I arrived in Ushuaia on Sunday evening, and Pablo, Ezequiel and Agustin, were flying home to Buenos Aires on the Tuesday, so we had just one day to spend together in town before they left…

View from the sidewalk restaurant where we ate most of our meals... Snow-capped mountains surround the town...

After a quick breakfast, Agustin went into town and came back brandishing tickets for a boat ride out into the Beagle Channel… First we had to sort out my rear tyre, which I had pumped up yet again just before locating my friends the night before… We went down into the industrial area and found a “vulcaniser” who in a matter of minutes had the puncture repaired. (See next post for details…)

This unusual building stood across from the port area... I bet no snow gathers on that roof...!!

This beautiful schooner motored into the bay as we were were heading out into the channel... Ushuaia is a regular stopover for the tall ships that journey around the globe, ferrying tourists and volunteers alike...

There are many things to see and do down here...!! Trekking being one that I was loath to try... There are far more civilized ways to get about...!!

On the dockside, a large sign reminded tourists of the "illegal occupation" of the Falkland Islands by the dastardly British Imperialists...!! Pablo had a few choice words to express his unhappiness with the British... "Ronnie...!!. Malvinas belong to Argentina...!!" he said, punching his chest...!!

The large motorised catamaran that we went out into the Beagle Channel on, was filled to capacity, and behind us, at least another two similar sized boats were taking on passengers as well…!!

These trips are very popular in the high season, which starts in December and runs through to the end of March… In a good year, when the weather plays ball…!!

Today was the first really sunny day Ushuaia had seen for a week or two, and although a cold wind blew most of the time, the sky remained free of cloud for most of the 5 hour trip…

Seeing a sign about the illegal occupation of the Falkland Island, or Malvinas as they are known by Argentines, we joked about hi-jacking the boat and making directly for the Islands, to hoist the Argentine flag…

“They won’t suspect a thing…!!” I urged my friends… ” We could get there, raise the flag, proclaim it for Argentina, and then be back before the dinner bell rings…!! ARE YOU WITH ME, MUCHACHOS…!!”

They were a little dubious that my cunning plan would succeed but I assured them that South Africans had a long and proud history of mercenary activities, and I was more than willing to lead the charge…

“Now there might be a bit of shooting, and some of us might die….!!” I continued, “But we do so for ARGENTINA…!!”

The thought of some “rough play” seemed to dampen their Nationalistic spirit somewhat, and they quickly changed the subject by pointing over my shoulder and saying, “Ronnie…!! Look, el faro…!”

Lighthouse at the End of the World... Also known as Les Eclaireus, guides ships through the Channel...

This conical  lighthouse is made of bricks, and stands ten metres high and 3 metres wide at the base… It is perched on the tip of a small rocky island that guards the channel and route into Ushuaia… It is unmanned and operated by remote control. It came into service in 1920, and is the most photographed lighthouse in South America…

One for the photo album... Tourists jostled each other at the railing to get a photograph of this famous landmark...

The Beagle Channel, named after the vessel HMS Beagle that carried Charles Darwin around the southern tip of South America in 1833, and up to the Galapagos Island which he made famous… The channel is 240 km long and 5 km wide at it’s narrowest point, and is dotted with many rocky and uninhabited islands, home to colonies of Sea Lions and Elephant Seals, as well as a host of bird-life, from penguins and gulls to a variety of cormorants and smaller birds…

One of the many islands that play host to colonies of cormorants and sea lions... This is Isla de Los Lobos...

The large bulls guarded their harems jealously, waddling over to spar with any other male Sea Lion that came too close...

Out boat took us in close to many of the islands to see the birds and seals that had made them home, and then we were advised to garb a cup of complimentary coffee, while our vessel took us to the penguin colony that was situated a further 25 km down the channel towards the Atlantic…

The huge catamaran rode directly up onto the beach, and again, passengers crowded the railings on both the upper and lower decks to get a look at the birds… The penguins are obviously habituated to this, as they hardly moved out of the way as the boat nosed it’s way amongst them… Some of the birds actually waddled over with beaks open, hoping to be fed, but the crew had already warned all on board that this was not allowed…

The boat "beached" itself on the shore of the penguin colony, and we were treated to close up views of these remarkable birds...

"Er... Now which is the way to my nest...??" This is a Gentoo Penguin, one of only 40 recorded on the island...

"Maybe my nest is back there somewhere...!!"

We were beached there for about 20 minutes, and saw that there were just the two species of Penguin on this particular island; the Magellanic Penguin, of which there were about 3 000 birds here; and the Gentoo Penguins, of which only 40 have been recorded here…

We were lucky enough to see three of the Gentoo Penguins wandering in amongst all the others…

We watched a few birds coming in from their fishing expeditions out in the channel… The speed with which they swim is astounding…!!

They zoom directly onto the beach, surfing the small waves and getting their webbed feet up under them at just the right moment, to allow them to waddle out of the water and onto the beach… Some did not judge things as well as they could have, and crashed into other birds who had stopped to preen themselves… It was comical at times, and had the people on board in stitches…!!

A long line of birds were marching up a path that led higher up into the dunes behind the beach… I was reminded of the “March of the Penguins” movie as we stood watching their slow progress… So ungainly on land, and yet so graceful in water…!!

Agustine promptly did what he does best when there is not much excitement on offer...!!

"Bewe understanding this sign...?? Who is Bewe, and what is he/she doing with the stairways...??"

It took a few attempts to get the boat reversed and into deeper water…. The Captain had been a little over zealous with his beaching maneuver…!!

We eventually backed off the beach, and headed back to Ushuaia… It took over an hour to reach the harbour, maybe longer, and we were lucky enough to find an empty booth in the large dining area of the boat, and took possession of it before the crowds could rush in ahead of us…

As we neared Ushuaia, we went out onto the deck to get some fresh air… And “fresh” it certainly was…!!

A cold wind was blowing down the channel, and the previously clear sky was fast filling up with ominous gray clouds…

A few of the passengers standing nearby, engaged us in conversation, asking where we had been and where we were going… The riding kit that we were wearing was vastly different to all the cold weather gear the other folk sported, and this had made us stand out from the other passengers…

Bikers on Board...!!

Dormant volcanoes line the Beagle Channel... This is on the Argentine side of Terra del Fuego...

Pablo and Augustine re-enact a scene from "The Titanic"... "Tonight I sleep with my back to the wall...!!" muttered Ezequiel...

Back on Terra Firma, we walked over to where we had parked the bikes, and then rode them over the sidewalk to where the official “Ushuaia -Fin del Mundo” sign was situated, and then had a quick photo-shoot to commemorate our success at having reached the End of the World…

I had not had a chance to take the “official” photo the previous evening, as I wanted to get off the bike as quickly as possible to give my rear tyre and shock a break…

A proud moment for Los Machos...!!

