A YVR Weekend

While not nearly as exciting as some of the previous posts (Not that Vancouver isn't exciting, but not quite as special as being half way across the world), I flew out to Vancouver for a weekend with a couple friends. Theoretically to get better weather, but in middle of October, it was nicer in Edmonton. No matter, we ate great food, drank good beer and wandered around for a couple days. Enjoy a few photos of the weekend.

#3 in the Modern Oasis

Hotel Room

Off to the right is Granville Island

Highly, highly recommended

To add to my fathers collection of door photos

The greenish boat below the big yacht on the left is a Wallypower 118. If you've seen "The Island" you'll recognize it.

Edmonton, please. Phase these in.

A Tale of Two Drivers

The drivers in Chile are superb. Santiago, like all large cities, can be a little harried, but by and large, the drivers are excellent.
1. They know where their cars are
2. Respect for others on the road
3. Courteous, we moved over on the highway to allow a truck to merge, when he got past us, he blinked his hazards as thanks
4. Good passing etiquitte, when they pass, it is generally in safe zones, and they leave plenty of room between you and the car
5. They drive quickly, but with respect to the conditions

There are exceptions to this, but I have not seen many.

When we went towards and into Argentina, the story is a little different.
1. They are all impatient
2. Car control is limited
3. They pass in downright stupid locations (and come very close to you. I had to slow down and weave to avoid getting clipped by a tour bus)
4. They tailgate

Therefore, it is oddly appropriate that thir license plates have a horizontal black bar running through them. Again, there are exceptions to the rule, but it seems like someone sent a bunch of Albertan drivers down to teach the Argentinians how to drive.

Days 23 - 25 - Bringing it Home

A quick hop from Los Angeles to Talca to another Apart Hotel (Basically a condo rental). Boring city, a mall 500m away where we could buy food, and that's about it.

The next morning we headed to Los Quenes via Curico, where the square has 60 Canary Palms planted. Nifty place to sit and eat for a little bit. Then we continued on to Los Quenes which was gravel for about 20 km, then the last bit was rough gravel, but offered spectacular views of the mountains.

After some astronomy opportunities, we slept and arose early to make it to the Montes Winery in time for the early tour, so we could miss the rush hour in Santiago. There is a second road that leads to Los Quenes, which fortunately is used by the mining industry, so it is in much better shape than the road we took in. We arrived well in time despite some backups on the secondary roads. The tour was good, we got to see the cellar where the premium wines are stored in barrels (and they play music to them 24 hours a day. Seriously).

Heading back to Santiago, we had 180 km to ride, and gorgeous weather to do so. We took the back highway into the city in hopes of avoiding traffic and getting a better view. Frankly, from the little bit of big city driving we did, I'm glad we avoided at least some of it. The Chileans, while excellent drivers, arn't quite sure what to do with a motorcycle that is almost as wide as a car. That and the KLRs heat up to the point where I was concerned my pants were going to light on fire from the heat billowing from the engine.

Thankfully, the GPS made no errors and shepherded us in.

For The Game Of Thrones Watchers

Central Square In Curico

River Near Los Quenes

Sunrise In Los Quenes

Montes Winery

As the music gently weeps over the barrels

Bikes returned

Days 19 - 22 - Storm Chasing

There is little fun to be had while riding through rain. What enjoyment exists is elusive at best, and non-existent in most cases.

We left Ancud, believing that we had timed the showers. This was true, right up until the ferry began to dock on the mainland, when the skies opened up. Donning our rain gear, and in the process turning ourselves into moving traffic pylons, we headed north towards Puerto Varas. Unfortunately, we followed the band of rain for about 50 km, getting significantly wet until we gave up and stopped under a bridge. Eventually the skies cleared and we continued on. After filling up with gas just before the town, we figured that the 5 km we had left was a short enough distance to make it before we were rained on again.

This proved to be an incorrect assumption. As we were going slowly riding in town, there was no slipstream to keep the rain going around us, and simply got all our gear wet. Fortunately, the hotel (1920s German colonist house) was splendidly warm.

The rain continued the next day, though at first it appeared to be dry. We pulled off the main highway towards with the plan to see three of the seven lakes (A group of lakes in Chile), and possibly two more, but the rain dashed our enthuisasm for the additional distance.

As we drove through Paguinpulli, I saw a restaurant that met two conditions:
1. It had a roof
2. It was open

We pulled into the parking lot, which turned out to be several inches of loose gravel, and the owner (Luis) dashed out to help us move the bikes to the more solid parking, then invited us inside, and promptly moved a number of chairs and hung our wet gear to dry.

