Friday, February 20, 2015

What next?

On February 20 in Iquique, Chile we discovered piston #1 of our motor was no longer fully functioning. Two things were clear:

#1 - we fully understood why we had such trouble in Bolivia, which you might remember from here (one of the reasons we started looking into our engine issues in the first place).

#2 - it was total crap shoot of what to do next.

All of the parts (head gaskets, piston rings, etc.) needed to repair the motor are not easily accessible in Chile. We started by looking for a new motor, but turns out our engine (Subaru ej22) is not imported to Chile because of the taxes on engine size. So we looked for a similar motor but in the end found out the similar motor (Subaru ej20) was too different to work without significant changes to the wiring harness.

With our options exhausted on the motor search in Iquique and our friend Metzler headed to Santiago we told him what parts we needed to repair Dolores' heart and decided we'd take a stab a tearing her apart. 

With that plan we took to the Atacama Desert really slowly with our fingers crossed that we would make the 1,000 mile trip in three days. After all, what could go wrong while crossing the continent’s largest desert and driest desert in the world in a 33-year-old vehicle running on three cylinders?
Metzler’s flight ended up being cancelled and we hung out north of the city for three days surfing, fishing and sleeping at gas stations while we waited to collect him and the parts that could potentially help to send Dolores and us south to Ushuaia. Surprisingly, it was a good thing his flight was delayed a day; it took until minutes before his flight left for all of our parts to arrive.

With Metzler on the ground, and parts in hand, we all agreed it’d be best to have a Subaru mechanic do the work. However, after multiple tries it was finally clear that the Subaru mechanics needed the car’s VIN number before they could perform any work. And since our VIN number was a VW they couldn't make it happen. We couldn't understand why head gaskets had anything to do with VIN numbers and thought surely we were missing something trying to understand the fast Chilean Spanish.


After a day and a half of talking to mechanics we decided to shift to plan C of plan B, which was to perform the work ourselves, by putting our best carpenter and internet cop on the job. We just needed a place to do the work, which meant more mechanic chats.


Meet: Carpenter and Internet Cop
By chance as we were getting gas, in English, someone asked us if we really drove all the way from Colorado. During our quick chat Gato told us that he was restoring a Series III Land Rover and a Datsun 510. Little did we know at the time but over the next few days he and his family would drastically impact our adventure. Silvia and Alberto, Gato’s parents, welcomed us in to their home like family and gave us every advantage to be successful at the task of rebuilding Dolores' heart. We ate three wonderful meals a day with the whole family and we were unbelievably grateful for their kindness and support. Gato’s niece, Maite, the 1 1/2 year old, stole our hearts with her wide-eyed curiosity and newfound love of the flash tattoos we gave her! Gato drove us on runs for parts and shared wonderful stories about his travels.


In a time that could have been very rough, we found ourselves laughing about cultural differences, idiocies of learning a new language, things that are the same in all cultures and eating fabulous Chilean food that we were unable to find in any restaurant. For two days George and Metzler worked tirelessly in the driveway in front of their apartment sized RV (that they insisted we stay in while we were there). We all cheered when the motor went back together and started for the first time. After the motor work was done, Silvia insisted she give George a much-needed haircut in the carport with the whole family watching.
As it became time to leave they asked us when we were coming back. It was too hard to say we weren’t – I liken it to telling your Grandma you won’t be around for Christmas ever again. I don’t know if Silvia and Alberto have any idea how much them welcoming us into their family there meant to us. They rescued us. We had an amazing experience while getting Dolores road worthy. As we all hugged and said our goodbyes, and even now as I write this, I got all choked up – there just aren’t enough words to express our gratitude.

It wasn’t all-tearful – Gato grabbed his girlfriend, Macarena, and they headed south with us for a few days! We went to Matanzas that night, stayed at the nicest campground of the trip and laughed around the campfire until the early hours of the morning. The next day we headed to Pichilemu and we all enjoyed ice cream while George surfed. Gato was planning a trip around South America in his restored Land Rover and we realized over the course of a few conversations that we were going to be in Argentina during the same time, so we made plans to see him again - such is life on the road.
It all seems oddly serendipitous – our van breaks in the only country in South America that imports Subarus, right before a friend from the states who loves to fix things comes to visit us, and we happen to be getting gas when a super friendly mustachioed man (with the nicest Chilean family) stopped to chat for a second.

