Pick a track, any track, they're all shite!

I wasn't joking with the title of this blog!

Sorry Mike but I had to steal your title. It is the only apt one for our first two days in Bolivia.
So we leave San Pedro not too bright and early. The clouds have lifted over 'Mt Doom' and we are in excited spirits. We can now see the snow capped volcanoes on the border of Chile, Bolivia and Aregentina. 'Mt Doom' in Bolivia dosen't look so scary now.
The bikes are running extremely well despite the altitude and we tear pass the tour groups heading up into Bolivia. Following the sign we turn off the paved road, the last we'll see for at least a week, and head for the Bolivian border. It's here that I notice oil pouring out everywhere. For *^#'s sake. What's wrong with the bike now. We'd started the morning with Mike's bike leaking fuel, turned out just to be a random incident with a overflow hose, and now this. Fortunately with my new found moto mechanico knowledge, the problem is diagnosed as me not having tightened some bolts enough last night and the cam chain tensioner had come lose. (There'll be a test at the end of this adventure on all the things that have gone wrong with my bike and I expect you all to know as much about motorbikes as I do). It's all quickly reset as the tour groups take their turn in rushing past us.
We get to the border a couple of kilometers down the road, only to find out that the policeman who I'd asked about immigration for Chile, on the outskirts of San Pedro that morning, had either lied or, more likely, not understood me. No exit stamps for Chile then. The Bolivian border is fairly easy although they don't want to see any paperwork for the bikes. Strange but hey ho! The prospect of riding through Bolivia in the wet season is still top on my mind and thinking about anything else is diminished in respect.
We take off around Laguna Blanca, towards Laguna Verde. Mike quickly starts deteriorating as the altitude takes affect. Trying to follow my rubbish Bolivian map, we end up back at the information centre. I lose the first bag of cocoa leaves to the wind while the park ranger draws the correct roads on my map, I´m taking particular note of what roads not to go on. Armed with a second bag of cocoa leaves from the nice guys at the National Park information centre, we head off. By this time it's about 1pm.
An hour or so down the road, we stop just short of the Dali field, cocoa tea and peanut butter sandwiches. So far so good. Thanks to the cocoa leaves Mike is feeling better and the roads aren't too bad.
Next stop, some geisers down a dirt track a few kilometers off the main route. I take particular note not to go down the road I'm sure the ranger said not to. Damn it! Down goes the bike. First time for the day. It kind of got blown over, knocked over as I was getting off and fell over as the side stand sunk into the soft ground. It's right about now we realise just how heavy and inappropriate the bikes are for this terrain. Heading back to the main road, I get stuck in a rut, 2nd time for the day the bike goes over. Mike's way up in front but fortunately the friendly Bolivian's jump out of their jeep beind me, they really don't have a choice as I'm blocking the track, and help me lift it up. Yes, yes, I know it's mucho heavy!
All's going well as the shadows get longer. We're heading for the supposedly spectacular Laguna Colorado. The wind's picked up and the peninsular we were told to camp on is exposed, so we head for the hostal where the tours stop. Then the road deteriorates. Badly. We're now hardly managing 10km/hr stuck in deep soft gravel. Tracks and tracks of it run out before us. After an hour of walking the overweight lardy bikes through this excuse for a road, we're exhausted. It's a case of the grass is always greener and we're constantly crossing from one track to another, anything to find one that has a bit of solidity to it. Third time for the day, over she goes. Double damn it! Out of breathe from the altitude and being exhausted we plough on. It's getting much darker and there are fewer jeeps tearing past us, making short work of the deep gravel. Fourth time, over she goes. This isn't much fun. For the second time on this trip, what I'd give to be in a jeep, or anything on four wheels. In what seemed like less than 5 minutes I drop the bike again. This time there are tears. We can hardly make out the hostal in the distance, it's almost pitch black and we're shattered. And no, Mike didn't drop his bike once that day or in the whole of Bolivia for that matter, thank god.
After what seemed like an eternity of riding in gravel pit, we pull up outside a hostal. I've never been so happy to see an Africa Twin parked up. Kristina and Andreas are there, have been since about 5pm, and have spare beds in their dorm room, they quickly organise for us to sleep there and have dinner with them. The hardest day of riding so far is over.
It's off to bed early but not sleeping too well with the altitude and stress of the day's riding playing on my mind.
Rising early we go for a walk to check out Laguna Colorado. It's only now that I can appreciate the landscape, not only because it's daylight, but because I'm not cursing riding in it. Something that is short lived. This morning we head off with Kristina and Andreas. Between Mike and Andreas's GPS and my shite map, we have somewhat of an idea of where to head. But once again it's a case of riding in a deep gravel pit. Miles and miles of fields of gravel.

