So I left Chile Chico about 8:30 and rode the short distance to the border. Checking out took about 5 minutes and then it was about 6kms of no mans land with a couple of signs about half way. About another 15mins to check in to Argentina and it was starting to spit rain so I put on my wet weather gear. I rode to the first town called Los Antiguos and found a café/restaurant that was open that time of the morning. I asked if I could just have a couple of eggs on toast and a coke. What I should have asked was how much does a couple of eggs on toast and a coke cost. The eggs were scrambled and overcooked, the toast was a couple of yesterdays bread rolls. The coke was fine. A nice lady there who spoke some English. When I went to pay it was $27 which I thought was pretty expensive. It was only later when I checked my account that I saw it was $US and was actually $42AUD. A great lesson on modern Argentinean prices.

I rode east to Perito Moreno which only took an hour and fuelled up. My plan was to head as far south as I could that day but to stop off at a place called Cueva de las Manos (the cave of hands) on the way. Well. That plan didn’t quite work. I met two Americans about my age on big bikes at the petrol station. They were planning to do a similar thing but showed me a map which said that the route I had chosen was a gravel road and so they were taking an alternative route to the north east and then going south. That would add another 300kms to my trip and mess up my timing. So I decided to just go to the cave of hands which was an hour south and then come back again and do the same route as them tomorrow. My overall plan was to stay on that side of the continent and follow the sealed roads all the way down to the bottom and the town of Ushuaia. It was still 1700 kilometres but would be safer for my sciatica and give it more time to heal.

It was a quick ride down to the entrance of the National Park. Sadly, my lack of research meant I took the first entrance when there was a second one which would have been better. Maybe. It was a 20km ride in on gravel which was okay. Not great but okay. Then when I arrived at the ranger station, I found out it was another 5km ride and then a 3km walk to get the entrance to buy the ticket. If I walked quickly, I could just catch the last tour. I thought I’d give it a go. It was starting to get overcast and windy. I got to the carpark and decided that I couldn’t get there quick enough in my bike gear so I had to do a quick carpark change. There were only half a dozen cars there. I also had to leave all my gear on my bike. Unguarded. I have a small bicycle lock which I thread through my helmet, jacket and pants. I assumed no one would want to steal my smelly boots. The wind was also picking up and the rain looked ominous.

I locked my riding gear to the bike and then put on my bike cover as a form of mental security. And headed off. After 10 minutes of downhill I realised that I had left my wallet in my pocket of my riding pants, so I had to walk back up and get it, so I had my credit card to pay to get in. Now I had to walk even faster. At least there was no altitude to contend with. I could see the big cave across the canyon and it was only a half a kilometre fly but I of course had to walk the 3kms. It was a nice walk down to the river and then a climb up out again to the office. I made it to the ticket desk with 20 minutes to spare. And the last tour was in English. My luck had changed. No. When I went to pay I discovered they only take cash. And I didn’t have any. It didn’t look like there were any other options.

Finally, the lady said that I could pay in Chilean pesos, which fortunately I still had enough of in my wallet. Crap exchange rate but I was in. I put on my silly white construction hat and headed off with about 20 others and a guide. You can only do the tour with a guide. I was the only native English speaker and a couple of Europeans who spoke some English. It was good for my Spanish as he talked first in Spanish and then repeated it in English. It was about a kilometre of boardwalk along the side of a mountain face. In reality there is only one cave and you can’t go in it but it’s not deep and you can see inside and the only artwork is at the entrance anyway.

The artwork mainly consists of hundreds of handprint stencils which were made by the first hunter gather groups of the region approximately 10,000 years ago. They said that those people still lived in that area up until about 1400 years ago. They were only discovered within my lifetime. I guess that could mean I’m old? There were also figures of hunting scenes and guanacos (native llamas). I couldn’t help but think about how the Australian art was so much older and better. And how we don’t seem to appreciate what we have in our own backyard. I guess it is changing slightly but more as a way of making money than celebrating our heritage.

We got to the end of the walkway and then I slipped away and back to the start because I needed to walk the 3kms back to my bike if it hadn’t blown away. And the skies were getting even darker. I made it back in time and then had to redress for the 5km ride and also because it was easier to wear everything than try and carry it. I could see across the canyon, and having been there, could see the ticket office and the road which you can go on that takes you all the way there without having to walk. It’s called the main entrance. But it would have been a lot more riding and less exercise to go that way. As I pulled up at the rangers office five kms away it started to bucket down. The have a little shop there and a small campground. It’s run by a group of young rangers who spend the season living there. They make cakes and empanadas and they sell beer, coke, and water. I was fine. It rained for a couple of hours and it was obvious that I wasn’t going back to the main road and back to a nice dry hotel. Fortunately, I had all my camping gear for this exact situation.