It is not often that I am willing to drive a significant distance for a meal, however I encourage anyone who is within distance to go to El Mirador (S 39 38.578, W 72 20.426) and eat. Stopping in randomly, we had the best meal we have eaten in Chile and Argentina. I can here the critics saying that it was because we had a welcoming place to come in from the rain, but by the time the food arrived, we were already warm, dry and happy. Both of us had the Chicken Curry with rice (Chile grown) which was delicious to the point that my mouth is watering as I write about it. I should also mention that it happens to be built on a hillside and overlooks the lake.

Our bellies full we continued on as the rain had reduced itself to mere mist. Had it been dry, and there been no traffic (an accident backed up most of the 30km before Villarica), the road would have been a dream ride. As it was, we puttered along in second gear and admired the scenery.

Just after we arrived at the hotel we were joined by a Swede who is on a multi year trip around the world. Ken left Sweden in 2012 and rode all the way to Thailand, then shipped his bike and left Valpariso (Near Santiago) a few days ago, and by luck, was at the same hotel. Over dinner we shared our experiences with the roads and things to go see in Sourthern Chile, and taught him a few Spanish words (He speaks none).

The following morning, we aimed to wait out the rain for a couple hours by walking around the town, visiting an antique store that had been closed the day before (Some nice stuff, all unfortunately expensive), then set out when it looked dry.

Now, one would think that bringing a meteorolgist with you would result in good forcasts. It seems that the southern hemisphere is different enough that it merely gives a false of confidence, what we think is right, isn't. It rained all the way up until we hit the Routa 5 (About 60 km), and despite waiting under a tree for some time, the rain didn't lessen much. The hop to Temuco was short, and allowed us to go see the railway museum (It was closed), and wander around the town enough to realize that it is like Edmonton, if you don't work there, or have family/friends there, your reasons to end up there are pretty limited. So after a good sleep and a hearty breakfast (Nectarine pie among other things) we made the hop to Los Angeles, Chile, which is also a town like Edmonton.  So we left and returned to El Rincon, the location we stayed our first night on the bikes, and have spent the afternoon drying our gear and wandering the extensive property.

Under the bridge

Inside the El Mirador

The Curry

They grow everywhere down here

A view of the common room in Villarica

The Honks of Chile

The drivers here use their horns more than back home. I classify them into three categories:
1. Idiot! What do you think you are doing?
Tone: This is an angry honk, can be long and sustained, or a series of blasts.
Meaning: Used in impatience when stuck and they feel traffic should be moving, when pedestrians don't move quickly enough.

2. I'm here!
Tone: A polite little beep
Meaning: Primarily used to let other drivers know they are passing.

3. Good to see you!
Tone: Varies, can be short, long or a series (usually less than three) of blasts
Meaning: Nice bike, car, person on the side of the street.
Easily confused with the other two.

Days 16-18 - Los penguinos beben leche

Day 16 was Castro to Ancud via Quemchi, a seaside village whose main attraction is an island that has a 500 m pedistrian bridge connecting it. The island is a biological reserve and has a church on it as well. Back in 2000 UNESCO designated 16 churches as World Heritage sites. The churches on Chiloe (island, SW Chile) were built from wood using nautical and marine building techniques (wood joinery, etc) and are very different in style than the rest of South America. Most of the churches are 100-150 years old, rebuilt almost exactly like the ones that stood before when they were destroyed by earthquakes or fire.

In Ancud, the map given by the booking site was not accurate. At all. It took the better part of an hour, asking a few people (none of whom were at all helpful), educated guesswork, and the breaking of a few traffic laws, to find it. Decent hotel, but not built by master craftsmen. The floor is unevenly sloped, everything sqeaks, and the hot water has a mind of its own. It does however, have an east view overlooking the ocean.

After waiting out the rain the next morning, we headed out to Punilhue for a penguin tour. For 12 USD equivalent, you go out in a boat (unlike most tour boat operators, they were professional to the extreme, boat was well maintained, and the driver was smooth) and they go past a few little islands of the coast and provide commentary (In spanish only unfortunately). In addition to the penguins, we were also treated to a pair of sea lions, numerous species of birds, and a sea otter that has caught a crab.

All done and back on the bikes we headed down to a beach at the end of a road about 15 km away, and after a few slippery hills, arrived at a desterted beach that was phenomenally beautiful. Ride out was easier than in, climbing slippery hills is much more fun than going down them on a bike.

