We left Canada in mid-November and flew back to Mendoza, Argentina to pick up our motorcycles. Our friends Juan Pablo and Juan Luis were both out of town but Juan Luis made arrangements to have his girlfriend Ampora take us to pick up our motorcycles at the cement company where they were stored. Mendoza had a 6.2 magnitude earthquake in September so we expected that they might be sitting at the bottom of a pile of rumble.

Instead, the only sign of disturbance was the arm of a manequin laying on the floor between the two motorcycles. We took the covers off and found them exactly as we had left them. Deb´s battery was completely dead and Dave´s headlight came on but the bike wouldn´t start. We rolled them down a ramp made of cement bags from the room in which they were stored into the larger building where Ampora pulled in her car and jump started Dave´s bike. Deb´s bike would only run when connected to the car battery so we had to leave it there and Dave took his bike to the BMW dealer, removed the battery then took a taxi back to put the battery in Deb´s bike. Luckily the dealer had a new battery.

Ampora´s brother owns a small farm in the mountains just outside of Mendoza from where he runs horse back riding tours. One evening he came to pick us up and we had a wonderful time riding in the mountains and then had a picnic with wine, cheese, wild boar and ostrich pate at his quaint home on a hill overlooking the city.

Horse back riding in Argentina

On the day we planned to leave Mendoza for Santiago, Chile we woke up to a steady rainfall and decided to delay our departure for one day. Our visas for our motorcycles expired on November 20 so we weren´t leaving ourselves much time for other delays. It was only a couple of hours ride to the border so it wasn´t a problem. The day we left was beautiful - sunny and warm and the mountains were covered with a fresh blanket of snow.

Andes Mountains outside Mendoza, Argentina

We got stopped by the Argentine police and thoroughly searched.

Dave and Argentine policeman

On the way up to the pass, we went through several small tunnels and then one really long one which was half in Argentina and half in Chile. When we popped out on the other side, we were at the border crossing at about 13,000 feet.

This is a very busy border crossing with lots of buses and people milling around so Deb stayed with the bikes while Dave went in to get us through immigration and customs. He came back after a half hour and we were delighted to be done so quickly. We got in line to leave and discovered that they were searching every single vehicle and every bag in each vehicle. We waited in line for eons and when it was our turn to be searched, were told that we didn´t have enough stamps on our paperwork. Deb once again stayed with the bikes while Dave went back to get more stamps from the Argentine side to satisfy the Chilean customs. We he got back they took the paperwork and told us to go on, we didn´t get searched!

The ride down from the pass was a series of about fifteen 180 degree turns with trucks moving at about 10 mph or less. It went like this - pass a truck, take the curve, pass a truck, take a curve, pass two trucks, pass the third one in the turn...

We didn´t want to go to Santiago right away so we spent a several days riding around north and west of Santiago. On one road, we were on our way to the coast and just before getting there saw a sign that said ´Dangerous Curves´ for the next 2 kms. No big deal, we see them all the time, then we saw the sign ´End of Pavement´. Deb hates steep dirt roads but managed to make it to the bottom where the pavement picke up again. The road ended right at the ocean. We wanted to camp but couldn´t find a campground so we stayed in a nasty cabin. It got very cold at night so it´s probably a good thing that we were inside even though the place smelled like an old man (no offense to any old man reading this).

Pacific Ocean, Chile

I (Deb) was very concerned about getting back up the steep hill but Dave told me, ´it´s much easier going up´. I thought if I could just get through the first two turns, I would be ok. Just as I was coming around the first turn the road had several whoop-de-doos (hills and troughs). I let off the gas to go over slowly and my bike stalled. ´Oh crap!´ just when I was ready to bail off, the bike came to a stand still with the back tire sitting a trough. I was upright so I started it up again and gassed it. While Dave in front of me was using the skills we learned in our dirt bike course, (standing up and moving his little butt from side to side to shift his weight) I was flailing all over the place, afraid to let off the gas and cussing the entire way, almost certain that I was going to crash in every turn. Was I ever happy to get to the top of that hill!

German Restaurant, Chile

Eventually we made our way to Santiago and found the cargo terminal at the airport. Our bikes are packed and sitting in the warehouse waiting to be flown to New Zealand. Even though we had reservation, one guy told us the plane was full and they wouldn´t go out until next week while another guy told us they would leave tonight. We´ll see...

