Hi, campsites were usually found by simply asking locals. That said, a couple are mentioned in Chile's Lonely Planet book.

Since Kath's accident, her bike was running poorly, and chewing through fuel. Serious tailgating was, at times, required.



Then, despite our economical efforts, we were thwarted by a petrol station running out of gas. But, the police rang a guy who sold his stash for a cool 250% mark up. We were glad we weren't filling up a car.....



We then got to El Chalten and did a few touristy things.



It was good to use the legs again, and the views were, literally, unreal.



Outta there!



More tourist, and went to Puerto Morino (spelling could be off) – one of the world's few advancing glaciers.



It was pretty bloody spectacular, and when chunks fell, even small ones, they sent a thundering boom to all within hundreds of metres.



On the way to the eastern side of Argentina, we spoke to a dude with this bike. It was around 6'0 tall.



Saw more animals, and made it to the eastern coast!







From there, it was a swift ride to Punta Arenas.



Where, there was a festival.



To be continued......5500k down!



I've been pretty short of words lately – so here's a bunch of excuses; lack of time, lack of WiFi when camping etc, trying to do outdoor shit opposed to sit on a computer etc. But, I now have the perfect excuse to bother to write more; procrastination from uni work. I've stupidly chose to study whilst on the road, so we'll see if I'm able to sneak a 'P' whilst having intermittent internet access, no printed materials and not too much time to dedicate to it.

Back to the ride......Punta Arenas was as far south as we were heading, despite being a few hundred ks from the 'end of the world' (Ushuaia). Elisa's man was flying into Punta, and they were continuing on to Ushuaia. She bought him a spanking new Honda Storm, so they both had a little red 125 to ride. So, that was the end of our journey together, and two nongs with very little Spanish would head off north together, while Elisa and Tom would head south.



Whilst in Punta, Kath got her bent footpeg bent straight for the pricely sum of $2. Interestingly, we were told not to pay more than $20, as they might try to rip us off. But, I think my near-hobo look comprising of old clothes, unshaven and general un-keptness are starting to pay financial dividends.



While loitering in Punta for a few days, we rode out and saw penguins.







And dawdled in a national park.

Our, Kath & Rob's, next stop was Torres Del Paine National Park, outside Puerto Natales. The 240k ride there saw us get 60km on reserve, as we fought an amazing headwind the entire way. The final 60ks were at 50km/h, in a full racers tuck, with Kath slipstreaming me.

Then, we rode a back-way into Torres Del Paine along a great road, following a lake.







We needed extra gas for the return trip.



We rode around the park for two days, with rain the first day and pretty reasonable weather on the second.





Everything is pretty dear; we self catered all food and camped.



This mob, 'camp patagonia' which we mistook for a potential campground, wanted $200 USD a night.....



Here's a few general pictures from inside the park.







I tried to give Kath a glacier, but my ego was smashed. It never left the ground.



At the end of two days we returned to Puerto Natales, ready to catch a boat back to Puerto Montt. From there, we wanted to look at Argentina's Ruta 40. Exciting times!



Better do some uni stuff!

Boat ride – nothing riding related, then into Argentina after picking up our new (giant) tent.



Here we stayed a couple of days. I did the valves on Kath's bike and they were tight, which I thought was strange. Also, couldn't get the alignment 'viewers' open, so just had to guess TDC. Both Chile and Argentina's coins would either bend, or the middle would pop out when trying to open them up! Seeing as the bike's still going, it must be ok.

We then went to Bariloche, for more pesos, then hit the road north, on Ruta 40. Went up a road called 7 Lakes, which was as good as it sounds. Some good picnic spots.





We then began belting, at about 60km/h, up Ruta 40 – here are some pictures.....

Camped here:




Then, the next night in an even better spot, after some hunting to get out of the wind......



Slept in a creek bed.



Was a nice night, but still pretty windy – creek bed made a wind channel me-thinks. I had a go at cleaning our cooking stuff with sand, to conserve agua, and was surprised how successful it was.



Back on the road....



Vistas.....





Past more and more shrines – Argentines love them. They're in the most out of the way places, and often little houses are built to hold Jesus figures. They give the figurines cigarettes, money and water bottles.



On & on.....



Most of Ruta 40's paved in this region, but there's still sections of interestingness.



As we got further north, houses started to be made of mud.





We stopped in a town, and got a funny feeling – the campground was empty and the guy with a hostel waited around 10 seconds before saying it was full. So, to a creek bed we go. We camped without the cover on the tent, and were treated to some of the clearest skies we've seen. Upon waking, it was great to have a look around, and again drift away.



Upon waking, proving we're nongs, we found out our sleeping bags were soaked without the tent's cover. Oh well – 2 months!



