March 5, 1998 Punta Arenas, Chile - {Hotel Padiseo} R100GS 27671 R80G/S 38078 The drive from Puerto Natales to Punta Arenas is 250km, or 150 miles of almost all paved road. However with construction going on, it seemed that a quarter of the drive was on gravel detours. The construction workers encouraged us to drive on the blockaded pavement since we were riding on motorcycles and could pass easily enough by the road blocks, to where it was safer riding. Sharon who has a strong dislike for gravel was glad of this. Despite wearing T-shirt, fleece, electric jacket, leather jacket and PVC rain jacket I was still cool. Sharon was similarly dressed. Turning on the electric jacket made the trip pretty comfortable, and allowed us to potentially travel the whole distance without stopping. Otherwise, I think we would have had to make several coffee breaks. The electric hand grips were also turned on high, however neither of us have winter gloves, and so while the underside of our hands stay warm, the upper outer portion is a bit cool. We crossed mostly flat vast plains covered in wild grass shrub, sheep and some cows. I'm sure this area looks like a white snow desert most of the year. We arrived in Punta Arenas (Sandy Point), and with little effort, we found the Hotel Paradiseo. We ended up in one of their nicer rooms for 6500 Pesos ($14) per person. Our nice new clean room came with cable TV including CNN, HBO, Cinamax, and several other major network channels with Spanish programming. Having been news starved, and English movie starved, this TV proved to be a time suck. Through CNN, I caught some tidbit about Puerto Rico being put to vote by the US congress on becoming the 51st state. However I didn't get the full story. Something about Opra Winfrey going to court defending herself against Texan beef ranchers. March 6, 1998 Punta Arenas, Chile - {Hotel Padiseo} We shopped in the free zone looking for winter clothes to suite the cool climate we are now in. We bought some winter gloves, a new long sleeve winter shirt, turtle necks, thermal socks, sweatshirts. I bought Bic challenged Sharon a Zippo lighter for her upcoming birthday. Sharon bought me a large bladed Swiss army knife that I had been interested in since Central America. The only suitable long underwear pants we saw sold for $30, and so held off hoping for something a little more reasonably priced. March 7, 1998 Punta Arenas, Chile - {Hotel Padiseo} Notes: Many of the houses around here have steep roofs likely to keep the snow accumulation down and are made out of wood. Boats passing by are painted in bright red as is the fashion for Antarctic boats for maximum visibility. The landscape consists of vast plains of scrub bushes and tough grass that the wind blows over. We visited the cemetery which was different than any we had seen before. People are buried above ground encased in tombs. Some families would have tombs that held up to 6 with triple decker bunk beds on each side. The more modern, and likely lower cost burial chambers were located along the outside cemetery wall where they would stack people in cement encased areas with a plaque, as high as ~10 bodies. It was like a high rise condominium cemetery. Many of the older tombs around and before the turn of the century were of European descent including several English. We visited the Penguin rookery. Just up the main road from Punta Arenas about 30km, and then down a dirt road for another 30km is a Magellan penguin colony. Sharon had no interest in taking the motorcycle there. The temperature was in the low fifties, overcast, very windy with an occasional sprinkle of rain. I don't understand... We took the tour bus that picked us up in front of our hotel. It was warm, dry, and out of the wind. The bus drove us there, and gave us an 1:45 minutes to explore. The penguin colony is situated in a bay area just on shore in grassy flat land. The penguins dig holes into the ground, tall and deep enough such that several can lay on there bellies under ground and be protected from the cold. The ranger at the entrance had told us that we're probably among the last to see them before they migrate North due to the early winter which seems to be setting in. Usually their season here lasts another month. We saw penguins coming up from the beach. They waddle together in groups, often single file. They seem to be more comfortable in groups. The ground was covered in places with penguin feathers likely from baby penguins molting. Several of the babies were as big as their parents. The only thing distinguishing them from their parents being their lighter color, and some tufts of baby fuzz feathers still on their body. Many penguins stood in pairs and would groom themselves. We saw some dirt flying out of one hole as the penguin was obviously making his burrow a little larger. The entire penguin colony was silent. They didn't seem to make any noise. That is until we got close to some penguins that seemed completely at ease with us standing three feet away. He was so at ease that he proceeded to break the silence by breaking wind, and squirting a little guano where he stood. In addition to the penguins, we saw a few rhea, or nandu as they are called in Chile. They are a slightly smaller version of African ostrich that roam wild in Patagonia, We saw several foxes that hung out by the parking lot. They were not afraid of people, and seemed to expect food handouts from tourists. March 8, 1998 San Sebatian, Chile - {Hotel La Frontera} R100GS 27821 R80G/S 38228 We caught the one ferry of the day to the island of Tierra del Fuego which crosses the straights of Magellan. It leaves from Punta Arenas and arrives two hours later at Porvenir. The boat left at 9:30, and arrived on the other side of the Magellan straights at 11:30. The water was fairly calm. However the wind occasionally stirred up the waves and the boat rocked. During the last half hour the R100GS tipped, falling against the side of the boat where the right pannier supported it. I couldn't sufficiently strap the motorcycles down since there were no lashing points on the floor, only against the wall. We bundled up, and drove from Porvenir to San Sebatian. This route was good dirt gravel road almost the whole way. The road runs West to East through yellow mostly flat grass plains. To the South we could see the calm waters of Inutil bay which connects with the straights of Magellan. We had about a 50km/h (30mph) tail wind almost the whole way. Since we were driving down this dirt gravel road at 50km/h, we felt no wind while driving. However, when we stopped, we needed good footing to hold the bike up. While this tail wind makes for very nice driving, it's not good for the air cooled engine. Twice, we stopped for 5 minutes to let the engine cool down. The thermometer on the R100GS was reading well into the red at around 300 degrees Fahrenheit. There are two San Sebatians at Tierra del Fuego. One is on the Chilean side, while the other is on the Argentinean. The Chilean side has a restaurant hotel, and the Chilean border post while the Argentinean San Sebatian, 11km East, is only a border post. On the Chilean side is a little restaurant with an adjoining lodging area called "La Frontera". Since it was 6:00pm on a Sunday, we opted for spending the night here. They wanted $45 or 18,000 Chilean pesos (terrible exchange rate). I offered them 10,000 ($22) which they accepted without writing in the books. We made our own dinner in the back using some of our excess camping food. March 9, 1998 Ushuaia, Argentina - {Hospedaje Torres del Sur} R100GS 27917 R80G/S 38327 The howling wind outside serves to amplify the coziness of the warmth radiated from the wood burning stove inside the clean homey restaurant. The remote feeling, and even the name of this hotel "La Frontera" makes this feel like the end of the Earth. It really feels like winter here even though this is still early fall for Tierra del Fuego. >From Porvenir to Rio Grande, Tiera Del Fuego appears as slightly hilly grass land. Occasionally there are tough prickly short