Rosita from Buenos Aires (shown) and a lady in the row behind from Colombia
Our first view of the Andes and Santiago - they are there somewhere!
Santiago
The airport at Santiago was deserted. The only queue was to pay a $117USD reciprocity fee. The immigration officer was so busy talking to her friend that we could have been a pair of koalas attempting to start a feral colony in the Andes - she didn't even glance at us while stamping our passports.
Getting through customs was almost as easy except for a delay while Jacqui's backpack was searched for vegetables. Somehow Jacqui's status as a vegetarian had magically transferred itself from her Qantas ticket to the Chilean custom's most wanted list!
We had arrived in Chile
A Hyundai shuttle bus took us to our accommodation and rendezvous point - the San Sebastian Apartments. On the way our driver gave me a lesson in the sprited and cavalier driving techniques of the locals - such as ignoring double lines and speed limits - that I would soon master on our journey to Ushuaia.
Even though it was mid morning in Santiago, our bodies insisted that it was well after our bed time, so we had a brief sleep before venturing out on foot to explore Santiago.
The enthusiasm of the park gardeners explained why the parks were pretty rough. To be fair, they probably didn't have enough funds to do a good job and it was very hot ...
The young of Santiago were enthusiastic users of their parklands, taking advantage of the shade to get to know each other better - Jacqui's described what they were doing as "snogging!"
The Mapocho River flows through the centre of Santiago. We were surprised by its chocolate brown colour and that its channel was constrained by concrete
Returning to our apartment at around 7pm we decided that this was a good time to eat. We soon learnt that the locals eat late, and given that sunset is around 9.30pm, who'd blame them. It took us a while but we found a restaurant that was open and were their first patrons for the evening.
Our first meal in Chile. There's nothing like a thirst to help one learn the local lingo - during this meal I picked up a handy phrase: una copa más de vino por favor - or another glass of wine please. The pinot noir was excellent and we were in the mood to celebrate
Getting a good night sleep is difficult when your body clock is 14hrs ahead of local time. We were, though, able to get to sleep at a reasonable time - probably assisted by too much pinot. But, when we were woken at 4am by construction work on an adjacent building, we weren't happy! Exhaustion lulled us back to sleep and we struggled down to breakfast at 9am. Everything was nice except for the coffee - which was abyssmal - something we had to get used to (a friend of mine from Canada once told me that Australians are "coffee snobs" - and he's right.)
Jacqui loves zoos, so given that we would be pursuing my passion for motorcycles for the next 3 weeks I could hardly complain about a trip to the National Zoo. We spent the afternoon feeling a lot like mad dogs and Englishhmen being out in the midday sun. We felt sorry for the many parents with children in strollers as there were no ramps, only stairs and the zoo clings to the steep flanks of what appears to be an extinct volcano.
Taking refuge from the sun near the exotic parrots exhibition Jacqui engaged a young woman doing research into the mating behaviours of the parrots for her final year's study to become a vet.
Jacqui put her newly acquired Spanish to the test in the Santiago Zoo attempting to find out the names and nature of the local critters.
To speed up our return to our apartment, we took the underground where the trains run on rubber tyres making the ride smooth and quiet. We couldn't praise the staff at the stations enough - they did not speak English but were very patient making sure we boarded the correct train. They also warned me to wear my backpack on my chest to make it more difficult for pick pockets.
Meeting our fellow expeditioners
When the phone rang at 6.02pm we were still in our room. It was Eduardo, one of the Compass Expedition’s tour leaders, wanting to know why we weren't in the lobby at 6.00pm for our first official expedition activity. Fair warning to be on time in future!
Meeting our fellow expidtioners was like a first day in a new class at school - sitting around a conference table, everyone was subdued. Eduardo instructed us on local road rules, what to do if we get separated from the group, how to ride in gravel (factually inaccurate, but that's another story) and we signed many disclaimers, waivers and promises to pay Compass Expeditions for anything we damaged - some of which came back to bite us at the end of the trip.
