A Great Excuse For A Bike Ride...as if I needed one

A great night for a ride! At the last moment I found out that there was a car show and chicken barbecue at the Orleans County Marine Park not far home. So, Sharon and I jumped on the bike and headed to the show. There was a very nice turn out and some beautiful cars to boot. It was a beautiful evening to take a ride along the shore of Lake Ontario.

See more pictures here: http://picasaweb.google.com/TheBMWrider/CARSHOW

Part 3: Argentina By Bike

Great journeys: Argentina by bike
In the final instalment of his three-part adventure, Mike Carter travels through the Valley of the Butterflies towards the home of South America's most famous biker Che Guevara
Mike Carter
guardian.co.uk,
Thursday June 19, 2008

Pictures: http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/gallery/2008/jun/17/southamerica.roadtrips?picture=334985869


Gaucho country ... on the road in Argentina. Photograph: Julia Sanders/Mike Carter
The Argentine conscript border guards were as charmless a bunch of fellows as you'd expect to find dispatched to a deserted road on top of a freezing cold mountain. I imagine they are still there, which makes me feel better.
Shortly, we were plunging down again, every 100-metre drop bringing air more syrupy and rich; every degree of temperature raised bringing back the real prospect that one day I might be able to straighten my fingers again. I was breathing extra gulps just for the fun of it.
We pulled over at a cafe for coffee. Having coffee in Argentina after being in Chile should be the first thing one does, like the Pope kissing the ground at the foot of the aircraft steps. For coffee in Chile means a sachet of Nescafe and tepid water producing a lumpy gloop of extraordinary vileness. Great dogs, rubbish coffee.
In Argentina, it involves a loving process of alchemy with freshly crushed beans and warmed milk and an end product of such ambrosial ecstasy that you instinctively close your eyes as it slides down your throat and sigh loudly.
As in San Pedro de Atacama, things felt like a Paramount set. Gauchos tethered their horses to the hitching post and walked past us, ponchos and all, raising a finger to the rim of their cowboy hats, Cuban heels click-clacking on the ancient wood floor as hard as granite. Chevy and Dodge pickups circa 1930 filled up at the single pump, its dials whirring round.
We spent the next few days riding through north-west Argentina. First down intestinal tracts of roads – the kind of roads that fill bikers' winter dreams – that wound their way around bald, crumpled hills that changed colour at every bend – green, pink, yellow, even aquamarine – like your TV being on the blink. Then along arid valleys of sandstone, with fluted columns like giant organ pipes and eroded rocks forming fantastical sculptures.
We rode along the Valley of the Butterflies, millions of them forming fluttering clouds that we passed through, like riding in a kaleidoscope.
Down from the mountains, we hit the plains. Mile after mile of vineyards, then brilliant yellow tobacco crops, their leaves drying on the walls of the pueblos we passed through, each with a whitewashed church and a dusty football pitch, the twin obsessions of Argentina. In the middle of nowhere, we passed processions of devotees, walking who knows where, carrying aloft the Virgin Mary. And always the waving and the smiling. Surely, if there was a country to steal your heart, this was it.

Part 2: Great journeys: motorbike mayhem in the Andes

This is a very interesting, three part series of articles, that I discovered while reading my “Google Alerts” that I receive every day via eMail. A group of British riders on “Holiday” riding across northern Chile and Argentina.

In part 2: Mike Carter hits the great gringo trail into the High Andes

Pictures: http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/gallery/2008/jun/17/southamerica.roadtrips?picture=334985869