Today we went north on the peninsula to the Corona lighthouse. After waiting out part of a rainstrom on the side of the road under a tree, the day began to warm up. The best way to describe the lightouse site is as a living museum. There is a modern strobe on the tower, but the traditional light is still there, and appears to still be connected and functional. I know this because the guide/operator there encouraged us to climb the tower and look.

On the main floor there is a collection of old and new technology from lighthouses, modern solar powered beacons, juxtaposed against the old behemoths of brass and glass. We don't build things in that manner anymore, and it is a distinct loss. There is a feeling of solidity from objects constructed in that manner that is rare today (Admittedly it was probably rare then as well, only the well built pieces survived).

The rain had left us, and the ride back to Ancud was what you live for as a rider, warm, sunny, clear of traffic, and twisty. Shedding our gear at the hotel we headed to the local church museum. The wood churches mentioned above are cared for by a society helping to rebuild, restore, and preserve them. In Ancud there is a museum that shows how the traditional joinery works with examples of different joints, old pieces that were replaced during restoration, and the opportunity to climb into the tower of the old church all this is housed in. There is no way with North American safety standards that they would allow tourists up the tower. There are no rails around the holes, and the ladders are quite steep. After going up a couple stories, you arrive in a small room with old coloured glass. Quite cool.

The Bridge To Aucar Church

Los Penguinos!

Beach At The End Of The Road

Waiting Out The Storm On The Way To The Lighthouse

At The Top Of The Lighthouse

They don't make them like this anymore

The "original" light system

Road on the way back. Sunny, twisty and clear.

Days 13-15 - Gravel, Ferries and Portugese

It started off as some of the best riding we have done in Chile so far. Open sweeping corners, beautiful paving, just shy of 20 degrees, wind and a touch of cloud. Puerto Montt to La Arena to catch the ferry towards Hornopiren. We expected gravel once we got off the ferry, but the beautiful asphalt continued, until after a bridge it just stopped.

Gravel usually isn't a big deal, we slow down and take it easy, and usually the road has a consistency as to the conditions. Unfortunately, this section (40+ km of it) is under construction, and it goes from hard pack, to several inches of loose stone in about a foot. It changes mid corner, the track suddenly disappearing. For riders like Kyle and Trevor (Who have been riding like madmen since October), this sounds like fun. For my father and I, who much prefer asphalt, it is simply unpleasant.

We arrived in Hornopiren, and after some searching, managed to find the hotel we had booked, and coincidentally, met up with some bikers we met on the ferry. We left the hotel seperately only to stand in line for ferry tickets for the next day. It took a few moments, and them asking for Portugese from Google Translate before I realized that they were Brazilian. The two languages are quite similar which has thoroughly confused some of my spanish vocabulary.

The ferry office didn't open for an hour, and it is amazing the converstaions you can have through charades, google translate and our little bit of Spanish (They are functional, but not comfortable in Spanish from what I can tell). A lovely couple, we ate dinner at the hotel together, talked about football, and drank beer before heading to bed.

Up early, we packed the bikes so we could be at the ferry term... spot/ramp early, which turned out to be a waste of time as we were loaded last anyhow, but we wanted to catch the early ferry to give us more time on the other side.

The ferry runs a different route than it used to, it now runs 4 hours down a fjord where it lets everyone off, you drive 10km and catch a second ferry (Congratulations to the foursome on mountain bikes that managed to catch the ferry as well) to continue on. It used to go around everything, but took much longer. As the boat steams down the fjord it becomes commonplace to have towering mountains on either side, and I found that by a couple hours into the ride, despite occasional gorges and waterfalls to see, the mountains had become normative. There are also a large number of salmon farms on the shores, with houses usually perched nearby, a very remote place to live.

The ride after the ferry to Chaiten was decent gravel this time, as well as passing through some beautiful country, I kept stopping to take pictures.

Chaiten is a pretty town that was largely wiped out in 2008 from a landslide. Much of it has been rebuilt but there are still buildings with the first floor still half filled with silt. I wish we had more than a couple hours to wander around it, another day would have been lovely, but the ferry to Quellon only runs once per week, so we are lucky that it fit into our time table.

The short version is that the ferry left late, and this meant that when we arrived in Quellon, there wasn't enough time at the tide level to get the vehicles off, and so they delayed until just after 2000, meaning that we had an extra 5 hours to kill. The ride to Castro afterwards was great for the first kilometer, then we hit construction again. I'm beginning to believe that someone is ahead of us tearing up the roads we choose to take.

