This is a very interesting series of articles that I came across while reading my "Google Alerts". A group of British riders on "Holiday" riding across northern Chile and Argentina.
Picture Gallery Here: http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/gallery/2008/jun/17/southamerica.roadtrips?picture=334985869
Part 1
Tuesday June 17 2008
Great journeys: motorbike mayhem in the Andes
In the first part of his three-part adventure, Mike Carter rides with the condors across the Chilean desert.See images of Mike's trip in our gallery
Mike Carter
guardian.co.uk,
Article history
Long way down ... Mike Carter takes in the spectacular views of the Valley of the Moon in Chile from a precarious vantage point. Photograph: Julia Sanders
I watched them ride along the corniche, headlights blazing through the swirling dust and the fading light. I started counting. I'd been alone in Arica, an out-of-season beach town on the Chile/Peru border, for over two days. Counting motorcycles felt like great excitement, all things considered.
There should have been 10. There were just eight. By the time I'd left the beach and walked back into the hotel lobby, the riders, caked in grime and sweat, were presenting their passports to reception in the careworn manner befitting those who'd been on the road three weeks.
"Where are the other two?" I asked a man.
He looked tired. "Crashed," replied Brian, for that was his name. "In Bolivia. One hit a police barrier. Almost decapitated. Ducked just in time, but smashed his sternum and two vertebrae. The other one hit a vicuña. Broke his shoulder and his arm. Both repatriated."
Decapitated. Repatriated. Now there's a couple of words.
"What's a vicuña?" I asked. It was an odd question, really, but the first thing that came out.
"A kind of alpaca," he replied. "Very skittish. Watch out for them."
"What room you in, Ribby?" said another man. His riding suit was torn to shreds, like somebody who'd been in a comedy explosion in a fireworks factory.
"Ribby?" I said.
"Oh, hit some sand. Fell off. Broke two ribs. But I've got good painkillers," said Brian/Ribby.
"And you?" I asked the raggedy one.
"Lost it. First day in Argentina," he said. "One minute I was riding along at 80mph, the next I was on the Tarmac. "
Great. I confess I'd been a tad nervous about joining my first motorcycle expedition in South America, planning to stay with them as far as Cordoba, Argentina. But now, surrounded by a cast of extras from Casualty, I was, to use the technical term, bricking it. Suddenly an out-of-season beach resort in northern Chile seemed like a good place to put down some roots.
Kevin Saunders walked in. Full-beam smile. Kevin owns Globebusters, the company that runs the tours. I'd first met him a couple of years ago when he taught me to ride at his training school in Wales.
"Sounds like quite a holiday so far," I said to him.
"It's not a holiday, Mike, it's an adventure," he replied.No shit, Kev.
The next morning, we set off. I was riding Kevin's wife's bike. She took up the pillion seat behind Kev.
The group fell into their established riding pattern. I followed at the back, scouring the landscape, like Eagle-eyed Action Man, for vicuña. Of course, I had no idea what a vicuña looked like.
Wednesday June 18 2008
Great journeys: From Chile to Argentina by bike
Mike Carter hits the great gringo trail into the High Andes
Mike Carter
guardian.co.uk,
Great journeys: motorbike mayhem in the Andes
In the first part of his three-part adventure, Mike Carter rides with the condors across the Chilean desert.See images of Mike's trip in our gallery
Mike Carter
guardian.co.uk,
Article history
Long way down ... Mike Carter takes in the spectacular views of the Valley of the Moon in Chile from a precarious vantage point. Photograph: Julia Sanders
I watched them ride along the corniche, headlights blazing through the swirling dust and the fading light. I started counting. I'd been alone in Arica, an out-of-season beach town on the Chile/Peru border, for over two days. Counting motorcycles felt like great excitement, all things considered.
There should have been 10. There were just eight. By the time I'd left the beach and walked back into the hotel lobby, the riders, caked in grime and sweat, were presenting their passports to reception in the careworn manner befitting those who'd been on the road three weeks.
"Where are the other two?" I asked a man.
He looked tired. "Crashed," replied Brian, for that was his name. "In Bolivia. One hit a police barrier. Almost decapitated. Ducked just in time, but smashed his sternum and two vertebrae. The other one hit a vicuña. Broke his shoulder and his arm. Both repatriated."
Decapitated. Repatriated. Now there's a couple of words.
"What's a vicuña?" I asked. It was an odd question, really, but the first thing that came out.
"A kind of alpaca," he replied. "Very skittish. Watch out for them."
"What room you in, Ribby?" said another man. His riding suit was torn to shreds, like somebody who'd been in a comedy explosion in a fireworks factory.
"Ribby?" I said.
"Oh, hit some sand. Fell off. Broke two ribs. But I've got good painkillers," said Brian/Ribby.
"And you?" I asked the raggedy one.
"Lost it. First day in Argentina," he said. "One minute I was riding along at 80mph, the next I was on the Tarmac. "
Great. I confess I'd been a tad nervous about joining my first motorcycle expedition in South America, planning to stay with them as far as Cordoba, Argentina. But now, surrounded by a cast of extras from Casualty, I was, to use the technical term, bricking it. Suddenly an out-of-season beach resort in northern Chile seemed like a good place to put down some roots.
Kevin Saunders walked in. Full-beam smile. Kevin owns Globebusters, the company that runs the tours. I'd first met him a couple of years ago when he taught me to ride at his training school in Wales.
"Sounds like quite a holiday so far," I said to him.
"It's not a holiday, Mike, it's an adventure," he replied.No shit, Kev.
The next morning, we set off. I was riding Kevin's wife's bike. She took up the pillion seat behind Kev.
The group fell into their established riding pattern. I followed at the back, scouring the landscape, like Eagle-eyed Action Man, for vicuña. Of course, I had no idea what a vicuña looked like.
Wednesday June 18 2008
Great journeys: From Chile to Argentina by bike
Mike Carter hits the great gringo trail into the High Andes
Mike Carter
guardian.co.uk,
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