All good things must come to an end.....Out of the 8,765.34 followers only one person was interested in the wrought iron question. Can you believe it! Only one person stepped up to the plate and asked the question! My hat is off to her, who shall remain anonymous, with her inquisitive mind. I mean, really people. Are you that focused on deciding between cereal and eggs for breakfast that you cannot ponder wrought iron. Wow! I am simply astounded.

I was going to pose the question of "Who were the Jesuits?", but that is a more complicated and involved answer and I can see it would be truly an exercise for naught so I will save it for myself.

Wrought Iron, my dear people came from Spain by the boat load. You see, the Spanish plunderers, Pizarro and Cortes, were sending back galleon after galleon to the Old World, laden with gold and silver riches from the New World. Bullion, melted down artifacts from the Inca and Aztec empires. Treasures melted into gold and silver bars...almost everything melted...the artistry destroyed for the Greed of Empire. Additionally, newly mined riches from the mines of Potosi and others were transformed into the same bars. The wrought iron was simply a logical choice to get the ships back to the New World.

Two things were happening. There was a building boom in the New World and the ships coming back from Spain carried much lighter cargo, but mostly the cargo was one-way...Americas to Spain. Ships need ballast to maintain stability on the high seas. The logical conclusion was to send Wrought Iron to the New World. It provided the necessary ballast and additionally it provided a much needed building material since iron foundaries were almost non-existent at this time.

Argentina has a "Zona de Missiones" which they tout as being an exceptional experience. They advertise it; they promote it. But, what they have to offer pales by comparison to what is so discretely advertised in Bolivia. The missiones here in Argentina are mere skeletons. The most complete one is simply a few building shells with a partial building for the Missione itself. None of the structures is complete and all of the structures are roofless.

Built on the same grand scale as in other areas they were something to behold in their time. Providing services to communities of up to 4,000 people they became the nucleus of the Jesuit teachings. The offerings here obviously have historical merit but they are simply a "Ruin" when compared to what Bolivia has to offer. Bolivia has the best and has done the best job of preserving and restoring this heritage.

The "Tire Gods" seem to be doing their best to get me. I returned from a trek around Foz Iguazu to find my new rear tire almost flat. I turned it around looking for a puncture...nothing. I rotated it again, looking more carefullly...nothing. Had someone pulled a cruel joke on me and deflated my tire?

I tried pumping it up with my compressor. It would not hold air. I checked it again. Nothing! I pumped some more. Air was escaping from the valve stem. Had the valve failed? I had left my tank bag, with my spare parts, in the motel so I could not check the valve itself. 12 psi was about all the tire would hold. I was 20 km from town. It would have to do.

I packed everything up and headed out. The bike squirmed with the low pressure, but was rideable. I made it to town...barely. The tire was hot. I pulled into a service station advertising "Aire" but all they had was the sign. A boy on a bicycle spotted my dilema and led me to a "Gomeria" a block away. It was there we discovered the true nature of the problem.

The valve stem had failed...the brass insert that holds the valve and is covered with the cap, had separated from the rubber external part that fits into the rim. GIVE ME A BREAK! When was the last time anyone has ever experience a valve stem failure. I know I haven´t in my lifetime...not on a motorcycle or a car. As we put air into the tire the insert had had enough and flew out. This guy only fixed tires with tubes and did not have a stem. I was not out of trouble yet.

We found the insert and wired it to the rubber carrier. With 25 psig of air and the boy on the bicycle leading we went off to find another Gomeria. Two blocks away we found one. He looked at the stem and said:
"No, I don´t have one like that."
"What do you mean. It is the same as a car."
"No," he shook his head.
I was astounded. "What is different?"
"Your´s is shorter."
I looked at them. His was barely 3/8" longer than the one in my rim. I didn´t care if it was 2" longer. "Put it in. It is not a concern."
Ten minutes later, I was good to go. I bought a spare to add to my list of parts. I paid the man and tipped the boy before heading out.

Later I reflected on the event. With every stroke of bad luck there is usually some good...sometimes alot of good. If the stem had separated from the carcass at the falls, I would not have been able to get to town. It had held 12 psig of air which seemed to be its equalization point, but was still enough to allow me to ride. If, I had had my spare parts with me I would have tampered with the stem and the valve and I would most likely have provoked the separation and failure. If it had separated on its own at highway speeds the sudden depressurization (it would only take a few seconds) could easily have resulted in loss of control and an accident, especially in the middle of a corner. If it had occurred further away from town with my fully loaded bike 12 psi would not have been enough to carry the weight. I had been 3 times lucky. Suddenly my 'bad luck' seemed more like a stroke of good luck in disguise.