Days 11-12 - Photo Essay

After the last picture, I got request for more pictures. All the ones shown here are not necessarily from the last couple days.

Fish Market

Outside the Market

Osorno Volcano

Panorama From Partway Up The Volcano

Up the Volcano into the cloud (~1750m)

Hydrangeas and Lake

Another View From Up The Volcano

Snow Man Made

Every Trip Needs The Open Road

They Sell Clothes, and Donuts

Cathedral in Osorno behind a fountain

Lake near Bariloche

Studabaker Hawk

More Hydrangeas, they grow everywhere here

Another view from the Volcano off the Ski Lift

Days 8-10 - Steady as she goes!

As we were riding along today, I did something I never wanted to do. I sneezed in my helmet. It wasn't a case of "let's try this and see what happens", I tried to stop it. Fortunately it wasn't serious, but I'm getting ahead of myself here.

In Bariloche, I woke up at 6 AM to the sound of the outer window banging against the building, and I thought to myself, I really hope the wind dies down before we leave. It didn't. The wind on out of the town was already strong, and it got worse as we rode towards the pass. We were down to 40-50 km/h for most of it, and the gusts were blowing the bike back and forth, apparently I was leaning at 30 degrees or more in some places. After battering (and being battered) our way to the relative calm of the valley, the riding got better, until we passed Argentinian exit customs and were headed up the pass, which we hoped to take some cool GoPro footage and enjoy the numerous corners and switchbacks. The wind rejoined us having brought rain along to play as well, and what we had hoped would be a delightful ride changed into an endurance test. For a few brief kilometers after Chilean customs, it was dry and calm. Then it began to sprinkle, which quickly became a steady rainfall. From this experience I can report two things: 1. The waterproofing on our jackets and pants does hold up well 2. The big Carhart rain jacket is mostly impervious to wind and rain, and as a plus, doesn't flap around much.

We reached Osorno feeling cold (and believing that we were wet), and after a brief map consultation pulled into what they call an Apart Hotel, which I think is what they call a motel, or anything with seperate entrances to the rooms. For the folks back home, Osorno seems to be equivalent to Red Deer, an agricultural based city.

Seeking nourishment we walked around and found a grocery store and since we had access to a kitchen, purchased a cooked chicken (same price as Canada), and a few other pieces. The next day was not so intermittent showers, and we toured downtown, tried to go to the museum, only to have it closed for renovations. I'm beginning to believe that someone is actively working to keep me from going to them. Chile, being primarily a Roman Catholic nation, has cathedrals in most cities, in Osorno it is V 5 (V 1 was destroyed by an indigenous attack, V 2 & 4 by earthquake and V 3 by fire. Or a combination like that). Construction was started in the early 60s so it has a very different feel from the Bariloche Cathedral. I would have taken pictures, but as there were people actively in there, I chose not to.

Peurto Montt (where we are based out of for the next three nights) seem sto be a fairly typical coastal city, though with a large number of German bars and restaurants. We ate at the Alaman Club for dinner, and the food was delicious, likely as it had been soaked in butter.

Tomorrow, the plan is to head for the Osorno volcano (Dormant since 1869).

Days 4-7 - Miles, Decisions, and a Change of Plans

Day 4 started out poorly. I slept badly for the second night (Third if you count the plane) in a row, I think if I had looked over at the clock consistently I would have seen all the hours multiple times.

Picked up the bikes from Ride-Chile, which took about two hours so we were on the road by 11. Our destination was at KM marker 494, a guest house recommended by Tomas at Ride-Chile.

Riding out of the city was fairly easy, at the last minute I chose to rent a GPS, which for the 310 USD seemed to be a good idea. This was confirmed less than an hour later as it guided us through a complicated series of exits to go south on the Route 5. We rode straight for 160 km, as I was leading and despite the spedometers being in miles, I didn't clue in that the odometer would also be in miles. We stopped for gas and I realized that we were making better distance than I thought. Gas is about 820 CHP per liter, or about $1.85/L.

The drivers in Chile are fantastic, there is no other way to put it. They are courteous, know their vehicles, and respect the others on the road that may not be doing the same speed. With respect to speed, the limit on the #5 is 120 km/h, but not everyone does that, (Busses are limited to 100, Semi trucks to 90), but even normal cars will putt along at 80 or 90 in the right lane. Everyone drives in the right lane, only pulling out into the left lane to pass.

We arrived at mile marker 494 and took the exit and down a gravel and sandy road got to a little guesthouse called El Rincon. It is a small patch of paradise. The beds were comfortable, the hosts (A German/British couple) were impecabble and the price was reasonable. They helped us out with maps and suggestions, and we booked a hotel for Osorno (About 400 km south) for the next night.

