2 days to Salta. Argentina. Now time to rest.

Sunday 12^th October 2014. Stage 56. Bushcamp Quebrada de Humahuaca to Yala. 152 kms, 100% paved, climbing 482 metres, summit 3580.

Sleeping in a bush camp with dogs, a rooster, goats and vehicles passing at all ungodly hours of the night, is not and an ideal recipe for a good night's sleep. Breakfast was at 8am and departure 9 am. Some people had their usual whine about why we were starting so late when we had 152 kms to go. I personally loved the idea of getting more sleep and not having to do anything until 8 am. 

We jumped on the bikes and off we we went for a ride that would take us from 3580 metres down to 1580 metres. I rode with Dave and we had a great chat all morning about the music industry and the people he has worked with. 

Although we rode downhill, we still had to contend with a strong headwind. At the lunch stop Dave stopped and I continued on. I got into a group of about 6 riders and we pushed onto a headwind that was now making it hard to go any faster than 18 kph. We took the usual stop around the 130 km mark for a cool drink and some ice cream, remounted, and climbed the final hill of the day. Once at the top of the climb it was a fast descent to our campsite some 20 kms away. Our group stayed together all afternoon and was good to ride with different people today. 

Our campsite for the evening was pretty good and for once there was Wifi. Because of the lack of Wifi recently I've not been able to post the daily stories. I know this is going to get worse as we get further south in Argentina.

Our night was the usual dinner, very nice, and an early night. Tomorrow is the day we ride into Salta and the 2 days that await us.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Monday 13^th October 2014. Stage 57. Yala to Salta, 100% paved, climbing 1282 metres, summit 1710.

Today's the day we ride to the city of Salta, a distance of 151 kms. Although we still have some big climbs to overcome, at least we have a beautiful day to start on . The sun is out, the birds are chirping for the first time and more importantly about 8 people were leaving the tour. Today I'm riding with Patrick de Vries who will be leaving us in 2 days time. Patrick is the young guy we worked for for the victory the other day. Now for today.

We rolled out as a group and stayed that way till the lunch stop at around 55 kms. The scenery of the surrounding landscape is similar to what you would see in northern Queensland or around the northern New South Wales region. Gentle slopes, full of green trees, cows wondering along the roadside and modern cars. Back in Bolivia the cars were old and well pass their use by date, here they are modern Mercedes, Ford and Chevrolet.

For the first part of the morning I sat on the front with the giant of the tour, Joost. We took our time and set a good pace ensuring the people we started with were the people we arrived at lunch with. We climbed about 600 metres to lunch and it was so easy, no headwind, a good road, and the cars showed a degree of respect of to us. That's something I don't get much of back home in the might GONG.

 The photo above is of the guy who did the sound work on the biggest hit of Bon Jovi's career, 'It's my life', and what a top guy to ride with. I rode the morning with Dave and then he decided to take the truck to end the day.

 That's me posing for the significant landmark on the tour.

 The above photo was taken on the washboard roads leading to the town of Atocha.

 The photo above is of myself and Patrick De Vries. Patrick will be leaving the tour in Salta. I must say he has been one of the best guys to ride with on tour. I will surely miss his smile and humor on the way to Ushuaia.

 I took the above photo of Buck and Marius with one of the young ladies who were attending a conference on domestic violence. Each young lady had their mother with them. It was my first experience in watching how to dance Latino style.

More photos of Buck and Marius with some of the young ladies who insisted in having their photos taken. They were very impressed with the notion that we were riding bikes to the end of the world.

You should take note that that's me on the front of the peleton. This is a procedure I will not be duplicating in the future.

Once our lunch was done, it was back on the bike and the 15 km climb up to the highest point of the day. I sat on the front again with Joost and had Michelle on my wheel all the way. The good thing about the mirror I wear on my glasses is that I can see exactly how far the rider is behind me. Michelle is from Brisbane.

We crested the summit with 30 kms to go and it was once again roaring down into the valley below. After a quick coke stop, we got back onto the bikes and finished the job. Michelle led us right through the city with her Garmin (I'm hopeless with mine) and got us straight to the campsite. 

I quickly put up my tent and got ready for the big celebrations as about 8 people will be leaving the tour and we've got one new lady to join us.

To cut the story about the night of festivities, I can say some interesting stuff went on. Sometimes people drink too much. I'll leave it at that. The party went on till the late hours of the morning and I had a really good time. I did meet a group of ladies who were attending a conference on Domestic Violence which was a big part of my life as a Prosecutor, so I was interested to hear their views on the subject.

The ladies explained to me that the men in Argentina have a problem with alcohol and violence and this is the reason they have brought their daughters along so they can learn about the serious issues and how to deal with it when it arises in a relationship. One of the funny things they noticed about us supreme elderly athletes is that we have no stomachs (because of all the riding) whereas their men have beer bellies. 

Another one of my good friends leaving the tour, Hartmud. I'll post the rest of the departing crew tomorrow.

Tomorrow is a chill out day, see the city of Salta, eat some good food and go shopping. I'll provide an update on tomorrow on my 2 rest days in Salta. Time to go out for dinner with the group. I should mention that I went for coffee with Patrick who is leaving tomorrow. I felt so sad to say farewell as I developed an amazing friendship with him. As they say in Australia, he is a top bloke.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Ailing boy uses wish to visit pope. The day I met Christopher Sarage.

In my life I met some famous people, inspirational people, people who would move heaven and earth to help another. Whilst in the town of Uyuni last week, I got to meet one young man who will have the mightiest of fights in his life, a fight that started over 2 years ago. I felt honoured to meet him and his parents. I know the struggle the family will face, but I have no doubt they are prepared for the fight of Christopher's life. This is his story.

Two years ago, Christopher Diego Sarage was a “normal” 9-year-old boy playing soccer, chatting up a storm with his family and having lots of fun with his friends.

Today Chrisito, as his family calls him “ito”, is a Spanish diminutive indicating affection lies on the couch of a Thayer Road relative, who his family is visiting with, barely able to move and unable to speak. But he now carries with him a memory of a personal audience with Pope Francis.

Chrisito communicates with his large, brown, piercing eyes and his bright, broad smile. Except for the obvious, you might never guess what he and his family have been through over the past two years.

“One day we were on vacation at a water park in Bolivia, South America when he told us he couldn’t see,” said his father Christopher Sarage, who grew up in Greenfield. “He’d been running around all day and it was about 100 degrees, so we thought the heat had gotten to him.”

Sarage, his wife Sussy, whom he met while the two were studying at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst in 1992,

The Sarage's were in Rome late last month to visit the Vatican and Pope Francis thanks to Make-A-Wish Massachusetts and Rhode Island, which grants wishes to children with life-threatening conditions. Sarage said his son had the time of his life. “They offered him everything from Hawaii to Disney,” said his mother. “He has such deep faith that he wanted to visit the Pope.”

Christopher meeting the Pope.