scrub bushes. South of Rio Grande, near T____ the landscape turns mountainous with beautiful vistas of lakes. The landscape is covered with a short stocky gnarly tree many of which look as though they were diseased or dying. All of the trees are covered with Spanish moss which may be the cause of their unhealthy appearance. Here they call this Spanish moss, Barba del Diablo, or beard of the devil. The road from the Argentine San Sebastian all the way until T___ is a nice two lane paved highway. From there, the road turns into a nice gravel road which is extremely dusty. At the police drivers license check which was just south of Rio Grande, I thought we were told the last 40km to Ushuaia was asfaulto (nice asphalt road). When we arrived at this point, I realized he must have said it was faulto (bad road in need of repair), for it was certainly that. A road grater spread a squishy mush of mud and rock across the road. It certainly focused all of my attention to drive across. The first 100 meter stretch Sharon drove her bike, however the second which was 200 meters was partially rutted, and so Sharon wanted me to take the R80G/S across. While driving the R100GS across, I had my legs out ready for a quick toe dab save. While riding the better weight balanced R80G/S with more appropriate tires, the front and rear wheels slid and felt like riding on snow or ice. The feel reminded me of when I use to deliver newspapers on a 70cc Honda passport in the winter. With that bike, this kind of slipperiness was fun and I use to intentionally throw the bike into a 180 degree spin in the snow. The R80G/S being four times heavier took all my concentration from keeping the front tire from slipping out to the side which would lead to an instant mud bath. The bikes stayed up, however the underside was covered in thick gloppy mud. I think there would be a good chance of the front wheel locking if we didn't have the raised front fender. The 300 meter stretch resulted in a couple inches of mud built up on the front of the engine. We arrived into Ushuaia past dark. Driving styles have changed. People drive faster than in Chile, and many of the intersections have neither yield nor stop signs. The Latin American way treats this as a sort of fast loose yield. Chile doesn't follow this Latin American convention. As we were checking out a nice but crowded hostel, we passed a person sitting in the sitting room. He said, "Oh, you are riding motorbikes. What kind are they?". I said an "R100GS". He paused, and then said, "then you must be Dave Thompson, and you must be Sharon." I said, "and you must be a psychic." He was Peter _____ who had written me some e-mail two months back telling me that he was planning to be in Ushuaia around now. He had gotten our e-mail and web page address from someone in South Africa. He had met Jim Gariock two days ago, who we had last seen in Peru. Jim had told him that we were planning to be in Ushuaia around now. March 10, 1998 Ushuaia, Argentina - {1410 Gobernador Paz} We talked with Peter most of the morning, about each other's travels. He had left Holland in Dec of '96, and had traveled through Africa, and then flew to Buenos Aires. He had traveled along the West coast of North Africa to the Ivory Coast. From the Ivory coast, he took a boat to South Africa where he then toured some more. He was under the impression that the Southern Egyptian border was closed, and so was Sudan, and thus why he didn't cross that area. Regarding carnet information, he said that Ghana was the first place he needed a carnet, and that it was also requested in South Africa. He said a common thing amongst half the travelers he met with vehicles is to have a copy of a carnet, expired, altered, fixed up rather than a valid one which would require a substantial bond held by the issuer of the carnet. He was doing the former. He had had a carnet on a previous trip several years before which was now invalid that he had altered during copying, and had worked fine for him in Africa. Given the difficulty and expense of these it was nice to hear that this was a possibility. He was riding on a '91 BMW R80GS which is very much like the '92 R100GS that we have. We exchanged stories and examined each others bikes. He had had a drive shaft failure around 80,000 km and had replaced it himself. In Argentina, he had a rotor failure. He was able to have the rotor rebuilt at a local shop for $29. He says he doesn't carry many spare parts. He belongs to the Dutch Automobile Association which as a member will send him vehicle parts where ever he happens to be in the world, for free. What a deal. He had tires from Holland sent to him in South Africa, for free. Unfortunately, one must be Dutch to belong to the Dutch Automobile Association. He had a custom made, one of a kind steel 35 liter gas tank which he had purchased for $70 back home. He said it leaked often, and has given him some troubles. Yesterday he had taken it to a welding shop where modification were made to better support it and plug the leaks. He wasn't happy with the tank. Later, Sharon and I walked around town intending to find a nice place to stay for Sharon's birthday, and possibly a nice place to eat. While there are many places to stay, value is low. We did find quite a few nice bakeries with delicious looking cakes, pies, and party deserts. Most shops are close from 1:00 until 4:00pm, so we were mostly window shopping as we walked around. Across the street was a house where the owners rented out rooms, and allowed free use of the kitchen. We decided to move into there since our room last night had no audible privacy, was tight on space, and according to the owner, 15 of the 30 people there had influenza. As what I assume was considered a treatment or symptom reliever, last night, Sharon witnessed one Argentinean woman inhaling vapors from a pot that she held her head over that contained a potato and some boiling water. Since it was Sharon's birthday, we looked for a restaurant to do a little celebrating. We found a nice one at the end of the main road which looked to have a promising menu. It was excellent. During two hours we dined, we were the only ones there. We both ordered king crab prepared in what they called Italian style. The dinner contained generous portions of king crab already shelled and combined with shallots, small potato balls (nisoise (sp?)), tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. With this we had a nice chardonay. Seemingly on accident, we found out the next day that they only charged 10% extra for the wine we chose where the others on the wine list were the typical double the purchase price at a grocery store. ---- First impressions of being in Argentina: We're back in the Latin American culture we are familiar with. Many intersections have no yield or stop sign indicating who has the right of way. We're back to where shower faucet labels have a 50-50 chance of being correctly marked. Many of the homes are built from cement just like the rest of Latin America where in Chile houses were almost always made of wood. In our first hotel night stay, the Europeans and North Americans were quiet around sleeping hours. We went to bed hearing Argentineans talking, and in the morning everyone could here them talking loud and laughing, which has been the way ever since we entered Mexico, with the exception being in Chile. March 11, 1998 Ushuaia, Argentina We had just paid US$18.50 for 3 stickers, 7 postcards and one patch. Feeling a little expense shock, and remembering how much restaurant food costs in this town, we walked down to the grocery store to find some food to make in our hotel kitchen. We found some fresh made ricotta raviolis made yesterday and marked to expire in four more days. This turned out to be an excellent find. While I'm not much of a ravioli fan, I think that is due to not having it made right. This was the best ricota cheese ravioli I've ever had. It would be excellent with just a little butter. However, we picked up some locally made Roquefort and Sharon made a Roquefort sauce with