Because It’s There!
Why? That’s the old question asked of mountain climbers by risk averse earth bound mortals who can’t fathom why anyone would risk life and limb to climb a mountain. The well known and sometimes quoted response… “Because it’s there!” attributed to British mountain climber George Herbert Leigh Mallory seems to be a somewhat enigmatic response. Was he really saying that the only reason that he attempted to climb Everest was because it was in front of him? Hmmm…..
One of my acquaintances recently asked a similar question having seen parts of the Dakar Rally, arguably one of the most challenging, exhausting and perhaps most dangerous sanctioned racing competitions on the planet, especially on a motorcycle. Why would someone, particularly a privateer with no corporate sponsorship and no real financial motivation, enter such a competition?
A clearly dangerous activity, racing the Dakar on a motorcycle is one hugely intrepid undertaking. Towering mountains, vast deserts, blistering heat, high speeds on rough terrain and long days in the saddle are merely part of the challenge that is Dakar. Numerous competitors have lost their lives over the years and not just from solo falls, but from collisions with other competitors, getting lost, days long sand storms, dehydration, and some would even say, sheer exhaustion. Some days you ride over one hundred miles just to get to the start of the day’s race. Stages (timed sections of the race) can be so long that by the time many competitors make it to the bivouac at the end of the day, they barely have enough time to eat some food, service the bike and take care of bodily functions before the start of the next day’s stage. Sleep is a commodity that is often in very short supply making this grueling, physical two week feat all the more difficult.
So once again, people may ask, why do they do it?
I’ve never been a Dakar competitor so I can’t say with any degree of certainty why the men and women who take on this challenge and pay huge sums of money to do so, risk it all for a competition that many people don’t even know exist. I know that I’ll never ride the Dakar and probably will never have half the skill necessary to undertake such a racing adventure, but being a so-so rider always trying to improve, I think I may have an inkling of what drives a privateer to enter the Dakar.
The Dakar is a gigantic ever changing and shifting monster. High as the mountains, covered in deep sand and jagged rock, it breathes its hot windy breath like fire onto all who would try to take it on. Its call is a mesmerizing one for those who hear it, at first a chant, but increasingly becoming more of a taunt. “You can’t beat me and you know it. You can’t beat me and you know it. You can’t beat me and you know it.”
To those who hear the chant and taunt, the Dakar is an affront to their abilities. Some people come equipped with an excess of drive; drive to excel, succeed, and overcome challenges that many others might find overwhelming. To them, the Dakar monster represents an irrepressible challenge, the triple dog dare of dares. It’s one they just can’t turn away from. The Dakar confronts them and thus the monster must be slayed.
Thus they risk financial hardship and potentially financial ruin, trying to prepare a Dakar ready and worthy effort. Then there’s the physical training necessary to undertake to ensure the requisite fitness to endure such a travail and maximum opportunity to reach the monster. Finally, there’s the task of slaying the monster. If you are able to financially and physically make it to the Dakar, you have reached a major milestone, but you just begun your journey. The monster awaits.
Over two weeks, you will engage and fight the monster. Some days you may feel like you are winning, but most you will feel battered and lucky to be alive. The monster is that tough. It will fight you long and hard, with all of its elemental power raining down on you trying to force you to fail or quit. If you are lucky, you will do battle for the full two weeks with this unrelenting force of nature few can overcome. But, if you have worked hard enough, if you have trained hard enough, if you have tried hard enough and lastly if you are brave enough, the monster can be tamed, temporarily at least.
Your reward will be your own knowledge that you, using your own skills, strength, stamina and bravery have beaten an “unbeatable” beast. The ultimate recognition that using your own abilities and wits, you overcame and conquered an insurmountable challenge. This time. And for those who have heard the chanting and taunting of the beast and emerged victorious, the question will be, “Was one victory enough?” For this beast never truly dies, it just goes back to where it came from and waits for you or others to try to beat it again. For those who failed, the chant and taunt becomes louder and fiercer. Only the truly daunting will attempt another attack on the beast.
So why would anyone with a sense of riding and racing adventure risk it all to ride the Dakar? The answer is simple, “Because it’s there!”
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 14)
Another Patagonian morning dawned cold and overcast. Once again, we dashed for the luxury of the hot water showers. Warmed and cleaned, we were anxious to commence the final leg of our journey to the End of the World at Tierra del Fuego. We ate a quick breakfast and returned to our tents to put on our gear, clean our dusty helmets and get back on the gravel. We would certainly miss Torres del Paine, but the end of the earth was now calling more loudly than ever.
Back on the gravel, we continued to experience towering mountain views and twisty mountain roads. Riding up and over mountain passes and down steep roads, we felt like we had become one with the surrounding landscape. In fact, in some areas, we literally became one with the surroundings. Recent road construction had chopped huge chunks out of the surrounding granite. Walls of rock surrounded us on both sides, while chunks recently rendered from the earth lay at the road’s edge and sometimes in the road itself. Looking up at roughly hewn rock walls at both sides of the road, we made our way through the earth towards Tierra del Fuego.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
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The docking ferry waits to disgorge its cargo.
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- The docking ferry waits to disgorge its cargo.
Along the way, we had the opportunity to cross beautiful rivers of multi-hued blues on wooden bridges. Of significant length, the bridges were in good repair but consisted mainly of trestles lined with rows of wood and then overlayed with unsecured planks for two tire tracks.
Before long, it seemed like we had changed continents. Large flat green plains dotted with trees and giant rock outcroppings covered in roots and vines made us feel like we had somehow made it to the plains of South Africa. Wire and wooden fences designed either to keep animals in or people out, or both lined the gravel roadway and served as a frame to the beautiful scenes.
We rode across what seemed like African prairies while an ocassional large bird soared overhead on unseen currents of rising air. Circling and gliding surveying all below and perhaps looking for a mid day meal. Had the temperatures been 50 degrees more than the 50 degrees fahrenheit it was, I would have sworn we were somehow transported to Africa.
We continued on the good gravel on an undulating course. As we motored along we came upon some giant rocky outcroppings. We had to stop to check this out. Standing just at the side of the road was a gigantic wall of rock. Seemingly rising out of the ground for no reason, it looked like a giant anvil surrounded by some trees and covered with brush. Nothing around it was so grand in size it just seemed so out of place and so random in what had been fairly open riding.
I asked Kim to get off her bike and stand near to the rock tower and the enormity of the rock was clear. Kim was barely discernible as she stood by the roadside. In fact, if you look at the picture in this selection, you will see her standing at the right side of the road standing beside her bike looking up at the rock. You can barely make her out on the right side of the road. It was truly impressive for a single rock.
Back on the bikes again, we made our way towards the little town of Puerto Natales on the coast of Chile. It was a pretty ride sometimes along the cost as we meandered into town and back onto pavement. But it was what happened in town that was about to make the day a little more interesting. We had stopped at a little diner in town for lunch for a quick little meal. As we left the restaurant, a man stood outside and explained that he was a newspaper reporter. He had seen us ride into town (there’s more to this story) and he’d like to talk about our journey for the paper. After a brief discussion, we were on our way southward once more and we found that the next day, a brief article was published about us in the local newspaper.
Back on the pavement we paralleled the coast for a while and passed a few small towns which had been abandoned. The buildings were still in pretty good shape, but to townspeople had apparently moved on in search of something better. It was a bit of a strange feeling seeing all these buildings, it good condition, and not a soul around. Not far from he abandoned town, we came across an even more unusual scene. Just outside of the last town we passed not even totally out of the water, lay the hulls of two ships.
One, lay mostly beached, its hull mainly intact and its but the stern of the ship had mostly rusted away and had nearly departed the remainder of the hull. The other, laying on its left side had been reduced to its ribs and spars, the skeletal remains of a once seaworthy craft. We decided the sight deserved some closer attention so we stopped and took a walk around both ships. The more intact one was interesting, but the one that had been reduced to its skeletal remains brought about some terrific opportunities for pictures.
We walked around and through the ship’s hull taking pictures from different vantage points. Once fully inside, you got the feeling that you were indeed inside the belly of some beast. Ribs surrounding you and diminishing in size as it made its way to the sea. With a little imagination, you could envision yourself in the story of Jonah trapped inside a whale. This time, a whale with iron ribs which were slowly melting with time. It was quite a little short term adventure.
Unfortunately, we didn’t have much time to dawdle around the wrecks since we still had to make it to our ferry for the trip across the Strait of Magellan. So we hopped back on the bikes and continued our way southward. A couple of hours later, we came across another quite interesting sight. In the middle of nowhere, we came across what appeared to be some aluminum poles with some circular twisted tubes of metal at the top. There were several of the poles all in a row and they were on both sides of the road.
Of course we had to stop and check out the poles and find out what they meant. When we got closer we found that the poles and the metal at the top of the poles were designed as art and as an homage to the wind circling the globe. What that perspective, the poles easily started to make sense and the artistic viewpoint was readily seen. There was another learning experience for me as well.
On one of the poles was a plaque that indeed said the posts were an homage to the wind. However, there was also a globe inscribe on the plaque and Antarctica was on the top! Since we were in the southern hemisphere and the wind was from the south, the orientation of the globe for this artist was the opposite of what we were used to.
Each of these little stops was eating into our time and we really needed to be making time towards the ferry. Back on the bikes we straight lined it to the ferry and made it in plenty of time. Phew! As we pulled up to the ferry station, we had a little time to look around. There it was in front of us, the Straights of Magellan! Choppy waters awaited us but the ferry had not yet arrived. We looked for the dock, but none was to be found. This ferry was to arrive, pull up to the asphalt that ran to the ocean and drop a ramp to allow us to embark and other vehicles to disembark.
After about an hour of waiting, the ferry came into view. There was quite a strong current and the ferry had to crab heavily in order to run itself aground at close to a 90 degree angle. Seconds after it landed, the ramp came down revealing a heavily loaded ferry with several tractor trailer rigs and many cars waiting to unload. However, it was clear that the loading and unloading had been done many times before and it wasn’t long before it was our turn to board the ferry for the crossing of the straits and landfall at Tierra del Fuego where we’ll take you in part 15.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 13) Video Shots
So you’ve seen a lot of pictures and read quite a bit of our story in the Ride To The End of The World – Fin del Mundo. But sometimes, words and pictures take a back seat to being there. Here are a few video shots that bring you on our ride to Torres del Paine’, hopefully putting you on the bike with us.
We had stopped at a rather remote border crossing at the Argentina/Chile Border. The wind was way up and non-stop, in fact, it was so up, that the border guards stopped what they were doing, came out of the border facility with their cameras just to waive us through and wish us luck on our ride. What an experience!
Wind at the Argentinian Border from Mike & Kim Botan on Vimeo.
You must also remember the moments I spoke about in Part 11 where my attention was divided by the beautiful mountains, winding road, pristine blue lakes and grazing guanacos. Well let me take you there for a few seconds to see for yourself.
A Great View At Torres del Paine with Guanacos from Mike & Kim Botan on Vimeo.
Thanks for riding with us!
Mike and Kim
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 12)
With the morning sun came a beautiful blue sky and chilling winds and a weak and mostly ineffective sun. It was outright cold. Kim and I wiped the chill from our faces which had been sticking out of the blankets all night and sprinted for the hot showers. Running only as a chilled American can across the freezing and wind swept Patagonian landscape, we scurried to showers and nearly dove in head first. Thankfully, the water was hot and it was not long before we were warmed up and ready to head back to our tent to put on warm clothes, eat breakfast and start the day.
Nicely warmed up, fed and wrapped in appropriate clothing, we started towards the Mirador Condor trail. The sun had done some work and the temperature had risen into the 40s so it was a pleasant walk to the trailhead. From the road, we could see holes in the sides of some of the mountains where the condors were nesting. The opportunity to see the Andes Condors as well as the view from 2ooo meters spurred us on to make the climb to the top.
The first part of the trail was through forested hills with tree branches blocking out most of the sun. We could hear the birds chirping above us alerting others to our arrival in their neck of the woods. As we wended our way to the top, we stopped to take a few pictures of the things that surrounded us. Brightly colored flowers adorned the rising dirt paths as we made our way higher into the mountains. Flowers and berries splashed with reds and purple dazzled our eyes while small birds flitted from one tree to the next.
I watched a small bird bringing a green worm to its family members as it nervously flitted from branch to branch, concerned about the welfare of his/her family as well as the dinner he/she had just brought home. Luckily I was able to catch a few pictures of him/her as it jumped back and forth, eyeing us nervously. We didn’t want to scare him/her too much, so we walked away letting it bring its dinner to its family assured that we were not there to interrupt their afternoon dining plans.
After about 30 minutes of walking in the forest, the path took us into the open and we found that we had already climbed fairly high from where we had started. Below us we could see the Lago Pehoe’ campground and absolutely breathtaking views of Lago Pehoe’ and the surrounding mountains. My words will do the sight no justice, you just have to see them yourself to believe it. The pictures you will see here, really don’t come close to the absolute stark beauty of the scene.
