tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54308494708509285822024-03-13T08:40:10.461-07:00El Calvo Rides South...Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-44500569990854305802013-05-17T12:51:00.000-07:002013-05-17T12:51:04.998-07:00In ConclusionTotal Days: 175 (October 16, 2012 - April 10, 2013)<br />Grants Pass, Oregon to Buenos Aires, Argentina<br />Total Trip Mileage: 20,056<br /><br />For starters, I took a couple of days and re-traced my route on Google Earth. I just needed to see on a map what 20,056 miles and 15 countries looked like:<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/NorthandCentralAmerica_zps17218a8b.jpg" /><br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/SouthAmerica_zps3cf367b8.jpg" /><br /><br />My final few hours in BA consisted of getting to the airport and finding my freedom plane back to the USA:<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0794_zpsf7f14fb0.jpg" /><br /><br />After getting on the plane I was pretty bushed. The fatigue of six months of travel and the emotional come down of having literally nothing to do finally caught me. I didn't mention this at the beginning of my report, but when I was in Mexico, I ended a two year relationship with a girl that I had been dating. Even though I knew it had to end, I was pretty devastated. I spent a lot of days blasting down Mexican highways bawling my eyes out and blowing snot rockets into my helmet visor. One of the main reasons that my reporting was so spotty and infrequent for the first month was this serious depression that I was in. And then, just as things were starting to get better, I got ran over by a boat, accidentally fed a bunch of Marijuana, and watched Justin get hit by a truck.<br /><br />The stress of those first few months was so overwhelming for me that I developed a serious pain in the right side of my chest that didn't disappear until Colombia. The pain was so bad that at times I was convinced I was about to have a mild heart attack; I went to a couple of doctors and they told me that I just needed to relax. Sure enough, after spending a week in Medellin just chilling, things went back to normal and started feeling better.<br /><br />As I was sitting in my seat contemplating this and thinking about how far I had come, a nice stewardess came up and asked me if I was in the military. I told her that I had just gotten out a few months ago. She thanked me for my service and then told me that beer was on the house for the rest of the trip! She smuggled me three Buds and a bunch of pretzels. I slept for a while and then woke up and looked out the window. Contemplating the last six months at 30,000 feet, I found it incredible that I was covering the entire length of my journey in a few hours.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0798_zps37c5717e.jpg" /><br /><br />After about 30 hours of flights and layovers, I finally arrived in Portland, Oregon. I called United Cargo and found that my bike had not come in yet. My awesome younger brother drove up from Corvallis to pick me up and we went back to his place before going to a local brewery and consuming massive amounts of IPA.<br /><br />The next week was spent applying for jobs, visiting my family, getting a track on my finances, and trying to figure out what I was going to do with my life. <br /><br />My bike finally arrived in Portland, a week late. I had an appointment with a Marine Corps prior service recruiter in Portland and inmate alfabc had told me that he would take me out to lunch, so I figured that I could knock out everything in one shot. <br /><br />Alfabc treated me to an awesome lunch at the Side Door Cafe downtown. He's a stand up guy! We talked about motorcycles and bicycles and life and had a good time. Thanks a ton man!<br /><br />Afterwards, I went to the joint Navy/Marine/Coast Guard base to see if I could get some temporary work with the Marines for the summer. Things were going smoothly until I started filling out the paperwork and came to a question asking if I had used drugs since I had been out. I knew I could just lie and say no, but I decided that honesty was the best policy in this case; besides, I had already posted the whole incident up on the internet for everyone to see. Realizing that I was probably about to disqualify myself from ever returning to the Marines, I put down my pen and told the recruiter that I had a funny story for him. I related the whole Space Gravy incident to him, explained that it was unintentional, and waited for the verdict. Sure enough, he told me that since I had verbally told him that I had used marijuana (even though it was unintentional), I was now permanently disqualified from returning to the Marines and that an annotation would be placed on my record should I ever attempt to rejoin through another prior service recruiter. He was nice about it and he seemed to to understand the situation; still, rules are rules. I understood; I had to deal with a lot of drug pops for my Marines when I was in. There is a zero tolerance policy on drugs in the Military and sometimes people try and beat a drug charge by claiming that they were given narcotics without their knowledge. Even if it's a legitimate accident, it's hard to prove in a military court and most people that try that route get separated.<br /><br />I was pretty discouraged. I didn't need to go back to the Marines, it was just one option among many. Still, I had a heavy heart. Even though it was an accident, I felt like I had let someone down. I left the office depressed and drove to the airport to pick up my bike.<br /><br />As I pulled into the shipping office at the airport, I got a call from the Forest Service saying that they had received my application for a fire fighting job and were going to try really hard to hire me, despite being overstaffed. I guess god closes some doors and then opens new ones. That lifted my spirits a bit. The sight of "El Senior" all wrapped up in plastic wrap lifted them even more.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0810_zps98c90107.jpg" /> <br /><br />With a little help from the guys at the loading dock, I re-attached the front wheel and loaded the bike up in the back of my truck.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0813_zps7b3b63ad.jpg" /><br /><br />I drove down to Corvallis, dropped off the bike in my brother's garage, then headed for the supermarket to get some dinner and a drink. This being Oregon, they had an entire refrigerator case dedicated to micro-brewed IPA's. God bless the United States!<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0808_zpscb9c4a46.jpg" /><br /><br />Staring at all of that hoppy goodness, I remembered something that I had seen on a fake obituary: "I spent the majority of my money on beer, gas, and motorcycle parts; the rest I just wasted!". So true.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/1drink.gif" /><br />=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-<br />And now for the numbers:<br /><br />Money Spent: $20,000<br />- Bike Shipping from Buenos Aires to PDX: $1,200<br />- Plane Ticket Home (BA to PDX: $1,100<br />- Sail Boat from Panama to Colombia: $1,000<br />- Other Misc Ferrys and Boats: $350<br />- Bribes and Payoffs: $130<br />- Oil: $350 approx<br />- Tires: $850 approx<br />- Chains: $500 approx<br /><br />Countries Visited: 15<br />- USA<br />- Mexico<br />- Guatemala<br />- Honduras<br />- El Salvador<br />- Nicaragua<br />- Costa Rica<br />- Panama<br />- Colombia<br />- Ecuador<br />- Peru<br />- Bolivia<br />- Chile<br />- Argentina<br />- Uruguay<br /><br />Front Tires: 3<br />- Avon Distanzia<br />- Pierreli Scorpion<br />- Metzler Sahara<br /><br />Rear Tires: 5 <br />- Avon Distanzia<br />- Pierrelli Scorpion<br />- Chinese made knobby (only used for the Lagunas route in Bolivia)<br />- Metzler Sahara<br />- Metzler Sahara (purchased used from Dakar Motos in Buenos Aires, used for the final 300 miles in Uruguay)<br /><br />Flat Tires: 2<br />- 1 Front <br />- 1 Rear<br /><br />Chains: 5 <br />- Factory O-ring chain<br />- EK Gold non o-ring (ruined by overtightening in Medellin, Colombia, changed out in Lima, Peru)<br />- DID x-ring (ruined by incorrect install by mechanics in Lima, Peru, changed out in Rio Gallegos, Argentina)<br />- DID non o-ring (ruined by overtightening in Ushuaia, Argentina)<br />- Tsubaki o-ring chain<br /><br />Oil Changes: 10<br />- Oil Filters used: 5<br /><br />Chain Sliders: 2.5<br />- 2 OEM XR650L Chain Sliders<br />- 1 Self-Fabricated out of cutting board type nylon material<br /><br />Front Sprockets: 2.5<br />- 2 Moose XR650R 15 tooth (the first lasted about 10,000 miles. A friend brought the second one to Arequipa, Peru when he flew in to see his girlfriend.)<br />- 1 OEM 14 tooth (used only for the Lagunas route in Bolivia.)<br /><br />Rear Sprockets: 1<br />- 1 OEM 45 tooth (It's still got some life in it!)<br /><br />Luggage Rack Breaks: 6<br />- San Diego, CA (probably due to excessive weight of Ammo Can panniers)<br />- Guatemala (following a long day of gravel roads)<br />- Ecuador<br />- Peru (after being hit by a car)<br />- Bolivia (second day of hard off road riding on the Lagunas route in Bolivia)<br />- Argentina (not a full break, just a crack. Re-welded by Javier at Dakar Motos in Buenos Aires)<br /><br />Other Problems:<br />- Cracked Lugs on oil cooler (fixed with JB Weld and zip ties in Oaxaca, Mexico. No further problems.)<br />- Broken fuel tank mounting tabs on frame (re-welded in Punta Arenas, Chile)<br /><br />Accidents, Wrecks, and other Misfortunes: 5<br />- Hit by a boat while Kayaking in Guatemala<br />- Crashed on slick road in Guatemala<br />- Ran into bus in Guatemala<br />- Hit by Car in Peru<br />- Hit and broke side mirror on car Lima, Peru<br /><br />Cops looking for bribes: 4<br /><br />Bribes paid: 1<br /><br />Thanks to everyone for reading my ramblings. The community on advrider is incredible. From technical advice, to humor, to donations, to emergency help, to free meals, I've received so much support from people on this forum that I can't even begin to thank you all enough. The generosity of total strangers united by a pastime like motorcycling continues to amaze me. And to all of the people that I met on this trip, who shared meals and laughs and adventures with me, con todo mi corazon, muchas gracias!<br /><br />Vaya con dios,<br /><br />BryceBryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-24085506824449139312013-05-17T12:48:00.003-07:002013-05-17T12:48:52.620-07:00Tango Lessons and ToursDay 171 - 174 (April 6, 2013 to April 9, 2013)<br />Buenos Aires, Argentina<br />Day's Ride: no bike....<br /><br />After getting rid of the bike and taking my chances on the black market, all of the serious work was out of the way and it was time to see a bit of Buenos Aires. I was eager to see the city; however, there was a sense of loss, almost disappointment after sending the bike home. I was also tired, really tired. Not physically tired, just travel tired. I was ready to go home. Still, I knew I needed to take the opportunity to see this amazing city before I left. With that in mind, I decided to take a bike (bicycle) tour and get the added bonus of a little workout as well. I convinced Dylan to come along as well.<br /><br />For about a 100 pesos we got some ricketty old beach cruisers and a four hour tour of BA.<br /><br />The first stop was the Argentine version of the White House. It's actually pink, so I think it should be called the Pink House.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0787_zpsfb4013ac.jpg" /><br /><br />According to our tour guide, when the original building was built, it was painted with a mixture of lime and buffalo blood, hence the pink color. <br /><br />Since this is a country with a fairly recent memory of military rule, oppression, and turbulent politics, there were tons of political banners and posters up in the square directly in front of the Pink House.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0786_zps142ff9c9.jpg" /><br /><br />The statue in the main square:<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0785_zpsd95b7476.jpg" /><br /><br />A look back in the opposite direction from the pink house:<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0784_zps06251159.jpg" /><br /><br />If you look down at the brick pavement you'll notice some odd white shapes painted on the ground. Those are supposed to represent women wearing headscarves. During the days of the military dictatorship, the mothers of people who had been "disappeared" by the government would come to this square wearing head scarves and try and exchange information in hopes on learning what had happened to their sons and daughters. It's such a haunting reminder of how different things were. <br /><br />We continued down to Puerto Madero. In the early 1900's this was one of the main ports in BA. However, by the 1920's it was too small to fit modern ships. The port gradually fell into disrepair until the early 90's when the city and local developers began turning it into a neighborhood. Now, it's the richest part of BA.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0788_zps336c294f.jpg" /><br /><br />The tour continued and we ran into a rival tour; they were riding bamboo bikes. I had heard about wooden bikes but had never seen one until now.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0789_zps79f746b6.jpg" /><br /><br />The tour continued down to an area called Boca. Boca is a brightly colored neighborhood near the water that is said to be the birthplace of Argentine Tango. The neighborhood was full of tourists and free Tango shows. <br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0791_zps05f1d686.jpg" /><br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0792_zps22f11c78.jpg" /><br /><br />While we were in Boca, Dylan and I actually ran into Bear, the rider that I had met on the ferry to Tierra del Fuego. Once again, it's amazing how small South America can feel sometimes when you are on a bike.<br /><br />The final stop on the tour was to a famous soccer stadium in Boca, home of the famous "Boca Juniors". Apparently, around the turn of the century names with English words were in vogue; the result were team names like "Boca Juniors", "Racing Club", and the "Old Boys".<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Last%20few%20days/IMG_0793_zps685cf8a6.jpg" /><br /><br />That about finished up the tour; we took our bikes back to the rental place and hoofed it back to the Hostel. <br /><br />The next day I ended up going Tango dancing with a girl that I had met back in Santiago over a month ago. I know next to nothing about Tango; I had actually taken a ballroom dancing class back in College but didn't remember a thing about it. Luckily, when we showed up to the dance hall, everyone was dancing Swing instead of Tango. I actually can Swing dance quite well; my date for the evening had never tried it before. Like some bad kung fu flick, the student had become the teacher. :<img border="0" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/lol8.gif" /> We ended up dancing for a couple of hours; the dancing eventually changed to Tango and I was struggling to remember just the basic steps. <br /><br />The Argentinos in Buenos Aires are some serious night owls. Like most Argentinos, they don't eat dinner until after 10 and they don't usually go to bed until after midnight. The younger crowd in BA take it to a whole new level. Most of the clubs in town don't really get hopping until 2:00 AM and usually close up somewhere around 7:00 AM to 8:00 AM! After finishing dancing, we didn't get dinner until around 2:30 AM. After we finished eating around 3:30 AM, the people that I was with asked what we were going to do next! I was barely awake at this point and the beers that I had just drank weren't helping; I eventually found my way to a bus and headed back to the Hostel. I didn't end up getting to sleep until 4:30 AM.