Patagonia, Day 8 - Perito Moreno to the middle of nowhere

Ruta 40. Ruta 40. And more Ruta 40. South. Long, straight, looong sections. Arrow straight in places, but where it crosses rivers or small valleys, it sweeps in wide, long arcs that go on forever; feels like 180 degrees. As we stream along, realising the potential of the bikes' engines, in the distance, kms ahead, you can see the heat haze on the road bending images from things further away. Car headlights are especially spectacular as you see the headlights and their reflection, even in the midday sun.

The landscape is predominantly flat and unending. It's only when you leave Europe do you realise how big the World is, and here it's certainly big. We travel for over 200km like this, stopping only for a quick coffee and fuel after 100km and then again for lunch by a river bank, before we turn off for more gravelly girations. 

Lunch stop - time to relax

At lunch we take the opportunity for a group photo with all the bikes, lined up and us puting on our best poses. Then it's 30km to our stop for the night, La Angostura ranch. It's in the middle of nowhere, set in a valley, sheltered from the wind and all forms of communication bar satellite TV (which we don't see) and road (gravel track).

View over the ranch

Previously a station for sheep farming, the ranch now caters for tourists as a hostel/hotel and camping ground. The interior is decorated with paraphernalia from generations past, old pictures, belts, maps, arrowheads and 78rpm LPs; it has lots of character. On the floor is the pelt of a puma, which must be 1.5m long, not including the tail. This is from the area and was shot locally. In the shearing shed there must be ten to 15 more hanging along with sheep pelts and some strange animal none of us can identify; looks like something out of the X-Files. The owners say that they are paid 80 dollars for each big cat kill. Seems a shame that animals like this have to be killed, but as they prey on the farmed sheep the farmers pay top dollar to stop that happening. The cougars are protected in the national parks, but here they are targets. Man and nature just can't coexist.

Camping in the grounds is another group of bikers and before dinner the two biker gangs square up against each other, armed with chains and big spanners, ready for a punch-up. Just kidding. In reality, while I'm typing this blog (on a real keyboard this time) Danny and Duff are discussing cooking, roast dinners and baking; while in-between Danny is reading about growing a herb garden. Bikers are such a hard bunch.

One of the other group's bikes - shipped from Europe

The other group lost a man yesterday. Rescue teams armed with their huge antenna'd 5MHz radios were out looking for him all night and today. He turned up safe and sound after falling and being able to pick up his bike from a gulley. They don't have a sweeper, hence he wasn't missed until the evening. Our system is better, and safer.

Dinner will be a huge barbie, but Ay ney ken whether there will be any fish or eggs. The roast lamb smells great. The sun is shining and it is a very pleasant evening. It's really windy here and it's like that most days, but that's great for drying clothes and I've rinsed out me smalls and they dried in no time on the bike's luggage rack.

No wifi here, or cellular signal, but so far, no one has the jitters. The strange thing is, we've reverted to talking.

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Patagonia, Day 7 - Coyohaique to Perito Moreno

Again we get lost leaving our hotel, but after a tour of Coyohaique we find Ruta 7 and head east back towards Argentina. With all this to and fro travel, it's sometimes difficult to remember whether you're in Chile or Argentina; we are starting in Chile this morning. As Chilean roads are less connected due to all the islands and inlets on the Pacific coastline we have to keep crossing borders to continue making progress to the End of the World.

Ruta 7 leaves the town and the roads are relatively straight on the flat landscape, but begin to curve as they head into the hills. Every now and again the tarmac gives way to a lattice of grey bricks like driveway block paving, which can be anything from a few metres to several hundred. Not sure why the bricks are there, it could be that they are repairs covering tectonic fault lines and cracks, but they are laid impeccably and feel almost as good as the tarmac, or that could just be the BMW electronic suspension doing its magic. The roads in Chile have been impressive, well maintained where they exist, and well signposted showing the curves and hazards. Makes progress easy; until you meet the diligent repairers. Then you stop at the "pare" sign and wait for the man with the walkie-talkie to turn it to the green "siga" side. Only then can you soak up more roadsigns. One often seen is "sugerida" and I can only assume it means 'sweet roads for ridas' ahead as it usually precedes a killer set of curves.