I am learning that as I travel the world, each time I think I have seen the most spectacular sight that will never be surpassed, all I have to do is travel a few more miles and open my eyes to that which surrounds me. It is said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and that may be true. But having seen what I have so far in my journeys on a motorcycle, this beholder can only wonder how many more superlatives, how many amazing visions are left for one person to see in a lifetime. For what I have seen during our motorcycle journeys, certainly could fill the lifetime of visions for many less fortunate than me. For that, I am extremely grateful.
It was not much longer that we spotted our first black speck circling in the sky. It’s wings were outstretched as it lazily floated on the currents of air rising from the surrounding mountains. Tiny movements of its wings steered course corrections and it seemed like forever before it started to come closer to where we were. It was too far away to be sure what kind of bird it was and since it was very high, we had no background reference to tell how large the bird was.
We patiently (or perhaps not so patiently) waited for the bird to get close enough to ascertain what it was. As it got closer we could indeed make ut the fact that it was a very large bird. Black with a white ring around its neck, it seemed in no particular rush to go anywhere. Perhaps it was looking for its dinner, but it just soared and sailed on the currents rising from the mountainsides. Soon another bird came into view and then a third.
Now there was some action as the three birds started to swoop up and down and dart amongst each other. By now we could clearly see the white ring around their necks. These were indeed Andes Condors and they had decided to put on a show for us. Circling and sometimes diving, the birds put on an aerial show that was a delight. We stood and watched them for about half an hour, but it appeared that the weather was beginning to deteriorate and we decided it was best to return to our camp.
With more than a little regret, we made our way down the mountain, through the little forest and back to our campground. It was still fairly early in the afternoon, so what were we going to do for the rest of the day? Well the campground had a playground for kids and we were feeling rather like giddy adolescents, so we hit the little playground area and took turns on the see-saw. It is with deep regret that I must show you the photographic evidence of such foolishness, but I must tell you, we had fun!
After what seemed like hours in the playground which was probably more like 20 minutes, we returned to our tent for a quick nap and an late call for dinner so we could watch the sun setting on the Torres del Paine mountains. As the sun dropped lower on the horizon, the mountains came alive. Individual faces of the mountainside turned molten gold as the sun sank. The intensity of the gold increased until suddenly, the sun dipped below the horizon and the faces of the mountains turned to grey again. What an amazing show!
After dinner, we returned to our tents for another night of blanketed but cold sleep. Tomorrow we would be heading to Tierra del Fuego (the land of fire) in earnest. We’ll take you there in part 13.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 11)
The gravel was a welcomed friend, a not so old acquaintance with whom we were about to re-rekindle that solid friendship from days recently passed. Having the gravel under our wheels increased the excitement and intensity of the ride. Along with the relentless and chilling Patagonian winds, we once again felt like we were “adventurers” heading into unknown territory.
We rode for a few hours on the plains of Chile to rising winds and rising terrain. The wind was chilled and the air crystal clear. Even though we could not yet see them, we could tell we were approaching tall mountains and the cold air that flowed among them. Still, it was an enjoyable experience and only made us more anxious to see what lay ahead.
We had seen peeks and glimpses of the spectacular mountain range in the distance and even stopped to take a few “tourist” like pictures when we had a clear view of certain sections. We posed and smiled, with and without our bikes like we were the first people to have discovered this marvelous sight. In retrospect, it might have been a bit silly, but we were really enjoying ourselves and the preview of the beauty that is Torres del Paine.
After a few hours of riding, we came upon the entrance of the Torres Del Paine National Park and paid a fee to enter. It was not much, but it would be worth every peso that we paid. The gravel roads winded their way around and over mountain passes, exposing beautiful views of Torres del Paine. It was not long after we entered the park that we first sighted our first herd of guanacos.
What the heck is a guanaco I can hear you thinking. Well they are llama like animals and they are to be found throughout Torres del Paine. Sometimes solo, but most often in small herds, they graze casually beside the roads and on the mountainsides, quite happy to watch you as you watch them. It was quite exciting to see so many of these animals in their natural habitat and not be fearful of man. It seemed that with each bend we rounded, or each crest we reached, there was at least one guanaco lazily grazing nearby. It was a marvelous experience.
But this experience was only the beginning. For as we passed each guanaco, we also rode closer to to the Torres del Paine mountain range. Soon a competition for our attention began. Our attention was divided between the twisting gravel mountain road, lazy guanacos grazing at the roadside and our view of the approaching Torres del Paine mountains. As we rode closer, towering mountain spires conspired to steal our attention from the road and place it firmly on their granite majesty.
The closer we got, the more we were amazed by the scene. But then we got another treat. As we neared Torres del Paine’s towering spires, mother nature decided to up the ante with lakes as blue as any we had ever seen. They were sprinkled all along the road providing the perfect frame to Torres del Paine.
Transfixed as we were by all the surrounding sights, we soon came upon our stop for the next three days. The Lago Pehoe’ campground. We’ve camped in a lot of places, but we must say that the views nearby Lago Pehoe’ were unsurpassed by any other place we’ve ever visited. Just over the trees of the campground stood the Torres del Paine mountain range fronted by the multi-hued blue Lake Pehoe’.
It was not long before we arrived at Lake Pehoe’ Camping campground. We rode in and found our “camping” spot. Once again, it was excellent. Our digs for the two nights of camping were to be “permanent” metal framed geodesic dome tents set off the ground on large wooden platforms. This was as far from primitive camping as you can get. Inside the tents were two bunk beds with equipped with a mattress and a blanket. We even had a flushing toilet facility and showers and a sit down restaurant outside. Wow, was this terrific!
There were not many people in the campground so we essentially had the place to ourselves for the first day. It was already a quite chilly day, and the clear skies bode for a cold night. But with these amazing surroundings, we were happy as can be to be in such an awe inspiring area. We decided to go for a walk along the gravel road to take in some more scenery and get a better look at Lake Pehoe’; it was well worth it.
We wandered the road staring at the mountains and gawking at the lake. They seemed to compliment each other so well that as I snapped each picture, I didn’t think it could get any better, but every few minutes we walked brought a different angle or scene to see. It was unbelievable, but the views and scenery were in fact getting better.
I turned the camera on some trees and flowers for a change and even they seemed spectacular in these surroundings. How could this be? Were our senses just heightened by our surroundings or was there in fact just more beauty around each and every corner? I had no answer for this question, but I happily kept snapping pictures and enjoying the amazing walk we started.
By the time we returned to the campground, other travelers had arrived in their machines. This time they were not on bikes, but were in elaborate 4 wheel drive vehicles and they were on a 147 day circumnavigation of six South American countries. Mostly from Germany, they had already covered Bolivia, Peru, Chile and Argentina and had Brazil and Uruguay yet to cover. We chatted a bit and then went on our way to dinner.
After a good dinner, it was time for bedtime and we turned in for the night. It was quite cold, but we were secure in our tent and we bundled up as best as we could. It was still an enjoyable night.
The following morning we decided to take another walk, this time up into the mountains a bit. Our goal was to see the famous Andes Condors. So we headed over to the Mirador Condor Trail where we will take you in Part 12.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 10)
We glided over the paved narrow two lane following the contours of the fjord. The mountains rose even higher around us and the peaks were covered in a gleaming white snow. The brightly shining sun bounced from mountain top to the water’s surface and back creating a spectacular sparkle. Sunglasses were indeed necessary as we wended our way closer to the Perito Moreno glacier.
We stopped at a little toll booth at the entrance to the park and paid a small fee to see what would be yet another marvel on this trip. Just a few more miles down this winding and now forested road, lay an icy giant, silent and seemingly unmoving, yet amazingly powerful.
At road’s end, we found ourselves in a fairly large parking lot complete with a few tour busses and hundreds of cars. A couple of well maintained and new buildings sat to our left, providing places to eat and relax at what is one of Argentina’s natural treasures. There were several walking paths and we randomly chose one that split the two buildings.
Soon we were on an elevated and grated walking trail above the surface of the ground, heading along the water and then… There it was, the first close up sight of the Perito Moreno glacier. Just the far end was in bright sun and the remainder was in shadow, but the size and the power of the glacier could not be hidden.
Giant spires of ice rose from the face of the glacier like the pikes of an advancing ice army. As we got closer, the shadows could no longer hide the spires and they became clearer and larger. The immensity of this frozen monolith was as apparent as its ability to act as an irresistible force of nature. As the sun navigated its way in and out of the clouds, the ice sparkled, and the snow changed from dark grey to gleaming white, changed merely by the passing of clouds and will of the wind. Nature could indeed paint pictures using its own natural pallete.
We lazily walked our way closer towards this awesome sight on the elevated metal corrugated carpet, eyes riveted to the ice and snow. Just when we thought we’d seen it all, almost right in front of us, a grey fox rambled by us, not so much in a rush to hide from us, but more interested in finding a tasty morsel to dine upon. We were truly getting the whole show today.
As close as we could get to the glacier on our man made walkway, it was nothing compared to the up close and personal look we would get from the giant sized catamaran that would take us to within 100 feet of the glacier. As the time for departure approached, we eagerly boarded in anticipation of catching the aura of the glacier.
We were not disappointed as we slowly cruised out to the glacier. It was far better to slowly cruise out to it. The mountains framed the glacier perfectly and the passing clouds provided a cottony backdrop. Never had white taken on some many different shades. White ice, white snow and white clouds were all different shades of white and they were perfectly offset by the black of the rocky mountains and grey blue of the sea and the sky.
After about ten minutes of cruising, we reached the glacier. For a brief period of time, the giant catamaran turned off the engines and the glacier came alive. At times, we could hear the ice creak and groan as if it were restless and yearning to move faster. A cool and sometimes downright cold wind flowed from the top of the glacier and spilled over the edge like a waterfall of cooled air. Jackets were zipped and hats securely fastened in response to the glacier’s cold heartbeat of air.
So while we stood and stared in awe, we heard a gigantic crack like a single clap of thunder and a then a slight rumble. About 500 yards away, a large chunk of ice had wrested itself free of the glacier’s face and plummeted to the water below. We saw but did not hear the gigantic splash made by the ice and the waves generated by the bus sized chunk of ice now floating before us. It was an awesome sight. We were on a nature overdose and loving every moment of it.
But like all good things, our time at the glacier passed so very quickly. Soon it would be time to start our ride back to our little hotel in El Calefate for the night. As we walked back to the bikes, we marveled at how much we had seen in such a short period of time and how much we had enjoyed ourselves already. But still, we had a two hour ride back through gorgeous country to the hotel to look forward to. Not bad, not too bad at all.
After what seemed to be a very quick night’s sleep, we were back on the road early and covering some significant miles on mountainous yet smooth pavement. We swooped around corners and leapt over the tops of the mountains and dove down their backs. Four hours of pavement passed almost instantaneously.
But almost as suddenly as the road had been smooth and mountainous, we entered the plains again and were back on gravel. As much as we had enjoyed the pavement, it was good to be back on the gravel and heading into some remote areas again. As the mountains began to fade, the wind began to increase and once again we found ourselves crabbing into a steady wind with our 2 wheeled craft.
But we would not be too long without our friends the mountains, for we were headed to Torres del Paine and the most impressively beautiful mountain sunsets we have ever seen. We’ll take you there in Part 11.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 8)
Having sneaked our way into El Chalten in the midst of a snow and rain storm, we had been quite pleased to make it to our comfy little hotel snuggled in the back of this hiking and trekking town. The rooms were small and spartan, but they were indeed warm and inviting and we took off our cold and damp riding gear and put on some nice dry warm clothes. It just felt good to be out of the wet and wind.
We hung around our little hotel catching glimpses out the back picture window of the hotel of what was supposed to be beautiful mountain scenery. But rushing clouds and quick bursts of sun only served to tease us with a quick sighting of a sheer rock wall or shining ice, which would almost immediately become engulfed in a roiling mass of heavy wet cloud. If these gringos wanted to see the mountain scenery, they were going to have to be patient.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
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- Torres del Paine is out there…
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- Torres del Paine escapes from the clouds
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- Some of the peaks of Torres del Paine
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- Torres del Paine
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- Our little hotel. Second from the left.
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- The hand painted tiles in the side of the house.
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- Close up fo the hand painted tiles in the side of the house.
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- Cave paintings on the side of a house.
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- A look up at the plateau from El Chalten
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- The view from the plateau down onto El Chalten.
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- The view from the plateau down onto El Chalten.
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- The entry road into the town within the town of El Chalten.
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- The entry road into the town within the town of El Chalten.
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- El Chalten ambassador.
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- El Chalten ambassador.
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- El Chalten ambassador.
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- El Chalten ambassador.
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- Locals working on their homes in the chilly wind.
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- Kim with Waldo in the background heading for cover.
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- Where’s Waldo? Can you see him?
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- Where’s Waldo? Can you see him?
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- Locals chatting in native garb.
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- Not so local in partial native garb.
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- Not Waldo.
