Have you ever deposited money ($4,500) into someones bank account that you have never met...? ...for a bike you've never seen...? ...that lives in a different country...? WE DID!!!!!!! ...and so the story begins. First: Thank you ADVrider for bringing trustworthy people together with a passion for motorcycle travel!!!!!!!! So, the check was deposited. The title to the bike came in the mail, and was registered to my state and me. The bike was being stored at Dakar Motos in BA. The owners of the bike had a vacation planned from Brazil to Yellow Stone and were able to bring the luggage to us, and it was great to meet them. We flew to Argentina with the bike's luggage packed and found our bike waiting. First stop: See the start of the Dakar! The taxi gets lost on the way to Dakar Motos, once we find the place we do some quick set-up of the bike, and are off to find the ferry to take us to Uruguay. After a long evening of trying to figure out how things work in this new to us country we stay the night in Uruguay. The next day we cross back into Argentina, and we see if all this paperwork stuff is going to work out for us. We find the Aduana, and the the bike gets imported to us and we are good to go. WOW, This was huge, Every thing worked out, and we get a room close to were the Dakar will start and take it easy for a couple of days.
Argentina New Years and the fun begins. The next day we head south. We stay at a lake near San Miguel del Monte Next stop we camp in the Sierra de Cura Malal We leave the Mnt. and take a wrong turn on out way to Trelew. Out in the middle of no-where, we end up in a hell storm. We did find some shelter. Then we run out of gas, (in the middle of no-where). We get rescued from some nice locals and make it to Trelew in the rain. The next day we head out to Pta. Tombo to see the penguins. <object width=425 height=318><param name="movie" value="https://cdn.smugmug.com/ria/ShizVidz-2011030702.swf" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><param name="flashVars" value="s=aT0xMjA1OTYyNzY2Jms9N0ZOYlUmYT0xNTU4MjYxMl9UQWpXaiZ1PVlPR09J" /><embed src="https://cdn.smugmug.com/ria/ShizVidz-2011030702.swf" flashVars="s=aT0xMjA1OTYyNzY2Jms9N0ZOYlUmYT0xNTU4MjYxMl9UQWpXaiZ1PVlPR09J" width=425 height=318 type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always"></embed></object>
After we hang with the penguins we head west on the 25. Man, there is alot of nothing out there. We find a place to set up camp by the river. In the morning we hit the dirt road to Corcovoado and get our first glimps of the Andes, and out first pass through them. We come out of the Andes at Villa Santa Lucia and head south. One for the V-strom'rs Milena taps on my shoulder telling me that she hears a strange noise. I go to stop and have no back brake. One of the bolts had come out of the break caliper and the brake pads had come out and destroyed them selves. Luckly I had a set of new pads that we flew in with, and even more lucky, one of the bolts that hold the crash bars on was a perfect fit. The bolt couldnt be more than a 8th of an inch too long or it would hit the brake disk. I couldnt believe we found one on the bike that fit. <object width=425 height=318><param name="movie" value="https://cdn.smugmug.com/ria/ShizVidz-2011030702.swf" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /><param name="flashVars" value="s=aT0xMjA2ODA0MDg4Jms9ajhCd1UmYT0xNTU4MjYxMl9UQWpXaiZ1PVlPR09J" /><embed src="https://cdn.smugmug.com/ria/ShizVidz-2011030702.swf" flashVars="s=aT0xMjA2ODA0MDg4Jms9ajhCd1UmYT0xNTU4MjYxMl9UQWpXaiZ1PVlPR09J" width=425 height=318 type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always"></embed></object>
It was getting late and we hadn't found a place to exchange money. In Manihuales we ran into these two nice ladies that did some exchanging for us. We almost gave them waaaaay too much, but luckily we figured it all out, and we stayed in a nice pink room. Lake Buenos Aires. We wanted to take the ferry, but it did not run until late in the day, so we took the route from Puerto Ibanex to Perito Morena. (may be the worst wash board ever). Again, Milena taps me on the shoulder "the boxes feel loose". The wash board broke one of the racks. I tried to do some fancy zip-tie work. We made it to Perito Moreno and got welded up much faster and easier than things should be in SA for people who are a bit lost.