<br /><br />The next day was my last day in Buenos Aires. I had over calculated my need for Pesos and was about 800 to rich. knowing that I wouldn't be able to change these back to Dollars in the states, I asked Dylan if he wanted to buy some pesos at a really good rate. Luckily he had an old hundred dollar bill that he wanted to get rid of, so things worked out great. This left me with 180 pesos to make it to the airport and buy dinner....<br /><br />(to be continued......)Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-82468119537491111462013-05-17T12:47:00.003-07:002013-05-17T12:47:43.603-07:00Gotta Love the Black (Blue) Market!Day 170 (April 5, 2013)<br />Buenos Aires, Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 0 Miles<br /><br />I woke up with a little bit of a headache after the Kilkenny. Unfortunately, I had a pressing appointment: the final payment and paperwork for shipping the bike home. After another filling breakfast of coffee and bread, I walked downtown to the office of the shipping company that was handling my bike. The day before, Peter, Marichio, and I had all decided to meet up at the office together and make the payments at the same time for reasons that I will explain in a second.<br /><br />We all arrived at the office at the same time and, in typical Argentinian fashion, were told that the agent wasn't ready to see us yet and that we should come back in an hour. We went down the street to a McDonalds, drank some coffee, checked the exchange rates on our phones, and discussed our gameplan for payment.<br /><br />When shipping your bike you are presented with the option of paying in cash with American Dollars or Argentinian Pesos at the official rate. If you're savvy concerning "Dolar Blue", It doesn't take a genius to realize that you can save a ton of money by paying in pesos.<br /><br />As I've mentioned before, one of the huge benefits of traveling in Argentina right now is Dolar Blue, aka, the black market currency exchange for American Dollars. The official exchange rate is around 5.13 Argentinian Pesos for every Dollar. The black market exchange is currently around 8.2-8.4 for every Dollar. The rates are usually better for larger amounts of money and larger denominations. So, if you're changing a couple thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills, you can get a pretty good deal. Of course, in order to get the black market rate, you have to haggle a little bit, go into some potentially shady areas, and deal with some somewhat shady characters. For these reasons, we all decided to team up, combine our cash, and spend some time finding the best deal possible. Furthermore, I think we all felt a little more safe having three people present instead of doing it on our own.<br /><br />We went back to the shipping office, met with the agent, and received our final price for shipping. My bill came out to 9,450 Pesos or $1,838. Doing some quick math and estimating an exchange rate of at least 8, I figured that I could save around $700 by using Dolar Blue.<br /><br />I had pulled out about $2,000 in hundred dollar bills while in Uruguay in preparation for this moment; I decided that I would change about $1,500 total into Pesos: $1,200 to pay for the shipping and $300 to pay for my final 5 days in Buenos Aires. Peter and Marichio already had a fair amount of pesos, but they still had about $600 that they wanted to change as well. Together, we had $2,100 to change and we all figured that we could get a good rate.<br /><br />Unfortunately, for some reason, everyone decided that I should be the one to carry the cash, so I had to walk around downtown Buenos Aires, a city notorious for pickpockets, with a huge wad of $100 bills in my pocket while Marichio (who's Colombian and speaks fluent Spanish) negotiated with money changers on the street. I had both of my hands in my pockets the entire time; one hand clutching my wallet, the other clutching my pocket knife. As if a pocket knife would help me stop a pick pocket...<br /><br />We finally settled on a woman named Blanca who was offering us 8.25. Apparently the rates had gone down during Semana Santa.<br /><br />Blanca lead us to a building that looked strangely familiar. After we stepped inside and she showed us the freight elevator, I realized that this was one of the same buildings that I had changed money in last week. There's nothing like stepping into a freight elevator with a couple thousand dollars in your pocket, wondering if you're about to get robbed at gunpoint by some thugs that are waiting for you on the second floor. Figuring that I didn't have much to lose other than thousands of Dollars and possibly my life, I decided to sneak some pictures with my phone. Here's Blanca and the freight elevator:<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%205/IMG_0772_zpsde2b077a.jpg" /> <br /><br />We got off on the third floor and walked down a long hallway:<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%205/IMG_0773_zps9348ef17.jpg" /><br /><br />Blanca stopped at an unmarked doorway, gave a little knock, and lead us inside.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%205/IMG_0774_zps133f8782.jpg" /><br /><br />After we told them how much money we had to change, they told us that we would have to wait while they ran out and got more Pesos. I figured that this was the point where they would run out and get their crew of armed thugs to come back and rob us. <img border="0" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/mwink.gif" /> Pocket knives aren't much protection against Pistolas...<img border="0" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eekers.gif" /><br /><br />Fortunately, they were true to their word, and after about 10 minutes of waiting, a big Argentinian dude came in with our pesos. I guess it's bad for business to rob your customers. We stepped into the money changing booth and slapped down our hundreds. <br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%205/IMG_0776_zpsb199742b.jpg" /><br /><br />The man behind the glass slid us back an enormous stack of hundred Peso notes and we got to work examining each one to ensure that we weren't getting "truchas" (counterfeits), which are apparently quite common. After a lengthy examination and a few exchanges of damaged currency, we finally had our money. We thanked Blanca and headed back to the shipping office to pay our fees.<br /><br />The payment was pretty straightforward. We went up to the cashier on the 7th floor of the office building, gave him our cash, and received our Air Freight Way Bills and a shipping date. My bike was supposed to fly out the next day on a United Flight and reach Portland by Monday.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%205/IMG_0780_zps6a5c2e4d.jpg" /><br /><br />So, here are some fast facts concerning my shipping experience:<br /><br />Actual cost of shipping by air from Buenos Aires to Portland, OR: $1,838.52<br /><br />ATM fees to remove lots of cash in Uruguay: $35<br />Referral fee paid to Dakar Motos: $85<br />Shipping Cost after Converting to Dolar Blue: $1,145.50<br />-----------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />Total Shipping Cost: $1,265.50<br /><br />So, in all actuality, I saved $573 on shipping. That's way, way, way cheaper than any of the other options. You would be crazy to ship from anywhere else. I could have done it even cheaper too if I would have thought ahead and used Western Union to wire myself the money in Uruguay. Then I would have only had to pay $5 to get all of that cash.<br /><br />After getting all of our papers in order, we went to a nearby Parilla to celebrate.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%205/IMG_0783_zpsd5d1ddfc.jpg" /><br /><br />I had a mixed plate with short ribs, loin, chicken breast, normal sausage, and blood sausage. Delicious!<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%205/IMG_0781_zps8f3fb73a.jpg" /><br /><br />In any event, things are about finished for me. The bike is gone and after gorging myself on meat, I had the realization that my two wheels to freedom were now out of the picture. It's strangely depressing to realize that you can't just hop on your bike and take off whenever you feel the urge. Furthermore, without a bike you are suddenly reduced to just another backpacking tourist. Blah! I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling sorry for myself, then, pulled myself together, went out and bought some cigars, and celebrated!<br /><br />As far as this ride report is concerned; I'm not quite finished. I'm going to start working on a little summary and some observations concerning the trip, as well as a little summary of my last few days in BA. Furthermore, I've been asked by a few people to give a presentation on my trip when I return to the states; with that in mind, I would like to enlist the help of all of the people that have been or are reading my crazy ramblings. If you are reading this and are willing, I'm looking for nominations for the best pictures from each country, aside from the Salar pictures in Bolivia. Thanks in advance!Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-42733222209051193932013-05-17T12:46:00.000-07:002013-05-17T12:46:00.358-07:00The Final Ride and Crating the Bike<span style="font-family: inherit;">Day 169 (April 4, 2013)<br />Buenos Aires, Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 20.5 Miles</span><br style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" /><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Dr+Carlos+Tejedor+1379,+Florida+-+Vicente+L%C3%B3pez,+Buenos+Aires+(1602)+Argentina&daddr=Au.+Teniente+General+Pablo+Ricchieri&hl=en&geocode=FVHx8P0d6xqD_CnvUbuCLre8lTHRnt5YEhc7Yg%3BF%20%20eQ97f0dyfqC_A&aq=4&oq=aeropuerto&sll=-34.784765,-58.52005&sspn=0.110533,0.220757&mra=dme&mrsp=1&sz=12&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.693074,-58.514557&spn=0.541985,0.878906&z=10&output=embed" style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" width="640"></iframe><br style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" /><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Dr+Carlos+Tejedor+1379,+Florida+-+Vicente+L%C3%B3pez,+Buenos+Aires+(1602)+Argentina&daddr=Au.+Teniente+General+Pablo+Ricchieri&hl=en&geocode=FVHx8P0d6xqD_CnvUbuCLre8lTHRnt5YEhc7Yg%3BFeQ97f0dyfqC_A&aq=4&oq=aeropuerto&sll=-34.784765,-58.52005&sspn=0.110533,0.220757&mra=dme&mrsp=1&sz=12&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.693074,-58.514557&spn=0.541985,0.878906&z=10">View Larger Map</a><br /><br />Started off the day with a little bike cleaning. A couple people have warned me that pulling a muddy bike off the plane can mean fines when you arrive in the states; I figured a little pressure washing would solve that.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/IMG_0768_zps192cf5be.jpg" /><br /><br />Even though I asked very politely, they wouldn't let me run the hose. I cringed every time the guy running the pressure washer ran it over the wheels. It seems like all the workers at car washes have a tendency to aim straight for the wheel bearings.<br /><br />With all of the mud from the Carretera Austral finally washed off, I headed back to Dakar Motos to load up and get ready to head to the airport with Peter, a Brit on an Africa Twin.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/DSC00703_zpsa18befb8.jpg" /><br /><br />I had a great time riding the last 20 miles through Buenos Aires rush hour traffic. A few more minutes of white lining and passing on the right had me wishing that I didn't have to send the bike home just yet.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/DSC00704_zpsf5b7c7ab.jpg" /><br /><br />We arrived at the airport and linked up with another rider, a Colombian on a BMW F650. Eventually, we were lead into a warehouse where we had our bikes weighed (I came in at 220 kilos fully loaded) and then put on a palates.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/DSC00706_zps7116a05a.jpg" /><br /><br />The palates for all three bikes were of the same length; I had been expecting something more "crate" like. However, with the palate already pre-built, the only things that I could do to my bike to reduce the overall dimensions of the palate, and hence the cost of shipping, were to make it as short and light as possible.<br /><br />With my bike up on the palate, I set to work removing the windscreen, handlebars, support struts, and front tire. I had been planning on removing the rear wheel two, but eventually decided against it due to the fact that the Aduana staff were getting ready to go on a three hour lunch break. I really didn't want to be hanging out at the airport all day while I waited for the Argentinians to get their act together. I also had to drain all of the gas out. I gave it one of the guys who was doing the crating for us.<br /><br />With the bike resting on the front forks, the workers built a little wooden bracket to keep it from moving around, then began strapping the bike down with nylon webbing.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/DSC00707_zps0771fd43.jpg" /><br /><br />With the bike secured to the pallet, I began cramming my gear into all of the available nooks and crannies. For some reason, you aren't allowed to put camping gear on the pallet with your bike which meant that I would now be stuck lugging around my tent and sleeping bag for the next few days. Luckily, we were allowed to put riding gear on the pallet. At least I don't have to wear that white body armor through the airport when I fly home...<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/DSC00715_zpsc3c7db99.jpg" /><br /><br />The next step was the scanner. A forklikft came over, picked up my bike, placed it on a little conveyor, let the Aduana people run it through their massive x-ray machine, then picked it up and brought it back.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/DSC00711_zpsc9e67158.jpg" /><br /><br />The final step involved wrapping the entire bike in massive swaths of plastic wrap. <br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/DSC00718_zps665b583a.jpg" /><br /><br />I tried to get some more pictures of the final product, but one of the Aduana ladies finally noticed my camera and told me that pictures were prohibited in the loading bay. Bah humbug!<br /><br />I said one last fair well to my Caballo de Hierro, my faithful steed "El Senior", and then headed out with Peter and Marichio (the Colombian rider) to catch a micro bus back into the city. I decided to not be too nostalgic; that could wait a few days until things settled down. Besides, I wasn't finished with the whole shipping process yet; the final price and payment for the shipment would all be worked out the next day, downtown in the freight office headquarters.<br /><br />That night I met up with Dylan, Corey, and Steve (aka RexBuck from "South America by Geezer") at the Kilkenny, a famous Irish pub in downtown BA. Thanks for the recommendation, diegotek!