While waiting at one checkpoint, we look back to see a police car sitting patiently behind us with its lights flashing. When siga appears, the police car follows us, first through the roadworks and then onto the regular highway. It's always unnerving to be followed by a police car, but this time the lights are flashing and we're not stopping! The 'chase' continues for several kms until the police car gives up, or perhaps ran out of fuel, or maybe became bored. For the avoidance of doubt, police cars here always drive around with flashing lights, not just during an emergency.

Turning from Ruta 7 onto X65, we see our first sugerida of many and climb into the hills again. Sugerida after sugerida of awesome curves. From a viewpoint at the top we can see a green milky lake in the distance, Lake Buenos Aires, which straddles the border. The Chilean border post in Ria Ibanez is not far, but between us and it is a very impressive collection of hairpin bends; this time on tarmac. Now, we're back in the Alps.

At the Chilean border post, we spend an hour waiting and I kill time by playing in the children's' playground. We could now take the ferry across the lake, but instead we take the land route and once again enter a virtual no mans land before reaching the Argentine border. The trail linking the two is a winding gravel track with more amazing views over the lake.

The Argentine border post is manned by a single guard. Friendly enough, but completely overwhelmed by our mass group. We have to fill out all the forms by hand individually, and the guard takes time to carefully overwrite each letter to make sure the carbon copy underneath is clear. He only allows two of us in the room with him, so the rest queue outside and it's a long process.

By this point, it's well past lunch time and very hot, so while we wait, we snack on biscuits in the shade.Those who've finished their paperwork follow AJ into Argentina. The road is still dirt and after a few km, I'm the first corner man. Feels like I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere and one by one the others pass by. I'm there for 30 minutes or so before Cory finishes his paperwork and reaches me. Then I'm unleashed and there follows about an hour of intense gravel riding as the bike dances, glides and slides its way to Perito Moreno. The GS is ever impressive, seeming to get grip where none exists and you can feel it biting as the spinning rear wheel finds traction. For simplicity I've put it into enduro mode and the resulting power slides are enjoyable, but safely limited by the electronics. The rear tyre is taking a real pounding by the rough terrain and is showing signs of hard use.

125 horses escaping from the rear wheel

En route I pass Mark, Graham, Mick and Hugo on corner man duties and Graham ends up waiting there for an hour in the sun, eventually hiding behind a road sign for shade. Poor Hugo doesn't have the luxury of shade and he's there for 50 minutes.

On reaching Perito Moreno, it seems Mark has added further war wounds to his bike. Yesterday he managed to ding the front rim and the resulting bulge gave him a slow puncture, which was partially fixed with silicon gasket sealant (not meant for the job but seems to work) and today he added a further four dings. His rim will almost certainly need to be replaced, which could be expensive. No one else has had this problem. But we think the lowered suspension on his bike is partly to blame as the reduced travel means the tyre takes a bigger role in cushioning; it could also be because Mark has an eager throttle hand. Most of us have found a place in our merry band, Steve, Tpong and Christopher are the photographers, Mick and Ray the font of a million funny stories, Gerard, keeps Cory on his toes, Hugo the napper, Duff the philosopher, Danny the butt of most jokes, me the blogger, and Mark. Well, Mark is the reason we carry such a big tool kit! ;-)

Perito Moreno is not particularly exciting. A few supermarkets, hotels, and restaurants. We struggle to find somewhere to eat at 6pm, settling for a cafe serving pizza, which turns out to be frozen and microwaved, so we leave. By 8 the choice has expanded and we eat at a place that only opened a few days ago and we probably doubled its total number of visitors. Unlike other towns we've seen so far, there seems to be a thriving youth culture here. Groups walk up and down, drive by with stereos pumping the beats, or just 'hang'. Feels like Wembley without the decent food. Perito Moreno seems to exist because it's a stop-off point. Can't see any other reason for it to be here.

Not exactly spoiled by choice in Perito Moreno

Tomorrow night we're staying at a ranch. Should be interesting. We might get a chance to ride something with real horse power.

