Oregon to Ushuaia on an XR650L

That's great you did the lagunas route. Epic Bolivia riding.

Day 108 (January 30, 2013)
Unuyi, Bolivia to Unnamed Lagoon, Bolivia
Day's Ride: 140 Miles



Leaving Unuyi, we made a quick stop at the Train Graveyard. I'm not sure on the story behind this place; however, just outside of Unuyi is the "Cemetario de Trenes" where they've left tons of old engines and cars to rust.





We hung around for a few minutes taking pictures, but I started getting worried about picking up a flat from all of the rusty metal lying around and we soon jetted out of the graveyard and cut across the desert scrub to the main road. The main road south out of Unuyi to San Cristobal (the last gas and last town of any size in our route) was beautfiul graded gravel.



The road was relatively smooth; however, the new knobies combined with the occasional rut caused my rear to sway a bit as we blasted along at 60mph.

We stopped in San Cristobal had our tanks topped off by an wizened old man with a massive wad of coca leaves in his mouth. I tightened a spoke on my rear wheel and then we were off again. Mike was super stoked to be heading off into the Bolivian wilderness on a beautiful dirt road:



The road passed through several small collections of huts and buildings before begining to climb towards some distant volcanos. Soon we were passing through massive rock gardens that were very reminicent of Joshua Tree National Park.



I decided to ride up into the rocks and hide from Mike. See if you can spot me:



We left the rocks and and continued down the road.



Soon came to our turn off. We left the main road and jumped out onto a small side track. As we continued to climb up higher into the alitplano, the weather began to look ominous. As we were already above 14,000 feet, I decided it would be a good idea to put on some rain gear and make some adjustments to the mixture screw on my carberuator.



The road soon devolved into a muddy track strewn with baseball sized rocks, deep ruts, and sand.



Mike's massive BMW soon became a little tought to handle.





Eventually we came to a stream crossing. Out of the graciousness of my heart, I decided to let Mike go first while I recorded the result for posterity. He was doing great until he hit that hole that was hidden under the water....



After helping him right his bike, I walked the ground a little until I was confident that I had a good line on relatively dry and stable ground. I went back to my bike and made my attempt.....









After scrapping off some of the mud and collecting my wounded pride, Mike helped me stand my bike up and I rode out of the quagmire.

As we continued on, the scenery just kept getting better. Just down the road we came across a group of llamas and Mike stopped to take a picture. I took a picture of Mike taking a picture:



The road continued up through a pass between two sets of volcanos; by this time, the road was mostly a first and second gear crawl. At some points we simply skipped the road altogether and rode through the scrub.





Finally the road dropped down out of the pass and we came across our first lagoon, complete with bright blue water and pink flamingos:



Turning south, we began to skirt a series of lagunas and dry salt flats.







Eventually we came by a laguna named after my bike and I was forced to stop and get a picture.



Just in case you can't read it, it says "Laguna Honda".

By now it was starting to get late and we began hunting for a campsite. Eventually we came across a small, isolated laguna a few kilometers away from the main track, complete with snow capped mountains, mirror like water, and grazing flamingos.





Mike set up his tent while I started working on dinner. The beauty of having a multi fuel stove is that you can fill it up off of just about anything....



After priming the stove, I started to work on the veggies. Luckily our campsite came complete with a cutting board...





After dinner we kicked back and watched the sun go down beside our private lagoon as the flamingos skwaqued and kaad in the background.



All in all it was a hell of a way to start this leg of the trip. 140 miles of straight dirt riding on every type of terrain imaginable. We even got snowed on a little bit. Despite dropping my bike a few times, I had zero mechanical difficulties and no injuries. Mike also dropped his bike a few times and other than a slightly sprained ankle from the stream crossing, he was doing okay. We were stoked from the awesome riding, but still very tired. The last 40 miles had been rather rough and we were more than ready to drop off to sleep after the sun went down.