Chrisito, who was playing soccer just a day before tragedy struck, brought a soccer ball to Vatican City and gave it to the Pope. “The Pope’s favourite team is from Argentina, where he’s from,” said Sarage. “Chrisito’s favourite team is from La Paz, Bolivia, where he was born.” Sussy Sarage said in return Pope Francis spoke with Chrisito and the family, blessed their ailing son and gave all of them a little of their faith and hope back.

“Chrisito already had so much faith and hope,” said Sarage. “He keeps the rest of us going.”

Chrisito and his family learned shortly after that fateful day when he abruptly lost his sight in 2012 that he has Adrenoleukodystrophy, also known as ALD. The disorder, which is caused by a mutated gene, severely affects the central nervous system. Two-thirds of those with ALD are presented with the disease in childhood and that version is the most severe form, leading to rapid degeneration and a vegetative state. The Sarage's said the disease moves quickly in some and slower in others. So far it appears it is moving more slowly for Chrisito.

Sarage said that day at the water park Chrisito told his parents and brother, “I’m scared. I can’t see.” “We all freaked out,” said Sarage. “We rushed him to a clinic, which is what we call a hospital in the states, and they kept him overnight and did some tests.”

Sarage said Chrisito’s vision returned the next day and everyone was perplexed. The youngster spent four days in the hospital and had a seizure during that time, but still confused about what might be going on with him, Chrisito was released when he seemed to be getting better. It was just as he and his family got ready to board a plane to their home in Bolivia that Chrisito had another seizure and his parents knew there was something terribly wrong. “He spent another week in a Bolivian hospital far from home,” said Sarage. “It was crazy, a nightmare. We don’t have insurance there like we do in the states, so we had to pay for everything as we went; tests, medications, everything.”

The hospital did many tests, many painful, said Sarage. It was after results from an MRI came back that doctors found there were lesions on Chrisito’s brain. “One doctor was looking at the pictures with us and said, ‘Oh no, it looks like ALD,’” said Sarage. “We wanted to know what that meant. They didn’t really explain, but they sounded very discouraged.”

The Sarage's said they became the world’s best Googlers, and when doctors finally told them the only thing that might help their son was a bone marrow transplant, they decided to travel back to the states for it. “We found one of the world’s leading experts on ALD was in Boston, so we came to Greenfield, left Alejandro with my mum so he could go to Greenfield High School for the year and we left for Boston,” said Sarage. “We lived in the hospital and a rehabilitation centre for more than a year with Chrisito.”

The family arrived in Greenfield on Sarage’s mother’s birthday, Feb. 11, 2013. That Valentine’s Day they hadn’t gotten an official diagnosis yet — they got a phone call with the bad news. “Even at that point Chrisito was walking and talking and had made birthday breakfast for my mother a few days before,” said Sarage. “This was just unbelievable.” The Sarage's took their son to Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston where Dr. Florian Eichler met them to discuss the road ahead. First, they had to find a bone marrow match for their youngest son. “It wasn’t long before we learned that his brother was a perfect match,” said Sarage. “We were elated, but soon that turned to more bad news.” The couple learned that Alejandro carries the same mutated gene, it just hasn’t attacked his body the way it has Chrisito’s. “We were devastated,” said Sussy Sarage. “We were heartbroken.” Still, it was Chrisito who kept the faith and told his parents everything was “going to be OK.”

When a match was finally found, it wasn’t perfect but was close enough, said Sarage. After the transplant, which was a success, Chrisito had to endure chemotherapy. “The first 10 days of chemo he was walking and talking and acting like himself,” said his mother. “Then, something happened. He got really sick and all of a sudden his speech was slurred and we couldn’t understand him.” Neurologists were called in, and doctors said they were going to call Make-A-Wish Massachusetts and Rhode Island. “We didn’t know what that meant, but we didn’t think it sounded good,” said Sarage.

During his first encounter with Make-A-Wish, Chrisito asked that his grandparents be flown to the states from South America for a visit, but that didn’t work out. By the time Make-A-Wish visited for the second time, Chrisito had lost his ability to speak and asked for a computer that would allow him to communicate, but the family soon learned that insurance they had purchased when they returned to the states would pay for such a computer. Finally, it was on the third trip to see Chrisito that Make-A-Wish learned the young boy, who has always had a deep faith in God, wanted to visit Pope Francis, said Sarage.

2 years ago, the family returned from the Vatican, where they had attended a mass for thousands of people suffering with different ailments. “It was difficult to see 1,000 children in wheelchairs,” said Sarage. “But it makes you realise you aren’t going through this alone.”

“Chrisito has had such a spirit through all of this,” said his grandmother, who waited back in Greenfield last week for their return. “Chrisito has an amazing spirit.” Sarage said during the bleakest moments over the past two years his son has shown the most amount of faith of anyone and has pulled the rest of the family through, even though he cannot walk, talk, dress himself or speak.

“He gets very determined though,” said his mother. “He’ll be upset with me and I can’t figure out why. Then, all of a sudden I’ll realise that he is upset because I picked him up to carry him somewhere and he wanted to try to do it himself.”

Chrisito may never talk or walk again, but he is determined to give it everything he’s got, they said. “Before this happened, he was always the one to walk by a church and cross himself,” said Sarage. “He was the one who reminded us to say grace before a meal. So it didn’t surprise us when he said he wanted to meet the Pope.”

Catholics, the Sarage's said they are and always have been church-goers, but it is Chrisito who has always reminded them to not just talk the talk.

“The trip was incredible,” said Sussy Sarage. “It felt like a dream,” said Chrisito’s father. “It was fantastic.” They said Pope Francis met with them and their son after the mass. “He kissed Chrisito, blessed him and we just talked about different things,” said Sarage. “I could see how happy it made my son. He’ll never forget. We’ll never forget.”

Make-A-Wish Massachusetts and Rhode Island volunteers picked the family up and dropped them off at the airport, transported them to wherever they wanted to go throughout the week and made sure their week was the best it could possibly be. “It was,” said the Sarage's early Thursday morning as Chrisito lay on the couch listening and confirming with a glee-filled look.

The couple said now , they’re not sure what the future holds for their son. “The disease seems to be progressing slowly at this point, so that’s good news,” said Sarage. “We’ve actually seen tiny improvements.” Chrisito’s mother said she has seen some movement in one of his fingers.

“That’s going in the right direction,” she said. “It’s amazing how something that small can make our day.”

The Sarage's said they would like to move back to Greenfield permanently one day.They said they’ll go back to Bolivia and try to work out all of the details of a move back to the states. They’d like to be close to Boston, just in case Chrisito needs more specialised care.

Along with the soccer ball, Chrisito and his family delivered a message to Pope Francis. “We told him that Bolivia is praying for him,” said Sarage. “He answered, ‘I need it!’ and kissed Chrisito on the forehead.”

Linda Sarage said her grandson’s journey is one of faith and hope. “I agree,” said his father. “When the world seems rough and tough and things are bad, there’s an 11-year-old boy who can inspire people with his faith. He never gives up and he reminds all of us that we’re never alone.”