<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%204/IMG_0770_zps5182e259.jpg" /><br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/friday.gif" />Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-80177014199619188932013-05-17T12:42:00.004-07:002013-05-17T12:42:54.104-07:00Back to BADay 168 (April 3, 2013)<br />Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay to Buenos Aires, Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 13 Miles<br style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" /><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Benito+Correa&daddr=-34.5891586,-58.3808398+to:Carlos+Villate&hl=en&geocode=FQqb7_0dQ6CF_A%3BFRo28P0d2S2F_CmlZCcQscq8l%20%20THSJIiuYsMi-g%3BFdAZ8f0dtRSD_A&sll=-34.572168,-58.422546&sspn=0.221634,0.441513&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=11&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.488448,-58.123169&spn=1.086636,1.757813&z=9&output=embed" style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" width="640"></iframe><br style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" /><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Benito+Correa&daddr=-34.5891586,-58.3808398+to:Carlos+Villate&hl=en&geocode=FQqb7_0dQ6CF_A%3BFRo28P0d2S2F_CmlZCcQscq8lTHSJIiuYsMi-g%3BFdAZ8f0dtRSD_A&sll=-34.572168,-58.422546&sspn=0.221634,0.441513&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=11&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.488448,-58.123169&spn=1.086636,1.757813&z=9">View Larger Map</a><br /><br />There are multiple options for ferries between Colonia and Buenos Aires; unfortunately, due to a long holiday week for Semana Santa in Argentina, nearly everything was booked. When I logged on to reserve my ticket, there was only one slot left and it was on the most expensive boat! So, I ended up paying $150 to sail back to BA. <br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%203/DSC00693_zps06117ba5.jpg" /><br /><br />Fortunately, I was on the fast boat. So, instead of taking four hours to cross the river back to BA, it only took one. I was also sitting in first class drinking free champagne during that hour, so things weren't that bad. Sure beats riding 300 miles of flat, straight, four lane highway.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%203/DSC00694_zps5e57054c.jpg" /><br /><br />I got some strange looks walking into the first class section like some lost storm trooper in my smelly riding gear. Fortunately, after the first glass of champagne, I didn't really care.<br /><br />After disembarking and getting my paperwork from the Aduana, I set out for Dakar Motos. <br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%203/DSC00695_zpsc7055cb2.jpg" /><br /><br />I'm staying at Dakar Motos tonight. There are several other riders here as well, including the two Canadians that I met in El Calafate and rode with out to the Perrito Moreno Glacier. Three of us are taking our bikes to the airport in the morning.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%203/DSC00700_zpsfa20854b.jpg" /><br /><br />Dylan just showed up a few minutes ago as well and Corey and RexBuck are in town somewhere too. Tomorrow I get to disassemble my bike and crate it up. Should be fun!Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-37683709660860989172013-05-17T12:41:00.002-07:002013-05-17T12:41:15.341-07:00Uruguay in the Rain<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 167 (April 2, 2013)<br />Montevideo, Uruguay to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay<br />Day's Ride: 111 Miles<br /><br /><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Ituzaingo&daddr=Washington+Barbot&geocode=FR5k6_0dlmGm_A%3BFcP_8f0dV02N_A&sll=-34.471839,-57.845528&sspn=0.006934,0.013797&hl=en&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=16&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.57443,-57.068481&spn=2.170979,3.515625&z=8&output=embed" style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" width="640"></iframe><br /><a href="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Ituzaingo&daddr=Washington+Barbot&geocode=FR5k6_0dlmGm_A%3BFcP_8f0dV02N_A&sll=-34.471839,-57.845528&sspn=0.006934,0.013797&hl=en&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=16&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.57443,-57.068481&spn=2.170979,3.515625&z=8">View Larger Map</a><br /><br />For some reason, it decided to rain today. Luckily, I didn't have far to ride. Still, it was a tad annoying. I had thought that I left all of the rain back in Chile. <br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%202/DSC00689_zps115775b9.jpg" /><br /><br />After about an hour and a half of riding on a fairly boring, wet four lane highway, I pulled into Colonia del Sacramento. I had planned on camping to save a little money; however, the rain put a damper on that and I hunted down a hostel.<br /><br />After I got situated I struck up a conversation with a group of Argentinian guys who had ridden their bicycles up to Brazil and back from Buenos Aires. They were really digging the bike and were asking for advice about doing a motorcycle trip of their own on Ruta 40. I told them to buy XR250 Tornados (or maybe even a Super Sherpa like John) and just go for it. We had a good talk, and, in typical Argentino/Uruguayo fashion, we shared the Matte gourd:<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%202/DSC00692_zpsc574a9a9.jpg" /><br /><br />Note the Matte gourd in my hand and the guy in blue holding the thermos. Got to love matte culture!<br /><br />The rain continued unabated so I went and found a Parilla so that I could spend the last of my Uruguayan pesos on some asado. After lunch, the rain was still going full tilt, so I went to the Hostel and hung out for a while. Surfed the internet, saw that both of the most recent female marines to volunteer for the Infantry Officers Course failed on the first day. Can't say that I'm surprised. Still, I imagine that there are a few out there who can make it. I also saw that Buenos Aires is underwater. I hope that doesn't interfere with the bike shipping. I finally got bored of sitting around, grabbed my rain jacket, and went for a quick walk around the old city.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%202/IMG_0762_zps6b6b25c4.jpg" /> <br /><br />Colonia del Sacramento was founded by the Portuguese back at the end of the 17th century as a base to smuggle goods into Buenos Aires. It changed hands about six or seven times between the Spanish and Portuguese for the next hundred years until it was finally in Spanish control for good.<br /><br />The old part of town is really cool. The old walls are still up in some spots and the streets are all paved in cobble stones.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%202/IMG_0764_zps49c8196e.jpg" /><br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%202/IMG_0765_zpsf1d24cc7.jpg" /><br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%202/IMG_0766_zpse1933872.jpg" /><br /><br />Tomorrow I catch the ferry back to Buenos Aires. I hope it doesn't get canceled due to weather. RexBuck of "South America by Geezer" fame is in town and Corey should be getting in as well; maybe we'll have a crating party!</span>Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-25986782354595339182013-04-30T15:15:00.002-07:002013-04-30T15:15:13.633-07:00Back in the Game<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 167 (April 1, 2013)<br />La Paloma, Uruguay<br />Day's Ride: 141 Miles<br /></span><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=Rincon&geocode=FS0w7_0dlKrF_A%3BFc5i6_0d6G-m_A&aq=&sll=-34.881425,-56.118164&sspn=1.766413,3.532104&hl=en&mra=prev&ie=UTF8&t=8&ll=-34.867905,-55.568848&spn=2.163288,3.515625&z=8&output=embed" style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;" width="640"></iframe><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />I spent the past two days doing absolutely nothing productive. I sat in a hammock and read books, went to the beach and sat in the sand, watched some tv shows on my laptop, and generally just bummed around.<br /><br />I woke up this morning totally refreshed and ready to ride! I got on the road again and was blessed with an amazing tailwind. I sailed west towards Montevideo with the music pumping and the engine humming at 70.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%201/DSC00686_zps7d7a59fe.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The little that I've seen of Uruguay seems to be all farmland. The roads are nice though, and the people are super chill. They seem a little more relaxed in general than the Argentinos. Also, toll roads are free for motos! Uruguay is winning in my book!<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%201/DSC00688_zps216dd3dd.jpg" /><br /><br />I made it back into Montevideo around 2:00 PM and spent the next 30 minutes on the phone with my bank trying to get money out of my checking account. I think the lesson that I've learned from all of this is that before embarking on a trip like this, you should open up a second checking account and bring an extra debit card with you that you keep locked up in a box in case something happens to your primary account. Or get a pin for your credit card so you can get a cash advance.<br /><br />After taking care of some financial business, I walked around in search of a Mercado. Montevideo seems like a very cool place. I'm a little disappointed that I won't have time to really explore it.<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%201/IMG_0758_zps5f13327d.jpg" /><br /></span><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Apr%201/IMG_0759_zpse2cbfe23.jpg" style="background-color: #333333; color: #cccccc; font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /><br />Tomorrow I head over to Sacramento de Colonia to camp out for one final night in Uruguay. On the 3rd I take the ferry back to BA and head over to Dakar Motos to link up with Corey and get ready to head to the airport. I can't believe that the end is so close.</span><div>
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Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-48766995178110840052013-04-30T15:10:00.000-07:002013-04-30T15:10:28.868-07:00Slacking...Days 165 & 166 (March 30-31, 2013)<br />La Paloma, Uruguay<br />Riding? Nah....<br /><br />Ooooo seashells!!!<br /><br /><img border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2029-30/IMG_0755_zps8cc356cf.jpg" />Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-34671525728962097912013-04-18T16:42:00.003-07:002013-04-18T16:48:25.407-07:00Frustration in Montevideo, Heading For the Beach<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 164 (March 29, 2013)<br />Montevideo, Uruguay to La Paloma, Uruguay<br />Day's Ride: 143 Miles</span><span style="background-color: #999999;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br style="line-height: 20px;" />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Treinta+y+Tres&daddr=Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FeVg6_0dkF6m_A%3BFTkw7_0dlqrF_A&sll=-34.653686,-54.156804&sspn=0.013839,0.027595&mra=me&mrsp=1&sz=15&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.840859,-55.579834&spn=2.164,3.515625&z=8&output=embed" style="line-height: 20px;" width="640"></iframe><br style="line-height: 20px;" />
<small style="line-height: 20px;"><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Treinta+y+Tres&daddr=Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FeVg6_0dkF6m_A%3BFTkw7_0dlqrF_A&sll=-34.653686,-54.156804&sspn=0.013839,0.027595&mra=me&mrsp=1&sz=15&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.840859,-55.579834&spn=2.164,3.515625&z=8" target="_blank">View Larger Map</a></small></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Sorry for slacking on these reports lately, I think I'm just starting to get tired after being on the road for a while.<br /><br /> Before leaving Montevideo for the coast, I wanted to lock down a bunch of American Dollars in order to ensure that I would be able to have the cash on hand when I headed back to Argentina so that I could utilized the Black Market exchange and get a big discount on my shipping and living costs during my final week in South America.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I failed to take into account Semana Santa, the holy week leading up to Easter. I left the hostel and walked straight into a ghost town. Not a single bank was open and many of the ATM's were locked up and unable to disperse cash. I then had to make a very expensive international phone call ($100) on my cell phone to Bank of America and explain to them why I needed them to not issue me a new card for a few more days. I kept getting transfered between departments and supervisors who kept explaining to me that they couldn't do what I wanted and that I would have to talk to someone else. By the end of the call, I was about ready to explode. I kept explaining to them that every minute on the line was costing me several dollars. This whole identity theft thing has turned into a huge hassle. I had tried using Skype to call, but the internet connection was so bad that they couldn't understand me.<br /><br /> These events left me a little frustrated, and I was seriously considering punching a few holes in the wall. Fortunately, I decided to take a cue from the Uruguayans: tranquilo, amigo, tranquilo.<br /><br /> I decided that I would just have to ditch Montevideo for the time being and come back at the beginning of the week and try and get my money. Before I left I booked a ferry ride back to Buenos Aires for the 3rd of April so I wouldn't have to ride another 300 miles around the Rio Plata in order to get back. It was a bit pricey; nearly $150 for me and the bike. Since it will be the end of a big holiday for the Argentinos, most of the ferries were already totally booked and the only open spot I could get was on the very expensive fast boat between Colonia and Buenos Aires.<br /><br /><br /> After getting everything straightened out as best as possible, I got on my bike and started riding east towards Punta del Diablo. However, after about a half an hour of riding, I realized just how tired I was of riding. I love the bike that I'm on, it's done extremely well and it's a blast to ride in the dirt. But after nearly 20,000 miles of riding a thumper day in and day out, I think I'm about ready for a break. After an hour of riding, I decided that I didn't really want to ride anymore and I began looking for a beach town that was a little closer. I ended up turning off the main road and going to a small town called La Paloma.<br /><br /> I had planned on camping, but ended up finding a nice, cheap hostel that was pretty much empty.<br /><br /> <img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/proxy/F4MsVfJLDFWuuGhM31IY65J8KOUozWNaZjSQGrndUf0aj-IjymvebxPHkkAsM3iBB9bMXEv8kmLfESteDcvvcIVfi-1K-atwQxlvh7sRMG2_L_1SB5FjeSG0Fa2a7fsIksbtyglB3M1-fkCpNg" /><br /><br /> I stashed my gear inside, and then signed in on the register. I have a little tradition for signing into Hostels. First, I always use a different passport number because I can't be bothered to dig mine out and actually look at it. Second, I always try to think of a creative and totally bogus occupation to put down on the form. Because the typical hostel worker doesn't read english, it's kind of a little inside joke with myself. Today I was a "fighter pilot".<br /><br /> <img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/sjATczwWc2pVc2kDIUXWAehIF9QdYrj4w1i9dor2PIV78Ws_SDDjQD2lNS5gC8_ae7ed08QP5Q6yFtorOWCrBoiDZVACL0kDelHiHz2Bn-g4cWH0DkbppjfmXF1uzSov-iqUge1HmhGhPfmZWA" /><br /><br />I've been a "janitor", a "storm trooper", a "hobo", an "adventurista", and a "professional motorcycle racer". Once I was even a "mathematician". It's always fun to try and think of something random and new.<br /><br />In any event, I'm going to take a little vacation from my vacation for a few days, so I probably won't put up much of a post today or tomorrow. I'm going to the beach to drink beer and work on my tan. <img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/proxy/5JPG1i2Yh-MNuPQATj5mHWQbbwwtKG2zghboq-Bz3oG2nmnWfiEPdww_-SnInSFYfabEXT1xrefqGu_7g7HeMILh8w" /> Chao.</span>
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Day 163 (March 28, 2013)<br />
Rosario, Uruguay to
Montevideo, Uruguay<br />
Day's Ride: 83 Miles<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=Treinta+y+Tres&hl=en&geocode=FXJc9P0dqtuU_A%3BFeVg6_0dkF6m_A&sll=-34.90339,-56.205025&sspn=0.013797,0.027595&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=15&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-34.72807,-56.947632&spn=2.16696,3.515625&z=8&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br />
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<small><span style="font-size: large;"></span></small><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><small>After sleeping in at Damian's house, we took our time starting the day.