We spent the early evening shopping for souvenirs at the many outlets catering to the tourist trade… My friends had girlfriends to appease, and could afford to buy a number of things that would easily accompany them on the flight back home the following day…!! I did not have the luxury of space on my side, and had to be satisfied with a few post cards and a fridge magnet for my sister…!!

"Hey, Ronnie...!! Look... They did not spell your name in full...!!" The boys suggested I go in and ask for corrections to be made...!!

Argentina markets this place to the hilt, in many posters, referring to it as the “Gateway to Antarctica”…Which, in effect, it is… Most expeditions to the icy wastes of Antarctica begin right here in Ushuaia… The supply ships stop here to refuel and take on the scientists and other support crews who work and live at the various bases scattered along the Weddell Sea, 1200 km south of Ushuaia…

I met a biker who was considering flying his bike to Antarctica on a Russian Antanov Cargo plane out of Punta Arenas… The cost to fly both himself and his bike, was in the region of $8 000…!! Once he got there, the idea was to ride the bike down the loading ramp, and a few hundred metres along the runway, then turn around and ride it back up into the plane before flying home again…!! It would all be over in less than a day…!!

I allowed my ego to entertain the thought of joining him, but only for a few minutes, before shaking my head in the negative… I thought of all the many things I could do with $8 000, versus the “bragging rights” of being able to say that I rode the Big Fella on all seven continents…

It had never been part of “The Plan”, and to spend that much money on a single day would prevent me from reaching Alaska, and completing my ride…That was far more important to me…

I wished him “Good Luck” and walked away, before he could begin discussing the flight schedules which he had memorized…!! I knew that the longer I talked to him, the greater the urge to join him would be…!!

“You’ll never get the opportunity again, Buddy…!!” I heard him say as I hurried to catch up with my friends… I pushed my fingers into my ears and kept walking…!!

Not often you see more veggies than meat on my plate... But then the "meat" was part of a section of the "lower track" of a cow, and I was not prepared to take a bigger piece than this...!! It was soon replaced with some REAL meat,,,!!

Back at our hostel, I checked my mail and was delighted to receive a short message from Carl and Roberto, the guys whom I had left at the Chilean border the day before. It read :

“Hola Amigo…!! Where are you? We are at the Hotel Monaco, Calle San Martin.  Roberto’s bike started working just as I came back from telling you he broke down, so we were about an hour behind you at the border crossing and ended up getting into town at about 9 o´clock last night…”

I sent a reply congratulating them both for making it to Fin del Mundo, and then arranged for them to meet us for dinner at “La Gringa” a little place close to where we were staying…

After introducing Roberto and Carl to the gang, we settled down to enjoy dinner together, and exchange “war stories”… Both Roberto’s and Carl’s bikes were in need of repair after their ride down Ruta 40 and the last section of ripio leading to San Sebastian…

We arranged for them to take over the beds which would be vacated by Pablo and the boys the following day and they duly arrived early the next morning, looking rather worse for wear… They had gone to a local biker hangout, and only got in to their hotel at 7.00am…!!

I rode out to the airport to say goodbye to my Argentine buddies, after they had delivered their bikes to the transport company who would get them back to Buenos Aires “in a couple of weeks”…!! They had used up all their leave time, and could not afford to take the extra week it would have meant to ride back home…

Final coffee break at the Ushuaia Airport... I would miss my friends with whom I had shared the hardships of Ruta 40 with...

Out for the count in Ushuaia...!! Carl and Roberto catch up on some sleep after a long night on the tiles...!!

We sat drinking coffee, and once we had drained our cups, got up to say our goodbyes… Much hugging and cheek kissing, back-slapping and laughter… And then solemn handshakes and promises to meet in Buenos Aires in a weeks time…

I left them waving to me from behind the window of the departure lounge… As I rode past them, I gave a long blast of my hooter, saw them smiling back at me, and then I was away on the short trip back to town…

By the time I got back to “Laguna”, Carl and Roberto had already checked in, and were sound asleep on their beds…!! The Big Night Out had caught up with them in a Big Way…!!

Later that afternoon, we rode into town to find something to eat, Carl’s bike stalling at every intersection, and sounding for all the world like a tractor…!!

While we had been out on the boat, they had ridden into the National Park to the west of town, to get to the “official” end of the road… While crossing a wooden bridge, Carl had fallen heavily, and his engine bash plate and crash bars had been bent up against the engine…

We were not sure if there was any internal damage to the engine, but judging by the noise the motor was making, things were not all that good…!! In fact, this would be the last time that he rode the bike… The following morning, it refused to start and he gave up all hope of getting it going again, without spending a bucket of cash to do so…!!

The cost of spares and repairs here in Ushuaia is exorbitant…!! The locals trade on the fact that once you arrive with a bust bike, you had little choice but to spend whatever it took to get it going again…

One local bike shop wanted $1000 for a rear tyre, that cost less than $200 in Buenos Aires…!!

I had no intention of getting ripped off in Ushuaia, and went about preparing the Big Fella for the trip up to Buenos Aires, without troubling the local mechanics…!!

©GBWT 2012

Our ferry was due to leave Punta Arenas at 9.30am, and we still had to buy our tickets…!!

Roberto and Carl join me for breakfast...

Carl seems well pleased that we got onto the ferry without slipping on the deck plates...

If we missed this ferry, the next one was due two days later, and spending another a few days in Punta Arenas was not an option we were willing to consider…!!

Our bikes were ready and loaded before breakfast, and after wolfing down the usual coffee and “sweetbreads” we left the Hostal Ainil, and refueled at the service station around the corner… The next fuel station was on the Atlantic coast, over 225 km away, at Rio Grande…

We bought our tickets while the cars and trucks who were already lined up on the dockside when we got there, began driving onto the ferry…

We rode our bikes up onto the slippery deck and were instructed to park them at the very back of the barge… It was going to be a case of last on, last off for us…!!

We hoped our ferry, would not end up in the same position as this fishing vessel...!!

By a quirk of fate, I would be making my last ride to Ushuaia in the company of Roberto from Mexico, and Carl from the United States... We lined up on the upper deck of the ferry for a quick photo-shoot... Roberto was feeling the cold more than most...!!

Carolina Guzman and her daughters kept us company on the ferry ride to Porvenir...

We were joined on the upper deck by Carolina and her daughters, and we chatted amongst ourselves for the duration of the two hour voyage across the Straits of Magellan, to Porvenir…

The first part of the crossing was made on flat seas, and then things got a bit more interesting… The ferry plowed into rougher waters in the middle of the channel and began heaving it’s way over the swells…

It had been cold to begin with, and we were all wrapped up against the elements… Then as we neared Terra del Fuego, the island that is shared by both Chile and Argentina, it began to snow…!! The flakes drifted down around us, melting as soon as they landed on the deck….