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Patagonia, Day 6 - Puyuhuapi to Coyohaique

The day starts with Steve moaning that the hotel owners, who are clearly speaking German to each other, are not responding to his German greeting. The lady quite happily replies "guten morgan" to my pigeon German. Perhaps it's his Lancashire accent that threw them? 'ap'n. Steve observes that we haven't really met any interesting locals to photograph yet, they're all too European. It's true it's all very European and not like our usual exotic jaunts to far flung places. India, Cambodia, Bolivia and Mongolia - the peoples and cultures were very different to what we're mostly familiar with....

Damp out, and we all have to wipe down our seats and mirrors before setting off. The roads are also a little slippy, tarmac with a layer of dirt and gravel in places sees me being very cautious on the heavy 1200GS. After a few km I stop and realise the 'adjustments' I made to my rear brake yesterday are causing them to bind. I smell burning, see smoke, and my wheel is now locked solid! Cory arrives in a few minutes and we slacken off the brake. Back on the road and everything is back to normal thankfully.

I catch up with Mark and Gerard waiting at the roadworks shortly afterwards as they had become detached from the main group after stopping to take photos or other roadside diversions. We then wait for ten minutes or so while the road crews clear the rocks that they had just blasted. We pass by the huge machines drilling holes for the dynamite but unfortunately don't get a chance to take any photos.
 

Stopping for some dynamite action

We're skirting the Pacific shoreline and this is the new road being cut into the rocky cliffs that meet the sea; the Pacific views are superb and it's not hard to imagine that until relatively recently the only access to this area was by sea.

Early morning Pacific bay shore after leaving Puyuhuapi

The gravel road heads uphill via a series of sharp hairpins cut through the dense forest and then down again on the other side. In the Alps, hairpins are to be savoured as a chance to hone your cornering skills, but here the unstable surface waits ready to laugh at your inevitable deficiencies; I had a few moments on the 1200GS. In my mind I imagine carving a majestic arc, spraying a rooster tail out behind me, but in reality I'm in first gear crawling around the curve trying desperately not to fall off and ruin my bikerdom hairdo.

More roadworks, but time to recover after the series of gravel hairpins

The gravel eventually gives way to tarmac and before lunch we traverse a veritable carpet of smooth tarmac as it winds its way up and down between the snow topped mountains. The next time we stop, we all have huge grins. Lunch is sushi in a town called Aisen and I dine alfresco with my hommies.

After lunch we become momentarily lost leaving Aisen and end up in a port/naval base at Puerto Chacabuco. Back-tracking we take a different route out of Aisen and find ourselves back on Ruta 240. More great riding roads and the group spreads out with their different paces. Now the scenery could be California, with some distinctly Yosemite-like vistas in the wide open sections. In places the road runs past a fast flowing river in the shade and momentarily you can feel the air temperature change dramatically as if you've entered a refrigerator. And then you emerge into the sunlight and the heat again; it was 29C in the shade today.

En route to Coyohaique

For the second time on this trip I feel a splat at my chin and a fine spray coat my lips. Of course it's fly blood. Moments like these you're glad a) that you ride with mouth shut, b) that you carry a water reservoir backpack and feeder tube, which you can used to clean your mouth and lips without stopping. And of course you don't want to stop. You're in the groove, you've never felt so alive, senses poised to react to the road conditions that change in fractions of a second. I'm sure bikers have sharper reactions than regular road users. The number one rule to remember at all times: make sure you can stop within what you can see ahead. Don't blindly plough into bends, positively seek visibility, and slow for crests and dips. And be wary of cows, small children and snappy dogs jumping out.

This afternoon I'm on the lowly 650GS Sertao, less than half the power of the mighty 1200GS, but I'm still really enjoying it. As a single cylinder engine, it vibrates more than the other bikes, however it still pulls well. In fact I took one of these engines to the Alps once and had a blast there; the same engine is waiting for me at Brussels airport on my return. As I've said before, it doesn't matter what you ride, it's the riding and the roads that count, and ride we do.

Over dinner talk is of sideways action in the dirt, juddering, slipping, moments, skating, wobbling and tank-slappers. Must have been a good day then.

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Patagonia, Day 5 - Esquel to Puyuhuapi

No midnight pop songs or Karaoke last night, so no excuse for a late start. Despite that, I always seem to be the last out and ready to go, and last to leave. Today that's not good as we need to reach certain roadworks before the road closes at 1pm.

