Southern Exposure

Monday, March 6

We had an unpleasantly hot night in our stuffy and windowless room aggravated by a feeling of anxiety for things to be resolved today. We were not sure if we would have to stay another night in Rivadavia, but we were absolutely sure it would not be in this hotel. We packed our bags and tried calling a few hotels in town during breakfast. All of them were either more expensive or had no parking or wi-fi. We finally abandoned the idea and decided that no matter what, we want to get out of this town even if it meant riding in the dark.

We were planning to leave our bags in the hostel and run errands on my bike. Our two orders of business were dealing with the owner of the car that I dented yesterday at the gas station and fixing Matt’s chain. Just when we were ready to head out the door the owner of the car showed up in the lobby. We were not sure how we were to meet with him today, as he was flying in from Buenos Aires this morning, but he made it easy for us. He was a pleasant and civilized business man in his 50’s, and pronounced the onerous sentence I was dreading to hear. The repairs of the tiny dent on his brand spanking new metallic silver Jeep would cost me $500. That is about what I figured it would cost in the US, but I was so hoping it would be less in Argentina. I once again felt very angry at myself for being so incautious and sloppy with my parking last night, knowing perfectly well how devilishly strong the winds are here. Now was the time to pay for my mistake and I had no choice but eat up the price.

I walked with him to the cash machine, retrieved the money, he thanked and hugged me saying he was sorry, but such was life, and our first order of today’s business was resolved. I went back to the hotel and sobbed to Matt about how we could have spent this money on some great adventure or a 5-star hotel stay, and instead I just gave it to a stranger because I made a stupid mistake. He consoled and reminded me that while our expenses for yesterday were huge and unexpected, things could have turned out much worse, and as long as we were both okay, that’s all that mattered. True that.

We were ready to head out to the moto store when Guillermo showed up in the lobby. It turned out he was also a rider and was planning on taking a road trip to Ushuaia next week. He wanted to assist Matt with the fixing of the chain. I was stunned. In the wake of yesterday’s distress I shed a few tears last night while taking a shower. Some of these tears were in disbelief of the kindness and generosity of complete strangers towards us. Guillermo and his brother Hernan spent their whole evening helping us deal with our problems: find a tow truck, transport the bike into town, deal with the security guard at the gas station, and find a hotel. And now Guillermo was going to spend another afternoon helping us fix the chain. How can we possibly repay them for their time and kindness?

While Matt and Guillermo dealt with the chain I spent a few hours working on the blog in the hostel cafeteria. Guillermo went to a moto shop and bought a replacement master link. He and Matt tried to put it on themselves, but it just wasn’t happening and Matt pushed the bike a few blocks to the shop. They came back much faster than I anticipated and we decided to grab a quick lunch with Guillermo before heading out of town. After lunch at the marina we followed him to at least four stores where we hoped to buy oil. All of them were closed for a four hour lunch break, 11:30 am – 3:30 pm. What kind of working hours are these?

We were in a hurry to head out of town as we had over 350 km to cover that afternoon, and it was already 3 pm. We thanked Guillermo profusely for his time and assistance. I think as a fellow rider he more than anyone could put himself in our shoes, and knew that on the road motorcyclists depend on the aid of others in unexpected road situations like ours ; if nothing else it was good karma to help a rider in need. The only thing we could do for him was give him our plastic gas can, which we did not have any more need for and he could use it for his journey south.

I can’t say it enough – THANK YOU to Guillermo and Germán for their time, help and for coming to our rescue!

Our destination that afternoon was a small Welsh settlement of Gaiman. As in the previous days, the road was extremely boring, straight and cold, passing through endless barren pampa. We stopped for a quick fill up on gas and a cup of coffee at our favourite, and the ever well serviced YPF gas station, the only island of civilization in the 350 km radius on this stretch of Ruta 3.

The second part of the ride held for us much colder temperatures and intensely heavy rain. It was dark and our dark shields were fogging up on the inside making it almost impossible to see the road at times. The night riding and dark shields don’t mix well. Once in a while you need to raise the visor up to check on the road. The first time that happens, you are doomed, as the rain drops get inside and cover the inside of the shield, and there is no way to wipe it off completely dry. You close the shield, trying to escape the sharp raindrops penetrating your face leaving a tiny opening for the air to come through as an anti-fog precaution. But soon the visibility, or the lack of it, becomes intolerable and you start the process all over the again.

It was a miserable and dangerous ride, but we finally reached the town of Gaiman around 9 pm. As we were riding into town something seemed strangely off. It took a few seconds to figured it out – there were no lights anywhere, not on the streets, not in the windows of homes. We asked a lady on the street what was going on and found out that electricity went out just five minutes ago in the whole town. Groovy! That was just what we needed to help end our day on a “bright” note.

We contemplated going back to a larger town of Trelew, 15 km back east, but decided to see if we can find a hotel hoping the lights would come back on soon. We spotted a suitable hosteria shortly. The price was right and we were eager to get off the bikes and into warm indoors, and into a hot shower. We used our LED lights, which had saved the day a few times before on this trip, to unpack and settle into our room. The owners, a friendly couple, gave us a candle for the room, which they put on the bed table next to the window. I tucked in the curtains away from the candle and got ready to hit the shower.

As I made a last sweep of the room before heading into the shower, wearing just my bra and underwear, I noticed how much brighter the room looked. Before I could tell Matt that I thought the lights came back on, we realized one of the curtains caught on fire. (Matt later admitted that he moved the curtains while looking out the window just seconds before). Matt grabbed the curtain trying to put down the flames by pressing it against the wall, and I ran into the bathroom to fill up a glass with water. When I returned to the room, I was terrified to see that the fire doubled up in size – now half the curtain was burning up in flames and the smell in the room was horrifying. I could tell there was no way to stop the fire and soon it would spread to bed linens and the other curtain. I snatched the curtain out of Matt’s hands and pulled on it with all my strength, breaking the wooden bar it was hanging on, jumped with it into the bathroom and placed it under the running shower water, which put the fire down instantly. The owner hearing me scream and smelling the fire ran into our room and busted me half naked with a burnt curtain in my hand.

Visibly glad and relieved we did not burn the place down he said it was alright, and in a matter of minutes we had a new wooden bar and new curtains hanging on the windows. We were not trusted with another candle however. I was finally able to take my shower, and as the incident was playing back in my mind a huge grin of relief was planted firmly on my face. I was extremely happy with the outcome of the situation and my reaction to it. I could not even try to imagine what a disaster we might have caused otherwise.

Soon after we retired to bed for reading the lights came back on. I wrote the blog post till late in the night, and Matt fell asleep shortly. My wish for tomorrow was that we don’t get charged for the ruined curtains. We really can not afford to take another blow to the budget. And please, can we just have a normal day tomorrow, a day without our ludicrous mishaps?