The little flurry did not last long, but certainly had us wondering exactly what lay ahead of us on the ride across to the Atlantic Coast…

A large contingent of Chilean soldiers had made the trip over with us, and when we landed, they gathered their kit and set off into the hinterland… I think they were out on some kind of military exercise….or planning to take back the part of the island that had been given to Argentina by the Pope, many hundreds of years ago…!!

We rode into Porvenir, a run down little fishing village, with old buildings and very little to recommend it by… We found the correct road that would lead us directly east across Terra del Fuego, and set out to do battle with the ripio… We had 160 km of dirt road to cover, across one of the most inhospitable parts of the southern tip of the continent…

Windswept, cold and bleak... And to make things worse, it began to rain...!!

The first half hour, was probably the most uncomfortable part of the ride across to the Chilean border… It drizzled for awhile, and I was sure it was going to snow at some point… It was quite cold too, and a strong wind was blowing off the sea and across the road…

Once we had cleared the narrow coast road that afforded some spectacular views, and began inching our way inland, the weather improved dramatically… No more rain, and just a light wind that blew off the sea… The sun even came out at times to help us choose the right lines on the gravel roads…

The clouds begin rolling back as we negotiate the gravel roads to San Sebastian and the Chilean border with Argentina...

Roberto's Dakar had carried him all the way from the Mexican coastal town of Carmen del Playa to Terra del Fuego, but there was trouble brewing...!!

This Guanaco galloped along the fence at a pretty good clip, keeping up with us for a while before stopping to catch it's breath...

I had been taking the lead, with Carl in very close attendance, and Roberto usually nowhere in sight… He rode very carefully on the gravel, and his Dakar looked to be heavily loaded…

Carl, who had ridden dirt bikes since he was two bricks and a pee-pot high, was more than comfortable on the ripio, and he and I tore along at about 75 km/h for most of the ride…

We stopped at a cross road to wait for Roberto, who duly arrived, sporting his usual grin…!! He is a fun guy, and cracks almost as many jokes as that other rider… You know….what-his-name….!!

We stood chatting about the little fox we had all seen a few hundred metres back, the first bit of wild-life we had encountered so far that morning… There were many small herds of Guanaco roaming about, and naturally, thousands of sheep…!!

We set off again, this time Carl leading… We saw an ambulance trundling towards us, and slowed down to let it pass us by without mishap… I stole a quick glance at the driver, and saw that he was clutching the steering, grim-faced and tight-jawed… I figured he did not enjoy riding the big ambulance on gravels roads and then went back to concentrating on finding the right lines to ride in…

A short distance later, another ambulance came over a rise and headed towards us… This time the driver waved to show us to slow down… His light were off and he was clearly in no hurry to get wherever it was he was heading… The area we were riding through was bleak and barren… We had not seen any other vehicles for some time, and certainly no form of habitation at all…

We came over a steep rise, and in the valley ahead of us, the road stretched out dead straight… I could see what I thought was a red car parked on the side of the road, far ahead, and when we drew closer, saw that the car had actually rolled, and come to a stop back on it’s wheels…  Carl stopped to take a closer look… I stopped too, about fifty yards short of the red pick-up truck… I recalled the two ambulances we had passed, and instinctively knew the reason they were traveling so slowly with their sirens and flashing lights off…

The ripio had claimed the lives of two more travelers, who had tempted fate by driving too fast on a treacherous surface...

The occupants had very little chance of survival... We could see where one body had been dragged clear of the wreckage, and came to rest in the middle of the road...

We got off our bikes to take a closer look at the wreckage… I am not sure why we did this, because both of us later confessed to never stopping to look at car crashes, preferring to look the other way rather than be reminded of what could happen out on the roads…

Maybe it was the large pool of blood in the middle of the road, or the rain water puddle now running red with blood and brain matter that shocked us into stopping…

It was one of the most sobering sights I have seen on my journey thus far… At first we didn’t say a word to each other, although I muttered a few “Oh my God’s”, while I walked around the wreckage…

When the vehicle had rolled, it had flipped onto it’s roof, which had then caved in, crushing the skulls of the two occupants, and strewing their contents over the back seats…

No other vehicle was involved… It seemed that the driver was going far too fast and lost control… The road was covered in marble-sized gravel, which shot out from under your tyres when you rode over it…

“This happened a very short while ago,” I said to Carl, who just nodded, the shock of what we were looking at still written on his face…

“If we hadn’t stopped to take a break earlier on, this guy might have hit us…!!” he later said… And he was probably right…

“Ok, Carl, we’ve seen enough, let’s get away from here…!!” I said, walking over to the Big Fella… We mounted up and rode slowly away… I let Carl ease out ahead of me, waiting for the wind to blow his dust away so that I could see the road ahead as clearly as possible…

I muttered a brief prayer for the people who had been in the red pick-up, crossing myself as I did so, and asking the Powers that be to keep watching over me…

High adventure junkie, Ruth, who had just ski-ed to the South Pole...!!

We were both riding slower now, careful to stick to our side of the road, rather than riding down the centre as we had been earlier… The steep rises now held a danger that we had barely considered before, the corners seemed littered with more stones than I had noticed before, the wind seemed to be blowing harder, making it difficult to stand up on the pegs…

Maybe all these things were just in my imagination, but the whole ride changed from that moment on… The sight of the accident seemed to have knocked our confidence and cockiness back a peg, and we took the next section to the crossroads leading to Cerro Sombrero, more carefully…

I took a long look up the road that led north, imagining my three friends from Buenos Aires riding down towards me on their way to Ushuaia… They had come down this road just a few days before, and were now no doubt celebrating their arrival at Fin Del Mundo…

We arrived at the Chilean Border post about three hours after setting out from Porvenir… The last 60 km had been rocky and dust-filled… There was much more traffic on this section of road, as many vehicles, including large trucks and tourist coaches used this stretch before turning north for Cerro Sombrero and the Argentine border…

While we waited for Roberto, we met Ruth, an unassuming American girl, who had just returned from the South Pole…!! She nonchalantly informed us that she had taken 38 days to ski to the pole, and while she was there, scaled four, as yet unnamed peaks…!! She went on to say that she had now achieved “the double”, having made it to the North Pole the year before…!!

Carl and I looked at each other in silence for a while, before I said,

“Ok, that’s it…!! I’m packing up and going home…!! Thank you very much Ruth…!! You’ve ruined our day…!!”

We laughed and joked about her achievements, and she very graciously told us that she wished she could do what we were doing…!! She promised to send me details of her blog so that I could post them on my own website… I felt that her story was one that would inspire people around the world, and she deserved as much recognition as possible for the amazing feats that she had achieved…

“I’d rather be with you guys than stuck on this bus for the next few days…!!” she said, pointing to the huge luxury bus which she was heading to Buenos Aires on…

Carl stands in front of "Roberto's Puddle"... He used the dirty water from this to wash the battery acid off his engine...!! Carl and I were dumbfounded...!!