The first town we pass through after leaving Esquel on Ruta 259, is a really very pretty town, lush green, well maintained streets, manicured lawns and people sweeping the pavements. I think the name was Trevelin, sounds vaguely Welsh. After this the road turns to gravel and I give the 1200 some beans. I make a real nuisance of myself as the spinning rear wheel kicks gravel into anyone behind me, especially those I've just overtaken. Steve had a stone hit him in the chest. Soon I'm behind the leader AJ, but I've lost all my buddies. Sorry guys..... I don't overtake for the rest of the day.

Ruta 259 heads south and then turns west into the mountains. On Google maps the road stops, but we carry on as the road continues as a smaller gravel track. It carries on for about 50km until we meet the border with Chile. Then it's the usual border formalities, but this time all our luggage is searched.

Chile Customs border post

While we're waiting for our collection of passport stamps to increase, the TV in the waiting area is showing what appears to be a brand new spectator sport: football played in a large blow-up swimming pool. Imagine beach volleyball meets it's a knockout with an all female team. You get the picture; scorchio! I was impressed that the toilets flushed blue; very posh. Gerard says I'm impressed by the strangest things.

The cleanest toilets at any border crossing?

Welcome to Chile.  Again!

Then we're back into Chile and now on a tarmaced road. But not for long as the tarmac soon runs out again.

Through Futaleufu and the national park and more long and wide sweeping gravel roads. Roads in the area are gradually being paved, so we constantly meet roadwork teams and diggers and stop signs. Having stopped for a road levelling machine, somehow we end up on the wrong side of a small ridge in loose gravel. Our path is narrow but we dare not risk climbing over the ridge to the firmer ground. Ray takes a fall as his wheel digs in; he's alright, however his deposit will be dented. We concertina behind the ongoing recovery but he's soon on his way and we clear this rough patch shortly after.

I have my own 'fall' around the same time as I roll to a stop and lose my balance as my foot doesn't find the ground underneath. Fortunately it's not deep gravel or deep sand, but deep Gerard, who now finds himself as the filling in a sandwich between myself and Brett. Brett manages to rescue us both by jumping off his bike and pulling me back upright so that we don't all end up as a Dom-induced toppled domino stack.

Rafting and kayaking are popular in this area as we pass many vans and trailers loaded with rafts and kayaks. Popular also are hiking and cycling, the latter whose devotees sometimes meander all over the road as we approach; after Bolivia's Death Highway, Steve is very wary to avoid them.

Steve and Mark both have slow punctures. Steve's from a 4 inch rusty nail, which Cory and AJ manage to plug. But Mark's will be more difficult to deal with as he's managed to bend the rim. His wheels hold enough air to continue but he'll need a permanent solution to last the trip. Surely not another bike Mark has terminated?

AJ plugging Steve's puncture - note the big nail below!

With 70km to go before our 1pm deadline, we realise it's not going to happen so we stop for lunch in La Junta and find a nice little cafe for steak, chicken or corn. The creamed corn is good. A few guys have coffee after launch but Rays face is a picture when he discovers that his 'espresso' is Nescafe instant and worse, it's powder!

After lunch more gravel as we reach the roadworks that close the road between 1 and 5pm. It's then jumping from one set of 'guy with flag' to another, but at least the road is open. For this section I serve as sweeper, while Cory waits in the car queue, as bikes are allowed to jump to the front :-). Now I'm 'management' I feel a huge gulf open up between me and the rest of the guys who resent the ultimate power and responsibility bestowed upon me. Truth is, my only qualification is my fluoro yellow helmet! I'm really the black sheep today. ;-)

In places the gravel we encounter through the day is compacted into washboard horizontal ridges which are bike killers. Everything shakes apart and it's really tough on the bikes' suspensions. Even the mighty 1200GS is not immune and it's normally very composed suspenders get into a twist at times. Still, that this leviathan handles reasonable well in the dirt, is a testament to BMW engineering, and the 1200 gives a good account of itself, even compared to smaller nimbler machines. Standing on the pegs when it gets super rough I end up gripping the bars with a vice like grip. Even then I feel them almost being pulled from hands in places and at times the bars wag violently in a mini "tank slapper". Traction control off at times today as well and this let's you do some very entertaining power slides where the opportunity allows.