Standing Left to Right: Jo (AUS), Jackie & Roy (USA), Jacqui and me (AUS), David(AUS) John B(USA), Mike Rabb(US), Cheryl (CAN).
Kneeling or lying left to right: John A (USA), Sarsha - lying (AUS), Roberto (ITL, but living in Sao Paulo), Mike L (CAN) Photos not taken by Ian will be credited: Photo Jo
We started to get to know each other during the noisy dinner that followed the briefing. Compass paid for this meal, including pisco sours and local malbec wines which became the signature drinks during our time together. There was a pent-up sense of excitement around the table - let's face it, we were all beginning a 3 week journey on motorcycles to the bottom of South America. Encouragingly, I wrote in my diary, that "at first glance Jacqui and I thought they were a good bunch."
If you take 13 strangers and have them spend 3 weeks in close proximity there is bound to be some tense moments. Fortunately, the more we got to know our fellow expeditioners, the more comfortable we felt in their company. Sure, not everyone shared our world view - that would be weird, wouldn't it? - but we did all have a passion for motorcycles, travel and a growing catalogue of shared experiences. If any conversation looked like straying onto contested ground it was easily steered back to our adventure - or truncated by donning a helmet, mounting a BMW F700GS and slipping back onto Ruta 40.
Santiago to Pucón
The trip proper begins in Pucón (to see these places on a map, scroll down to the end of the post). To get there we first had to fly 1½hrs south to Temuco. Everyone was in the lobby of our Santiago accommodation waiting for our transfer to the airport at 5:45am, as instructed - Eduardo had made an impression! Unfortunately the bus drivers didn't get the memo and were late - one had arrived early, parked around the corner and fell asleep.
In Temuco we picked up the last 2 expeditioners - John Bergstrom and John Anderson from the USA - and Alain Dupuis the driver of our support vechicle and tour co-leader. From there it was a 1½hr bus trip to Pucón - providing more time to get to know those sitting next to us on the bus.
Pucón is dominated by Lago Villarrica and volcán Villarrica. Bottom right photo of Jo and the volcán. Photo Sarsha
Our hotel in Pucón was described by Jackie as "rustic" which is a euphemism for decrepit. There was a nice grassed courtyard where we congregated to continue getting to know each other. Photo Sarsha
With a free afternoon many of us took a tour on Largo Villarrica. Photo Sarsha
Riders - meet your bikes
The next morning we took a short bus ride to meet our bikes. On the way I sat in one of the front seats trying to imagine that I was riding. On a few occasions I was surprised when the bus went the "wrong way" around a roundabout, traffic lights weren't where I expected them to be and more than once I looked the wrong way at an intersection. This was a sobering exercise and I resolved to keep reminding myself to keep right!
We turned down a dusty lane and bumped into the backyard of a private house - the owner was scooping leaves from his swimming pool and our BMW F700GSs and one F800GS (for Roy and Jackie) were ready to meet us.
Bike handover - someone's backyard
Each of us was allocated a bike, in our case a grey BMW F700GS with Chilean registration IC240 (hereafter called IC240.) For the next hour we were briefed on the bikes and given an opportunity to inspect them closely. IC240 had dented rims, a scratched fuel tank, mauled bark busters, warning lights that remained on and tyre pressure sensors that read zero. I transferred these observations to a condition report that would be used to determine if any damage liability was payable at the end of the ride. The maximum liability was $4000USD, but we'd bought extra insurance to reduce ours to $1000USD - still a total easily reached given the costs of BMW parts in S. America.The paperwork and condition of the bikes made us feel trepidation about the next 3,500 Km.