Roberto duly arrived, complaining that his bike was cutting out on him… He peered under his petrol tank and discovered that his battery had burst…!! The acid was running over the electrical wiring that hung down below the battery, and before Carl and I could stop him, he proceeded to scoop up rain water from a large puddle we were parked next to, and throw it all over the battery and the engine…!!

“That should sort it out…!!” he said with conviction… Carl and I just looked at each other and burst out laughing…!!

“That’s how they do it in Mexico, man…!!” Carl spluttered…

Dream in sight...!! The sign at the Argentine border told us all we needed to know... We were only hours away from our destination...!!

I took off in the lead, telling Carl and Roberto that I would meet them at the Argentine Border, about 15 km away… In my side mirrors, I saw them get onto their bikes and make to follow me… I stood up on the pegs to negotiate the gravel, and did not look back again until I reached the border… Neither Carl nor Roberto were in sight…!!

I waited awhile and then went into the immigration office to avoid the huge busload of folk who were just pulling up… Half an hour later, while I was still standing in the queue, Carl came bustling through the doorway to the immigration hall…

“Dude…!!” he shouted over the heads of the many people there, “Roberto’s bike won’t start…!! He is stuck where you left us…!! I am going back to look for a truck to take his bike back to Punta Arenas…!! You go ahead and we’ll see you in Ushuaia…!!”

The Province of Terra Del Fuego... And the End of the World...!!

I stood dumbstruck by the news….!! We were so close to realizing our individual dreams and now this…!! I wasn’t sure what I should do…

I was really stoked at the thought of getting to Ushuaia… This was the day I had been palnning and waiting for, for what seemed like months…!! There were basically only two options available to me right then…

Go back with Carl and help Roberto; or push on alone…

We were riding together after all, even though it had been for just a few hours… We had teamed up that morning, and despite the fact that we hardly knew each other, we were already firm friends… The unwritten “Biker’s Code” said “Stick Together, No Matter What !!…

My Argentine buddies were waiting for me in Ushuaia, and had arranged a room for the night for me… I wanted to enjoy their last day in Ushuaia with them, which would be the following day… The day after that, they would fly back to Buenos Aires after putting their bikes on a truck bound for home…

If I went back and helped Roberto, I might not reach Ushuaia for a few days yet… Not seeing Los Machos again would be a bitter pill to swallow…!! We had ridden Ruta 40 together, and forged a strong bond that only a tough ride like that could make in such a short space of time…

Carl sensed my indecision, and told me not to worry, that he and Roberto would get it all sorted out somehow…

I smiled ruefully across to him and said,

“Thanks Buddy….!! I really need to get there today…!!”

I was grateful that he had ridden all the way across to the border post to let me know what the situation was… He would now have to ride the 15 km back to the Chilean side, on a road that was covered in gravel and in a wind that was beginning to pick up and blow strongly across the open plains of Terra del Fuego…

When I went back to the Big Fella, I noticed that my rear shock had finally burst it’s seals, and oil was leaking all over the damper control knob… The last few coils of the spring were covered in oil too… I now knew why the bike had been handling so differently over the last fifty or sixty kilometres…!!

I left the border and rode directly onto the tarred surface of Ruta 3, bound for the town of Rio Grande… The wind tore at me all the way there, pushing us all over the road… Powerful gusts plucked at the Big Fella, who without any shock absorption to speak of, felt almost twice as heavy…

I took a short break at this roadsign, to consider and savour the moment I had been waiting for...!!

I hung on grimly, determined to get through the final 300 km to Ushuaia despite the conditions and the fact that it was now already 5.00 pm… The road ran south, hugging the cold Atlantic Ocean, passing a few Estancias or farms, where large flocks of sheep grazed, their heads tucked down to avoid the wind…

"C'mon GB...!! Stop fooling around, I'm as keen as you are to get this over with...!!"

It felt as though the Big Fella was dragging his rear end, and I began wondering if there was more to this than just a broken shock… When I got to Rio Grande, I wondered no more…!! My rear tyre was almost flat…!! The plug that Pablo and I had repaired the puncture in Rio Mayo with, had been battered by the ripio, and was leaking…!!

I refueled, pumped the rear tyre as hard as I dared, and then made a dash for Ushuaia, now 215 km away…

I made it as far as Tolhuin, on the western edge of Lago Fagnano, and had to pull into a service station to pump the tyre again…The bike was wallowing through the corners, the back end feeling as though it was “skipping”…

I was torn between riding slowly and carefully, and running the risk of the tyre deflating completely before I reached Ushuaia, or, riding as quickly as possible in the hope of reaching town with some air left to find a service station…

Riding the Big Fella without a rear shock and a fast deflating rear tyre, was like trying to fly a a brick out-house in a gale…!! (which I am reliably told, is a difficult thing to do…!!)

The closer I got to Ushuaia, the less I thought about the problems I was having, and the more I began to consider what I was about to achieve… I even stopped to take a photo of the “102 km to go” sign, smiling to myself as I walked around the bike…

The final stretch ran through a mountain range, that had the road twisting and turning, climbing high and then dropping down again… The surface was smooth for the most part, ripped up and crumbling in others, and non-existent where road crews were laying down new asphalt… These un-tarred sections, mostly only a few hundred metres long, had me standing up on the pegs to take the strain off the rear end of the bike…

The two massive portals that welcome visitors to the town of Ushuaia, came into view as we rode down a long, steep and curving part of Ruta 3… I whooped with joy as I slowed down at the police checkpoint just inside the city limits…

The policeman on duty had probably seen it all before…hundreds of times in fact, and with a wide smile, waved me through without asking to see my documentation…!!

"Did you miss me, Guys...??" The Big Fella is reunited with his mates from Ruta 40... The leaking plug on the rear tyre, would need fixing in a hurry...!!

I made my way across town, to the address that I had plugged into the GPS while waiting for Roberto and Carl at the Border…

Ushuaia is wedged between the very southern limits of the Andes Mountain range and the Beagle Channel… Snow covers the mountain tops all year round, and even in Summer, large patches of it cling to the steep folds and upper valleys of these mountains… There is almost always a cold wind blowing, and it is more often cloudy than not… Hardly the place you’d want to spend a vacation…!!

Satellite image of Ushuaia... The point to where you can ride your bike is up against the Chilean border, past the little hamlet of Lapataia...

With four guys sharing a room, packing space was always going to be at a premium...!!