Unfortunately, Friday night wasn't much better in the sleep department for me, I think I got about 4 hours. At breakfast I still wasn't feeling well, the host Wendy made me a cup of a local tea which helped and I lay down for an hour which meant that we didn't get riding until about 1030.

We arrived in Osorno, and once at the hotel, my father and I were chatting about how much fun we were having. Which is to say, not much. For seasoned riders 400 km in a day isn't much, and while we can do it, it simply isn't very much enjoyment in it. We did 507 km the first day, and 438 the second. To shorten a longer discussion, we decided to ride to San Carlos de Bariloche (~240 km) the next day and make a final decision about if it was worth the discomfort to go all the way to Ushuaia (rain, wind, many long days back to back). Finally that night with the help of earplugs and exhaustion, I finally got about 6 straight solid hours of sleep in addition to a couple more on either side.

I'll spoil that next part and say we have changed the plan and have decided that touring southern Chile with shorter days but being free to stop and see things is more to our liking. On that note, about 20 km towards Bariloche, I saw an Auto Museum and decided to pull over. This turned out to be a fabulous decision. It is the first car musem to open in Chile back in late 1995, and is run by Bernando Eggers who loves cars for their beauty and memories. We got a personal tour from him, who had quite good English (despite his protestations). We heard his story about his love of cars as child, the loss of the passion when his parents were killed in a car accident, then he left them further behind when he got married. Then his wife urging him to return to them back in the early 1990s. His collection is primarily Studebakers, with other brands mixed in, as well as vintage cameras, and a few other things that "Interested him when he saw them". The museum came out of the fact that he had acquired 15 or so cars and his daughters and wife thought it would be nice to show them off. In fact, they agree so much that they agree that the cars will not be sold, they are for the museum so people can see them.

Bernando is the kind of man that I love to see collecting cars, it is for the simple love of them, not as investments or trailer queens, a good number of them are still road worthy (Others were in far too poor shape mechanically to be worth fully restoring), and he still drives them.

A very worthwhile stop, and a wonderful experience. We kept on, and the road began to be a little twisty, and into the mountains. Then we passed through the Chilean border (Permisson for you, then permission for your bike/car to leave Chile), with a little help from Mattias from Moto-Aventura (Who explained a few quick process questions and ended up doing a quick translation and chat with a guy at Argentinian customs, a big shout out of thanks to him!

Unlike Canadian/US customs, there is a bit of a gap between leaving Chile (Officially) and entering Argentina. In this case it is a mountain pass with switchbacks, hairpins, volcanic ash and stunning scenery. We crusied along at 60-70 km/h, enjoying the ride, the scenery, and the pace, as we knew that we only had 240 km that needed to be done for the day. For the non-bikers out there, we tend to meet each other, and we chatted with a gentleman and his wife from Argentina who were headed home, who has a friend taking two years to ride up to Alaska. I gave him my card and mentioned that I might know people who might be interested in meeting up with him (Ahem, Travis, Kyle, Trevor), as he arrives in Canada in 18 ish months.

We both left, he got out ahead of us and rode off. We caught up to him after more stunning scenery in what seems to be the Banff of western Aregentina, and I caught him just leaving a gas station (If you find gas in Argentina, you fill up. Period.) I asked if this station took visa, and he kindly asked the attendant who said no, and he told us to follow him to another gas station down the road that did. After waiting in line for some time to get gas (A novel experience for me) we headed out for the last 90 km to Bariloche. After about 50 km of riding along a lake, we opened up into what I believe is the Argentinian altaplano. Wow. You go from forested lake area to open desert in about 5 km. The pictures I doubt will do it justice.

The wind has a long lake to build up speed, and it buffets quite a bit as you turn to head south to Bariloche, and once we arrived at the hotel and parked our bikes (which was an ordeal in itself), we talked about dealing with that for days, and decided that a change of plans would be far more fun. So, we found a different hotel for the second night in Bariloche.

So all of today we spent being tourists in Bariloche, found new sunglasses for dad (his broke when they fell off the bike), exploring a church that was initially built in 1944 in Gothic style and is still under construction today. We tried to go to the Patagonia museum, but it turns out that it is closed on Mondays. Dang.

Tomorrow we head back towards Osorno for a couple days, then down to Puerte Montt.

My Father, Bernando And I Next To His Prized Avanti

Cathedral In Bariloche

Lake with Lenticular clouds