If you would like to send well wishes or donations toward his care, send them to: Chrisito Sarage, care of Linda Sarage, 1 Keegan Lane, Greenfield, MA 01301. She will then forward them to Bolivia.

Meeting Chrisito will always be one of greatest highlights of my trip throughout South America. You can also email me at tbwall@hotmail.com is you wish to make a donation. I can guarantee it will reach the family.

I also handed Christopher an Australian jersey as a keep safe of our meeting.

Friday 10^th October 2014. Stage 54b, Tupiza to La Quiaca, 93 kms, paved 100%, climbing 1298 metres, summit 3540 metres.

We woke today to a very warm morning with not a cloud in the sky. I was really looking forward to taking it easy on the bike and enjoying my last day in Bolivia. Today we cross over the border into Argentina, the land of Lionel Messi and the infamous Diego Maradona. The reason I was going to take it easy was because I was very sore from my mammoth 5 hour walk into the wilderness yesterday. Because my legs and cheek muscles ached so much, I knew I was going to suffer big time today, and we had to climb back to the Altiplano. If you're ever invited to go for a walk with Elizabeth, don't do it, especially if you intend to ride 95 kms the next day. Putting aside the pain, we did get to see some amazing landscape and met up with Roberto and Maria along the way.

The tour rolled out of Tupiza around 8.30 am and I rode with Barry, Jurg and Rien. We stopped a couple of times for photos but took it easy. I took an extra stop and the boys rode off which is normal on these types of tours. You ride with some for an hour and then you ride with others for another hour. It's a great opportunity to meet everyone on tour. The major climb of the day started around 20 kms and went up for 15 kms. It wasn't steep but I didn't have anything in the legs. People passed me and I didn't care, it was 45 kms to lunch and that was my target for the morning. The landscape was not starting to change, from flat desolate landscape to greener fields, greener mountains, and more importantly a nice tailwind.

I arrived at the lunch stop on my own and there was already a couple of cyclists sitting down tucking into some good home made bread rolls. I'll have to remember to bring my cap with me and put it in during lunch because we are going into hotter temperatures over the next couple of weeks.

After lunch I rode with Alec and Julia. Alec had a spectacular crash on the Stelvio, 2 years ago, one of the famous mountains in Italy and also used each year during the 'Giro d Italia'. The crash was so bad he had to be airlifted off the mountain and spent the next week in a coma. I'm amazed the guy is still riding.

As the 3 of us headed off to the Argentinian border, Alec was powering along and my legs were feeling it. Julia dropped off after a couple of kms and we kept going. On each rise Alex would get out of the seat and push as hard as he could all the way to the top of the rise. Although I managed to stay with him I never let on I was stuffed and needed an oxy reviver kit just to breath. Oh well, we pushed on at about 40 kph till we reached the border where we found a couple of cyclists spending the last of their Bolivianos. I ended up exchanging my money with the exchangers for Pesos. I got a rate of $1 US = 12.5 pesos. The Government rate is $1 US = 8 pesos.

After getting our money exchanged we then had to go through one of the slowest border crossings in history. All the cyclists got in line with the locals to first go through the Bolivian immigration control. Robert the boss was ahead of us in the queue and he had moved about 10 metres in 1 hour. I can't believe that at a major border crossing in South America they only have one immigration officer doing all the work. As more of the cyclists turned up many of them jumped the queue and got with us which saved a huge amount of time.

Once the exit stamp was in the passport we then moved a metre to the next window. This was the Argentinian border control post. I've been through border controls in Africa which are sometimes kms apart, this one is 1 metre. Another stamp was obtained and we were in Argentina. There was a sign once we entered Argentina which read, 'Ushuaia 5121 kms. That's all I have to ride to reach the end of the world.

It was a short ride to the hotel and a nice hot shower. Once again the Wifi doesn't work in the place and that's the reason why no updates.

Later in the day myself and Robert the boss went back over the border and into Bolivia to exchange more money. We knew that with a large sum of money we would get a better rate. Without disclosing how much we exchanged, we got $1 = 13.85 pesos. That was worth the trip. Once we had our pockets stuffed with money we had a look around the markets and headed back to the Bolivian border control. Thankfully no one was waiting and we got through and into Argentina in no time.

We went back to the hotel and had a great meal of chicken, rice and chips. The bill came to about 70 pesos, which in Australian terms was about $6 AUS. We sat around with all the other cyclists chatting about everything and anyone we wanted to have a crack at. It's just the Aussie way of life, taking the p....ss out of people.

All in all it was another fantastic day on the road.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Saturday 11^th October 2014. Stage 55, La Quiaca to bush camp Quebrada de Humahuaca. 119 kms, paved 100%, climbing 580 metres, summit 3780 metres. Brilliant team work lands Patrick De Vries 1^st win of the tour.

I slept like a bear last night. Breakfast was set for 8 am today and Barry and I woke up at 7.40 am. Now that's the way it should always be. With a quick pack I was ready for brekkie and sitting down to cereal, juice, a pastry and coffee. Not a real good meal when one is going to ride 119 kms at over 3500 metres.

In any event, we packed the fire engine and headed out of town at 9.15 am. There was huge bunch of riders at the start which is a pretty cool sight to see rolling along the flat roads of Argentina. As I was riding along Joost came up to me and said he wanted Patrick to win the stage. As an old professional cyclist I knew how to do the job and try and help out. I spoke to Rien and Patrick and decided that us 4 would work together and get Patrick the victory before he leaves the tour in 2 days time.

At the end of the ride I spoke to James and Elizabeth who were riding together and both wandering why the group was rolling along without any aggression for the first 20 kms. Both of them thought something was going on. How correct they were. Patrick attacked from the back of the bunch and Joost quickly followed. I sat back as it was my role to keep both James and Alfred in check and follow their moves.

James then jumped out of the bunch and I quickly got on his wheel. He chased really hard and there was no way I was going to come around him and give him a hand in the chase. Alfred the other danger man chased us down and Rien followed him. For the next 5 kms James and Alfred chased as hard as they could to pull Patrick and Joost back into the peleton. Eventually we all regrouped and then there was Patrick, Joost, Rien, myself (the people all working for Patrick) Alfred, Hartmud who was working for Alfred, and James.

With Patrick being protected from the wind and not having to work in the bunch, I decided to do what all cyclists hate and that was when James did a turn and to the back of the bunch I rode really slow as Joost, Rien and Patrick accelerated. This caused myself, James and Alfred to go backwards and be dropped. With James tiring, Alfred took off with me right on his wheel in the chase for the boys ahead. I told Alfred I couldn't help him and that if he wanted to catch them he would have to do it on his own. James was now disappearing behind us.