Co tour leader Alain at the bike hand over contemplating another 3 weeks on the road to Ushuaia with a bunch of strangers
L-R Eduardo (tour leader on the bike), Sarsha, Jo and Alain at the bike hand over and rider briefing
Mike Rabb (Mike R) and Jo during the bike hand over and rider briefing - I'd guess they are wondering how they are going to pay for any damage they do to their bikes
Eduardo lays down the law during the bike hand over. David captures the scene
The biggest problem we had with IC240 was that the distance between the pillion seat and pillion pegs was shorter than on my F800GSA, meaning that Jacqui's knees bent at a more acute angle making long periods in the saddle uncomfortable for her. I write in my diary, that "all in all it was a fine bike that was more than capable for the road ahead. It was in good condition given that it had probably done this ride 6-8 times already."
Everyone suited up and we rode back down the dusty lane to the main road where we queued for fuel at a service station. An attendant filled all bikes sequentially from the same bowser, then Alain paid one bill. This simplified the process for Compass, but added to the time we waited at service stations - oh well, more time to get to know each other and compare riding notes.
While I was waiting for my turn at the bowser I pointed out to Eduardo that the handlebars on IC240 were askew. He grunted, gripped the front wheel between his legs and wrenched the bars straight. Getting a bit ahead of myself, that was the only problem I had with my bike throughout the trip.
With tanks full, we followed Eduardo like ducks following their mother, on a 10Km, gravel road shake-down ride to Lake Caburgua. There's always one duckling who takes a different route and this time it was Mike Rabb who had two low speed "lie downs" in the soft gravel of the road's verge. While they didn't show it, I suspect Eduardo and Alain were worried about Mike R and the next 3,500km ride, much of which is on gravel roads.
Lago Caburua, first stop on our shakedown ride. Photo Sarsha
On the way back to our hotel we stopped for lunch at a roadside stall selling empanadas - these are common in Chile and Argentina and many of these establishments attract stray dogs, as did this one. Mike Limebeer took away a less ephemeral memento of this lunch stop when his empanada squirted a big dollop of oil onto the right knee of his riding pants. Not only did that stain survive the entire journey, but it grew in prominence by acting as a dust magnet.
Volcán Villarrica
After returning to our hotel we had the afternoon and the BMWs to ourselves. Jacqui was keen to see volcán Villarrica - the gently smoking volcano that dominates Pucón - and its lava tubes. John B (Bergstrom) agreed to accompany us. Upon leaving the town the road changed to badly corrugated dirt. Stopping to take a photo we parked on the gravel verge that was so soft the rear wheel buried itself up to the axle when we attempted to get back on the road. We regained the road by pushing rather than riding. As the road's quality deteriorated further, I insulated myself from the worst of the bumps by standing up - for Jacqui there was often insufficient warning that a big bump was approaching and she suffered many spinal compressions. In the diary I note that after 14Km on this road, Jacqui's mind was made up and she would ride in the backup vehicle when the roads are rough like this one. I couldn't blame her.
Jacqui and John B on the flanks of volcán Villarrica
To join a tour of the lava tubes we paid $18,000 CLP(Chilean peso) or about $25USD each. The lava tube we entered was 250m long having been formed during the 1998 eruption. Lava around the edges still showed ripples from when it was molten, like lake water in a gentle breeze. The guide gave his commentary in Spanish and then repeated it in English for the 3 of us. He spoke at length about why the volcano was there (plate technics) and how the lava tubes formed. What really grabbed our attention was how areas of Pucón could be destroyed during the next eruption. Residents are warned of an approaching lava flow or explosive eruption with sirens. Around the town there are many signs with maps, which we had seen but not understood, showing where to escape lava flows in the event of an eruption. During the 1998 eruption a car-sized boulder had been ejected from Villarrica landing 40km away - running anywhere during an eruption may be futile!
Solidified lava from the 1998 eruption with flow ripples still clearly visibile
Our tour group descends into a lava tube formed when volcán Villarrica erupted in 1998. Jacqui looking like a construction worker follows John B who is carrying his distinctive Aerostich motorcycle gear
Before the tour ended, Jacqui asked a pertinent question - "How often does Villarrica erupt and when was the last eruption?" The answer - every 14 years and the last one was in 1998. There was silence as each of us did the sums - the next eruption was 2 years overdue.
