Jay's Trek To Tierra del Fuego

Day 88, January 28, 1997
Coihaique, Chile to "No name town", Argentina

I did some well needed maintiance to the bike. I started by snapping my allen key in half attempting to replace my brake pads, I was even more excited to discover that the dealer back in Canada had given me the wrong ones! Being totally shot, I remembered a story someone told me once. I thought he was joking at the time, but I tried it. I made some new ones out of "JB Weld" liquid steel. It`s not working well, but it`s working.

My bike is in bad shape, sub-frame is broken again for the third time, clutch and brakes are gone, valves need adjusting, tires are bald and the suspension needs work. Kawi of Canada where are you? Please help. Another back breaking 250kms to Puerto Ing Ibanez. A bleak ferry terminal town with a population of mabey 150. It was 3:00pm, and they tell me the boat doesnt leave till tomorrow at 9:00.

A closer examination of the map revealed a pencil line road sort of thing..........a short cut if you will, around the lake to Perito Moreno. I thought and thought about it, the well marked roads are bad, how horrible will this poorly marked one be?..........Yea, okay I`ll go. Spent the first hour, and 50kms, just looking for the road......path. No signs, no markers, no cars, I think I found it. The.........trail, wound and twisted its way along the lake just like the map said. Mostly first and second gear the whole way. 2 hours later, I was getting worried, still no cars, and I had guessed at a couple of intersections.

Then..............Gold! The Argentinian Border! One lonely guy there, never seen anything like the paper work I had. He told me sometimes he goes days with out seeing a car, and I was the first bike to EVER pass through there. A new record crossing time...10 minutes!

The road continued for another 100kms of tierra, but getting closer to Patagonia, it straightened out and the fierce winds began. I could not keep a straight line, it was blowing me all over the place. Just like Jim says, you litteraly ride pitched over at a 45 degree angel, my neck was killing me.

Finally, Perito Moreno. Realizing I only had Chilian Pesos, I filled up with gas first, then broke the news to them. Stopped to talk with 2 Albertan backpackers, hitch hiking their way to Ushuya! They looked at me like, "anywhere for us to sit?" I felt horrible leaving them there on that cold, desolate stretch of highway. 300kms later in Pico Truncado, this petrol station didnt like the gas gag as much. They insisted on Arentinian currency. "Pocito problema,........no tengo dineros, solamenty peseos." I said. They gave me directions to a motel that might be able to change money for me.

I left the fuel equivalent in pesos as insurance I would return. "Cinco minutas," I said............See ya. (I know it was kinda rude but they got thier money, and I was on a mission!) Back on loose gravel again, I only made it 50kms into my get away. The bike startted doing some weird stuff, I pulled over to find a big spike in my rear tire. I pushed my baby off the road into the desert, unloaded, put it over on its side and yanked the wheel off.

The sun was setting and the rain was starting. Patched the tube with no problem. Getting the tire back on the rim was a problem. Total darkness, flashlight in my mouth, wheel bearings packed with sand, soaking wet and sweating. I got the tire back on but I used all 3 of my CO2 cartriges attempting to seat it properly. It didnt happen. There was nothing else I could do. I put it back on and rode. A Two hour pit stop. It was holding air alright, just a little wobbely. Didn't know how long it would last, but we made it all the way to Fitz Roy. Basically just a gas station on the Atlantic coast (the Atlantic Coast.......Woooooo!!!). A big friendly tire guy came out to help me with it (people down here are fantastic). Some peanut butter and jam, I was back on the lonely road by midnight. 1:30am, cold and tired, I found a shanty motel type thing. Went around back and looked for a place to set up the tent.

The wind was blowing like crazy. Just as I started to set up the camp, a huge 300 pound pig came snorting out of the darkness. It scared the daylights out of me. He was`nt friendly either. I tried throwing some small rocks at him, but he seemed to love it. He chased me around the bike a couple times. Alright, that was enough. I started up the KLR and rammed him. He retaliated by chompping my front tire! Okay, okay, fatty wins, I moved to the other side of the building. Filthy dirty (just like my buddy), I colapsed into my tent for the night.