It's 0630 as we mount the bikes for the last morning.  The sun is, as it has been for the majority of our stay already high in the sky.  We depart Hotel Barlovento in Porvenir for the ferry docks.  We arrive a bit early, but soon enough the roll up door for processing is opened and we pay our 12,300 pesos for each bike.

The ferry crossing is only 20 miles and will take about 2.5 hrs.  It is uneventful,  assuming you are not a sheep.  Then it means 6 crates 3 crates high with your friends.

The ferry itself can hold 300 passengers and 70 vehicles.  And to my surprise, somehow this sleepy hollow town of Porvenir has somehow scrounged up that kind of traffic to fill it 75% capacity.

There was a sighting of some sort of whale, but it never really got close enough for anyone to tell that from the Lockness monster. 

I do like this sign.  My interpretation is you go open the door to piss on the car deck?

The last 200 kms into Puerto Natales is all paved, sans the occasional construction detour.  We make good time, thanks to an occasional tail wind.  But then again, we get terrible gas mileage thanks the the occasional head wind. 

All in all, the wind on the trip has been very predicable and manageable.  However, given that it is essentially high summer (e.g early July for Northern hemisphere), it has been a very cold trip.  And the rain.  It does the daily Thunderstorm thing like Florida, except the temperature drops to near freezing during the escapades.

We get an email from Ulli, the bike owner that the mechanic had to fly out of town.  So, instead of picking up the bikes from the hotel well need to drop them a few blocks from the hotel.  And with no further ado, we check into the hotel and unpack. 

So tonight we are again bikeless, and now feel more like backpackers.  Hotel Costaustralis is right on the water and in a very trendy part of town.

We are going to take a down day or two and get some sleep and rest up a bit before we head home. Picture is out our hotel room window. Thanks for coming along and we hope you enjoyed the ride!

As with any adventure, there is always a turning point.  Since we are on a peninsula right now, there is only one possible choice for us. We must backtrack the way we came.  More than a physical turning point, the trip has a somewhat somber feeling. For the most part, this was a one-way trip for rental bikes.  The bikes will be dropped at ferry port two days north of here and then return to original town of Pucon via boat.  

In an ideal world, we would just drop the bikes here at the ferry port and fly north.  However, that is a bit problematic as the bikes are on a temp import in our names (Argentina), but yet are Chilean plated.  Both countries have very high import taxes on vehicles, so the bikes are strictly controlled to prevent people from trying to avoid paying taxes. The bike rental place even implored us not to get the bikes stuck or other abandoned in Argentina, as it takes him 6 weeks to get the bikes back (he has to get a court order).

Some neat wall art, as we leave Ushuaia.  Also, we pass by the Naval base where that 2017 ill-fated submarine was stationed.

We pass through the final Ushuaian guard shack with ease.  Surprisingly, not one of them have noticed Bruce's missing license plate that fell off nearly 2 weeks ago.

Popping over the mountains to leave Ushuaia is a biker's treat.  The road has some fab twisties and the scenery delivers. 

The gas stations in Argentina have been a Government wonder of inefficiency.  While they are full service, we hope you enjoy the wait line. And most towns have only one, maybe two gas stations, and it's not uncommon for them to be waiting for the refueling truck.

This creates a sort of hording mentality I suppose, as we got to wait behind a pickup truck with two food grade plastic 55-gallon barrels he was filling with petrol.  They were secured with only the twine you see people driving down the road with mattresses on their roofs.

But we did find one thing that the gas station attendants excel at.  We pull into Rio Grande, which is our very last commercial city in Argentina on this trip.  We give them a pile of currency and then charge the rest of the fuel bill to 'creditio'.  Somehow, they do this split transaction with incredible ease and speed.

As side from the border crossing, the landscape is now long and boring.  So, boring in fact the Go Pro will be taking its' normal one photo every 60 seconds.  Notice how this 4-min sequence looks more like a early flip-action book than live footage?