It began to get a little later in the evening so we decided to stroll into town as the days wind started to diminish as did the rays of the sun. Whether it was it the setting sun taking pity on us or the spirits that surround El Chalten, something seemed to want to take pity on us and the rain and snow stopped as quickly as it had started and the clouds raced away to parts unknown. For as we walked out of our place of respite and looked behind us, two towering behemoths came into view. Pointed and sharp as only newly minted mountains can be, they pointed skyward, appearing to rend the clouds from the sky. Then a third smaller pike came into view, these rock monoliths were not to be ignored, they wanted their presence known.
They had made their points. We stood there slack jawed, clicking pictures at alarming tourist rates. It was a conundrum of sorts. I wanted to take pictures to have memories, but I didn’t want to experience the sight solely through the limited view of a camera lens. I must have looked pretty foolish, camera up, camera down, camera up, camera down. The net result, fuzzy pictures and an even fuzzier remembrance of the exciting scene. Next time I’ll have to choose.
Ultimately, we were able to tear ourselves away from the scene and do a little strolling, get some dinner and even a little shopping done in town. Kim got some fun things and even I got something that you’ll see later (shade your eyes and hide small children). We chatted with the shop keepers as best we could and even a couple of locals. Overall we had a pretty nice late afternoon in El Chalten but we were pretty tired from the day of riding in the weather so after filling ourselves with empanadas, we headed back to the hotel for a good nights rest.
When we awoke the following morning the sun was out but the wind was again up. However, we weren’t going to let that stop us from investigating the rest of El Chalten. We’d heard that as well as being a climbing and hiking center, El Chalten also had a reputation for being a bit of a hippie throw back town. This we had to see.
So we started out after breakfast and just started walking around the small mostly dirt streets. Houses were in varying condition from very good to not very good, but everyone in the town seemed to be in good spirits and even though the town did not seem affluent by any stretch of the imagination, people seemed to take pride in what they owned and they tried to make their places look nice. Some folks were very creative in their decoration.
Hand painted tiles were fitted into the sides of buildings leaving a rather beautiful adornment to what would otherwise be a very plain house. Another had used stencils to make “cave paintings” on the side of their house. There was just a great deal of creativity amongst the townspeople. But we would find even more later in the day.
As we walked to the back of the town, we found a staircase that led up to the top of a plateau. You could see that it led up, but you couldn’t ultimately see where it was leading to. So curiosity obviously not under control, we marched our way up the stairs to the top of the plateau and found… another town!
Yes, there was another little town within the town of El Chalten. It had a glorious view of the town below as well as the surrounding mountains. It was breathtaking. But there was more to come. This town was just being built and many of the houses had yet to be completed. Some were actively under construction while others seemed to be waiting for their next phase to commence.
But what was really cool about this little town within a town was that each street had its own ambassador waiting to greet you as you entered. Hand crafted from whatever was available, there were statutes of birds, bicyclists, guitar players, skiers, and whatever the towns people felt would be a nice welcome to their little street. It was great to see that the residents of this little town had taken the time to build a little more charm, a warm welcome for themselves and everyone who came to visit them. It was great!
There was also another ambassador of sorts. An Old English sheepdog that had a habit of sneaking around following Kim wherever we went, but never got close enough for her to pet. He must have been the shy type. But he did indeed turn up in several pictures, pictures that I didn’t know he was in when I was taking them. He was sort of like a Where’s Waldo dog!
We enjoyed ourselves immensely up on the little plateau taking pictures and strolling the streets with Waldo. Ultimately we had to head back to the hotel because the wind was still up and it was getting chilly. So back down the stairs we went and we spied a couple of the locals chatting in local clothing. I just loved the look of their local garments. It make me aware of the fact that I was in Argentina where there are still Gauchos! Awesome.
As we made our way back to the hotel, we were thankful for all that we were able to see and do in El Chalten. We’d enjoyed every minute we’d been there, and tomorrow, rain (or snow) or shine or heavy wind, we were headed off to El Calafate where we’ll take you in Part 10.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
KTM Releases Videos of 1190 Adventure
The adventure riding market segment is indeed becoming a very crowded one. First KTM leaks the news of their new 1190 Adventure, then later formally announces it. BMW announces its new water cooled GS1200 and Honda announces that it is returning to Dakar with a CRF450 based rally bike. Phew! Is it hot in here or what?
Well apparently KTM doesn’t think its hot enough in the kitchen and has released these two videos of the 1190A in action to turn up the heat even more. So take a look-see and decide whether you need to turn on the air conditioning.
So BMW, what have you got up your sleeve to turn up the heat a bit?
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 7)
We awoke to more bright sunshine and the ever present strong and gusty winds. But it was another beautiful day and we were soon loaded up and ready to head back out onto the rippio of Routa 40 towards El Chalten. It was to be rippio for a large portion of the day and once near El Chalten, we would once again be on pavement for a while. Wow pavement, smooth, wide and potentially with road markings defining left and right lanes. At first I thought it would be a pleasant change, but then something odd hit me. I had become so accustomed to riding the rippio, with all its undulations, bumps, holes, random rocks, asteroid and pea sized gravel, sometimes very loose and very deep, sand, and unknown hazards, that I actually felt I was going to miss it. A lot!
Where was the adventure in pavement riding? Anyone could ride pavement! I suddenly didn’t want the rippio to end; ever! It seemed too sedate and boring in such an exciting and adventurous environment, it was truly going to be a let down once we reached it; or so I thought.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
With the push of the bike’s starter button the unwanted thoughts of the potentially smooth pavement ahead were ignited and expelled from my mind. The engines twin cylinder song sang sweet rhythmic melodies, raising my spirit with each rise and descent in the note of the engine. And as the wheels turned, the sound of crunching gravel beneath my tires crushed any concerns of boredom into nothingness, just like the Patagonian winds dispersed the dust of the rippio behind my bike.
Once on Routa 40, we rode many miles in two tire track ruts surrounded somewhat deep gravel. The road was straight as an arrow, as far as the eye could see, with scraggy brush extending to both sides of the horizon. First it was brown and as we headed south, it became greener and greener. It was easy going, but it was a bit mesmerizing and if we weren’t careful, we could find ourselves wandering out of the tire tracks and in the deeper gravel. That itself wasn’t really bad, but the wind was well and truly up which made recovery from the gravel all the more difficult.
We also had to keep our wits about us due to wild and unfenced animals. Cows and bulls roam free on the plains, as well as other plains animals like horses, sheep, foxes and rabbits. Sometimes they stay put at the side of the road and sometimes they bolt out right in front of you. Extra caution is necessary as you approach a heard or even a single stray animal. You really don’t know what they are going to do and help is pretty far away if something were to happen.
After about 5 hours of riding, we came upon a large lake. It was a sight to see, for we had been on open plains for days and had not seen a large body of water for quite some time. It was quite beautiful and we had to stop to take some pictures. We were getting a bit goofy since we were happy to see the lake, know that we were nearing El Chalten, our destination for the day, and that we were reaching pavement for the first time in days. It was just a strange brew of feelings poured into a single cocktail which we had apparently gulped down on empty stomachs. We were silly happy but we knew we were going to be somewhat sad once we got back on the pavement.
About an hour later, there it was; the pavement. It was indeed smooth, wide and it did indeed have excellent road markings. Oh crud, where’s the adventure in that? As a bit of an offset, the plains began to rise and turn into mountains. Green scrub turned into hills which turned into rock. Ultimately, the closer we got to El Chalten, the more we were surrounded by towering mountains; mountains with glaciers even. The thought of seeing the glaciers raised my spirits, and I was looking forward to seeing them. We stopped a couple of times to take some pictures but now the clouds were descending and the clouds had obscured some of the mountains from sight. Bummer! We did catch occasional glimpses of the end of a glacier, but nothing spectacular.
As we got closer to El Chalten, the temperature started to drop rapidly. In fact, it sort of started to plummet. The clouds that had started to lower, now appeared to be racing for the ground. Ice pellets were being flung from the cloud’s bottom and we knew we had to make a run for El Chalten before it really began to snow in earnest. We picked up the speed a bit and rolled on by a large lake complete with icebergs freely floating about. However, with the weather rapidly worsening, the only thing to do was to take a one handed snapshot from the handlebar of the bikes as we motored on past hoping to make it to El Chelten before the road coated with snow and ice.
It was becoming darker and the road was now wet. We were trying to beat the weather but it wasn’t clear who would win this race. Helmets down on the tank to beat the freezing snow/rain mixture, we made our way towards El Chalten. Cold, wet, and wind blown, we made it into town with minutes to spare. The wind started to really gust and we hightailed it to our little hotel. We quickly unloaded our bikes in the wind and snow and made our way into the warm hotel. It was a great feeling to be out of the wind and snow/rain.
So as I peeled off my riding gear I thought to myself, maybe it wasn’t so bad riding pavement on the last part of the day, for surely we wouldn’t have made it into town before the real snow and wind hit had we been on the rippio all day. So there it was, we could have adventure on pavement! I should have known better! With that thought, I was stoked, for tomorrow was a non-riding day and we would be exploring the hiking/climbing town of El Chalten where we’ll take you in part 8.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 6)
We overnighted in Perito Moreno in a drab little hotel room with bars over the one tiny window. It was dark and dingy, but it was warm and dry so we had no complaints. Striking out fairly early in the morning, we were soon out of the town limits and back on the gravel of Routa 40. The sun was brightly shining in a bright blue sky with some puffy white clouds. The road surface was fairly firm with some loose gravel strewn about, but overall it was easy going. The wind was up once again with a steady 30+ MPH wind blowing from a single direction. The upside was that the constant dust that had been our companion earlier was now destined to blow directly to the side out of whomever followed. It was a nice break from eating dust. However, necks soon became tired and sore from holding a crab against the wind. So it was a tradeoff of sorts, dust for neck ache. Hmm… which was better?
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
The gravel seemed endless. While the scenery was beautiful, there were long stretches of straight, unrestricted view plains that ran until they were blocked by surrounding mountains. Sight planes disappeared in a “V” in front of us as the seemingly endless gravel road continued unabated and without a twist or turn. Every once in a while, we would reach the mountains that had previously been long in the foreground but were now immediately in front of us. This gave us the opportunity to lean the bikes a bike and twist the throttles. Kim especially took the opportunity to wick it up a bit, her confidence growing after riding in the wind for a couple of days.
Sooner than we knew it, we had made it through that mountain’s passes and were back on the plains gravel with fields of grasses surrounding us, wind blowing and miles of straight gravel road in front of us. So straight in fact that as we made our way toward Tres Lagos (Three Lakes) we came upon a sign that directed us towards three different towns, 16, 246, and 345 kilometers away. The thing was, they were arrowed all straight ahead. Guess that road was really going to be straight for a while eh?
Covering such distances with only your thoughts and the wide open spaces gives you time to think. Think about the beauty that surrounds you, about how lucky you are to have this wonderful circumstance that you are able to travel the world and see things like this unhindered and unfettered by day to day tribulations. It really makes you humble. Over the comms, I told Kim how I was feeling and we decided to take a few minutes to stop and just soak it all in.
There we were, somewhere in the middle of Argentina with nothing around us for miles and miles but open fields surrounded by mountains, blue skies and fluffy white clouds. Frankly, it was a wonderful few moments in time. It was like we were on our own little planet and we were so thankful to be there. But it was quite strange, we didn’t feel like we needed to keep it for ourselves, we felt like we needed to share it with everyone, hence the couple of pictures you see in the gallery here. You’ll know which ones I’m talking about when you see them.
After about twenty minutes of awe, gawking and picture taking, we got back on the bikes for the final leg of our ride to the Estancia La Angostura, a working ranch (estancia). We hit several zones of construction which made the going a bit slow in places but was not difficult. But it did bring to mind that Routa 4o is changing and that the gravel will soon turn to pavement. So if you would like to ride Routa 40 in its gravel state, do it soon, because change is coming (for the better of the people of Argentina).
Another two hours on the rippio and we found a small sign announcing our arrival but the estancia was nowhere to be seen. All that was nearby was a gravel and sand two track leading off Routa 40. Since there were no other signs and Routa 40 continued on straight ahead for miles, we followed the little gravel two track for about two miles and there it sat, the Estancia La Angostura. Surrounded by cypress like trees and wrapped in bushy like vegetation it was a haven from the continuous winds. Once inside the surrounding trees and bushes, the wind was almost non-existent.
The estancia itself did indeed look like a ranch house. A long plain white washed building with no-nonsense windows, you could see it was made for work and not for style. Still, it had a natural beauty as it blended into its surroundings and seemed to be perfectly in place with all that surrounded it.
Inside it was even better. The tools and necessities of ranch life adorned the walls and tables. An old coffee grinder here, a saddle there, a set of bolo balls hung from the walls as well as a well worn and abused revolver. Each was capable of telling a story of its life on the plains of Argentina and the work that it had done in making the Estancia La Angostura successful.
We walked around a bit and were shown to our room. It was a modest bunk room with little adornment. However, the people had done their best to make it cheery and leave their marks. Although the walls were bare, without even sheet rock to cover the walls studs, the insulation’s batting had been decorated with multiple handprints. The handprints were in different colors and were all over the wall. It made for a very nice personal touch and gave you the feeling that folks who had done hard work lived in the room and you were now their honored guests. It was quite comforting.