That said however, thousands of tourists visit here every year… The lure of being able to journey to The End of the World is a strong one, and for many Argentinians, it is almost like a rite of passage…

It was after 8.00 pm as I rode through the quiet streets, which in the area furthest away from the sea, are made from rough concrete slabs… With a fast deflating rear tyre, it felt as though I was back on a ripio, and I gritted my teeth at the noise coming up from the back of the bike…

I finally located the Hostal de la Laguna, and found my friends waiting for me outside… It was a joyful reunion, made more so by the bottle of red wine I produced from one of my bags to celebrate with…

The landlady produced a few glasses, and we toasted each other as we stood in the public dining area…

Augustin then informed me that there was a small problem with the accommodation…!! The room they were in only had three beds in it, and there was no other rooms available until a few days later…!!

“Corina,” he said, indicating the smiling landlady behind us, “says she is willing to allow us to put a mattress down on the floor in the room if that is O.K. with you…!!”

“No problemo, mi Amigo,” I replied, “Let’s go see the room…!!”

The room was a lot smaller than I thought it would be…!! There was a double bunk in one corner and another single bed adjacent to it…

A gap on the far side of the single bed, and under the window sill, allowed just about enough space for a single mattress to be put down… Once this was in place, there was hardly any floor space left in the room, and for the next few days, we would stumble over each other and kit strewn all over the place, just to get to our beds…

But I didn’t give a hoot right then…! I had made it to Ushuaia, and that’s all that counted…!!

A bed on the floor is better than no bed at all...!!

I sent a text message to Patricia who was waiting in New Jersey with a bottle of champagne on ice… When she heard that I had made it safely to Fin del Mundo, the cork was popped and together with her family, they drank a toast to me, and to the New York Giants who had just made it into the playoffs for this year’s Superbowl…!!

Later that evening, the four of us walked up to a nearby restaurant, and celebrated with a few bottles of beer… The Philistines, Pablo and Agustine, still mixing theirs with Fanta Orange…!!

I looked around at my friends as we ate and drank… We were all smiling broadly, and even though they had reached Ushuaia a day before me, they were still just as excited as I was, perhaps feeding off my own emotions…

We all seemed to sit and walk taller, talk a little louder…

I remembered then how I had celebrated reaching Nordkapp in August 2010, alone in a little wooden cabin in a small town called Skipsfjord…The wind had been howling there too, and it was even colder than it it was here in Ushuaia…!!

This celebration was a very different experience, shared with a special band of fellow bikers, who with me, had battled down Ruta 40 to get here… We had all proved something to ourselves and each other…

Our bond was set in stone…

I felt a great deal of satisfaction as I sat there… I had ridden my bike to both the “Top” and the “Bottom of the World”…

I felt as though I had turned the last corner of my ride around it…

It was all UP from here…!!

©GBWT 2012

…that at 8.15 pm, today the 15th of January 2012, a determined man, and his eager machine, reached “Fin del Mundo”, The End of the World…!!

USHUAIA…!!

Yet another dream realised, another milestone reached on the Gypsy Biker World Tour…!!

We've made it...!! The Gypsy Biker and the Big Fella, a proud moment for both...!!

This one will be remembered for the adverse weather conditions we faced today, the new friends I made; Carl from Virgina, U.S.A., and Roberto from Mexico, whose bike broke down at the Chilean border, and had to be taken back to Punta Arenas…

He was just 303 km from the end of his journey which began in Mexico… I hope he gets his Dakar F650 sorted soon and makes another attempt to get to Ushuaia… You can’t turn back now, Roberto…!!

I too faced mechanical problems… My rear shock burst it’s seals, and the puncture we repaired last week came back to haunt me…

The day was also tinged with tragedy… Carl and I came upon  an accident that had happened perhaps an hour before we got there… The ambulances had passed us only minutes before, riding slowly towards us on the 150 km of gravel road that runs from Pornevir in Chile, to San Sebastian in Argentina…

The Patagonian ripio had claimed two more lives today…

It’s been a day to remember…

GB

Ushuaia, Argentina.

“Fin del Mundo”, is just one ride away…!!

But it could have been a world away if the wind that tormented me for most of the ride had got it’s wicked way…!!

As we cleared El Calafate, Gi-Gi gleefully advised that we had a mere 1000 km to go before reaching Ushuaia... As if that was something to celebrate...!!

We had hardly cleared the outskirts of El Calafate, when a seriously strong wind got up to greet us…!! This was the part I had been dreading all along… I had heard hundreds of horror stories about bikes being blown off the road; gear that had not been tied on properly, ripped from its moorings; and bikers that had been turned back by winds they were no longer prepared to face…

The first 95 km to the little estancia of El Cerrito on Ruta 5 were tough, strong winds blew in from the foothills of the Andes to the west of us, whistling over my right shoulder and pushing the bike off line from time to time…

At El Cerrito, I took the turnoff onto the ripio shortcut, that would save me about 80 km, but might cost me far more than that in stress and heartache… Or so Pablo had warned me…!!

I sat the bike for awhile, feeling the wind trying to push the bike over… I carefully dismounted, all the while holding onto the left grip to make sure it did not fall over…

When I was satisfied that it would not be blown arse over kettle, over, I quickly walked a few metres away to take a photo of the sign that showed I had but 70 km of ripio to deal with before we tasted tar again… The surface ahead looked pretty much the same that we had dealt with on the road from Gregores to Tres Lagos…

Loose gravel scattered across from side to side, with a little extra piles here and there to keep you focused… With a muttered “nothing from nothing, leaves nothing…” I let the clutch out and began the ride…

We stopped to access the conditions... I had been warned to take great care on this "shortcut"...

The first 20 km to Rio Pelque, which is nothing but a police outpost, went well enough… The wind was steady, and I was able to ride standing up on the pegs… The last 50 km were something else…!!

With no place to hide, the wind had it's merry way with us...

Not only was I pushed around by strong gusts of wind, but I also had to contend with small flocks of sheep, that ran panicking across the road in front of me, sometimes missing my front wheel by only a few feet… When you are doing 65 km/h on loose gravel, this is not something you will find pleasant to deal with… Much profanity made no difference to them at all… I took to blowing long blasts on my hooter from as far away as possible, to clear the roadside out in front of us…

I stopped twice to take a breather, enjoying the scenery of rolling hills and neat little valleys…It was at these times that I was very conscious of how alone I was out there… I had not passed a single car in the first 60 km of this section of road… It was bleak and desolate…

It's a long and dusty road... The wind howled across the plains, plucking at my jacket and constsntly upsetting my balance...

The last 10 km of gravel were probably the worst… The surface was far rockier, and I could feel my rear shock taking a pounding… In some places, the wind was too strong to allow me to stand up on the pegs, and as a result, I often strayed offline and into the loose gravel, or over rocks that I ordinarily would have avoided…

The little store at Tapi Aike... They sell a few basic commodities, and dispense assistance to travelers...!!

I brightened up what would otherwise have been a boring day for these two guys...!!