The border crossing is the same one we did 48-hrs ago, and it a relative breeze.  As we depart the border crossing, we notice that we have only 140 miles remaining for the day, but the GPS time seems way long?  That is because will have one more clip of dirt. And it starts to rain on us, as it has just about every other day on this trip. We hare covered a few 1000 clicks on this trip, and the roads have been in remarkably good condition.  And then it happens. 

They say that bad happenings make great stories and you interesting at parties.  We popped over this small blind hill, and the far side is complete concoction of unexpected conditions.  It is steeply sloped and off camber.  And somehow is is covered in a  few hundred meters of wet snot mud.  Any one of these conditions by itself would have been a better outcome, but for me the bike has a minor tip over. 

Frankly, I think this is the only bike I've ever ridden which I gave it no more consideration to buying.  The bike hits the soft, muddied ground at a speed under 10MPH. No worries right? Just get the bike upright and carry on as you have hundreds of times before on all the other bikes you have ridden. 

A few miles down the road, the wet mud is drying.  Except for one spot on the engine.. it seems that that piss-ant, no-nothing fall has resulted in a cracked crank case.  Luckily, it's only weeping oil and we are closing in on town.

Although we literally only have a few hundred clicks to return the bikes to Puerto Natales, Bruce decides to give his try at asking for directions to a mechanico. 

The only irony is that we decided to leave our JB Weld at home this trip.  Guess there is a life lesson in that thought process somewhere.  No worries a bit of sanding and prep work, and we now have this great story!

The mechanico did a great job, and frankly had it been our personal bikes, we probably wouldn't even bother replacing the $42 side cover.  But this isn't our bike, and I sincerely doubt that the end damage bill will be that.  I also realize that the reason this has never happened before, was because we've done a more through job at protection.

The skid plate on the CB500X uses the bolts on the alternator case as a support bracket. It seems like bad form to use the motor as an attachment point, instead of frame mounting it.  Additionally, the skid plate itself does not have the bottom 'ears' to shroud the motor.  This would not have been so bad, but the bike also has upper (and not lower) crash bars. I guess there is nothing left for the bike to do but use the engine side cases as a skid point.

We ride into the mechanico shop, and he greats us warmly.  He is convinced that we have arrived to hire him to pressure wash the bikes.  Why would we consider wiping all that smiles off?  He does attend our more pressing matters, and we are good as new in a bit under an hour. We hop over to the hotel, unpack and get cleaned up, and by now have completely missed the lunch window.  No worries, dinner is only 5 hours away.

We decided to go try to refuel the bikes in town, as the only station was out of fuel when we came through the first time.  While we do get fuel, we are not successful at finding an open restaurant.   So we return at the hotel restaurant at 1900, only be told the chef is on the ferry and it's apparently late.  What is another hour waiting I suppose. 

Sometimes the chefs in these sleepy-hollow towns are out of this world.  We can only hope that that steak is as good as New Years Eve in Gobernador Gregores.

As we do on every day off, the weather is very pleasant.  It can only mean that tomorrow's forecast of 100% chance of rain will make the 444 Kms north to the ferry all the more delightful in my BMW Adventure jacket.  I think the BMW engineers thought the design requirement was to see how much rain water the jacket can collect, rather than more obvious rider-focused solution.

Nonetheless, we mount up after a lazy morning and trot the remaining 20Kms down Ruta 3.  The park will make us 1100 pesos less rich and we will continue on our merry way.  The road narrows to 1.5 car-wide dirt road.  Which would be ideal except there are full sized tour buses driving as if they are an electron excited on the outer ring of a molecule.  But then at mile marker 3079 kms from Buenos Aires, Ruta 3 terminates.   Terminates with this sign. 

And since I've done a spectacular job of comparing known photos during this ride report, I wonder why they spelled La Plata has the extra 'I' at the end....

We don't stay long.  For one, we had to wait for our turn at the sign and tour bus after bus is dropping off people like puppy breeding mill.  There is no solitude here.

On the way out of the park, we wave to a few backpackers as we have throughout our entire journey.  Instead of the normal happy wave, they scowl at us as if to suggest the motorbikes are messing up their pristine park experience.  It is interesting that cars and motos only have a value to them when they are hitchhiking out of town and need something from a petrol engine.