We arrive in Puyuhuapi, a tsunami hazard zone on the Pacific coast, and plan to head to the local hot springs for a soak. But the cost doesn't make sense when the manager refuses to give a discount of the 30 dollars day rate. The place is nearly empty but they lose our business and we lose our appetites to eat there. Wifi seems to be difficult to get in our hotel and some of the guys are getting withdrawal symptoms.

Tsunami hazard zone!

 No borders tomorrow, as we're in Chile for a few days, so we can leave later than this morning and get an extra 30mins in bed. Woohoo! Mornings are tough wherever you are.

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Patagonia, Day 4 - Bariloche to Esquel

Last night, anyone with a room overlooking the street was woken in the wee small hours by a live band playing rock and pops songs. Apparently they were quite good, but in my foggy haze I couldn't tell. Duff says the drumming was dull but in time. It stopped at about 430 in the morning. Despite this, we're all at breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Well, we're all at breakfast.

The morning's riding starts with a trip to Llao Llao; the place we rode to last night. We spend a little longer at the famous hotel than we did yesterday, before the whole group dissolves and somehow leaves me alone. Even Cory has gone. Realising something's up, I head back down to the main road and catch up with Cory, who seems rather bemused that I'm behind him. As sweeper, Cory should always be at the back of the group picking up the pieces.

View from Llao Llao Hotel

After the Llao Llao hotel we complete the Llao Llao circuit. This is a loop of about 50km that takes in some very beautiful and tranquil scenery on or about the various lakes and islands here. On one island in the distance is what I presume is a large hotel, but set on a hill top among the tree, it could equally be the lair of an evil James Bond villain. What ever it is, it looks impressive.

Moving on we encounter a short gravel road which links to the main road south, Ruta 40. It gives me a chance to experiment with the "Enduro" mode on my bike. It had been in rain mode after already playing earlier, but I soon discover that makes the traction control kick in way too early and results in a very juddery lack of progress. Enduro mode allows a certain level of wheel spin, essential for getting anywhere on loose gravely or sandy terrains. With Enduro enabled I am able to traverse the road; the alternative is to turn off traction control altogether, but with 125 wild ponys to control, that's for men with hair on their chests.

Joining Ruta 40, we make good time to our lunch stop by a lake. No fine dining, today we make our own sandwiches from a collection of savoury goodies. Before lunch is setup, AJ and I go for a swim in the lake. Cold at first, but very refreshing; and I've always wanted to be a commando.

The afternoon sees us running along roads surrounded by mountains that could be the Alps, Italy even, perhaps the Dolomites? Later we enter another forest filled with the same dead grey trees we saw yesterday on the Chile/Argentine border. The road winds its way through the hills and emerges eventually onto a plain. A long road, holding hands with telegraph poles, goes on forever, straight as a die and just invites right hand abuse.

My experimentation with the Electronic Suspension Adjustment on my bike has revealed that "hard" is best in the twisties to keep good control, but for less demanding roads "soft" or "normal" smooths the ride very well indeed. Never has ESA worked so well for me! (Professional joke there)

Dynamic ESA - where the magic happens

The afternoon is sweltering again, and most of us are riding with minimal outers and relying on our riding armour to deflect the flies from our delicate Nivea softened skin. Doesn't work so well where there's a gap in the armour; a fly, wasp or bee hitting you at 100kph can be painful. My bike temperature gauge says 28C, but it feels hotter. We stop for an ice cream, but the small bespectacled serving girl ('Surly Sally') refuses to serve us unless we speak Spanish and pay first. The queue thus moves very slowly. At some point we stop again for petrol, typically every 250km, and in the heat we all huddle together under the shade of a tree, looking very much like cattle under the only shade in a hot field.

Our stay for tonight is the Hosteria Angelina in a small town called Esquel. Seems to be thriving and busy but there's no obvious sign of what supports it. Steve and I go for another run and make our way through the poorer end of the town and all the way to the top of the local rocky hill overlooking the urban landscape. The view is grand as we're over 250m above the town.

Aye, a grand view, lad

Another early start tomorrow as we cross the border again back into Chile. Hopefully that band that woke us this morning, isn't on tour and won't be playing Esquel tonight.