After about 20 kms of chasing James came back to Alfred and myself and they both worked hard to peg them back all to no avail. With the fire engine in the distance I knew that we had done our job and Patrick won the stage. It was fantastic to see him with that huge smile on his face. He was grateful for all the work we did for him today but still he had to stick with Joost and Rien who are the 2 strongest guys of the tour.

With a good lunch we had a nice afternoon ride to our bush camp. We did stop at a small town for a drink and some chips and continued our chat on our marvellous achievement on winning the stage. I know it's not a professional race but we rode the same tactics as I did years ago. 3 guys working for 1 rider, against 2 other riders should always come out on top.

The last 15 kms was all downhill to a nice bush camp nestled on a ridge looking down onto the world famous Rio Grande. I made my way down to the river and took a nice swim to wash off the layers of sunscreen and a little bit of dirt. That was my wash for the day.

We had a really nice meal for dinner and sat around chatting till it got too cold and windy. It was time to hit 'Tent Hilton' do some typing and get ready for 150 kms of more pain tomorrow.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Uyuni to Tupiza. 2 days of tough riding.

Tuesday 7^th October 2014. Stage 52, Uyuni to Atocha. 110 kms. 855 metres of climbing, summit 3982 metres, 100% unpaved. Buck crashes in tour.

During my time at Uyuni I met a very special young boy and his family, his name is Christopher. I'll devote a full story to Christopher in the coming days.

Today we hit the road for a 2 day stretch to Tupiza. Today is all dirt, sand, corrugations, deep sand, walking and crashes. As we rolled out of town the first crash of the day happened. Buck was attempting to change from the road to the path running alongside and came off on his shoulder. He was in a lot of pain and it was obvious he needed the Dr. Barry rode back into town and found the Dr at the markets doing some shopping. Barry came rode back the 3 kms to the crash site and still the Dr hadn't arrived. I don't understand how this could have happened. I am of the opinion that the Dr should have dropped everything and got a taxi for peanuts and came straight out to see how Buck was travelling. Eventually the fire engine turned up and the Dr started to assess Buck.

Without going into too much detail, there was no way on earth Buck could get up into the fire engine. Barry suggested that Buck should go in a vehicle that he had stopped to the hospital. Eventually Walter agreed. Buck was taken to hospital in a lot of pain. He was given a shot of Morphine and the Dr put his dislocated shoulder back into place. That must have been a painful experience.

Once Buck was taken away, myself, Barry, Knut, Hilde and Max started our 110 km ride for the day. We were miles behind everyone and we knew it was going to be a long hard day out in the wilderness of Bolivia. For the first part of the morning the road was just diabolical. The corrugations and sand were making it so hard that at stages we had to get off and walk through ankle high sand. We would be riding along and then all of a sudden our wheels would sink in the depths of soft powdery sand. The more you tried to pedal the more exhausted you become. By the time we reached the lunch stop at 55 kms we were all pretty tired and we still had another 55 kms of the same conditions.

As we pulled into the town Tolapampa the only people around were JR, Hardy and Jurg. No one from Bike Dreams was there inquiring where the lunch truck was, we had to fend for ourselves. If this little town had no bananas, bread and water, we were seriously stuffed. I had no more food and my water supply was zero.

We all sat down in this little shop and devoured banana rolls and water. I bought 2 extra bananas for the afternoon ride. After a good 45 minute break we had to get back out on the road and bust our guts for another 4 hours.

The group was now down to 4 riders, Max has stopped Roberto's truck and called it a day. The 4 of hit the road at 1pm up and down small climbs all afternoon, walking through sand, swerving in sand, trying to keep the bike upright and pointed straight ahead. Barry came off in the afternoon, his 2^nd fall for the day. Fortunately for him it was a bit of skin off, but he's fine.

With the sun now belting down on our backs, I was just hanging for this day to end. We were the last riders out on the road and I can't tell you how draining it is to ride the roads that are just a sandy track only fit for 4WD vehicles. I suppose this is what toughens one up.

With about 1 hour to go we started to climb some serious mountains with steep gradients. At times I was travelling at speeds of 5 kph. It probably would have been faster to walk up the damn thing. When we reached the top of the climb we would then cruise down the other side smashing into rocks and bouncing all over the road because of the corrugations, then you would just about come to a standstill and have to start all over again.

The next town we past was Cordas. This town was now a ghost town. It appears to have had some type of mining industry going on years ago. It had rail lines going to the areas but it was clear they hadn't been used in years. We pushed on up out of the town and rolled into our destination of Atocha. When we reached the outskirts of town, Robert the boss told us that the camping ground was situated 7 kms outside of town, and we had to climb a 6 km mountain to get close to the campsite.

Myself, Barry and Knut went into Atocha for a cold drink and recharge our batteries. I was in no mood to start climbing straight away. We sat down in the gutter with a coke and chips, took the shoes off, and enjoyed the afternoon sun and watching the locals starring at us.

We couldn't stay around any longer and decided it was time to get back on the bikes and make the final push to camp. Robert the boss was correct, the mountain we climbed was so steep it nearly broke me. Barry was behind me and I'm sure he was doing it as tough as I was. Knut had dropped off the back of us, so we pushed on up the climb. After about 40 minutes of climbing on dirty, sand, corrugated mountain we reached the summit and could see the red fire engine in the distance. It was a simple coast down the other side and roll into camp. Immediately I got my tent an bag and set up Tent Hilton. With a quick wash down and change of clothes, I went over to see how Buck was. He was in his tent with his arm in a sling. He was feeling much better but the side affects of the drugs was making him very drowsy. I don't think we'll see Buck back on the bike for a couple of days.

With the sun setting it was time for dinner. The night was getting cold and people were heading to their tents to get some much needed sleep after the beating we all copped today. Tomorrow is a harder day on the same roads and longer. The only saving Grace is that we are riding to a rest day at Tupiza.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Wednesday 8th October 2014. Stage 53. Atocha bush camp to Tupiza. 100 kms, 100% unpaved, 1545 metres of climbing, summit 4334 metres. Another brutal day to take us to the rest day. And a hair cut.

I woke at 6.30 am to a beautiful sunny and chilly morning. I quickly pulled down Tent Hilton and headed for the kitchen for a nice breakfast. We had another big day ahead of us and I needed a good size breakfast to help me over the many mountains we would be climbing. I had a bowl of corn flakes and a jam bread roll which is clearly not enough food to sustain the intensity of 50 kms to the lunch stop. I took some peanut bars and filled my bottles up and was on the road with all the cyclists by 8.15 am. 

The first 45 kms to lunch was like this, sandy corrugated roads which would slow you down to walking pace, and vibrate the hell out of the bike and every part of your anatomy. There's nothing worse than roaring down a rocky road to hit 100000000's of corrugations at the bottom of the hill. It's jarring and very annoying to say the least.

I rode with Barry and Jan Willem most of the morning stopping to take some fantastic photos of some of the most amazing scenery of the tour thus far. The colours of the mountains with their, black, grey, reds and green surfaces were worth all the hard work we were going through. Some of the mountains were very steep and at times I did see some cyclists stopping and taking a break. You have to remember that we are riding at 4300 metres above sea level and it hurts big time on the legs to drag yourself up each climb time and time again.

