Today we rode from Potosí to Uyuni. Then we went on the salt plain
and looked at old trains. The End.
Just a minute there must have been some details? Just hold that
thought dear reader, I will go and get some coca leaves and have a chew, back
soon.
10 minutes later:
Now that’s right, we did ride from Potosí to Uyuni but it all
started with us heading out of Potosí in the usual hustle and bustle with the
push and shove road rules. The ducklings were following mother duck closely but
then Hax and I got behind by about a half a car length, an impossible distance
that will lead to a bus or truck being able to pull in to that gap, we must
have been sleepy or something. Geert ran an orange light and Harry being right
on his tail followed but Hax and I just clearly haven’t adjusted and stopped
for the surge of traffic from both side directions. As mother duck disappeared
into the distance Hax and I felt very alone and lost. The light turned green
and there was a frenzy of tail wagging arm flapping, rapid leg action and we
weaved our way through the traffic to catch up, which we managed in about three
blocks then ruffled our feathers in the reassurance of having the Nissan to
follow through the chaos again.
Eventually we were released from the Potosi traffic jam and after
paying the toll (this area didn’t receive the circular on not charging
motorbikes we headed of on a magnificent road, so new that they re still
building it and haven’t painted the lines yet. This is a great road, beautifully
cambered corners on an excellent surface winding its way up through some
spectacular country. Ongoing highland dessert type grass and low scrub with a
mixture of different soil colours, brown, yellow and deep red. There was
evidence of full on tectonic activity through here with ridges of earth pulled
up and tortured with twisting and bending and finally being trust above the
surface. This road was awesome, did I already say that, motorcycling as I a
have mentioned is all about the corners and there are heaps of them. The Bolivians
leave an element of mystery about there corners also, ads there is no
indication of the sharpness of the corner, so you judge this and enter the
corner at your selected speed and hope you got it right. It is difficult and
uncomfortable to alter your speed once in the corner, you generally need to get
the speed and gear, engine revs etc. right as you enter the corner, then ride
it through, so first go on a corner you have never met before without any
indication of its attitude from its maker certainly adds an element of mystery
and excitement. It also means you generally ride slower than it would be
possible with more familiarity. Keeping the speed down, not a bad idea when the
road is covered with Lama, goats and donkeys, not to mention small children
herding unpredictable mobs of a mixture of these creatures, all with not a
fence to be seen. Yes we saw lots more Lama, lots of them. Eventually we came
to ether end of this excellent road, well not the end as that is not yet
created, but the end of the sealed part of it anyway. At this point we were
directed of the road onto a side track, just at the pint of the historic mine (can’t
remember the name) that has now been turned into a museum. We stopped for a
look. The first item in this place was engine 99 the last steam train that
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid robed. They eventually were shot by the Bolivian
army, or were they, some believe that they escaped back to the USA and lead a
quiet life, as there was no documentation of the army event. Who knows? This
was a very different mine to the one we experienced yesterday. In its heyday it
was considered a model mine and had a very nice village built for the miners
that included a play ground for the children, tennis courts, sports fields, a
cinema and a very nice urban environment. The miners all wore three piece suits
to the mine, then 70m into the mine there were changing rooms that they got
changed into mine gear and they went into there work. This whole thing was run
by a general manager, who was probably a benevolent dictator I suspects. He had
a private entrance opt the mine so he could keep an eye on things and lived in
a very large house above the entrance to the mine, once again to keep an eye on
proceedings no doubt.
We continued on the road, which was now a dirt road for another 20km
or so to a view out over Uyuni and the Solar de Uyuni, the largest salt flat in
the world. Now this sucker isn’t just a little bit bigger that its next rival
it is massively bigger. The best known salt flat would be Bonneville, where the
speed week occurs and all sorts of machines break land speed records. Well the
solar de Uyuni is 25 times bigger than that one. It’s big. We stopped and tried
to take photos, a bit hard to fit it into the viewfinder. Made our way into
Uyuni and Gassed up, then in to town for some lunch. We ordered while Geert
booked us into the hotel and dropped the gear off. A quick scoff then it was
out to the salt flats, I asked Geert “how fast can we go on the salt flat?”