Before we knew it, it was time for dinner. Once again it was to be an asado of lamb and sausage. We walked to the dining hall where in the corner, an entire lamb was skewered and slowly cooking. We sat waiting for dinner to cook chatting with friends and drinking some wine when the owners came in with their pet dog and their other pet; a lamb! It was a strange feeling seeing your lamb dinner cooking on a skewer and then the owners come in with their pet lamb! But this one was special, it had been abandoned by its mother and had become their house pet. It would never see the skewer!
We had a marvelous dinner and soon were off to bed for the next days ride to El Chalten the climbers paradise, where well take you in Part 7.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 5)
Having enjoyed hugely comfortable digs for a couple of days we were ready to make our way toward Esquel. We’d be traversing some mountain roads, but it was to be easy going with smooth pavement all the way. But we did have some nice twisties and a few nice stops with overlooks. We could tell that we were truly enjoying the trip since we were bypassing the opportunity to stop and take pictures at some pretty beautiful spots. It’s just that there were so many opportunities to see them, we had to force ourselves from becoming jaded to all that we were seeing and were still to see.
We breezed along the mountain roads swooping and gliding, powering up steep inclines and gliding down the backs. There was great joy in twisting the throttles and rolling the bikes side to side. Magic. Our bikes and our bodies flowed with the earth and easily followed its contours. It was as if the mountain had a giant magnet under its road and our bikes were magnetically bonded to the earth as were we to the bikes. We passed beautiful valleys hemmed in by great mountains and made few stops along the way.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
Because of this, our first stint of the day on the bikes was fairly long, we had lost track of the time. One such stop was for lunch. We often packed power bars and some fruit in our top boxes for an easy and quick snack. Kim remembered that she had stored a banana in her top box and was ready to eat it for her lunch’s dessert. But we’d done quite a bit of riding that day and the sun was beating down on us and the bikes. In addition, the banana had worked its way to the bottom of Kim’s top box where it had been bouncing about with all her other gear for most of the day. When she opened her top box and searched for her banana, she found on the bottom, a fine banana and dust puree a mixture. Eww!!!
So we cleaned up her top box and got to the business of eating lunch and taking a few pictures. There were some local flowers that we took a few photos of and before we knew it, we were back on the road. Once again there were few pictures taken as we zoomed our way to Esquel.
It was a fairly long day in the saddle but time really did zoom by. In fact, before we knew it, the sun was getting low on the horizon by the time we reached the border of Esquel. We were fairly tired by the time we reached our motel which was like a little hacienda at the outskirts of town. Complete with wooden rail fences and a central square area in the interior it was a great place to stop and catch 40 winks before we once again got back onto the rippio (gravel) on the famous Routa (Route) 40.
The following morning dawned nearly overcast, the few breaks overhead letting the sun’s warmth through occasionally. Our spirits however were on high since today we were going to ride the rippio of Routa 40, famous for making its way southward to Ushuia and also for the Patagonian winds that blow. We were about to find out what both were like on the first day our journey over its length.
Shortly after leaving Esquel, we made our way onto Routa 40 and the rippio. The towns gave way to large open plains of tall grasses. Some were populated with cattle and horses while others were empty and open for as far as the eye could see. About an hour into the ride, we spied a splash of color, pink color, not too far off the road. Two pink flamingos, not lawn ornaments, but the real things, stood as a pair, wading in a marshy area. I said to Kim over the intercom, that we weren’t in the States any more and there was the proof.
Shortly after we passed the flamingos, the wind began to pick up. Lightly at first, but then more steadily until it became intense. Severe is the word that comes to mind. A consistent 30 – 40 MPH wind that gusted even higher making the riding quite challenging. We would get accustomed to the steady wind leaning the bikes and our bodies into the wind causing the bike to take on a significant lean just in order to ride straight. A gusting of wind would require even more lean just to stay on course. Complicating things even more was when the gust would stop, we’d have to quickly take out the lean or risk falling off. It was quite an interesting and tiring riding situation. But after riding a few hours in these conditions we were becoming accustomed to it and riding became more easily to us.
About half way into the riding day, we came upon our first of many Gauchito Gil shrines. We would come to find that these shrines were all over Routa 40 and were filled with drinks, money, cigarettes, gifts, prayers and requests for help. The shrines in memory of Gaucho Gil and if you are interested, you can learn a bit about it here:
Gauchito Gil
We stopped at several shrines and took some pictures and also took the time to get a measure of the wind. It’s difficult to explain the Patagonian winds. They’re really something you have to experience for yourself. Here’s a bit of a taste of how insistent they really are…
Roadside Patagonia Winds from Mike & Kim Botan on Vimeo.
Back on the road, we made our way towards the town of Perito Moreno and our stop for the evening. We came upon this rather interesting sculpture. At first we couldn’t make out what it was, but when we referred to the drawing at its base, it became clear what it was. It was pretty cool now that we knew what to look for and we enjoyed finding it in the middle of what was pretty open and deserted spaces. After another couple of hours on the road, in the distance, we could make out Perito Moreno. Tomorrow we’d be heading for a working estancia (ranch) out on the plains with no communications to the outside world. It was a marvelous place and we’ll tell you all about it in Part 6.
Ride 2 Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 4)
We rolled into Bariloche in quickly gathering darkness. Up a paved road past some houses and a barking dog who chased us for a short distance. Not to long thereafter, we found the sign for the hostel we were to call home for the next two nights. The road into the hostel was dirt and lazily curved and climbed the hostel grounds. We finally came to the place where we were told to leave our bikes which was not level and had deep random holes surrounded by tree roots. Kim attempted to dismount her bike in the dark and for the first time on this many thousand mile trip, dropped her bike. She was bumming big time since she rarely drops her machine. But it turns out that as she pulled up, there was earth below her right foot, but nothing below her left but a significant eight inch drop and a tree root. She semi fell and hopped off her bike and emerged only with a damaged ego.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
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Our beautiful little apartment
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Our asado dinner
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Near Llao Llao
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Roadside overlook
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Kim at roadside overlook
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Ski resort near Llao Llao
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Chair lift
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View from the resort
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Dusty gear before cleaning
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Riding gloves pot holders
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Guess who’s coming to dinner?
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- Our beautiful little apartment
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- Our asado dinner
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- Near Llao Llao
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- Roadside overlook
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- Kim at roadside overlook
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- Ski resort near Llao Llao
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- Chair lift
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- View from the resort
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- Dusty gear before cleaning
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- Riding gloves pot holders
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- Guess who’s coming to dinner?
By now it was fully dark and we were unloading our night’s gear from the bikes. We walked down the hill to the room where we would be staying. The owner unlocked the door for us turned on the light and wished us a good night. As we walked inside, we found a very nice apartment! We were not expecting anything like this, it was indeed a small house and we were inhabiting the entire downstairs. We had a bedroom, kitchen, livingroom, bathroom and even a nice porch. We were psyched! We couldn’t see the outside surroundings, but the inside was certainly nice.
In the center of the hostel yard was a dining area where were to be served a home cooked asado dinner by the hostel’s owners who happened to be South African expatriates. Dinner time was not too far off and we sat down with several of our friends for a nice home cooked asado accompanied by some nice Argentinian Malbec. Mmmm…. it was good. Good food, good company, good stories and good wine. What a great way to top off the evening and a great day. Before we knew it, it was almost midnight and we wearily dragged ourselves back to our little apartment. Tuckered out from a long days ride, terrific food and perhaps a bit too much Malbec, we were really ready for the sack. We just dropped into bed and were almost immediately sound asleep.
The following morning dawned bright and sunny and we were anxious to see what was outside our little apartment. We were not disappointed. We did indeed have a nice little house surrounded by trees and shrubs with other small houses nicely situated not too far away. There was even a little man made reflecting pond with flowing water.
After a quick breakfast, we got onto our bikes and rode out into the surrounding countryside. We came into the town of Llao Llao and rode around its beautiful lake and some of the surrounding mountains. There was a small turnoff at one particularly beautiful overlook and there were several school buses with children ages from about 10 to 15. They giggled and ran and played at the roads edge and took pictures of each other at the not so significant drop off overlooking the lake and the mountains behind. It was a time for all to enjoy what nature was offering and the kids were keen on doing their best to enjoy it. We milled around with them and soon we had integrated into their little group. They were a bit curious about our Aerostiches, but they did offer to take our picture as we did for them.
Soon their teachers called for them to get back on the busses and we were almost alone at the roadside overlook. The view was all the more exquisite in the peace in quite that now enveloped us. We lolligagged around a bit longer and soaked it all in until it too was time for us to be on our way. It was lunch time and we found a small out of the way restaurant and enjoyed a nice slow Argentinian lunch. This trip was clearly becoming a journey of contentment. With all the mountains in the area you might imagine that there would be ski resorts around and indeed there were. The resort had an almost European feel with chair lifts operating and out-door places to eat and view the mountain scenery.
With some more riding, we headed back a little early into Bariloche itself for a quick look at the town and to pick up some supplies for dinner that night. We bought that staple of travelers everywhere, pasta, and of course, some more Malbec to go with it. Some cheese and crackers and we had a complete and ready to go dinner that was quick and could be made with little fuss and few ingredients. As we got to the check out, I struggled a bit with my Spanish, but I was able to pay the correct amount (I think) and we left to return to the hostel.
Before dinner, we did a bit of cleaning and attempted to clean off some of the dust from the road. There was plenty of it and it took us a good hour to get everything fairly spic and span. By the time we had finished it was dinner time and we embarked on the journey to make our pasta dinner. We had most everything we needed. A deep pot, a colander, a smaller pot for some sauce, some spoons for stirring and a couple of forks. But what we didn’t have were any pot holders. Dang it! But Kim being the resourceful soul that she is, simply said, no worries and broke out her riding gloves and we were immediately provided with two insulated pot holders. Bravo!
Ultimately, we were able to get the pasta served, our cheese, crackers and wine ready and sat down at the table next to the outdoor porch. We looked outside and to our dismay saw we had an interloper. A good sized bird perhaps about a foot tall, waited on the rail of the porch looking for some handouts. He cawed at us and jumped around on the rail. When I opened the sliding door to the porch he would fly off, only to return. I wanted to leave him/her some pasta, but he/she would always fly away. Hmm… come to think of it, perhaps it wasn’t the pasta he/she wasn’t interested in, could it have been the Malbec?
I’ll never know what was on his/her mind, because he/she didn’t come back after about the fourth attempt. So we were left to eat our dinner in peace and have a nice quiet evening. Tomorrow we would head to Esquel and the beginning of the famous Ruta 40 and the infamous and fierce Patagonian winds. We knew they could be strong, but we’d really underestimated their ferocity. We’ll tell you all about it in Part 5.
Ride2Adventure – Shrink the Planet One Ride At A Time
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 3)
Filled to the brim with Aurelia’s tasty empanadas, we wobbled over to the bikes for another few hours riding. We were quickly on the gravel and entered a national forest which winded its way alongside some beautiful mountains. We were at times completely covered by canopies of trees that made it appear that it was early evening as we traversed patches of mud from rain that hadn’t dried from who knows how long ago. Still it was great riding and the air smelled clean and fresh if not a bit humid even in the chill of the shadows.
We bumped along happily until we hit our first stretch of construction. The road was completely closed and what little traffic there was sat and waited while the graders, backhoes, loaders and dump trucks did their work. Some of the delays were quite short, just a minute or two, others were half an hour long or so. The work being done was quite impressive with large stone walls being created by sorting, fitting and piling rocks into “cages” of gigantic chicken wire like boxes. The rocks were well placed and there were few gaps between them. It looked as though they had been cemented together when in fact they had only been sorted and piled into the wire.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
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- Waiting at the construction site
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- Waiting at the construction site
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- Waiting at the construction site
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- The stone walls, neatly stacked and enclosed in wire boxes.
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- Finally past all the construction.
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- Old wooden bridge
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- Old wooden bridge
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- One of the wild roaming animals.
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- Kim, dusty but none the worse for wear.
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- A combination of old and new bridge
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- Getting late and wicking it up for Bariloche
What is really nice about being on a long adventure ride is that you really don’t “have” to be anywhere other than to get to the place where you are going to lay your head for the night. So it was no big deal for us to wait for the construction to finish. We had the opportunity to chat with other folks waiting in line and walk around a bit, take in the sights and enjoy the fresh air. So these little “impositions” in actuality increased the adventure of the trip somewhat. We met new people and saw sights that we might have bypassed if we had not been held up by the delays.
When we had cleared the last construction delay of the day, we were almost at the end of the forest and had the opportunity to turn the speed up a bit. The problem was that it was extremely dusty. Plumes of solid grey arose from the bikes tires and when a car or a truck (think construction vehicle) came from the opposite direction, it was a complete grey out for a significant length of time.