The rain eased but the wind picked up. The campground had little circular pens where you could set up your tent out of the wind. I waited for a break and then did exactly that. I slept okay and all my stuff stayed dry which seemed different to the other campers who had everything hanging over the fences to dry when I got up in the morning. I packed up my gear and loaded the bike and was ready to head off when I was stopped and told that I wasn’t allowed to leave as the road was closed. No timeframe. They would assess it again in the afternoon. More empanadas and coke and cake. Finally, about 5:00pm, a muddy hilux arrived and said the road was pretty bad. But I saw the ranger who arrived chatting with another ranger who was waiting to leave as he was on his monthly break. If he was leaving then so was I. They advised me to stay another night. The rain we’d had, was unexpected, and unusually heavy but there was also rain forecast for the next day and I didn’t want to hang around for that. They agreed that I could go if I followed the guy out. He had a little two wheel drive car and I have an off road motorbike so I would be fine. And it’s only 20 kilometres. Ha.

The road was slippery with some big puddles. The guy in the car just ploughed through them. He then waited down the road a bit to see I was okay. He did this for a couple of kms and then I never saw him again. I was going too slow. I don’t have any photos because I was busy trying to keep my bike upright. There was about 10 kms of difficult riding in the middle. The rest was just hard. At one stage I had my front wheel crossed over and my back wheel deep in a puddle sliding sideways. I ended up having to drag the bike back into the puddle which was just boot deep and then ride out. After an hour and a half, I made it to the information centre on the main road. Muddy but I hadn’t dropped the bike. Apparently, the guy in the car went through an hour earlier and they were beginning to worry about me. They also said that he was a rally driver and said the road was great fun. Right.

Because of the road to the south being gravel and all the rain I had to head back north to Perito Moreno. A bit of rain helped wash some of the dirt off me and the bike. The only hotel I could find was the Americano Hotel ($80AUD). I was tired. And it was across the road from the Tazmania bakery? Funnily enough when I parked my bike in the garage I saw the bikes of the two American guys I’d met the previous day. We caught up for dinner. I just had a beer as I was full of empanadas and cake. They had also tried to go to the cave of hands, but the road was closed. Even the main road.  Actually the entire park was closed for a couple of days until things dried out. They were happy to hear firsthand that the roads were really bad and glad not be on them with their big heavy bikes. Next morning we had an early dismal breakfast together and then they headed off on the long sealed route over to Ruta 3 and on to Ushuaia. I needed to do a couple of things first before following them. I was also a bit slow as my body was aching from my 20km motocross ordeal. It was a nice pain though. Equal on both arms and both legs.

While I was packing a message came through on the Argentinean WhatsApp group asking if route 288 was sealed? I thought that number sounded familiar. Someone replied saying that it was two days ago and was a great road. I was in reception paying at the time and they had a big map on the wall. So I asked the guy if he knew the road? Which he did and said it was definitely all sealed. That was awesome as it meant I could take my initial route and save myself over 300kms of riding. I felt sorry for the Americans as they had already left. I also asked they guy if he knew where I could change some money as my hunting earlier in the morning had been a failure and I really needed some cash. He said he would change money and the rate was better than the bank so I changed $200US for 230,000 pesos. My morning was going well. I finished packing. Greased my chain. And I was off.

I was back travelling on Ruta 40 which is another of the famous South American highways. My destination was Gobernador Gregores. My goal was to be able to pronounce it by the time I got there. Only 365kms but a good distance for a late start. Pretty flat and boring and a bit of wind which knocked my fuel economy around and I was a bit panicked when I arrived at a well known petrol station and the pumps were all sealed off and looking derelict. A couple of Chilean bikers said I could ride with them as they had enough fuel and could help me out if I ran out. Fortunately a young guy appeared after a while and removed the garbage bags from the pumps and we were able to fill up.

I made it okay and found a place called Hostal Aldo ($50AUD) which had a few other bikers staying there. I struggled to find somewhere nice to eat and so it was empanadas and beer for dinner. Next day I took the 288 across to the 3 and then down to the border with Chile. Not much to see in this flat part of Patagonia. Lots of wind but you can’t see that either. But you can feel it. I made it to the border and decided to go through so I had a good start to the next day. To get to Ushuaia you need to cross back into Chile for a bit and then catch a ferry to Tierra del Fuego and then cross back into Argentina again to go the rest of the way. The border was fine and a found a little town with dirt roads and a nice warm little family run place to stay called the Hostal San Gregorio. Named after the town. It was starting to get colder as I was moving south quickly. 520kms today.