Um, what happened to the road?

Great. Mike's got the hang of it and is managing to get some speed up, lucky thing. I'm still struggling with the weight of the bike and fear of dropping it at any speed faster than a walk. I have no idea how Andreas is managing on their bike, not only the weight of the bike and luggage but also a passenger. They do however drop it, the first time for their trip that morning.
There are a few quiet tears to myself as I struggle on while the jeeps tear past, but I push on, somewhat consoling myself with the knowledge that this is the toughest riding I will have to face on the entire adventure. And somewhat proud of myself for not whimping out and taking the paved route via northern Chile. And of course, we're rewarded with some spectacular scenery. This really is another world, high up on the altiplano surrounded by volcanoes, no vegetation, just miles and miles of weird rock formations in an amazing array of colours (although to be fair, most of it is red) and gravel. After lunch we head a bit higher and reach some solid ground. We can also see in the distance, dark, ominous clouds. Nothing to worry about, yet! There's a bit of confussion over which direction to head but we end up following some jeeps down by a lake. The landscape is slowly changing, unlike the weather, which is changing at a rather alarming rate. Before we know it, it's raining, hailing, then snowing. We're in a barren landscape and feel somewhat exposed when the lightening starts. The thunder is thrown in to complete the atmosphere. It's right about now we realise that washing our gortex trousers all those miles ago maybe wasn't such a good idea without re-proofing them. And Mike gets starts to develop hypothermia when he stops to put his jacket lining in, both his t-shirt and lining getting saturated in the process.

Let's throw some snow in, just to add to the fun!

It's just after this that I myself become a tourist attraction. It's snowing, the gravel tracks, although not as bad as earlier in the day, are causing me grief and soaked through to the bone and freezing, I admit I am once again struggling. So having a jeep full of Argentinans or some annoying nationality (It was them that were annoying, rather than the entire nation) leaning out of the window taking photos of some chica struggling on a bike way to big for her, in the snow, waving a cheery hello was the last thing I needed. What's worse, they pull up right next to Mike who was waiting for me - again - jump out of the jeep in their little shorts and t-shirts to take photos on themselves in the snow. And of course, of all the places in the vast lansdcape to stand, they pick the middle of the only track that's working for me at this point, blocking my path. For god's sake, get back in your jeep and 'f' off!
Not to worry too much, we kind of get the last laugh when towards the end of the day, after it's stopped snowing, and I've got my heated grips melting my hands, we get into some terrain I love. Rocky paths. It's what we were riding on in Wales and for the last few hours I'm loving the ride. Especially when we pass a jeep, I'd like to think it was the one with the annoying Argentinians, with a puncture. In this type of terrain the jeeps have to go slower up the steep, rocky paths, so we kick butt. I don't stop to take a photo though.
Eventually we hit a fantastic road. It's gravel, but smooth and hard. We pick up speed and pass through a crazy lava field. Mike's off and out of sight as Andreas, Kristina and I crusie into Villa Alota. Torrential rain has started again but it's a 'propper' road all the way to Uyuni from here. And god am I happy about that!