North....







Gauchos are always on the roam, usually with a few dogs. These ones were herding horses and donkeys.



The best push-bike seen – he's got it right. But, given it's 2 stroke, I do wonder if he would have been better off just buying a small moto. If anyone cares about figures, my economy has been around 3.3 per hundred and 5800ks cost about $280.



Stopped in a town we can no longer recall, and went down to a river.



Pretty good-look'n.

We got to Mendoza, and realised there was a 'road of 365 curves', which sounds pretty irresistible. 2 days in the city was enough for us, and we were keen to depart. A lady said the road was closed, so you go up there at your own risk. I was happy with this – in Australia they would close the road, and a muppet could still probably sue someone if they cocked up on the road. Anyway, it was a steep one.



Up and up – around 1000m rise in 20km.



Bugger – Kath couldn't even fix this one.



70km + and now need to U-turn........






So, around 140k later, we were back to where we started, and headed towards Aconcagu, the highest mountain in South America (just shy of 7000m).



Here is organised littering; giving thousands and thousands of, full, bottles of water to Jesus. I don't get it.



While we stood in bewilderment, I watched more get delivered.



There was a lovely 6 litre bottle of water there which was still sealed, which, given the amount the shrine has, was taken to the night's camp. At said camp, we met a guy who made us feel like big pussies.



This guy, Mike, born in 1949, has been walking around South America for the last two and a half years, and has been walking around various parts of the world for years. He carries supplies for sometimes over two weeks, averaging around 30km a day. His pack is often 30kg plus. Most impressive, is the fact this guy is honestly one of the happiest people I’ve met. He gets amazingly excited over small things, is very helpful and, of course, has plenty of interesting stories to tell. Mike had few possessions, but was totally content with his life. I somewhat wish to emulate him, but not quite to his extreme extent. Oh yeah, he could speak 5 languages too.

We were now on an quiet road, heading north, with great scenery to take in.



We generally self cater lunch, and the food of the week was cheese, avocado and biscuits. We had a nice little picnic in the shade, and even managed to find blue cheese on this special day.



Onward!







Then, we hit a salt lake, so we took a few snaps.



And feigned 'World's Fastest Indian'. However, is was world's slowest Honda. At medium altitude, 60km/h is all she has.



We camped that night and attempted to visit a observatory, but the hours were out of whack. So, further north we trundle. There was a road which was a short cut (only 100k), but of course, there's a reason it isn't just the way. It started out ok.....



Began to be a bit washed out.



Then, we realised there had been some heavy rain – yep broke the concrete.



Then, in the middle, there was an approx 10k stretch of sand, which isn't a CG's friend. Pretty much 'paddle walked it'.



And sometimes, you just had to grab the bike by the horns, right Kath??



Bearing in mind we've seen one car the entire day, and there's this big thing in the distance......



It's our mate!



To get him all the way out there.....man, that's dedication I cannot believe. Our bikes couldn't even summit the hill he was on (power was dwindling, at around 2500m+).

Eventually, we saw our first water of the day. The reason I mention this, is that Mike (discussed above) we later found out walked that road over 3 days. Not only that, he loved it. There must have been 80k+ without water, and it was pretty warm in the sun. Hats off to that man.



We then camped in a friendly town.

Keep up the good work mate. Following your adventures with great interest.
Little bikes are the way to go
Keep the rubber side down, Macca

From here, somewhere near Las Flores Argentina, we rejoined Ruta 40.



Great road cut into the mountain.



Horses, and donkeys, often have their front feet tied together to keep them local. You feel for the poor things, and feel like setting them free!



To an amazing view – so many different colours.



I’m actually riding in that photo, way down on the right.




Then, to a hostel in Guandacol. In town, there’s a sign which says it’s 5km away, which was off-putting, but we persevered down the unmarked dirt roads. We were glad we did – it was excellent. A coffee pot (serving around 5-6 coffees) was about $2.50. They had speedy WiFi, excellent meals and the best service we’ve had. We were constantly bought grapes, fruit, pastry treats etc, all for free. The lady was also amazingly patient, and helped us with our Spanish. I pretended to do uni work for a few days, and these guys kept the bikes safe.



Unfortunately, from here Ruta 40 was blocked due to a landslide, which meant a 250km detour. Road wasn't that much better.



Seeing as we had to go past it, we stopped in a national park. There were thousands of years old paintings, and a massive canyon.





Saw a funny looking animal.



By now, we were in cactus country.



Surprised to see they flower.



More.







250k after the detour, we headed north ready to cross back into Chile over the Paso de San Francisco. A 500km stretch over 4500m; this road proved to be our biggest challenge yet.......

Thanks, Macca.