The dust rose in giant plumes with cauliflower heads that rose quickly and seemed to hang in front of you refusing to return to the earth from which they had sprung. Entering them was like diving into a vat of grey water. At first it yielded to your presence as your body left its impression on the face of the cloud. However, almost immediately, the cloud would recover its form and envelope you in a murky and misty grey nothingness where forward vision was all but lost. Our best bet for forward navigation was to look slightly forward and down for the road surface was about the only clear sight to be seen with everything else appearing only as ghostly shadows. Not a pleasant thought when you know that construction vehicles may be coming from the other direction.
Luckily for us, the heavy dust continued for only 10 miles or so, and the road turned more to the hard gravel surface it had been earlier in the day. That was a good thing since it was already getting later in the afternoon , the sun was starting to obscure vision and we’d rather not end up riding in the dark. We had come across too many wild and roaming cattle, horses, goats, sheep and dogs to feel comfortable riding with such reduced visibility.
We were determined to get to our stop for the night before dark but not so determined as to dismiss the beauty of the surrounding area. We were crossing a modern concrete and steel bridge when we noticed the old wooden bridge that it had replaced. It had been a multiple span bridge and the center span had long since fallen into the river. But the remaining spans framed by the mountains in the background and the still water, created a picture opportunity that could not be missed. So we stopped and got off the bikes to take some pictures of the awesome sight before us. While we stood on the modern technology of the concrete and steel bridge, the beauty and grace of the old bridge still reflected its brilliance upon the land.
After some oohing and ahhhing, we were back on the bikes only to come across a bridge that combined the two mediums of the new and old bridge we had recently passed. This one was composed of concrete and steel, yet had wooden decking and so combined the two eras together. Once again it made for a nice picture and of course we had to get one of us crossing the bridge over the River Mayo.
This day was becoming rather memorable for its sights and lack thereof in the dust. But sunlight was indeed running out and we needed to get to our room for the night in San Carlos de Bariloche. We did not know what our little room was going to look like, and when we finally arrived it was nearly dark so we weren’t able to see what our digs for the night looked like from the outside. Let’s just say we were not disappointed. We’ll tell you all about it in Part 4.
Ride To The End Of The World – Fin del Mundo (Part 2)
Villarica’s peak still puffed white smoke into the chilly early morning air as we prepared our bikes for the first real riding of the journey to the Fin del Mundo; the end of the earth. Both Kim and I were quite excited to get under way and I was quite impatient to get started. Gear sorted on our rented BMW F650GS twins we rolled out of the parking lot, puffs of steam from our mouths in the cold Chilean air replicating the puffs of smoke from Villarica. Today we would have a short hop on pavement but would soon be on the gravel and headed towards our first border crossing into Argentina. Our trip would take us across the Argentine and Chilean borders several times, but that was part of the fun for this trip.
By the way, if you don’t know, click on any one of the pictures in the gallery below and it will open that picture into a full size picture and then you can click your way through the remainder of the pictures in either direction in full size.
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- Villarica smoking in the chilly Chile morning air.
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- Villarica smoking in the chilly Chile morning air.
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- A small monkey puzzle tree
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- A large monkey puzzle tree splits the road
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- Dusty traveling
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- Dusty traveling
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- Lanin lying in wait
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- The town of San Martin de Los Andes
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- Lanin awaits
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- Lanin in scale
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- Lanin shows off its omnipotence.
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- Made it into Argentina
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- Aurelia, 3rd generation empanada chef
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- Aurelia’s daughter cooking our empanadas.
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- Ready to eat empanadas. Mmmm…. goood.
As we made our way on smooth pavement, we were greeted by green scenery and farms of various sizes. Flowers and plants were in full bloom even though it was November. Getting used to all the rich colors of flowers took some getting used to. Where we had come from, the bright color palette of many different flowers and plants had long since dwindled to browns and greys in anticipation of the upcoming cold New Hampshire winter. But here, the flowers and plants were just reaching their stride, full blooms with bright colors reached towards the sun as if summer would never end. Already, our surrounding environment had us wishing this journey would never end.
The day took on a bit more overcast look as we approached the Argentine border. To match the darkening skies, the road conditions changed from smooth pavement to rough and loose gravel. It became quite apparent that we were approaching some mountains and we’d be riding through the mountains on gravel roads. The surface was fairly good but quite dusty. Clouds of dust rose quickly and obscured vision if we rode too closely together. We decided to give each other a fair amount of spacing since we wanted to be able to see the sights as we trundled along the gravel.
After about an hour of riding, we found our first new experience in the form of the Monkey Puzzle Tree. A cross between what appeared to be a cactus and a Douglas Fir tree, the Monkey Puzzle tree was indeed a bit of a puzzle. Thick spiny needles protruded from branches and trunk of the young trees. Mature trees were over 75 feet tall with very large green spines. They were indeed puzzling, were they cacti or trees? Well they were trees and they were quite cool. Apparently the locals thought so as well since the roads were sometimes split by them with each lane going on either side of the tree.
Riding sometimes steep climbs and descents, we winded our way over and around these gravel mountain roads. Beautiful scenery passed us by on both sides of the road. Mountains surrounded us as we wended our way through forests in uninhabited areas for many miles.
Having ridden three hours on gravel, suddenly, as if someone had just turned on a pavement machine, we were off the gravel and on pavement. It was not long before we began to see small farms with livestock and signs of people. It was not long before we arrived in the town of San Martin de Los Andes. San Martin de Los Andes sat near the base of the Andes and the rim of a large beautiful lake. It had a bit of a tourist feel to it and as a result, had all the amenities of a small city. Stores, restaurants, banks, cars, busses etc. were all present. It had a true hustle and bustle feel. A tiny city connected only by gravel roads on both ends. We made use of the ATM to pick up some Argentine currency and were quickly on our way.
Before we knew it, we were off the paved roads and back on the gravel and in the isolation of the Andes. Once again climbing and descending, we rounded a corner and entered a flat area and there it was in front of us, Lanin, another active volcano. Capped in snow it appeared as a stone giant dominating the skyline. As Kim rode by, I could see just how big and powerful Lanin was. Although Kim projects a strong and powerful presence, her form was overwhelmed and overcome by the sheer size of Lanin. As she got closer to the monolith, Kim appeared to quickly vanish into the background of Lanin’s might; it was a quick lesson in humility of humankind versus nature.
Shortly after passing Lanin we arrived at the Argentine border where we met with a somewhat of a delay. We spent over 3 hours at the border straightening out paperwork, but ultimately were able to clear the Aduana (Customs) and get underway. This was to be our only delay at Customs for the entire trip, so we considered ourselves very lucky to cross as many borders as we did with only one significant delay.
With the border crossed and three hours lost, we had made it into Argentina with a wide open eyes and empty stomachs. Happy faces searched the roadsides for signs of civilization and a place to eat, because by this time we were pretty hungry. As we rode along, we noticed a string of roadside stands. Hmm… could this be a place to eat?
We pulled off the road and did a little investigating. Yes indeed, some of the stalls had food and we were in for a treat. One of the stands sold empanadas. If you have not had an Argentine empanadas, you are really missing something. They are pastries filled with meats such as pork, beef and chicken as well as cheese. They are amazing!
In addition to this delicious food, we were treated to even more. It turns out that our cooks consisted of three generations of women who had been cooking empanadas at the roadside in this very stall. The matriarch of the family was Aurelia and although my Spanish is poor, we chatted a bit about her empanadas stand and how long she’d been there. She even brought out a magazine article in which she and her family were showcased for their longevity and the deliciousness of their empanadas. Well we’re here to tell you that they deserved every bit of print they received and we’ve yet to find empanadas anywhere near as good as the ones we had at Aurelia’s little roadside stand in Argentina.
We still had a fair amount of riding to do for the day, but we’ll tell you about that in Part 3.
Glen Heggstad
It seems almost fitting that we start off with a rider, world traveler, motivational speaker and one of the most amazingly strong hearted individuals I have ever met; Glen Heggstad. Glen has led a life of significant twists and turns that could have led him down a patch of destruction. However, Glen was able to convert all of this adversity into positive influences for himself and the people he met as he circumnavigated the world.
Two separate books, Two Wheels Through Terror (a title he dislikes but was demanded by his publisher) in which his motorcycle trip from California to the tip of South America was interrupted when he was kidnapped and held hostage, and his second book One More Day Everywhere, chronicle his motorcycle circumnavigation of the planet. Both books will hold you spellbound for different reasons.
Two Wheels Through Terror for Glen’s ability to deal with adversity and his will to continue and One More Day Everywhere for the excitement of navigating the entire planet on a motorcycle and visiting people and places that some would not dare. All in the quest to meet the people of the planet.
Glen has been so touched by the people and places he’s visited, he donates 100% of his book royalties to charitable organizations. You can puchase Glen’s books from the Ride2ADV Gear Store by clicking HERE or at his website directly.
From Glen’s website @ www.strikingviking.net:
For half a century, it’s been a rocky road of contrasting lifestyles for Glen Heggstad. Growing up in San Francisco and influenced by Jack Keroauc’s novel On The Road led to hitchhiking across the US at the age of sixteen. Toggling between living in the streets and foster homes, a rebellious Glen followed the sentiments of his high school teachers who warned of winding up behind bars—he did: handlebars. And then into life of an outlaw biker. By age twenty-seven he had retired from the Hells Angels motorcycle club.
In 1979, Heggstad committed to full time martial arts training, eventually earning Black Belt teaching credentials in: Chinese Kung Fu, Shotokan Karate, Japanese Judo and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. During thirty-three years of devoted practice, he’s earned numerous titles in International championships while training troubled youths to believe in themselves via similar paths in martial spiritual development. But because of his Norwegian heritage, a lust for travel runs deep in his Viking blood.
Looping the planet four times over the last three decades, Heggstad has sought unique adventures wandering through fifty-seven developing countries via chicken buses, riverboats, by foot and even by elephants. From twice trekking the Himalayas to the jungles of South America where he was taken prisoner in the Colombian civil war, Heggstad’s crowning achievement became a multi-year solo motorcycle odyssey around the earth as chronicled in his second book One More Day Everywhere. From the wilds of Siberia and the Mongolian Gobi Desert to zigzagging the Middle East through the West Bank, Israel, Pakistan and India, to the length of Africa, Heggstad rode into one challenging experience after another.
Glen has encountered generous hospitality on nearly every level imaginable from Gobi Desert Nomads, to the cannibals of Indonesia and Middle Eastern Bedouin tribes, to later surviving for weeks on cows blood mixed with honey on the Ethiopian savannah. Being equally at home with city folk, simple villagers and primitive tribesmen, enhanced his empathy for those still struggling. This compelled him to donate 100% of his book royalties to international aid organizations committed to building schools in the developing world.
Now channeling energies into motivational speaking about achievement and goal orientation, he uses lessons gleaned from the martial arts competition arena and adventure travel to encourage others to better their lives and enhance their careers.
Books
We’ve found that books nourish the mind and spirit. They can inspire you, give you courage, thrill and frighten you. Skillful writers can convey sights, sounds and experiences while transporting you to places that you might never have the opportunity to visit. While your physical being may not have arrived, your mind has and you are a more fulfilled person for it. In this section, we’ll offer a few words about books and authors whose writing skills and abilities will bring you to new places or teach you a thing or two about yourself or others.
Enjoy!
Alaska – Gravel, Grandeur & Goofy Grins (Final Chapter)
Seward’s spectacular ocean beauty and sea life had left us slack jawed with amazement. It seemed that each time we went to a new location in Alaska, there was another gorgeous scene ready to unfold directly in front of us. But this day, there was another reason for our slack jaws and now droopy pouts. Today, we were to head back to Anchorage to end our Alaskan and Canadian Yukon adventure.
We had seen so much and met so many wonderful people, that we were indeed quite sad to be beginning the end of our journey. So with really heavy hearts and quite furrowed brows, we packed the bikes and headed northwest towards Anchorage. I can honestly say that the pace was purposely slow and the bike to bike communications between Kim and I were at an all time low; each of us lost in our thoughts and remembrances of the journey we had just experienced.
As we made our way to Anchorage, we took a meandering route to extend our time a bit more. The roads slowly and quietly hissed under our tires, interrupted only by the crunch of gravel and slight wobble of handlebars as we made our way over several sections of road under construction. Each time I was almost immediately returned to the hundreds of miles of gravel we had just covered. Soaring mountains capped with snow, glaciers creaking, groaning and calving new icebergs into a churning sea, wild animals roaming free and unafraid of man, soaring birds and amazing scenery could have conspired to effortlessly lift me from the bike and forever transform me from an itinerant observer to a permanent part of the landscape. I’d just become another part of what is the amazing natural life force that is Alaska. And if it had, I would have welcomed it.
But Alaska did not reach out and grab either Kim or me and we rolled into Anchorage late in the evening, very tired and each upset that our adventure was over. We’d get up leisurely in the morning, grab breakfast and ride over to the shipping agent. There we would unload our gear from the bikes and pack it in our suitcases for the plane ride home. We’d grab a cab back to the hotel and the following afternoon, catch a flight back to Boston and then drive home to NH. The agent would then crate the bikes up and send them home to NH.
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- 2,430.1 miles covered on pavement and gravel
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- 2,430.1 miles covered on pavement and gravel
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- Our trusty steeds at the shipping agent. Dirty, but none the worse for wear.