Day 109 (January 31, 2013)
Unnamed Lagoon to Laguna Colorada, Bolivia
Day's Ride: 49 Miles



Waking up around 6:00 AM with a slight headache from the elevation, I walked up the hill above our campsite to snap a few shots of our spot.



Man, we really had a great spot. With the flamingos squawking in the background, we set about striking camp and preparing breakfast. Before long we were back on the road heading south.



Actually, most of the time there wasn't much of a road to speak of. You simply chose a likely patch of gravelly sand and pointed your front end in the direction that you wanted to travel.



I've heard people say that their dream is to ride a dirt bike on a golf course. I say you can keep the golf course; give me a mile wide patch of three inch deep sand on top of a layer of firm dirt with no tracks and no one else around! It's like skiing powder! I was having a blast making huge sweeping turns, carving beautiful lines at 50 MPH through virgin soil, feeling the front end float on top and the back end churning down to the bottom.



Of course, all good things must come to an end, and before long we found that the Land Cruisers had had the same idea: the whole sandy plain was soon covered by the ruts of passing tourist wagons.



This slowed things down considerable. Riding in smooth wide open sand is easy; riding in sandy ruts is hard as hell!



Still, occasionally an open untracked patch of sand could be found. Mike and I were riding parallel to each other but were often separated by over a mile across the plain as we each tried to locate a patch untracked ground. We constantly varied between 1 st gear crawls through sandy ruts and 5th gear slaloms through fresh fields of sand.



After climbing up one particularly beautiful dune, I stopped to get off my bike for a picture and found that disaster had struck:



I guess I shouldn't have been surprised; this is typically what happens when I do a bunch of dirt riding. Still, I had done the Santa Theresa road twice and the Death Road once with no issues; I suppose that those little jaunts lulled me into a false sense of security.

This little break looked especially bad because it was so close to the frame that there didn't appear to be any way to splint it. Luckily for me, Mike had a 1/4 inch drive extension for his ratchet that fit perfectly inside the tubing.



Using a ratchet strap we were able to tension the luggage rack back together and then we got to work trying to stabilize everything. Mike saved the day again with his amazing bailing wire skills.



As you can see, we had to get a little creative to brace this up. Using a copious amount of bailing wire, a few zip ties, a 1/4 inch ratchet extension, a tire iron, a ratchet strap, and some duck tape, we managed to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.



After giving it a few wobbles to see how it was holding up, it felt like the rack was actually stronger in this configuration than it had been before it broke.

We got back on the trail and I commenced riding like a grandma, wincing at every little divot or washboard that I struck, praying fervently that the rest of the bike would hold up long enough to get out of the wilderness and back into civilization, a scant 160 miles of dirt tracks and washboard roads away.

After riding a few miles with the new system in place, my confidence increased slightly and I sped up a little. Mike was having some difficulties piloting his machine through the sandy ruts.



Knowing how sloppily my 650cc Honda was handling in the ruts, I can't imagine how his massive 1150cc BMW was doing; it must have been horrible.



Early in the afternoon we reached the "Arbol de Piedra" (Tree of Rock). Right as we pulled up four Land Cruisers materialized out of the desert and the rock was swarmed with tourists. We were having a hard time getting a clear picture and eventually we had to yell (politely of course) at everybody and ask them if they wouldn't mind standing clear for a few seconds so we could get a good picture. Our request was only moderately successful and Mike started getting pissed. I believe his exact words were: "I didn't ride for three months and over 10,000 miles through Central and South America to get to this point and let a bunch of assholes ruin my day!" Actually, those weren't his exact words, but that was the gist of it. Well said Mike, well said.



Eventually we got everyone out of the way and were able to take a few good pictures. I was tempted to go find a good bouldering problem on it until I saw this nearby sign:



Apparently climbing on the Tree of Rock has been a problem in the past. After the arbol, it was a short jaunt down into Laguna Colorada. Starting at Laguna Colorada, we would be riding in a large Bolivian National Park and we had to stop at the entrance and pay a small fee.