butter, milk, parmesan cheese, basil, garlic and black pepper. The Roquefort by itself was delicious and a little more creamy than the French counterpart. It was so good that we had to break out one of the bottles of wine that we had bought for dinner. We had a '95 Etcher cabernet sauvignon from Mendoza. Good value at $5.50 per bottle. Excellent lunch. Etcher appears to be a large Argentinean winery with a large assortment of wines from various regions in Argentina. We started seeing Mate paraphernalia around Southern Peru, and throughout Chile. Pronounced "Mah-TAY". It's primarily an Argentinean obsession that makes the whole British thing with tea seem mild. To properly drink Mate, one needs a special stainless steel straw with a closed end which is perforated and keeps the tea leaves (Mate) from being sucked up. Further this must be drunk from a special rough wood or flaky gourd cup. The grocery store in Ushuaia had a half isle of various Mate. In one corner they had the special straws, and cheap gourds if you happened to be in present need. They sold special styrofoam thermal type containers marketed for people to carry ice mate. While I wanted to experience this regional specialty, I didn't want to invest in a special cup and straw first. This grocery store sold a specially packaged yerba-mate kit. In a sealed package came a plastic cup full of Mate with little wood chips to simulate the wood cup. The kit came with a special plastic straw with the bottom perforated like a tea ball. I bought this package for a $1, and tried it in our hotel kitchen. I pealed back the foil lid on the plastic cup full of mate leaves. I filled the cup with boiling water. However there wasn't much room for the water since the cup was stuffed with the mate tea leaves. Apparently one keeps refilling with water as the mate is sipped down. It's a very strong flavor, I think best described as the expresso of green tea. Sharon, being a little less euphemistic, with a wrinkled frown said, "...you didn't tell me it tasted like horse shit", after spitting it out our second story hotel window. Up until the ~1949, Ushuaia was a penal colony where Argentina would ship it's worst prisoners including political prisoners. Around the turn of the century, the population consisted of mostly indigenous Indians, and Europeans from various countries. Today, the population are all Argentineans. The Indian population is considered extinct. Most of the people who live and work here work for the government, with the tourist industry being a close and growing second. In 1950 the population was around 3,000. In 1985 it was around 30,000, and now it's around 50,000. However, many of the people in the tourist industry come down here working six months out of the year and spend the rest of there life working else where such as Buenos Aires. Argentina maintains a naval base here. While most naval ships around the world are gray in color, many of the Argentinean naval ships are completely black. The freighters docked out in the harbor are usually a bright red and white on top. The red gives the ship the best visibility in the non summer months when snow and ice are the landscape backdrops. Tobacco, alcohol, perfume, cars, and gasoline are sold duty free in Ushuaia making them cheaper than anywhere else in Argentina. However, cars sold on the island can not be taken off for more than one month a year until they are at least six years old creating an incentive for people to live down here. Guillermo who is from Buenos Aires, but has been working here 6 months out of the year for the past 12 years, was telling us about the local Ushuaian culture. He says it's important to own a big car. People will work long hours, or extra jobs just so that they can buy a big expensive car. After which they then spend more time than on the home keeping it up in appearance. On Friday and Saturday nights, they may drive up and down the two main streets for hours. He says, if one has a big car, than one can get a woman to hang on his shoulder as he drives, who will,makes lovey dovey eyes at him distracting as he drives. Guillermo is young, single and doesn't own a car... Guillermo says with some contempt, "People drive fast, because the faster one drives shows that they are a better driver." This fast driving style he described of Ushuaian drivers doesn't differ from what we've experienced throughout most of Latin America. The other day, we were reading "Across Patagonia", written by Lady Florence Dixie in the 1860s. She wrote about stage coach drivers of Latin America, and how she had three accidents in one day due to the stage coach driver going too fast. When she asked why the stage coaches must drive so fast, the reply was that this is their way here. Things haven't changed since stage coach days. While walking around town, we found a motorcycle parts shop and picked up some oil foam filter oil. This stuff hasn't been so easy to find, and so I couldn't believe our luck when we just happened to find this shop that had several cases of various brands including Bell Ray and PJC. The Bell Ray they sold for $5 per bottle which is cheaper than any place I know back in the US where it is packaged. Both bikes are serious need of an oil filter cleaning. The last time cleaned was in Panama, before all of the dirt roads in Ecuador, Tierra del Fuego, back roads in Colombia, and sand from Peru and Northern Chile. I also picked up some fork oil at $5 per bottle. The R100GS having blown it's fork seals is now quite low. The seals actually blew a while a go. While I have replacement seals, I did not get the replacement dust caps which I'm afraid of now damaging during the extraction operation. Rather than possibly stranding myself, I've decided to hold off on changing these, and just add more oil in the mean time. The name of the motorcycle parts shop in Ushuaia is: HZ Motor Shop, San Martin 237, Tel (0901) 22711/35622 Note: Ushuaia is a launch point for trips to Antarctic cruises. Trips last 10-14 days, and cost around $2,500. Eco brand bottled water, which seems to be the only brand around here, sells for $2 per liter. Between the $1.25 and $2 range there are several Argentinean red and white table wines, making wine cheaper than water. We moved to a third hotel in Ushuaia. This time to a nice one which cost us $55 cash per night ($65 if paying by credit card). We spent two nights there. The main reason being that our room had a telephone which we could receive phone calls at, and we could also connect up our computer and exchange some E-mail which we longed for. The telephone in our room was a stylish modern design that wouldn't match up with our acoustic coupler which expects a more conventional phone handset. The phone jack looked like a standard RJ11 like what is used back home. I hooked up my volt meter to the two leads and it read 24 volts which is what I remember it reads back home. As far as I could tell, it looked like home, so I took a chance a plugged directly in, potentially frying my modem and computer. No problem. It worked just like at home, and we soon took care of our E-mail fix. (later note, the phone system in Buenos Aires which happens to be run by a different phone company read about 48 volts, and thus may not be compatible for direct connect) March 15, 1998 Rio Grande (Tierra del Fuego), Argentina - {Hotel del Mar} R80GS 38529 R100GS 28118 We headed North today, but before we did, we took our "we were here" pictures in front of the tourist dock, which is set up for touristy snap shots. It was hard to do since a tourist boat had just landed filling the street with retired Americans couples who saw the Illinois license plates and stopped to ask about our travels. After an hour we were able to get our three pictures, and take off. Fortunately, it wasn't raining on the way up. The first 10 miles was nicely paved followed by 14 miles of mostly packed mud. There is 32 miles of incredibly dusty gravel road, and then finally 75 miles of nice paved two lane highway to Rio Grande. We arrived in Rio Grande near sunset, obviously