Deb pointing to our next destination - New Zealand

Small town on the Pampa

We spent a few days in Bariloche walking the streets enjoying the scenery and friendly people. Dave felt that he could easily settle there. It offered great features like sailing, hiking, skiing, beautiful views and good weather most of the year. It was Fall however and the weather was getting quite chilly. We decided that continuing south would have to be left for a future date.

When we crossed the border from Chile to Argentina the last time, customs gave us an eight month visa for our motorcycles rather than the customary three months. We thought about this for a few days and decided to leave our bikes in Argentina and return in the Spring (November). We emailed the Horizons Unlimited community and we had the good fortune to be contacted by cousins, Juan Louis and Juan Pablo from Mendoza who offered to help us find accommodation for our motorcycles.

The route north to Mendoza we chose was through the Pampa, the flat scrub land rather than Ruta 40 which we had ridden previously. This route took us through small towns and past gauchos - Argentine cowboys - and along the road of dinosaurs, wine and apples.

On the road to Mendoza

Route of Dinosaurs, Wine and Apples

We arrived back in Mendoza at lunch time and went back to our favourite restaurant for our steak dinners.

David enjoying a steak

After a leisurely meal we went back to the motorcycle dealer where we had our bikes serviced on our previous visit to ask where we could get our bikes washed. The service manager told us to follow him as he was going to get one of his customer's cars washed. The bikes had a thorough scrubbing and we were told there was no charge, the dealer picked up the tab, imagine that!

While in the hotel, we were making tea and Deb had boiling water spilled on her left foot. After 34,000 km - 21,000 miles of riding the only injury that occurred happened in tea making accident. To those that are worried about all the bad things that could happen to us, I bet you never thought we would be disabled by tea! Deb was stuck in the hotel room for our last four days in Argentina while Dave ran around with Juan Pablo and Juan Luis evaluating potential storage locations and attending a polo match. Actually, he was a very attentive, administering first aid and bringing her meals to the hotel.

On the evening before we left, we were invited to the family winery for an Argentine barbeque. The food and wine were delicious. The barbecue allowed us time to meet Juan and Juan's family and friends and share some of the things we have learned on the road. Juan Pablo was very interested to gather as much information as possible, as he will be shipping his motorcycle to Vancouver in June, riding to Alaska in July then turning around and riding back to Argentina by the end of the year.

Since Deb wasn't able to ride and our motorcylces were parked in the hotel garage, Juan Pablo rode Deb's bike to the storage place.

We flew from Mendoza to Buenos Aires where we had a seven-hour lay over before continuing on to Miami. In spite of Deb's injury, we felt we had to take the opportunity to see the city. We left our bags at the bus terminal and had a short tour on foot enjoying watching the dancers and soaking up the atmosphere of the city. Tango is the dance most associated with BA and the charm of the city made it very enjoyable for Dave, or maybe it was the short skirt and the long legs of the dancer.

Tango dancers in Buenos Aires

Street in Buenos Aires

One of the most famous streets in the world is Avenida Nueve de Julio. It is about 14 lanes wide, passing through the heart of Buenos Aires and is not a highway.

Famous Avenida 9 de Julio

We said goodbye to Argentina and flew to Detroit where we were greeted by Dave's family. As we drove across the border into Canada, we were welcomed home by a snow storm, probably the last one of the season.

Our ride across the northern part of the Patagonian region was fun. The morning started pretty chilly and as we traveled across the wide open terrain the wind increased in speed. After three hours of leaning into the wind to ride in a straight line the low temperatures started to turn our hands and feet numb. We kept hoping that a restaurant or gas station would appear on the horizon to give us somewhere to warm up out of the wind. Eventually we found shelter from the wind in the ditch at the side of the road. Not as comfortable as sitting in a coffee shop sipping a steaming cup of tea, but it got us out of "el viento."

When the circulation had returned to our extremities we climbed out of the ditch and continued to Junin de Los Andes. Junin is one of the towns in Agentina's Lake District known for trout and beautiful scenery. After leaving the wide open windy Patagonia, we had enjoyed the scenic ride through the hills and now it was time to warm up in a good restaurant and enjoy some fresh trout.

