http:\/\/www.globebusters.com\/<\/a>)
\nbefore coming to South America. They were on route to Ushuaia after
\nstarting in Vancouver, a trip not so different of my own. We parted
\npromising to meet again in Alaska. <\/p>\n El Charletèn is a pretty, almost Alpine
\nlooking town sitting in the shadow of Mt Fitzroy, a 3,400 metre peak of
\ngranite dominating the skyline. I was only stopping for lunch but I
\nbumped into Mad Marco from Germany, who was currently stuck in
\nCharltèn as the forks on his Honda Africa Twin had
\npermanently destroyed themselves. <\/p>\n
![\"Mt](\"https:\/\/globetrotters.co.uk\/newsletter\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/pictures\/2005-10-enews-image010.jpg\")
That afternoon I headed for
\nTres Largos which, according to the map, would be a seemingly sensible
\nplace to stop for the night. I pulled into the gas station there at
\nabout 4.30 and met a group of Germans heading south. Now, for some
\nreason I’m growing weary of travelling Germans. This a completely
\nunreasonable and irrational assumption I know, but after several
\ncomments (all negative) about the preparation and condition of my bike
\n(for example “your chain sprockets are about to
\nexpire” and “why is your seat set so
\nlow?” and “ugh, why are you using that GPS
\nunit?”) I mentioned that I was going to look for somewhere to
\nstay the night in Tres Largos. <\/p>\n
I grant them that Tres Largos was little more than a
\ngas station in the middle of a rock desert, but I wasn’t
\nexpecting the vehement “NEIN! There is NOTHING in Tres
\nLargos! You MUST carry on and stay where we stayed last
\nnight” (an estancia some 100 miles further on). I should have
\ntaken note that by 4.30pm, they were in the same location as I was
\nexpected to be by that evening. That alone should have warned me of the
\ncondition of the upcoming stretch of road. <\/p>\n
On top of this, Tres Largos represented the last
\nopportunity for petrol until Bajo Caracoles, some 230 miles north. This
\nis at the absolute maximum of the Beemer’s tank range so I
\nfilled my spare 10 litre container in preparation. Against my better
\njudgement and contrary to how I felt physically after a full
\ndays’ riding, I set out for the Estancia Angusteria. Within
\n50 miles I had crashed severely. <\/p>\n
Now on dirt tracks it’s a common technique to
\napply speed to even out the inconsistent surface. At slow speeds the
\nbike becomes nervous, twitchy and more difficult to control – a
\ncondition that gets steadily worse from the feedback from an
\nincreasingly nervous rider as he \/ she grips the controls more tightly.
\nThis “application of speed” approach is good for 99
\ntimes out of 100, but of course, it’s the 1 time out of 100
\nthat will bite you, and at 60 mph accidents will happen quickly and
\nmost likely hurt more. <\/p>\n
Up to this point of the trip I had been really enjoying
\nthe dirt tracks and that afternoon I was travelling at about 50 to 60
\nmph. In reality this was about 10-20 mph too fast for the road
\nconditions (coupled with my weary condition.) The track had
\ndeteriorated and I’d failed to reduce my speed. This particular stretch
\nwas comprised of fist-sized rocks that had accumulated into deep ruts
\nby the heavy trucks that use this route. <\/p>\n
I always find it interesting that accidents and crashes
\ntake an infinitesimally small amount of time for you to pass beyond the
\npoint of no return (otherwise you’d react and there would be no
\naccident, right?). However, once you’re past that point everything
\nslows down. My memory of what led up to the accident is therefore
\nslight, I suspect that the front wheel tried to rise up out of the rut,
\nprobably following a wheel track from a previous vehicle that had
\nchanged lane. The back wheel probably declined to follow this example
\nand stayed in the rut, the bike fish-tailed violently and I failed to
\ncorrect it (even if I could). Minor fish-tailing happens all the time,
\nand it’s part of the enjoyment of riding dirt-tracks that they usually
\ncome back, but I distinctly remember thinking “oh shit! This
\nones not coming back… the bike swapped sides a couple of
\ntimes (known as a tank slapper as the bars are violently swapped from
\nside to side). I was then unceremoniously spat off the top of the bike,
\nover the bars, as the front wheel dug into the track and the bike
\nflipped over frontward. <\/p>\n
That’s where things really slowed down.
