It takes about an hour to finish brekky and get everything packed up again and onto the bike, and then I’m off. I have a plan to take an alternative route back to Copiapo, however I’m not so sure about how it will go. I’ve only seen one route in the area the turnoff is supposed to be, but it features a very large sign indicating that access is strictly forbidden by the traditional owners. This is a line in the sand that my “dumb tourist” routine won’t cross. Still, I’ll look a bit harder on the way back and see what I can see.
I tick off all of the sights I saw yesterday in my mind as I ride past them. I again find myself reflecting on how remote the area is, with every one of the little camps for livestock looking somewhat deserted, despite the animals hanging around. At about that exact second, not one, but two 4WD utes zooms towards me out of a corner. Not sure who got the bigger surprise, but there is enough room for both of us to pass by without trouble. I breathe a little sigh of relief that I’ve been riding carefully, sticking to my side of the road!
Every one of the possible alternative routes back to Copiapo turns out not to be viable. I pass back through the little settlement selling bread and other things and again flirt with the idea of buying some bread, just for the sake of it, however there looks to be a roaring trade in truck drivers here today. Can’t for the life of me imagine where they are going? Perhaps they are heading up to Cerro Casale? I decide to pass on through and before long find myself at the turn off where I originally had to decide about upstream or downstream. The road downstream looks sufficiently well used that I decide to have a go and see where it takes me. It heads in roughly the right direction to get me to Copiapo, but it certainly isn’t the one marked on the map, although it does now appear on my GPS, once I’ve adjusted it to show roads and rivers (which had somehow been turned off).
Within the first few kilometres, I realise why the road seems in well-used condition. It appears Boart Longyear are doing some drilling in the area and getting their water by truck from a point along this road. The appearance of the first truck couldn’t be worse timed. It comes at the narrowest point in the track so far – I come to a screeching halt, think about back pedalling but there isn’t time with the truck bearing down on me with no apparent diminution of its speed. There’s nowhere to go other than try and ride up onto the windrow beside the track that overlooks the river 15m below, as the other side of the track is a vertical face cut into the hill. Obviously being on a windrow overlooking a river with a large truck heading towards you is somewhat nerve-wracking, particularly when the driver doesn’t appear to give a damn about your existence. He squeezes past in the end with maybe 20cm to spare from the bike, while I fulfil my part of the deal by not overbalancing and falling down to a watery landing. I also don’t want to give the wrong impression when I say he squeezed past – that implies he slowed down and gingerly edged past. No such thing. I don’t think he dropped any speed whatsoever from before he saw me and until he passed. I was, as you might imagine, a little emotional at this point…
Having calmed down and pressing on, the road winds its way slowly down through all manner of tight corners and scenery. The valley is quite narrow, but has a definite human presence with a number of stock yards along the way. There’s a few other water trucks, all of which are much more courteous and I get a cheerful wave from all of them. At one point, when passing through a thickly treed grove adjacent to a farm, I meet another one, and both of us get a fright and pull off to our respective sides of the road. We exchange (genuine) pleasantries, and the driver warns me of another truck coming along behind. I remain tucked off the road until the second truck passes, again soliciting both a fright for him and a pleasant wave thereafter.
Continuing down, I soon meet an unexpected sight, with the owners of the previously mentioned farm driving a mob of horses and donkeys up the road to the farm towards me. As you might imagine on a remote narrow road, a mob of horses and donkeys might get a bit of a fright with a motorbike barrelling through them, so given that I need a break anyway, I pull off to the side of the road, climb up the side of the hill and pull out the camera. All animals involved are a bit skittish to see a motorbike and human parked on the edge of their otherwise simple road, however once the leaders nervously pass by, the others follow in a more sedate manner. The cowboys consist of Dad and a son who is perhaps around my age. Dad is playing it cool (or treating me with disdain), not giving me a second look, however I get a cheerful smile and wave from the son.
Back on the bike and downhill, before too long I start to see vineyards. It’s amazing how far up the valley they have come and are using up every bit of flat land the valley has, which isn’t much. They aren’t exactly recently planted either, with some of the trunks being quite thick. They’re well established and well-tended, fed by drip irrigation. It’s also a sign I’m heading in a reasonable direction. Another 10 k’s or so and I’m out onto the main road to the south of Copiapo. I recognise where I am with some surprise, as I’m a long way north of where I was expecting to come out. I have maybe half an hour to go until it is time for my scheduled call to my emergency contact to let him know I’m OK, so I high-tail it to the north. I find an area with mobile reception right on 12pm, call Samuel to let him know I’m OK, then I’m off again, back to Copiapo.
It’s hot again down in the lower valley, so I’m looking forward to getting home and getting out of the thick gear I’ve got on. I eventually don’t have much choice to stop however, as I run out of fuel about 30km before Tierra Amarilla. It’s been a fantastic run, with the speedo indicating about 380km from the tank, however I know that overestimates the distance a bit. I’d guess at around 350km, which is still not too bad! I strip off all of my heavy clothing, add in my 10L, pack everything away, and then cruise into Copiapo at around 1PM, just in time for lunch. Perfect. First things first though – unload the bike, have a shower and change clothes, then down to get a vanilla ice-cream! I can then head back to my apartment and satisfy the urge for toast.
Chau.
No comments:
Post a Comment