On March 13, 2015, just 3 months after we were there, Villarrica erupted. "The eruption exceeded the height of the volcano, causing a loud explosion that woke the neighbors, and forcing the evacuation of 3,385 people in nearby communities." (Source Wikipedia).
Villarrica erupts March 2015 - Source: The Altlanic, December 16 2015
An erosion gully that shows recent lava flows(grey) overlying sand like volcanic ash (yellow/brown) from earlier explosive eruptions. The trees appear to be either small and young or large and damaged, possibly by the 1998 eruption. Largo Villarrica is in the distance
Pucón to Bariloche
We didn't need an alarm clock this morning because at 5:45am the couple in the room above us decided to, well, couple. The paper thin floors and walls meant we weren't spared any details and they continued, uninhibited, for the next hour. At first we were amused, then embarrassed, then bored and finally angry. There was no way we could get back to sleep and at one stage Jacqui threatened to hit the ceiling with her boot, but I stopped her. In retrospect I'm not sure why.
After breakfast everyone was dressed for riding. We loaded our luggage into the cavernous trailer towed by the support vehicle, boarded our bikes and hit the road, this time for real.
The weather was perfect, the bike was singing, Route 199 was smooth and wide as we headed east beside Rio Pucón O Minetue that starts in the Andes, probably in Argentina, where we were heading today.
At the foot of the Andes we were delayed by roadworks and introduced to group riding, organised tour style. Eduardo, on his yellow F650GS and wearing his yellow hi-viz vest, pulled over and calmly walked into the path of the on-coming bikes, directing us to pull over. He'd done this before and the only way anyone could ride past him would have been to run him over. My Australian friend, Steve, is notorious for missing crucial turns and regrouping points, but even he could not have missed Eduardo's directions. The backup vehicle marks the end of the convoy - it must never pass any bike - signalling to Eduardo that everyone was present and correct. Even then he always counted his ducklings.
Eduardo steps out directing everyone to pull over
Eduardo always takes the lead - easily seen in his hi-viz vest. His was the only bike with paniers. Photo Jackie
Jackie pillioning with Roy on the only F800GS in the line-up
The road up into the Andes soon turned twisty and everyone enjoyed the ride. A few kilometres before the border crossing I stopped to take some photos of monkey puzzle trees with volcán Lanin in the background and so became separated from the rest of the group. I knew, though, that the backup car and trailer were still behind me with Alain at the wheel and Jacqui in the passenger seat.
A few km before the Chile/Argentine border where everything was unique to my eye - volcanos and monkey puzzle trees are nowhere to be seen in Australia!
Border crossing #1
Eduardo and Alain had made border crossings into a big thing, probably because for them, with responsibility for all the riders, bikes, cars and spare parts, they can be difficult. One missing item on the inventory or one incorrect document for a rider or their bike could delay the trip for everyone. This, our first crossing, was almost pain free, except for John B who had brought with him a receipt for his reciprocity fee payment rather than the official document. An Argentinian Immigration officer took pity on John and indeed all of us, allowing him access to a computer to print the appropriate document.
We wait at the border while John B's reciprocity fee paperwork was sorted. The yellow F650GS in the middle of the shot is Eduardo's
There are worse places to wait - Sarsha and volcán Lanin. Photo Jo
While we were waiting for John another tour group on R1200GS BMWs arrived. They were part of an Edelweiss tour. All bikes on this tour were fully loaded with luggage making me glad we chose to go with Compass Expeditions with our bulky items stashed in the trailer and not on the back of our bikes.
The border between Chile and Argentina runs down the spine of the Andes, so crossing into Argentinia means it's mostly downhill. Soon the countryside flattened out and the temperature rose to about 25 deg C or 80 deg F. Lunch was in Junin de los Andes where we pulled up next to a row of food stalls constructed from roughly hewn timbers. We took our places on a long trestle table while Eduardo ordered for everyone. Jacqui's vegetarian option was ordered first, but naturally it was the last of the many trays of empanadas - fist sized fried pastries stuffed with meats, chicken and spinach - delivered to our table. Typically, there was too much food and we ate too much!