Monday, February 9, 2015

Bolivian Beat Down

Day 1: We drive from Arica, Chile to Oruro, Bolivia. The border crossing is beautiful and quick – snow capped volcanoes, flamingo filled lakes and all at about 15k feet. That night we stayed next to yet another flamingo filled lake, with a beautiful sunset, stunning stars and the place to ourselves.
Day 2: We drive from Oruro to Uyuni on a road that is under construction. We get lost in every town that the detours run through. We knew about the road construction ahead of time, but it was the fastest route to the Salar de Uyuni. We enjoyed some fantastic pizza and slept parked on the street for the first time since Leon, Nicaragua, which you may remember from here.
Day 3: We know there’s a chance that there may be too much water to take Dolores to the Salt Flats, but we decide that it’s worth a try. When we arrive at the entrance, we know right away that there is no way we can take our house through the Salt Flats turned giant lake ahead. In places the water is 5 feet deep and almost everywhere else there’s about 4 inches of standing saltwater. The water creates a beautiful reflection of the clouds and the sky so we hang out for a bit take a few pictures and head back to town for lunch. We eat lunch at a small local kitchen near the market and halfway through my meal I break into a sweat and think that I’m going to vomit or pass out at the table. I keep it together long enough to finish the meal and make it back to the van to lie down. George decides it’s time to put Uyuni in the review mirror so we start to motor south. On the way out of town we stop to fill up on gas. In Bolivia, as a foreigner, you have to negotiate for your gas. Yeah, it sounds pretty odd and it is. It goes like this, the Bolivian government has decided that Bolivians pay 3 Bolivianos per liter (about $.50) and extranjeros pay 8.865 (about $1.20) Bolivianos per liter, so about $4.80 per gallon. What this amounts to is that many of the gas station attendants are willing to make a little money and give you a rate somewhere between the extranjero and the local rate. So George negotiates our rate to 7 Bolivianos. We fill up, only 7 liters (just topping off the tank before the big drive south). We pay the attendant and thank him and start to drive away. He laughs and says in Spanish, “What’s the problem, have you never bought gas in Bolivia?”
At first we’re confused, what does he need/mean? Yes, we’ve bought gas in Bolivia, but what are you talking about?
After a few more exchanges and him threatening to call the police (by this time a small crowd had gathered around), we understand that he doesn’t remember us paying. He’s asking for our full payment again.
But Senor, we just paid you. That 50 in your pocket is ours. Nope, not a chance.
In the end we’re forced to pay again. In total we paid 100 Bolivianos for 7 liters of gas, about 14 Bolivianos per liter, or $8 per gallon (almost double the extranjero rate). Not a crazy amount of money, and only enough gas to top off, but is was still an uncomfortable situation.
I think his forgetfulness was genuine; George is not so naïve. Regardless, we both promptly decide we have to get to Chile where we can afford to by gas again. After a bumpy and rainy drive that night we find ourselves camped out on the Altiplano and fall asleep to the sound of the rain.
Day 4: We wake up to a gray morning, but the rain has stopped. The large road sized puddles and water crossings are numerous. Occasionally we are reminded that we’re surrounded by huge mountains, because we can see the bases covered in snow, but the peaks stay hidden in the clouds. We make our way further south into the National Park, and when were about 6 miles from Laguna Colorado, one of the park’s crown jewels, we reach a hill at 4300M that Dolores won’t climb.
We try everything, I drive George pushes, George drives I push, running starts, zig-zags, reverse and then it starts to rain and any additional plans or ingenious ideas that we would have had are destroyed. We wait to see if we can convince another car to tow us up the last 25 feet, but no one comes. The park is supposed to be our exit of Bolivia and entrance back into Chile so we run through our options.
A)    On the map we see that there is an entrance on the east side of the park and we think we have enough gas to make it around and then out of the south of the park.
B)    There is a border crossing slightly northwest of where we are, Ollague, but we’ve heard that road is terrible and even 4x4’s have trouble. And we’re not sure we have enough gas to make it.
C)    Set the van on fire.
