11.22.2017 The home of Pablo Escobar, or rather one of them, is now a tiny museum and sits atop a hillside with a clear view of the airport, chosen strategically for Pablo to communicate and watch his airplane cocaine shipments coming and going. I'd been fascinated by the war started by Pablo Escobar back in the 80's against the Colombian government and his outrageous behavior as the world's biggest drug cartel. Being in Medellin, I wanted to find out more about the entire st

11.26.2017 The Ecuadoran border wasn't too far away, so we headed for Ipiales the next morning, the last town in Colombia and the Cathedral at Las Lajas. He was fascinated by the bike and thrilled to sit on it. Mama was shy and tried to hide behind the baby Random Savant sighting Tossing gear into the hotel and chilling out for little bit, we then grabbed a taxi for the short ride out of town to Las Lajas. The gothic style Cathedral spans a river gorge and is quite the contra

12.08.2017 Walking the main area of Cuenca, I was happy to find a city that wasn't obnoxious, but instead was beautiful and fairly tranquil. The main plaza was filled with people and the large cathedral was one of the most beautiful I've yet been in. It was monstrously large and one of the more impressive from this trip. When I first walked into the back of the cathedral, a strong incense seemed to be in the air... until I realized the foggy mist was, in fact, aerosol spray

1.04.2018 After a month of time spent in Cuenca, due to the conflux of the motorcycle breakdown, parts shipped in from the US and the Christmas and New Year’s holidays, I was absolutely spent from the stress, worry and expenses. My timeline was now a month behind to reach Ushuaia before the ice and snow, which meant I would not be able to explore or enjoy many places I'd wanted to. I will admit to considering ending the trip entirely, in moments of depression and frustration,

1.05.2018 As previously mentioned, since I was still unsure about the bike's reliability, I had decided to skip my plan of taking the more easterly crossing into Peru which lead into the high Andes, and go for the major coastal road in case the unproven moto had problems. Ron, his KTM and The Beast Ken and Chip caught us the next morning at the gas station just before we crossed the border, an easy process and a quiet crossing. Ken, Chip and I had that nervous tic about fixer

1.08.2018 “Mucho cuidado! Mucho cuidado!” the old man said. He had come up to me to inquire of my route into the town, looking at the muddy bike and shaking his head at the road we’d taken the night before. Arriving in Huaraz after riding Cañon del Pato the day before, we’d headed back to Yungay and took the dirt pass road into a national park. It began raining immediately and the road was muddy and slick. Rain continued as we passed through the park and its stunning sheer mo

1.09.2018 The next morning I awoke in the cold, a single shaft of orange sunlight streaming through the hole in the wall, a bright orange spot on the faded green paint. Outside a rooster crowed, one of the only roosters on this entire trip to properly crow at sunrise and not 3 in the morning. I slowly got moving and grimaced as I slid into my still wet and now freezing BMW motorcycle pants, slipped on my gritty and muddy boots, then creaked open the door and stepped out to se

1.10.2018 The next morning, after some fitful sleep, it felt good to find some of my clothing dry from the last few days of rain. I’d laid all my gear and electronics out on the bed to air out from the rain and condensation, and luckily everything was dry from the warmer temperatures of the coast. The hospedaje offered no breakfast, so we grabbed a tuk-tuk to the town square and found a place serving some hot food. Lima was a couple of hours ride away, according to my Google

1.16.2018 My time in Lima was mostly spent within the Miraflores area around the hostel, a good mix of upscale and funky. The traffic congestion of the city is massive, and with the time and danger involved when on a moto, I opted to mostly walk and explore. The moto travelers in the hostel were relaxing and re-thinking their plans and destinations, a common occurrence I've found. It was a chill time for all of us. Some other moto travelers staying at a different hostel had c

1.18.2018 We left the heat of Nazca after getting an opportunity to speak with the DR650 rider, who was doing an oil change in front of the hostel. He was a Romanian guy living in California and had ridden to Canada with a friend to begin his journey to Ushuaia. He’d gotten sick in Lima and his friend had gone ahead to Cusco to make a pre-booked Inca Trail hike. He was leaving the next day for Cusco and would be a day behind us. Ed toyed with the idea of trying to make up a l