just missing some parade celebration that had been held that day. The roads throughout the center of town were filled with empty shaving cream cans. I assume people sprayed each other and cars passing by. We saw hundred of these empty cans lying about rolling along sidewalks, or crushed in the street. We stopped in at the cheapest hotel listed in our guide book. The woman running the place wanted $35 for her not so attractive place which she wouldn't bargain on. The toilet ran, ventilation was bad, the vintage black and white TV only received two snowy channels after slowly warming up, and she didn't have a place to park our motorcycles. We hopped on the bike and headed out of town. We found a place on the far East side of town called Hotel del Mar which was built on the beach facing the Atlantic Ocean. It was probably once a nice roadside motel, it was still clean, and had nice features, but in need of some upkeep. Our window promised a nice sunrise over the ocean view. We paid $50 to stay there that night. The hotels certainly lack value in this area. Downstairs there was an empty bar bathed in red light. Only a couple strange looking, but nicely dressed woman could be seen loitering around. Obviously, a place to go for lonely single men. March 16, 1998 ,Chile R80G/S 38673 R100GS 28260 At 7:30am, it was 45 degrees Fahrenheit when we hopped on the bikes. We drove to the South side of town back to the giant (~20 foot long) trout statue proclaiming Rio Grande, Tierra del Fuego as the Trout capital. We aligned the bikes in front to take a campy picture... We lucked out today with the wind. Usually there is a wind blowing from the West which would be in our face and to our left side. Fortunately it was calm with no wind all day. The two ferry crossings off of Tiera del Fuego are located on the Chilean side, and so to get to main land Argentina, we had to cross back into the Chilean portion of Tiera del Fuego. We passed by the smallest, and Southern most oil refinery which is located in the 11km that separate Argentinean and Chilean customs buildings on Tierra del Fuego at San Sebatian. It doesn't look much more than a couple petroleum holding tanks. The vibration from the road finally did there toll on the stitches holding the quick release buckle on my tank bag. We stopped, and I secured it loosely with some string. A little further down the road, I blew my horn, and drove past Sharon telling her to pull over. The left pannier on the R80G/S had swung open. The panniers are engineered like a car door. It is supported by a hinge, and a door latch. The door latch bracket is supported by two screws. The top screw had vibrated out, and disappeared who knows when. The bottom screw was still attached, however the bracket had broken from this lower mount point such that it would need to be welded. In the mean time, we emptied the half loaded pannier, and we tied the pannier in place with a bungee cord. The bikes are falling apart in need of attention. Besides the above, I need to: shim the top box mount shim and readjust the exhaust pipe clean the sand and dirt saturated air filters change the final drive oil readjust the valves, and retorque the heads. restring the kick stand pulls One of the leather straps on the R80G/S tank pannier is unstitched. We caught the free ferry to cross the narrow part of the Magellan straights, back to continental South America The crossing took less than a half hour. Sharon saw -----, dolphin sized orca whales.. The ferry crossing is located at the narrowest channel between Tierra del Fuego, and the main land. Next to the ferry crossing, on the island side, is a barb wire fenced off area with lots of red signs warning "DANGER, Mine field." The field is a fenced off wild grass area strewn with garbage that has blown in, mostly of plastic bags. In Chile, 19 miles from the Argentine border, we stopped for dinner at a lonely restaurant/house/farm on the plain. We hadn't eaten much more than a few snacks all day. The woman who ran the place said she could cook up some fried chicken and french fries for us. We accepted. In the boondocks like we were, the selection at the restaurants can be limited to a single dish. Except for the chicken bones and skin, we cleaned our plates. The bill came. She didn't have change for my 10,000 peso bill ($22), so I ended up paying her in all the small change I had which included all the Chilean coins, two American dollars bills, and an Argentinian small bill. Despite being 19 miles from the border, she wouldn't take Argentinian coins only paper foreign money. We asked where there was a place to camp nearby to which she replied that we could camp in her back yard for free. Not knowing if we had any other choices so close to sunset and about to drive again on an unpaved road, we readily accepted. She warmed up to us, and brought out some things of questionable value to ask us about. She showed us a clever analog watch encased in a metal flip up bezel which revealed a compass below. The face of the watch had "Yangee" written on it in red white and blue, and had a picture of the tower of London. She and her husband asked if it was an American watch apparently forgiving or not knowing the misspelling of Yangee for Yankee. The back of the watch said it was made in Yugoslavia. Not knowing the Spanish name for Yugoslavia, I told them this was the English name of where it was made. They later brought out a 1/3 of a torn bill. It had oriental writing, and was marked 10,000. While they knew it was worthless with only 1/3 in possession, they asked if we knew what it was. They knew that if it were Japanese, it would have been once worth a lot. Since it said "won", I told them that it was Korean, likely South Korean, giving it a current value of $7. March 17, 1998 Puerto San Julian, Argentina - (camped) R80G/S 38847 R100GS 28432 Last night, the wind which is so common and expected during the day didn't exist making for a calm completely silent night. It was the level of silence where the loudest noise is the white noise coming from the firing of neurons inside one's head. The moon was extremely bright lighting up everything in sight. A planet just as bright as the moon but smaller contributed to lighting up the sky. The silent calmness lasted until 6:00am when a light breeze struck the wind mill that pumps the water for the house/farm/restaurant. After our breakfast of coffee and samolina (cream of wheat), we packed up and hit the road. Two miles after leaving, my bike went on to reserve. One problem I have of driving with an oversized gas tank is a bit too much confidence when passing by gas stations. The last time we filled up was in Ushuaia. We could have filled up in Rio Grande, but having only driven 140 miles out of our roughly 340 mile range, we passed it up. Again we had an opportunity at Estancia (?), however the town was 7km off the main road down a gravel road, and so we didn't go out of our way thinking there surely would be one at the ferry port on the mainland side. As it turned out, there was nothing there. Last night, I asked our host where the nearest gas station was, and she said Rio Gallegos. Since I hadn't flipped on to reserved, I figured there is a good chance I could make it to Rio Gallegos. This morning after we had driven two miles, the bike ran out of gas and so I flipped onto reserved. We had gone 313 miles since Ushuaia. At 330 miles we hit the Argentine border. The sign says 63km to Rio Gallegos. Too far for reserve gas, however the R80G/S that Sharon is driving has a larger capacity tank. Sharon was feeling comfortable on this dirt road and was going about 45mph. Which is good since I figure in 5th gear we would get the best gas mileage. At 336 miles, I completely ran out and we transferred 4 liters from Sharon's bike. At 357 miles, Sharon says her bike goes onto reserve. At 364 miles, I went onto reserve again. At 365 miles, we pass a refinery. At 374 miles and some feeling of relief, we finally arrive at a gas station. My bike took 31.4 liters of gas in it's 32 liter tank which means I