We set
off together with Frank from the Plaza de Armas at 8 am. It was a fairly quick
ride out of the city and soon we found ourselves winding along paved surfaces,
headed eastward. After 60k the cobbles began but they soon gave way to the
gravel surfaces that would dominate for the rest of the week. It was rough and
dusty with countless steep switchback turns as we moved from valley to valley.
The scenery and remote feeling were magical. In the afternoon we were mostly in
hot, dry desert-like conditions. The temperature reading on my dash reached
40.5 degrees. We saw less than ten vehicles during the rest of the ride to La
Higuera. There were long stretches without signs of human life, but oddly we found ourselves dodging livestock that stoically stared back at us in
disbelief.
Taking breaks on the first day of riding
We
arrived at the charming hostel, “La Casa Del Telegrafista” in La Higuera, the
tiny hamlet where Che was executed in 1967. We stayed in an authentic rural
cabana. It was made of adobe brick and thatched roof. All the beams were hand
cut and joined with dowels and sinews. The ladder to the loft that Isa and I
shared had varnished sinews binding the peeled foot rungs to the support poles.
There were no electric lights. The young French woman who led us up the hill in
the dark to the cabana lit candles for us inside. Dinner back in the courtyard
was superb.
Scenes from the first day of riding
La
Higuera
After
breakfast we walked to visit the Che museum set up in the former school house.
The square in the normally sleepy little place was already packed with Che
supporters. La Higuera, at the dead-end of a rough gravel road, had no more
than six buildings. Nearby forested mountains had been Che’s final hideout. The
tiny plaza was adorned with three sculptures of Che Guevara. People were
mugging for photos with the larger than life figures. Generators buzzed and
clusters of satellite dishes pointed to the sky. The media had invaded during
the night. El Presidente was going to arrive today by helicopter!
Scenes from the tiny hamlet of La Higuera
Our cabana for the night
Parking and camping for a few early arrivals for the festivities
Our cabana in the woods
Ladder to the loft Isa and I shared
Statue of Che
Display in the tiny Che museum
We had
stumbled upon the 50th anniversary of “Che in Bolivia”. Hundreds of
people would descend on the remote hamlet in the next few hours. They would
arrive in 4X4 vehicles and high ground clearance cattle trucks but mostly on
foot in a kind of pilgrimage. On the ride back to the main road we felt like
salmon swimming up a stream of red and kaki green clad figures waving huge
communist flags and banners, all the while singing and cheering.
Samaipata
The day’s
ride was every bit as enjoyable as the previous one. The last section was paved
and we eventually arrived at a nice café in the charming little vacation town
of Samaipata. Samaipata is 140k from the large lowland city of Santa Cruz. The
town, at 1800m, provides weekend or longer relief from the heat for city folks.
It’s lovely.
We met
Frank’s friend, Euwe who strolled past the café. He joined our terrace table
for a while before we made our way to the house of another of Frank’s friends,
Mika. Mika is a multi-year motorcycle world traveler who has settled in
Bolivia. Euwe was living at Mika’s house while preparing a camper van for
extended overland touring. Together the
two had organized a recent Bolivian edition, “Horizons Unlimited” travelers’
meeting. Euwe plans to tour South America in the van with his dog, Chuck.
Camping on the patio at Mika's house
Mika
kindly invited us to stay with him during our visit. We set up our tent on the
stone patio connected to the front of his hill-side house. We stayed three
nights and enjoyed the stories and comradery of fellow travelers, all of whom
were much more experienced than us. Isabelle made two delicious dinners and we
went out for pizza on the third.
Scene from the carved rock at El Fuerte
Our guide, Gilberto
The famous carved rock that points at the ancient cities of Cusco and Quito. It is also a calendar and shows sunrise and sunset at all times of the year.
Isa and I
visited the ruins outside Samaipata called, “El Fuerte”, a UNESCO site. It was
a large place high on a defendable hill. Pre-Inca uses began around 1500 BCE
but the Inca used it for only about 40 years. Spanish modifications and
additions have fallen to ruin. A huge rock that forms the centrepiece of the
administrative centre is carved with symbols of the condor (air/future), the
puma (earth/present) and snake (underworld/past). The overall orientation of
the rock was used as a calendar to predict the sun’s movements and to aid
agriculture. Priests lived in dwellings carved into the sides of the rock. They
were buried in fetal position in niches that were also carved into the side of
the rock. Some buildings, where approximately 600 administrative workers lived,
have been partially excavated around the plaza below the ceremonial rock. Houses for a further estimated 3000
inhabitants remain sealed under a carpet of green semi-jungle.