1.23.2018 The next morning in Chalhuanca, I awoke to a freezing cold room and overcast skies. My gear was still wet from the previous day's soaking and was excruciatingly cold to slip into for the hotel breakfast, which consisted of a piece of bread, butter and jam. It didn’t help that the staff were frying eggs in the kitchen for themselves and as I sat pitying myself, Ed texted he was having breakfast in town. I said I would hit the road at 9 because it showed to be another

1.24.2018 It was about 8 am when Christine, Jules and I headed out of the parking lot and down the steep streets of Cusco to find gasoline for the bikes. The girls at the hotel had said the chance of encountering snow on the route to Puno and Lake Titicaca was a real possibility, which added to my interest. I led on the way out of town, taking a main street alongside the airport that was so bad it was hard to believe it existed in a city. Truly terrible. Our route out of town

1.26.2018 The new hotel in Tacna I moved into was nice and I was able to chill while waiting for Jules and Christine to arrive in town. They would be coming from Arequipa a day later, so I had a day to explore the nearby square and upload a couple of blog posts. Tacna was the last town in Peru before crossing into Chile. It, as most of the other coastal towns, was not attractive or picturesque, however there was a tranquility to the dusty place and it seemed to draw a fair nu

2.11.2018 After the night in the hostel in Osorno, I returned to MotoAventura to look at some gear and buy some oil for the bike, specifically for the final drive. When I got there, there was a heavily loaded KLR 650 already parked, with the rider inside. I briefly spoke with him, Gary, as he was looking for oil and a place to change it. The local Kawasaki dealer was the place he left for, briefly discussing our routes south for Ushuaia. The shop said they could fit my bike i

2.12.2018 Despite crossing back into Chile being my destination that day, I still needed to get insurance for Argentina in Esquel before leaving if possible, since I'd be crisscrossing the border a few times. I hit 5 places, all closed for holiday of course, then gassed up and gunned it for the Futaleufu border crossing and praying I wouldn’t get stopped. I’ve heard consequences are severe if you are caught without it and Jules had just met two Chilean riders whose bikes had

2.13.2018 The next morning I left La Junta early for Coyhaique, the larger town further south. As I gassed up, I watched a few adventure bikes stop on the roadside for a conference. There had been a lot of bikes - well, relative to the few I’ve seen overall on the trip - and it seems that Brazilian, Argentinian and Chilean riders really love the roads of the region. My favorites are the MotoViajeros however, the Harley-inspired looking bikers on small adventure bikes. A great

2.17.2018 The next morning we’d planned to ride together and take the road that looped Lago Gral Carrera, hitting Puerto Rio Tranquilo and Puerto Guadal, then to Chile Chico for the crossing back into Argentina again. The road was great, running through the national park of Cerro Castillo, just a superb ride. At one of the photo stops, I noticed an oil stain on the side of my rear tire and then saw where oil had begun to leak from the right side of my final drive. A sick feel

2.18.2018 The next morning Tom went north on his black Honda Africa Twin, while Charlie and I headed south for El Chaltén and the fabled Mount Fitz Roy. There was a 70 or 80 kilometer section of deep gravel ahead, heard about from several travelers, that featured foot deep sections. I was hoping the winds would be kind that day and let us through easily, but it was not to be the case. They started as we left town and increased steadily, until we reached the gravel section whe

2.24.2018 The next day I awoke early and caught a glimpse of Mount Fitz Roy with the golden light of the sunrise on it. By the time I got outside its grey cloud had hidden the face again. Canuck and I decided to visit the glacier by boat like real tourists, taking the bus out to the launch. It was a very windy morning as the boat sliced across the water. You know you're in Patagonia when the stern flag is pointing to the front of a moving boat. As the boat neared the glacial

2.25.2018 The ferry across the Strait of Magellan to Porvenir, provided by Austral Broom, was scheduled to leave at 9:30 am on this morning and I was up early to get there before 8 since the line could be long. It was cold and crisp outside and I caught the manager setting up the continental breakfast to ask him to unlock the parking gates of the hotel. I snuck a couple of rolls from the plastic wrapped platters and a couple of bananas for the road and rode the bike to the fr