NOT COOL

PART 2

     Yesterday I woke up and watched the sunrise over the lake from Bariloche. It was strikingly beautiful because the lake is surrounded by ridge lines at different distances making the color of each ridge different as the stars fade and the sky gets lighter and lighter with not a cloud in sight. I was sleeping less than 50' from the water with nothing in between and it was inspiring. One of those where you just can't help feeling excited about what the day will bring. That part was cool. 

     I had been traveling with Bear. A great guy from the states who is on sabbatical and doing the same thing I am on the exact same kind of bike. Kindred spirits doesn't convey how much we share. But it was time to part ways as he had a gal flying down to meet him. I packed up and hit the road after breakfast. 

     At the A(utomovil)C(lub)A(rgentina) gas station in Bariloche I had the good fortune to meet a local guy, Fernando Trono, who spends part of the year here and part in Barcelona and we'll likely meet up in Buenos Aires next week. We had lots to talk about as Barca is one of my favorite cities and he has toured Argentina on his Yamaha Tenere. He gave me some great tips about where to have lunch in Villa La Angostura on the other side of the lake, which route to take north, where to camp, and so on. Great, great guy. 

     And I was off. Not exactly an early start but, so what?

     After taking the 'secret' road behind El Misador so I could park right on the beach for lunch I then went to a kiosco to provision for camping. While at the little store I met another fellow moto traveler. He is 63 and riding a chopper style and on his way to Chile for seafood. Turns out Dr. Carlos Demare is the Director Ejecutivo of Ente Nacional de Alto Rendimiento Deportivo for Argentina. That's Olympic Committee level. Turns out he used to sail Lightnings competitively and was the president of the country's sailing federation as well. Good guy to know. He still races what looks like a big Melges - fractional rig, open transom, all race. Big and competitive local fleet. We probably sat on the porch for an hour swapping sailing yarns and, needless to say, I have a ride for racing, maybe even driving, when we are back in BsAs. I love this country and it's people.

     So I finally pack my wine and food and hit the Ruta de Siete Lagos. Absolutely beautiful country on this side of the cordillera. Amazing alpine lakes and still a bluebird day. Loving life. Make San Martin de Los Andes and drive around for a bit checking out the town. Tahoe has nothing on this place, or lake. My favorite spot so far on the trip. 

     I push on north instead of staying though because I want to camp somewhere cool. The 40(famous with the moto croud) is mostly paved now so I decide to cut the more direct route towards Villa Pehuenia on the shores of Lago Alumine and get back on the ripio(dirt/gravel) roads. Pehuenia has been recommended to me three times so far by different, very credible sources and I am really looking forward to it. Supposed to be similar to San Martin de Los Andes 30 years ago. 

     So there I am ripping up the ripio in early evening and the light is perfect and the road is following the river and the temperature is warm and the leaves are turning on the trees and I am going to stop somewhere soon for the night and I could almost cry it's been such an awesome, awesome day. Seriously can't wipe the smile from my face when I feel something in the upper inner cartilage part of my left ear. AHHHHHHH!!! ITS STINGING ME OR BITING ME. AND IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE JUST A BEE. Star Trek Wrath of Khan flashes.

     I don't have perfect recollection of the wreck like other times in my life where things seemed to go slow mo when I'm about to meet my maker. But... I think I sat down, grabbed my helmet with my left hand and started braking and... WHAM WHAM WHAM and a face full of ripio. And when I opened my eyes - total yard sale. The whole block is participating. Have no idea how the jerry can on top of my top box got smashed but it was tied in tight and it is still in place. In other words, I endo'd at some point. Ass over appetite. My glasses are about 10 yards away. A little off to the side of the top half of my windscreen. My left mirror is behind me by a ways. The bike is behind me too and facing the other way and pouring gas from one of the vent tubes under the seat. And there is a big hole in the road where something hit like an asteroid. I couldn't make any sense of the track. 

     While I exhaled hard to blow the dirt out of my nose and spit the sandy grind out of my mouth I started ripping my helmet off. On the ground. My ear is still there and there is nothing in my head. Then I took stock. Hands- check but the right one a little numb. Face- uh, ok i guess, Body- no sharp pains anywhere, My left foot hurts bad when I tried to stand. Scuttled back to the bike and killed the fan switch and the gas valve to off. Motor wasn't still running. Sat their for a few and watched the gas making a wet spot. Holy shit. What just happened?! 

     Tried to right the bike. No way. And I am on this size bike because I can pick it up. Usually. Realized I couldn't do it after a couple different attempts. So I took a dry bag off and put my arm through one of the straps and grabbed the handle bar with my good left hand and tried using just my right leg/foot. Still no way. Shit. And not a soul in sight. Untied the gas and undid the topbox one handed and then cradled it off the back. Unsnapped the right dry bag too. Tried again with the arm through the strap method. Still no way. 