The park has watersports too.

Not quite a yellow brook road... but close!

The tree canopy covers the road.  However, the trees are covered in a fine brown road dust from all the traffic.

These flowers are pretty, if not for their prickles.

We stumble upon this time capsule interred in 1992.  Apparently it contains a Laser Disc to be opened in 500 years.  And it also warns of time traveler that will witness the re-opening.  Neato!

I guess when you are done with your sheepskin car seats, this what is left.  Spatchcocked barbecued lamb!  I don't really like lamb, but this was out of the world fabulous.

How many ways can you say Ushuaia?

We depart Cerro Sombrero this morning, with the next overnight in Ushuaia.  There is a 0% chance of rain, and for us that is a percentage of certainty that we will be cold and wet again today.

Arrival tonight in Ushuaia means that we have accomplished another feat in our own travel guide.  The equator is latitude 0, with the southern and northern pole 90.  Ushuaia is at the -54 parallel, and interesting Caniapiscau, Quebec (e.g the Trans Tiaga) is at +54 parallel.  We now ridden motorbikes on 108 of the 180 degrees!  So, while we do have some bits to fill in the center of that 108 degrees, not a bad accomplishment indeed!

We take the China Creek dirt road, and as was yesterday, we again find ourselves as bonafide sheep herders!  Still a neat situation, but yesterday was a better shot since the we were traveling against the herds direction of travel.

We have considered buying some sheep, and some lights to make our own vid like this one

And we find Flamingoes

We stop in Tolhuin for the most amazing French bakery, La Union.  This place is crazy good and packed!

La Union has this nice tribute the 2017 Submarine mishap

It is Sunday and both immigration locations are very quite, so we sail right through.  We were actually sad when we completed the China Creek bypass, as we were all but certain that was the last of the gravel.  Never discount no-mans land in Argentina's customs though, they do dislike pavement it seems there too!

About 45 minutes later, we see this young couple pushing a bike.  You know these Hondas we are on haven't needed a damn thing other than petrol in the last 3 weeks.  Poor Bruce is going trough cold-turkey ratchet withdrawal.  With that, secretly hoping that they just need some petrol, mechanic Bruce springs into action.

No luck that this would be a 'simple' fix. They have a very crappy bias-ply tire already sporting a plug in the sidewall and is worn beyond its'  useful tread life. And the hole is at least a 2 stringer fix.  After 2 failed attempts to get the plug to set, it's clear that there is just not more we can do for them.  We bid them well and carry on.  Hindsight, it is probably best that that plugs failed while still on the side of road, lest it come from together while they were 2-up!

Bruce is always looking for design ideas for his next garage.  I just wish that he didn't take his clues from a submarine dry dock in Rio Grande!

We are getting a bit tired of the Wyoming flatness of the terrain.  And the rain.  Must it really rain everyday?  We are pretty much resigned that this will be our 1 and only voyage to Ushuaia.  And then it happens.  The flatness gives way and the Sun comes out. 

The last 40 miles into Ushuaia is really nice.  Ski resorts and hiking trails abound!

It's 0230 and we are startled from our slumber by a primordial noise.  Something is sounding like it is quite pleasured.  Then, the are a few rocking noises.  Our room is a cluster of 4 rooms, and I just chalk it up to a 'frisky' set of human occupants next door.  Bruce however is very concerned that the noises are clearly from something very, very big outside.  He peers out the window, and nothing is in sight. 

At breakfast, we find our offenders! A herd of free ranging cattle have wondered into camp, and the yearling bulls are rubbing their heads on damn near everything.

It has rained most of the night, and the mountains surrounding Hotel Del Paine are now covered in a fresh dusting of snow.

Since the park hosts a glacier, it is overrun by tour buses.  Sadly, this lovely section of dirt road is also now nearly 50% paved. 

Our luck in fuel stops has changed today.  Not only do we find no closed stations, we also find a brand spanking new one that just opened!  I am not sure what my obsession is with lone rock formations, but I do have a predilection for them.