Germain arrived a little later carrying a big box of donuts and we all sat
around talking, sharing a gourd of matte, and eating sugary pastries. Passing
the matte gourd around is a big part of the culture down here, especially in
Uruguay.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Germain
eventually took off and headed back to Montevideo and his family while Damian
and I jumped on the little Yamaha and headed over to his garage to pick up our
bikes.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/DSC00673_zpsbbdec2c9.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We got the bikes and went back to Damian's house where we spent some time
cleaning them and doing a little routing maintenance. Damian's mom came by a
little later and brought us some lunch; breaded chicken and rice with hardboiled
eggs. It was delicious! We all sat around and in Damian's backyard and talked
for a while and shared some more
matte.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Damian and his
mother gave me a very thorough explanation of Uruguayan culture and the
prevailing customs. They talk with the same accent as the Argentinos so I was
concentrating extremely hard to catch everything they said. Even then, I think I
only understood about 70% of what was said; I had to pick up the rest by
context.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>In Spanish,
the double "L" is pronounced with a "y" sound as in "yell". So, a word like
"amarillo" (yellow) is pronounced "am-a-ree-yo". However, for some reason the
Argentinians and Uruguayans pronounce the "y" sound as "sha" (as in "sham" or
"shackle"). So, "amarillo" becomes "am-a-ree-show". For example, when I first
arrived in Argentina and asked for a towel (in Spanish "toalla", pronounced
"twa-ya") they didn't know what I was saying. Eventually, it dawned on them that
I wanted a towel and they told me that it was pronounced "twa-sha". You would be
amazed at how that simple change between "ya" and "sha" makes it so difficult to
understand people. Add to that the fact that they have tons of slang and
expressions, and it can be almost impossible to figure out what people are
saying. I find myself having to ask everyone I talk to to repeat
themselves.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>A couple of
Damian's friends stopped by after lunch and I was amazed to see one of them
wearing a USMC shirt.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/DSC00675_zpsebd7a456.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Turns out that he is a Sergeant in the Uruguayan Marines. He has done
some peacekeeping missions in Haiti and was very interested to hear about my
experiences in Afghanistan.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Throughout my time with Damian, he kept refusing to allow me to repay him
for his hospitality. So, while he was busy talking to his friends, I snuck
around the corner to a little tienda and bought him a bottle of wine that he
could share with his girlfriend. I made some incomprehensible scribbles on the
back:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/DSC00678_zpsa689dfe7.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>When I gave him the wine he was super excited; this set off a whole new
wave of generosity and he ended up giving me a matte gourd on which he wrote in
english "for my friend Bryce". The generosity of complete strangers continues to
amaze me.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Eventually,
Damian and I got our stuff together and set off for Montevideo. He was heading
to the city to see his girlfriend and so we rode
together.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/DSC00680_zpsfe510162.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We got to the city and I had Damian sign my
tank:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/DSC00676_zps0d26a1d5.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>What a cool guy! I told him that when he comes to the States, he needs to
look me up so I can let him stay at my house (assuming I have
one).</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/DSC00682_zpsfdc2c1a3.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I got settled into my hostel then went down the street to find a market
that was still open. It's "Semana Santa" or Holy Week right now and everything
is closed. Downtown Montevideo was like a ghost town. I finally found a tiny
tienda that was still open and bought some food. As I was leaving, I saw a sight
that totally exemplifies Uruguayan
culture:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/IMG_0752_zpse2b1dff0.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>This guy was sipping matte out of his gourd with one hand and holding
onto his "termo" (thermos) with the other, all while kicking a soccer ball
against the wall. I had a good laugh and snuck this picture. In case I haven't
explained it, Matte is a drink. You take a bunch of matte leaves, pack them down
into a hollowed out gourd, insert a steel straw, add hot water from a thermos,
and then sip it until it's time to refill the water. It's very caffeinated and
has a bitter taste. I actually like it quite a bit; however, the fact that you
have to carry a thermos everywhere kind of keeps me from getting too crazy about
it. However, the Uruguayans, and to a lesser extent the Argentinians, are crazy
about it and it's rare to see someone not sipping matte as they walk down the
street with a thermos tucked under their
arm.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Before cooking
dinner, I decided to get a little exercise and went for a run down on the
rambla. The Montevideoans were out in force drinking matte, fishing, and
generally having a good time.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2028/IMG_0753_zpsfef28db6.jpg" /></small></span>
</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><!-- / message --><!-- sig --></span><br />Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-26992685618872661182013-04-09T10:22:00.001-07:002013-04-09T10:22:06.870-07:00Uruguay!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Day 162 (March 27, 2013)<br />Buenos Aires, Argentina to Rosario, Uruguay<br />Day's
Ride: 273 Miles<br /><br />Once again, google maps isn't quite tracking on the most
current border crossings, so, you'll have to imagine a connection across the
border. I've included two maps to show the majority of the route:</span><br /></span><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Libertad&daddr=Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FT7q7_0dlyOF_A%3BFY8xCP4dF7yD_A&sll=-33.001897,-58.488979&sspn=0.056434,0.110378&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=13&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-33.806538,-58.337402&spn=3.194841,7.03125&z=7&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Libertad&daddr=Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FT7q7_0dlyOF_A%3BFY8xCP4dF7yD_A&sll=-33.001897,-58.488979&sspn=0.056434,0.110378&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=13&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-33.806538,-58.337402&spn=3.194841,7.03125&z=7" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">View Larger
Map</span></a></small><br /><small></small><br /><small></small><br /><br /><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=136%2FPuente+Libertador+General+San+Mart%C3% ADn&daddr=Sarandi&hl=en&geocode=FdJFB_4dbR-H_A%3BFQ5r9P0dsd2U_A&sll=-34.315013,-57.353311&sspn=0.013895,0.027595&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=15&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-33.82023,-57.925415&spn=2.190481,3.515625&z=8&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=136%2FPuente+Libertador+General+San+Mart%C3%ADn&daddr=Sarandi&hl=en&geocode=FdJFB_4dbR-H_A%3BFQ5r9P0dsd2U_A&sll=-34.315013,-57.353311&sspn=0.013895,0.027595&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=15&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-33.82023,-57.925415&spn=2.190481,3.515625&z=8" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">View Larger Map</span></a></small><br /><small></small><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><small>I was actually quite happy to leave Buenos Aires. It seems like a very
cool city and I'm sure that I'm going to enjoy it immensely when I return;
however, I'm not much of a city guy, and the crowds and people and general chaos
tend to stress me out. What's more, it's generally impossible to find a good
place to put your bike and you either end up paying a lot for a parking garage
or stress out about it being stolen from whatever hidey-hole that you stashed it
in.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/DSC00664_zpsa80a2341.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>The most common way to reach Uruguay from BA is to take a ferry straight
to Montevideo or Colonia. However, I decided that I would try one of the land
borders a little further north. The ride to the closest crossing over the Rio
Plata was all flat, fast
autopista.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I found yet
another name for a speed bump:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/DSC00665_zpse1506bf8.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Lomo de burro. Awesome.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>A little before the border, I ran into the back of a huge line of cars. I
had heard stories of this border being closed by protesters in past, and I was a
little worried that I was about to encounter a similar
situation.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/DSC00666_zps42e002a9.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Being on a motorcycle (normal traffic rules don't apply <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/icon10.gif" title="Grin" />), I decided to ride up to
the front of the line and see what was going on. I found a few cops on bikes
about half way up and asked them what was going on. I couldn't really understand
them, so I just kept going forward. They didn't try and stop me, so I figured
everything was okay. </small><br /><small></small><br /><small>As I neared the front, I ran into two bikers with Uruguayan plates. I
pulled over and started talking to them. Their names were Damian and Germain and
they were just returning from a 10 day trip to Chile. We hit it off right away
and were soon talking like old
friends.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/DSC00670_zpsabceaee4.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I was asking Damian about campsites near the coast when he invited me to
stay at his house in a small town called Rosario that was on the route I was
planning on taking! So cool! I love it when stuff like this happens.
</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>The aduana and
immigration offices for both countries were both on the Uruguayan side and
eventually we were allowed to cross the river and get our paperwork taken care
of.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/DSC00668_zpsdf6acf21.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>As soon as I had "officially" entered the country, I added Urugay to the
list on my wind screen.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/DSC00671_zps3e7b1536.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>That makes 15 countries on this trip if you count the
States.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We left the
aduana and I fell in behind the Uruguayos on their sport
bikes.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/DSC00672_zps68b23fed.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Luckily, they rode quite slow and I was able to keep up with them just
fine. </small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We made it into
Rosario just after night fall and pulled up in front of Damian's house. Germain
said his goodbyes and went in search of a hotel. Damian and I unloaded our bikes
then rode them about five blocks away to his garage. After we had locked
everything up in the garage, I assumed that we were just going to walk back;
however, Damian pulled out a little 1986 50cc Yamaha scooter and we rode double
back to his house. It was quite a sight; two big dudes in full riding gear
riding this tiny little bike that's bottoming out and barely able to make it up
hills. <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/yelrotflmao.gif" title="rofl" /> Luckily, there isn't
a stigma against guys riding pillion in South
America.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We made it
back to Damian's place, changed out of our gear and walked to a nearby roadside
food cart and got some milanesa and some beer. I tried to pay, but Damian
refused and told me that he was going to get it. What a
guy!</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We went back to
his place and ate. After we were done he showed me his lawn mowers (he called
them "yard machines") in the back
yard:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2027/IMG_0751_zps94f63cec.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I'll admit, the little conejos (rabbits) do a good job of keeping the
grass down. If I ever get a yard someday, I'll have to buy a couple of rabbits.