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Patagonia, Day 3 - Osorno to Bariloche

Day 3 sees our first proper ride: about 250km eastward from Osorno. The roads are flat and long through wide open countryside and farmland, and because the tarmac is good quality, at times it's very fast. After about 80km we begin to climb slightly through a forest and the roads take on a different character with sweeping bends. Soon we hit the Chile border post and handover our entry chits from Santiago airport. Then were through. But wait, are we in Argentina yet? Not quite as it happens.

We roll on, continuing our upward trend and the green forest turns to grey. The majority of trees appear dead as if stripped bare by a catastrophic event and then dried by the sun over many years; is it acid rain? This scarred landscape continues for a few kilometres. As the road flattens out we seem to have reached the crest of the road and an open space emerges with a few welcome signs and monuments indicating that this is now Argentina. We pose for the inevitable photos, with Danny and Duff getting good value from their selfie sticks. The weather is lovely, with blue sky, few clouds and it's warm. Perhaps too warm, I'm sweltering when stationary.

Moving on and now downward along more fast, sweeping bends, and 40km after 'leaving' Chile, we get our second taste of South American border bureaucracy as we 'import' our expensive bikes into Argentina (the first taste was the extended entry procedure at Santiago airport). Getting out of Chile was relatively simple, almost as if they were glad to get rid of us, but getting into Argentina was again an extended affair, even so, it was with reasonable efficiency and a smile it has to be said. Argentinians definitely seem to be a friendly bunch. It takes an hour or so to clear the customs, but the chance for a comfort break and a stretch is welcome. Then we're free spirits again.

Lunch occurs not long after at a very pleasant restaurant overlooking yet another lake -this is the Lake District after all. We hide from the sun under parasols as the surprisingly fine cuisine is served. Lunch over and it's another 100km or so to today's destination San Carlos de Bariloche.

Although we have all signed out bikes individually, we swap between ourselves. Most are keen to try my 1200GS and most are impressed. I try Gerard's 800GS, which in fact turns out to be Mick's bike because Gerard already did a swap! The 800 impresses me, the suspension is compliant and the engine almost as responsive and powerful as the 1200, it's lighter on its feet and as it's almost the same engine I have at home, I feel very comfortable on it. Then I try Steve's niggly bike, a long in the tooth F650GS twin, to see what he's been complaining about. I'm slightly baffled as I have a real blast on this, and can't find anything to complain about. The engine is less powerful than the other two bikes for sure, but it's plenty strong enough and can easily keep up a good pace. With almost 70000 km on the clocks it is well used but still eager and smooth. The smaller wheels mean it is noticeably more nimble than the other two and maybe this is what Steve is observing? With me riding, it can be made to shimmy, but only if I force it to do so. For me the bike is fine, and I'm really surprised how much I enjoy riding this relatively lowly bike and how good it feels for its age - a bit like me perhaps!

Back on my own bike and we roll into town as if we were in the Alps. Bariloche could almost be Zermatt or Innsbruck with wooden balconied chalets and an abundance of chocolate, climbing and ski shops.

It's only 5pm, so Hugo, Graham and I decide to go out for a ride after dumping our bags at the hotel. We head for Llao Llao a famous area a few clicks away. The views over the lake are even better here and we stop to admire them and while we're at it, fulfil a public service taking pictures of couples with their own cameras; they're pleased. Traffic on the road there is a drag and whilst we can easily jump past cars, we decide not to, as with all the side roads, pedestrians and hotels, it was prudent not to - safety first. The police are out in force, so double reason to take it easy. Thus we follow the stream of cars, which Gerard particularly doesn't enjoy.

We meet for dinner at 9pm, which seems ridiculously late but that's the thing here, so we're going to have to get used to it. Then, after haggling about the petrol kitty, it's bed time. But first a short walk to help digestion and of course the endless thumb tapping on my BlackBerry keyboard to finish today's blog entry that normally starts at dinner - I'm as ever anti-social to the core.

An extra hour in bed tomorrow, as we leave at 9am for a slightly longer ride, there's no border crossing to contend with, so we have time in hand. Can't remember where we're going tomorrow, I just follow the herd. Mooooo!

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Patagonia, Day 2 - the warm up lap.

