Motorcycle Explorer October 2014 Issue 2 | Page 84

W
e wrangle through unscathed but then
later in the day, on a similar obstruction, I see
my stable mate on collision course with a green
and white car with the word ‘Polizia’ writ large
on the side. ‘Wallop’ and down he goes, right
hand pannier ripped off as he comes to rest in a
cloud of dust. The guy is OK, just shaken and
the uniforms in the car soon help the straighten
things out. I notice we’re taking things a lot
easier now after a tad too much ‘adventure’ for
the day.
W
e rendezvous with the Andes and meet out
first ever Volcanoes; …boy is this one
impressive landscape! We’ve crossed out first
border too, where some nice men at the
customs post invite me in to the shade out of
the baking hot sun. A sign on the wall says
“Aduanas de Argentina’ or some-such. I think
I’m gonna like this place and it will be our home
for the next three months.
M
ags seems to have mostly settled in to the
trip over these first few weeks and there’s a
relaxed feeling that all is well with the world;
that we’re having the time of our lives as we
travel through it. I say ‘mostly’ as apparently
there are some nasty roads up ahead. I’m
hearing this word ‘Ripio’ repeated more than I
like. Roads, nay, grand Desvios, made of small
stones and gravel that sound like they’re gonna’
rip into my soft parts, knock us about a bit and
give us all a good hard time.
W
e’re running now with three guys from
some place called Mexico, seem to know what
they’re doing. Their bikes are tricked a bit like
myself and have travelled a long and winding
road. We reach a place called Rio Mayo and
there we’re all treated to a night in the hotel
dining room; best garage ever, I tell ya! We
leave early next morning and I tell ya, Mags is a
bit windy; never seen her like this. She’s been
chatting with the Mexicans and has some idea
of a tough day looming ahead. The other fella is
somewhat of the same mindset as we set off
following signs for the ‘Ruta 40’, which turn out
to be some other word for doom.
A
fter a promising start, the road quickly
degenerates to ‘Super-Desvio’ and we literally
begin to rock and roll. I am just whizzing over
the top of it all; keep the speed up, never mind
the bumps and we’re flying… It’s just that every
now and again I feel that desire to dig my nose
in, see what all that dirt’s about. I look across
and there’s that other yella-fella. He seems to
be getting to grips with the ride of his life, as
we’re neck and neck riding through some
unpaved hell.
T
hen, we hit a patch of soft stuff, Mags eases
the throttle and I give way to temptation, dig
my nose in and all of a sudden the world’s gone
upside down. There’s stones and dust
everywhere and I find myself in orientations I
was never designed for with my rubber in the
air and my shiny bits scraping the gravel. Mags
and I part company and I come off the road and
end up inverted in a ditch; hoping she’s OK, at
the same feeling busted and torn myself.