The FINAL PUSH- today, January 26, I make it to the end of
the road !
I connected up with an Italian guy Franz, yesterday afternoon. We
were both headed into a town called Rio Grande and searching for a Hostal. A town along the eastern shore of Tierra del Fuego that is dedicated to 'black gold'.(oil) Lots of young people come looking and getting work in a far off place and try to save their money for their dreams. So different that late teens, early 20's in many a community in the states. These kids work, save and then establish themselves back where it counts. Some stay and start families. It is the immigrant story happening around the world quietly.
We shared a bedroom and a meal together. He comes over and rides around south America for 3 months a year. He leaves the bike in different places rather than ship it back and forth.
We shared a bedroom and a meal together. He comes over and rides around south America for 3 months a year. He leaves the bike in different places rather than ship it back and forth.
Franz and I set off at 9
AM from Rio Grande heading toward Ushuaia, the southern most city in the world.
Amazing that the wind wasn’t blowing. Amazing that as we skirted the famous
Straits of Megellan, the water was as calm as a Sunday morning on Puget Sound
when it is quiet and still.
Thankful that no appreciable rain was forecast we headed
south. Smoke on isolated farm buildings was circling straight up, not going
sideways as it normally does. The sun shown and the mountains that loomed up in
front were freshly dusted with summer snow. Guanacos chewed grass in the
fields, sheep and cows intermingled. A very peaceful sight. Could I trust it to
continue in this unpredictable environment where four seasons can happen in a
day?
Circling through the mountains we then caught sight of
Beagle Cannel ,named after the pet dog that accompanied Darwin on his famous
exploration trip.
Since it was still
mid day we decided to go to the end of the road, as far south as one can drive.
We paid a price to do so. Once again buses loaded with tourists coated us and
our bikes with a fine dust.
Arriving at the end of the road was a muffled emotional
experience. I would have preferred to arrive early in the morning. To have had
time to feel the breadth and depth of emotion that might have emerged. I choked
up as a flood of feelings still came.The force of exertion I put out and all
the other unexplainable feelings that have emerged on the trip. 26,000 km
(16,000 miles so far)
However, we
were circled by busloads of German tourists who wanted photos of us and our
bikes. All well and good. Not the quiet time alone to reflect and ponder on 5
months of travel.
Now another task looms as I reconstitute. I made the journey
to the end of the road. Now what? Is it all downhill from here? Is it just a
matter of returning home, the goal having been met? Does meaning come from
choosing another goal? I don’t want to wander aimlessly (where does the value
of being/not being aimless come from?)
I'm still swimming in this and enjoying a couchsurfing experience in Ushuaia.
I'm still swimming in this and enjoying a couchsurfing experience in Ushuaia.
The entrance to Ushuaia, a town that has grown quickly and without much (if any thought) as to how they want to constitute themselves and be seen by the world. It reminds me of many a 'boom town'.
Many a gawking tourist wanted photos.
My milage from satellite. When it isn't on it runs a direct line which means the road is even longer than what is shown.
The Pampa
typical roadsign. Always long distances which require you carry extra gas cans.
Another sign although not for roads but pointing to several beyond most peoples ability to get to these islands to the south of Ushuaia.
Franz, Italian friend adjusts his helmet camera for some shots on the moving road.
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