theoretically could have driven 5 miles more. Sharon's bike take 38.1 liters in it's 40 liter gas tank. I know that not all of that 40 liters is usable, so I'm not sure how much longer she could have gone. If the bike has a half gallon reserve, she would have had 3 more miles. However considering the theoretical total capacity including unreachable gas, there might have been enough to go 18 more miles. We do have a 1 gallon plastic fuel bag for carrying fuel, and spare fuel line to be used as a siphon tube. Fortunately, we didn't have to use it. >From Rio Gallegos until Cdte Luis Piedrabuena, there is 150 miles of Patagonia plains with nothing in between. Between Cdte Luis Piedrabuena, and Puerto San Julian is approximately 75 miles of more grass plains, Despite indications on the map, there were no settlements visible to us. "Ea La Silvita" turned out to be an uninhabited microwave relay station. In Puerto San Julian, we drove to the municipal campground. On our way in, I saw a hardware store that looked like they might sell mineral spirits. After finding the campground, I left Sharon to set up camp while I went back to buy some mineral spirits to clean the air filters on both bikes which were so filthy that the spark plugs were coming out black from burning too rich likely due to the air filters being clogged. Not knowing the Argentine Spanish for mineral spirits, I went in to the hardware store and said "I would like to buy liquid for cleaning paint... I don't know what it's called, but in English it's 'Mineral Spirits'". Obviously that worked, He brought out some "Aguarusco Mineral" which smelled and looked like mineral spirits. I asked for three liters of 'aguarusco mineral'. He said that he had the same thing but in a four liter container for much cheaper. I said great, I'll take it. even though this generic labeled large container didn't say 'aguarusco mineral'. I later found out that it wasn't mineral spirits but rather just paint thinner. That night, I soaked the filters in it. The foam in the filters expanded to about three times their normal height cluing me in that that I may be damaging my filters. It had a smell of toluene, like brake fluid cleaner or magic markers, and was really cold as if it was rapidly evaporating. By morning, they had shrunk down such that they were a little less than twice their normal size. March 18, 1998 Tres Ceros, Argentina - {Motel YPF} R80G/S 39240 R100GS 28727 I woke up early, and worked on some of the badly needed maintenance work these bikes needed. I recoated both air filters with the oil I picked up in Ushuaia. Cleaned the R80G/S rear brake shoes. I replaced the O-ring seal that was allowing final drive oil to leak in through the rear brake cam shaft. I also put an additional O-Ring on the end hoping it would help. I changed the final drive oil in both bikes, which is something I skipped at the last oil change interval back in Curico, Chile. I put in some YPF 80W90 oil which they charge $5 per liter for. (Yowch) I found a welder to weld and repair the left pannier bracket that locks the pannier to the luggage frame. This had broken in Tierra del Fuego, and has been strapped to the bike from swinging out with a tight bungee cord ever since. I also restrung a new kick stand pull wire re-enabling Sharon's independence in putting the bike on the side stand since she is in-seem challenged on this particular bike. After a peanut butter sandwich, and a quick look at the WWII vintage 9 cylinder, two seater, American made, war plane they have in the park, we were finally ready to leave at 3:30pm. We stopped at the grocery store to drop off our two returnable one liter beer bottles from last night's dinner, however the grocery store was closed for the afternoon siesta, so I left them in front forfeiting our $1 deposit return. We drove 95 miles to a dot on our map called Tres Ceros. We never know what these dots are going to be. Our map says that they are places with populations less than 100. Puerto San Julian was one of these dots, but it had a population of 4,000. Today, we passed the point on our map called El Salado. It's a cross in the road with population zero. Since zero is less than 100, I can't say the map is inaccurate here. It's difficult to plan out when our next gas station will be since both of our maps on the area are like this. The plains of Patagonia are so barren, that the smallest things are marked with a spec indicating the population is less than 100, leaving us to flipping a coin whether a gas station might be there or not. The best bet is just to fill up at every chance. The wind today was rough. Sharon who is riding the lighter bike was tossed around a bit more. When the wind was steady, sometimes I saw her riding at a 30 degree angle compensating for the wind. The wind was blowing from the North West which was sometimes a head wind, sometimes a side wind. After 95 miles, we reached the dot on our map called Tres Cerros, which turned out to be a restaurant, a gas station, and a police station... that's it. We stopped at the restaurant. I was a bit chilled since the weather had turned from hot, in San Julian, to overcast, windy and cool, and I was dressed for warm temperatures. While Sharon wasn't cold, she was worn out from fighting the wind. She couldn't turn the handlebars to steer the bike off the highway into the restaurant. Her hands and arms were so numb from fatigue and lack of circulation caused from gripping so hard, that she just sat on the empty highway until I could drop off my bike and get her off. In the restaurant, we each had a large cup of coffee, and a milanesa sandwich which is a thin slice of breaded veal on mayonnaise covered sandwich bread. After a long rest, we drove 1km down to the gas station, filled up, and then headed up the road a mile to the gas station. Gas sold for $.55 per liter here. It was $.39 in Ushuaia. ($2.12 per gallon Vs $1.50 per gallon). We drove a few miles down the road. Sharon who is in the lead was going 30mph due to the gusting cross wind. The gusting wind was pushing her all over her lane. At this rate, we wouldn't reach the next dot on our map, Fitz roy, until an hour after dark. It looked like it was raining up ahead, and this was just dangerous driving. We turned the bikes around, and headed back to the gas station. The YPF gas station did have 6 rooms and an attached dining area restaurant. They rented out rooms for $35 per night. Having no choice, we pulled in. The gas attendant let us park our bikes in the garage out of the wind. The room turned out to be nice enough, roomy and clean with three single beds, table and chairs, and a private bathroom with hot water. Talking with some of the locals, we found out that it's normal for it to be windy every day in this area, However the wind varies as far as being windy in the morning, afternoon, evening or night. Sometimes the wind gets up to 100km/h (61mph). It's dangerous for the truck drivers who apparently among them it is not uncommon to hear of one flipping over from a surprise gust while driving down the highway. The six rooms seemed to fill up quickly as others drivers also considered it too hazardous to continue on. March 19, 1998 R100GS 28829 R80G/S 39241 If one built a house in Patagonia, that would qualify to get one's name on every map of Patagonia. Even the international maps, have the smallest man made thing marked as a point on the map. Given that there is nothing but flat plains of grass and scrub for 1500 miles, seeing something that doesn't naturally occur on this plain is a big event. Highway signs say, for example, Fitz roy in 55km, where Fitzroy might have once been someone's shack 150 years ago, Currently Fitzroy has a population of 0, and is currently just an intersection. One would deserve some notoriety if they could stand living hundreds of miles from the nearest supply store in this windy grassland desert. Fitzroy was the name of the captain of the Beagle, the ship that Darwin sailed around here. Along the side of the road there are signs that say, Telephone in 50km. This is not