Patagonia, Day 16 - Cerro Sombrero to Punta Arenas the end of the tour

The ferry to the mainland was a relative short ride from our hotel in Cerro Sombrero, which incidentally I rode around briefly last night to see what's there; basically nothing. Dwellings and satellite dishes, radio masts and administration offices, but no shops or things to do. There is a school, I suppose that's a start. It's a town to service the oil/gas industry, and that's it.

At the ferry 'terminal' we wait beside a long queue of trucks. The ferry only has space for four or maybe six trucks, plus the equivalent length of cars and bikes, so I wonder whether we'll get on this time. We do, which is fortunate, because the one ferry takes about an hour to do the round trip. This time we don't see dolphins, but instead penguins popping up to the surface briefly before disappearing beneath the waves. Everyone scans the sea to spot the next one. From the shore, dark shadows in the sea could be whales, but from a better vantage point on the ship, they're just big clumps of seaweed. The sky is blue, but there's a biting wind again; people around here must be hardy folk.

On terra firma we're straight onto tarmac and away. There follows another quick blast into Punta Arenas battling the cross winds. The relatively flat and featureless terrain, and without trees, means that the wind has nothing to stop it or reduce its force; the land is consequently windswept and bleak. The cross winds were tough to deal with, on the long straights they'd push you sideways so that you're constantly riding at an angle to perpendicular, but the gusts meant that you have to constantly correct and your neck muscles get a real work out. And when a big articulated lorry passes in the opposite direction you get first the blast of its own shockwave, then a very brief respite from the cross wind, before a double hit of its wake and the renewed cross wind. Unless you're expecting it, it's a real shock and almost knocks you off.

There's a different mood in the group today, sombre almost. Of course, we're all in wind-down mode, thinking about the end of the trip, the potential big bills at bike handover, and the work awaiting us back in the real world. And soon it is over: we stop for lunch, pizzas etc, and then head to the garage in the rain that stated during lunch (we've been in dry conditions for so long it feels strange). But before lunch, I savour a few last moments on the run into town on the liquid cooled 1200GS; the exhaust note has become addictive. Winding on the throttle in 2nd/3rd or 4th gear at lowish speed results in a gloriously deep burble, following through to a throaty rasp as the speed increases, and now I notice that the traction control light is flickering; and this is dry tarmac. This bike wants to fly! And it did briefly at moments during the trip, I'm sure it enjoyed it as much as me.

At lunch, AJ is already planning his next trip, Columbia he thinks, as it will help him improve his Spanish further and he hears it's a nice country. Cory mentions other ideas, Gerard and Hugo have Alaska to Ushuaia in mind - but that's a huge trip and not one done in a few weeks. Steve and a few others have their own plans in mind. As a group, some of us have already booked to ride to Everest basecamp in 2016; we're greatly anticipating a return to the mountains that brought us all together: the mighty Himalayas. New stills and action camera required for sure.

The garage assesses any damage our bikes have incurred during the trip and Mark, as expected, gets bill shock. USD 1300 for a new front wheel.

Just one of Mark's five dings in a wheel made of cheese

Ray and Brett also have damage, but an order of magnitude lower. And me, I have incurred a USD 60 bill thanks to Sandra, whose firm rear end has managed to wear a hole into the paint of the GS mudguard. All those hours in the duck gym have not been wasted then. Considering the terrain and what the bike had to suffer at my hands, 60 dollars is a small price to pay, and the rear tyre is definitely chewed to bits - the GS itself is a tough old bird, like Sandra Duck, perhaps even Biker Dom proof!

Biker Dom proof, but maybe not Sandra Duck proof

New tyre

Tyre after 4300km and a "thug's" abusive right wrist

Christopher and Tpong have printed for each of us, the group shot photo taken at the End of the World, and we all get to sign them with abusive comments during dinner. I'm sure we'll all have fun reading them soon and in years to come. Mine will be on the office wall when I get back, and I expect to have to explain to bemused continental Europeans what some of the abuse means!

My flight leaves at 3pm tomorrow and I hope to enjoy a lie in for the first time in almost three weeks.

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Sent from the dusty road using my rusty BlackBerry