Lunch in Junin de los Andes. Lots of empanadas and the inevitable stray dog. Photo Sarsha
Jo and Sarsha during lunch at Juin de los Andes. Photo Jo
Jacqui rode with me after lunch. Even two-up IC240 had plenty of power to overtake as we headed south on the famous Ruta 40. There was quite a lot of traffic: cars, buses and campervans. Riding would have been frustrating had we obeyed the road rules. But in Argentina, Eduardo showed us, it was OK to overtake whenever safe, to ride at whatever speed was comfortable and to ignore double lines and posted speed limits. I was worried about getting busted by the police, but we never saw any mobile police presence.
The only police we saw were in huts or shelters, one on each side of the road, sometimes with a chicane to slow traffic on the road between them. Every now and again, at one of the police "stations" a policeman would stand in the middle of the road, just as Eduardo does, and pull a car out of the traffic. This never happened to us. I'm not sure what they were policing, but it couldn't have been speeding!
Evidence of volcanism was everywhere - in this case just near San Martin de los Andes.
Approaching cars or trucks would often flash their lights and the drivers make a gesture. Was it was because they were angry at our outrageous overtaking maneuvers - my translation was "WTF are you doing? Get on your side of the road, you dickhead!" or "Jesus Christ are you suicidal?" It soon became clear that these gestures were well-meaning greetings from a population that appeared to be in love with motorcycles and their riders. Over a few glasses of malbec we came up with a theory to explain this seemingly irrational behaviour: since the Paris to Dakar race had shifted to South America and become the Dakar, the locals appreciated that motorcycles and their riders bring excitement, international prominence and foreign currency to their country. Maybe or maybe not. In any case we had a lot of fun returning their light flashes and waves over the rest of the tour.
After lunch we pulled into largo Falkner. Clockwise from left: Jackie and Roy, batman is somewhere nearby, Ian and Roberto and Ian and Jacqui. Stops like this allowed us to regroup as it didn't take long for a gap of 10+km to develop between Eduardo out front and Alain bringing up the rear.
Another re-group near the intersection of Ruta 40 and Ruta 231 - Jo, followed by Ian and Jacqui pull off on the soft gravel verge. Photo Jackie
At this regroup spot there was soft sand and a deep depression adjacent to the road. Everyone managed to park our bikes, except for Mike Rabb, or El Che as he was becoming known, who fell into the ditch with his GS following. El Che was shaken and earning a reputation for falling off. Over the inevitable glass of red El Che revealed that before this ride he had held a motorcycle licence for 1 month only. He had booked some extra training sessions in his hometown of Boulder, Colorado, but they were canceled because it snowed. You've got to hand it to him - he had balls taking on this ride with so little experience. Perhaps El Che's early career as a US Navy pilot of Phantom jets in the Vietnam war gave him a different perspective of risk compared to the rest of us.
Eduardo captured much of the trip on his helmet mouted Sony video camera. Ian couldn't resist making a fool of himself. Photo Jackie
Our final leg into Bariloche took us beside Lago Nahuel Huapi. I note in my diary that I don't recall much about the lake except that it was framed by the Andes. I didn't take a photograph of the lake, so I borrowed this one from here.
Ian and Roy Ferguson. Roy and Jackie were riding the only F800GS on the ride. Photo Jackie
We stopped for a regroup before turning off to Bariloche. L-R Mike L, Cheryl, Roberto, Sarsha and Jo. This perspective of the Andes could have come from a JRR Tolkien novel - except for the motorcycles, of course :).
David snaps the Andes next to a small shrine for Gauchito Gil, a "folk Saint" to many people in Argentina. When a person believes that Gauchito Gil has fulfilled a request they often build a roadside shrine, like this one, to give thanks.