a good place for a Wall street ticker tape watcher to travel without a satellite phone. A long way from anywhere, we stopped at a gas station which on the map is marked as the town of Gaya____. The town of Gaya___ has this gas station, a police check point, and some sort of empty looking plant. Sharon wasn't interested in driving any further today, and wanted to see about setting up camp here. I asked the clerk inside if there was some place to camp near. He said we could camp here for free. They had an area that looked like a tree nursery which in reality was an area that had recently planted trees to create a natural sort of wind block, and picnic rest area for road travelers. Initially, I wasn't keen on camping at a gas station, but with the natural tree surroundings serving as a visual break from the gas station, it wasn't bad. There were a couple giant wood cable spools lying around that we used for tables. We set up camp in the back as the sun was setting. We started getting dinner ready, however we had some problems with our stove sputtering out. After it cooled down, we disassembled it to clean it. Fortunately it's easily field cleanable, however it took a couple tries to get it clean enough to use. Meanwhile, the bulb in our little Mag light penlight burnt out. I replaced it with the spare. This is the second spare I've put in. The last one being in Southern Colombia. I picked up a package of two spares in Quito. While eating dinner and under the influence of some wine, we talked how we look at this situation a couple ways... 1) Isn't this awesome?? Eaten some kick ass pasta with incredibly spicy red sauce washing it down with a little Argentinean vino tinto. I'm in Patagonia! 150 miles from the closest signs of civilization, and the stars are shining so bright. and the air smells so fresh. We're camping out here for free, and have free access to hot showers. 2) I'm eating dinner outside of a gas station in the dark, I'm eating out of the pot, and I don't have a chair to sit on, or real dishes to eat with. We're going to have to listen to diesel engines all night at this gas station. I'm cold.... There's nothing to see in Patagonia... Both are accurate, and both may overlook the other view. It certainly helps the moral having control of that mania switch, i.e. putting on the rose colored glasses in unpleasant situations. If it were colder, windier and rainy, my glasses might be harder to find, but certainly more needed. March 20, 1998 Puerto Madryn, Argentina - {Backpackers Hostal} R80G/S 39541 R100GS 29123 We drove by a flock of ~10 rheas or South American ostriches. They are so common in Patagonia, that we no longer stop anymore to check them out. These use to be hunted by the locals with a special weapon called a bola. It consists of three metal tennis ball sized metal balls attached together by three strings. When thrown through the air, the balls rotate in orbit around the knot that binds the three together. When this string catches on an rheas' neck or legs, the strings tightly wrap around the neck followed by a triple whammy from the metal balls. The description of how they work comes from my imagination rather than having seen them in action. Like the silver mate cups, every Argentine souvenir shop has a set of bolas to buy. Later we passed an armadillo crossing the road just managing to miss it as we crossed paths at 70mph. The one we saw was much smaller than the one's we saw in Arkansas and Texas. Further North, the grass grew higher and the bushes were taller suggesting less wind. Puerto Madryn is located just South of the Peninsula Valdes, and is a popular place to sea whales, sea lions, seals, birds, etc. which is what we intended to do. It also happens to be last stop for relatively cheap gas. North of 42 degrees South latitude, the price of gasoline doubles. The Argentine government drops taxes on gasoline down here as an incentive to get people to move to the under populated South. We filled up our gas tank before leaving. At the gas station, I asked how much a liter of oil costs. A bottle of plain Shell 10W40 dinosaur oil sells for $9. That's ten times higher than what I pay for the same back home. I later found this to be the case all throughout Argentina. I previously thought oil in Chile was expensive, however oil in Chile is a bargain. We checked into a place called the Backpackers hostal, which because of preconceived notions about the name we were surprised to find how nice it was. At $35 per night, we had a nice clean room with it's own private kitchen, stove, refrigerator, dishes, private bathroom. Outdoor was a garden with a grill, and a nice place to park the motorcycles. We walked around town to the super market to pick up some food to prepare in our kitchen. This is a much richer country that what we've been use to seeing. All the well dressed kids are playing together on their mountain bikes or BMX's. Teenagers are running around (playing) on four wheel ATVs. Older kids are cruising around town in their cars. These are all luxury items. North of Chile and Argentina, these luxury items are much more scarce. Fewer bikes, no ATVs, and the cars and gas are more used for work rather than putz'n around town, pick'n up chicks. Prices everywhere are often the same or more than what I would expect to pay back home. I'm told this area is a little more expensive than Buenos Aires though due to it's Southern proximity, and the fact that it's a tourist town. I've found politeness and courtesies as strong in the culture as in Chile. I still feel caught off guard when someone extends a courtesy that I grew accustom to not seeing North of Chile and Argentina. Twice in the past week, at a store when I said "Thank you" as I'm leaving, the clerk said, "No. Thank _You_". While it doesn't seem like a big deal, it may not be. But I haven't head this phrase "No, Gracia por ustedes" in ten months of traveling through Latin America, and was caught off guard at this phrase. In Chile, we were shocked when cars would slow down and let us walk across the street. The same courtesy exists here in Puerto Madryn. Sharon saw some kid riding down the sidewalk, stop, pick up his bike, carry it five feet, get back on and ride off only because he didn't want to ride over the neighbors garden hose. One Argentinean peso is equal to one US dollar. The two currencies are used interchangeably in Argentina, however people prefer their local currency. Shop keepers scrutinize US bills and will reject on the slightest defect, while torn Argentinean currency is readily accepted. I've been told the peso is locked to the US dollar by law. March 21, 1998 Puerto Madryn, Argentina - {Backpackers Hostal} We took a tour of the peninsula Valdes. The shuttle bus picked us up at 8:30am, and returned us around 6:30pm. The bus took us to the seal and sea lion colonies. Unfortunately, this wasn't the time of year where the whales are common off the shores, and so we didn't see any. We saw the large seals fighting each other, bumping their upper bellies together like two belching sumo wrestlers. I don't know what the English name is, but in Spanish they are called Lobo Marino de uno pelo, which literally translates to sea wolf of one hair. These seals are much larger than the ones we saw on our boat cruise from Puerto Mont to Puerto Natales. The smaller ones we saw seemed playful. These large seals seem to spend their time napping in the sun, or fighting each other. Several seals have scabs on their necks, obviously teeth marks from other battles. We saw more Nandus (Ostrich), but by now, they seem about as common as seeing a robin in Illinois. Spanish (and Latin) names for creatures we saw include... Cormoran roquero ( Phalacrocorax magellanicus) Elefante marino del sur (Mirounga leonina) Lobo marino de dos pelos (Arctocephalus australis) Gaviota austral (Leucophaeus Scoresbii) - some type of sea gull Planning to make the most of our kitchen back in our room, We stopped of at a butcher shop bought the beef that Argentina is so famous for. A big blood covered butcher with a