If Day 1 was arrival, Day 2 is setup. Now the whole group collects their bikes from the MotoAventuraChile BMW store (http://motoaventurachile.cl). The bikes range from 650cc single cylinders, through 800cc parallel twins, and 1200cc boxer twins. And not just any 1200cc, the latest liquid cooled version with trick suspension. And guess which I have? The latter! For once I have the best bike and I feel very indulgent in my guilty pleasure. It's no doubt a very capable bike, and I'm sure in the hands of bike journalists who don't care too much about damage they might cause to a bike they're testing, in my hands I feel very self conscious that this is one very expensive motorcycle. And I'm about to ride it on dirt and gravel tracks where even a minor spill could work out to be expensive. Extra care then. With ABS this and traction control that; soft, medium and hard suspension settings and different throttle responses for different conditions, this also has to be the safest motorbike of the bunch. That's a good thing then.

Dom and Sandra Duck

And this is the "Strategic Dismount" button, I've heard you might find it useful

Sonja makes us sign in blood - at least it feels that way!

Cory briefs us on the route and the trip

Once our lives have been signed away in blood, we're off for a shortish 50km test ride to a local beauty spot near Puerto Octay on the banks of Lago Llanquihue. (It may surprise you to know that there are more Welsh speakers in South America than in Wales as a sizable number emigrated a few hundred years ago to raise sheep and to farm a landscape in a climate similar to that back home in the valleys, even so, I don't think this is a Welsh "hkh"). From the banks of the lake there's a view across the lake to a dormant volcano, unfortunately today shrouded in cloud. As we approach our lunchtime venue on the end of a spit of land, we pass lakeside beaches crowded with sun worshippers enjoying the heat. The water looks inviting and there are a few people splashing around, but we resist the urge to strip and jump in as we did in Mongolia as the sight of 14 hairy bikers would probably scare the natives.

The short ride has revealed a few niggles with some of the bikes. Steve is experiencing a shimmy and for once it's not the way he walks. The wheels seem OK, the tyre pressures too, and the alignment of the forks is true. AJ takes it out for a spin, but gives it a clean bill of health. Anyway the forks are raised in the clamps to put more weight on the front wheel, but Steve's not convinced it has solved the problem.

We head back to the hotel and fill up before tucking up our steeds for the night in the garage under the hotel. Although the mornings have been cool, the temperatures are high twenties in the afternoons and we're all sweating profusely. Thus we retire to our rooms for showers etc, before dinner. Steve and I go for a run in the heat and manage a hour of pounding the pavements of Osorno, which included scaring the grannies walking over the wobbly pedestrian suspension bridge above the river.

Local motorbikes for sale in Osorno - bargains!

Longer day tomorrow as we head into Argentina. Cory wants to leave early as the border crossing delays are always an unknown. The final destination is Bariloche, a touristy town at the heart of the Lake District. It's the place where Top Gear started their ill-fated tour last year. Hopefully ours will end on a more positive note!

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Patagonia, Day 1 - Osorno.

Day 1 was a gentle introduction to Chile as we all assemble and meet up for Dinner. A few of us arrived a day early, 'Day Zero', so have an extra day to acclimatise after our 24hr journeys. Except for Brett who flew in from Singapore via Paris, Madrid and Santiago, who probably doesn't know what day it is as it took him two days to get here!

Most of us arriving early spent the morning looking around Osorno. To be honest there's not much to see, it's quite an agricultural town with few touristy recommendations.

Downtown Osorno

Cultural centre of Osorno

However it is a key regional city with an airport and is thus a convenient gateway to the area including the Lake District area north of Patagonia. That's one of the reasons it's also home to MotoChile a surprisingly large and well stocked BMW Motorrad dealership with almost a hundred bikes for hire and kit for sale. Gerard and I visit with Cory and AJ, our two 'local' tour guides. They've come down from Bolivia to run this tour just for us. Cory, we know well, having been our tour leader in Bolivia, but AJ is a new face. He'll be leading the tour on a motorbike so we'll get to know his back very well. Cory will sweep with the jeep, but knowing Cory he won't be able to resist some two wheeled action.

