Jim Rides Solo

Day 68 - Wednesday, January 8, 1997

Santiago to Villarica, Chile

Miles - 486 (Kilometers - 782)

Finally I left Santiago -- and a little late at that. By the time I met Dave and Leanne at their Hostal it was 10:30. Traffic exiting Santiago was a little hectic, and frankly, one thing I would not miss about Santiago was the psycho drivers, especially the bus drivers who are the most psycho!

We rode 280 miles together at which point we split. They were going to visit a friend of David«s father in Conception, Chile.They encouraged me to come with them but I was unwilling to delay my progress south any more. So, we said our goodbyes at 6:00pm and I continued another 206 miles to Villarica.

The weather that was day was as good as it gets -- sunny, clear, and warm. And the roads were great. Although I was wondering how the other Moonriders were doing and where they were, I was enjoying my newfound solitude.

Because I was now considerably south of the equator, the days were getting longer. I was counting on this fact to enable me to make more rapid progress in the ensuing days.

Once in Villarica, I found the Hostal Balboa -- one of the few items I copied out of Dave«s South American guide book. Did I mention that when I left Santiago I had no map, no guide book, no tent, no tire irons, and no 12mm wrench or socket (the most important size for the KLR 650)? I like to think that I am usually organized and prepared -- but in this particular situation I was neither. Nevertheless, I did have two things going for me, a fair command of Spanish and the ability to make friends.

So, I found the Balboa, which cost $10 for a room with a bath, expensive by Moonrider standards, but cheap by Chilean standards. The place was very clean and run by a woman who had family in Prague and had spent 3 months there last year.

Day 69, Thursday, January 9, 1997

Villarica, Chile to San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina

Miles - 257 (Kilometers - 414)

 My first entire day riding alone.

Started the day with a little pan (bread) and cafe with Dalila, the owner of the Balboa. Got on the road a bit late, 10:30. The drive from Villarica to Pucon runs along the edge of a lake, and I could see why it was such a popular resort area -- it really is gorgeous. Just outside Pucon is the turnoff to the Volcano.

Villarica is a live volcano and you can take a trip to the top and look down into the bubbling lava. I met some Germans in Cusco who had done it, but the trip is an all-day affair and my focus was south, south, south.

So, I took a quick trip up the 10 rocky miles of road -- going as far as I could up the side of the volcano -- and took a quick, tourist-like gander at the view of the lake below. I think by now, I was actually tired of sight-seeing. All I could think about was Ushuaia.

Pucon, Chile

Upon leaving Pucon and heading for the border to enter Argentina, I quickly encountered good old "ripio", that is road made out of gravel and sand. After 20 miles of ripio I was exiting Chile. Actually, this is probably the least frequently crossed border point, and when I arrived the office was out to lunch. After 20 minutes or so, the boys arrived and passed my through the usual paperwork in short order.

A couple miles down the road it was time deal with the Argentinian officials. Again, a relatively simple and painless process. In fact, not counting the time I waited for the Chilenos to return to office, it was the fast border crossing of the trip.

After crossing into Argentina I was ecstatic. I had crossed my last border. (Actually I had two more borders to cross, but it was with countries I had already dealt with--Chile and Argentina--so I figured the hard part was over.) I was heading south. And my destiny, it seemed, was in my hands.

Only a few miles past the border the ripio became soft and sandy and got the better of me and -- you guessed it -- I crashed. Before picking up the bike, I jumped up, ran to the rear of the bike, and took a picture. I was only doing what the other Moonriders would have done had they been there (except I was in too much pain to laugh).

Crash #6 for Jim -- You know what they say, "There are two kinds of riders--those that have been down, and those that going down."

My left arm was pretty well bruised up, but this crash caused the most damage far to the bike. Fortunately, most of it was cosmetic. Nevertheless, I was a bit upset at the damage I had caused to my baby, and to my left elbow. Boy do I hate ripio.

Shortly after my crash, I spotted a couple changing a tire on this lonely road. I stopped to see if they needed assistance, and I was greeted with the sweet scent of an aromatic cigar. The couple, Germans who spoke good English, were doing fine. When I inquired about his cigar, it turned out to be a Monte Cristo, my FAVORITE brand of Cuban cigars. He had purchased a box at the airport in Germany. Of course, I had to go to Cuba to get mine. So when he offered me one, well, see the picture below of one happy traveller!

Yes, it is a CUBAN cigar! Monte Cristo

After 40 miles of ripio I reached Junin de los Andes and an asphalt road! I stopped for a few minutes to change money. (In Villarica I had used my Visa at the ATM (caja automatico) to take out a bunch of money. You would not believe the places where you will find an ATM.)

Back on the road -- 40 miles of lovely asphalt into San Martin de los Andes, another quaint little lakeside resort. I met some nice Mormon missionaries who pointed me in the right direction for my destination, San Carlos de Bariloche.

But, after 20 miles of highway we were back to the dreaded ripio. Oh the vicissitudes of South American roads. I knew I had 80 miles to go, and it was now 7:00pm. I can average between 25 to 40 mph on ripio depending on its condition -- and I had no idea when I would encounter asphalt again.

I almost turned back -- almost. But, I sucked it up and head down the ripio. 40 tiring miles later I was at the town of Confluencia and I hit black gold -- pavement! The next 40 miles into Bariloche was a cakewalk, with daylight to spare!

In Bariloche, I stayed in a Hostal run by a woman who, it turned out, had had cancer of the uterus 18 years ago and subsequently adopted two children. Meeting her was one of those pleasant surprises that has made this trip so special. She very excited to learn about our trip and very supportive.

My Hostess at a Hostel in San Carlos de Bariloche

There are times when people question what we are doing, or suggest that we could be doing more, and I am the first to agree. I always feel like I am not doing enough, or wonder what else I should be doing to achieve the goals of our trip. But then I will meet someone, like this woman, who is pleased that we are doing anything at all, and I remind myself that we are each doing what we can. We are not perfect, but I think our hearts are in the right place.