husky, gruff but friendly voice waited on us. We told him we wanted two 1/4 kilo tenderloin steaks which sold for $7 per kilo or $3.18 per pound. He opened a large stainless steal refrigerator door, and pulled out a half cow. The cow was suspended by a meat hook attached to a track wheel which he could roll across the room if he wanted. He reached in the refrigerator, and pulled out another half cow. He then began sawing away at a big chunk of meat from this cow with his sharp knife as it hung in front of us. I've never seen store bought beef fresher than this. I had no idea where tenderloin comes from on a cow before seeing this custom surgical extraction. After the requested hunk of flesh was removed, he then trimmed it up such that practically no fat remained. If this were my home town, I would be a regular customer... We stopped next door at the bakery, and picked up a fresh baked, still warm baguette. Next door on the other side of the butcher's place, we stopped at the fresh fruit and vegetable shop and picked up an onion and some garlic. Next to the fruit shop was a grocery store which we picked up a bottle of Argentinian cabernet. Since all were unknown to us except the one's we tried in Ushuaia, we picked one with a cow on the front label since this was to go with our steak dinner. It was a '94 Aberdeen Angus Cabernet sauvignon, from Maipu Mendoza. I've noticed that just about every Chilean or Argentinian wine says it's from Maipu. That's got to be the largest river valley I've ever heard of. Either that or the commercial incentives for saying a particular winery is in Maipu is pretty high, and the likes of the treaty of Versailles doesn't apply here. Dinner was excellent. We wished we bought a kilo of steak... March 22, 1998 El Condor, Argentina - (Camped at UPCN) R80G/S 39711 R100GS 29290 We met a Japanese motorcyclist who started in San Diego, California. He purchased a Suzuki 250cc dirt bike, drove to Alaska, and then down to Tierra del Fuego and then back up to here. Note: It seems as if by law Argentine soft drinks must state whether they contain alcohol, and what percent of fruit juices they contain. Both 7-up, and Sprite state the percentage of lime and lemon juice contained. However they two drink also taste more lemony or limy than any where in the world that I've tried them. Argentine 7-up claims 5% lemon juice. At a police check, a cop pulled us over and asked where we were headed. I told him we were planning to camp and asked if there were any camp grounds nearby. He suggested driving out to the coast to El Condor. He handed me a tourist brochure and map on the area. We drove out there. Being low season, the camp grounds were completely empty. I couldn't find anyone to register with and pay, so as a result we ended up camping for free. Normally it's $3 per person, $4 per tent, and $3 per vehicle, totalling $16 for us to spend the night. We got lucky... I ran into town to pick up some dinner. I had in mind to get some spaghetti. This grocery store was a typical small one where the merchandise is behind the counter, and a clerk retrieves what one ask for. I said to the young clerk, "I would like to buy some tomato sauce (pure de tomate)". She turns around and picks up a bag of tea (yerba mate). I smile, chuckle and said "no, pure de TOmate". She says "Oh" points to some fresh tomatoes behind me. I enunciate slowly "PURE de tomate". Fortunately I spot it just then, and point to what I'm looking for and say "Over there in the red box", She walks over to where I point to, and puts her hands down on a blue and white bag of sugar three inches away from the red box of tomato sauce. She turns her head looking at me with a question mark stamped on her forehead. Again I say "the RED BOX, PURE de TOMATE please". She spots the only red item in the vicinity inches from her hand, which has written in bold letters on it "Pure de Tomate". When she found what I had requested, she looked as though she thwacked herself in the head for not catching on a little sooner. I couldn't help asking her "How do you say this?". She repeated back to me "Pure de tomate" with no distinguishable difference to what I said. This is likely the 10th time I've purchased this and first time I've ever had a problem. So that she wouldn't feel like a moron, I took the blame and apologized for my poor Spanish. However I did start to wonder about the size of her ancestral gene pool... Now that I had her attention, I only had a little trouble getting some beer and spaghetti noodles. March 23, 1998 R100GS 29596 R80G/S 40017 At V____ (30 miles north of El Condor) we Crossed Rio.... which is considered the Northern boundary of Patagonia The world changed. The slightest scenery change has become so perceptible since we've been driving by the same scene for 1500 miles. It changed from flat plains of grass and scrub bush to flat plains of grass, scrub bush and little yellow flowers. Bahia Blanca is by far the most populated area this far South in Argentina at nearly a million people. We stopped in what we thought was a grocery store which turned out to be similar to a Sam's Club warehouse store except they only sold goods by the case. It was the kind of place one would go to stock a small grocery store. Prices where the best we've seen since leaving home, giving me the impression that goods cost as much as they do around here, not because of import costs, but because of the distribution and profits taken by the little grocery store. For example, a can of Pringles (sold here by the case), sells for $1.79 per can which seems reasonable. Else where we've seen this at up to $4 per can. This place seems ripe for a Wallmart. It seems most people have a car, and so proximity of a little store is not as much of an issue. Since the little stores charge so much, a Wallmart which could handle bulk shipments and could deal in quantity, and not charge for being the second or third reseller would do well. However, I Wallmart has already thought of this since they have a store in Bahia Blanca. This is the first Wallmart we have seen since Cancun. Past Bahia Blanca, the landscape again changed to cultivated lands, and grass grazing areas. The shoulders on each side were cut grass. Both Sharon and I thought this looks like home. Sharon began experiencing problems with her bike. When driving around 60-70mph, she would occasionally experience a surge for a second or two. She pulled over to a grassy shoulder, and I took a quick look. There were small traces of the new air foam filter oil in the air inlet tube into the carburetor, however that didn't seem to be a problem. I looked at the plugs, and on the left side, the plug was fouled with a build up of black deposits near the spark. I'm pretty sure this was from the air foam filter oil. I cleaned these up, checked the gap, and stuck them back in. While I didn't seriously think this was her problem, there wasn't much more that could be done with sporadic problem. Having less than a half hour of sunlight, we pulled into a gas station. While this Esso gas station was closed, there were several older friendly looking men doing construction. I drove up to one, and asked if there was camping nearby. He suggested that we might be able to camp here. He asked the guy in charge, who said that would be fine and that we could camp in back. In back there were two rows of trees planted long ago in a line to serve as a wind break. In between them was a nice mowed grass lawn in which they indicated we could camp. It was a nice spot. The gas station was open for business, so we wouldn't hear any noise. They had just finished rebuilding and installing the bathrooms, and suggested that we use the showers if we like. The 5 of so workers left at sunset after making sure we were comfortable for the night. We made dinner behind a stack of bricks that we used as a wind break. March 24, 1998 Azul, Argentina - {Hotel Blue} R80G/S 40341 R100GS 29912 The construction crew showed up about 9:00am. They asked how our nights stay was, and if everything was O.K. We packed up our things, and