While Mike was paying his fee, I started chatting with one of the Park Rangers about my bike problems. After I showed him where my luggage rack had broken, he sparked up and told me that there was a guy with a welder and a full shop just down the road near the hotel. Jackpot!

Once again, you can find a welder just about anywhere down here. Either that, or I just have amazing luck at finding welders in random places. Who would have guessed that I would find someone who could weld out in the middle of the altiplano, nearly 200 miles away from the nearest village?

I went and found the welder, Edgar, who told me that he could fix me up but that I would have to wait until the generators came on around 6:00 PM. Mike and I rode over to the nearby Hotel and asked if we could sit inside out of the wind and have lunch.



Returning at 6:00 PM, Edgar lead us over to his shop and I explained what I wanted done. First I had him grind down a small piece of rebar to fit inside the tubing and serve as an internal gusset.



Next I had him weld all around the break. Finally, I had him weld a few nails along the outside of the tubing to serve as further reinforcement.



He did a pretty damn good job and wouldn't take any money from me. I finally convinced him to take 100 Bolivianos and had him sign my gas tank.



With the luggage rack repaired, Mike and I decided to go back to the Hotel and spend the night. We had originally planned to make it all the way to Laguna Verde and camp; however, the sandy riding and the time spent repairing my bike had nullified that possibility and we decided that it would be best just to hunker down where we were for the night.

Wow man, unbelievable pics. Just wanted you to know I've been inspired by your trip so much I am going to Guatamala to learn Spanish for a month this week in prep for my own next year. In case some people in a gondola want to talk trash about my beard im ready . These pics are some of the most surreal yet and I'll be in Antigua so if you have some suggestions from your Guatamala adv let me know.O and ill find that El Pescador Captain and give him a mustache sticker for the front of his boat.

Dude, I've been following you and Kedgi for a while. Currently involved in a great self debate, KLR or XR...hmm! I won't ask either of you 'cause... well, you know, that bias thing. Leaning to the XR though..I like red

Epic ride! Decent riding report.. just got caught up!

Wow man, you are really taking the plunge!! Way to go! If you want to save some money, go to San Pedro on Lake Atitlan to do your Spanish Course. I was paying $3.50 a night for my hotel there. And it was a decent hotel too. I think the Spanish course was only $90 a week there as well. Also, I've heard that Xela is cheaper than Antigua as well.

Hell, if you're going to be there for a month, you should hit up all three spots: Xela, Lake Atitlan, and Antigua. Antigua is really cool, but it's also where all of the rich people from Guatemala ctiy go on the weekend, so prices are a bit steeper there. But really, everywhere you go in Guatemala will be cheeper than the States.

Man, I'm stoked for you! Have fun! You should rent a bike while you are there!

Bryce,

I have thrown a few dollars your way for beer and McDonalds. Enjoying the report
and pics.

Jim in Texas

Dude, I wouldn't go with either of them. You should do it on a Harley with a sidecar!

Seriously though, the KLR might be a better choice. Not that it's a better bike, but it will be a hell of a lot easier to get parts for (should you need them) and there are a lot more accesories floating around out there, like solid luggage racks that don't break every two weeks (like mine). It won't handle as well in the dirt, but the majority of your time will be spent on pavement, unless you have some trans america dirt route that you aren't telling anybody about.....

Other great choices would be a DR650 or a VSTROM. Once again, easier to get parts for in South America and more accessories available. Various bike shop owners have told me that they actually manufacture DR650's, KLR's, and VSTROM's in South America. A lot of the Cop Bikes are represented by these three.

Still, the XR will do it and it's a blast when you are off the road. My only recomendation would be to use soft luggage like a Giant Loop or custom build your own luggage rack and subframe reinforcements.