There are a range of bikes for hire, but due to an issue with the bike I was going to ride (now in a carpark just inside Bolivia) I booked late and have a choice of one. It's a 1200GS; not one I've ever ridden, but it's legendary, even if being much larger than the usual bikes we ride offroad. However it's a good choice for the next few weeks as this will be more of a tour with few offroad sections. Having said that, it's also said to be very capable offroad and earlier versions were taken around the globe by Charlie and Ewan (Google "Long Way Round"). It's also famous for the BMW "beak': a perfect perch for Sandra from which she can survey the road ahead and no doubt catch a few flies.

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Patagonia... My new travel companion

Normally, Ducky or one of his cousins joins me as a companion for my trips but this time, I just plain forgot to book a place for them. Fortunately, Steve King had brought his own bath time friend who decided that she didn't fancy that role and jumped ship. Say hello to Sandra Duck. Ducky will be kicking himself that he's not on this trip!

Sandra Duck

Patagonia, arrived in Osorno.

We've all managed to synchronise both the arrival of our luggage and ourselves to Osorno. On the flight we chatted to various other passengers wielding offroad style helmets. Seems like Osorno is a local bike tour capital. One group is basically doing our route as a round trip Osorno-Ushuaia and back, but in only three weeks; that's quite a distance. Another rider, solo this time, having previously ridden our route to Ushuaia, is now riding around the South American 'Lake District' centred around Bariloche in Argentina. We'll be there ourselves in a few days.

Steve's bag arrives, despite the best efforts of Air France

We arrive at our hotel and it's five star - nothing but the best for a dirty, dusty, greasy group of bikers. But this group has yet to be soiled and is perfectly acceptable in such gentile surroundings. Checked in, but the rooms are not ready, so we end up shooting the breeze in the bar while we wait.

Before showers or unpacking, Internet access is usually our number one priority

Of course another sign that we've arrived is that we've suddenly become silent as everyone is connected to wifi and eagerly checking emails, Facebook and my blog perhaps.... ;-)

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Patagonia, onward and downward

Packed flight to Madrid from Brussels and ended up sharing my seat with my hand luggage. Never nice, but bearable for 2hrs. The next leg to Santiago will be 13hrs so I made sure I boarded early to get some space in the overhead locker - finally got some value from that BA Silver card I got last year!

Biker Dom arrives at Brussels Airport

Met up with Duff, Christopher and his pillion Tpong. From what I hear, most of the crew are en route. All except Mark, who apparently is packing, repacking and charging batteries to make sure his cameras are powered when he breaks them. :-)

Not looking forward to 13hrs cramped in this seat, but at least it looks like there's a decent A/V system to play with until I get sleepy; that would be now then. When I wake, we will have crossed the equator into the Southern Hemisphere. I think that's when the engines start to spin in the other direction.

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Patagonia, Packed!

At last. Less clothing and bits 'n' pieces than usual as on previous trips I've usually packed too much. Although this time I have brought my own spoon and fork - you never know, Marko may have opened a chain of hotels in Chile! And now it's time for a late lunch.
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Patagonia. Still packing

Ok, I lied. I didn't go to pack my bag. Instead I went to bed. But I aim to be packed by lunch. Or at the very latest by my deadline to leave the house at 4pm. Now breakfast.
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Patagonia. To the End of the World - the trip starts now

At some point I'm going to have to start packing. I've checked in for the first leg of my flight to Madrid on Iberia, so I guess that means it's really happening.

My kit is at least laid out, I'm not quite that lastminute.dom, including the mandatory three pairs of underwear. As I calculated yesterday, I think that's at least two pairs short. We're told we can wash things during the trip - I do hope so or we'll be flying home without the use of aerodynamic lifting devices.

This time tomorrow I should be ready to get on the flight to Santiago, Chile. Only my second time south of the Equator, but now we'll head further south than ever, eventually reaching the End of the World in Ushuaia.

The wilds of Patagonia are said to be spectacular, so expect some nice pictures to be posted during the trip. Unlike last time, we should have wifi and GSM coverage during the evenings, so no slow satellite phone is required for this trip..... I hope! Perhaps I should have spoken to my good friends at Inmarsat or Globalstar and asked them to set me up with the gear. But it's all extra weight, and with at least five pairs of pants to carry I'm not sure I have room.

But packing must indeed start, so now away I must go.

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