When we reached each summit you could see for a hundred miles over the tops of the mountains in the distance. Each time we reached a summit it was back down to the valley floor to do it all again. By the time we reached the lunch truck at 45 kms I was hungry, thirsty and dead tired, and I still had another 55 kms of the same after lunch.

I devoured 2 bread rolls in no time and was soon back on the bike with Barry and Jan Willem who I would ride with for the rest of the afternoon. The first section was downhill into a valley and over a bridge where I town once laid. When a mine or an industry dies in this part of the world, the whole town dies with it. The 2 towns we passed through in the afternoon were deserted.

The climbs in the afternoon were much tougher due to a 30 degree afternoon and the sheer steepness of the road. As we climbed the mountain we could see riders coming up from the valley floor in a snake like procession. There's one thing I hate about climbing mountains and that's when you come around a corner near the top only to see the road going higher and higher in the distance. When you're already buggered, hot, dirty and mentally drained, that's not what you want to see. 

By 2 pm the summit had been reached. We were now above 4300 metres and for a change I was handling the altitude quite well. Now the fun part began. We had a mountain to descend which was bout 15 kms long. I bounced all over the road trying to control a bike with only a front brake, dodging boulders, holes, hidden sand traps and not going over the edge of the road.

As I rolled down into the valley I waited for Jan Willem and Barry to arrive. Once in the valley floor the temperature rose and the road somehow became even worse than what we had just ridden on. I was swearing and cursing at the road conditions and the constant steep hills that were being thrown up at us around each bend. 

We were all tired and exhausted and just wanted the day to end. Our food and water was gone and we needed to get out of the sun and lay down and die. 

The scenery along the valley floor was like something you see in the mid west of America. Huge rocky peaks growing out of the earth in brilliant reds and browns. The river gave life to willow trees that were green and huge compared to everything around them. The final 20 kms into town were  enough to break any man's spirits. We rolled into town and found the Hotel La Torre and settled in for a nice shower and rest. I should mention that when you are climbing a steep mountain at a speed that resembles walking pace and a bus comes past causing a dust storm and pours out 2 billion litres of carbon monoxide into your face, you seriously have to question why the hell are you doing this.

Once I had the wash and shave I went for a walk of the town and found a barber. When I got my chance to sit in the chair I was amused that the white sheet the barber put on me was the same he used for the 2 guys before me. Also the towel he put around the necks of the 2 guys before me was the same as the one I had around my neck. 

During this hair cut, the barber's white coast was full of hair and dirty. At times he would put his hand on my head and then spend 5 minutes talking to his customers. They were having a great chat and laughing, probably at me. I had a No.2 cut which cost 10 Bolivianos, that about $1.75 AUS. I didn't even think to bargain with the barber. He reminded me so much of the 'Penguin' in the Batman & Robin series. He would waddle around my chair at a snails pace, cutting little pieces off, and then waddling to the other side to do the same again. To have a No.2 cut took about 30 minutes, and I usually do this in my garage in about 5 minutes.

For dinner we walked up a block from the hotel for a chicken dish which took 2 hours to get. I was not happy and wanted to walk out but the longer you wait the more committed you are to staying. Eventually I got my dish and it was pretty good. All the guys wanted to go back to the hotel and crash, so it was back for some typing and reading.

Tomorrow is a rest day, and I'll update you on that later. Due to the poor Wifi in our hotel, I'll try and post photos tomorrow.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Time Trial on the Salt Pans. Rest day Uyuni.

Sunday 5^th October 2014. Stage 51, Salar de Uyuni to Uyuni. 35 kms, 7 km individual time trial along the salt plains. I think I coughed up the inside of my lungs in this race.

I slept so well last night that when I woke at 7.30 am the other two guys in my room had made their beds, got dressed and left the room. I didn't hear a thing I was so out of it. Today was the last day on the salt plains of Salar de Uyuni. I did want to get up early and watch the sun rise but missed that completely by about 1 & ½ hours. Breakfast was the usual cereal, eggs, tea and coffee. I was really looking forward today as we had a 7 km individual time trial along the salt plain, the only problem was that we had a head wind to worry about.

 Lunch stop on the Salar de Uyuni. The largest salt plains in the world.

 We took this photo sitting on top of the Isla de Pescado. The island in the centre of the salt plains. From the top we could see the cyclists heading off into the distance.

 The photo above is of Elizabeth at the train museum.

 The photo above shows the hotel we stayed we stayed in last night. The hotel is the area for the starting point of the world famous Dakar Rally.

 The photo above is of our first glimpse of the salt plains.

 The photo above is of the kids who came out to check out the bikes. They come from the village where the lady was killed 2 days ago during the violent storm that hit our camp.

 Barry and Dave taking one of their many breaks during the day.

The photo above gives a good impression of the salt plains that we rode on for 2 days. 2 days of the best riding in the world.

All the riders set off at 1 minute intervals and I was 2^nd last to leave. To cut this race to a short story it goes like this;

I started off hard and within a minute I was just about hyperventilating and got a head ache. When you push yourself to the limit at 3500 metres altitude you realise very quickly how your body goes into the red zone. I backed off immediately and tried to hold a speed of 32 kph for the rest of the ride. It was just painful and so hard to keep your breathing at a regular rate. My heart rate was through the roof and my breathing was an effort for the entire 7 kms, and I had to contend with the rough surface and headwind. By the time I finished the race I was stuffed. I must have coughed a million times after I finished and sat down on the salt. I looked around and could see the other riders in a similar condition. I know it was stupid to push myself so hard, but I'm a male and we do this stuff to our bodies.

After getting my act together I got back on the bike and rode into the town of Uyuni where we will have a rest day tomorrow. After 7 long and hard days with some incredible experiences, it's time to relax and smell the roses. But before I can do that myself, Dave and Elizabeth decided to go to the old train museum 3 kms away of our hotel. We went straight to the hotel put our bags in our rooms and headed out to the train museum.

The ride was along the train tracks that lead to La Paz and down to Salta where we're heading in the next 7 days. Once we got to the train site we came across old steam engines that were rusted out and stripped of any valuable metal. I got to climb over a couple of them and got some great photos, also tried to find the one that supposedly was robbed by 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid'. Unfortunately they're no signs anywhere that could tell us anything about the history of this train wreckage site. It was still worth the visit.

It was back to town and find a place to eat. I was starving and we found a cafe for some soup, meat, rice, egg, salad and banana drink. Now for the best part of the last 7 days, back to the hotel for a hot shower and clean clothes. It's so good to feel and smell clean. The afternoon was spent walking around the small market area of town trying to find something to buy. I'll have a better look tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be a nice day walking around the town and trying to plan some activities for the rest days ahead. I'm going to stay in a hotel at Salta next week to have some time out from the tour. We have 2 rest days in Salta and would like to do some tours and enjoy what is suppose to be an amazing part of Argentina.