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- Unpacking the bikes at the shipping agent.
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- L to R – MaryLee, Tracy, Kim and Mike overlooking Eagle River, AK
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- Mantanuska Valley Horse Farm
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- On the road to Hatchers Pass
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- Tracy (rider) and Mike (pillion) going to pick up a bike in Hatchers Pass
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- Musk Ox
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- Kim and Mike on Chuck’s Ural
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- DeHavilland Beaver at Ft. Hood Seaplane Base
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- DeHavilland Beaver at Ft. Hood Seaplane Base
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- Super Cub waiting its turn to take to the skies at Fort Hood Seaplane Base, Alaska
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- Display at Fort Hood Aviation Museum
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- F-15 Display at Fort Hood Aviation Museum
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- Display at Fort Hood Aviation Museum
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- Display at Fort Hood Aviation Museum
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- Cessna 182 at Fort Hood Seaplane Base, Alaska
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- Valdez Harbor Merged Photo
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- Dempster Highway Merged Photo
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- Outside Cantwell Merged Photo
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- Outside Cantwell Merged Photo
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- Denali Highway Merged Photo
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- Denali Highway Merged Photo
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- View of Alaska from our jet on the way home.
The following morning dawned with decent weather and we walked to the Golden Corral near the hotel for breakfast. Believe it or not, Kim loves Golden Corral. Really! She had a hearty breakfast and I enjoyed seeing her enjoy it so that brightened the morning a bit. Well I thought to myself, that’s going to be the highlight of the day.
We walked back to the hotel and jumped on the bikes for the ride over to the shipping agent. We offloaded the bikes and took a few moments to take stock of our situation. Our two little trusty steeds had indeed done an excellent job and performed admirably. Kim’s Suzuki DR650 and my KTM 640A never missed a beat in over 2,400 miles of pavement and gravel riding. To be precise, they covered 2,430.1 miles with over 900 (almost 1,000) of that being on gravel. They hauled a pretty heavy load including the riders, their riding gear, survival equipment and camping equipment.
Not once did they sputter, stall or break down. They carried us through torrential rains, deep mud, asteroid sized gravel and did not so much as cough. The were filthy, covered in dust, mud, and the Denali and Dempster Highway’s calcium chloride. If you are not familiar with it, calcium chloride, is sprayed on dirt roads as a dust preventative. It is slippery as snot when wet and almost impossible to remove once dried. In fact, years later, there’s still traces of it on Kim’s DR’s exhaust.
Nonetheless, these two trusty machines carried on without complaint. The least we could do was give them a quick wash before boxing them up for the long journey home. So we did. The cleansing process helped ameliorate some of my dour mood and washed away some of my angst. The physical contact with the machine and the slow rubbing, scrubbing and rinsing that was necessary to remove only the top layers of grime was like a balm to my raw feelings of having to leave; and in some way, I got the feeling that the bikes felt better too.
Rinsed and ready for crating, we rode the bikes back to the agents and got a taxi to the hotel. There we sat in the room wondering what to do with ourselves until the following afternoon. It was not more than twenty minutes when the phone rang. It was Tracy, the gent who sought us out in Dawson City and whose acquaintance we had made only as a result of a conversation we had with a couple we met in front of Mt. McKinley.
Tracy lived in Eagle River. a town just outside of Anchorage. He knew we were headed out of town the following day, but wondered if we would like to go for a ride with him and his wife MaryLee today. Damn! We had just dropped the bikes off at the shipping agents and they were probably already well on their way to being crated I told him. I think Tracy could hear the despair in my voice because he immediately said, “That’s not a problem, my brother Chuck has plenty of bikes and he can lend you both one!”
Well I don’t smile with my teeth showing much, but in this case Kim immediately knew something was up and asked what was making me smile so much. I told her and almost immediately her expression matched mine. Two Cheshire Cat grins coming right up! We immediately jumped into the rental car and drove to Tracy’s house. We got the nickel tour and headed over to his brother Chuck’s house. He had a fine collection of bikes. Chuck said, “Choose one.” Yikes! It was difficult to choose, but ultimately, I chose his R100RS PD and Kim chose his R/65GS. They were great machines.
Before we knew it we were off and riding as a group. We rode through beautiful mountain scenery and some awesome horse country in the Matanuska Valley. Then we headed over to Hatchers Pass where we took a brief ride into the pass but were forced to turn back due to poor road conditions. We then headed over to a most unusual Alaskan farm. What’s unusual about an Alaskan farm you may ask? Well how about if the farm grows musk oxen? They are indeed unusual creatures. Raised for their fur which is very warm, they are quite large, sound like tigers when they vocalize and can be quite aggressive when provoked. They were very interesting animals.
We spent an excellent day just wandering around Alaska and before we knew it, it was time to return the bikes to Chuck. Little did we know it, but he had one more surprise waiting for us. When he arrived he showed us his beautiful Ural sidecar rig and literally insisted that we take it for a ride. Who were we to argue? So we jumped on with me as the “driver” and Kim as the passenger. It was a blast for me. As for Kim, I don’t think she was as amused as I was. I had never piloted a sidecar rig and with changes in power, the bike changed direction somewhat. So as we made our way down the road, we also made away across the road. While I had the huge grin, Kim had the worried, I hope I survive fake smile on. But she is a trooper and came through with flying colors (and uninjured I might add).
More quickly that we could imagine, the riding day was over and we had to say goodbye to Tracy, MaryLee and Chuck. They had made our last full day in Alaska a wonderful day instead of a downer. We still cherish our friendship with Tracy and MaryLee to this day and even went on another trip with them which you’ll hear about in another article. After many goodbyes, we got into the rental and drove back to the hotel to catch some sleep and get ready for the next day’s flight.
When the following morning dawned, we had reconciled ourselves to the fact that we were leaving Alaska. We grabbed breakfast and Kim was once again in her glory at the Golden Corral. Tracy and MaryLee knew that I was a pilot and mentioned that there was a seaplane base and an aircraft museum next to the airport that we could visit if we wanted to kill some time before our flight home. So off we went and we watched seaplanes taking off and landing for a while. While I have several “ratings”, I do not have a seaplane rating and watching them only increased my desire to get one. Watching the bird get up on the sponsons and then break contact with the water was exciting as was watching them glide easily and smoothly onto the water’s surface, some more smoothly than others.
We then walked over to the museum and learned a bit about Alaskan aviation history and how much a role aviation plays in Alaska. Not only did they have historic displays, they also had static displays of various aircraft from fully restored and flying to in need of restoration and in pieces. It was all very interesting and a great way to spend the morning and early afternoon.
But before we knew it it was time to head to the international airport for the flight home. We had spent the morning with small aircraft which do the day to day job of ferrying everyday Alaskans and their goods from point to point. These aircraft are literally the lifeblood to many remote Alaskan communities. It was similar to our small bikes on our journey. They had carried us and our gear from point to point and provided us with the marvelous opportunity to observe some of Alaska and the Canadian Yukon. We hope that someday we will be able to once again journey to Alaska and the Canadian Yukon and like Alaska’s small aircraft travel all over Alaska on our little motorcycles that can.
Over The River And Through The Woods To Adventure Ride We Go
It was a lazy weekend day in more ways than one. The temperature outside was warm and the sun was in and out of the clouds. Not too sunny and hot and not too cold, it was just right. I too was lazy in more ways than one. It was about 10:30 AM and I was still in my sweats and a t-shirt padding around the house planning how I might round out the rest of the day doing nothing.
That plan however, was soon to go astray, to my good fortune. For coming up the road, first softly but then more insistent was the sound of single cylinder motorcycles heading up our gravel road. Hmmm… I wondered. Who was going to go play on the class four road at the end of my gravel road? There were lots of downed trees and mud, it would be quite a challenge to run that I thought to myself. But as I daydreamed about who might be taking on the challenge, the sound of the bikes became louder. Not just louder as in closer as they passed my house, but louder as in they were coming up my gravel driveway.
It must be Fredo I thought, and as I scurried to the windows at the side of the house, I found it was indeed Fredo and another friend Joe. Fredo on his KTM 250 XCF two stroke and Joe on his KTM 690E four stroke. Awesome was my first thought. So as I semi-ran down the stairs to greet them, my second thought was, I think I may be going for a ride today! And ride we did. It was great, I’ll tell you all about it shortly.
But first let me tell you about Fredo. If you’ve ever wanted a riding buddy, someone who you could ride with just to go out and have fun, it would be Fredo. That definition doesn’t extend just to the riding times either. On and off the bike, Fredo’s the kind of guy that just hanging with is a joy. Always with a smile and something good to say about everyone, Fredo is the epitome of the guy you want as your friend.
Oh, and Fredo can ride, FAST. Although he claims there are other guys much faster than him, Fredo is one speedy and accomplished muchacho. For example, I was at the KTM shop where we both bring our bikes for service. I was talking to one of the techs about how Fredo kicks my butt each time we ride in the woods and he quickly added, “Hey, I’m in my 30’s and I can’t keep up with him.” Well dear reader, I’m here to tell you that I’m in my 50s and I can’t even stay near him when he’s on the gas. The truth be told, when I’m quickly vanishing in his mirrors, he’s probably not really on the gas for him. But he’d never say so. Oh well…
But that brings me to the point of this little article. I’ve been riding with Fredo for about 3 years or so now. We’ve ridden some pretty cool terrain. We’ve done wide gravel roads, we’ve done single track woods, we’ve done mud, water crossings, rutted hills, ridden in snow, over rocks, leaves, you name it we’ve ridden it. In riding with Fredo, I’ve learned a lot. More than I would have learned riding by myself in many, many years.
Sometimes, it hasn’t been very easy and frankly, I’ve fallen off quite a few times trying to keep up. In fact, on this particular ride, I had my first inadvertent off trail excursion. Coming down a hill with the speed up (for me) trying to stay with Fredo and Joe, I somehow managed to lose the front end and off the trail and into the woods I went. It was one of those moments when you get religion real fast. They say there are no atheists in foxholes, and I can now add another place. There are no atheists on careening motorcycles headed off trail into the trees.
Luckily, I did not have communion with any trees and the only injury I received was a severe bruise to my already battered ego. But once again Fredo came to my rescue. Noting that I was not in sight, he turned right around and found me off trail in the woods. He wouldn’t even let me ride out. Noting that I was pretty winded, he basically took my bike away from me and hand manipulated it back onto the trail which was no easy feat since I had gone down an embankment several feet.
What all of this leads me to is to tell you that you need not go a long distance to get adventure in your riding. The single track, woods riding, water crossings, mud, rutted hills, all the different and challenging terrain each present various forms of adventure. Take advantage of it when and where you can. This particular ride only lasted 3 or 4 hours but gave me a significant sense of adventure. It will do the same for you if you let it. Get out on some terrain that challenges you. Make it a bit of work and learn some new skills. You’ll be better off for it and with your new found skills, you’ll be able to conquer that kind of terrain when you go on that long “cross-country” adventure ride, or find yourself on terrain that you hadn’t expected. Bring a friend along who hopefully has better skills and learn together. It will be fun, you can count on it.
I would say you could ride with Fredo, but he already has enough of a challenge with me.
Ride2Adventure – Shrink the Planet, One Ride at a Time
Alaska – Gravel, Grandeur & Goofy Grins (Part 10)
The captain moved the throttles full ahead and once again we were motoring towards our next destination, Aialik Glacier the largest glacier in Kenai fjords. Unfortunately, we found that the ice was too thick in the bay to enter so we motored on towards the Holgate and the Surprise glaciers. Along the way, we would be on the lookout for whales and if we found any, we would stop and observe them for a while.
It wasn’t long before we spotted our first pod of whales. A small group of Humpback whales rolled and dived in front of us. The captain pulled back the throttles and put the boat into idle. We were now floating free and the whales seemed to enjoy the throbbing of the boat’s engines. They slowly and easily swam over towards the boat and appeared to be as curious about us as we were about them. Some swam right alongside the boat and rolled on their sides to view us as we leaned over the side of the boat to view them.
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- Seward Harbor and the Kenai Fjords Boat (2nd one in) that Mike drove
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- Humpback Whale Pectoral Fin
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- Humpback Whale Belly
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- Humpback Whales
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- Humpback Whale Pectoral Fin
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- Humpback Whale
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- Humpback Whale
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- Humpback Whale
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- Humpback Whale Tail
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- Humpback Whale Tail
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- Humpback Whale Tail
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- First of the Bergy Bits
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- Holgate Glacier
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- Holgate Glacier
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- Holgate Glacier
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- Surprise Glacier
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- Surprise Glacier
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- Holgate Glacier Chunks Falling
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- Holgate Glacier
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- Holgate Glacier
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- Holgate Glacier
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- Canadian Maple Leaf Design in Snow
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- Ships Wake
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- Ship’s Wake With Full Power
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- Orca (Killer) Whales
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- Orca (Killer) Whales
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- Orca (Killer) Whales
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- Orca (Killer) Whales
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- Orca (Killer) Whales
They seemed to revel in our wonderment of them. They showed us gracefully sweeping and flowing tails that slowly rose and then glided below the surface. Long white and barnacled pectoral fins slapped the water and rolled from side to side as they showed us their ribbed and streamlined undersides. With slow dives they vanished from view and came back to us with blasts from their blow holes. We watched their display for half an hour until they became bored with us and decided that something else was more interesting and they slowly swam away leaving us wanting more.