Hoping you get the chance to share your Asian ride adventures; contemplating stopping by on our way back to Oz.

Cheers, Rob.

So, we embarked on our 500km pass, over ‘Paso de San Francisco’ which connects Chile and Argentina……….
*
We needed more gas. Sadly, it took us little time to collect all these bottles. Strangely, lids were the hardest to find…..



We cleaneds the bottles and gots 15 litres.



No Touratech styles here; Kath just jammed on the 15 litres of extra fuel, without paying for a fancypants fuel tank, and doing our bit for the environment.



The road was pretty much deserted, but pretty in a rugged sorta way.



It soon opened out into enormous expanses of, empty, land.





As the afternoon snook up on us (yep, made that word up), we soon needed to find a bed or something to eat and drink, but there was absolutely nothing. We assumed there would be a couple of shops selling food, water etc as South Americans are generally incredibly resourceful.

Except this ‘refugio’, with a questionable character lurking at the door:


*
Seeing as it saved us putting up the tent, and was a similar shape anyway, we made it home for the night. It was pretty fresh, and by now we were at 3500m.

After a cold nights ‘rest’, we pushed on.

I chased some ass.



We scared some wild Guanacos across rivers.



By now, we were reaching serious, for us low-lying creatures, altitude.





Nerd talk time:
Vehicles roughly lose around 3% of power per 1000 feet of elevation, and being at around 4500m (15,000 feet), we therefore had lost around 45% of our paltry apparent 9.7hp. Also, that 9.7 is at the crank, so taking off another 12% of power loss due to the drive-line, means we were packing around 4.6hp at the wheels. But, given our bikes max power at around 8000rpm, and ours wouldn’t rev over 4000rpm due to not being tuned for altitude, I estimate we had around 2hp. Which explains our maximum speed of 30km/h on the flat.
*
Back to normal speak; the small tufts of grass made the surroundings a dull yellow.



As the day drew near, and we crossed the Chilean border, our concerns were raised regarding food and, more importantly, water. Fortunately, after explaining our plight to the Chilean border guard, he gave us a massive packet of cookies and filled our water from his personal water bottles. We were extra grateful, but it didn’t seem right to pay off a border guard, so a handshake and extra thanks were all he received. Also, no picture unfortunately.

So, we poked along. By now, it was crazy cold and the bikes were annoyingly slow, 15km/h up hills was good going. We stopped in the final ‘refugio’, at 4500m+ to assess our situation.



Shortly after discussing our silly situation where we had very little water, no food, it was freezing cold and had 300km to go, a bunch of Argentinians bikers came into the shelter. We had a chat, as best we could in our not too flash Spanish, and before long we were pals and we were ‘crazy’. They offered us food, which we declined as we felt guilty, but they soon pressured us into eating bread, cheese and canned meat in bread with them.



Not only that, they left us 2 rolls, a can of meat and a can of Sprite for our onward journey. We were extremely grateful and they insisted I look one of them up on Facebook!

However, shortly after they left, I got altitude sickness. I threw up what food I had eaten, and it was clear we were not going anywhere. Kath unpacked, set up our beds and did absolutely everything while I sat on the concrete step falling alseep. Things were not looking good.

I was alseep by 5pm, but had awoken early, cold, and had my longest night’s rest – constantly waking up cold and hoping for the sun to rise…….
*
The morning came, and Kath, again, did absolutely all the work packing up everything. I thought I felt better, and having found water in the refugio, drank 3 teas and ate a roll for breakfast. Just before we left, I vomited it all up. Oh yeah, that was the start to my 30th birthday………
The bikes were covered in ice.



I was full of life.



But, we needed to knock out the 300kms, as we had a can of Sprite, 1 bread roll and a few cookies to last us the day.

Little did we know, that the road also turned to dirt for 90% of the kilometres. But, boy was it a visual feast.



Then, a rock got caught in my sprocket, and luckily only knocked the chain off without getting caught up and doing any damage.



500m later, I got a front flat. We had gone from mentally positive to mentally pissed off. I couldn’t find anything which would fit the front wheel, so we considered waiting until a car passed and jump a ride. But, who goes, both, or does one stay? Who stays? What if one of us gets a ride to a place which can’t help? Neither have working phones, or reception. We played out a bunch of theoretical situations, and then it dawned on us that again we hadn’t seen a car today. So, I had another crack at the wheel and got lucky using a shitty shifter.



Hour later, we’re back in business and treated to a spectacular lake at over 4000m.











Unfortunately, there wasn’t much time for photos – we had a train to catch (metaphorically speaking).

Oh yep, so Kath decided to ride past the world’s biggest active volcano, like a boss. It’s 22,560 feet (6,887 m) and called Ojos del Salado.