Really, any bike you choose will be fine. There's a Canadian couple down here riding around on old 70's Yamaha XS650's that they fixed up. They leak oil everywhere, but they still go just fine.

I have been reading this day by day since you started and nothing in your trip to date has impressed me more than your pics/trip across this last open country. Great pics and descriptions of what you see and what is happening to you two.

Congrats,

Semper Fi

Day 110 (February 1, 2013)
Laguna Colorada, Bolivia to San Pedro de Atacama, Chile
Day's Ride: 114 Miles



Turns out that staying at the Hotel was a bad idea. For some reason, some of the tour operators who were staying there with their truck loads of tourists started mean mugging us. Then, as Mike and I were trying to sleep, these two Chilean chicks kept coming into the big communal bedroom, turning on the lights, and talking to each other. At one point they even came in, took out a guitar, and tuned it right there in the room as four people were trying to sleep! I don't know if they were drunk, or high, or just simply assholes, but I was getting really steamed. Eventually, at around midnight, I asked them politely if they could turn off the light and close the door. They gave me a fairly dismissive response, told me that they would be done in five minutes, then continued to chat it up. I started drumming my fingers on my chest and was about to get up and have some words with them when they finally shut up and went to bed.

The next morning when we got up at 6:00 AM, I made a point of turning the lights on and off a few times and talking to Mike in my best obnoxious American voice. Payback's a b*tch. We packed up our stuff and convinced one of the tour operators to give us some of their food. We were on the road by 7:30 AM.



Riding down the western shore of Laguna Colorada, I was mesmerized by the view.



It's hard to tell from the picture, but Laguna Colorada is actually a dark red color and has massive islands of salt sticking up out of it.

About six miles down the road we came to the Hotel where our gas was supposed to be cached. I pulled into the courtyard and immediately saw our jug setting in small closet. I told the workers that it was mine, then we pulled it out and got to work. When I had bought the jug, there had been some water in it and I hadn't had time to dry it out. Mike assured me that the water would settle to the bottom and that we could just siphon off the top to avoid the H2O.



Mike was up first on siphoning duty; he drew a little too hard and got a face full and mouthful of gasoline. It was burning his face so bad that eventually he went over to the hotel and asked for a some soap to clean himself up.



Since we couldn't get the 30 liter jug high enough, we ended up siphoning everything into a cut up two liter water bottle and then pouring it directly into the tank.



At some point we lost the suction in the siphon and I had to restart it. Despite Mike's warning, I too ended up with a mouthful of gas. Not the most pleasant tasting substance in the world, I can assure you.

With the bikes refueled, we got back on the road. Thankfully the road was relatively well graded and initially we didn't have any problems with the little ridges of sand that we had been dealing with the day before. The scenery continued to be amazing.



Lots of small groups of vicuña lined the road, barely even bothering to look at us as we rode by.



The road continued climbing and soon we were well above 15,000 feet. We soon reached a turnoff where Mike told me that we needed to leave the main road and go up into the hills to find the Bolivian Aduana (Customs Office) so that we could do the check out paper work for our bikes. I didn't quite believe that they would stick the aduana miles from anywhere out in the Altiplano, but I went along with him to the top of the road. At the end of the road I found a chemical plant making acid (of all things) behind a locked gate. And no Aduana. Unfortunately, the Aduana WAS up there somewhere, I just missed it and didn't know. That would come back to bite us in the ass later..... I happened to glance down at my GPS as I was looking around near the chemical plant and found that we had passed 16,500 feet in elevation. Surprisingly, my bike was still breathing. But barely.



Meanwhile, just a few meters away from the gate Mike was riding around on what appeared to be a soccer field. Who in their right mind puts a soccer field at 16,500 feet? Surely this is one of the highest playing fields in the world. We snapped a few pictures with our bikes on the field.



