While working on that last blog in Villa la Angostura, I heard Landon pull his GS up in front of the Internet cafe. It was a sweet sound and great a great reunion. After exchanging a few stories we made our way out to the campsite, which was located on a rise with this great view of the eastern slope of the Andes.
It was in Villa la Angostura that I heard the sad news that Tiny Walters, my neighbor across the street and dad of my ¨little sister¨ Emily, had died in his sleep at home that morning. The news has soften the celebration of Christmas for me, and I feel helpless and sorry to be so far away. I´m also grateful for his many good friends and family. The funeral was yesterday.
The next day, Christmas Eve, we made the short trip down to San Carlos de Bariloche in the Lake District of Argentina, found a hotel and changed the oil in the bikes. Inasmuch as there are so many Germans in the area, I had hoped to go to a Lutheran church for Christmas Eve services. But no one was ever to found at the church down the street, and there were no indications of time(s) for the services. At 7:30 we abandoned hope and took the short walk down the hill to the Roman Catholic Cathedral in Bariloche for the 8:oo mass.
It was a good celebration of the birth of ¨Dios Niño¨. After the distribution, a small choir offered a lovely Spanish song rejoicing in the mystery of the night. There were at least 8 stanzas, and I still wanted more. That little carol alone would have been enough for me to make the drive south to Argentina.
Christmas Day was fresh and brilliant in the glorious morning light. We took off on Ruta 40 for Tierra del Fuego, leaving the lakes, streams and mountains and entering the wide plains of Argentina. Sean´s bike made a couple suspicious noises from the gearbox, but they stopped. We camped that evening beside a stream at Gobernador Costa and made spaghetti for supper.
Worried about the transmission, we waited along the highway the next morning and looked for a truck willing to take Sean´s GS the 200 miles down to the Atlantic coast. We even made a cardboard sign, but the Christmas holiday worked against us. There wasn´t much traffic at all, let alone truck traffic. The bike wasn´t making the noises anymore, so we gingerly made our way to Comodoro Rivadavia. The bike held out without complaint until the outskirts of town. We barely made it to a hotel. Unpleasant sounds from the gearbox and broken metal parts in the gear oil confirmed a bad bearing. With the holiday, we could find no one in this oil town able to work on the bike, and the parts and tools we carry simply wouldn´t be up to tearing apart a transmission.
Sean decided to ship his bike to Buenos Aires to get it repaired. This morning we found a truck leaving on Saturday and pushed the bike the 10-12 blocks to meet it. Sean will take a bus to be there when his bike arrives in Buenos Aires. We´re thankful he has friends in Buenos Aires to help him welcome in the new year.
Our reunion, the three of us moving down the road together, didn´t last long, but we look forward to all being in Buenos Aires in February. It will be hard to say goodbye tomorrow.
We will continue to move south and hope to be in Ushuaia on New Year´s Eve and meet my friend David Lange who arrives there from New Braunfels, Texas on New Year´s Day.