My post for today 6^th October 2014 is REST DAY.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

4 days of amazing Andean magic. Photos to come.

Wednesday 1^st October 2014. Stage 47, 120 kms, 70% paved, riding the Altiplano at 3800 metres all day. A beautiful day of solace.

Our night in the hotel in Oruro was pretty good, unfortunately I didn't read the sign that said breakfast was at 7.30am. So here I am sitting down at 6.50 am waiting for breakfast wandering where is everybody. Obviously they were still in bed where I shouldn't have been.

I'll stop whining and get on with today's ride.

We packed the trucks and were riding out of town around 8.30 am. Today would be a long ride along the Altiplano all day. The first part of the ride was on good road with a flat landscape as far as the eye could see on either side of the road. The flat landscape with small chunks of grass scattered over the fields and Llamas in the hundreds enjoying what was left in the fields.

As we rode onto lunch at the 50 km mark the road turned to hell. Rutted, corrugated, sandy and mud roads for the next 10 kms. What amazed me was the buses and trucks don't seem to worry how rough the road is and just plough on through. Even though the road was terrible I didn't care, the scenery was now turning green, a bright blue sky, llamas on either side of the road, and more importantly a strong tailwind.

The first time I got to see the fire engine was when it came up from behind around the 50 km mark. We found out their was a minor incident in town which caused some police intervention, but eventually the truck was allowed to leave and catch up to us in time for lunch. Walter pulled over and made some bread rolls for us and made sure we had enough water for the rest of the afternoon's ride. All the other cyclists were in front of us because we stopped off at the town of Toledo to have a look around. This was a very small village with a couple of shops and the usual plaza in the centre of town. I did manage to be chastised by some old lady for taking some photos of the children. I respected her wishes and stopped photographing. I personally think the gorgeous smiles on these dirty little faces are priceless and should be shared, so others outside this part of the world can see how beautiful the Bolivian people really are.

After lunch we continued on the dusty road and found everyone at a little village at the 60 km mark. We got the chance to full our bottles up again and take some more snacks. The entire group of riders took off together and finally hit the paved road. The story behind the paved road is that the current president of Bolivia has parents up the road from where we're staying tonight and decided his parents should have a paved road. Not sure on whether this is true or not.

We rolled along for the rest of the afternoon admiring a beautiful landscape which was now changing. We could see the salt seeping out of the earth all over the fields, indicating we were getting to our next challenging destination, the salt pans of Bolivia.

Around 2.30 pm we arrived at the small town of Andamarca. The fire engines were parked up the dirt road near a large hall. The tables and chairs were inside and we were given an opportunity to either put up the tent and hope it doesn't rain or sleep in the building. I chose the easy option and decided to sleep upstairs on the air mattress. Why would I put up a tent if I didn't have to.

Later that even we were invited to see the old Spanish church which was built around 1623. The gentleman who invited us was the head of the region. His story is fascinating in itself. The church has the tallest tower in all of Bolivia. History says that 4 noble people were sacrificed in the tower and now each year the region celebrates these 4 people's sacrifice. The inside of the church is quite nice but in need of some tender loving care. The head man or mayor as I call him gave us a great history lesson on the church, the Spanish who came to the region on horses carrying huge loads of tin but when crossing the river got into difficulty. Many died during this long journey. As a result of this the Spanish leaders directed that the church be built.

I returned to my little apartment and got my bed ready. I staying in a huge room about 20 metres long by 10 metres wide. Sleeping on a tiled floor. Dave and Diderick are the others staying with me. A couple are staying downstairs and I can hear the laughter and music playing nice and loud at 9.30 pm. Time to put the ear plugs in and go to sleep.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Thursday 2^nd October 2014. Stage 48, Bushcamp to Bushcamp Meteor Crater. 154 kms, 80% paved, 810 metres climbing, summit 3830 metres. A long day with Llamas and headwind.

Today we were given the option of either riding the dirt road or taking the paved road for about 40 kms. We were given the option because of the huge storm during the night could have made the sandy track very hard to get through. Barry and I opted for the paved section which would give us 60 kms of dirt after lunch. Now this is how it was suppose to pan out.

We left the penthouse around 8.15 am an hit the road for the 40-60 km ride on paved road to lunch. The other cyclists left us around the 20 km mark and hit the dirt/sandy road for the day. There ride was about 100 kms long.

As soon as we left the other cyclists we turned to the left and was hit smack bang in the face with a strong headwind. We were pushing hard to maintain a speed of 20 kph. As we approached the 40 km mark I started to hope the lunch truck would come into view, because this is where the road turns right and we take the unpaved road and would get the tailwind. Well, it didn't pan out that way. At the 60 km mark I had eaten 1 banana and 4 muesli bars and finished 2 bottles of drink, I was now riding without anymore supplies.

We pushed on along the flat Altiplano roads with hundreds of running in the fields and running in front of us until we could see the fire engine in the distance. It was 80 kms that we had to ride before we could get some food. I was feeling hungry 30 minutes ago and that's not a good thing when you're riding a bike. Barry, Jurg, Hartmud, Michelle and Buck and myself took our time eating lunch and wandering if we had ridden 80 kms when it should have been 40 kms, then how far have we got to ride to end the day at the Meteor Crater.

Lunch was over and it was time to get back to riding. Still pushing into the wind for another 20 kms until we finally reached the road that would take us due south and a tailwind. We were expecting terrible dirt/sandy roads from this point on, but fortunately for us it was nice new paved road.

With about 25 kms to go we could see the sky's getting darker and darker and appeared that we were on a collision course for one hell of a storm. We could see the storm on the left of us was going to join with the storm coming from our right. It was at this time we met up with some of the cyclists who took the dirt road earlier on in the day. They had just finished the dirt section and entered the paved road to join in with us for the final push to the end of the stage. We stopped for some photos of the storm and quickly got back on the bike to try and avoid the rain. Barry, Jan Willem and myself went pretty hard for the final 10 kms to the Meteor Crater. As we got to the finish, I quickly got my tent and bag, put up Tent Hilton inside a llama pen with metre high walls, got changed and headed to the eating room for some soup. Well the sky's opened up and the wind blow so hard it would blow a dog off a chain, (old aussie saying). There was no way I could go outside and check on the tent, the dust that had kicked up was blinding. I've never been in such a sand storm in all my life. You couldn't see the village about 500 metres down the hill, and we still had a couple of cyclists still out there.

The storm had calmed down by dinner time and my tent was nice and dry and in 1 piece. Some of the other cyclists were not so fortunate. I spoke to about 5 who said they had water all through the tent and ½ their gear was wet. Buck had a big problem putting up his tent and had to move it because of the howling winds. He also copped the worse of the storm and he ended up freezing and wet.