After playing soccer for a few minutes, we got back on the road and started heading south again. Mike had a waypoint saved on his GPS that indicated some nearby thermal geysers, so we decided to go take a look. Sure enough, there were several large pits of boiling mud, a few fumeroles, and one fairly potent steam geyser.



Unlike Yellowstone, these geysers aren't fenced off and there's nothing preventing you from riding right into them if you want. According to some of the tire tracks nearby, it appeared that a few people had tried just that. After we had finished side trip number two, we got back on the road.





We eventually reached a hot springs in vicinity of a rather large laguna. Unfortunately, all my pictures of the hot springs were corrupted by my crappy Guatemalan laptop, so I can't post them. Suffice to say, jumping in the hot springs after riding around above 15,000 feet all morning was sublime. About 10 minutes after we had gotten in, hundreds of Land Cruisers began pulling up and disgorging hoards of water seeking tourists.



Our relaxed reverie interrupted, Mike and I decided to scram. On our way out, we ran into a Dutch rider on an old Honda Transalp.



Since he didn't feel like riding the route alone and hadn't been able to find someone to ride with him, he had signed up for one of the Land Cruiser tours and simply had them haul most of his gear while he rode along behind. Smart guy.

Soon after the hot springs, the road turned to crap again and I began to go off in the sand in search of untracked routes.



Eventually we came upon the Dali Rocks. Apparently Salvador Dali drew some of his inspiration from these rocks out in the middle of the nowhere Bolivia. I think I can see why. We didn't get close enough to get really good pictures, but even from a distance, the view was incredible.





Just to the north of the Dali Rocks was a broad expanse of untracked sand. I had a great time blasting around and carving some nice turns through the tierra.



As I was horsing around, I saw a Land Cruiser streaking up the road from the east. I turned my bike around and raced back towards the road, then turned in and ran parallel with the truck as it hauled ass down the road. I stayed even with him, 100 yards off the road in the sand, doing 60 MPH. It was awesome! The tourists in the back of the truck rolled down their windows and took some pictures of me. I felt like a celebrity.

After racing the Land Cruiser, we continued south and soon reached Laguna Blanca and Laguna Verde.



Laguna Verde was filled with silt from runoff, so we decided to skip it and just look at Laguna Blanca.







At the end of Laguna Blanca we exited the Bolivian National Park and continued up the road a few miles to the Bolivian-Chilean Border and the Bolivian Immigration office.



This is where missing the Aduana would come back to bite us. Mike walked in first and got stamped out of Bolivia. Then the customs official asked him for his Aduana paperwork; after seeing that it wasn't stamped out, he looked surprised and told us that we would have to backtrack 80 kilometers to the Aduana and have it filled out properly before we could leave Bolivia. We were both really tired at this point and had no intention of riding back that far. Furthermore, we didn't have enough gas to make it all the way back. We pointed this out to the immigration official and he simply shrugged his shoulders and told us that it wasn't his problem. We were both frustrated and I was kicking myself for not looking around that chemical plant a little more to find the damn Aduana.

I knew there was a way to get around this little problem, but I really didn't want to go down that road. Still, after a little more talking with the official, I realized that we were at an impasse. Remembering that famous line from the Snickers commercial (not going anywhere for a while?), I searched my pockets for a candy bar and came up empty. Damn! That was my last option before resorting to bribery. So I pulled out the trump question:

"Isn't there a way that we can take care of this here?", I asked.

"Well, now that you mention it, my friend the policeman here is heading down to the Aduana in the morning; he could take your papers down with him. Of course, I'm sure he would appreciate a little tip for his trouble.", he said. He actually used the word "propina", which means tip.

"Claro (Of course). Cuantos (How much)?"

"Whatever you think is fair."

I didn't really want to deal with the hassle of further argument and a possible 100 mile round-trip back through the sandy roads that we had ridden earlier, so I slapped down 100 Bolivianos, Mike slapped down 60, and the immigration official stamped our passports, allowing us to cross the border. That was the first time I've actually had to bribe someone on this trip.

