Potosi to Tupiza, 195 miles (150 dirt)
Which describes our first attempt at reaching Salar de Unuyi, the largest salt flat in the world.
Oh boy… hope you’re comfortable…
Last night was my worst night on the trip (Amie’s second, second only to the night she spent on the bathroom floor in Costa Rica, see the archive for all the gory details). We checked back into the same hotel we stayed in a couple days ago, only this time we couldn’t get a room with a private bathroom. No problem, at least there is safe bike parking I thought. WRONG! Big problem. As we were getting into bed for the night, Amie got “the fury” (diareah) and had to run across the courtyard in her pjs to the bathroom. She was there for about a half hour before she came back. My problem with tonight was breathing again. Every time I would start to drift off to sleep, I would wake up gasping like I was being strangled. Meanwhile, Amie would come back to bed for a few minutes, before having to put her flipflops on in a rush to get across the courtyard to the bathroom… only now its raining. I solved my problem by taking Niqul at 2:30am. Amie solved hers by emptying her guts.
We woke up to rain. At this altitude rain is bad, because its usually very close to freezing, and that means we’re freezing. We had a very hard time finding our way out of town and the road we needed for Uynui. A truck backed out in front of us and I locked the rear wheel and skid about 30’ just missing its bumper… It wasn’t even 9am.
We eventually found the road we were looking for after asking countless locals. To our surprise, its not paved. And since its raining, its mud. We thought we’d give it a try because who knows, maybe over the mountain its not raining. Well, after about 20miles, we realized that we probably weren’t going to make it the 150 we needed to by dark. To make matters worse, we weren’t carrying any water and there was no town to speak of between us and the salt flats.
Feeling defeated, we found ourselves back in Potosi at noon looking for the highway south. Again, we had to ask countless locals as there are no signs and we zigzagged across Potosi for about 30minutes before finding the highway to the Argentina border. Luckily it was paved. Unluckily, only for 35miles of the 185 more we had to do! We stopped at the last town and I had lunch at a roadside restaurant. The place was swarming with flies. Amie was having a power bar and almonds, but I needed something more substantial. Places like these don’t have menus. You go in and say “almuerzo?” (lunch?) and they say yes or no, and then bring you out whatever they feel like. I had a soup with vegetables, animal fat, and flies. The vegetables were good, I fished out the flies, and skipped the fat.
We road on hard packed dirt and gravel for hours. I wondered if we were going to make it, we were only traveling at about 20-30mph and 150miles is along way to go when its afternoon. Plus, even though the rain had stopped, who knew for how long? Like a miracle, in the distance was a paved road. ?!??! Could this be possible? Our stretch of dirt over? Just as the front wheel touched cement it started to rain. We couldn’t believe our luck. The road we were on in the rain would have been an impassible muddy mess. Our luck had changed!
Or had it? “300m Detour.” Huh? “100m Detour.” Just then we were directed off the brand new cement back onto the mud road. Turns out the road is still being built, and for some reason, only in incontinuous sections. We spent the next few hours doing about 5mph on dirt road along side the paved road, crossing onto it for a few minutes every hour, our hopes raised each time, but only shot down shortly there after by the cursed detour signs.
The dirt road was a river. I don’t know how I managed to keep the bike upright. Amie chose to walk many of the river-crossings as she would rather not risk swimming. We saw a town in the distance as it was nearly 4pm and the rain clouds ahead looked black. With any luck there would be lodging for us. And there was: a truckers dormitory. Camping would be better.
We pressed on to the amazement of the locals. At the gas station, the attendant told us we had only 80km to go. Could we make it? Maybe. We were going for broke. The ground dried up a bit and we picked up our speed. Then my arms just about shook out of their sockets as we crossed what I can only describe as miles of washboard dirt road. Short steep grading was shaking us and our bike to pieces. Literally. Bolts were coming loose, and I could barely hold on, even at low speed.
More rain, more mud, more washboard, but we made it to Tapiza at 6:55pm (dark at 7pm). We rolled through the town to the nicest hotel listed in Lonely Planet. I told Amie we would find a sanctuary tonight, and I was able to keep that promise. I asked for the best room in the hotel, and we got something very nice. What a day. Amie was very frazzled as it didn’t seem we would ever make it. Camping in the middle of know where was a good possibility.
