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Wrecking Crew Diaries
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2004 Patagonia - Eat Dust

2004 Patagonia - Eat Dust

The horizon fills with a monumental plume of dust, a flock of Alpacas unblinkingly stare into their impending fate, Armadillos frantically scramble for safety off the road, even the fierce winds that have been punishing the Ruta for days on end seem to hold their breath in awe for a moment. The spectre approaching with the sonorous rumble of big V-twins are of course the 4 Patagonian Riders, on a mission that demands everything from man and machine. The reward however that these four will reap in the end will be worth it. It's the stuff that legends get soldered together with. It's the southernmost beer of the world, Antarctica chilled and served by penguins. Can there be a better reason to hammer down to Ushuaia from Buenos Aires on two rigid framed Knuckleheads, one rigid Panhead and an Evo Sportster? There's nothing that can slow down those 4 tireless riders on their Milwaukee hardware: Even diabolical gravel, hellish crosswinds, devilish potholes, riven gearbox cases, vibrated off stem nuts and overwhelmed drive chains in the end are nothing against the majestical V-twins plowing through epic cinemascope landscapes, the chilled nights and endless asados from South American campfires and the resounding pop of that final, southernmost beer in the world. AAAAAAAAHHH!

Part 4 - Penguins and Break-Down Mail (Península Valdés - Esquel)
We decide to do a little road testing on the Valdés Peninsula. Oh, and we get the full Monty. Underneath the wheels there is deep, treacherous gravel. To all sides there are killer winds that whip across in all directions, and just to make life really interesting, there’s evil dust that obscures the gravel track. After this ride through hell we take a short break in Punta Norte. This is an amazing place; a reserve created primarily to protect walruses, it’s also an important mating area for sea lions with a colony of some 3000 adults and around 1350 pups in the breeding season. We’re lucky enough to see some of the newborns - cute!

But two wheeled reality is back all too. Regardless of the wind and dust, Paul’s primary chain needs adjusting. Just a little bit later black smoke starts to splurge from his tailpipe. The low-revved gravel-digging we’re doing on this terrain is fouling the plugs. So we stop, dig into the emergency kit and fit new plugs. VRRROOOOM, the bike’s seventy-four cubic inches can breathe freely again, and we make it back to Puerto Pirámides where we do a “major’ service on the bikes. Tomorrow there’s going to be a lot of miles. By noon of the following day we blaze through Trelev, from there to Ruta 25, due west. We crack on, eating up 180 kilometres across the steppe which is big, wide open, hot and utterly desolate. After a short fuel stop in Las Plumas we keep going to the Valle de los Martires, which is an eye opener for all of us.
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Part 10 - Can Harleys swim? (Rio Grande - Ushuaia)
The next day we shake, judder and jump over a collection of potholes called Ruta 3 into an enchanted forest. Wind bent trees, branches in all shades of green, overgrown by moss and silvery lichen, sunrays inching through low hanging clouds and wisps of mysterious fog. Why didn’t they make “Lord of the Rings” here? The next village’s name: Tolkin.

Before we reach Ushuaia, the main town in the Land of Fire and the southernmost town in the world, we take a detour over the alpine-like Paso Garibaldi, and suddenly, surrounded by snow-capped mountains, snuggled beside the awesome Beagle Channel, there it is. Ushuaia. Journey’s end. We made it. We actually got there. Strangely we’re not euphoric.

After five weeks and 5500 merciless kilometers, the trip is over too soon.
Later on we move to the Rugby Club camp ground, where supposedly all the bikers meet. Not today, the 4 Patagonian Riders are all by themselves, taking their pick from the nicest spots. They find an excellent pitch right by the river Pipo. The sausages from the BBQ get washed down with some chilled beer, and the river is gurgling in our sleep.

There’s a couple of days left, and we still have ideas: we could take the bikes by boat to the Isla Navarino, still further South, or we could take a plane to the Antarctic. As there are no flights available, we check out the port. Tommy finds a skipper willing to take us over. The only problem is customs, as the island belongs to Chile, and we are in Argentina. This could be arranged with the Chilean consulate, but not on the week end. To kill time we do yet another asado and take a ride to the Lapataia National Park. The sky is a screaming blue and the sun bounces cheerily off rivers and lakes. On the distant Cordillera snowfields are glaring and we have the warmest day in Ushuaia since 92 years with 28°C.
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