Rio Gallegos, Argentina

Jan 5, 2005

I was supposed to leave Ushuaia yesterday, but it was raining heavily and I wasn´t able to do any filming, so I decided to leave early this morning. I spent the night at Javier´s Place, a bed and breakfast owned by a motorcycle riding lawyer who flagged me down the day before when I was riding by, then helped me clean out my air filter. Everyone with an extra room in Ushuaia has a B&B or hostel. Javier let me take him to a chinese and parilla all you can eat buffet in exchange for a room with a full size bed, real hot water (until you´ve tried the hot water, you don´t know what this means), and a working heater.

This morning I set out bright and early, the sun was out, and around Ushuaia the mountains were full of mist, then I hit the rain. At least the dirt roads werén´t full of choking dust. Later down the road I got to decide whether I prefer riding in choking dust or hailstorms.

The sky is so blue and the clouds so thick and intense, roiling almost across the sky, that even freezing bitter rainstorms are beautiful here.

I checked the weather channel yesterday and they are predicting 10 days of rain, followed by locusts and frogs...

Ushuaia, Argentina

Jan 2, 2005

The end of the world is quite beautiful, rimmed in snow covered mountains, with light that lasts this time of year after eleven at night, and lots of peak roofed houses climbing the hills from the
bay. Unfortunately, it is full of backpackers, so the only room I could find that didn't involve sharing with five strangers who would probably pilfer all my valuables when my back was turned is $23, with shared bath. The end of the world is fully occupied. Ushuaia has a permanent population of 45,000 or so, and beautiful light.

I rode from Esquel to Rio Gallegos yesterday and spent the night in Rio Gallegos, which is a dirty port city with nothing to rave about. I had driven so far and fast that my ears were ringing for hours afterward. This morning I got up and realized I was only 350 miles from Ushuaia, the farthest point south one can drive on the planet, so I fired up the trusty Guzzi and headed south, into Chile, then onto a boat, across some water, back into Argentina, and here. There were a total of 120 miles or so of gravel roads, so it took a little longer than I would have liked. I also got a flat tire, but an italian couple I met on the road gave me an inner tube and he helped me change it. My bike brings the italians out of the woodwork, and no matter what they are riding, they all want photos of the Guzzi for someone back home who loves them, and they want to know how reliable it is.

I also met three Chilenos who's whole purpose in riding here seemed to be to show me that they could ride faster than me. I pushed them a bit then asked myself why I was pushing my bike, when it had carried me 10,000 miles and I was hoping to ride it back. So they are out there content in knowing they have faster motorcycles.

When I set out on this trip, my goal was to ride here, filming the experience and the people I met along the way. I'm here.

So now what?