USA, Mexico and beyond...

We completely missed our turn off and had to double back about 20 miles to find the entrance to the Finca , where we slipped and slided along a muddy track until we reached Ricardo’s brother’s Hostel.
We spent a relaxing evening in the hostel, perched up in the mountain, surrounded by jungle, overlooking the beach below, and then decided one more night wouldn’t hurt!

Our mates in Cali were all heading down to Ambato for a big bike meeting, as was our pal Ricardo from Quito, so we had decided to ride back up to meet them all before heading out of Ecuador.Our mates in Cali were all heading down to Ambato for a big bike meeting, as was our pal Ricardo from Quito, so we had decided to ride back up to meet them all before heading out of Ecuador. We rode back the way we came, and into Ambato, a fairly ugly modern town, and to the hotel where the vent was based, and then we got out first shock.

Our mates in Cali were all heading down to Ambato for a big bike meeting, as was our pal Ricardo from Quito, so we had decided to ride back up to meet them all before heading out of Ecuador.Our mates in Cali were all heading down to Ambato for a big bike meeting, as was our pal Ricardo from Quito, so we had decided to ride back up to meet them all before heading out of Ecuador. We rode back the way we came, and into Ambato, a fairly ugly modern town, and to the hotel where the vent was based, and then we got out first shock.

We stopped on route to allow a heard of sheep to cross the road, and stopped and talked to the young woman and her kids who were herding the animals, before riding the last few kilometers to the town. We stopped on route to allow a heard of sheep to cross the road, and stopped and talked to the young woman and her kids who were herding the animals, before riding the last few kilometers to the town. She was only just in her twenties, but her weathered face belied her age. Her oldest daughter was 9 years old and her son was three, both of the children were out helping her with the animals.

The second day of the coastal road through Peru was the same as the first. We rode on, more of the brown stuff to our left, and the blue stuff to our right. The road occasionally left the coast and we wound up into the mountains, where we totally surrounded by sand, rocky mountains, and more sand. It felt as if we were totally isolated from the rest of civilization

We arrived in Mancora nice and early, found a lovely room in a hostel on the beach, unpacked, and spent a lovely afternoon chilling on the beach, drinking beer and making friends with other travelers, as well as bumping into some old faces from up the road, a couple of guys I had met back in Colombia.We arrived in Mancora nice and early, found a lovely room in a hostel on the beach, unpacked, and spent a lovely afternoon chilling on the beach, drinking beer and making friends with other travelers, as well as bumping into some old faces from up the road, a couple of guys I had met back in Co

Our crossing into Peru was quick and easy, and the change on the other side was immediate.
Hundreds of moto taxis wobbled along the roads, and the more luxurious form of taxi were 1970s American Doge cars, in varying degrees of disrepair.PERU

As we left Nasca behind, we also left the sunshine. Approaching the coast, we rode into a grey fog, which I was hoping might just be some early morning sea mist, but the weather worsened as the day went on, and at around lunchtime, the deluge beganAs we left Nasca behind, we also left the sunshine. Approaching the coast, we rode into a grey fog, which I was hoping might just be some early morning sea mist, but the weather worsened as the day went on, and at around lunchtime, the deluge began.

Garth and I thundered back out through the sacred valley, and didn’t stop until I came across a procession in a town along the way, about 5 hours down the road. It was another festival, and as I rode on towards Puno I came across more and more of them. I was just on the outskirts of Puno when a cop stopped me for another procession to cross the road in front of me. I pulled over, parked the bike, and went for a closer look.I felt much better the next day, so I packed up and headed out of the city, aiming for Bolivia.