Detail of the carved rock
Burial niches carved into the rock
Riding back to Mika's house
On our
last day in Samaipata, Isabelle stayed at the house while the rest of us went
on a day ride to visit a waterfall. It was a two-hour ride each way on some
rough back country roads. It was lots of fast fun. Mika shot ahead on the most
nimble machine, a super-light and powerful Kawasaki 450 enduro. Euwe followed
on a Suzuki DR650 (a versatile but heavy, street legal enduro). Frank was next
on his Paris to Dakar edition 1989 BMW R100GS (a very capable vintage touring
enduro that won a couple of the first Dakar races). That left me to struggle
along at the back with the biggest and heaviest bike, a BMW R1200GS.
Mika prepares the potent 450 while Euwe watches. That's Euwe's camper van.
It was a
challenging and really fun ride. I managed to keep up with the middle two
riders. Mika was unstoppable on the 450 and we rarely saw him, only when he
waited for us.
Taking a break in a tiny, unnamed village
Main street in the village just after a festival
The
waterfall really was stunning. The rocky upstream approach from where we parked
the bikes was a narrow gorge covered by dark forest. This opened to a
steep-sided, coliseum-like circular area carpeted in sand and bathed in sunlight.
The source of the stream we had been tracing lay above us in the brightly lit sand.
That same sand formed a barrier behind which a large pool of clear water sat at
the base of the falls. On the far side of the clearing water tumbled out half
way up the vertical cliff, coming into view to create a long, thin curtain of
white that cascaded to the pool far below.
Parked downstream from the falls
Euwe gazes at the falls
Swimming
in the frigid pool was invigorating. We spent a couple of hours absorbing the
beauty and having the lunches we brought. On the way back, we stopped at a tiny
school near a river crossing. It was one of the very few buildings along the
route.
The bikes really drew attention
The
teacher of the grade 1-6 school rode his 125cc moto from and to Samaipata, an
hour each way. It must be impossible when it rains. He had at least three
student teachers with him. They and the children were fascinated by our
gigantic motorcycles, all of them climbed on the bikes while we chatted with
the teacher.
A fun road to ride
A break in the same village on the way back
Villa
Serrano
The
two-day ride home was great. We stopped, dusty and tired, in the pretty little
town of Villa Serrano for the night. There was tragic news on the internet of a
storm in Sucre with ice and hail. The roofs of two schools had collapsed,
killing three people. When you send your kids to school you just don’t expect
them to not come home.
Ruta Del Che
Share the road, be nice!
Water break
Isa showing good form
Frank takes in the view
Cool bridge
Road scene at 40.5 degrees C
It's dry season
Approaching Villa Serano
Isa and Frank rest in the plaza after a long day of riding
One continuous eyebrow
Intrepid trio outside the hotel. We rode through the door to the inner courtyard.
Rain fell
until 6 am in Villa Serrano, only fog remained during breakfast. That cleared
as we rode on the best gravel surfaces of the trip. Soon we reached the cobbled
and paved roads and it was time to gas up in Tarabuco.
These Canadian foreign aid infrastructure development signs are common throughout Bolivia
This man insisted I take his photo, then asked for one hundred dollars. I paid him a reasonable tip.
Back on the cobbles
We passed
by the service station and parked 50m down the road. Three trips to the pumps
with our little jerry cans gave us a full load of fuel, including our reserves.
It took about 45 minutes to accomplish but our little method seemed to
guarantee us getting served and not turned away. Selling gas to foreigners
requires a large amount of paperwork for the vendors. It is common for them to
simply refuse us service, thus avoiding the extra work for a small sale.
Showing up, empty bottles in hand and without a foreign plated vehicle seemed
to do the trick.
Interesting rock formations
Overlook scene - note the drainage fans leading to the valley floor.
A typical finca (farm) in the highlands
Our fantastic Spanish teacher, Mariesol
A group
of riders on KLR’s passed us while we sat at the side of the road. They waved
enthusiastically as they roared past us. We returned the greeting and watched
as they too pulled over, a couple of hundred meters away. They were on a tour
with “Bolivia Motorcycle Adventures”, a tour company based near Santa Cruz. I
chatted with the tour leader/business owner, named Gerry at the pumps while his
support driver filled rows of jerry cans with fuel. He said his clients were
Russian.
“Do you
speak Russian?”, I asked.
“Nope,
but one of them kinda speaks English”, Gerry replied.
Some of Frank's fabulous photos
This one will become a classic
Isabelle riding
Overlook scene
Terry riding
We
reached home in time for a shower and a late lunch. It had been a great seven-day
trip during which we had seen remote pockets of authentic rural Bolivia. We
really enjoy visiting popular attractions. They are popular because they are
interesting but this rural tour, and others like it, will remain firmly in our
memories. They are the reason we ride. There are no restrictions.