At the edge of town, overlooking the Chehuemin River was a Bed & Breakfast with...heat! We checked into our room and looked out the window to enjoy the view of the river as we stood beside the heater warming ourselves. Later we walked around town looking at the homes and stopped at the grocery store to buy supper. On the walk back to our room another couple rode into the parking lot on their motorcycle. Chris and Sue, from England invited us to their room later that evening to share motorcycle travel stories and enjoy the warmth of the fireplace in their sitting room. Before leaving Junin we stopped at Via de Cristi, a series of beautiful scuptures that are interpetations from the life of Christ. It was on a hillside overlooking the the village.

Deb, Sue, Chris and David

Via de Cristi in Junin de los Andes, Argentina

The next morning we continued 25 miles through the Seven Lakes Area to the town of San Martin de Los Andes, then the following day 70 miles of twisty roads that followed the Route of Seven Lakes that eventually took us to the town of Villa La Angostura. Sue had recommended staying at Verena's Haus in La Angostura, and we enjoyed the comfortable room and a great breakfast. The next day we took a boat to the end of a peninsula in Arranyes National Park and hiked through the woods the 7 miles back to the marina, then another 2 miles back to town.

San Martin de los Andes, Argentina

Villa La Angostura, Argentina

We had left Chile two weeks ago after only four days, as it is a relatively expensive country when compared to the rest of South America. Now that we were farther south, we wanted to go back to Chile to see the Pacific Ocean again and the island of Chiloe. There goes are budget, but we figured we had traveled 20,000 miles (32,000 kilometers) so far so we may as well just do it - of course that also meant more meals from the grocery store, but that is okay because Deb makes an excellent cheese and cracker dinner and an even better sliced apple for desert.

The customs and immigration offices for Argentina and Chile are each about 30 kilometers from the border, with a smooth paved road running through the mountains joining the two countries. After crossing the border, we rode straight west through the town of Osorno, Chile and out to the coast to the tiny fishing community of Bahia Mansa. As we got closer to the Pacific the road climbed and Dave got curious as to how high we had to climb to get to sea level, assuming that the Pacific Ocean was still at sea level. Cresting the last hill gave us a birds eye view of the bay, the house and the small yellow fishing boats bobbing in the surf. We followed the pavement down hill until its end right on the pier. Turning to face each other we both said, "Well, looks like the end of the road."

We noticed a complete lack of hotels or hostels in town. We still stood looking out across the bay when a fisherman walked over to see what brought strangers into town. He told us to ride back up the hill and take the dirt road over to the next bay where we would find a hostel. The scene as we started down the hill on the other side of the ridge gave a very picturesque view of a string of homes along a beach, a small river and cluster of buildings along the far side of the river. The hostel we found was not much from the outside, but it appeared to be the only place in town.

We road up the steep driveway, past the gardener chopping ivy off the rock wall with a machete. Deb was not impressed by the place with it's peeling paint giving it a forlorn look, but Dave talked to the gardener and asked if there was a room available, how much it was and if he could see it. He came down the stairs with a smile on his face and told Deb she we be surprised. The home was spotless on the inside and our room had a large window with a panoramic view of the beach with large waves crashing over the black volcanic rocks near shore. After unloading the bikes Deb sat on a bench to watch the surf and Dave did some maintenance on the bikes while being watched by the gardener, four dogs and two cats. When the work was done the gardener went back to his chopping and Deb came over to watch Dave walking in circles around his bike muttering to himself. After quite a bit of searching and not wanting to believe the gardener would have taken one of his wrenches, Dave walked to the tool shed where the gardener had gone to sharpen his machete. Right near the doorway was the wrench. Did the guy try to steal it and dropped it on the way to shed. Deb though Dave was losing his mind, but Dave knew he had not walked near where the wrench lay. Deb then nodded toward one of the dogs, who was picking up a screw driver from beside the bike. So Dave wasn't losing it and the gardener wasn't a thief, it was the mischievous little dog!

Later we asked the gardener, who we had now figured out was also the owner, and maid, where the market was in town. He pointed along the beach and said follow the road. We walked south down the dirt road the ran along shore toward the cluster of buildings on the other side of the river. We walked about 30 minutes to find two small shops where we could buy some buns, tomatoes and bananas. One of the dogs from the hostel followed us to the shops and waited outside for us and two more dogs followed us back to the hostel only being distracted once to chase a pig that came out to see us. Doctor Doolittle would love this little town.