Then, when winter comes along and the grass stops growing, I can just eat the
rabbits....</small></span></span>Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-81098805001120311762013-04-09T10:13:00.002-07:002013-04-09T10:13:48.359-07:00Buenos Aires<div id="post_message_21041188">
Day 161 (March 26, 2013)<br />Buenos Aires,
Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 0 Miles<br /><br />Last night after posting, I went out
with a couple of people that I knew from Santiago and saw a concert.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2026/IMG_0742_zpsfea75efa.jpg" /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">It was good to get out in the city and do something different for a
change. Something like going to a massive percussion concert in the middle of BA
and dancing like a fool. I had a good time!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Today I
took sometime to buy a plane ticket home and do some other administrative stuff.
A one way flight from BA to Portland, Oregon cost nearly $1,600! It's not even
until the 10th of April; I figured that would be enough of a buffer to get the
costs down a little. Turns out I was wrong. I was able to use some credit card
points to get the cost down to around a $1,000 but that's still not
cheap.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">I sent out some job applications (<img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/puke2.gif" title="Puke1" />) today as well; I'm seeing
if I can get a job with a Hot Shot crew this summer. I don't meet the initial
qualifications, but I think my military expierence would be just as good. How
challenging can it be to hike around and make fire lines in a national forest?
Actually, now that I think about it, it's probably pretty
challenging.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">I went to lunch today at a famous cafe
in downtown BA.</span><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2026/IMG_0748_zpse4485386.jpg" /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">I'm not totally up to speed on this place, but it's been open for over
150 years and Borges (a famous Argentinian author) ate here, so it sounded cool
to me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">I've been pretty impressed by BA so far. It's
very modern and fairly clean and the people seem pretty nice. You can always
tell how modern a city is by the number of Starbucks and McDonalds that they
have. BA has about one of each on every other block which means that it's about
on par with an American city.</span><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2026/IMG_0749_zps16ec65f5.jpg" /><br /><br />Since
I've got about a week to kill before I have to have the bike at the airport, I'm
going to ride over to Uruguay and spend some time hanging out on the beach,
working on my tan, and trying to get back in shape. However, when I get back to
BA, I'm going to dedicate some serious time to honing my Tango skills...<img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/mwink.gif" title="Wink" /> </div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-14817614403319927412013-04-08T14:03:00.001-07:002013-04-08T14:03:04.514-07:00Dolar Blue and Dakar Motos<div id="post_message_21035098">
Day 160 (March 25, 2013)<br />Buenos Aires,
Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 27 Miles<br /><br />I had a couple of things to take care
of this morning. First things first: dolar blue. "Dolar blue" is what the
Argentinians call the black market for American Dollars. Currently, the official
exchange rate is around 5.10 Pesos per dollar. The Dolar Blue rate is somewhere
around 8 to 8.5 Pesos for the dollar. So, if you have some hundred dollar bills,
you stand to make a little money. Of course, because the Argentinian Peso is so
inflationary, no one wants to buy pesos. So, once you've made the change, you
better hope you calculated correctly cause' you aren't going to be changing
those Pesos back to greenbacks.<br /><br />I talked to some people at the hostel and
and asked them where I could find someone to change my money. They told me to go
down to Florida street and just walk around. There would be tons of people just
standing on the street calling out, "Cambio, cambio, cambio!".<br /><br />So I went
to Florida street....<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2025/IMG_0733_zps9bf8648c.jpg" /><br /><br />Sure
enough, as soon as I turned on to the street, I ran into about 10 different
people offering to buy dollars from me. I hunted around for a bit, trying to get
the best rate. People where trying to offer me 8. I just laughed and moved to
the next one. I had seen on the news a few days ago that the Dolar Blue was at
8.45. I mentioned this too a few cambiodores and they told me that I could get
that rate if I wanted to change over a $1,000. So I lowered my expectations a
little and found a few who said that they would give 8.20. I played them off of
each other for a minute and finally one of them buckled and said he would do
8.25. Sold!<br /><br />He told me to follow him and we walked into a nearby hotel
and took the elevator to the first floor. This seemed a little shady, so I
slipped my knife out of my pocket and palmed it up into my sleeve. We stepped
out, walked down the hall a little ways and stopped in front of this hotel room
door. There's this big goomba looking bouncer type standing there in a rumbled
suit with a little radio earpiece tucked into his ear. Whoa, now I'm feeling
like I'm about to walk into this hotel room and get shaken down. <br /><br />My
cambio guy opens the door and we walk into a hotel room that has been converted
into a pretty legit looking money exchange place, complete with bullet-proof
glass, wall safes, ticker screens, and shady looking tellers. Actually, the
shady tellers didn't look too legit....I still had the distinct feeling that I
was about to be robbed.<br /><br />In any event, I stepped up to the glass and told
my teller what I had and what I wanted. He stepped back, talked to his cohorts,
came back to the glass and told me that he could only give me 8.20. I told him
that that was BS, the guy who had just walked me in here had told 8.25. He said
sorry, 8.20 was all he could give. I just smiled, said adios, and started to
leave. He then told me okay, he would give me the extra .05.<br /><br />So, I walked
out of there with a fistful of pesos, said chao to the goombah, and hit the
street. I would have taken a picture, but I get the distinct feeling that that
would have been frowned upon.<br /><br />I was walking back along Florida street
when who should I see but the overlander couple whom I had met with Mike in La
Paz and then seen again a few weeks ago in El Calafate.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2025/IMG_0734_zps865f23b5.jpg" /><br /><br />It's
so odd how you can just run into people randomly across an entire continent. We
talked for a bit, I told them about my "Dolar Blue" experience, we exchanged
emails, and then parted ways.<br /><br />I walked back to the hostel, ate a little
lunch then started getting ready to over to Dakar Motos to talk to them about
shipping back to the States and possibly find a used tire and a
welder.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2025/IMG_0735_zps6bdd3cb9.jpg" /><br /><br />After
a little bit of confusion navigating through Buenos Aires, I finally found the
shop. Sandra and Javier, the owners, were extremely helpful and explained the
whole air shipping process to me and detailed the costs. I decided to pull the
trigger and use them for shipping as they seemed to have the cheapest rates and
most clear cut outline of what I needed to do. I still can't get over the fact
that airfreight from Buenos Aires to Portland, OR is cheaper than ocean freight
from Vallaparaiso to Portland, OR. <br /><br />I then asked Javier if he had any
used tires that he wanted to sell. He dug through his stock and pulled out a
half used Metzler for me. It was a little smaller than the one that I currently
had on but I figured it would work just fine. Plus, he sold it to me for 200
Pesos so I couldn't really argue about the price. Plus, he let me use his shop
to do the tire change.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2025/IMG_0736_zps471528f0.jpg" /><br /><br />While
I was working on the tire, I asked him if he knew of any welders. I showed him
where my luggage rack was cracking and he said that he could take care of that
himself. Before I could even get the tire back on he had re-welded my rack. What
an awesome guy!<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2025/IMG_0737_zpse5755503.jpg" /><br /><br />After
I finished putting the tire back on, we sat around and talked for a while.
Sandra even gave me some coffee. Javier and Sandra are awesome! I finally said
my goodbyes and headed back to the Hostel. <br /><br />So now I've got a shipping
date (April 4) and a loose idea of what I'm going to do. I plan on staying one
more day in BA, then heading up to Uruguay for a week or so to hang out on the
beach, work on my tan, and take a vacation from my vacation. Then, I'm going to
head back to BA on the 3rd, take the bike to the airport on the 4th, and
hopefully fly back to the states by 8th or the 9th. It's so crazy actually
having a fairly solid timeline now! I don't know if I like this.<img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eekers.gif" title="Eek" /> </div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-57977161589736632622013-04-06T16:08:00.001-07:002013-04-06T16:24:27.204-07:00Nebraska, Argentina<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 159 (March 24, 2013)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coronel Pringles, Argentina to Buenos Aires,
Argentina</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day's Ride: 320 Miles</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=Av+Rivadavia&hl=en&geocode=FfQ9vP0dEbhX_A%3BFUXq7_0d9iOF_A&sll=-34.608544,-58.383794&sspn=0.001731,0.003449&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=18&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-36.191092,-59.27124&spn=4.255484,7.03125&z=7&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br />
<small><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=Av+Rivadavia&hl=en&geocode=FfQ9vP0dEbhX_A%3BFUXq7_0d9iOF_A&sll=-34.608544,-58.383794&sspn=0.001731,0.003449&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=18&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-36.191092,-59.27124&spn=4.255484,7.03125&z=7" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">View Larger Map</span></a></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><small>After some debate on what I should do concerning the crack in my luggage
rack, </small><small>I decided to reinforce in order to make
sure it didn't crack off while I was riding and become more difficult to
fix:</small></span></span><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2024/DSC00660_zps64dec3a6.jpg" /></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Which leads me to one of my deep thoughts concerning adventure motorcycle
travel: </span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Q: What are
the most important spare parts to bring on a 20,000 mile motorcycle trip through
Central and South America?<br /><br />A: Bailing wire, zip ties, and duct
tape.</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I actually found
the bailing wire pictured above laying on the ground in front of the shop in
Bolivia where I had my rack re-welded the last time. I'm glad I saved
it.</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The road north
continued through acres and acres of agricultural land. It felt like I was back
in Eastern Oregon where I grew
up.</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2024/DSC00661_zps1f126ee2.jpg" /></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Actually, after a while, it felt like I was in Nebraska or some other
Midwestern agricultural state. Maybe Iowa. It was crazy. Just tons and tons of
farms and ranches. Now I see why Argentina is known for it's
beef.</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The ride was
fairly boring again. Just long straight roads with tons of farming and not much
to see. With only about 20 pesos ($5) left in my pocket, I was forced to
continue using gas station internet to call my bank and authorize my card to
make transactions for gas and food. Thank god this didn't happen somewhere like
Bolivia. I would have been dead in the
water.</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I'm still
somewhat of a celebrity whenever I stop. People see the big bike with the
strange license plate, the list of countries on the wind screen, and the gypsy
wagon load of things hanging off of it and immediately want to know what you are
doing and where you are from. As soon as you tell them that you are from the
states and that you rode all the way down, their eyes go big and they say things
like: "Increible!" or "No!" or "En serio?!". <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eekers.gif" title="Eek" /></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I snapped a picture of some Argentinas posing in front of my bike. A
picture of a picture. I don't think that they knew that the owner of the bike
was sitting just inside the gas
station</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2024/IMG_0730_zps437e0791.jpg" /></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">As I neared the outskirts of Buenos Aires, I began to see tons of cars
pulled off on the side of the freeway. After a while, I began to realize that
there were tons of Argentinos just hanging out on the grass next to the road,
having picnics and BBQs. The closer that I got to the city, the more people that
I began to see. A lot of them had brought small quads and dirtbikes and the kids
were riding around like hooligans right next to the freeway. I guess it's quite
common here on Sunday night to go hang out on the grass next to the autopista
and have a party. </span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2024/DSC00663_zpsdd0d0045.jpg" /></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">After literally spending my last few pesos at toll booths, I finally made
it to downtown BA and rode straight into absolute
chaos.</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">For some reason,
tons of kids and young adults where blocking the streets, banging drums, waving
flags, starting fires, throwing trash, and protesting. There were also tons of
busses parked all over the place, blocking traffic and generally adding to the
mayhem. WTF? <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eekers.gif" title="Eek" /></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I had no idea what the protest was about, but the cops didn't seem too
perturbed, almost like it was something that happened every day. I'm all about
the right to free assembly, but damn, it's hard enough navigating a large Latin
American city at night on a motorcycle. Add a bunch of angry protesters to the
mix and it becomes nearly impossible. It took my about 45 minutes to move a
mile. I had to stop a few times and shut my bike off to keep it from
overheating. </span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I
eventually found a hostel that bubbletron had told me about, unloaded all of my
gear, and took my bike to a parking garage down the street. After making sure it
was parked in the light, locking the handlebars, putting on the disc alarm, and
chaining it to a steel railing, I figured that it was secure enough for the
night and went back to the hostel to
crash.</span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></small><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2024/IMG_0732_zps4fd4d89c.jpg" /></small>
</span></span>Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-2817030976473829682013-04-04T14:22:00.000-07:002013-04-04T14:33:38.325-07:00Las Grutas to Coronel Pringles<div id="post_message_21027911">
Day 158 (March 23, 2013)<br />
Las Grutas, Argentina
to Coronel Pringles, Argentina<br />
Day's Ride: 352 Miles<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=-38.7147942,-62.2602882+to:Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FfBZkf0dxPMe_A%3BFVZCsf0dwPtJ_ClnFmaNUqPtl TEkSc9V-PdC3A%3BFYBEvP0d8q9X_A&sll=-38.702123,-62.257805&sspn=0.105029,0.220757&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=12&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-39.215231,-63.1604&spn=4.085446,7.03125&z=7&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br />
<small><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=-38.7147942,-62.2602882+to:Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FfBZkf0dxPMe_A%3BFVZCsf0dwPtJ_ClnFmaNUqPtlTEkSc9V-PdC3A%3BFYBEvP0d8q9X_A&sll=-38.702123,-62.257805&sspn=0.105029,0.220757&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=12&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-39.215231,-63.1604&spn=4.085446,7.03125&z=7" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">View Larger Map</span></a></small><br />
<small><span style="font-size: large;"></span></small><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><small>After packing up and getting everything loaded, I tried to find the
caretaker for the campground that I had crashed at in order to pay him. I spent
about 15 minutes wandering around the grounds looking for him, but was
ultimately unsuccessful. Eventually, I ended up just having to leave without
paying. Looks like another night of free
camping!</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>The road was
more of nothing:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2023/DSC00648_zps3d571cbc.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>There was really nothing to see. The roads were incredibly long,
straight, and flat. I ended up breaking the day up into 100 mile chunks and
stopping at gas stations to rest and refuel.