Mike Carter on a motorbike journey across South America. Photograph: Julia Sanders
We flew across the Chilean Alto Plano until, like the world had been bleached, there lay ahead of us nothing but white. We hit the salt flats, riding fast, which felt very wrong, as our senses looked at the big slab of white and told us it had to be slippery, treacherous, no place for a motorcycle. But the tyres bit and gripped as sure as on concrete, and the crust crunched under us. Flamingos looked on.
We passed through the Valley of the Moon as the light faded and the sun went through its valedictions, washing the rocks vermilion then gold then ochre. In the distance, a string of cartoon volcanoes, perfect calderas, and beyond, like a chimera, the High Andes, the brilliant white bonnets fading to grey.
We rolled into San Pedro de Atacama, kicking up a trail of dust. San Pedro was once a major staging post for the great cattle drives of yore, but is now a staging post on the great gringo trail. It's the Dodge City of one's imagination, a Paramount backlot come to life, albeit with internet cafes and poncho shops. Upon entering a door I was surprised to find that there was actually a restaurant beyond, and not just wooden joists holding up the walls.
We ordered some food. Tamales and llama steaks and beer that came in litre bottles. I was loving South America. In the middle of the room was an open fire. Above it a large circular hole in the ceiling, through which we gazed at the stars like diamonds. I asked the waiter what happened when it rained. It doesn't, he said.
I spoke to Dave, who was on the trip with his wife, Liz. Dave worked in a Lincolnshire warehouse and had been saving for five years for the trip. It had been a fantastic introduction to riding in South America, he said, what with Globebusters taking care of shipping the bikes and visas, and next time he thinks he might be confident enough to go it alone. Mike, who was retired, had taken a few trips like this and loved the camaraderie and support. Similarly Resh, formerly known as The Raggedy One, who ran a care home for the elderly. Paul, from Coventry, worked for BT. His nickname was Gargoyle, he said. I asked him why and he stuck out his chin and held the pose. He looked a bit like a gargoyle.
Most on the trip are Bambis – Born Again Mid-Life Bikers – returning to two wheels in middle age when family constraints and budgets allow.
Very early the next morning, we headed off to see the El Tatio geysers. They pop their boiling spumes at exactly the moment the sun rises over the mountains, as surely as someone dropping Mentos into Diet Coke bottles, the physics of which was explained by our guide, but which I didn't fully take in owing to the fact that it was minus 50 and my brain had frozen.
Then we were off to Argentina. Climbing slowly at first, more llama, then some weird-looking rabbits the size of wallabies, and then some things that looked like alpaca but with a certain skittishness. As if they might jump out in front of you and get you repatriated before you could say vicuña. Vicuñas are not a good thing, as I had learnt on day one. I gave them a wide berth.
Still climbing. Then suddenly there was nothing. No scrub, no cactus, no vicuñas, blessed be to God. Just an endless plain with the High Andes cradling and looming over it, like a proscenium arch. My ears popped. The motorbike's console flashed alarmingly. Minus two. Minus four. Minus six. That's the ground temperature. At 80 mph on a motorcycle it's more like minus 30. I lifted my visor to squeeze my nose. My gloves almost fused to it. I had my heated grips on, but I could have been clutching vials of magma and still I wouldn't have felt them.
Still, it could have been worse. At least the asphyxiation-by-helmet I was suffering as we went over the 4,600-metre Paso de Jama took my mind off the cold. To fight off oedemas and to keep myself from slipping into a hypothermic coma, I repeated my mantra: "This is not a holiday it's an adventure; this is not a holiday…"
The border with Argentina lay somewhere up ahead. I just hoped that they had the space blankets ready.
Tomorrow: Into the Valley of the Butterflies
Getting there
Globebusters' High Andes trip lasts for five weeks and costs £5,895pp. The price includes all shipping rates and accommodation. The next High Andes trip runs from 21 April to 25 May 2010. For details of this and other Globebusters guided expeditions, including their 135-day Alaska to Patagonia trip and North and West Africa, see globebusters.com; 08452 304015

Part 1: Great journeys: motorbike mayhem in the Andes

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,

A very sudden end to Eric Cleaveland's trip

Due to personal family matters, Eric has ended his journey from Ushaia, Argentina to Deadhorse, Alaska just short of his goal. Read what Eric has to say here.

Americade

Sharon and I left for the Adirondacks and Americade in Lake George on Thursday morning. The ride was great, as the weather cooperated all the way. On Thursday night though, the weather got even with us, as it rained, cancel that, POURED all night long until 11:00 in the morning on Friday. Friday was overcast, but at least it didn't rain and we spent much of the day visiting the many vendor displays at the two locations.

