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).