Diary & Travel Reports from the saddle

Bolivian Dynamite - 4th September 2003

Bolivia has been quite explosive actually. I met a German-English couple on their motorbikes at Uyuni, next to the world’s biggest salt lake the Salar de Uyuni in the SW of the country. Arno is into dynamite. With a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face he produced two sticks with fuses and asked, “Shall we?” “Wow yes where?”, I answered excitedly already laughing. We decided on the train graveyard south of town, out in the desert. Dusk would be best, when tourists were safely back in town. Off we went with his girlfriend Sian and Yuki, a Japanese girl who is riding a 250cc around the world. We advised two locals, stripping metal for a car repair, to take cover. We planted the explosive, lit the metre long fuse, and legged it to join the girls behind a mud wall. With fingers in our ears and mouth open to absorb the pressure wave (Arno’s tips were learnt in the army he said, he knew all about making different sorts of bombs, more like a terrorist I thought), it went boooooom. We rushed out to inspect the damage amid the dust cloud, quite impressive on the 1cm thick steel, and ran off in a circular route back to town. The army barracks are the closest part of town to the train graveyard, and we laughed at the prospect a diplomatic incident involving Japanese, German and English launching an attack on a Bolivian outpost. But the explosion didn’t perk the interest of the army nor police. Anyway, it was an interesting pre-dinner diversion, and quite legal since anything goes in Bolivia.

The Bolivian train story is a bit sad. Invasions by Brasil, Argentina and Chile resulted in compensation from those countries by building railways for Bolivia. One was never finished and some lines have been closed for decades. Hence the train graveyard. Paraguay to the East and Peru to the West also took chunks of Bolivia. Bolivians lost about half of their country and their Pacific Ocean access. Bolivians are a very gentle people (it might be the coca!) and the land is hard to protect being so remote and mountainous. Bolivia was also responsible for the capture and death of some romantic guerrillas and criminals like Che Gueverra and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The latter were killed after creating havoc throughout the Americas a little south of here where I’ll visit on my way to Argentina in a few days.

Bolivia, straddling the Andes, is a land of gaunt mountains, cold desolate plateaux and semi tropical lowlands. For the last week or so I have been on the bleak, treeless, windswept Altiplano, most of it 4000m above sea level, with peaks jutting upward to 6500m. It a bit strange up here, and for me that makes it nice. There are salt and fresh water lakes, deserts, lots of llamas and snow capped mountains. Most of the population lives on the Altiplano in cities but there are efforts to encourage people to move to the lowland jungle areas where the soil is more fertile and where there is plenty of water.

It is a weird experience to ride on a salt lake. The surface is more grippy than tarmac. You can close your eyes, open the throttle, and turn whatever way you want with no fear! (OK I know some of you think that I do this on a regular basis anyway.) Nearly all of Bolivia’s roads are dirt tracks. My bike has been working very hard, and so have a few welding shops ha ha!

I rode the world’s most dangerous road , climbing the Andes from the jungle region north of the city of La Paz (meaning ‘Peace’). This muddy track is cut into the sheer cliff face and is usually wide enough for just one four wheeler. It is usually foggy. Last week a bus toppled over the edge and fell a km or so, and a bicycle tourist was getting out of the way for a bus when she fell down. Trucks go off all the time. I was taking extra care, one wrong move and it could have been The End. Two girls sitting next to me in this internet cafe were to scared to go on it.

La Paz is surrounded by jagged cliffs and towering snow capped mountains. The south of the city is 500m lower than the north. I won’t forget the dried llama fetuses stacked up on market stalls that you can buy for use in religious festivals as offerings. There are small several inch ones, and bigger metre long ones with fur. One stall holder told me they bring luck!

I left you last time in Cusco, Peru. My visit to Macchu Pichu, the Inca stronghold high in the Andes, was magic. For photographs see http://www.ifip.com/Machupijchu1.htm

In fact there are lots of new photos on my website going on all the time. Check them out! Thanks Kodak for the camera and thanks Mike Forrester for doing all of that web page stuff. Mike is the biggest unsung hero of the Millennium Ride.

Then I rode East to the frontier town of Puerto Maldonaldo near Bolivia. The ride down the Eastern Andes to the jungle was breathtaking, both the scenery and the effort needed to get through, over or round certain obstacles! At one point some workers offered the skip of their tractor to help me across a series of rivers. I stood on the skip with my bike like the captain of a ship. This stretch of track was accompanied by the customary shock absorber breakage, welded in Puerto. I could hardly believe my eyes on seeing the sheer number of motorcycles here in the jungle region. The car-motorcycle proportions were inverse to most places in this world. I was reminded of Cambodia, and the destruction wreaked by cars in terms of congestion, pollution and car parks. When you see the effect of adding just one car to a street full of moving motorcycles, you would understand.

A conditional single occupant permit (for disabled people for example) could be issued to car owners if they want to drive their car without passengers. That would stop so much wastage in our cities don’t you think?

I rode 200km in Western Brazil, on tarmac no less, to get into northern Bolivia. Brazil speaks Portuguese, and I didn’t feel good about not being able to communicate. Even in this far flung corner of Brazil, I could see that the country is much richer than all its neighbours.

I also saw that the destruction of the Amazon jungle is fact. The lungs of the earth are truly being turned into cattle grazing grounds. I saw blackened tree stumps among the cows. I was very saddened and quite alarmed. We all should be. In the year 2000 an area the size of Belgium was destroyed. Brazil recently put in place a strategy to protect it, and the main problem appears to be with small time loggers these days. Here is the position of the local indigenous tribes http://www.hartford-hwp.com/archives/41/186.html, and this is a Reuters wire http://www.macon.com/mld/macon/3447808.htm.

Thereafter for several days the dusty track clogged up my air filter as I rode through the remote coca producing and smuggling region of Bolivia. Helicopters buzzed overhead and I wondered who benefits from this operation, which has little or no effect on the coca trade. I was invited out for a spot of night game fishing on the river Madre de Dios when we were stopped by drug enforcement officials in motorized canoes. Our catch amount to a four inch winnow.

More welding to three or four other points on my bike were needed, including some aluminium work in La Paz, and today I had my right shock absorber welded again. I am getting bored of telling you about my shocks. I could always simply strut the back end again. But hardtailing is not really a solution.

The Health Ministry in La Paz gave me a letter indicating their interest in working with us on maintenance for their fleets of motorcycles, probably over 700 machines. They are used extensively in providing health services to remote communities, in particular against a disease called chagas which kills you within 15 years of being bitten by a certain mosquito. I think I’ll stay on the altiplano for the time being, its too high for mozzies here.

There are lots of Jawa motorcycles in Bolivia. I saw one today being serviced at this town’s only motorcycle shop, it was 46 years old and used on a daily basis! I wish the development community would take maintenance seriously too. I was there to try and find a new rear tyre. The only option was a Kenda. No thanks, I’d rather take the present Maxxis down to canvas. There’s only about 300-400km left of dirt before I hit the tarmac of Argentina, so they say. Let’s see.

Anyway, I have to say that Bolivia is one of my favourite countries and not only because of the dollar dynamite sticks. It seems that a lot of other adventure motorcyclists agree, since there are plenty of us!

All the best,
Simon

A solo fundraising round the world ride on a handmade motorcycle.
Supporting Doctors Without Borders and Health For All.

[Home] [Start] [Diary] [Events] [Motorcycle Groups] [The Bike] [The Rider] [The Route] [Press Reports] [Contact]