Not long after, a couple of Germans rocked up on bikes. We had a beer and dinner in the hostal restaurant and all up it was only $60AUD for my accom and restaurant tab. Nice homecooked meal too. That night I went for a wander around town and as I returned to the hostal the german guy was limping in. He had also gone for a walk and was attacked by a dog. He had a nasty bite on his leg. He also had a huge first aid kit, making me think he may have been a doctor. His mate was there to sort him out. I’d passed plenty of dogs and even some dog statues. Glad I walked in a different direction.

Next day was my big push to Ushuaia. About 480 kms. One more ferry and one more border crossing. It was only a short ride to the ferry and I was surprised to see that I would be crossing the Straits of Magellan. It was named after the Portuguese navigator Ferdinand Magellan who was the first European to discover it in 1520. Its 570kms long and only 2kms wide in some spots. Its an important shortcut between the Atlantic and the Pacific instead of Drakes Passage which goes around the treacherous Cape Horn or the Beagle Channel which is near Ushuaia. It has 23 lighthouses of which some are more than 100 years old. The Panama Canal (soon to be renamed the Trump Canal) took away most of the ships that used to go that way. Anyway, I thought it was a cool body of water to cross. Desolate and windy but with lots of ferries so no booking or hold ups.

It was cool being in Terra del Fuego as I knew the name but nothing about it. It’s basically just a big island at the bottom of South America which is shared between Chile and Argentina. Despite just being a line on a map you have to go through border crossings just like everywhere else. It was also getting pretty cold now and I was wearing 5 layers which was just enough. I felt sorry for the people who had to work at the border. It was summer!

The landscape was still pretty flat and boring. I’m guessing any trees would have blown away. But then about an hour or so out of Ushuaia I hit the tail end of the Andes and it was lovely. Winding road and trees and lakes and even a pass.

You come into town along the water and so you can see the city from several kilometres out. Finally, you come around the bend and you see the two big Ushuaia entry posts. I’d seen them hundreds of times but now it was for real. I wondered if I would get emotional, but I think I felt more a sense of relief that I had actually made it. There was a time when I thought I wouldn’t.

I’d booked into the Pacifico Apartments for Friday and Saturday night. They were $140AUD a night and only street parking for my bike. There wasn’t a lot available as it’s the middle of peak season and the city is the pickup and drop off  point for cruises to Antarctica. The apartment was nice. The weather was dull, overcast and windy. I was going to go out and have a nice meal, but it been a long day and I just fell asleep on top of the bed fully dressed and woke up after midnight. Next morning I went for a bit of a walk around town and then went to Honda to see if they could service my bike. Being a Saturday morning I didn’t hold out much hope. I eventually found the place despite google sending me to the wrong address. They couldn’t do it but the young guy there said if I bought the oil that he would do it at his house after 2:00pm.

That worked fine. I also asked him to adjust the chain which in retrospect was probably a financially bad idea. But I was able to watch/help and gained some great knowledge about my bike. We were able to go back to the Honda shop after hours as the boss was still there. I paid $240AUD for a chain and new sprockets which seemed okay. But it turned out they weren’t exactly the same and while they would have worked if I was stuck, it would have chewed out the rubber chain guide eventually. And he would have to drill bigger holes in the new sprocket to fit the bolts. I got him to put the old ones back on and just renew the chain. I can source some exact replacements when I get to Brazil which is where the bike is made. He charged me $200AUD which was probably cheaper than Honda. Another lesson on how expensive Argentina has become. And the bike got a really nice wash which was well deserved and needed.

The next morning I packed up my gear and wanted to ride the last 26kms of Ruta 3 to the end of the drivable part of the continent. I knew that it was in a national park but I wasn’t expecting a $50AUD entrance fee. Probably fair if you wanted spend the whole day there. Which I didn’t. I just wanted to ride to the end of the road, take the photo, and come back. I was so tempted just to ride in without paying. I chatted to a guy who worked there for a while and he eventually suggested that if I just got on my bike and rode off that no one would know I hadn’t paid. Nice guy, I took his advice. I was in and out within an hour. And heading north. My speedo was reading 24890kms. I’ve been riding for 6 months. And it was time to head north and see what adventures I can have on the way up.

KMS 24890