     I walked back a ways and put my camelback in the road so no one would come flying around the bend and into me and my mess. As I was hobbling back I finally heard someone on the road behind me. It took a while to cover the 50 yards or so. I turned around and waited, then started waving. Two guys in an old funky Citroen slowed and just looked at me like an apparition. They stopped and got out and questioned with thumbs up. I don't recall what I tried to say but the two of them picked the bike up and wouldn't let me help. Then they started picking up my yard sale. Still wouldn't let me help. 

     So there we are with a giant pile of shit on the side of the road trying to figure out what to do, where is the nearest farm, etc. when I hear motos coming from the other direction. Talk about humble pie. 4 of them. Nice KTM adventure's and BMWGS. They sprang into action. First aid kits came out. A folding plastic ruler was broken into pieces for a splint for my wrist. And they started discussing/fighting about what to do, where to go. I tried to explain that I could communicate but much was lost in translation(later this improved immensely when they got used to my diction and they slowed down their speech). Much was probably lost as they were initially in shock at the site of me. A Parque Nacional ranger came along in a pickup and he was going my way and was willing to take me but after more discussion and my shock dissipating and looking at my map and so on, we decided it would be best if I were in the direction of the nearest airport. Which was back the way I had come from. 

     They started putting stuff back together on my bike. While I and another tried starting it. It's a KLR! Fired right up. No radiator leaks. Instrument cluster is trashed and all the glass is busted out but the speedo, tach, and temp still work. The voltmeter I had on top is lost in the melee. Missing a mirror. No big deal. Left pannier stopping swing arm travel. Pull on it with two guys. No big deal. Lights still work(at this point its twilight). Brakes are fine. Clutch and brake levers ok. The handlebars are a little lower than before but the front turns to the stops. Wheels look ok. Jeez, what a mack truck of a moto. 

     Eventually we figured the only way me and the bike are getting to civilisation is if I can ride it. I start it and they wheel it into the center of the road for me. Someone takes my camelback. Someone takes my gloves. I have a 'cramp buster' lever for the throttle that we test actuate with my splint before all this.  I tell them that if it works that I am going to just keep going and they will catch me. Hopefully a truck will come along and we can throw it in the back - none did. Off I go. Very slow. I use my heel to shift. One of them is on my left in no time, riding me in. Riding ripio one handed is a challenge. My hand hurts and its getting worse because i tried to use it when it got squirrelly a time or two. My fricking ear hurts like hell but its relative. As for my foot, ehhh, its ok if I don't put it down. We're doing this. The KTM next to me has superior headlights or it would have taken longer but about an hour later we get off the ripio. One of them rode ahead to tell the police check not to stop me. Two behind us that I didn't see until town. 

     

     We get back to Junin de los Andes after some asphalt relief and go to a little restaurante where they make me eat a ham and cheese sandwich while they start making calls. Wouldn't let me pay for it. Anyways, they are from here. Or near here. And they know the english teacher at the school. So she shows up at the restaurant a short while later and Soledad, the english teacher, scolds them because my spanish is not non-existent and off we go to the hospital in Daniel's car for x-rays. He parks in the 'ambulance only' like he works there. Just another friend, and he does work there. Old school, on film, x-rays later, Doc comes out. 

     The Doctor was a great lady too.  So nice and I think she really did feel bad telling me I was out of commission for a month. Suggested I wash my arm before the plaster. Good idea. Never had a cast before! 

     Anyhow, back to the restaurante where everyone is still hanging out. Soledad starts calling around for places to stay and keep my bike while we take a bunch of photos of my new cast and exchange email addresses and facebook and all that. We finally part ways and Sole drives me and all my crap to the hospedaje while Daniel follows on my bike and here I sit. Counting my blessings. Not cool but it could have been sooooooo much worse!

     And it is another beautiful day!

Part One 

     of "NOT COOL" came the day before.  

     Bear and I are in the middle of nowhere at a little lake between El Bolson and Bariloche having lunch and when we got back to our bikes which were less than 100yards away... 3 ipods, iphone, 2 cameras, his riding gloves and all my cash... jacked. Hence, no fotos. First time for either of us in all of our combined travels is pretty remarkable. Also, remarkable in that it happened where it did.

     Oh well. C'est la vie. It is what it is.

     Even if it comes in three's it can't be tooooo bad right?

     We'll see.

     I love this country and it's people and this time in my life.

     Saludos y suerte amigos,

     y mucho, mucho, mucho gracias   

     -K