We go for option A and start truckin’. The rain has actually made the roads smoother and before we know it’s time to find a place to stay for the night. We pull off the road and realize that for 360 degrees there is not a single sign of human life except for the road and our van.
Day 5: In the morning the sun is shining, the few days of rain have made the roads a little more comfortable to travel except for the places it’s been washed out. We arrive at the park entrance sooner than expected. As we talk with the ranger we understand the road is good the rest of the way and the two rivers that we have to cross are low right now. We pay our entrance fee to the park, 300 Bolivianos, and make our way further south. We’re so excited that everything is coming together!
About 4 miles from the ranger station, we come to the first river crossing. It’s almost double our comfort level for deep water, putting too many things in danger on our beloved Dolores. After exploring all options up and down the banks, we go over our new options:
A)    There is a border crossing slightly northwest of where we are, Ollague, but we’ve heard that road is terrible and even 4x4’s have trouble. Now we absolutely don’t have enough gas to make it.
B)    Return to San Cristobal and get gas and figure out our next move from there.
C)    Set the van on fire.
We go with option B. On our way out of the park we chat with the ranger, he assures us that the road to Ollague is good, but that there is nowhere to get gas for about 300 miles. He does however have 30 liters that he’s willing to sell us for 7 Bolivianos per liter. Perfect, but it’s not enough gas to get us all the way to Ollague. Interestingly enough, we planned to have a bit of extra money when we left Bolivia, (just-in-case fund) and after this purchase we had exactly 100 Bolivianos, not enough to purchase the extra gas we would need to make it to the border crossing and then to the next town in Chile that had gas. Since we had to drive right past the hill that had thwarted us the day before, we decided that we would give it another try. The whole way there we stoked Dolores out, promised her a new paint job, makeover, the whole shebang. When we got there we both looked at each other, convinced that this hill was ours! We weren’t going to be beaten!! As the motor sputtered to stop at the same place we’d marked with a rock the day before we couldn’t believe our luck. In the distance we saw 6 land cruisers approaching. We pulled out our towrope and awaited their arrival. The 6th and final one that refused to make eye contact with us and didn’t stop made my heart sink.
At some point during our drive, maybe it was the altitude (14k feet) or the luck we’d been having, we found ourselves thinking about the pizza that we had in Uyuni that was so good. It might have been after I broke my window crank, thankfully we had one in our spare parts bag so the next time we stopped I quickly replaced it. We weighed the rangers advice about the road to Ollague, (keep in mind he’s the same guy who told us we could cross a really deep river with no problem) and in the end we decided to drive all the way back to Uyuni for pizza. Once our decision was made, George drove at neck breaking speeds over terribly washboarded roads. We stopped only to take in the stunning views – the clouds had cleared and we could see all of the huge mountains surrounding us. We pulled into town, almost deaf from the sound of our house rattling behind us for hours. When we pulled up to the pizza place, it was closed- the owner gone on vacation. Town was crazy with carnival so we needed a secure place to park. We checked the only hostel we knew of in town with parking. She told us they were full, but after a little checking she made us fit. As I rolled up the window as we settled into our parking spot for the night, the window crank broke off in my hand. Two broken window cranks in one day, must have been some kind of record of the perfect ending to the perfect day.
Day 6: Since we were back in Uyuni, it seemed like a good idea to book a tour to the Salt Flats. It was a great day full of sun, fun people, funny photos and someone else to drive us around all day in a vehicle that George wouldn’t have to fix. Oh yeah, Rachel got to drive the landcruiser around the Salar while we jammed out to music and rode on the roof of the car. Fiesta.

Day 7: We depart early in the morning and start our roughly 1000 mile backtrack to Arica. With the uncertainty of how the van is running we opt for the paved route via Potosi. That night we sleep at a gas station.

Day 8: We crossed the border into Chile and made it to Arica in time for dinner and head straight to bed.