left later that morning. Sharon brought a package of bakery made cookies and handed it to the workers. At a gas station down the way, We met a young Argentinean who was coming back from Ushuaia on his well worn looking '86 Honda XR600. He was looking a little cold in his down jacket. We had had our electric jacket liners turned up pretty high to fight the cold. While we were talking, an older guy who had stopped to get some gas saw us and introduced himself. He switched to English speaking energetically and courteously. He asked of our ancestral heritage. He had just written a book in Spanish, and then translated it himself into French. He asked about our travels and sounded sincerely interested. His mannerisms seemed more European than Latin American. He invited us to come over to his house to rest if we like, and or spend the night. It was an unexpected invitation that I'm sure would have been nice, however we had just gotten on the road less than a half hour before, and were interested in driving to Azul. We drove 129 miles to Azul, During which the R100GS turned over 30000 miles. In Azul, Sharon found us a nice hotel room. She came back and told me it was a nice room for $25 with bathroom and parking for the motorcycle. I asked her what the catch was since that was so cheap, especially in Argentina this close to Buenos Aires. Unfortunately, it had a TV with the standard set of English cable channels subtitled in Spanish. We now call these time sucks, since the lure of being able to watch a movie in English is so great that we often have a hard time getting anything else done. On short vacation trips, I would never do the couch potato thing, however being away from our native culture for so long, the movies are a nice 2 hour visit to home. Since it was now siesta time 1pm~4:00pm, everything was closed. Argentineans take siestas seriously. It can be really frustrating when you want to buy something in the afternoon. Sore hours are typically 9:00-1:00,4:00-8:00. Some government offices close at 4:30pm for the day. leaving a short time during the morning to get business done. Meanwhile, we took the showers we had been wanting for the last two days, We snacked on the remaining food we had. Cheese, bread and Grand Marnier. [Skip the next two paragraphs if you're not interested in motorcycle tires] The high speed driving along flat asphalt roads have squared off the rear tires giving them a well worn spot down the middle. The rear tire on the R80G/S was now just loosing all definition in it's tread down the middle such that one could now say it's bald. This Pirreli MT70 was purchased in Quito 7844 miles ago. It's been a good stable tire with good traction the entire way. I liked it much more than the Avon Gripster or the Dunlop Trailwing that we also used on this trip. The rear Pirelli MT75 on the R100GS which was also purchased in Quito still has some life in it, and so I'll hold off on replacing it. It's a street tire rather than a dual sport tread like the MT70. It's been a good tire, however obviously because of it's design, clearly lacking in traction on mud, sand and gravel. Since both of these tires are made in Brazil, they're not likely going to be any cheaper wherever we end up in Europe. I went out looking for some tires. Despite the size of this town, I was able to find an MT70 rear tire for both motorcycle, the price of $65 and $90. One vendor was hesitant to sell me the rear tire for the R80G/S because he couldn't believe BMW would put such a small tire on such a heavy bike. Increasing the rear tire size is one of the features they put on in later years. One difference I found here as opposed to Ecuador is that car tire vendors in Argentina also sell motorcycle tires. This was not the case in previous countries that I looked. At a Firestone dealer in Azul, one can get Avon Gripsters for around $130. This is the first time I've seen these for sale since leaving the US. I bought an Imperial brand inner tube since that seemed the best available. It's an Argentinean made tube of pure rubber, and looks similar in thickness to the German made Metzler or Continentals I prefer to buy, but haven't seen since the US. Notes: In Argentina, inner tubes are called "camaras", I believe in central America, they were called "tubos". In Argentina and Chile, a tire is called a "neumatico", where as the rest of Latin America, they were called "llantas". In Chile and Argentina, "llanta" is the word used for the wheel or rim. While on Spanish etymology, in Argentina, butter is called "manteca". Throughout all of Latin America including Chile, butter was called "mantequilla". Argentineans pronounce their "ll" and "y" like the English "j" or "zhe". If I remember correctly Mexicans did this too. Azul is home of the G.A.M.A (Groupo de Amigos con Motos de Azul), a well organized motorcycle club. While I was purchasing some tires, the clerk told me about the club which was just around the corner. I had previously heard of this club from a Japanese motorcycle traveler a couple days ago. I stopped by the club which had about 10 motorcycles outside. There were two mechanics working on bikes. They asked me if I needed any work done on my bike, or if I needed a place to stay. I thanked them for the offer, and left but not before hearing that Jim, the Australian we traveled with in Ecuador and Peru had been here less than a week before. Later that evening, one of the club members stopped by the hotel. She greeted me in the Argentinean way. That is with a close handshake, and a touching of the cheeks while making a kissing noise with the lips in each others ear. This was my second time being greeted this way by an Argentinean stranger and still I was taken by surprise, I managed a clumsy cheek touch and kiss sound that missed it's timing mark. She came to tell me about the national rally in two weeks. The G.A.M.A. hosts a rally in Azul each year with motorcyclists from all over Argentina, and other countries. Last year they had about 2,000 motorcycles. This year they expect 2,500 to 3,000 motorcycles. Earlier I had stopped by the club. There were about 10 motorcycles outside at the time. They had two mechanics working different bikes. They asked if I needed help with anything on my bike which I didn't. Friendly group of people. March 25, 1998 Azul, Argentina - {Hotel Blue} I woke up this morning a went down stairs into the lobby to work on my journal since Sharon was still sleeping. I talked with the clerks about where I was from, and about travelling through Argentina. One guy brought out a dirt bike motorcycle helmet and goggles he was trying to sell. I told him I had one, and wasn't interested. He, however just wanted to know what I thought of it, and the price that he intended to get for it. While by US standard, it seemed expensive, I had no idea what it was in an Argentinian market, and so gave him an ambiguous positive sounding reply. Later that day, I saw the same helmet and goggles for sale in the grocery store for the same price he was asking. The local grocery store had a motorcycle section similar to how drug stores have automotive sections in the US. However this one also sold motorcycle batteries, spark plugs, hand grips, helmets, brake pads, etc. Later the clerks brought out some mate, and asked if we had this back in the US. I said know, and then they offered to prepare me a cup which I accepted. My first experience having been unpleasant, I thought it would be wise to have a local prepare it and then sample that. I'm glad I did as it turned out to be much more enjoyable. March 26, 1998 San Miguel del Monte, Argentina - {Hotel El Fogon} R80GS 40481 R100GS 30041 San Miguel del Monte along route 3 feels like a long bus and truck stop with nothing particular of note. We checked into a hotel, and then found something to eat. While we were only 60 miles away from Buenos Aires, we hadn't planned to be there until tomorrow when we would meet my Dad and Lee. ---- Dave Thompson thompson@pdnt.com www - http://sdg.ncsa.uiuc.edu/~mag/Thompson Net-Tamer V 1.09 Palm Top - Registered