One of the vendors that I wanted to talk to was Garmin. I recently had a problem with the Garmin Zuno 550 GPS that I bought THREE YEARS AGO. One of the buttons on the unit has come out and I've had to put it back in with Silicone to keep from loosing it. Well, the short story is, I spoke with the Garmin representative and explained my dilemma, and he quickly gave me his business card and told me to email him and he would see to it that I received a NEW Zumo 550! Now that's what I call customer service! I wish they would have done that when I had the problem with the brand new Zumo cradle, in South America, but that's ancient history. Way to go Garmin! Thank you.

Back to the trip. Late Friday afternoon, we went for a ride and wound up in the quaint town of Poultney, Vermont for dinner. A local gentleman directed us to a local eatery called Perry's for a good meal. After a nice meal we headed back to the campsite which was near Schroon Lake, NY about twenty minutes north of Lake George.

The following day, Saturday, dawned bright and sunny so we planned to take a ride to the new Adirondack Nature Museum in Tupper Lake and then find a motel. The Nature Museum was worth seeing once, but it did have some very nice large fish displays and the location of the museum was very nice. After the museum we headed to Long Lake and found a motel. The Black Flies where still out in that area and Sharon got eaten alive. Me, not one bite!

Sunday was another great day for riding which made the trip home very enjoyable.

You can see more pictures here.

Now lets talk about the Town of Lake George, N.Y.

This is a warning to future goers to Americade.

The town of Lake George, New York hosts the Americade Motorcycle Rally each year, and the town of Lake George takes in somewhere in the neighborhood of 40 Million dollars (an estimate from a volunteer of Americade) from the people who participate in the event. People spend their money in Motels, Restaurants, Gas Stations, Stores, Campgrounds, Super Markets and many other places in Lake George, I'm sure. Still, the town has come up with another way to suck money from people. During Americade there are thousands of motorcycles in the town and many of them park side by side on the main street, as far as the eye can see. Along the main street, there are parking meters. In each parking meter space there are usually five or six motorcycles parked side by side. Now, the Town of Lake George has seen fit to hand out parking tickets to every motorcycle that does not display a "Pre Payed Parking Sticker". No Warning, No Signs announcing you need to feed the meters during an event as big as Americade. When you come into the town during Americade you see thousands of bikes parked along the curb and anyone would assume that you don't need to pay the Quater for Fifteen minutes, but that's not the case. You would think that the Town of Lake George would allow free parking for the bikers that hand over some $40,000,000 , but it looks to me that the Town of Lake George is too greedy to do that.

Welcome To ALASKA

It's been a long ride, about 17,000 miles to be exact, but....Eric is in Alaska!!!!!

Bear with me on this one! YOU MUST READ THIS STORY!!

This comes from Eric Cleaveland's blog. I was so moved by the ending ,that I had to let you read it here. What a GREAT story!

Eric writes:

"Today was a great day of wildlife viewing. It started with a fairly cooperative bull Elk right on the side of the road to Lake Louise. However, when the photographer leaves the flash card in the card reader (tucked safely away in his luggage) it makes for difficult picture taking. Let’s blame it on the TOTAL lack of coffee at that point in the morning. Later in the day I saw three Moose. First was the full “Bullwinkle” . Huge, perfect rack, and not real enamored with the motorbike. He CHARGED into the woods as I approached, quite impressive! A little later I passed two cows just munching away about 20 meters off the road. They seemed totally absorbed in just chewing on the grass.

The total Bear count was 10 today. All Black Bears, and all singles except of #s 8 & 9. But it’s the first three that I’d like to tell you about;

Bear #1 was rooting around on the roadside and I saw him from a long ways away. I coasted fairly close to him and got the pictures with the helmet on, still on the bike.

Bear #2 was scampering across the highway being chased by 3 teenage boys! I only hope that once in the woods he turned on them and munched at least one for breakfast. Remember, I’m the guy that had a “Support the Right to Arm Bears” bumper sticker on his truck. I bought it in Churchill, Manitoba after one of my two trips there to photograph Polar Bears.

Bear #3 was also along the roadside, but between the eastbound shoulder and the woods. I stopped my bike on the westbound side and walked across the road to watch and photograph. After putting on my helmet and gloves I looked over my shoulder before pulling back on to the highway. Heading my way was a lone bicyclist. Figuring that at the very least he might want a warning I did a quick U-turn and rode to him. He was most appreciative of my help, and accepted my offer to ride between him and the bear. The bear could care less about us as we passed, I don’t think that he even lifted his head. The young man and I chatted as we slowly rode west. He was from Quebec and had been riding for 5 days. He was enjoying his trip immensely, but mentioned that he was about to return home as he was about out of money. Safely past the bear we wished each other well and I took off towards Jasper. But I couldn’t stop thinking about my new friend and his financial dilemma. And then I had one of those all too infrequent moments of clarity.

