A roadside site of adoration of "Gaucho Gil"a farmworker in the 1870's who fell in love with a wealthy widow and when her brother's found out about the affair, tried to kill him. He "escaped" into the army and fought against the Paraguayans then returned to be captured, tortured and upon his final breath swore that the killers son would die if he killed Gaucho Gil. He did and upon returning home found his son deathly sick and asked the spirit of Gaucho Gil to save his son, which he did. And so, even beoyind the grave, the forgiving spirit of Gaucho Gil lives on in popular culture. This is for real.
Another roadside adoration site in Chile to San Sebastian . Lots of truckers, bus drivers, people of the road stop for a moment of reflection and request. What do we do in the U.S.?
A typical sign on Ruta 40, the fabled kin of the U.S. Route 66 pointing out long distances with little in between. Gas and filling up isn't determined by your gas milage gauge (I don't have one), it is determined by WHEN and WHERE gas is even available. That is why on this and on other rural routes, people carry extra gas 'cause it don't exist' out here.
Once again, in long deserted stretches of Ruta 40 the road conditions change dramatically and rapidly. From asphalt to gravel then hundreds of miles of gravel with different characteristics depending on the weather and composition of the subsoil. In this case the gravel had built up into a loosely composed pile and if you got 'outa da rut', you'd be in deep shit. Needless to say, another truck came by within an hour and helped me up. This is where the aloneness kicks in and I scramble to regain equilibrium(psychologically) (I can't regain equilibrium on the road since the bike is down). I've learned a lot about how to try and ride in these conditions but it remains a charged endeavor.
Well, how long had I been traveling with this nail in my tire? Was I going 75 mph on the asphalt section and 20 on the gravel section and for how long? Was the nail all the way through the tire or embedded in the outside? Did I dare try and fix it out in the middle of nowhere or keep going on until I arrived at a town where I might get some back up help if I can't fix it myself? I chose the latter since I wasn't loosing air pressure.
Cooking over a communal fire in Chile where dinner doesn't even start until 11:00 or so. Fire tending is an art and not to be taken lightly.
OK, In an attempt to get 'caught up" (what the hell does that mean?)I've had soo many new experiences I can't keep track of them. Of course that is one of the problems I've encountered in traveling- things get mixed up, dates, people, places and the 'markers' (to use my neurologist friends lingo) are weak and don't provide enough time or stability to help structure events in sequence. Not that it matters to anyone. So here are a few photos over the last week with lite comment.
A roadside site of adoration of "Gaucho Gil"a farmworker in the 1870's who fell in love with a wealthy widow and when her brother's found out about the affair, tried to kill him. He "escaped" into the army and fought against the Paraguayans then returned to be captured, tortured and upon his final breath swore that the killers son would die if he killed Gaucho Gil. He did and upon returning home found his son deathly sick and asked the spirit of Gaucho Gil to save his son, which he did. And so, even beoyind the grave, the forgiving spirit of Gaucho Gil lives on in popular culture. This is for real.
Another roadside adoration site in Chile to San Sebastian . Lots of truckers, bus drivers, people of the road stop for a moment of reflection and request. What do we do in the U.S.?
A typical sign on Ruta 40, the fabled kin of the U.S. Route 66 pointing out long distances with little in between. Gas and filling up isn't determined by your gas milage gauge (I don't have one), it is determined by WHEN and WHERE gas is even available. That is why on this and on other rural routes, people carry extra gas 'cause it don't exist' out here.
Once again, in long deserted stretches of Ruta 40 the road conditions change dramatically and rapidly. From asphalt to gravel then hundreds of miles of gravel with different characteristics depending on the weather and composition of the subsoil. In this case the gravel had built up into a loosely composed pile and if you got 'outa da rut', you'd be in deep shit. Needless to say, another truck came by within an hour and helped me up. This is where the aloneness kicks in and I scramble to regain equilibrium(psychologically) (I can't regain equilibrium on the road since the bike is down). I've learned a lot about how to try and ride in these conditions but it remains a charged endeavor.
Well, how long had I been traveling with this nail in my tire? Was I going 75 mph on the asphalt section and 20 on the gravel section and for how long? Was the nail all the way through the tire or embedded in the outside? Did I dare try and fix it out in the middle of nowhere or keep going on until I arrived at a town where I might get some back up help if I can't fix it myself? I chose the latter since I wasn't loosing air pressure.
Cooking over a communal fire in Chile where dinner doesn't even start until 11:00 or so. Fire tending is an art and not to be taken lightly.
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