“Its up to you” he replied, so off we went to try and set the Kawasaki KLR world
speed record.
It was a 20 or so km ride to the salt on very rough dirt road, with
bone shaking corrugations, a quick left, duck and weave past the pot holes then
across a land bridge and everything turned white. Pretty much immediately we
stopped at the area where they harvest the salt. Someone with a pick scratches
away and pills the sand up in heaps to let it dry out then they shovel it up
onto a truck and its off to be processed somewhere. We moved on another 5 km or
so to the salt hotel, you guessed it, a hotel made of salt. The walls are made
of blocks cut from the salt flat, and there is furniture inside made of carved
salt. It has seen better days as it probably melts a bit every time it rains,
which is probably not that often, but all the same it is due for a rebuild I
think. Took a few Photos, then it was time to visit open throttle country and
head across the slat flat to Fish Island. This is an Island in the middle of
the flats more or less that looks like a fish lying down from one angle hence its
name. It is about 80km in to the flat, and as you get in it is clear this is a
remarkable environment. The salt we are told comes from this being in the sea
in the past and through tectonic activity it was raised to the current height
of 3800m altitude, dried out and left the salt. One other explanation is that
the lake that was were was an internal sea with slat washing out of the
surrounding hills and depositing in solution into the inland lake or sea
really, with no connection to the oceans. As this dried out with climate change
in the past few thousand years the salt was deposited. Who knows, probably
someone but not me at the time of typing. The salt is between 2 and 20m thick
and compressed so that it is a hard relatively smooth surface, hence the
attraction for speed junkies who can go flat out in this place. Which we did,
at 3800m we found that the KLR is only capable of 140km/hr, or 145 if you draft
behind someone and accelerate in the draft pulling out at the last minute. We
did a bit of formation riding which almost ended in tears with Harry and Hax
making contact, but no harm done. We stopped half way to Fish Island for some
photos of the slat and the interesting hexagonal shapes that are made in it. The
horizon is curved much as seen in the sea with the curve of the earth being
vaguely appreciable with the help of refraction no doubt. Fish Island became
visible once we were about 20km away. As we approached it became clear the
island is covered with very large cacti. We stopped for a wander around the
island and a look at these cacti, which are truly impressive standing about 4 m
tall.
Harrys bike wouldn’t start, or even turn over. Great place to break
down. Thankfully it was just the battery terminal that was loose, so a bit of a
mucking around got that sorted. We were now under time pressure so it was a
maximum speed return journey, with some experimentation on aerodynamics and
body position, but still couldn’t get more than 140km/hr. Off the salt and back
on bone shaker alley. Half way back to Uyuni there was a hold up with police
having stopped the traffic for a cross county run for the school kids. They
were off, and the cars were not allowed to follow, so the cars all left the
road and a Dakar style race through the desert followed, cars, taxis, Utes and
three motorcycles all ducked and dived through the sandy tracks and bush in an
impromptu race for the town. It was manic and as close to the Dakar as I am
ever likely to get. Of course the motorbikes had an unfair advantage of being
able to return to the road through the ditch, once we were passed the runners,
so of course we were to town first, where as with all speeders we stopped and
relaxed. Geert soon turned up and guided us through town to the rail graveyard.
An area where a whole lot of steam engines and carriages have been bought to
rest/rust. We arrived just at sunset, a perfect time to see this spot with the
rays making for some deep reds, oranges and browns on the rusting hulks.
Back to the hotel, for a beer to celebrate Geert’s Birthday! Pizza
and more beer. Interesting hotel owned by an American and his Bolivian wife,
who have been in Boston for the last several months due to their son being sick
for unknown reasons, lots of creative perspective photos taken on the salt.
Cold night.
Crickey, that Coca is good stuff.
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