\nFlying through the air I knew that at this speed, this would be a
\nsevere crash and things were about to get hurt. I also remember
\nconsidering the fact that I could not afford to break anything (i.e.
\nleg, arm or neck) as I was a long way from anywhere and this was not a
\nbusy road. <\/p>\n
The initial impact was HARD!!! but I realized that I
\nhad survived it and I tucked everything in as best I could…
\nfar, so good. The next thing to enter my head, and I remember it
\nvividly, was “well, the only thing that can kill me now is
\nthe bike landing on top of me!” So as I was still rolling I
\nwas looking back at the bike as it nosedived into the track, and
\nskidded to a stop about 20 feet short of me. <\/p>\n
There must be a common 10-second rule, as the first
\nthing you want to do after an accident is leap straight to your feet.
\nI’ve watched track racers try to stand up while they are
\nstill rolling at 20 mph (!) and I did the same. Patting myself down I
\ncould hardly believe that I was in one-piece. I had taken the initial
\nimpact on my shoulder and hip, both which were talking to me in
\nprotest, but everything else was fine. RELIEF! <\/p>\n
Looking back down the road the same could not be said
\nof the bike. I regret I did not have the presence of mind to take
\npictures (forgive me!) but I saw a sorry sight of the bike lying on the
\ngravel with all the luggage spread down the trail for about 30 metres.
\nTime to take off the gloves, the crash helmet, the back pack and the
\njacket and just take a moment or two – this was obviously
\ngoing to take a little time to fix. <\/p>\n
From an initial appraisal, the worst issue seemed to be
\nthe aluminium Touratech panniers. Both had been stripped from the bike
\nand the left hand box had completely burst – what was left was a
\nmangled mess. The left-hand side of the handle bars were bent down and
\nthe foot-peg bent under. The headlight had rattled loose in the
\nfairing, the pannier frame was badly bent and was fouling the chain
\nguard, the mirrors were stripped off and the left-hand indicator
\nbroken. <\/p>\n
Slowly I began to reassemble the components. I pulled
\nthe handlebars back into shape by bracing my foot against the engine
\nguard. Then, by grabbing several boulders from the side of the road to
\nuse as a hammer and anvil, I began to bash things back into some sort
\nof shape – starting with the pannier frame. It took 2 exhausting hours
\nbefore I was fit again to move. The left-hand pannier box was held
\ntogether by tape and a strap. In that time, only 4 vehicles passed
\nreminding me how lucky I had been not to be hurt myself. <\/p>\n
I still had 50 miles to the Estancia that the Germans
\nwere so keen about, it would take me a further 2 hours to cover this
\ndistance and the road got much worse both with the failing light of
\ndusk and my general feeling of depression following the crash. <\/p>\n
I found the Estancia almost by luck, it was placed 10
\nmiles off of the main road, signposted by a small, unlit sign. I was
\ngreeted warmly and enthusiastically and shown a modest room and told
\nthat if I wanted food, a cordeo (barbequed lamb) was just being served
\noutside. I merely dumped my bags and followed him outside, still
\nwearing my dusty riding gear. I found a small gathering of the family
\naccompanied with 3 Argentine documentary makers, interviewing the rural
\nlocals about how the world has changed for them. <\/p>\n
It was a charming meal – little understood by
\nme as my Spanish is still not good enough, but I enjoyed the food, and
\nshared the last of my malt whisky. It felt like a good way to finish
\nthe day. The film crew interviewed me and seemed interested how a lone
\nEnglishman on a motorcycle could have stumbled on this place. <\/p>\n
I awoke incredibly stiffly. The shoulder and the hip
\nscreaming in recognition of what they had gone through the previous
\nday. A couple of Ibuprofen and some strong, hot coffee saw me straight
\nand I was back on the road (filmed as I left). <\/p>\n
After I re-crossed the border with Chile, the next few
\ndays were spent in first Cochrane and then Cohyique. In the latter I
\nfound a local mechanic to re-shape the pannier boxes into approximate
\nshape – and the results were remarkable. So back onto the
\nCarratera Austral (the spindly dirt-track road built on the
\ninstructions of General Augustine Pinochet) and an observation that the
\nChileans take far better care of their dirt-roads than the Argentines.