</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2023/DSC00649_zps940c7df2.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>With my debit card number having been stolen the day before, I was now
forced to call the bank everytime that I wanted to use the card. Luckily, nearly
every gas station has wifi and I was able to use some skype credit to make cheap
international calls.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I
passed throughout the town of Bahia Blanca. After having been in Patagonia for
so long, It was a little strange passing through a city with multi story
buildings.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2023/DSC00650_zps679af41a.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>It was also a little strange to see a Wal-Mart alongside the
road:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2023/DSC00652_zps53f9084f.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Leaving Bahia Blanca I soon began to enter into a more agrarian setting.
Lots of cattle pastures and crops. There was even a John Deere dealer. I felt
like I was back home!</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2023/DSC00654_zpsc408be2e.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I made it to the small farming town of Coronel Pringles and pulled over
to see if I could find a place to camp. Luckily, it seems that nearly every town
in Argentina has a municipal campground where you can camp for free or at least
a very modest price. A local cop soon directed me to the town park where they
had a small spot for tents. </small><br /><small></small><br /><small>As I pulled up, a few Argentinos walked up to me and began asking me
questions about me trip. They were really amazed that I had decided to visit
their small town and wanted to know why I had stopped there. I just told them
the truth: it was about a day's ride from where I had started in Las
Grutas.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I eventually
set up camp, went for a little run, and then started cooking. While I was
cooking, I investigated one of the cracks that I had seen forming on my luggage
rack. It appeared that the crack had widened and had also broken through one of
the gussets that I had had welded onto the
outside.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2023/DSC00658_zps3905c31a.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Luckily, there was a second gusset on the inside of the rack that was
keeping it from breaking off completely. I debated with myself on whether I
should try and ride it all the way into BA in the morning as it was, or try and
reinforce it. After a few glasses of wine, I decided I would figure it out in
the morning.</small></span></span><!-- / message --><!-- sig --></div>
Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-2780829612048481132013-04-03T18:15:00.000-07:002013-04-03T18:30:07.987-07:00Hay Pinguinos!<div id="post_message_21012140">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Day 157 (March 22, 2013)<br />Puerto Piramides,
Argentina to Las Grutas, Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 300 Miles</span><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=-42.4462453,-63.6253954+to:RP+2&hl=en&geocode=Fatndv0dvjor_A%3BFVtSeP0dTSc1_Clh_uynIS8dv jFQWS-E5x1WRQ%3BFQJskf0dCvMe_A&sll=-42.40115,-64.190369&sspn=0.79505,1.766052&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=9&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-41.664705,-64.588623&spn=3.939348,7.03125&z=7&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br />
<small><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Unknown+road&daddr=-42.4462453,-63.6253954+to:RP+2&hl=en&geocode=Fatndv0dvjor_A%3BFVtSeP0dTSc1_Clh_uynIS8dvjFQWS-E5x1WRQ%3BFQJskf0dCvMe_A&sll=-42.40115,-64.190369&sspn=0.79505,1.766052&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=9&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-41.664705,-64.588623&spn=3.939348,7.03125&z=7" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">View Larger Map</span></a></small><br />
<small></small><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><small>As I was leaving the campground this morning, I stopped by the office to
pay. The guy on duty just looked at me, smiled, and told me not to worry about
it. Awesome!</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I went by
the gas station, fueled up, and then got on the ripio and started riding for the
end of the peninsula. The road was incredibly nice, well graded, gravel. I even
had a nice tailwind on the way out which made things nice and quiet, and I was
able to listen to some NPR podcasts in my
headphones.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00641_zpse8a95f25.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>After about 45 miles of ripio, I reached the end of the peninsula and saw
this:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00629_zps550d8129.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I love the way you say penguin in Spanish: peen-guee-no If you say it
with a mexican accent, it just sounds
hilarious.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I parked the
bike, took two steps, and spotted this little guy peeking his head over the
birm:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00620_zpscc6f8483.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I just about called it a day right there. List of things to do on SA
trip: 23.) See penguins.
Check.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I walked up to
edge of the overlook and found a whole colony of the little guys hanging out
catching some rays.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00621_zps33de5111.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>In reality, there weren't that many, but I hear it's late in the season.
Plus, this is one of the small nesting grounds. Puerto Tumbo is supposed to be
the real big one down here, but it was too far south for me. A couple of these
guys were close enough for me to touch, but I played by the rules and left the
"pinguinos" alone.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00623_zps1d4f2e01.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00622_zps7282ed43.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00626_zps1b3084c0.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>There's a part of me that wonders what penguins taste like......it would
have been so easy to scoop one of these little guys up and stick him on a
parilla. <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/icon10.gif" title="Grin" /> Oh well, next time.
</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>After seeing the
penguins, I went down the coast a little farther to see if I could find any
elephant seals. Unfortunately, I think most of them have left for the season. I
did see a few females, but they were really far
away.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00632_zpsc5e9cd50.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>As I was walking back to my bike, I ran across a few rheas. At least I
think that's what they are. I've been seeing these things since Bolivia and at
first I thought that someone had turned some emus
loose.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00636_zps9a6dcfd8.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>In any event, whatever these large flightless birds were, they were
pretty tame and I was able to get close enough for some good
pictures.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>With "Mision
Pinguino" complete, I hit the road and made it back to Puerto Piramides to top
off my fuel one last time before heading back to the main highway. My luggage
rack didn't even break. I think that that may have been the last ripio for the
trip. Yeah!</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>The road
north was flat, straight, and uneventful. Luckily, the weather has warmed up
considerably since I came north and I was able to enjoy the ride without
shivering to death.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00642_zps16a370cf.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2022/DSC00645_zps24d97041.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Right before I hit the 300 mile mark, I came to a small town on the coast
called Las Grutas. I decided that this would be a good place to stop and rolled
into town. Apparently this is a big beach vacation spot in the summer. However,
with the summer season over, the place is a ghost town. I stopped at three
different campgrounds before I finally found one that was open.
</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>The campground that
I'm staying at is some sort of retreat for Police officers. However, for 30
Pesos, the public can also camp here. It's pretty nice; they have hot showers,
wifi, and electrical outlets at all of the camp sites. Plus I'm the only person
here. The caretaker even invited me over to his house for some asado. I provided
the beer and we had a little family style dinner while we watched the
Argentinian versions of "The Biggest Loser", Lifetime, and MTV. All very
entertaining.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>After
dinner I checked my email and found out that my identity had been stolen and
that someone in Kansas City, MO had decided to spend about $300 of my money at
Target and Chic-Fil-A. </small><br /><small></small><br /><small>So now my debit card is on lockdown. I've only got about 100 pesos left.
Uh oh. Now I've got some problems.....</small> </span></span></div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig --><br />Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-74621697934854943732013-04-03T18:12:00.003-07:002013-04-03T18:12:54.894-07:00Where are the Pinguinos?<div id="post_message_21002895">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Day 156 (March 21, 2013)<br />Dolavon, Argentina to
Puerto Piramides, Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 110 Miles</span><br /></span><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.google.com.ar/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=RN+25&daddr=Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FeVPa_0d7DoV_A%3BFT1jdv0dKjor_A&sll=-42.569138,-64.279461&sspn=0.024779,0.055189&mra=me&mrsp=1&sz=14&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-42.875964,-65.019836&spn=0.96613,1.757813&z=9&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://www.google.com.ar/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=RN+25&daddr=Unknown+road&hl=en&geocode=FeVPa_0d7DoV_A%3BFT1jdv0dKjor_A&sll=-42.569138,-64.279461&sspn=0.024779,0.055189&mra=me&mrsp=1&sz=14&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-42.875964,-65.019836&spn=0.96613,1.757813&z=9" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">View Larger Map</span></a></small><br /><small></small><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">Woke up rather late this morning and took my time packing up. I had a few
things to take care of in Trelew before heading out to Peninsula Valdes to try
and find me some Pinguinos.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I made it to Trelew in about 20 minutes and commenced my hunt for oil. I
stopped at a couple of larger "Lubricentros" looking for some Rimula R4;
unfortunately, I could only find it in the 5 liter jugs and they wanted about
$60 for those jugs so I said "no thanks" kept on hunting. So much for Rimula
being cheaper than true moto oil. I did find some Shell Helix 10W-40 that was
JASO rated; unfortunately, the store I was in only had one
liter.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">Eventually I
buckled down and went to one of the motoshops in town. They sold me three liters
of Castrol semi-synthetic for about $40 in American dollars. I got a deal by
paying with greenbacks; if I had paid in pesos it would have cost around $55.
It's still not cheap, but at this point I was paying for convenience as they
agreed to let me use there shop to do my oil
change.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I wheeled the
bike in and got down to business. I had to change the filter this time so it
took a little longer; however, it was still a relatively quick job. The guys in
the shop were cool and we had a good time talking while I worked. They were
fascinated by my bike and my trip and they had tons of questions. When I
finished up, I had them sign my tank and took a few pictures of them with the
bike on their cell phones.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2021/DSC00618_zps8e9b4320.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">After finishing up at the shop, I went to the local bank and pulled out
some more pesos then headed over to the gas station to fill up and check my
emails.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I'm currently
in the process of trying to arrange shipping for my bike back to the states and
I'm beginning to think that it would have been better just to sell the damn
thing in Punta Arenas. The irony that I keep running into is that airfreight
seems to be cheaper or at least the same price as ocean freight. Purpledrake
explained a little bit of the logic behind this to me but I still find it
fascinating. The one huge thing with ocean freight is all of the little hidden
fees; things like port taxes, brokerage fees, port maintenance fees, etc. I'm
beginning to think that I may just go with air freight out of Burns
Aires.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">After leaving
Trawler around 1:00 PM, I rode north for the Valdez Peninsula. The peninsula is
a huge wildlife reserve complete with elephant seals, whales, and penguins.