We crossed the border line and were immediately in Chile.



A few hundred yards down the road, we linked up with the asphalt. After hundreds of miles of trying to steer his pig through sand and loose gravel, Mike was ecstatic enough to kiss the tarmac.



The final 20 miles or so were all downhill on nice pavement into the town of San Pedro de Atacama. I suppose that if you were out of gas at this point you could coast all the way into town.



We pulled into San Pedro, took care of our immigration and customs paperwork and hunted down a Hotel. San Pedro reminds me of something out of a Western movie. Dirt roads, desert heat, and adobe buildings. Unfortunately, it's also slammed with tourists.



And that's it. What a ride. I think that the past three days have been the highlight of my trip so far. If anyone is interested in getting GPS waypoints for this route, hit me up via PM and I'll send them your way.

Thanks Gale!

Thanks! Nice to see another Harley rider on here.

Day 111 (February 2, 2013)
San Pedro de Atacama, Chile
Day's Ride: Down the block....

Well, I have literally spent all day uploading pictures and typing. Actually, most of that was uploading pictures, always a difficult proposition in South America.



I did take one small break to move from the Hotel to a campsite.



I've still got to run some errands, find dinner, and change my rear tire back to the Scorpion, so I'm going to piece out now. Tomorrow I'm going to start heading south through the Atacama towards Santiago. It's good to be back in the desert again.

Thanks Bryce for taking us all along on the journey. Safe travels.

What kind of sandwich is that in the pic - looks like a large torta?
In Mexico I don't think they make them that big.

Especialmente las del Salar. Espectaculares!!!

Keep having fun and stay somewhat safe. The Honda XR club in medellin is missing a gringo loco with a gnarly beard

Wanna donate the price of a good travel book. Link svp!
Big snow, it's the weekend, goin skiin.
Georgian Bay Area, Ontario Canada

That is a pretty good beard.

Day 112 (February 3, 2013)
San Pedro de Atacama, Chile to Taltal, Chile
Day's Ride: 355 Miles



Leaving San Pedro this morning, I had a choice: return to the mountains and cross over into Argentina, or drop down into the Atacama desert and bomb the Panamerican Highway to Santiago. Since I haven't really been below 10,000 feet since leaving Cusco (except for a few hours on the Death Road) and I'm tired of getting rained on, I decided to head for the Atacama.

Mike had left San Pedro the day before, so I was on my own. Leaving town, I took a quick detour to check out the Valle de la Luna.



There is some interesting scenery here, including a salt cave. I decided to skip the cave and just see the roadside sights.



This rock formation is called "Tres Marias".






After getting back on the road, I started heading west. As one would imagine of the world's dryest desert, there wasn't much to see.



I did stop at an old abandoned adobe ghost town for a quick break. Mud brick construction will always remind me of Afghanistan.



After a long day of riding, I finally got to the ocean.








After arriving in Taltal, I stopped at a little internet cafe to update the RR. Now I'm going to head out of town and find a place to camp on the beach.

Now that I'm in Chile where things are expensive, I plan on doing a lot more camping, so posts may be a little less frequent.

"The night before leaving Arequipa, I picked up a late Christmas present to myself, transported to Peru courtesy of bubbletron's boyfriend, Scott."



Hey Bryce,

It was great to meet up in Arequipa and fun on this end to contribute in a small way to your adventure that so many are following! I had a blast riding and exploring the Canon del Colca, the Altiplano and Cuzco region/Valle Sagrado with bubbletron and my rented steed, el burro, a Blue Gen II KLR from Peru Motors. BTW bubbletron informed me that you also would have appreciated a delivery of a fine US product similiar to local custom of chewing Coca leaves and I wish I had known before because an entire log of said product would have found its way south to you to support your adventure! Look forward to meeting up in Oregon for some riding when and if you return.

Cheers, Scott (aka mendovet, and when south of the border, menudovet)