This regroup point was on open plains some distance east from the Andes - the topography had changed over the day and gale force winds had developed - strong winds are the norm in Patagonia.
Before departing on the final leg into our hotel in San Carlos de Bariloche (Bariloche) - the first city on the trip so far - Eduardo instructed us to stay close to the rider in front to keep the group together. This was a sensible instruction but Eduardo made complying tricky by setting his usual cracking pace.
Hotel Nahuel Huapi (named after the lake) was a 5 story affair. We were billeted on floors 4 and 5 and could look down on the parking lot where our bikes were parked. Before going out to explore Bariloche we watched Eduardo give all the bikes a once over. His hands were protected by white surgical gloves that didn't stay white for long as he checked the bikes over, lubed the chains and adjusted their tension. We would see Eduardo do this after each day's riding, no matter how long or demanding the day had been. The life of a motorcycle tour group leader isn't all pisco sours and carefree days enjoying the wind in your hair....
Walking in Bariloche city centre we were introduced to currency exchange Argentinian style. It was obvious to the locals that we were tourists - meaning we had USD to change into Argentinan Pesos($ARS). Hotels and banks offered $8ARS to the USD while street traders offered between $11ARS and $13ARS depending on the size of the USD notes we had to exchange. Larger denomination notes attracted the best exchange rate while $5USD or less would not be traded. Choosing the least sinister looking hustler Jacqui and I were ushered in to a T Shirt shop where a "banker" peeled off notes from huge wads of cash in both currencies.
Somehow everyone ended up in the same restaurant where we shared a completely forgettable cheese fondue, made more palatable by copious quantities of malbec.
Back in our hotel room there were no dripping taps and the walls screened us from the nocturnal activities of our neighbours. Our sleep that night was long and sound.
Thanks to Cheryl for reading an early draft and finding indeciperhable Australianisms and numerous typos!
Forward: Bariloche to Esquel
You might also be interested in
Comments
July 26th 2021. From Mike L:
Hi Ian. Keep up the good work. Your are sure to get an audience of fairly pleasant critics. I would like to see “guys, guys, guys” paraphrased when appropriate. Did you have the pic of me resting across the bike on center stand in the Bariloche petrol station while waiting for one of the lost ducklings?
Ian's Reply: Yes, I do have that photo - it’s one of my favourites - and it will be in the next instalment. I’m sure I’ll find a place to use “guys, guys, guys”
July 26th 2021. From Mike R
Hi Ian and Jacqui, Well here's what I think: you guys got way too much time on your hands in lock-down :) :) and also way too big an archive for your old motorcycle trips. :) but it was great fun reading (some of) the blog and seeing the photos of all the beautiful people on that trip down the Patagonia: lots of great memories !! Thank you ! I'm in Wales doing a class in sea kayaking on the Isle of Anglesey at the moment . Is Australia allowing American covid refugees to enter now? I am vaccinated!
Ian's reply: I hope the memories of your little off road excursions are not too painful. They all give context to that photo we took of the group and you lying on your bike :) in a later post
July 27th 2021. From Sarsha R
Hi guys, lol. Hope you are all well in these crazy non bloody travelling times. Ian that was such a cool read, brought back some great memories. Cant wait for the next installment.
Stay safe, Sarsha and Jo
August 2nd 2021. From Jerry Cook of Compass Expeditons Motorcycle Tours
Ian, I really enjoyed reading the first part of your blog yesterday. It's fantastic, very really well written and the photos are just great! I love it when customers share their tour experiences like you have, it gives us a real sense of satisfaction and the motivation to keep doing what we love!
I look forward to the next installment. Cheers, Jerry
Would you like to comment?
Unfortunately I had to turn the comment system off because I get thousands of spam and offensive comments added by, I assume, bots.
If you would like to get in touch with me to make a comment or just say hi, I'd like to hear from you, and post your comments here.
Please use the email address below - it's a picture, not a link or text, just type the address into your email system.
Yes, I know that's not ideal...
Ian