Riding pretty much nonstop, I stopped for a numerical milestone.



We drank our Sprite in celebration and continued on. The border was a breeze, and we were back on the road. But, shocked to find more uphill. By now the scenery had turned brown.





Finally, we commenced the downhill run.



And booked it (for 125s), down to sea level at Copiapo, Chile. We arrived in the dark, and got a room in some shitty, but expensive, accommodation. Didn’t even buy a , just went straight to sleep.
*
The day had literally been emotional. From altitude sickness, to bike trouble, lack of water and stunning scenery. Due to vomiting, I had involuntary completed the 40 hour famine, was getting shafted on the accommodation cost but hadn’t felt so alive in years.
Who would have thought a starved day, filled with vomit and bike woes could make a man feel so alive.
I had a great 30th, and owe Kath for looking after me so well.

Congrats with your bday. Allthough it was to some extend shitty, i envy you guys for the truip you are doing.

Keep up the ride reports, its good reading

I to want to wish you a very Happy Birthday. Thanks for taking the time to post photos and write up a report.

Your doing a great job of it, not just posting, but also making the journey.

Continued good luck with the ride.

BeachGuy

Thanks, folks.

Will post more in a moment, the report is a touch behind!

Quick update, before we possibly go ‘offline’ for a short period.

We were heading north up Chile’s coast, with the aim being San Pedro De Atacama (near the world’s driest place other than Antartica, but Antarctica doesn’t really count cause it can’t really get rainfall).



We, where possible, avoided the highway. This picture is at a touristy place where everyone buys bracelets and enjoys overpriced cocktails with rude names. Prices were exorbitant, and we moved further north.



We wound up camping by the ocean, with no idea if we were supposed to pay or not for camping. Some dude eventually asked us for money (about $10), but we had no way to affirm if he was a caretaker or a clever entrepreneur.



The next day involved a lovely, quiet coastal road.


*

Before long, there was no vegetation. No trees, no plants, no ants – nothing. Apparently, this is where NASA tested their Mars rovers and found literally no signs of life when inspecting soil samples.





It was nice to sit down and eat a cracker and not worry about an ant sneaking in your pants.

Then, the dry land would meet the coast. Here, we stopped in a makeshift fishing village where we drank soft drinks and watched a seal frolic in the water.




Kath and I would spend some days riding along the stunning coastline.






And having picnics in spots like this:



Despite it being pretty sandy in parts, we both stayed upright.






Considering we were by the ocean, we were amazed at the size of the mountains. They were totes amaze balls (said Kath).






Eventually, we would have to head inland to get to Antofagasta; Chile’s richest city where the average wage is over $35,000 USD per person.



Mining was the game, and pushed up all accommodation prices. So, we camped on the beach. It was cheap, and the bedtime soundtrack couldn’t be topped.



We stayed here 3 nights, while I tried to do uni work. Interestingly, the shops had 'Rogues' ; a delightful treat (American with masses of flavour, difficult to get in Oz).

Next, we left towards Argentina via desolate nitrate towns. Apparently, farmers loved nitrate and nitrate exports were massive for Chile. Until, some clever Germans worked out how to synthase it in a lab. As a result, nitrate prices plummeted and towns were made desolate overnight.

Here’s an example of a nitrate town. Was massive, now 0 population. The town was also used for a short period (after its desolation) as a concentration camp for men during the Pinochet regime (a dark part of Chile’s history). However, no prisoners were killed here, and it was only occupied for less than 24 months. A place that evokes strange emotions; we’ll let Kath’s pictures do the talking…..















We continued, to San Pedro De Atacama. A touristy town, where most of the world’s observatories reside (clear sky 350 + days a year).



Lots of privacy.



Sunsets here were pretty good, but not as good as the number of tourists would suggest. Most poor buggers choose to get taken around in 4x4s on day tours.





Dickheads try to be inventive for a photo while 50 other people too try to think of something original to do. It’s awkward to watch. There’s only so many air jumps, hand raises, longing stares over the edge and pretend to fall photos a man can take. It made me mad and we chose to leave.





A night later, Kath did a cooking course and whilst I was alone, wondering the streets, we sorta got lucky.

But not in that sort of way.

An 8.2 earthquake hit northern Chile, which we felt well and truly. Less than 3 days earlier, we were camping on the beach, 20 metres from the shore. 900,000 people were evacuated along the coast, with 7 foot waves doing their thing. I have no idea how we would have reacted, had we still been there. What do you pack first? Do you move the bikes? Do you pack the tent? Do you just run starkers to the hills? Fortunately, we never had to answer those questions.

The nongs again felt really lucky.

Just discovered your posts today, a great read, good luck on your journey