By the time I finally reached the tar again at the little hamlet of Tapi Aike, I was just about done in…!! The place consisted of a large police outpost, and a few houses… Across the road from this was a small store that also served as a petrol station…

I parked the bike, and then staggered through the door with a loud cry of “Mierde…!!”

This got the two guys inside laughing, and for the next few minutes I pantomimed what a hard time I had just had…

This had me smiling...!! A chocolate with a name like "Rhodesia"...!! I haven't seen it anywhere else, but here in the little outpost of Tapi Aike...

This practically had them rolling on the floor…Which I found rather disconcerting, considering the effort I was making to describe the gravity of the situation…!!

My performance did however get me two cups of coffee for free…!! They refused to accept payment when I turned to leave…!! Clearly they had not had any form of entertainment for some time…!!

Just as I was about to leave, one of them hurried outside and indicated to me that my rear tyre was flat… The jolting that the bike had taken on the ripio, must have either loosened the plug that we had inserted a few days before, or I had damaged the rim somehow which allowed air to escape…

They brought out a portable compressor and we re-inflated the tyre… There was no more gravel roads to deal with all the way to Punta Arenas, so I had it pumped to it’s maximum… Which was not a very clever move as I was to find out a few minutes later…

And I had to cope with sections of road that were potholed and broken up in places...!!

The last section of Ruta 40, leading to the Chilean border was one of the scariest rides I have ever made…!! The wind blew so hard, that on a number of occasions I was pushed to the far shoulder of the road, and had to come to a dead stop to prevent myself and the bike from going over the edge and into the scrub on the shoulders…!!

This meant that I stopped in the face of oncoming traffic, and had to hold up mu hand to show them I was in trouble, and pray that they would see me in time to slow down and allow me to get back onto the right side of the road again…!!

My arms ached from holding the bike up, and my back was going to spasm… I had pumped my tyres too hard for these conditions, and there was too little rubber making contact with the road surface… The wind made riding more like skating…!!

Two bikers that I would meet later that same evening, and who had ridden the same road just an hour or so before me, suggested that the wind had been gusting at between 100 and 120 km/h…!!

I stopped at the head of a valley that gave us a little protection from the wind, and got off the bike to stretch my back and massage my arms… I had covered barely 200 km, and was already knackered… It took me over four hours to get to the Chilean border…

At this point, I was considering stopping in Puerto Natales, rather than continue riding all the way to Punta Arenas...

How I made it to the border at Rio Turbio without mishap is beyond me… My jaw ached so badly from the clenching it had done since Tapi Aike, that when I got off the bike, I found it difficult to speak…!!

The Argentine border post at Rio Turbio... The wind was blowing papers all over the place, sending folks scrambling for their immigration forms....

I did not need this wind sock to tell me which direction the wind was blowing...!!

I groaned aloud when I saw this sign as I entered Chile... Punta Arenas seemed a very long way away...!!

I got through the Argentine side relatively quickly, and then rode the few kilometres to the Chilean Immigration control post, where I spent a long time chatting to the gate guards and taking a breather…

The wind in Chile, once we crossed the low range of mountains that run down to the Pacific Ocean, blew with less velocity than it had on the Argentine side of the border…

This was scant relief, as it still blew too strong for my liking…!!

I rode to Puerto Natales, about 15 km off my route, ostensibly to refuel, but also to consider whether or not I should ride on to Punta Arenas…

Then I remembered that there was no ferry on Monday to take us across to Terra del Fuego, and I had no option but to ride to Punta Arenas if I was to get the Sunday morning ferry…

"Never mind that...!! How about "Fin Wind", dammit...!!"

"No worries, Amigo...!! In this wind I would not consider passing a horse-drawn cart...!!"

With that little decision made for me, I booted the Big Fella into gear and set out to battle the wind again…

The road in Chile was concreted, rather than tarred, and perhaps I imagined that I had more grip, because I rode much faster, despite the strong winds, and made good time, Nickelback blasting through my speakers, and a determined set to my body language…

I was not about to let the wind get the better of me… Not with my destination so close at hand… I kept reminding myself and the Big Fella that there was just one more ride after this to get to Fin del Mundo, and this seemed to spur us both on…

I had to stop when a large flock of sheep, herded by two gauchos on horseback, wandered too close to the edge of the road for comfort…

The dogs assisting them sensed that the sheep were in danger, and ran out onto the road in front of me to shivvy them back onto the verge… I sat watching them for a few minutes, marveling at the control the dogs and the gauchos exercised over the hundreds of sheep in their care…

Gauchos and their dogs at work... Great to watch...!!

Later that evening, I would meet Roberto from Mexico, but for the time being, I was intent on getting to Punta in one piece...

A brief rain shower drove me off the road and into the relative comfort of a small roadside shop that sold coffee to passing travelers… I waited until the clouds laden with rain had passed over, before venturing out again…

Back on the road, I passed a biker in a cut-off leather jacket, riding a battered BMW 650 GS, and waved as I thundered past him…

Just as I entered Puerto Arenas, I passed another biker on a KLR 650, which looked in even worse condition…!! One look told me that they had been riding ripio, and probably down Ruta 40 at that…

The ferry that crosses the Strait of Magellan to Terra del Fuego... I would be on it the next morning....

I wanted to be sure of getting a ticket for the ferry that crossed to Porvenir the following morning, and went down to the terminal to see if I could pre-book a space… I was told that tickets were only sold an hour or so before the ferry left, and then made my way into town to look for a place to stay…

After cruising around for some time, and finding most of the places I tried full, I finally discovered the Hostal Ainil, which was as comfortable as any I had stayed in before… Although my room was ultra small, it was just outside a large lounge area, where I ended up storing most of my stuff…

The Hostal Ainil, tucked away in a quiet side street in Punta Arenas...

There was only one other couple staying in the annex that I was in, which was on the property next to the main house…

While I was updating my blog, I met Carolina Guzman, a lady from Santiago in Chile, who was visiting Punta Arenas with her daughters… She was an architect and artist, who worked in a wide range of mediums…

We sat chatting for hours, and she later went out and bought the makings of great dinner which we shared in the common dining area… The salad that Carolina made was washed down with a fine bottle of Gracia de Chile Reserva, a great Cabernet Sauvignon…

When I went out earlier, while Carolina was out shopping, I saw two bikes parked next to the Big Fella, and saw that it was the same two guys I had passed earlier… Roberto was a Mexican who lived near Cancun, and had ridden all the way from there on his way to Ushuaia. Carl, an American from Virginia, had taken a year off college and decided to ride his bike down the length of Central and South America…

They had first met in Peru and then again in Santiago, and since then had ridden together…

And then there were three...

The dinner Carolina prepared for us went down a treat... The bottle of great red wine added to the enjoyment...!!