\nI stopped for the night at the luxurious fishing lodge at El Parque,
\njust north of Purto Puriguapi, and a welcome evening of relaxation
\nafter a tough few days. <\/p>\n
The next day would get me to Chaitèn, the
\nstepping off point to the Isla Grande de Chiloè. To continue
\nnorth, most tourists and travellers head back into Argentina and drive
\nnorth from San Carlos de Bariloche. I, however, have always wanted to
\nvisit Chiloè so I was excited to leave the main tourist
\nroute. The ferry was to leave at 9am so dutifully I was sitting on the
\nferry embarkation slipway at 8.45am the following morning. I was
\nseemingly the only person not to know that the ferry NEVER, EVER leaves
\non time. After 1 hour, news filtered that it would be 12 noon, at
\nleast, before the ferry arrived. Of more concern was the phase
\n“well, if not 12 noon, it will definitely be today at
\nleast”. I decided to cut loose and ride out to the end of the
\nroad, some 40 miles away, at Caleta Gonzalo. The ride was pretty and
\nthe coffee from the café at the end of the road made the
\ntrip worthy. I later found out that this was part of Doug Tompkins (the
\nUS billionaire and philanthropist) vast nature reserve. <\/p>\n
After racing back to catch the ferry perhaps
\npredictably an empty slip-way welcomed me. I took encouragement from
\nthe fact that many locals were now attending – perhaps signifying
\npromise. The ferry eventually arrived at 2pm, and as a consequence we
\narrived in Castro, the large port town in the middle of
\nChiloè, at 9.30pm. For a change, I was let off first
\n(motorbikes are usually last) so I had a head start to finding a hotel
\n(boy, the beer tasted GOOOOD!) <\/p>\n
![\"Typical](\"https:\/\/globetrotters.co.uk\/newsletter\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/pictures\/2005-10-enews-image011.jpg\")
<\/div>\n
I’ve decided to get to Santiago quickly and
\nto get the bike fixed up and better prepared for the challenge of the
\nAtacama Desert and the altitude and isolation of Bolivia. I’m
\ncurrently in Tecumo, about 400 miles south of Santiago and late
\nyesterday afternoon, having found suitable replacements, I got the
\ntyres replaced. Santiago is just 1 days ride from here and it’s smooth
\ntarmac all the way. Perhaps, after the last few weeks of intensely
\nrough tracks and the crash on Ruta 40 this is all the bike (and I) are
\nfit for at the moment. <\/p>\n
If you want to know more about Greg’s
\ntravels, visit his website at: http:\/\/www.unbeatentrack.com\/<\/a>\n <\/p>\n
\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Trip duration: 40 days Trip miles to date: 5,160 Miles since last update: 2,080 It’s been an eventful few days since the last update. I’ve travelled over 2,000 miles, crossed…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","css_class_manager_body_classes":"","css_class_manager_use_in_post_loop":false},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2101","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-main-article"],"yoast_head":"\n
Greg McKenzie’s Motorbike Travels On Ruta 40 in Argentina – and survives a bad crash - eNewsletter<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/globetrotters.co.uk\/newsletter\/greg-mckenzies-motorbiketravels-on-ruta-40-in-argentina-and-survives-a-bad-crash.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Greg McKenzie’s Motorbike Travels On Ruta 40 in Argentina – and survives a bad crash - eNewsletter\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Trip duration: 40 days Trip miles to date: 5,160 Miles since last update: 2,080 It’s been an eventful few days since the last update. 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![\"Greg](\"https:\/\/globetrotters.co.uk\/newsletter\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/pictures\/2005-10-enews-image008.jpg\")
It’s been an eventful few days since![\"Moreno](\"https:\/\/globetrotters.co.uk\/newsletter\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/2\/pictures\/2005-10-enews-image009.jpg\")
<\/p>\n