The Best Ride Yet

I had managed to get myself anxious about the crossing in to Argentina. You have to climb through 4,600 meters before the crossing to Argentina at Paso de Jama at only 4,400.  I have never been above 3,500 meters so it was unknown territory for me. Altitude sickness can affect anyone, it is not clear why some people suffer and others don't. I didn't fancy Disorientation, Fainting or Marty Feldmans eyes on the Alto Plata.

I had also read on the bikers website that a pass, further South but about the same altitude,  has been closed for a week due to snow. 

I was all set to make an early start but the best laid plans of mice and men etc. I bumped in to two Aussies (there's a surprise) at breakfast. we got chatting and 8:30 became 9:30 and that was with me packing my bike whilst they were still talking. I have never had an audience whilst packing the bike & it is a bit off putting.

Oh, before I left San P - I saw this place. Just proves they are everywhere! I was singing "Jesus wants me for a sunbeam" as I rode out of town.

 The Chilean Immigration/Customs border crossing is in San Pedro, which is handy. The fact that it is 160 kms from the border doesn't seem to matter! When I went for my ride, the day before, there were 6 coaches lined up and the time taken would have been in the hours. This was one of the main reasons I wanted an early start. As luck would have it, I was second in the queue and set a world record 2 minutes to clear officialdom!

The road to Paso De Jama initially climbs gently out of San Pedro but very quickly you are heading up the side of volcano San Pedro. There are a few lorries making the trip (most of them are fully laden car transporters) and they labour the whole way up. I didn't see a single car.

It was surprising to see it so green and even Lupins growing wild. The Llamas were an added treat, wandering around but not a bit bothered by the bike.

 

Typical! The one time I get some wildlife in frame and in focus, it is having a dump!

From the moment you start the views are fantastic and, even better, they change constantly. The Bike has a computer and one of its readings is temperature. It was 16 Degrees when I left town. Unfortunately it doesn't have an Altimeter, so I relied on what Captain Cabbage once told me - "Temperature drops 2 Degrees for every 1,000 feet", so knowing the temperature should tell me when I had hit 4,600 meters. Well sort of. I told you, your mind does funny things when on a bike for so long!
So San P is 2,400 at 16 degrees means 4,600 should be 13 degrees less ie roughly 3 degrees. I didn't know how to do it if San P got warmer as the day progressed.

The temperature continued to drop and the fuel gauge did too - at quite an alarming rate. I knew it would drop but it was plummeting, I was now reliant on the fuel stop the Argentinian side of the border being there, open and having fuel.

The snow that had seemed very high and a long way away was now making itself apparent at the side of the road. The Bike started flashing a Snow Flake at me as the gauge read 2.5 Degrees. A little further on the snow started to spill on to the road, first just black ice but then snow. Admittedly only sporadically but it was more than I wanted to see.

I don't think I could have had better weather, clear blue skies and just a modest wind, although it was a bloody cold wind!

The gauge hit a low of 1.5 Degrees and I had my handlebar warmers on full. According to my calculations that meant I had "peaked". The trouble is, the journey is not up the side of a mountain and down the other side. The Alto Plata is just that, you reach an undulating plain and it is impossible to know whether you are still rising or not. Anyway the good thing was that I had no headache and felt absolutely fine! I suppose sitting on your arse twisting a throttle grip was unlikely to induce to much stress.

Eventually you begin to get a sense that you must be over the hump, as the downs seemed longer than the ups. The scenery is always changing but then you get a surprise. Round a corner and drop into a slight valley.

There are these rocks standing, a bit like the Moahi of Easter Island, in the middle of nowhere. I took a detour across the gravel for a closer look and to walk in the snow! I did think "You prat! If you fall off here you are in BIG trouble"

 

Is it just me or does it look like an old man scratching his head in bewilderment?

Yep, my foot prints.

They were doing some road works (filling in some pot holes with a bit of luck) and I got the Red flag man to take this whilst I waited to be let through.

As much as I was enjoying the ride I was very pleased to see the Argentinian border post. It seemed a very long 160 kms. Although still at 4,400 m it gave a sense of progress and security. My luck was holding, this time it took all of 10 minutes and I was through without even a glance at the baggage (which was lucky as I still have my cocoa leaves)!
I missed the fact that I passed the Chinchilla National Park. Chesney's cousins must have been there (sorry only means something to Armpit).

Better news the YPF station was there & with fuel! I was tempted to stop for a coffee but preferred to lose a bit of altitude before stopping. A mistake that as there was no discernible change in altitude for the next couple of hours with no other opportunity for a break, so my water had to suffice.

The other things you pass are Salars. As I put some photo's on yesterday I won't bore you with those other than this one. Here they commercially harvest the salt by tractors.

 It was sometime before I really began to lose height and boy did it happen quickly. Hairpin after hairpin down these mountains below. Most of the hairpins were splattered with gravel and rocks that had fallen from the sheer cliffs above. Some corners had no tarmac at all and were just gravel and dirt. That is manageable but it meant you had to approach every one as if it was a mess. This made progress pretty slow.

Eventually I reached the valley floor and from there is was a straight blast for my hotel for the night.Just when I thought I had done with elevation, I had to climb another ridge of mountains, but what a ridge!

The colours in the rocks are astounding (and is not shown in these pictures to the point i nearly didn't load them). It was like the local art students had been let loose with giant pots of paint. It was getting late and I was tired so I didn't take the pictures from the best places but I am sure you will be able to find better ones than mine on the interweb. These look so dull compared to real life -

This is from the Web and this is more like the actual colours - look up "quebrada de humahuaca". The colours really are this bright.


All in all it was 7 hours on the bike, virtually no time spent at the Border controls and only stopping for water and photos. It was a bloody good job I didn't have a 2 hour wait at customs otherwise I would have arrived at Tilcara in the dark, and i didn't fancy that much.


I hadn't anticipated being at such an altitude for so long but luckily it didn't give me any problems. It would have dealt a severe blow to the rest of the trip if I couldn't handle the altitude! San P is at 2,500 and having spent 3 days there was probably a wise (if unintentional) idea!

As for the bike - it never missed a beat!