We were all headed for Ushuaia, and would be together on the only ferry the following morning… It made perfect sense to ride together and after arranging to meet for breakfast at 8 am the following morning, we retired for the night…

We had little information about the condition of the ripio on the Chilean side of Terra del Fuego, but knew that it was about 160 km from Porvenir where the ferry landed, to San Sebastion where we would hook up with Ruta 3 for the final 300 km dash to Fin del Mundo…

Carolina and her daughters were going to be on the same ferry, and would be doing a little sight-seeing in Porvenir… I wondered what they would find to do there, and they seemed to have little idea themselves, but staying around in Punta Arenas for another day did not seem a great option to them…

The place couldn’t be all bad, because earlier in the afternoon, I had seen posters advertising the imminent arrival of “Sting”, who was due to perform two concerts at the local Casino…!! It was hard to believe that an international act would come all the way down here to perform…!!

Nearly there...!!

I fell asleep thinking about the next day’s ride… I remembered the excitement I had felt before the final ride up to Nordkapp in August 2010, and now I was almost at the other end of the world, as far south as the Big Fella could go…

It had been a long hard dash from Santiago, and now I was finally in touching distance…

I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise…!!

©GBWT 2012

After our difficult time out on the road the previous day, my Argentinian friends were ready to hit the road again…

Breakfasts like this, I can work with....!!

El Calafate has a long and proud history, which tourists and Argentinians alike come to explore...

I thought they might want to have a rest day, but they were on a tight schedule… They had booked their tickets to fly from Ushuaia back to Buenos Aires on the 17th of January, and wanted to make sure their bikes were loaded onto a truck heading north, before they boarded their flight…

There was also a long list of things they planned to do once they reached Ushuaia…

Augustin went out and bought breakfast for us, which as usual, consisted of a large quantity of “sweet breads”… We sat around the kitchen table for the last time, reminiscing about the last few days we had spent together, and the long and hard rides we had shared…

We had formed a strong bond during those rides, and neither of us wanted to see it come to an end… They asked me to ride with them all the way to Ushuaia, and at one point I actually agreed, but minutes later, I changed my mind, much to their disappointment…

I had a number of reasons for doing this, the most pressing being that I wanted to write about the rides we had made down Ruta 40, and our experiences on the ripio… We had had no internet signal for three full days, and then had planned and executed a number of rides once we got to El Calafate, which did not leave me any time to work on my website…

I was also very aware of the fact that this was an adventure that they had dreamed and planned for a long time… One they had set out to do as a trio of good buddies… I had never been part of their plans, just as they had never been part of mine… I felt that I was somehow “intruding” on their dream…

I remember Pablo once leaning across the table to me and in his best Spanglish, saying,

“Ronnie….!! Before we start this, it was big adventure for us… Muy big…!! Then we meet Ronnie… Now, it is nothing…!!”

I knew he meant it as a joke, comparing what they were doing to what I had already achieved, but his comment struck home… This was one of the biggest things they might ever do with their lives, this was their very own “Che Guevera” ride, an experience which would set them apart from many of their friends back home… I would want them to be talking about their own experiences, rather than relating stories about the guy they had met, whose ride overshadowed their own…

Their dream was to reach Ushuaia and Fin del Mundo… I felt that it was appropriate that they complete their dream just as they had planned it… They deserved nothing less… I did not want to steal any part of their thunder…

I also did not want to follow the same route back as I would have down, and that was why I wanted to take the longer route via Punta Arenas in Chile…

We packed our bikes and then Augustin led me through the town to a hostel which Carolina had arranged for me… Before I left, there was much hugging and cheek kissing, something I had gotten used to here in South America…

We promised to meet up in Ushuaia in a few days time, and share a celebratory drink or ten, and then we parted…

Great place to stay if you're traveling on a limited budget...

I spent the next few days struggling to get my Sim card sorted out which turned out to be a complete waste of time… My laptop also began “acting the goat”, constantly hanging and then refusing to restart… After two years of shake, rattle and the occasional roll, I think it has decided to give up the ghost…!!

The Lago Argentino Hostal was a great place to stay… The owners were super friendly, the internet signal strong, and a constant string of interesting people came and went while I was there… Most of them were French speaking hikers and trekkers, with the odd German couple putting in an appearance…

I usually had the public area to myself for most of the day...

Sign placed on the door of the refrigerator... I would also be "throwing up" any food that had been left there for any length of time...!!

While my laptop was on the blink, I rode around town, seeing some of the sights and looking for fuel… The town had run dry again, and both service stations were waiting for their tankers to arrive, which they finally did at about 10 pm on the Friday night… A long queue immediately formed at the pumps, and stretched at least half a kilometre down the road…

I was not prepared to sit out in the cold and inch my way along until I could get fuel, and decided to try my luck early the following morning, which worked out just fine in the end…

I rode along the shores of Lagos Argentina, stopping often to watch the water fowl and other birds feeding in the shallows…

Flocks of Flamingos sifted through the silt in the shallows...

He always wanted to be one...!! Shameless self promotion, I say...!!

I chatted to a few bikers who I bumped into while I strolled or rode through town, trying to find out if any of them were riding north, and had come from Ushuaia…

Most of them were heading south, following the same route as my friends… They all wanted no more gravel road riding, and had chosen the road along the Atlantic Ocean to get them to Fin del Mundo…

I spoke to a German rider who had got as far as south as Puerto Natales, and then turned around and headed back north… He had battled high winds and finally decided that he wanted safer conditions to ride in, rather than risk himself and his bike…

I found it hard to believe that he had turned back just 700 km short of his goal…!! But then I discovered that he had rented the bike in Buenos Aires and his desire to reach Fin del Mundo was not half as strong as mine, or many of the other riders I had met…

Still, his warnings about the high winds stuck in my mind, and made me more than a little concerned at what I was letting myself in for…

When my computer did eventually boot up again, I checked the route I had planned again, wondering if the short cut across 90 km of gravel to bypass Esperanza, on my own, was a such good idea…!!

I decided to stick to my plan and concentrate more on riding confidently and well, than worrying about what might happen out on the road…

While I was packing and getting my gear ready to be taken out to the bike, the manager of the hostal came over to see me, carrying a huge piece of chocolate cake on a plate….

“Ronnie, Amigo…!! It is my birthday today, and I want you to share some cake with me and my family…!! Tomorrow morning you will leave us and we will not see each other again…!! Today you must join us to celebrate and so that we can wish you well on your journey…!!”

I stood watching his wife, their children and a few of their close friends enjoying the weak sunlight in their back garden… They asked me many questions about my trip, and by relating a few of the rides I had already made, I felt my confidence being boosted by their appreciation for how far I had come, and what I had achieved…

I went back to my room to resume my packing, with a large smile on my face…

I knew that I would deal with whatever the forces of nature were about to throw at me…

I had not come this far to be turned back…!!

