Figure 4Canyons on the way to Potosi
And we actually found
gas along the way. I marked out a hostel
and it took a little time to find it.
When we did, they had an excellent place to park and a room for about
$30. We went and had dinner, and settled
in for the night. Potosi is somewhat a
tourist destination, so there was a little walking mall, movie theaters and
generally felt very safe. We had
breakfast early and left. We left town,
again without filling up because we could not find a gas station.
We paid a toll for a
brand new road from Potosi to Uyuni. It
had only been open a month, very little traffic, smooth and about of 120 miles
of nothing but twisty road…. It was a blast. But at about 80 miles the reserve light came
on and there were NO stations, nothing, nada.
Chuck actually had about 46 miles on his reserve when we finally pulled
into Uyuni.
We ran into some Germans
just outside Uyuni and asked if they could follow us to make sure we made
it. They had some extra gas, in water
bottles held on back with bungees.
Saftey third!
New friends from Germany
Uyuni
The line of cars at the
station in Uyuni was at least a half mile long.
But, we have found out that usually in Bolivia there is a “moto” only
line. I kinda snuck around until one of
the attendents finally motioned me in. And
we were now traveling with the five Germans on BMWs, so there were seven of us
in total.
I sometimes wonder why
others don’t get pissed off because of our cutting in line. I have never had an issue, if fact many of
those in line will get out of their cars to come ask us about our bikes. This time seven bikes filled up but there
were no complaints. The gas truck just
arrived to fill up the tanks in the station and I heard later that some in that
line had been waiting since the day before.
We followed the Germans to the hostel they were looking for. Talking a few weeks later with others who
were there, we were told that the gas truck had been days in arriving and they
had to find gasoline on the black market from people with drums. (see later note about Ollangue)
After getting a room at
the hostel, we removed our luggage, left it in the room and decided to ride out
to Luna Salada (the Salt Hotel). We had
tried to get a reservation but they had indicated that they were fully booked. But we decided to go anyway, see the hotel
and have a beer. When we got there, they
said there had a problem with one of the tours and they had some open rooms. We went ahead and took a room; how many times
do you get to stay in a hotel made of salt.
The road to the hotel
was brutal though, entirely wash boarded, some sand but totally beating up the
bikes. It had taken over an hour to
travel about 20 miles. We decided to not
go back that night, and just rough it without our luggage. However, someone was coming out to work and
agreed to stop and pick up our luggage.
They cut off the lock on the Hostel room, got our luggage, paid our
Hostel bill, bought a new lock and brought our luggage for their cost
only. Nice!
We stayed at the Luna
Salada for three days. The second day we
traveled onto the salt, which is the largest lake deposited salt in the
world. NASA usebs the surface of the
Salar de Uyuni to calibrate their satellite instruments, as it is much more
accurate than the surface of the ocean.
The elevation on our GPS (approximately 12,050 feet) did not vary over
ten feet during the entire crossing of about 40 miles.
The Salt as far as you could see
The outside edge of the
salt is actually wet. It rains on the land
surrounding the salt then drains into the salt.
You must be careful not to drive into the wet salt and become
stuck.
We had lunch at the isle
de Incahuas. Pretty much a tourist
destination, but still worthwhile. Chuck
had a young admirer, the daughter of one of the workers in the kitchen. She has apparently never seen a giant with a
gray beard.
Chuck's Admirer
She was not camera shy
On the way back, due to the vibration on the salt, the gas can bracket
had cracked and broken. The tanks were lying
flat on my side cases. We pulled it up
and held it in place with a bungy. At
the hotel we asked about a welder in town, who could reweld the bracket. Turns out
the hotel had someone employed, who welded.
He came out in front of the hotel, ran a couple wires to the electrical
outlet and welded up a fix.
Welding the gas holder back
together
He welded a brace on
Chucks as well. But he ran out of
welding rod before he could add a brace to my second side. He asked for nothing but we gave him what
amounted to about $20 each. I must say,
as he started to weld he did not have welding goggles on, and we told him we
would not let him weld on our bikes without goggles, so he went and put on his
safety gear.
On the second day they
moved us to a suite, because the tour that missed the previous day, was now
expected. The suite was huge, a large
living room and two bedrooms, one with two doubles and the other with a king
size bed. Unfortunately, we would have
gladly traded the upgrade for a few steps closer to the front door and the
bikes. As it was, the suite was
literally the furthest room away at 300 steps (Chuck counted). Carrying our luggage out was a workout at
over 12,000 feet elevation.
That's loose salt on the
floor
Grotto's outside the rooms
along the main hall
As we left the hotel on
the final day, we asked about the roads on the opposite side of the salt. We were told that it was a pretty good
road. Here is some advice, never trust
free advice. J
Here's the map, simple right?
Chuck had programmed an
intercept from the previous days track.
So as we got close he took the lead.
I became concerned when we crossed our track but kept going. We were getting closer and closer to the edge
and the wet salt. What was worse was
that Chuck had taken an angle away from the direction we needed to go. As he stopped to look at his GPS, I caught up
and convinced him we needed to back track.
He said he would follow me. I
turned but as we headed back I crossed tracks from vehicles coming from
shore. I stopped to make Chuck aware of
the bumps and my bike sank into the salt, getting stuck. I waved Chuck across the tracks to the other
side and he came back and helped me get my bike unstuck.
Stuck in the salt. It looks like Snow.
We made it to the dirt
road on the other side of the salt. It
was about 30 miles to San Juan, but the road was brutal. Sand, rocks, dust and again, the worst wash
boards. Along with all the questions
about which way to go, it took us at least three hours to get to San Juan.
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