After a quick snack we hit the 40 Looking for a place to camp, we pull off on the road to Cueva de las Manos and convince the people to let us set up camp. This guy was our buddy, BUT his/her friend sprayed/pee'd on our tent; which sticks with us for the rest of the trip. The next day disaster strikes!
We stop at Bajo Caracoles for fuel. Our last chance for gas for the next 250 miles. We fill a old 1 gal. oil jug with gas and strap it to the front crash bar. The 40 is getting paved and we have fun bounce'n over the road blocks and run'n fast on the graded dirt base. We clear the construction area and are move'n along fine when it starts to rain. The rain keeps come'n and the road starts getting a little slick (especially with bald tires). It doesn't feel too bad and I feel comfortable at about 30 mph. Suddenly, the rear slides out and we go down in a low side. We splash down into the mus still spinning and now the bike is come'n back onto us. We come to a stop and I help Milena get untangled from the bike. She tells me her knee hurts real bad. (shit, I'm thinking thats it. It will be a hospital and then home). A truck stops and 3 guys that probably saw us go down are say'n a bunch of stuff that I dont under stand (my spanish, well, no Espagnol). Milena's Ipod volume went to max in the crash and she couldnt get to it to turn it down, so she couldnt help with the communication, or lack there of. I finally gave them a thumbs up and let them leave because it was just too chaotic. We got our helmets off, and it looked like there were no broken bones, and probably tore a ligament. Then a van pulls up, and has a bunch of Italians inside. The driver (tour guide) speaks a little english and I ask him if Milena can ride in the van. We get Milena up out of the mud and into the van. He helps me pick up the bike, and I ask if he has room for all the luggage. He has me wipe all the mud off while he make room. He tells me there is a place 70 km they are stopping for lunch and he will take Milena there. He also tells me that he is a bike rider and that I need to stay in the ruts where all the water is so I dont slide out. By now we are soaked and its really coming down hard. They head out. I get the bike into the rust and its a splash and paddle ride for the next 40 miles. I cant really see with all the rain and muddy water splash up on me, but out of the corner of my eye I see a KLR and a guy wave'n me down. I stop. He has pulled off the road and unloaded all of his gear off the bike. He comes run'n over and asks "How the hell are you riding in this. The mud keeps jam'n up my tires". I tell him what the van guy told me and to stay in the ruts. Thinking he is heading north I tell him hoe far town is, and continue on. I find out later that he ended up camping out there, muddy and cold.:eek1 Its a long 40 miles it took about 2 hours. Busses were still giving it a go and they would come at me sliding sideways crossed up in the ruts and on the gas so that they would not get stuck. I would have fight my way out of the ruts and off the road (usually falling in the process) to get out of their way. I make it to the meeting spot. My hands are so cold that I cant move my fingers. To use the clutch I just leave my hand in a "c" shape, move it over the clutch and pull my whole arm back. I climb off the bike and Milena helps me get all the gear off. My fingers are useless, and the shivers are starting to take over my body. Its good to see that Milena can stand and at least limp around. Here are some pics of our save-yores. Welcome to Siberia
Ya I do. A big thumbs up to you guys that are posting while you travel. It was too much for us. We were riding from sun up to sun down pretty much every day. I couldnt even find good enough internet to empty the pics off my camera. Cheers to your RR and all the time you spend.
Our stay at Siberia was exactly what we needed. The ladies there ran a small restraunt and rented rooms. They warmed us up with some coffee, and then helped drag all our soggy and muddy gear to our room. I had to fight one lady to let me carry the heavy luggage. We fire up the big gas heater in our room and hang all our belongings all over the room to dry. The room next to us has a German couple that road in on the GS 650 and African Twin. They were there the night before and tried to leave in the rain, but quickly turned around and stayed a second night. We had a good night sharing stories with them, and headed out together the next sunny morning.
A true - not sure how we're going to make this all come together and crash a bunch along the way - adventure. Well done and keep it coming.