Showtime over, the captain again brought up the throttles and we were once again on our way towards the Holdgate glacier. This boat had real power and we were moving with all due speed toward our destination. A wide and churning white wake was left in our stead as we motored along. Soon land and mountains came into view. The mountains were snow and ice covered and before long, we started coming across small chunks of ice floating in the water. They were of many different shapes and sizes called, from a foot or so to ten or so feet in diameter. These smaller chunks of ice were affectionately known as “bergy bits”.
This could only mean that we were getting close to glaciers. We didn’t have to wait much longer as a white wall of ice and snow known as the Holgate glacier came into view. Far from smooth and stark white, it was a jagged, multi-colored sheet that seemed to have a life of its own. It creaked, cracked and groaned. Huge chunks fell and crashed off the sides creating gigantic splashes sending birds scurrying for cover and creating new icebergs or bergy bits.
As we got closer, a cold stiff wind blew directly off the glacier and straight at us. It was bone chilling. It was also continuous and steady causing us to bundle up if we wanted to stay outside and view the Glacier. The wind seemed like a river of water flowing directly off the glacier and that was exactly what it was. It was the trapped super cooled air that literally flowed from the top of the glacier over the edge and down to the ocean, just like a waterfall.
Bundled up we stood at the boats rail while the captain maneuvered us around to get a better and closer look at the Holgate glacier. Up close, we could see veins of different colors running through the glacier caused by the rocks and earth it had accumulated as it had scraped its way to the ocean’s edge. There were also caverns and cracks of significant size, large enough for people to enter if they could walk on water. It was truly an amazing force of nature.
Before we knew it, the captain told us over the loudspeaker that our time was up and we would have to head back to Seward. He also said if he saw anything interesting we’d stop to take a look. As he was turning the boat around, we rounded a part of the bay and lo and behold… there was another glacier. Aptly named Surprise glacier it had gotten its name because it was only visible from certain angles such as the one we now had as we exited the bay. It was not as mighty as the Holdgate glacier, but it was indeed exciting to be surprised by a glacier. It was not something that one normally imagines could sneak up on them, but the Surprise glacier had done just that. We roamed around the Surprise Glacier for about ten minutes and then the captain said we would be leaving for Seward again shortly.
Kim and I were getting cold and we headed back from the bow of the boat to the cabin to warm up. Just as we were passing the pilot house, the captain who I had been chatting with earlier about my Kindle and our Alaskan adventure ride opened the door, said hello again and…
Asked me if I wanted to drive this 7,200 horse power twin engined 95 foot long boat back to Seward for a while. Would I? Would I? Well hell yeah! He then calmly told me that the power quadrant and thruster controls were all mine and to go for it. He just said, “Don’t hit any of the big bergy bits, OK?” Wahoo!!! To say the least, I was thrilled. And so it was for about twenty minutes of cruising back towards Seward. But all good things must come to an end and in what seemed like just a few seconds, the captain asked for his ship back and I begrudgingly gave it back to him.
About 40 minutes later, we spotted more whales. This time it was a pod of three Orcas. It looked like two adults with an adolescent. The merrily breached and blew their way along the ocean’s surface, moving fairly quickly and paying little attention to us or to the other boat that appeared to enjoy them as well. It was great to see these wonderful creatures in their natural environment instead of in a captive setting. The Orcas seemed to have a destination in mind and they had little time or interest in us so our time with them was quiet short. They quickly were getting out of viewing range since it is illegal to chase the whales in Alaska. But we were good with the time we had with them and this time we were heading back to Seward for real.
The remainder of the trip was a bit of a blur since we had enjoyed the day so much. Before we knew it we were back at the dock and disembarking. We were thrilled with the days events but a bit sad for it to be over. The overwhelming feeling was one of thanks for having the means to go on such a wonderful adventure for we knew our time in Alaska was growing short. Before we knew it, we would be heading back to New Hampshire. But lucky for us, there were a few surprises to go and we’ll tell you about them in the final chapter.
Transiting The Trans Labrador Highway & Canadian Atlantic Provinces (Part 8)
Before we could make it to Lunenburg, we had an intermediate stop in the small seaside town of Charlos Cove. We were headed to a little inn called the Seawind Landing. Right on the water with great places to beach walk as well as grassy lawns to sit and stare at the ocean it was a wonderful place to hang out. To top it off, they had an excellent little restaurant with home cooked food and a nice wine selection. This was definitely going to be our “high-end” stop for the trip.
Traveling over the very bumpy and sometimes grass filled roads, we made our way towards Charlos Cove. The sky was bright blue with white puffy clouds seemingly racing us as we made our way to our destination. Some were fairly low and as we made our way up and down ridges and hills, I could see their shadows as they floated and squirmed their way across the pavement. They looked to be in a hurry to get somewhere but were relegated to moving in a straight lines. Although they can fly, I wondered if they wished they could traverse the twisties with us instead of flying straight. Were we clouds, it would a be a wonderful but tragic fate; to fly with the wind but be doomed to an unchangeable course set by it.
(By the way, if you click on any one of the pictures, a full size picture will open and you can then scroll through the entire gallery of pictures in full size in any direction.)
It was a long and bumpy ride, and by the time we reached our destination, we were pooped. Saddlesore and tired, we were more than ready to get out of our gear and have a nice quiet dinner and grab some shuteye. We unloaded our bags from the bikes and Kim normally quite resolute about long rides, said that the ride was so bumpy and filled with grass filled cracks, she’d almost have preferred to have ridden her dirt bike.
We were however, rewarded with a wonderful dinner, a room overlooking the ocean and a spectacular red sunset. Thoroughly satiated, we hit the rack for a great night’s sleep and a lazy rest day. We generally lay and sat about doing a bunch of nothing, reading, lounging in the Adirondack chairs in a grass covered field while taking in the sun and enjoying the day. But it couldn’t last forever and around 2:00 in the afternoon clouds began to gather. Shortly thereafter, the sky became grey and dark and a heavy rain shower began.
But it was just another beginning because it seemed like as suddenly as it had started, the skies began to clear and we were treated to a double rainbow and freshly scrubbed salty ocean air as the sun began to set. In doing so, its light cast a warm golden glow upon a nearby island and we sat and watched the end of a lazy perfect day.
The following morning we packed the bikes and headed towards Lunenburg for our actual destination, the Ovens Natural Park. Owned by the Chapin family, (yes if you know of the singer Harry Chapin, it is indeed his family that owns the Ovens) the Ovens is a combination campground (with rental cabins available), nature walk, sea cave exploring, and music wonderland. Right on the ocean not far from Lunenburg, the Ovens allowed us to get to know a bit of Canadian life, enjoy the ocean, walk the beach and explore several caves that run right out to the ocean.
We took half a day walking the nature trails which wandered among the sea cliffs and led to the entrances of the sea caves. There were beautiful views and paths that led directly into the caves for exploring. The caves are called the Ovens, which is what they look from the outside from the sea; hence their name.
Around noon, we headed into Lunenburg and were lucky enough to arrive just in time for the arrival of a Canadian national icon, the Bluenose. She was arriving into port with a full cannon salute and bagpipes piping. A crowd was anxiously waiting on the dock for her arrival and many camera were raised to take photos of the Canadian icon returning to its home port.
We quickly parked the bikes and joined the crowd. It was evident that there was a lot of pride in the Bluenose and it was great fun to be part of the crowd. With the Canadian flag proudly flying from her middle mast she majestically glided into the dock to great fanfare. Up close we could see that she was indeed a beautiful vessel, trim with sleek lines, a true portrait of the speedy racing ship that she was known and loved to be.
We took a few pictures of our own, chatted with a few people and decided to take a walk around Lunenburg to experience its sights and sounds. Lunenburg is known to be a bit of an artists colony and it did not disappoint us one bit. During its history, Lunenburg was a fishing town. Although the fishing industry is no longer its main source of income, its heritage has not been forgotten. As we walked down one of its main streets, we looked up at the street lamps and saw that they had been decorated with large, hand cut and hand painted metal fish of the Atlantic. They were great. Each light post had a different fish and they were in the fish’s actual colors. It made us want to walk the length of the street just to see the different fish!
Wandering along the streets of Lunenburg, we were treated to many galleries, shops, restaurants and even a museum. It was a grand afternoon of walking, visiting and just plain enjoying the sights, sounds and people. But the sun was rapidly sinking and it was time to get back to the Ovens before dark. We jumped back on the bikes and enjoyed a sea side setting sun ride back to our cabin. It had been a great day and we were looking forward to tomorrow. We had a fairly long ride to the tiny island off the coast Nova Scotia named Brier Island where we’ll take you in part 9.
Transiting The Trans Labrador Highway & Canadian Atlantic Provinces (Part 7)
We awakened to falling rain and fog. Our foggy heads cleared quickly, but the fog and rain outside refused to do the same. We resigned ourselves to more riding in the rain and reduced visibility, but that is part of the adventure isn’t it. We were more disappointed that we would be missing scenery along the way to the ferry at Port Aux Basques. Unfortunately, we didn’t see much for most of the ride, but as we approached the ferry, the rain did stop and visibility did increase somewhat.
Although the weather obscured the traditional scenery, we were in for a treat when the ferry arrived in port. Out of the fog, a giant ghostly shadow appeared. Moving slowly, it glided silently towards us with a nearly imperceptible rocking motion. We knew it was a ship, but we couldn’t clearly make out any detail. As it approached, it blew its horn and there was no doubt it was a large vessel. Then out of the gloom we made out the blue, white and gold of the MV Caribou. Although it was a very large vessel more than 565 feet in length, her impressive form glided more like giant kayak across the calm harbor waters than a ferry capable of carrying 1,200 passengers, 370 cars and 77 trucks.
Just as we thought she would pull into the dock and tie up, she gave us a special treat. What we hadn’t noticed was that the vehicles entered and disembarked from the rear of the ship. The Caribou was headed straight into the dock, so how would she unload her cargo. Ahhh…. A 270 degree turn would be necessary in the very narrow harbor.
So as easy as pie, the Captain of the Caribou turned his gigantic vessel around in the middle of the small harbor with very little clearance. It was an awesome display of seamanship. You want to see it? Well, OK…..
After a successful docking, we were able to load the bikes onto the Caribou for the ride to Nova Scotia. It was a smooth uneventful trip and before we knew it we were being discharged on the shores of Nova Scotia around midnight local time. Of course it was raining again and finding our hotel was a bit of a chore, but find it we did and we dropped into the rack to sleep the sleep of the dead.
Viola! We awoke to bright sunshine with only a few clouds dotting the sky. What a wonderful change! Having heard about the beauty of the Cabot Trail and the twisty roads that surrounded it, we made a beeline for the reportedly smooth pavement running along side the mountains and ocean. We were not to be disappointed; not one iota.
On narrow, bumpy and mostly deserted roads, we passed many small towns which seemed to have one thing in common; wonderful people. During our brief stops, or our overnight stays, it seemed that everywhere we went people greeted us and wanted to chat. All the greetings were warm and welcoming, we often felt like lost relatives. They wanted to know about us and they often told us much about their families and themselves. This give and take is in our opinion what true adventure riding is all about. We were really not all that far from home, but we were learning much from the folks we interacted with and I think we got a true feeling of what it was like to live in the Canadian Atlantic Provinces.
As welcome and comfortable as we were, we hightailed it towards Cape Breton and the Cabot Trail. The blue skies, clear blue ocean and sinuous mountain roads beckoned to us. As we rolled along the road that paralleled the bright blue ocean, we passed the tiny town of Wreck Cove and immediately the mountains which mark the beginning of the Cabot Trail became visible.
We could see the steep and twisting road immediately in front of us. A sharp hairpin turn led to the steepest part of the road that clung to the side of the mountain as the ocean lay calmly hundreds of feet below. There was only one thing left to do and it was to ride that road. And ride it we did. The road was steep enough at the beginning that we used first gear for the a significant portion of the climb. It was a bit interesting to be riding this twisting road only a couple of feet from the guard rail that was the only barrier a several hundred foot drop to the ocean below. But nonetheless, the view was spectacular.
As we crested the first ridge of the mountain, we lost sight of the ocean, but the pavement became very smooth and we were able to enjoy some twisties on a smooth surface. We both hooted and hollered into our communicators and told each other how spectacular the riding was and how much we were enjoying Nova Scotia. Although we were enjoying the twisties, we did take the time to stop and enjoy some of the spectacular mountain views along the top of the mountain pass.