As we entered the site, the mist clung to the mountains and obscured most of the city, revealing only small patches at a time, we climbed to the guard’s house, and sat on the grass, catching what glimpses we could as the clouds rolled over the site.MACHU PICCHU

Cusco was a bustling city, where tourists rummaged for bargains and touts plied their wares, mainly massages and trips to Macho Picchu. Traditionally dressed women walked around with Lamas, while their daughters carried lambs, ready for a tourist to point their camera at them so they could then demand $1.Another day, another dollar, and we were off once more, more riding through the sacred valley, past more Inca sites, and to the former Inca capital, Cusco.

After another 2 hours of riding through the rain, I eventually arrived at the top of a mountain and through the clouds, I was afforded a view of La Paz, the highest capital city in the world, laid out beneath me like a collection of Lego buildings. LA PAZ
After another 2 hours of riding through the rain, I eventually arrived at the top of a mountain and through the clouds, I was afforded a view of La Paz, the highest capital city in the world, laid out beneath me like a collection of Lego buildings.

I ascended above the clouds, upwards and onwards to the altiplano, at altitudes of over 5,000m. Here the sky was spectacular, the colour of the sky, the shape of the clouds, everything looked as if it was being viewed from some kind of high definition, polychromatic lens. It was unnaturally beautiful.I left early in the morning and rode up the hill out of the city, and then continued to climb. I ascended above the clouds, upwards and onwards to the altiplano, at altitudes averaging 3,200metre, but reaching over 5,000m in places.

The ride continued to awe me, the road twisting and turning through winding canyon roads, still under a beautiful blue sky, until I turned a corner and was presented with a vista of the high rises running along the beach at Arica.
The ride continued to awe me, the road twisting and turning through winding canyon roads, still under a beautiful blue sky, still under a beautiful crystal blue sky, so high I could almost each out and touch the wispy clouds above.

I followed the coast, back on the Pan American Highway, known here in Chile as highway 1, and the blacktop sliced a path through the desert. As the sun rose in the sky, I rode down the Pan American, desert to my right, and the ocean, under a blanket of gentle mist, sat to my right. I followed the blissfully smooth blacktop along, past outcrops of rock, jutting into the ocean, and forever southwards.

Riding into Pucon was a surprise to say the least. After hours of riding through valleys and alongside lakes, we turned a corner, and found ourselves in the middle of Villarica Swiss Alpine town.We based ourselves there for a couple of days before riding out to Valparaiso, a coastal town known for its corrugated buildings and Bohemian vibe. From there, we followed the coast road as much as we could southwards before heading back inland to the Chilean Lake district and Pucon.

We enjoyed yet another spectacular ride on the Routa 40, Che’s highway, through the Argentine Lake district to El Bolson, and after one wrong turn, we found the hostel that we had booked from Bariloche.Both of us had really been looking forward to Argentina, and the promise of amazing steaks, delicious wine, and friendly folk, and now we were here. It wasn’t the first time in Argentina, but this time we were here to stay, at least for a while.

The Glacier, one of the only advancing glaciers in the world, was extremely impressive, and made the three days of hell we had endured to get here so worthwhile. The boat chugged up and down in front of the glacier, and we were lucky enough to see a house-sized block of ice fall from it into the lake

We were dreading entering the city. The GPS wasn’t working anymore, so we couldn’t rely on that, and the map we had as a back up had next to no detail of the city centre. Fortunately, the Gods were smiling on us that day, and we didn’t miss a beat. We rode straight into the city centre, into the oldest part of the city, San Telmo, and directly to our hostel. We were dreading entering the city. The GPS wasn’t working anymore, so we couldn’t rely on that, and the map we had as a back up had next to no detail of the city centre.

We left early in the morning, a touch over 3,000 kms to cover before we got to Buenos Aires. We rode out of Ushuaia under a grey sky. I was happy to leave the place behind. I had found it expensive, ugly and miserable. We had gone there for one purpose only, to touch a point on a map, and to be honest, I was wishing we had skipped it.We had done what we wanted to do in Ushuaia, we bought stickers for our bikes and postcards for our friends (which finally arrived in the UK four months later), and decided to head out the next day.