Those of you that have been following my progress may remember a chance meeting I had with a group of motorcyclists from Cali, Colombia. We met at a gas station, they were heading home (south), I was on my way to Bogota’ (north). After some group picture taking and hand shaking they handed me almost 100 U$D (in Colombian Pesos). To refuse their generosity would have been very insulting, so I thanked them profusely and promised them that I’d put it to good use.

See where this is going?

Grinning from ear to ear I pulled my bike back on to the shoulder and counted out the Canadian equivalent of my gift from my Columbian friends. Another U-turn and I was headed east, another U-turn and I was in front of my new cyclist friend.

“I have something for you; it’s a gift from some friends you’ll never know in Colombia. Colombia, the country. They gave it to me to give to you, so don’t try to refuse it. Hopefully this will buy you few more PowerBars and a few more nights camping. Don’t thank me; I’m just a convenient courier. Thank the folks in Colombia, and thank the bear."

Picture is property of Eric Cleaveland

Looks like Eric likes Canada

Eric has made his way into British Columbia, Canada and seems to be enjoying it up there. It's amazing how far Eric has ridden when you look back to the begining of his trip. Go here to read more.

Picture is property of Eric Cleaveland

Back to Chile

With the latest spike in the price of oil, and with NO end in sight to the price hikes, I've decided to purchase my airfare for my next trip to Chile now while it is still somewhat affordable. With the price of airfare rising by the day, I will be staying in Chile for a longer period of time (two months) to make the elevated price worth it. The plan on my last trip, in February, was to explore the possibility of going to Ushuaia, Argentina (The End Of The Earth) next year by riding some of the desolate places in Argentina to get a feel for what it would take to make the trip to the southern tip of South America alone. I knew it would take more time than the month that I normally spend in Chile, so by going for a longer period of time it will be to my advantage. One advantage I will have in preparing for such a trip is Eric Cleaveland, a friend of mine, who is riding right now from the Southern tip of South America (Ushuaia) to the northern most point in Alaska. Eric is in Canada at the moment, and when Eric returns I will pick his brain for advice on riding in that part of the world. I know that riding in that part of the world is not easy, but if you've been following Eric's trip, you'll see that the trip will be well worth it

In preparation for this trip, one piece of equipment that will be accompanying me on my adventure to the "End of the Earth" will be the "SPOT Satellite Personal Tracker". This is a small GPS device that can save your life should you encounter a problem in a desolate part of the world where there is no other means of communication. This unit is capable of alerting rescue authorities in the event you need help, or loved ones to let them know you are alright. Go here to watch the videos and learn more about it: http://www.findmespot.com/home.aspx It's really quite a fantastic little unit.

This is Americade Week! in Lake George, N.Y.

"The Worlds Largest Touring Rally"

This is the week that many motorcycle enthusiasts wait for all year. The long awaited Americade Motorcycle Rally in Lake George, New York. Held each year in one of the most beautiful surroundings you could ask for, the Adirondacks Mountains of northern New York State. It is one of the largest rallies in the country. If you've never been to this event, you must go! Motorcycles of all types as far as the eye can see, lining the streets of the beautiful town of Lake George, right on the edge of the lake by the same name. Sharon and I are planning to hitch up the motorcycle camper to the Beemer, and head up there later in the week, so I will be posting pictures and commentary of our trip.

The weather this week threatens to be perfect for a nice ride up into the Adirondacks. So what are you waiting for? Click on the Americade logo above, or visit the web site HERE.

Eric is in the Canadian Rockies

See more here:

http://www.motoamericas.blogspot.com/

Picture is property of Eric Cleaveland

Beautiful Yellowstone

Eric Cleaveland has been spotted in Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. After some service to his bike he is heading toward Glacier National Park, where he will spend the night before continuing into Canada and points north. Read the details here.

Pictures are property of Eric Cleaveland