Day41-A Bad Situation Can Get Worse!, Sun, Feb 6, 2011

The Wisdom of Kenny Rogers’ Gambler Song:  ”You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold them”

Start & Stop:
Leg 1: Salinas de Garci-Mendoza, Bolivia to Belen de Andamarca, Bolivia
Leg 2 Belen de Andamarca, Bolivia to Oruro, Bolivia

Mileage: Leg 1: 83 dirty, rotten, stinkin’ miles
Leg 2: 132 km in a warm truck!

Hotel: Volvo Super Truck

Fuel: Peru: Best grade 95 = S/16.69 Sol/Gal ($2.33 USD/gal)

Currency Exchange: $1 USD = 7.01 Boliviano

Lisa: Wow, where to start?  This day was one of the longest 24-hour stretches of my life.

Up at 6 to be at the welder’s place by 7.  There had been some serious partying the night before because of the festival and we were the first to leave the hotel and it looked as though everyone else was still fast asleep.  Get to the mechanic’s house and Dean starts stripping down his bike and moved it into the enclosed yard.  I put in my head phones, iTouch on, put on my hood and sat against the wall, eyes closed.  Enjoying my Sunday morning in the quiet of the town, when all of a sudden a car squeals to a stop in front of me and a very angry man gets out, screaming at me in Spanish.  Hello?  Who are you and why are you yelling at me, waving your arms like a madman.  Turns out he worked at the hotel and thought we split without paying our $6 bill.  So, you thought we were ‘hiding out’ on one of the 7 streets in town by parking the V-pigs in plain sight and sitting next to it in MC gear?  Shyeah, nice.  As I explained that we didn’t skip out, my clothes and computer, etc, were still in the hotel and we would return and pay.  He wouldn’t have any of it til the mother of the home started screaming at him that my “ropas” were still there so go away and then he did.

Broken subframe. This holds the Tanji Flatbed fuel cell onto the Strompasourus.

First we bend everything back to approximate and tack braze.

Wet rags and water keeps all the rear plastic, wiring harness, CB cables, oiler hoses from meltdown.

Lisa's Mr Toad's wild ride tire tracks. The two of us got pretty good picking up the Stroms. Notice all the standing water on both sides of the road.

Mr Rolando Capa Calle's stake bed truck and trailer.

Dean carrying 50 kg bag Portland Cement.

These girls became Lisa's best friends. Made hot tea and sandwiches for us and took us to the hospital to get out of the rain. Hospital happened to be across the street where the truck was being unloaded.

The V-Stromasours in the back of the track.

Dean: The broken subframe is also bent/cracked at the point where it is welded to the frame.  There is not enough power to arc weld the subframe so we are limited to brazing.  After heavy brazing in four areas – the two broken and two bent at the frame, I fabricated two over the top brackets out of 1/2″ x 1/8″ x 12″ steel stock that we also brazed front and back along the edges of the subframe.  All this might have a chance of holding the rest of the trip.  The brazing and reassembly of everything takes till 11AM.

Lisa: We spoke to a bunch of people about our planned escape from MC hell – to take an alternate route that would eventually connect us with a more main route to the border and off we went.  A harbinger of the day to come was when Dean clipped my saddlebag in the gas station and we both fell over.  Yup.  Perfect.

Dean: Rain continues to be our nemesis.   We made a dozen water crossings with the deepest 5-6″.  I ended up dropping the VStrom 4 times and Lisa 5 times.

Lisa: The road deteriorated rapidly and I kept saying that it has to change soon.  It would.  For the worse.  I lost count how many times I ended up on the ground but one stands out: Cruising along through some mud, I found it less deep near the shoulder where gravel had been spread.  Until, of course, I hit a very deep patch and the bike made a beeline for the concrete culvert conveniently located directly in the now careening path of my bike.  This would not end well.  The good news is that I avoided launching the bike down into the culvert.  The bad news is I ended up on my back in 6″ of mud, with my left hand and left leg pinned under the bike. I just laid there for about a minute, trying to figure out how to kill myself right here and now. Nothing came to me so I used my muddy right boot to push the seat of the bike up enough to free myself and then just wandered around muttering for a while.  Yes, it was that kind of day.