As I sit inside Tent Hilton at 8.20 pm the rain is starting to fall once again. The temperature is now 6 degrees C and we're sitting at 3740 metres altitude. Tomorrow's ride will take us closer to the Salt flats, but before we get there we have a very hard 75 kms of unpaved, corrugated, sandy road to navigate.

I mentioned that the end of today's stage finished at the 'Meteor Crater'. I did get to see the sign pointing in the direction of the crater but because it was pouring down I never did get to see it. I hope to get up early enough to check it out tomorrow before we head off.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Friday 3^rd October 2014. Stage 49, 73 kms, 0% paved, 509 metres climbing, summit 3800 metres. Bushcamp Meteor Crater to Bushcamp Tahua.

No photos of crater, still raining in the morning. I put off pulling my tent down as it looked like it was going to clear. I went for breakfast and by the time I had finished the rain had finally stopped. It actually rained all night interspersed with dogs howling just to make sure we didn't fall off to sleep too easy.

After packing up the tent I was once again the last person to leave camp. I think I've got to get my act together and stop sleeping in. I didn't worry about chasing anyone as today was only 73 kms of unpaved, corrugated, sandy, rocky road. Now that should be a simple day out on the bike. After a couple of kms I caught up to Elizabeth and we rode together for a km or two. As we rode along, the scenery of a reddish brown flat landscape that went all the way to the mountains in the distance was beautiful to see. The road continued up to a crest which allowed us to have a great view down into the floor of the valley below. This was a time for more photos of a stunning landscape that has has no human interference except for the terrible roads we were riding on.

Each time we stop for photos we are joined by other cyclists doing what should be done on a tour of this nature, take photos. As we continued on to the lunch stop at the 36 km mark we rode through a small mud brick village of about 10 homes and it looked deserted. I think the problem in this area is that the young ones grow up and move into the city looking for work and they never returned. I don't blame them, to live in this environment would be extremely harsh.

We rolled into the town of Salinas for lunch. It was only ½ a km off the dusty road but it was smooth and I needed a rest from all that jarring for the past 3 hours. You don't move fast on these roads, and you have to work for every metre.

As we rolled into the central plaza of the town all the riders were eating lunch and enjoying the morning break.

After a 30 minute break we hit the road again for part 2 of the stage. Another hard section of worse conditions, with bigger rocks, bigger holes to avoid and now my back brake has stopped working. Within 10 kms of riding we pasted through a village that was having some sort of ceremony. The name of the village is not even on our maps. We found out that one of the village ladies had been struck by lightning yesterday afternoon during that horrific storm and died. I just couldn't believe how tragic this was. There were men and women inside the village (we stayed outside) and the children were out with us playing around and having their photos taken. Life can be taken away so swiftly, so enjoy every breath you take.

As we continued on the road just didn't let up, more steep climbs with rocks throwing you bike all over the place. I had to hang on so tight to the handlebars just to keep the damn thing straight. By now there were about 8 of us riding together heading towards the summit that would allow us to see Salar de Uyuni, the world's largest salt flat at 10,582 square kms. It is located inty he Potyosi and Oruro departments in sout5hest Bolivia, near the crest of the Andes, and is elevated 3656 metres above sea level. What a spectacular sight looking out into the distance to see this enormous salt plain before us. Tomorrow we get to ride across it, and that will be another brutal day on the bike. We entered the town of Tahua around 1.30 pm but had to wait another hour for the trucks to find a good place to camp for the evening. Well they didn't disappoint us, we are camping on the grass on the shore of the lake, nice and flat for the tent and free of llamas.

Dinner was back up the road in the local hall and once again Ellen did a great job. On the bike side of things, I had to have my centre bracket replaced because it was stuffed. Lupcho our bike mechanic did a great job and I should be ready to rock and roll tomorrow morning. After dinner it was back to Tent Hilton and get a good night's sleep. My health is good, my bike is good and I'm still having a fantastic time. I'm really keen on tomorrow as I've watched documentaries on the salt plains in the past. I think we get to stay in a hotel made entirely of salt tomorrow night. Now that should be interesting.

It's now 8 pm and I'm turning off the light and going to sleep.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Saturday 4^th October 2014. Stage 50, Bushcamp Tahua to Salar de Uyuni. 102 kms, dead flat riding on a the world largest salt pan. Altitude 3600 metres.

I woke today to a beautiful morning with the sun out and not a breath of wind. First we had to meet back up in the town at 7am for breakfast. I got dressed, left my tent in a mess and headed up for breakfast with Barry and the rest of the crew. I thought I would pack up Tent Hilton when I got back. Breakfast was the usual affair but today had a difference, we had ridden close to 5000 kms to reach a significant junction in the tour, the largest salt pan in the world.

After breakfast we headed back to the campsite, packed up the gear and got ready to hit the salt pan. We all rolled out together with the 2 trucks behind us. As we entered the salt pan it was just surreal. Lay before our very eyes was an oasis of flat salt pans as far as the eyes could see. Our destination was an island at 40 kms where we would be having lunch. I rode along with different people all morning, each stopping to take a photo of this amazing landscape. Over the years I've got to see some spectacular places, but to see a vast open landscape of salt which we were going to ride over 100 kms on today made you feel pretty damn cool.

I would ride along for a couple of kms and stop to take photos and just sit on the bike and just dream about being in a place that not many people will ever get to see in their life times. I know my good friend Peter & Ema Felvus travelled here recently and they told me just how beautiful Salar de Uyuni really was. I followed the track all the way to lunch and then took a moment to take in the past 40 kms. We had arrived Isla Pescado and island in the middle of the oasis. Myself and Elizabeth were the only ones to climb the island to get the most breathtaking panoramic 360 degrees views over the entire Salar de Uyuni salt pans. From the top of the island we could see the lunch trucks down below and the cyclists leaving on a path that led 60 kms along a thin salt strip to the final destination of the day. I should say we are staying at Hotel Playa Blanca which is made entirely of salt. Even the beds are made of salt.

By the time we came back from the island we were the last 2 to get back on the bikes and start the 60 km ride to our hotel. We just rolled along at a steady pace with a huge tailwind making the journey so much easier. We stopped a couple of times taking photos and just admiring this incredible part of the world. There was no plant life or bird life on the plains, only a smooth path made by vehicles that crossed this land each day. Even though I had my trusty Garmin I did manage to take the wrong track, but luckily the lunch time fire engine came past to show us the right way.

We caught up to JR and rode with him for the final 30 kms. We could see other riders off to our right who must have taken a wrong track, and looked about 10 kms away, but distances in this part of the world are hard to judge. As we got closer to the finish line we could see the outline of a building and riders and cars out the front. It appears that this is the location for the start of the greatest car rally race in the world, 'the Dakar rally'. There were plenty of flags out the front of the hotel, but my first goal was to find out where I was sleeping and more importantly who with. I found out I was sleeping with Max and Jurg.

