FLATAGONIA
writing from Puerto Montt, Chile
Wetook a ferry from Puerto Natales to Puerto Montt, both in Chile. We´re hanging out now waiting for a bus to Santiago, and have some time to update the blog.
Story from Patagonia. We had a fabulous road trip as the pictures Bella posted can attest. The penultimate day we relaxed in a small town Lago Posadas, Argentina. After gorging ourselves on Argentinian meat and Chilean fish, the hotel managers soothed us with vegetarian fare. Home grown tomatoes, home canned fruit preserves, and spinach lasagna reminded us of life beyond carne carne carne. We left the next day at 4 AM to make sure we´d get back to Calafate on time for our bus the day after to Chile. I slid into the driver's seat ready to tackle the rocky roads, and Bella snuggled into the back ready to catch up on sleep.
All smooth for the first 2 hours. Sure the car fishtailed a few times on loose gravel, and once we made close aquaintance with desert shrubbery... but with a flat road on a flat plain with no cars for a hundred miles in either direction, we felt fine fine.
Until the road got really bumpy. Galump galump galumpy. I got out and consoled our right front tire, which had suffered a 3 inch deep laceration perpendicular to the rim. Channeling my hidden Nascar, I fished the spare (a full spare, not a donut, thank god...) pumped up the car, replaced the tire, and balanced the tension of the nuts with the greatest of ease. I was really proud of myself, I gotta say.
Bella took over at the wheel (she suggested that now without a spare we should avoid future encounters with shrubbery) and I cozied into the back, dreaming of Calafate.
An hour later, galump. Galump galump galump. The picture below is of our *left* front tire. No consolation to give -- this patient had expired.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross describes five stages of grief -- shock, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. We felt them all in a moment, but quickly moved to what Kubler-Ross must have forgotton. Laughing. Mostly laughing. Because when the nearest town is eighty miles away and you haven´t seen another car for four hours, laughing feels like the right choice.
We consulted our map, and decided we were too far away from anything to hope for a timely rescue. The road to the nearest town turned off 15-20 miles ahead of us. We spent a few moments with the front right rim, remembering how nice it´d been to be round, and then we started the car and galumped our way south.
The rest of the day exceeded our expectations, to our delight. We reached the intersection and headed toward town, and after maybe 2 hours a truck finally appeared in the rear view mirror. We hitched a ride to town (Gobarnador Gregores, Argentina), found an ATM and a mechanic, bought two new tires and rims, and actually made it back to Calafate in time for a late dinner.
Check out the fabulous map Bella made of our trip.
writing from Puerto Montt, Chile
Wetook a ferry from Puerto Natales to Puerto Montt, both in Chile. We´re hanging out now waiting for a bus to Santiago, and have some time to update the blog.
Story from Patagonia. We had a fabulous road trip as the pictures Bella posted can attest. The penultimate day we relaxed in a small town Lago Posadas, Argentina. After gorging ourselves on Argentinian meat and Chilean fish, the hotel managers soothed us with vegetarian fare. Home grown tomatoes, home canned fruit preserves, and spinach lasagna reminded us of life beyond carne carne carne. We left the next day at 4 AM to make sure we´d get back to Calafate on time for our bus the day after to Chile. I slid into the driver's seat ready to tackle the rocky roads, and Bella snuggled into the back ready to catch up on sleep.
All smooth for the first 2 hours. Sure the car fishtailed a few times on loose gravel, and once we made close aquaintance with desert shrubbery... but with a flat road on a flat plain with no cars for a hundred miles in either direction, we felt fine fine.
Until the road got really bumpy. Galump galump galumpy. I got out and consoled our right front tire, which had suffered a 3 inch deep laceration perpendicular to the rim. Channeling my hidden Nascar, I fished the spare (a full spare, not a donut, thank god...) pumped up the car, replaced the tire, and balanced the tension of the nuts with the greatest of ease. I was really proud of myself, I gotta say.
Bella took over at the wheel (she suggested that now without a spare we should avoid future encounters with shrubbery) and I cozied into the back, dreaming of Calafate.
An hour later, galump. Galump galump galump. The picture below is of our *left* front tire. No consolation to give -- this patient had expired.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross describes five stages of grief -- shock, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. We felt them all in a moment, but quickly moved to what Kubler-Ross must have forgotton. Laughing. Mostly laughing. Because when the nearest town is eighty miles away and you haven´t seen another car for four hours, laughing feels like the right choice.
We consulted our map, and decided we were too far away from anything to hope for a timely rescue. The road to the nearest town turned off 15-20 miles ahead of us. We spent a few moments with the front right rim, remembering how nice it´d been to be round, and then we started the car and galumped our way south.
The rest of the day exceeded our expectations, to our delight. We reached the intersection and headed toward town, and after maybe 2 hours a truck finally appeared in the rear view mirror. We hitched a ride to town (Gobarnador Gregores, Argentina), found an ATM and a mechanic, bought two new tires and rims, and actually made it back to Calafate in time for a late dinner.
Check out the fabulous map Bella made of our trip.
posted by backandzella at 10:14 AM
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