2023 south amEriCa part 1

internationally.

Try launching thisbrand in Australia. I dare you.

The famously fancy Llao Llao Hotel (which used to be a 7 star establishment) was a target, Cindy and I had tried to get in back in 2015 for a coffee with no success, but JC sweet talked the security guard into letting us in, maybe assisted by a dearth of $2000/night paying punters since Covid. The staff were surprisingly welcoming to people not in any way dressed like true clientele, and soon we were ensconced in the lounge. Recognising that this was our only opportunity, I ordered a trout empanada and Cindy a special hotel chocolate alfajores the size of two of the old kid’s favourite Wagonwheels.

Chico Circuit better than a Chico Roll

Back onto the road like we now owned it, it was the loop with some of the clearest and most amazing scenery, before back to the hotel and preparation for the evening. One of Bariloche’s premium carne restaurants in a country famous for carne was the plan, so those with doublewide elastic-waist pants and tracky dacks had them laid out in readiness. At 7:30pm we were in the queue, waiting for the very early opening by Argentine standards; 8pm.

Doors didn’t actually open until 8:10pm, but it was worth the wait. Seated, several cuts were ordered, and then relentless plates started to appear. They never ended, as soon as 3kg of carne was consumed, out of the kitchen it would reappear. Eventually (about 15 minutes in) we were frightened to touch anything because it would have a re-in-carne-tion. Okay maybe they won’t notice a small black pud missing. Oh lord they did – here comes another wooden platter. “Elegant Sufficiency!” someone moaned, their pants parting like the Red Sea in Exodus 14:21, but without any chance of Egyptians drowning in a zip-up.

Day 7 was the start of Patagonia although we didn’t realise it at the time. Up at 6am, casual breakfast, away by 8:30am. Due south out of Bariloche which was easy, and down through the lakes the same as since Pucon, suddenly trees started to disappear. The lunch plan was complicated – we would meet with the last north-heading Compass Patagonia Explorer group for the year at the turnoff to Butch Cassidy’s old digs, have the luncheon, then go back to the turnoff to meet the final group member Scott who had not been seen since Santiago due to his bike being held hostage in Miami by US Customs. Scott had been escorted in two days from Santiago by Tomas, a Chilean BMW GS Trophy riding champion. Speed was of the essence. All went smoothly from our perspective, rolling into the Butch Cassidy property in a huge crowd. Lunch and meeting with the other riders, a great group, they had done it really tough with some of the worst winds for years. All we could tell them was it was going to be easy from here on, except for the traffic.

but the years of horrible stories certainly had us sensitive to anything above a stiff breeze. Esquel was a nice town, but classic Argentina with lots of restaurants who open for the early-bird pensioner specials at 8:30pm. Queenslanders have normally died well before then, but luckily we found a craft beer bar who served enough free peanuts to keep us going until a 9pm supper back at the hotel.

Butch’s place

Back up the road for the Scott reunion, it was down into Esquel. The wind wasn’t too bad

Patagonia at last

The warnings had been coming on strong about Day 8 for a while; we were heading for the town where paper picnic napkins have the lowest take-up on Earth – Perito Moreno. The wind heading to the lunch stop at Rio Mayo was just brutal – 80kmh. And as we could really only travel North-South and the wind could only travel West-East, we were unlikely to become friends. Lots of physics studies and vector analysis made it more bearable; motorcycles are designed to head into the wind but the side force made it important to try to get the head pointing into the apparent wind direction about 15° toward the wind to stop the buffeting. Rio days. We pulled in at the Bajo Caracoles Hotel at around 9am. Not open. Okay we’ll wait with the other 50 people hoping for fuel. 10am rolled around, owners presumably still asleep. Eventually there was no choice with the clock heading for 11am, we had to press on. Although while there we did see the EV charging point that was put in for Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman’s “Long Way Up” that they did on electric HD’s. Has not been used since!

Mayo lunch was planned as a picnic out of the truck, but wasn’t going to happen, the wind even in town was just nasty and Cindy was blown over on her bike at the servo, so inside a restaurant for shelter and very nice salads and chips. Back on the road, the true challenge of Patagonia’s winds became apparent; stopping is truly scary and needs a lot of planning. As we had a nearly straight on head wind in one section, I decided to pull over and take a photo of the barren landscape. The bike wasn’t quite straight on into the wind, which was coming in slightly from the side-stand side, so leaving it was considered a really bad idea and photos were taken pushing against the side. Then a glove got loose. Within a few seconds it was 50m away. Thinking through it, this was simply a fusion of Sophie’s Choice with a bit of Sisyphus boulder rolling thrown in. Both just went for it, so I did the same and raced for the glove hoping a gust wouldn’t happen, and it didn’t. No dramas.

Duncan’s good choice to run for it after initial poor decision making

Day 9 started like all other Day 9’s except this one was in the Hotel Americano in Perito Merino. Plan for the day, unknown by those who weren’t paying much attention, was a station. Estancia in the local language, a farm rather than a train parking spot. The scenery was a bit like South Australia around Pimba but with topography; zero trees but some hills and mountains in the distance. The weather was good and the wind had died down, so the main issue was getting enough fuel over the next few

The remains of Ewan and Charlie’s Long Way Up EV charging station

Cindy had decided on a cultural foray into the local cholcoate bars and vowed to try a different brand every day – not hard to do! While craft beer (IPA’s, pronounced IPAS like it isn’t an acronym) remained a firm staple for a certain male member of the Bennett family. Eventually we reached a turn-off. The first official gravel of the trip, around 40km into the Estancia. Patagonia gravel is a bit variable like most, but commonly river gravel is used; this is like 1” roundish rocks, and can be a bit skatey. The trick is to get into a rut which is free of pebbles, and get some momentum going, say 60kmh plus.