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with cleaning, eating and sitting outside and admiring the sun going down over the salt pans. I can't remember a more finer sunset in many a year. During dinner stories were exchanged about the ride, the photos taken and the excitement of crossing a salt pan which was formed hundreds of thousands of years ago. I think that this has to be in the top 10 of the finest days of cycling I've had in my life.

Tomorrow we get to ride 35 kms, 7 of which are an individual time trial. I'll be having a crack at it and hope to get in the top 5. It looks like another fantastic day tomorrow and one that leads into a rest day. I need to my ass a break from the seat.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

Leaving La Paz in the morning rush and beating the rain.

Monday 29^th September 2014. Stage 45, La Paz to Lahuachaca, 136 kms, 936 metres of climbing, summit 4080 metres. A nice day with a climb out of La Paz, rolling hills along the Altiplano.

We left our great room in the hotel at 8.30 am and commenced the ride out of La Paz through the madness of the morning rush. I think there are as many minivans in La Paz as there are motorcycles in Saigon, and they don't give a damn about cutting you off. You are a distraction to them which can cost them money and should not be on the road in their eyes./r

We kept as a group for the 10 km climb out of La Paz riding in a lane all to ourselves. The view back down into the city as we got higher and higher amplified just how huge and congested the place is. The houses look like they are sitting on top of each other from the base to the top of the mountain.

About 2 kms from the top Robert the boss came past and I decided to ride with him for a while. I felt good and continued on all the way to the 60 km mark for lunch. As we crested the summit overlooking La Paz the traffic went from bad to chaotic. The vans were everywhere and could creep on you and blast their horns scaring the living daylights out of us. I told a couple of them in good old aussie fashion what to do with their horns, assuring the driver that it would fit if he tried hard enough.

We rode together for 2 hours chatting about Bike Dreams, future trips, my trips through Africa and Eastern Europe and the joys of just going for a ride each day. It was a good opportunity to speak to Robert one on one knowing that what each other said would go no further. On that point he did mention some exciting trips he has planned for the future that go my attention. Might have to think about them when I get home.

Looking back down into the madness of La Paz.

With the lunch truck in sight I was glad to take a break, have some lunch and wait for the next group to come along. I had done all the hard work I needed to do this morning and certainly didn't want to smash myself with Robert for the next 75 kms to end the day. I took my time eating lunch picking the people I wanted to ride with for the afternoon. A nice leisurely pace is what I wanted and not a mad race to the bush camp.

Our afternoon group was Brigitta, Rien, Joost, Patrick, Michelle, Jan Willem and myself. We all took turns hitting the front and cruised along at around 30 kph for the next 2 & ½ hours. The road we were riding on was a new section which was not open to the traffic at this stage. We had a nice paved road with a couple of sections still under repair, but nothing much.

At stages Brigitta was feeling the going tough, but we never left her behind, that's not bike etiquette. The philosophy is the group you start with is the group you finish with. We all finished together at 3. 30 pm in light rain. The rain had been following us for the past 2 hours and the lightning and thunderstorms were lighting up the whole sky. You could see the lightning hitting the ground in the distance and the wall of rain chasing us was quite eerie. I knew that we were going to get wet, it's only a matter of time when it happens.

As we rolled into camp with mud all over me from the wet road and muddy sections we had to cross, it was time to put up Tent Hilton. No sooner had I grabbed my bag and the rain started to fall. It seems that when you're in a rush to do something it takes longer. I fumbled my way in putting up my tent and dragging all my gear inside. With a quick wipe down, I was dressed in semi clean clothes and now waiting for the rain to stop so I could go over and get a bowl of soup. The rain eventually eased and after a nice bowl of soup and a cuppa I was feeling pretty good about the day. Yeh it was raining at stages during the afternoon, but we had a road to ourselves, people waving to us and just enjoying riding in Bolivia.

I should mention that Barry didn't ride today. He had been feeling little unwell of late so he decided to take the express truck to the campsite.

I stayed in my tent for the rest of the afternoon reading and relaxing waiting for the 6 pm fire engine siren for dinner. We ended up moving all the tables and cooking gear and relocated to the school classroom across the field. We had dinner in the classroom and it was perfect. Ellen made a superb chicken, pasta, bean dish, followed by cake and cream. Now when I get home that's what I'm cooking.

Well it back to the tent and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow is a 100 km day and I'm told by Max that the weather is going to be perfect with a strong tailwind. Yeh right Max.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.

The past couple of days have been riding in a baron part of the Altiplano in Bolivia, so I decided to post a photo taken last week whilst climbing out of Lake Titicaca.

Tuesday 30th September  2014. Stage 46, Lahuachaca to Oruro, 100 kms, 370 metres climbing, Riding above 3800 metres all day. A fast day indeed.

We did get a bit of rain during the night but nothing to worry the sturdy tent. Breakfast was back to the class room for some french toast and cereal, bananas and coffee. The tailwind had picked up and I knew it was going to be a fast day on the road. Still we had the chance to ride on the new bitumen just about all the way to Oruro.

We left the campsite/school football field at 8.15 am and no sooner had we hit the road and we were flying. I started with Barry, Michelle, Buck and a couple of others, but soon it was down to Alfred, Hartmud and myself. Each time we went up a small rise I was literally gasping for oxygen. I was riding at 3850 metres most of the way and these sharp climbs took every bit of oxygen in the body to get up.

As we approached the fire engine at the 50 km mark we had only taken 1 & 1/2 hours. We had been moving along so fast it didn't seem possible that 50 kms had already passed. I waited for Barry and the rest of them to arrive for lunch and took a well earned 1/2 hour to try and recover. The weather was beautiful with a clear blue sky, no dogs, and no traffic to worry about. Max our guru on the tour predicted a strong tailwind and sunny sky's today, not bad at all Max.

After lunch I joined in with Rien, Joost and Patrick and set off at another cracking pace. After about 5 kms Patrick was off the back and only 3 of us were now left. We caught up to Barry, Kristin and Hilde after a long and hard effort at speeds of 45 kph. Barry latched onto the back and we all started doing turns on the front of the bunch.

We rolled into the city of Oruro at noon and the Garmin led us directly to the gran Hotel Sucre. When I got there, there was a parcel waiting for me. It was the CD's from the Death Road bike ride which had been sent yesterday from La Paz. I thoroughly recommend 'Barracuda Biking' for the most amazing death road experience.

Now for something on Oruro.

Oruro has a population of over 420,660 people and is located about equidistant between La Paz and Sucre at approximately 3710 metres above sea level. the city was first founded on November 1, 1606 by Don Manuel Castro de Padilla, as a silver mining centre in the Urus region.

Today's ride was pretty hard considering we had a good tailwind. The rest of the afternoon will be spent walking around the town and hopefully finding a nice cafe for a cuppa and a slab of cake. Since we're staying in the hotel tonight we have to go and find a restaurant to eat at.

Tomorrow we ride to the Altiplano and then will head onto the Meteor Crater. We have 3 days of camping to come so no updates, and it's back to the dirt and salt roads.

Until tomorrow, safe riding.