Here's another one.  Everyone knows about Ayers Rock in Australia.  Doesn't seem that Australia should be 5800 miles away, does it?

We were suppose to catch a ferry into the "Land of Fire" (e.g. tierra del fuego).   

Just kidding.  That was a just a photo op that was marked on the Montana.  The real ferry cost 5,000 Chilean pesos and is very modern!

Bruce has decided to wear his rain jacket today, as the morning air has a bit of a nip.  I think that appeases the rain gods and all we get a the beautiful cloud formations, and a few errant sprinkles (as opposed to the deluge from yesterday).

We find the the suggested town for the lunch stop, but not the actual restaurant.  The place we end up eating at doesn't have a bath.  Such a damn pity.  But the gods must be loving me when not even a few clicks down the road they deliver me the cleanest port-to-potty I have ever seen and right next the Ruta!  Do you like the ropes tying it down?

So for those keeping score, we had the luck of the Irish today.  We scored an extra brand new gas stop, we found that gem of a potty, and now the money shot.  Apparently it's time to get your kilt on. 

There are few road signs compared to the states. But when you do see a warning sign, you had best heed it!  Today, we see a flagman warning of animals on the road ahead.  Mind you this is a road with a 100KMs speed limit and ferry truck traffic.  We must have (kid you not) 15,000 head of sheep.  There might be a joke about Why do Irishmen wear a kilt...so the sheep don't hear them coming.  Sheep don't hear much including an African Twin motorbike.  We drive at least 1/2 mile passing them! Today's money shot!

The gauchos

Imagine our surprise when we find this taxi on the ferry crossing with us.  We are nary 6400 miles from zip code 20646 (La Plata, MD).  How much did that taxi ride cost?

Our hotel tonight is in another windswept town.  I think that I enjoy these little places off the beaten tourista paths.  Simple pleasures of clean rooms and good eats.

Here is the Day 14 'Proof of Life' photo.  Yes, we might be queuing again for 'full service' gas, this wait was a paltry 10 mins. With only 6 days remaining on this adventure, Bruce has settled into a nice battle rhythm.  Nothing phases him at this point.  He's kickin' back and just enjoying the ride!

Finally!  If you recollect a few days ago, every time I went to photograph this bird, it would evaporate.  It became known as my personal 'Kevin' from the pixar movie Up.  Well, Kevin no more.   Your long beak has been snapped, if not slightly fuzzy.

It is our day off.  We have a slow morning.  We are happy to leave behind the 'upgraded' room at the Design hotel as they still haven't sent the Engineers to fix the plugged up commode since the request 5 hours ago.  And the bath tub is now our own personal terrarium filled with black beetle-type bugs.  The hotel staff speaks decent English, but there is something ambivalent about their attitudes.  For example, every meal but breakfast must have a reservation.  Despite the fact the when I walk by, the place is mostly empty.  And if I have to hear one more time about how you are so booked, it will be the end of me.

The bikes need to be fueled, so we decide to go mid-afternoon to try and avoid the New Jersey-style full-service pump lines.   No such luck.  We queue up just like every other day, about 7 deep.  While they have no less than 2 islands sporting 13 pumps, only 2 pumps area operational (1 diesel, 1 petrol).  And so the 2 attendants have to wait for the other side to complete fueling to get the hose. 

Meanwhile, we park the bikes on main street.  Hindsight, that may have been a poor idea given that Bruce has no license plate.  Any chance this is a "Welcome" card?

While we initially think that it is a parking ticket, it is sort of.  More really just renting a parking spot.  Soon enough, the attendant is 15 pesos richer and we are on our way.  That was a close one!

Having paid our debt to society, mind as well continue enjoying the main drag.

And while these dogs appear feral, they are certainly not very hungry.  I gave a piece of hamburger bun to two of them, only for them to go back to sleep, ignoring the food.