Dean: “Where is Lisa?  She was right behind me.”  I concentrate on a particularly bad stretch of road and Lisa disappears.  Now the road is straight as an arrow so she has to be a long ways back or she slid off the road.  I take out my binoculars and see she is walking around her sleeping V-Pig muttering to herself and shaking her fist at everything around her.  It takes me 2-3 minutes to turn around and get back to her.  We get her Wee back on 2-wheels and continue on.

Lisa: 4:30 PM found us in Belen de Andamarca under another heavy rain cycle.  We stopped to speak to a trucker who had just pulled up to a yard to offload a whole bunch of 50kg (110lb) bags of cement.  There are times in your life when you can identify an angel has entered and this is most definitely one of them.  Rolando spoke a mixture of Spanish and English and drew us a map of how we should go.  The more he talked, the more it dawned on all of us that us riding out of this town at this hour of the day was not a good idea but there were no hotels there.  He went inside the yard to ask if someone would put us up – no takers.

I followed him and told him that we weren’t picky and we would gladly sleep in the back of his truck.  He said no, and pointed to the cab, saying we could sleep there.  Sweet.  But then he said the most amazing thing – and the bikes will be in the back of the truck and he pointed north.  He was going to load our bikes in his soon-to-be empty stake bed and take us and them the heck out of there.  Tonight!  I could have kissed him.  Actually, I think I did.

Dean: We still had 132 km to Oruor.  Since there was only the assistant truck driver unloading the truck, I volunteered to help.  If we were getting help from this truck driver, I’ll help do our part.  The assistant could carry 2 50 kg sacks at a time!!  I could manage one.  Me working shamed 2 other villagers into helping.  We unloaded 200 bags of Portland cement.

Truck driver Rolando Capa Calle

Lisa: Dean was not all that thrilled about taking the truck but like Kenny Rogers says: “you gotta know when to fold ‘em” and this was that time.  This ‘road’ had gotten the best of us and I, for one, was dunzo with it and this part of the adventure had stopped being fun.

Then, 3 young women of the town took me under their wing and while we were all waiting for the unloading to be complete, they made Dean and me cups of hot tea and 2 sandwiches each of local pan and some yummy spread. We hadn’t eaten all day and by now it was about 6:30 and nothing ever tasted so good.  They were fascinated by the bikes and were very sweet to us. More angels.

About 8 PM 6 guys muscled the V-Stroms into the back of the stake bed and after a bit we were on the road.  Dean and I got the jump seat, between and behind the driver and his assistant.  It was pretty comfy and there was a pile of blankets there.  Good thing too because I had gotten soaking wet while we waited and then loaded the bikes.  It was pouring rain, just really coming down as we started out.

At first Dean kept saying, – “Oh, we could have ridden this” and “This isn’t so bad.”, etc.  Obviously questioning our decision to truck out.  Then, maybe an hour into the trip, we came on a portion of road completely and totally underwater maybe 30 feet long, bordered on both sides by a huge 3-4′ mound of dirt, making it impassable except for thru the water.  So deep and so muddy the semi had trouble negotiating it.  At that time, Dean looked at me and we high fived.  And that was not the worst of it.  Basically it took 10 hours to go 132 km.  Yup, you can do the math.  And if you really want to compare things, check our SPOT Sat Tracker and see just how slowly we went. the faster portion near the end was the part that was paved.

Dean: I placed the SPOT Sat Tracker inside the front window of the truck.  I told Lisa that this is going to confuse the heck out of people watching our tracks — moving at 10-15 mph all night long.

I want to make sure everyone knows we understood the seriousness of our situation.  In hindsight we should have researched this route before attempting it.  We are just normal riders who got into a tough situation made worse by rain.  Having a SPOT Sat Tracker allowed us to continue knowing there are many eyes on our tracks.

Lisa: We actually did research it but we asked non-riders about the road and clearly their impression of it was different than ours and the torrential rain didn’t help anything.  But through the kindness of strangers a bad situation turned into a great memory and a grand adventure.

PS: Dean has added photos to the last several posts if you’re interested in seeing them.