Motorcycle Explorer November 2016 Issue 14 | Page 14

Travel Story: paul pitchfork and pau
Two hundred kilometres of gravel roads lay between
me and the Chilean border, on the edge of the
Bolivian Altiplano. I’d already been on the road for
nearly two hours since leaving the dusty town of
Uyuni and I needed to make good progress if I was
to catch up with the Dakar Rally at the border. I had
reached the last village where I could refuel my
Tenere until…. well, I didn’t know when or where.
As the old man tending the pumps filled my tank, I
heard another moto pulling into the otherwise
deserted gas station. I turned round to greet the
rider and was met by a guy in jeans, running shoes,
an open-faced helmet and astride a Harley. A
Harley? What was he doing here? This was
‘adventure bike’ territory. I almost felt confronted
by his presence.
That evening, when we pulled into the dusty town of
Calama in the Atacama Desert, my perspective on a
few things had been altered significantly. Alejandro
has ridden the dirt on his hog expertly, navigating
the patches of sand and the loose corners with deft
touches on his rear brake to stabilise the bike. When
he ran out of gas in no man’s land somewhere
between the border and Calama, he simply retrieved
a hidden jerry can from behind the pillion seat and
topped up his tank. He’d proven this adventure
biking game doesn’t need to be done on a machine
the marketing gurus have told us is an ‘adventure
bike’.
Alejandro asked me where I was going. Where else
was I going? This road only went to one place. So we
were going the same way - how about we ride
together, he asked. I felt I couldn’t say no, but I
wanted to; I had a lot of distance to cover, a rally to
catch up with, a motorbike that loved riding on the
dirt roads… and I didn’t want to be slowed down by a
Harley.
Above: Pau in South America
Ajelandro with his Harley Davidson in Boliva