I see Guacano on the menu, and decide to give it a go.   Boy it was terrible. But as consolation prize, we find this neat little chocolate/ice store.  Who could resist a handspun ice cream? The odd thing is you always pay first here, and get a receipt which is then given to the girls serving the ice cream.  We will also use this photo as the day 12 "Proof of Life" ransom photo for Bruce :-)

Some things are the same the world over.... we leave the hotel in Gobernador Gregores at 0630.  Across the street from hotel,  a New Year's eve party is still in full swing.  A few people leave the party and are staggering/walking down the street, when one decides to dump something in the neighbor's bushes and then 75 yards later whips out his stuff and pisses on the small wall surrounding someone else's yard.....too funny!

They say you should start the year doing the one thing that you want to do for the rest of the year.  Not a bad start for us I'd say.  The track into El Calafate is 335KMs, and probably 100 clicks of high speed gravel.  Thousands of miles in Canada have certainly provided us some life skills to easily trot down the track.  It is certainly high desert.  We run the go pro and the 200+ photos it captures the scenery certainly doesn't change much from frame to frame, even though it only shoots every 60 seconds.  We do stop to 'admire' what this fish creature is doing in the middle of the scenery. 

Now on day 2 of living among the Guanacos, we have found them remarkably predictable.  We also noted they prefer the less windy places (if you could really say that about this vast open space) to hang out. 

Little Guac's are nothing but all neck and legs..

We stop for fuel about 0900 at Tres Lagos.  I have a bad feeling as we pull up the pump.  Notice that the pump is again covered in stickers?  Yes, there is also no fuel at this station either.  There is a sign on the window saying something about 1030, but it's not clear if that is when they open or the fuel truck should arrive. 

We know from yesterday, that the despite the larger tank the Afrika Twin, it is a more thirsty bike.  We also know that that the low fuel light is on at 90KMs.  With a cushion of 40 clicks between fuel to empty and remaining miles on the track (plus another 11L in the fuel bladder), we don't wait 1.5 hrs to see what might happen. 

Another 57 clicks down the track, the sole building in La Leona is too inviting not to stop.  And besides the best beef empanadas, we discover Butch is Back!  Apparently, he thought the same of the place and stopped here for a month while hiding out during 1905!

And so the next ride idea is born.  We will follow in escape path of Butch from his arrest in Wyoming State Penitentiary in Rawlins, WY  through South America.  I guess it is time for me to start getting some history books.

We sit eating our emapandas in relative peace as the earlier 10 days have been.  And then it happens.  Not one, but 3 tours buses unload their zombie tourists on the little cafe.  I have experienced less chaos when driving through a horde of grasshoppers.  Not only is our scenery changing in a little bit, but apparently the tone of the trip will also be morphing.  Sure enough as we get back onto Ruta 40, we are also playing frogger with all madmen driving the tourists.  They were probably sane men before they started that job, so I can't really fault them.

But the landscape is changing yet again.  And imagine our surprise when we happen upon Superman's Snow Fortress!

We are in Glacier Country Now.  Meet Fitz Roy Glacier.  The glacier is most noticeable in the center of bowl leaking out.  There are about 13 glaciers in this region.  This one would take about a day hike to get closer, and we are adventure riders not hikers.

Icebergs presumably calved off one of the many glaciers.

We (try) to check in Hotel Design in El Calafate around 1300.  No dice.  The Hotel self-certify's as a 5-star accommodation, but so far the don't have a continuous room for us for both nights, so we will have to move after night one.  The Jacuzzi tub doesn't work, we managed to plug the commode, and this morning the tub is filled with bugs that presumably crawled up through the Jacuzzi  drain as they can't seem to get out!  But, the weather is suppose to rain a bit tomorrow, so we jet out to see the Perito Moreno Glacier. What is another 160KMs!

The USD is quite strong against the Argentina Peso, so it's about $13USD to enter the park.  And Ruta 11 is quite a fun bit of tarmac to tear up.  In fact, the Afrika Twin has endeared itself to Bruce enough he might consider one in the stable.  We get close enough to watch it for the better part of an hour.  It interesting to see it calve, the hear the bizarre sound waves catch up moments later!