Since this is probably my last chance to see some pinguinos, I decided that I
should probably ride the few extra miles to make it happen. I know
Allvincullumyork is counting on some pictures of the pinguinos and I can't let
him down.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I got into
the little town of Puerto Piramides around 4:00 PM and decided that it would be
better to travel the final 140 kilometers of ripio out to the penguins in the
morning. I found the municipal campground and set up my
tent.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2021/DSC00619_zps55d3a954.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is the most expensive municipal campground I've been to in Argentina
and Chile. It cost 60 pesos ($12)! I suppose that it's due to the fact that
camping isn't technically allowed in the reserve and this is the only spot where
you can set up your tent.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tomorrow I'm going to burn out to see the pinguinos and then head back to
the main road and keep making tracks for Buenos Aires. I've noticed a few small
cracks in my luggage rack again. I'm hoping that they survive the ripio
tomorrow. My rear tire is also just about shot. I'm hoping that it makes it the
final 800 miles or so into Buenos. At this point I don't know if I can afford
another rear tire.</span></small> </span></div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-15040990223694849132013-04-01T06:06:00.004-07:002013-04-01T06:06:57.163-07:00Back in the Pampas<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Day 155 (March 20, 2013)<br />Esquel, Argentina to Dolavon, Argentina<br />Day's
Ride: 352 Miles</span><br /></span><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.google.com.ar/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Av+Ameghino&daddr=-43.5045091,-70.8038613+to:RN+25&hl=en&geocode=FZJJcf0d5vG_-w%3BFYMsaP0da57H-ymVQF3mmtz3vTHFeY-n4pyjMw%3BFeVPa_0d7DoV_A&sll=-43.524655,-69.99939&sspn=1.561321,3.532104&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=8&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-42.956423,-68.950195&spn=7.718175,14.0625&z=6&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="http://www.google.com.ar/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Av+Ameghino&daddr=-43.5045091,-70.8038613+to:RN+25&hl=en&geocode=FZJJcf0d5vG_-w%3BFYMsaP0da57H-ymVQF3mmtz3vTHFeY-n4pyjMw%3BFeVPa_0d7DoV_A&sll=-43.524655,-69.99939&sspn=1.561321,3.532104&mra=dpe&mrsp=1&sz=8&via=1&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-42.956423,-68.950195&spn=7.718175,14.0625&z=6" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">View Larger Map</span></a></small><br /><small></small><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><small>I knew when I left Esquel that it was going to be a long and boring ride
back across the pampas to the Atlantic so I decided to just get as much of it
out of the way in one shot as I could. Besides, other than a few small
estancia's along the way, there really wasn't anywhere to stop between Esquel
and the town of Trelew. I had to re-ride about 40 miles of Ruta 40 that I had
already ridden on the way down to get to the turn off for the
coast.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>The scenery was
classic southern Argentina. Flat expanses of scrub brush stretching to the
horizon with the occasional gully or small bluff to add a little disruption to
an otherwise linear view. I did go through one small stretch of sandstone cliffs
that reminded a little of Utah.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2020/DSC00616_zpsf9d6b749.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Other than that, there wasn't much to see. I did have some more pictures
of the nothingness; unfortunately, photobucket is refusing to upload
them.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Since I was
riding from west to east, I had a nice tailwind throughout the day and wasn't
getting blown all over the place. However, after 340 miles I was starting to get
a little tired. When I saw a municipal campground in a small town 20 miles
outside of Trelew, I decided to stop for the
night.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I was the only
one at the campground and the caretaker didn't even make me pay. I went to the
local mercado, got some food and some wine and came back to the campground to
cook. It started to rain a little and the caretaker let me cook under his little
awning. </small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2020/IMG_0729_zps4ea2ae8d.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>I shared my wine with him and we talked for a little while. A little
later he went out and bought a couple liters of beer and came back and shared
with me. We sat around and talked and drank for a few hours and then I headed
back to my tent to catch some sleep. All in all, a simple day. A little riding,
a little cooking, and a little bs'ing with an Argentino over some vino and
cervesa.</small></span></span>Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-40796969581413805072013-04-01T06:05:00.000-07:002013-04-01T06:05:00.088-07:00Final Day on the Carretera Austral<div id="post_message_20988653">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Day 154 (March 19, 2013)<br />Coyhaique, Chile to
Esquel, Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 311 Miles<br /><br />For some reason Google maps
doesn't show the road that I took to cross the border back into Argentina. It
just ends at the border on the Chile side and doesn't connect to the Esquel
road. Just imagine a little blue line continuing on past the border to
Esquel....</span><br /></span><iframe frameborder="0" height="480" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Crist%C3%B3bal+Col%C3%B3n&daddr=Ruta+231+Ch&hl=en&geocode=FZuLSP0dQl60-w%3BFRQ1bf0d0yK5-w&sll=-43.180396,-71.746902&sspn=0.098138,0.220757&mra=dme&mrsp=1&sz=12&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-44.174325,-72.25708&spn=3.782191,7.03125&z=7&output=embed" width="640"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://www.google.com/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Crist%C3%B3bal+Col%C3%B3n&daddr=Ruta+231+Ch&hl=en&geocode=FZuLSP0dQl60-w%3BFRQ1bf0d0yK5-w&sll=-43.180396,-71.746902&sspn=0.098138,0.220757&mra=dme&mrsp=1&sz=12&ie=UTF8&t=p&ll=-44.174325,-72.25708&spn=3.782191,7.03125&z=7" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">View Larger Map</span></a></small><br /><small></small><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dylan and I left Coyhaique around nine this morning and road to a
junction a few miles up the road where we said our goodbyes. Dylan is going to
spend some more time in Chilean Patagonia seeing the sights; I have to start
making my way north a little faster so I can get home before my money runs
out.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/DSC00591_zps9d840b4d.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dylan, if you are reading this, it was great riding and hiking with you!
Maybe I'll see you up north in a few
weeks!</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">After splitting
up with Dylan, I continued up the Carretera. This is far and away one of the
most beautiful rides that I have done on this trip. This portion of Patagonia is
incredible. The scenery just blows you away. At every turn it seems that you are
riding down plunging valleys, overshadowed by hanging glaciers and stately
pines, and bordered by crystal blue rivers and snowy white cataracts.
</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/DSC00593_zps5a5d4709.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I'll be honest, the riding was so good today that I didn't stop and take
a lot of pictures; I was just having to much of a good time. I'm sure I'll
regret that later.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/DSC00597_zps9c482894.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/DSC00600_zpse261fe4f.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/DSC00603_zpsd549603f.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">After about 100 miles, the pavement ended and it was back to the ripio.
The scenery continued to be amazing; unfortunately, I had to devote a lot more
attention to the road.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/DSC00604_zpsf195196d.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">The ripio soon turned pretty nasty. Combined with a really bad washboard,
the gravel was throwing me all over the road. I spent the rest of the day
fighting a nasty tendency to fishtail and pogo when riding at
speed.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">After several
hours of hard riding, I stopped for gas in a small puebla. I took a few seconds
to do one of my regular visual checks to make sure nothing was broken or missing
and realized that one of the pop rivets holding the top plate of my home made
chain slider was missing. The chain probably ripped it off sometime before I
tightened it up earlier in the
day.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/IMG_0725_zpsf9874d28.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">There was still one rivet holding it in place, but I wasn't comfortable
with just that one little pop rivet keeping that thick piece of nylon from
feeding itself into my counter sprocket. I asked the guy who ran the gas station
if there was a mechanico in town. He said that there wasn't. He then asked me
what i needed to have fixed. I showed him one of the extra pop rivets that I had
and he told me that he had a pop rivet gun in his shop! He walked home and got
it and brought it back to service station for me. I took the end of my round
file and punched out the bottom end of the old rivet, then used the pop rivet
gun to install a new one. It seems that I always have the best luck finding help
when something goes wrong with my bike.
</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">Back on the road I
started running into construction. It seemed that I would pass through one
flagger, go 500 meters and get stopped by another flagger. It stayed like this
for nearly 30 miles!</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/DSC00606_zps941c3f24.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small></small></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I finally made it past the construction and turned off the Carretera
Austral and started heading east towards the
border.</span></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/IMG_0723_zpsf0f11edc.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I made another painless crossing between Chile and Argentina and then
continued on down the ripio towards the town of Esquel. On the way, I passed
through the town of Trevelin. Trevelin, along with another town out by the
Atlantic called Trewlew, are old welsh
colonies.</span></small><br /><small></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2019/IMG_0728_zps38876d00.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><span style="font-size: x-small;">I finally made it into Esquel around 8:00 PM and was really tired. I had
ridden 110 miles of good pavement and 200 miles of really rough ripio as well
sneaking in a little border crossing. I decided to spring for another hostel
instead of camping so that I could get a good nights sleep before trying to push
for the Atlantic tomorrow. I forsee some Pinguinos in my near
future...</span></small> </span></div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-64827952973701015862013-04-01T06:02:00.001-07:002013-04-01T06:02:22.678-07:00CoyhaiqueDay 153 (March 18, 2013)<br />Coyhaique, Chile<br />Day's Ride: 0 Miles<br /><br />Took
a rest day today in order to do some errands. Went to a "Casa de Cambio" to buy
some American dolars in preperation for returning to Argentina, purchased a
cutting board to cut food and serve as a replacement for my improvised chain
slider should it fail, and bought another sleeping pad to help me stay warm and
comfortable in the Patagonian nights.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2018/IMG_0719_zps49254059.jpg" /><br /><br />This
evening I went to the local Unimark supermarket and bought a ton of food and
cooked up a big meal.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2018/IMG_0721_zpsb17d7076.jpg" /><br /><br />Tomorrow
I'm going to finish the Carretera Austral and jump back into Argentina.
Hopefully I'll be up to Buenos Aires in a few days and then on to Uruguay to
spend some time on the beach. I'm tired of being cold. Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-84720268781463825212013-03-30T08:41:00.002-07:002013-03-30T08:41:45.488-07:00Carretera Austral Day 2<div id="post_message_20974092">
Day 152 (March 17, 2013)<br />Cerro Castillo, Chile
to Coyhaique, Chile<br />Day's Ride: 71
Miles<br /><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><small>Dylan just showed me how to
do an interactive version of the maps that I do most everyday to map the day's
route, so we'll give this a try. Right off the bat, I'm not sure how much I like
it. If you think the old way was better, let me know and I'll put those back
in.</small><br /></span><iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://maps.google.cl/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Ruta+7&daddr=Francisco+Bilbao&geocode=FShLQP0dQgSz-w%3BFcqfSP0duUm0-w&sll=-45.570073,-72.068253&sspn=0.047106,0.110378&hl=en&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=13&ie=UTF8&ll=-45.570073,-72.068253&spn=0.047106,0.110378&t=m&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br /><small><a href="https://maps.google.cl/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Ruta+7&daddr=Francisco+Bilbao&geocode=FShLQP0dQgSz-w%3BFcqfSP0duUm0-w&sll=-45.570073,-72.068253&sspn=0.047106,0.110378&hl=en&mra=me&mrsp=1,0&sz=13&ie=UTF8&ll=-45.570073,-72.068253&spn=0.047106,0.110378&t=m" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">View Larger
Map</span></a></small><br /><small></small><br /><small></small><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><small>I
awoke to the sounds of fishing and emerged from my tent to find that one of the
overlanders had caught another trout. This one measured about 17 inches and was
caught with some crappy second hand lures on a normal fishing rod. Jeff, if you
are reading this, here's your
fish:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2017/DSC00580_zps56241f7c.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We said our goodbyes and hit the road. The peak Cerro Castillo and some
other smaller spires soon came into
view:</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2017/DSC00582_zps39da3964.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2017/DSC00585_zpsf0881eda.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2017/DSC00583_zps5c5542d4.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>Just past the puebla of Cerro Castillo the road went back to pavement.