©GBWT 2012

"Excuse me waiter, but do you really think this is enough meat for four growing boys...??"

Will somebody please remind me what the hell I am doing down here….!!!

Pablo has a "side stand incident"....

We took a 430 km round trip to another section of the Glacier National park today, and got hammered by winds that gusted to over 100 km/h….!!

If I had a needle with me, or could find a sharp stick that had not been blown to kingdom come, I would have happily poked myself in the eye, just to have a little fun…!!

It all began last night, while we were wolfing down another huge platter of meat at a local eatery in El Calafate…

Augustine, having supposedly gleaned some “good information” from some local, suggested we ride to a place called El Chalten to see the mountains other sights out there…

“Eet is muy beeootifull, Amigos…!!” he had told us…

The following morning, dressed as warmly as we thought was necessary, considering we had been experiencing good weather for the last few days, we prepared to set off…

Things got off to a bad start right off the bat…!!

As Pablo tried to mount his bike, the bloody thing slipped out of his hands and fell over, just missing Ezekiel’s foot, who was already sitting on his own bike…

El Chalten would prove to be more than just "a liitle outride to kill some time"... It would be the longest ride I had ever made from a "base".... Usually, I did not bother to ride more than a 200 km round trip to see something of interest...

We rode back along the route on which we had entered El Calafate on, and then turned west along the northern edges of Lagos Argentino… The wind was blowing fairly hard at this point, and when we turned north again to ride across the wide flat plain towards Luz Divina and La Leona, it became a lot stronger, blowing our bikes all over the road…!!

Crossing this bridge over the Rio La Leona, I came close to hitting the barrier on the opposite side of the road...!!

My friends were struggling more than I was on their lighter bikes, and I found that I had more control at higher speeds than they could ride… I indicated that I would wait for them at the next turnoff, and nudged the Big Fella up to over 100 km/h and got my shoulder into the wind…

The scenery here in Patagonia has a special beauty all of it's own... Dark clouds, blue sky, and a wide open plain were often what we saw on our rides through this area...

Up ahead of me I could see that light rain was falling… It was very localized; a light shower here, a gentle drizzle in other places off the north and patches of bright sunlight in-between… I took a chance and rode through one shower after another, believing that I would not get too wet if I thundered through them and into the sunlight beyond, and I was mostly right…. Mostly…

One particular shower covered an area some 3 km wide, and by the time I got through to the other side, I was soaking wet… This together with the cold wind, had me shivering uncontrollably for a few minutes, until the wind dried most of my riding gear…

Did I forget to mention that it was also raining...!! Well it was...and that made what were already difficult conditions to begin with, almost impossible to ride in...!!

I am not sure when last it had rained here, but I do know that the water had lifted the oily residue for the previous dry season up onto the surface, and in some corners, I had very little traction… It was like riding on soap…!! Something we bikers try to avoid at all costs…!!

Told you it was windy...!!

We took the turnoff that skirts the northern edge of Lagos Viedma, and if anything, the wind coming off the lake was even stronger than that which we had experienced before… I had to slow the bike right down to cope with the strong gusts that blew off the lake and across the Ruta 23…

Up ahead I could the foothills of the Andes that guard the little town of El Chalten, and off to my left I saw the massive Viedma Glacier that marched down into the lake…

I was far ahead of my companions by then, each of us dealing with the wind in our own way… I knew Pablo would have one foot off the pegs, ready to prop himself up if the bike went down; Augustin would probably be riding too fast in the conditions with his light bike; and Ezekiel would be gritting his teeth and toughing it out on his little 250 cc….!!

After 215 km of high winds, rain and bitter cold, I arrived in El Chalten.... The town lay at the end of a long valley, through which the Rio Fitz Roy gurgled...

Once I got in among the mountains, I received a little protection from the wind, and I cruised down the final long narrow valley and into Town, my heart rate slowing down as I did so…

I refueled, holding the bike up in the wind, fearful that it would blow over while the young lady filled the tank… Then I trundled the Big Fella over to the cafe alongside the service station and parked him out of the strong wind…

The tallest peak in the region, Mt. Fitz Roy, remained stubbornly hidden by cloud while we took a few photos of the town...

Ezekiel arrived about 10 minutes later, shaking his head in annoyance at having to battle the way we did to get there… The others arrived a long time after that… We sat sipping coffee, and requested that Augustine tell us again why in God’s name we had ridden all the way out here…!! He just smiled tiredly at us, unable to give us the cocky answer that we had expected…

The Big Fella seemed quite proud to have got here without kissing the tar...!!

El Chelten is a very popular hiking destination… Young and old alike were either returning from a long hike in the mountains, or getting their kit together to set off… I did not envy them one little bit, and if this was the summer weather they would be hiking in, I would hate to see how bad it gets in winter…!!

Los Machos made it to El Chalten despite all that nature threw our way...!!

These huge signs dot the Patagonian landscape.... This one shows that you are entering the Santa Cruz province...

We ate a fairly decent meal in the small cafe, then wishing each other good luck, set off back to Calafate…

If anything, the wind was even worse than before, as it usually is in the mid to late afternoons down here… With Dire Straits’s “Alchemy” album blasting through my earphones, I rode out of the hills and onto the plain to do battle with the wind…

Just after I took this photo, I had to rush over to the bike to prevent it from being blown over...!!

By the time I reached the turnoff to Ruta 40, 90 km later, my nerves were in shreds…!! I had nearly been blown off the bike while crossing the bridge over the Rio Cangrejo, which emptied into Lago Viedma a few kilometres to the south of Ruta 23…

I stopped to wait for the others, and when Ezikiel eventually came into view, he buzzed right past me…!! He later told me that if he had stopped, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to continue…!! He just wanted to get back to El Calafate and off the bike…!!

I couldn’t blame him…!! I did not wait for Pablo and Augustine, and got back on the bike, tore past Ezekiel, and rode the last 130 km back to town as fast as I could…

I had not been affected by the cold as much as the others had, and they had stopped somewhere along the way to put their rain gear on to act as windbreakers… They arrived back at the cabana a long time after I had already changed out of my gear, and one by one headed for a hot shower…

Augustine collapsed in a heap when we got back to our cabana in El Calafate... The rest of us were not far behind him...!!

It was warm inside, but outside it was as cold as a witches tit…!! Which by all accounts, is very cold I am told…!!

We had basically wasted a full day out on the road, chasing a suggestion made by someone who had probably only ever made the trip in the comfort of a motor vehicle…!! Sure, the scenery at El Chalten was great, but the ride there and the stress it induced being on a motorbike, was not worth the effort…!!

You win some, you lose some…!!

And I am reliably informed that things get worse from here on down to Ushuaia…!!

This was NOT in the brochure…!!

They boys needed every bit of gear to try and keep themselves from freezing out on the road today...!!

©GBWT 2012