Written 6:45am June 29th
One of the best days that I have had was the same day I had the flat tire on the 27th. The Honda motorcycle shop opened at four-thirty pm (only waited outside a few hours) and by that time there were already other people waiting for it to open. These people, maybe fifteen of them, must have gotten done with their siestas early.
The employees of the shop read the measurements of my tire and checked their small stock but they didn't have the size. One guy drove off and returned a couple hours later with my tire. The tire cost me about three-hundred bucks - a bit more than I expected.
They didn't have the proper tools to change my tire so they sent me to a tire place that specializes in changing tires. One guy led the way there and luckily he spoke English pretty well. At the tire changing place they had a lot of trouble getting the tire off because the exhaust pipe was in the way. Then they started disassembling parts of my bike. I made conversation with the guy from the bike shop (Ulysses was his name) to distract myself from cringing every time I looked at the people working on my bike to change the damn tire.
Ulysses was pretty cool and we made plans to get a beer later at around 9pm. It took a while but the guy finally got the tire off without completely disassembling my bike. They changed the tire quickly and put the wheel back on. When I was satisfied that the bike was correctly assembled I paid them their ten bucks. So I got a flat tire at mid-day and had a new tire at seven thirty pm - not bad I guess. This could have been a lot worse.
I found a hotel with a parking garage across the street. I unpacked and showered. I called Ulysses at 9pm. That night I met his wife, a lovely woman, and later we went to his fathers place. His father is 110% certified crazy but he is completely awesome. He quit his job and became an artist. Paintings are spread all over his house and his house is just a giant studio. When we first entered there was some awesome Jazz music blasting from massive speakers.
Ulysses' dad offered me a smoke and we talked for a bit and soon the topic of jazz came up. I asked if he knew of Jamie Cullum and he went to the other room and put on Jamie's ‘Twentysomething' album. That made my whole day right then and there. He said nobody in Argentina knew who Jamie was and I said the same about the USA.
I've been to four of his concerts - all of them were small venues except for in London - where he's from. It was at the Royal Albert Hall and it was sold out. The others were in Denver, Vegas, and LA. We turned up the music to full blast and sang along while Ulysses looked on, confused with our obsession because he didn't enjoy Jazz.
I said goodbye to his father around 3am and promised to come back sometime. It was Friday night so we hit a club. He knew the bouncers so we went up to the VIP lounge. Ulysses is like Casanova hitting on all the beautiful girls. Clubs here close at 4am by city law so we didn't spend too long there. Also he had work in the morning and I wanted to make Cordoba in the morning.
In the morning, on the 28th, I woke at 11:30am and was on the road by 1pm. I had 400 miles to go and I knew I would be cutting it close to sunset by the time I would arrive.
It was already dark 60 miles outside of Cordoba but I didn't want to stop at a shit hole small town so I kept going. I had a tinted visor that makes it like wearing sunglasses at night. And at 80mph I didn't want to lift it for fear of bugs and gravel. I just concentrated on the tail lights in front of me. This was one of the stupidest things I've ever done - too damn dangerous. I could not see the road and I couldn't see other cars - just the taillights. But I got used to it after a while. I finally made it to the center of this large city and parked at a garage. I looked in my Lonely Planet book and found a hostel. I wanted to go out last night but the night before just killed me. I was asleep by 9pm.
This morning, the 29th now, I was up at six am and here I am having breakfast. I'll try to make Buenos Aires today. I got an email back from Mike about the home-stay and he said the garage is just thirty-five bucks a month for the bike. I told him it's a deal and I will arrive sooner than expected.
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Written 5:37pm June 29th
Only 63 miles outside of Buenos Aires and I'm completely fucked. My bike started smoking like crazy. I have pulled over and I'm leaking oil everywhere. I tried to put more in but when I started her up it just poured out. Just poured!
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Written 6:10pm June 29th
The SOS road guys just left. They were nice but one started smoking near my bike! Don't know what he was thinking. I had to tell him off. Plus my boots and paints are caked in oil.
My bike is screwed. I tried starting her again but it smoked as before. Also she won't shift out of neutral. Transport for the bike is a hundred-fifty bucks, shitty. Still sitting here on the side of the highway and it's getting dark now.
I guess I was pushing the bike too hard, 85-90mph. I was trying to race the light. I hope the bike doesn't cost a lot. It's Sunday so not sure what I'll do with the bike. Wonder if I can just leave it at Dakar Motos in Buenos Aires? I would hate to transport it to a parking garage and then to BMW from there tomorrow. This is the second time in three days that I'm sitting on the side of the highway. I cannot believe it, just 60 miles away! Now just sitting and waiting for the tow truck.
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Written 7:25pm June 29th
Cold. Tired. Worried. Waiting.
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Written 11:14pm June 29th
What a day. What a fucking day. Tow truck came at 7:35pm. I wanted to bring my bike to a BMW shop and lock it up near by but the driver didn't seem to know where it was and he even asked around. We just went to a garage near my hostel and left her there. I will worry tomorrow about her and what to do.
I went to the hostel that I always go to, Milhouse, but it was full and so were surrounding hostels. Finally I found one a couple blocks away. Luggage was heavy to carry around. The receptionist at the hostel saw that I was exhausted and didn't give me a hard time.
Earlier the tow truck driver wanted 450 pesos. I could only withdraw 400 from the ATM so he wanted my 10 Euros and 4 USD that he saw on my wallet. Prick. I was penniless except for some change. The receptionist told me I could pay for the night tomorrow.
I wanted something cheap to eat and wanted to use my card so I went to McDonalds and I got two cheese burgers. While walking back I spent all the last of my change on some cigarettes and a lighter. I felt like a bum but what else am I going to do with the last of my money?
The cig felt great walking back and I started laughing at myself - at all the luck and un-luck. I could have been completely fucked breaking down in the middle of nowhere. Now I'm only kind of fucked. I wanted to drive into Buenos Aires and do a victory lap on the Worlds Widest Avenue but that will have to wait.
I'm now basically broke so I hope I can make some money while I'm here for two months. I don't care if I have to drag my bike to Ushuaia in September, I WILL make it there. Tomorrow I will call Dakar Motos and see what they can do for me. If anything I have some contacts here of other bikers so I may give them a call.
Right now I'm just chillin at my hostel n the rooftop terrace with about twenty othes my age. We're all smoking and drinking. I had to get a beer on my room tab. The good thing about today is that now I know how much I can push my bike.
Strange that in three days I've had more problems with my bike than I've had in the five months that it's taken to get this far. God, I hope my bike is an easy fix - but I doubt it. Might have to leave her at the shop and wait until I have money to fix her. I've got two months.
All of the above was copied directly out of my hand-written journal
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