Oh boy… hope you’re comfortable…
Last night was my worst night on the trip (Amie’s second, second only to the night she spent on the bathroom floor in Costa Rica, see the archive for all the gory details). We checked back into the same hotel we stayed in a couple days ago, only this time we couldn’t get a room with a private bathroom. No problem, at least there is safe bike parking I thought. WRONG! Big problem. As we were getting into bed for the night, Amie got “the fury” (diareah) and had to run across the courtyard in her pjs to the bathroom. She was there for about a half hour before she came back. My problem with tonight was breathing again. Every time I would start to drift off to sleep, I would wake up gasping like I was being strangled. Meanwhile, Amie would come back to bed for a few minutes, before having to put her flipflops on in a rush to get across the courtyard to the bathroom… only now its raining. I solved my problem by taking Niqul at 2:30am. Amie solved hers by emptying her guts.
We woke up to rain. At this altitude rain is bad, because its usually very close to freezing, and that means we’re freezing. We had a very hard time finding our way out of town and the road we needed for Uynui. A truck backed out in front of us and I locked the rear wheel and skid about 30’ just missing its bumper… It wasn’t even 9am.
We eventually found the road we were looking for after asking countless locals. To our surprise, its not paved. And since its raining, its mud. We thought we’d give it a try because who knows, maybe over the mountain its not raining. Well, after about 20miles, we realized that we probably weren’t going to make it the 150 we needed to by dark. To make matters worse, we weren’t carrying any water and there was no town to speak of between us and the salt flats.
Feeling defeated, we found ourselves back in Potosi at noon looking for the highway south. Again, we had to ask countless locals as there are no signs and we zigzagged across Potosi for about 30minutes before finding the highway to the Argentina border. Luckily it was paved. Unluckily, only for 35miles of the 185 more we had to do! We stopped at the last town and I had lunch at a roadside restaurant. The place was swarming with flies. Amie was having a power bar and almonds, but I needed something more substantial. Places like these don’t have menus. You go in and say “almuerzo?” (lunch?) and they say yes or no, and then bring you out whatever they feel like. I had a soup with vegetables, animal fat, and flies. The vegetables were good, I fished out the flies, and skipped the fat.
We road on hard packed dirt and gravel for hours. I wondered if we were going to make it, we were only traveling at about 20-30mph and 150miles is along way to go when its afternoon. Plus, even though the rain had stopped, who knew for how long? Like a miracle, in the distance was a paved road. ?!??! Could this be possible? Our stretch of dirt over? Just as the front wheel touched cement it started to rain. We couldn’t believe our luck. The road we were on in the rain would have been an impassible muddy mess. Our luck had changed!
Or had it? “300m Detour.” Huh? “100m Detour.” Just then we were directed off the brand new cement back onto the mud road. Turns out the road is still being built, and for some reason, only in incontinuous sections. We spent the next few hours doing about 5mph on dirt road along side the paved road, crossing onto it for a few minutes every hour, our hopes raised each time, but only shot down shortly there after by the cursed detour signs.
The dirt road was a river. I don’t know how I managed to keep the bike upright. Amie chose to walk many of the river-crossings as she would rather not risk swimming. We saw a town in the distance as it was nearly 4pm and the rain clouds ahead looked black. With any luck there would be lodging for us. And there was: a truckers dormitory. Camping would be better.
We pressed on to the amazement of the locals. At the gas station, the attendant told us we had only 80km to go. Could we make it? Maybe. We were going for broke. The ground dried up a bit and we picked up our speed. Then my arms just about shook out of their sockets as we crossed what I can only describe as miles of washboard dirt road. Short steep grading was shaking us and our bike to pieces. Literally. Bolts were coming loose, and I could barely hold on, even at low speed.
More rain, more mud, more washboard, but we made it to Tapiza at 6:55pm (dark at 7pm). We rolled through the town to the nicest hotel listed in Lonely Planet. I told Amie we would find a sanctuary tonight, and I was able to keep that promise. I asked for the best room in the hotel, and we got something very nice. What a day. Amie was very frazzled as it didn’t seem we would ever make it. Camping in the middle of know where was a good possibility.
Dirt roads aren't bad... when they're dry
Uh-oh, doesn't look like they'll be dry for long
Miles and miles, with nothing in sight
The road became a river
Amie would rather walk than chance a swim
Wet washboard is the worst
Our only friends today
Yuck
posted by Pedro and Maria at 2:55 PM
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