The road was incredible and the views were
fantastic.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2017/DSC00588_zps24494b6b.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2017/IMGP6718_zpsa3b7f07b.jpg" /></small><br /><small></small><br /><small>So far I think that the Carretera Austral is one of the best roads that
I've been on during this trip. The combination of ripio, pavement, and
incredible scenery have combined to make this an incredible
ride.</small><br /><small></small><br /><small>We took a short
day and stopped in the town of Coyhaique, population 50,000. This is the largest
town we are going to hit for a while so we decided that it would be a good idea
to get some supplies and some American dollars before crossing back into
Argentina.</small> </span></div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-52954687594808215792013-03-28T18:55:00.001-07:002013-03-28T18:55:46.086-07:00The Carretera Austral<div id="post_message_20973761">
Day 151 (March 16, 2013)<br />Chile Chico, Chile to
Cerro Torre, Chile<br />Day's Ride: 189 Miles<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/Mar16_zpsf8bcc1f8.jpg" /><br /><br />Leaving
our awesome campground at Chile Chico was a little hard; however, we were
excited to start the Carretera Austral. From Chile Chico to the actual
Carreterra Austral there is a 70 mile long ripio approach that skirts the
southern edge of Lake General Carrera. The views were incredible and the road
quality actually fairly decent.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00538_zps25f5f6ed.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00542_zps50a00234.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00545_zps905d3a70.jpg" /><br /><br />You
can see the road running up the left side of the hill in the picture
below:<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00547_zps0bae178f.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00549_zpsa5cc8afc.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00556_zpsbf84a881.jpg" /><br /><br />After
about 70 miles of riding, we finally linked up with the actual Carretera
Austral. We stopped at the intersection for a quick lunch break. Lunch consisted
of two cans of tuna mixed in with a block of cream cheese, chopped onions, sun
dried tomatoes, a little olive oil, all smeared on hot dog buns.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00557_zps4553ced7.jpg" /><br /><br />As
we were passing through the puebla of Rio Tranquilo (home of the Marble Chaple
that yuri told me about but that I forgot) I noticed some bikers. We stopped to
chat for a minute. One of the riders who was on one of those crazy DR800's had
been hit by a car the day before. The people drive like crazy on these ripio
roads and he had taken a head on collision with a car and miraculously survived
unscathed. His bike on the other hand was a little beat up. There was also a
pretty cool little XR400 in their group:<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00565_zps521c93cc.jpg" /><br /><br />The
road soon denigrated into some real rough wash board with the large suicide
gravel. The views continued to be spectacular.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00572_zpsffd9b00e.jpg" /><br /><br />We
passed by tons of lakes and rivers that were fed from glacial runoff. The
glacial sediments suspended in the water reflect a certain wavelength of light
and give the water an incredible aquamarine color that's difficult to capture on
camera.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/IMG_0715_zps77ae4a7f.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/IMG_0716_zpsbe6cfcdc.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/IMG_0717_zpsd72ce2b3.jpg" /><br /><br />As
we were nearing our stopping point at the end of the day, we came across a
convoy of overland vehicles. Dylan recognized one of the trucks and realized
that they were some of the overlanders that we had met in Lima a couple of
months ago! We all pulled over and got out to say hi. There were four vehicles
and four couples; Jed and Megan, (the American couple that had been attacked by
the village in Peru), James and Lauren, and then two other couples whose names
that I don't remember. We talked for a little bit and then they invited us to
camp out with them next to a river that we had passed a few miles ago. We made a
quick run into the nearby village to buy food then returned back to the campsite
to hang out.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2016/DSC00575_zps2494e6d6.jpg" /><br /><br />We
ended up building a bonfire, drinking a bunch of wine, and eating trout ceviche
from a fish that one of the overlanders had just caught out of the river. It was
awesome! </div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-85596206089680770272013-03-28T18:53:00.000-07:002013-03-28T18:53:59.919-07:00Chile Chico<div id="post_message_20957824">
Day 150 (March 15, 2013)<br />Chile Chico,
Chile<br />Day's Ride: 0 Miles<br /><br />Happy Ides of March to
everyone!<br /><br />Spent the day chilling in Chile Chico. The climate here is
amazing; this is the first day that I've spent in shorts and a t-shirt in a
while and it was a welcome change. I've heard that the Carreterra Austral can be
a little wet, so it was nice to soak up the sun while I could.<br /><br />I took the
opportunity today to check my valves, clean my air filter, and give the bike a
thorough once over to make sure nothing was breaking. My improvised chain slider
seems to be holding up okay. The chain has worn through about 1/3 of the
thickness of the nylon, but it seems to be holding steady there.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2015/IMG_0706_zpsf5cdfa90.jpg" /><br /><br />The
valve check was going pretty well at first; everything seemed a bit loose, so I
started tightening everything up. I finished, then went back to double check all
of the adjustments and found that I couldn't get the feeler gage in the right
exhaust valve any longer. I loosened it up almost to the limit and still could
barely fit the correct gage in! I had a minor heart attack, then realized that I
had been wiggling the crankshaft a little after I had finished the initial
adjustments. I went back, rotated the crank shaft a few times, put it back at
TDC, and was able to adjust the valve properly again. Phew!<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2015/IMG_0707_zps300c341a.jpg" /><br /><br />I
do have one question though for all of the XRL riders though: the manual says to
tighten the valve until there is "slight drag" on the feeler gage. I've been
tightening the valve down all the way until the feeler gage is stuck, then
gradually back off until it slides back and forth with a little bit of catch to
it. Is that what I should be looking for or do I have it too tight? It seems
like it's a hard thing to measure as there is always a "slight drag" on the
feeler gage when you insert it unless the valve is extremely loose.<br /><br />Spent
the rest of the day sending emails, trying to coordinate shipping for my bike,
and walking around Chile Chico. Dylan tells me that we are right next to the
second largest lake in South America, right behind Lago Titicaca.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2015/IMG_0709_zpsbe0a09f7.jpg" /><br /><br />This
evening a stray dog ripped a hole in Dylan's tent and ate some of his food. A
few minutes later a few cats jumped up on the picnic table where we've been
cooking and knocked over some of our pots and stole some hotdogs. Dylan got
pissed and started chasing the cats around trying to stomp them into the ground.
I just watched and laughed and wondered why girls always get angry at me for
being mean to animals. They should really be angry with Dylan. <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/icon10.gif" title="Grin" /> Tomorrow we begin the
Carretera Austral. Things are starting to draw to a close for me. I figure I
still have a few weeks left but all of this talk about shipping has me feeling
like I'm getting ready to head back tomorrow! </div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-57546244829316609032013-03-26T13:25:00.004-07:002013-03-26T13:25:56.461-07:00Ruta 40 is Dying<div id="post_message_20953590">
Day 149 (March 14, 2013)<br />Gobenador Gregores,
Argentina to Chile Chico, Chile<br />Day's Ride: 265 Miles<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2014/Mar14_zps6a86cd96.jpg" /><br /><br />Leaving
"GG" (aka Gobenador Gregores) at around noon, Dylan and I sped north, hoping to
make it to Chile Chico that evening and be poised to begin the Careterra Austral
in the following days.<br /><br />From what Dylan and others had told me, the
remaining majority of Ruta 40 was paved. There were only a few short sections
left that were still blessed with loose covering of ripio.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2014/DSC00518_zps003943e4.jpg" /><br /><br />In
reality, it wasn't long before we found them.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2014/DSC00520_zps86cb94ec.jpg" /><br /><br />Just
to give you an idea of what ripio roads can be like, take a look at the size of
these rocks:<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2014/DSC00527_zps25fff13d.jpg" /><br /><br />If
you can't tell from the picture, a lot of these things are about the size of a
baseball. It's really fun to hit a patch of this stuff at 60 MPH and have your
front end bouncing around like a pogo stick while you clutch desperately to the
handlebars and hope that you don't take a digger. Combine that with some really
bad wasboards and gale force cross winds and you have for a really interesting
ride. Hearing stories about what it was like a few years ago before they started
paving it all makes me wonder just how many times my luggage rack would have
broken while trying to ride this road. I'm actually surprised that it hasn't
broken again already.<br /><br />The road alternated between long stretches of
pavement and short stretches of ripio all day.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2014/DSC00514_zps281cbace.jpg" /><br /><br />We
passed multiple road crews operating graders and tractors and paving equipment.
It's kind of sad really. Ruta 40 seems like it has been this iconic right of
passage for Trans America trips. With all of it getting paved, where are we
going to get stories of people being blown into patches of ripio by the winds
and being ripped off their bikes? On second thought, maybe it is a good thing
that it's being paved.<br /><br />While stopping for lunch we met some Argentinians
on Honda 250's that were doing the entire stretch of Ruta 40 from South to
North. They called their bikes "pizza bikes" as they were the same model that
pizza shops in big cities use to deliver pizza on. They had a good 20 minute
lead on us when we left, but we caught them up in no time. I got way out in
front of them and pulled over to take a picture; Dylan decided that this would
be a good time to thread the needle at 60 MPH and nearly clipped my
elbow.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2014/DSC00524_zps28c2e5d6.jpg" /><br /><br />Eventually
we reached the end of the ripio and cruised into the town of Perrito Moreno.
After a brief stop to fill up on cheap Argentinian gas, we crossed the border
into Chile Chico and found an awesome campground with wifi for 3,000 Pesos
($6).<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2014/IMG_0701_zpseb64a075.jpg" /><br /><br />I
love Chile. Everything just seems so much easier here. We made a quick dash up
to the nearest mercado and I bought a ton of food and cooked up a big pot of
Carbonara. This trip is turning me into a total foodie. I look forward to dinner
every day with an undisguised relish. I think Dylan is getting tired of hearing
me talk about food. </div>
<!-- / message --><!-- sig -->Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430849470850928582.post-8820336202451663712013-03-26T13:24:00.000-07:002013-03-26T13:24:19.025-07:00Where in the hell is Gobenador Gregores and why am I spending my birthday there?Day 148 (March 13, 2013)<br />El Chalten, Argentina to Gobenador Gregores,
Argentina<br />Day's Ride: 185 Miles<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/Mar13_zps454ef45a.jpg" /><br /><br />After
another frosty night in El Chalten, we packed up our gear, said our goodbyes to
our hiking friends, and set off for Gobenador Gregores, a small town in the
middle of nowhere off of Ruta 40 where Dylan had been stranded for three days
due to a gas shortage during his ride south. We crossed our fingers hoping that
they would have gas this time as the next fuel stop was beyond our maximum
range.<br /><br />Leaving El Chalten, Fitz Roy loomed majestically in the background
as a strong tailwind propelled us to the east and the turn off for Ruta
40.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/IMGP6636_zpsf4324e35.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00494_zpsc7dc7aff.jpg" /><br /><br />After
reaching Ruta 40 and the small pueblo of Tres Lagos, we stopped at the last
gasolinera to top off our tanks. Immediately outside of the service station, the
road devolved back into it's natural primal state: ripio!<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00506_zps4b6f175b.jpg" /><br /><br />This
section between Tres Lagos and Gobendador Gregores had been rumored to be one of
the worst stretches. However, it appeared that a grader had been along recently
and we were able to fly! There were also several long stretches that had just
been paved or were about to be paved. Dylan commented that the road had improved
markedly since he had been here a few weeks ago.<br /><br />Below you can see one of
the freshly paved sections running parallel to the old road on the
right:<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00496_zps9710d0f4.jpg" /><br /><br />The
XR650L felt like it was back at home in the gravel and the dirt and I found
myself flying along faster than I normally would ride on the pavement with
Metallica cranked in my headphones. Dylan tooled along at a slightly more sedate
pace for the most part; however, on the final stretch into town, he cranked it
up and rode alongside of me.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00505_zps7fa36461.jpg" /><br /><br />Just
outside of town, Dylan stopped and emptied his reserve into his tank in the hope
that there would be fuel.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00507_zps7659e46b.jpg" /><br /><br />And
then we hauled ass down the remaining stretch of ripio. It was actually pretty
nice and Dylan made a little movie with his GoPro:<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NKjex2W9AWQ" width="420"></iframe><br /><br />We arrived in town and found a fairly long line
for gas at the service station. We pulled in behind another motociclista riding
a Harley with Italian plates.<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00508_zps8998d732.jpg" /><br /><br />I
was extremely impressed! When I had first decided on doing this trip, I had
thought about doing it on my Harley but had been talked out of it by several
people. In retrospect, I'm kind of sad that I didn't. Seeing someone like this
guy who has literally ridden his Harley around the world is very inspiring! I
didn't catch his name and I'm sorry I didn't. He was on an older Fat Boy with
the 80 CI EVO motor. So cool!<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00509_zps1f3c9725.jpg" /><br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00510_zps4d479fb2.jpg" /><br /><br />He's
actually put so many miles on this bike that the odometer has rolled
over!<br /><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m222/alvincullumyork/Mar%2013/DSC00511_zpsc7fef895.jpg" /><br /><br />So
impressive! He said he gets a little cold while riding down here and that the
ripio is a real bear, but other than that, he was having a good
time.<br /><br />Since it was my birthday, I convinced Dylan that we should spring
for a hotel. After stashing our gear, I headed to a Parrilla and treated myself
to some Asado. This was overseas birthday number two for me; last year's was in
the Sandbox formerly know as Afghanistan. Argentina is a much better place to
spend your birthday. <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/1drink.gif" title="1drink" />Bryce Bissingerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14731626401901542777noreply@blogger.com0