Road to the grocery store in Maiculpe, Chile

When we returned to the hostel, the owner/gardener/maid asked us if we would like supper. We looked at our small bag of groceries and asked what was available. Empanadas was our choice and that would not be available until 8:30 pm so we agreed to that and dove into our groceries to hold us over until then. At 8:30 we found out the owner/gardener/maid was also the cook and babysitter as he was looking after his grandson. Over supper Deb guessed that the hotel owner might be a former fisherman, and was used to swabbing the decks, that is why the place was so spotless, though Dave though he did pretty well as a cook, judging by the empanadas and held his own as a gardener if you looked at his flowers. What we couldn't figure out was how he could make a living running a hotel where we appear to be the only tourists to show up in quite a while, and we got here by accident as this town and the road to it were not even on the map.

Osorno Volcano is a picturesque volcano on the shore of Lake Llanquihue. We could see it in the distance as we enjoyed the sunny morning. After we decided to take the long way around the lake on the dirt road, the clouds started to roll in and obscure the glacier covered peak. By the time we had ridden past the base of the volcano and around to the far side of the lake the clouds cleared again and treated us to a picture perfect view of the lake and volcano. We spent the night in the town of Puerto Varas on the south shore of the lake. We stayed in a hostel run by a German man. It was very tidy but had too many rules for our liking. For example, there was a sign on the wall in the bathroom indicating that men were supposed to pee sitting down.

Road around Lake Llanquihue, Chile

We left Puerto Varas under threatening skies. Not ten minutes after we left, it started to rain. We were heading further south to the island of Chiloe. The ferry ride to the island was not the same as the ferry we took in Bolivia. This was large, was not powered by an outboard motor, and actually had ramps at both ends allowing an easy drive-on-drive-off passage. It rained the throughout the 30 minute transit and for the next 20 miles until we reached the town of Ancud. Our waterproof gear isn't very waterproof anymore so we were cold and wet. Luckily we had our electric vests and gloves to keep us from freezing solid in the wind. We stopped to have lunch and thaw out in a restaurant with a wood fire stove. Later we found a place to stay that was supposed to have heat but evidently they didn't put enough logs on the fire under the boiler because our room was freezing. In spite of that we had a great room with huge windows on both the west and south sides and could watch the storms blow in from the Pacific.

Ancud harbour, Chiloe Island

We had better luck with the weather the next day and spent it exploring the island which is made up of rolling hills, rugged coastlines, farmers and fishermen. We explored several sea-side villages before heading back to the mainland of Chile.

Chiloe Island

Castro, Chiloe Island

In the town of Frutillar, on the west side of Lake Llanguihue, we found a Bed and Breakfast run by a very sweet older lady. It was just like staying at grandma's house. She gave us the attic room which was very large, had sloped ceilings and a beautiful view of the volcano across the lake. She was always busy baking cakes for her 'kuchen' shop in front of the house. She did our laundry for us and when we asked how much it was, she said 2,000 pesos but if we thought this was too much, then we could just pay 1,000. Since it was an awfully large load of laundry, we paid 2,000 pesos (about $ 4).

The following day was another excellent day for riding as we crossed the border back into Argentina and through more of the Lake District to the town of Bariloche. We were very excited to finally arrive in Bariloche as early in our travels, whenever we mentioned Bariloche, people told us we would love it, and we did! It seems like an almost perfect place. Gorgeous blue lakes, dramatic mountains, twisty roads made for riding, fabulous skiing, hiking, rock climbing, sailing or just sitting in a cafe watching the beautiful world go by.

Horacio, a young man that grew up in Bariloche, noticed a Canadian flag sticker on Dave's bike when it was parked in front of the hostel we were checking into. He came over to ask us about our trip and we found out he was a ski instructor in British Colombia for a season. The next day Horacio dropped by our hostel and invited us to his home for an authentic Argentine asado. Argentina is know for its beef. An asado is like a giant barbecue of several types of meat. While Horacio got the fire going in the grill, Deb prepared the salad and Dave just stood by to supervise. We talked and ate for hours until we were ready to burst.

The Lake District lived up to our expectations.

Horacio and Deb