Later as we began our descent from the top of the mountain, we were treated to another set of twisties, this time even more exciting than at the beginning of the day. Hairpins and decreasing radius turns awaited our eager throttle hands and wide open eyes. But this wonderful steeply descending road presented us with a significant dilemma. The problem was that the twisties were so technical that we dare not take our eyes off the road while navigating each corner. So you say, why would that be a problem? The problem was that just beyond that guard rail were the most amazing views of the north Atlantic you can imagine. The bright blue sea met an equally dazzling ocean and where they met at the horizon, it was as if the two were merged into one. The decision as to which to look at was mind rending.
But as we laughed to each other over our communicators, “someone has to do it,” we started down quickly scanning from road to sea, road to sea. If you know anything about instrument flying, it was an exercise in scanning. Don’t stare at anything, keep moving your eyes, soak it all in to your brain and make the correct control inputs. It was a test, but a wonderful one at that.
As the road straightened out a bit, it still provided awesome views of the ocean and of itself as it undulated up an over little ridge crests alongside the sea. To your left, green trees sprouted from the sheer mountain walls while to your right, the ocean vied for your attention. It was an amazing test of willpower just to stay on the road.
The mesmerizing ride took away all realization of time for us and before we knew it, we had completed the Cabot Trail and were headed back inland across the peninsula towards Lunenburg. A very lovely town with an artists flair, we were treated to more local sights and flavor. We’ll take you there in Part 8.
Transiting The Trans Labrador Highway & Canadian Atlantic Provinces (Part 6)
With significant regret we left our roadside whale watching motorized perches and rode on towards Blanc Sablon. I was somewhat gloomy leaving such a sight, and the darkening weather matched my mood. Overhead clouds were gathering and the skies brooded and darkened. By the time we reached our hotel, a cold misty fog surrounded us. We were looking forward to a nice warm room and a hot dinner. We were able to accomplish both and fell into the rack for a good nights rest.
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- Iceberg on the way to Newfoundland
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- Outside Gros Morne National Park
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- Gros Morne
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- Gros Morne
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- Moose at the side of the road
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- Approaching Rocky Harbor
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- Snow on the mountains outside Rocky Harbor
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- Entering Rocky Harbor
We awoke to overcast and heavy rain. It seems like each time we visited Newfoundland it rained and it looked like this visit would be no different. I dressed and we packed our bags for mounting on the bikes. It was while I was mounting the bags on our bikes that an older gentleman approached and quietly watched for a while. I clearly remember him. He was wearing a clear raincoat and a yellow Gloucester fisherman’s hat. I noticed he was wearing a Cessna belt buckle and he had the pilot’s wrinkles around his eyes from squinting into the sun. Just by looking at him, I could tell that this man had had some adventures of his own. Nearby, a tour bus idled its rough and slow diesel drone and he looked at it disdainfully. He would then watch me packing in the rain with a look of longing and desire. It truly appeared like he was ready to jump on and ride
After a while, he walked a bit closer and asked where we were headed and where we had come from. I told him that we had ridden from our house in New Hampshire and we were headed to Newfoundland. We chatted a bit about the trip so far and what the Trans Labrador Highway had been like. While we stood there in the rain, he looked me in the eye and looked over to the bus he would later board and he said, “I wish I was traveling with you.” You know what, if I’d had the space on the bike, I would have taken him along. Pilots have to stick together you know.
Before we knew it we were in line for the ferry getting ready to ride churning grey misty seas. Finally this signal was given and we rode our bikes aboard, tied them down and made our way to find some seating for the trip. Even though the trip started in the morning, the entire ride was dark and rainy. A few ghostly icebergs silently passed in the distance their silhouettes a grainy shadow against a backdrop of white-capped grey and green. A few whale and dolphins passed, breaking the water’s surface, spouting and seemingly pointing out the way. It seemed that in no time, we had arrived in Newfoundland and it was time to disembark and start our Newfoundland part of the trip.
Unfortunately, for most of this journey through Newfoundland, poor weather surrounded us and we decided to make a beeline to our first destination near St. Anthony, the Glacier Manor Resort. Now closed, it was a wonderful little place being built by a couple; John and Edna Simmonds using their own two hands. Dinner was home cooked by Edna while John literally serenaded us on the guitar while we ate. It was terrific. We sat and chatted and discussed the US and Canada and before we knew it we had transitioned from acquaintances to family in the breadth of a few short hours. Together with John and Edna, we’d been able to shrink the planet a little more on this trip. Wonderful!
We went out for an early evening walk in an attempt to see some moose. As the sun set, we came across a pair of very large great horned owls. One flew off quickly and the other stayed for a while and watched us watching him. We remained very quiet and did not make any quick movements or loud noises which might scare him off. Finally he had had his fill of watching us and as he flew away. But as he did, he left us a gift of one of his large feathers which we still have to this day. It was if he were saying, thank you for not disturbing us. For doing so, I leave you a part of me to remember us and Newfoundland by.
As the sky grew darker, we walked towards the more open fields and waited for the moose to come out. They did not disappoint us. They came out in fairly large numbers and quietly and calmly walked across open fields looking for some snacks. We watched in amazement wondering how such large animals could move about so silently. We watched for an hour or so and headed back to the resort for a good night’s rest.
Come the morning we made our way towards Newfoundland’s table top mountain National Park Gros Morne. It was green and gorgeous. Sheer walls of green with bare spots of rock shot straight up. Not to points, but to vast flat table tops that stretched for miles. Surrounded at the base by trees, as they rose, the mountains lost their leafy cover and instead were covered in huge patches of velvety green moss. The moss often undulated up the sides of the mountain giving the slope a wavy texture until reaching the table top. They were extraordinary sights.
While we stared at the table topped mountains, we were also treated to ocean view stretches. We rode alongside twisty two lane ocean roads with clouds racing perpendicular to our course. Fresh air treated our senses with variety. When the wind blew from the sea, it was sweetened with the brine of the deep. When if came from the land, it was pungent with pine. This ride had turned into a truly sensory delight.
We made a brief stop for lunch in a small town called Port Aux Choix. It was a charming place and it was clear that we were in Canada. One of the locals had hand carved a Viking statue and outfitted him full hockey gear including stick and shin guards. Of course, because he was cool, he was also outfitted with some rather trendy shades. Of course, we had to take a picture with him.
Continuing our southward ride, we made our way towards Rocky Harbor. To get to there, we again found ourselves on narrow twisty mountain roads with mountain and ocean views. At the higher elevations, snow was still on the ground and it was mid June! Along the way we spotted moose grazing and running alongside the road during the day. Beautiful to look at, but also an important reminder to be alert when rounding corners.
Rocky Harbor turned out to be another small town surrounded by mountains and the sea. When we arrived they were having a local regatta, and the townspeople were out and about in all sorts of small craft plying they way all over the harbor. It was a day of community on the water. We enjoyed the festivities for a while, but we really had to get going for our time was running short. The following day we had to be in Port Aux Basques to catch the ferry to Nova Scotia.
Arriving at our little hotel, which consisted of several separate little cottages and a restaurant, we caught a quick dinner and turned in for the night. Before we fell asleep the rain had begun to fall and tomorrow looked to be a damp ride to the ferry to Nova Scotia where we’ll take you in Part 7.
Marc Coma Takes A Poduim in the Baja 500, Honda Winning Streak Broken
From Ultimate Motorcycling
MRW rider Marc Coma has added another achievement to his already impressive resume, taking third place in the Baja 500 team competition held in Ensenada, Mexico, this past weekend.
The 450 mile (724km) rally pitted three-man teams against one another. Coma’s KTM USA squad was completed by Mexican rider Iván Ramírez and US representative Mike Brown.
Marc Coma (MRW Repsol KTM) says: “I am very happy with the experience; riding in a team event has been really positive for me. Discovering new things always allows you to improve as a rider and I had a really good team behind me: Both in terms of machinery and personnel.
“We had problems with the bike due to a crash and couldn’t take any risks after that, because we needed to conserve tire life and finish the race. In any case, the result is a good one.”
Owing to a big crash during Ramírez’ first stint, the team’s sole bike was badly damaged and they were only able to trail the leading outfits. An exhaust pipe of the KTM 450 enduro machine used had to be changed as a result of the fall. The bike is a smaller and more simple version of that used by Coma in the Raids World Championship.
Marc Coma’s expertise in navigation was not needed for this event, as the Baja 500 features markers along the course and not the road book typically used in Raids and rally competition.
Mike Brown was the rider for the second stint and he managed to cut the gap to the leader, whilst also gaining positions in the overall standings. The crash had affected the bike severely, which created some constant mechanical issues right up to the end of the race.
The final stint was undertaken by Coma, who started at a speedy pace but resisted the urge to take risks with tire preservation such a key factor. The MRW rider rode the coastal route which was divided into two very different sections: The first was a tricky, mountainous run, the second a quicker, wider route similar to familiar competitions like the Dakar Rally.
The trio of Robby Bell, Steve Hengeveld and David Pearson were the winners of the Baja 500 onboard a Kawasaki, completing the race in a total time of 9h 10m 03s. Two minutes and twenty-eight seconds behind were Honda riders Cotton Udall, David Kamo and Timmy Weigand. KTM USA and Marc Coma rounded off the podium, close to seven minutes off the winners.
The next event for Marc Coma will be the fourth Raids World Championship race, held in Sardinia from June 23-28. The Spaniard currently leads the series.
2012 Baja 500 Final Results: 1. R. Bell, S. Hengelveld, D. Pearson 2. C. Udall, D. Kamo, T. Weigand 3. M. Coma, I. Ramirez Jr., M. Brown
Forced Marriages – Do they work?
Forced marriages? What does the topic of forced marriages have to do with motorcycling or adventure riding? Have they lost their minds over there at R2ADV? Not really, for the most part. But what brings this topic to mind is the recent purchase of motorcycle manufacturer Ducati by automobile manufacturer, Volkswagen, AG through their division Audi for a reported $1.13 billion USD. Many financial analysts have questioned the purchase as making no business sense, saying that there is no concrete business case for the purchase.
So why would Volkswagen/Audi (let’s just call them Audi for now on) a German automobile manufacturer known for precision engineering, spartan, efficient, and practical transportation want to purchase Ducati, an Italian, motorcycle company known for beautiful design (sometimes at the expense of functionality), passion and racing prowess? Can the two heritages be aligned and successfully combined into one big happy family in this apparent shotgun marriage?
Well the conjecture is that Audi wanted a trophy in its cabinet and its purchase of Ducati certainly represents a big shiny one. Huge racing heritage, cutting edge styling and maker of perhaps the most iconic motorcycle ever to be manufactured, the Ducati 916. In addition, prior to the purchase, Ducati had been recently leveraging its racing heritage and begun moving and promoting its brand image to and even wider audience.
With the introduction of the Streetfighter, Hypermotard, Multistrada (version 2) and most recently the Diavel, Ducati had moved from a racing company to a full market motorcycle company. But, and this is a big but, styling has always been a HUGE priority with Ducati even over cost, functionality and dare it be said, winning races.
But the question remains, how will Audi reconcile this styling priority with its engineering practicality philosophy? Can/will Audi listen to the Italians when they say but this design is beautiful, you shouldn’t change it? Will process and engineering controls overwhelm passion and styling at the new Ducati?
This brings me to question what the new Audi/Ducati might do to their adventure bike; the Multistrada. Ducati, so fixated on performance, installed the engine from their world class superbike, tuned for torque, and fit it between excellent suspension. Based on all this power, suspension adjustability and perhaps styling, Ducati decided to mount a solid cast 17 inch front wheel. This is not an optimal wheel for off roading, but it certainly looks swoopier and handles better on pavement and at high speeds. Ducati just could not force themselves to fit a 21 inch front spoked wheel which probably couldn’t handle the projected power of the Multistrada, nor does it look especially nice. Especially limiting is he fact that no tire manufacturer made a “knobby” tire in 17 inch rim sizes. In fact, Ducati had a tire made by Pirelli especially for the Multistrada that they hoped would fit the adventure mission.
It was not a hit with the off road community. In fact, it was the reason I sold my Multistrada. It just really didn’t want to be an off road bike. It was an awesome machine on the pavement, but anything more than wide gravel roads were a chore for the bike. I should have known that from the start with the 17 inch front wheel.
So what will the new Audi/Ducati do? Will the new company use the Audi approach and fit the engineer’s choice 21 inch front wheel or stay with the 17 inch wheel. Recently, Continental Tire came up with a true “knobby” for the 17 inch rim so now the Multistrada has a knobby tire available. They are “low profile” knobs, but they are knobs. Will that be enough, or will the new Audi/Ducati start anew with a new design and a fresh sheet of paper, throwing away the Italian legacy?
Interesting question eh? I did find that Wunderlich, a german motorcycle accessory and tuning company had been working with Continental and developed this machine based on the BMW S1000RR. (picture from Motorcycle USA)
It’s an interesting looking machine to say the least. Wunderlich has no relationship with Audi that I am aware of, but does this impart an idea of German thinking? Such a comparison is pure conjecture, but it’s interesting to think about.
Well the jury is not only out, it’s yet to be selected. But once selected, it will be interesting to see whether this forced marriage betweenVolkswagen/Audi and Ducati is given the thumbs up of survival or the thumbs down of business failure.
Ride2ADV 