Project VELAIA

Even before we had started the day many trucks carrying heavy loads and producing clouds of dust, had already passed. The tent therefore under a thin and light layer of brown dust. We were lucky that it was not volcanic dust.

At the time we couldn’t really understand where everybody was going.

Guallatire, the tiny little village we were heading for, was obviously not the reason for the rush of lorries, no way. At the police station a friendly officer, a carabiñero, filled the strange black water sack with water, so we could continue. No shops, no new chocolate reserves for us, no reason to stay here any longer … life is so easy.

Now what better reason could there be to continue than the clouds emitted by the smoking Guallatire volcano (6060 m) right next to you? All the trouble we already had with all the dust lorries, we didn’t want it to get any worse on a much bigger dimension. So, lets go!

At the bottom of the valley now. Time for a short snack break. The day should get a pretty hard one for both of us. The terrible road, the big trucks, strong sunlight, fully loaded bikes, the altitude and only mediocre food supply … what an outlook. An exhausted body easily spreads this fatigue on and weighs heavily on your mind!

Trivia start to matter and they’ll keep your mind tied up. That’s pretty hard when you’re alone but it’s a thousand times harder when you’re a group! In these situations silence is golden. Your mental capabilities are not 100%  – far from that – so you have to find a way to control your thoughts. In these situations a bit of intuition can help a lot!

I went to the river, picked up some stones and threw them into the water. Later I slung them into the water and watched them disturb the otherwise harmonious flow of the water.

These interruptions, these turbulences caused by my stones make me think. What are we, I mean we humans? Are we also not just some turbulences in the flow of time on this planet? Some may think they’re great but in the end the stream will compensate the differences. A big manager lying in the flow of time like a giant rock in a dangerous current somewhere in the mountains. When his time as individual is over maybe his ideas will live on for some time, but these times are limited like the lifetime of a rock in a strong current. Tiny little sand particles in the water will hit it and make it to sand itself over time. All the big names of today, for how long will they be known, for how long will people talk about them? So what should we focus on in life? Is it important to pass on your wealth? What about your genes and ideas? Or might it be better to live in a meaningful way, connected to others, living a life of love and peace and unifying with what you’ll be one with anyway when you’ve passed?

We continued, leaving volcano Guallatire behind. Now slowly we got the idea why the trucks came here. Must be the salt lake Surire because at certain places on the road we found what they had lost, 5 cm big parts of the salt lake. From above 4000 m altitude they were bringing this white crust down to the ocean it seemed.

The police officer in Guallatire replied to my question about what the camiones had laden with an answer I could not understand. But I surely couldn’t make out the word sal in his reply, so I was mislead the first half of the day. Probably he had answered something about the industrial usage of the salt. There’s another word which I’ve just found on the dictionary right now: clorhidrico.

Finally we make out the lake of salt directly in front of us. Tiny little things, smaller than ant for sure, are slowly wandering over the surface of the great white plain. That’s the trucks, these tiny little bastards

Due to the heavy winds that came up in the late afternoon we decide to pitch the tent quickly. Cycling is getting too frustrating if you can’t make the progress you’ve planned in your head.

Securing the tent from the furious winds has first priority! Better take 10 minutes longer and have a safe shelter for the night than risking to lose the precious 600 € shelter, the only shelter we had.

removing night shelter

After quarter an hour on the bike we arrived at a national park ranger station. Not a lot of people there, but two cyclists from Germany, Tardis and Arno. They told us that inside the station we could refill the water and that there was a television team in the area at the moment to make a documentary about the wildlife up here.

The two took two months off from work to ride in the area Bolivia – Chile – Argentina. They had already been to Salar Uyuni and could tell us quite a bit. We were very lucky to meet them, not only because of the interesting chatting but also because they gave us maps they didn’t need anymore for Bolivia and detailed Russian maps for the laguna route. Thanks a lot! I could even copy a detailed description of the remote area around the lagunas from a small book they had with them.

Arno had been in South America before but not on a bike if I remember correctly.

Meeting cyclists Tardis & Arne

While I talked to them my Dad followed one of the vizcachas, small chinchilla and rabbit like animals hopping around the national park house. I guess they would make nice accessories for the tent at night when your feet get cold, maybe a good idea for touring cyclist pets Just don’t think about the trouble you might have at borders.

Vizcacha, relative with chinchilla

Now with the information they supplied we got into a small dilemma: There were two options to get to the next village: 1) Pretty flat along the Salar de Surire. Taking this one we would have to cross the border to Bolivia for a short stretch without a visa for Bolivia! Risky in my eyes. I had heart from other cyclists (namely Wilbert from the Netherlands) who have payed a lot of money because they have been caught in other countries without the needed entry stamp. Now I guess it’d be even worse without a visa.

Option number 2) was to cycle up a really bad gravel road, sometimes really sandy, to a 4700 m pass.

I guess your character and mentality, the way you’re thinking, influences a lot now, how you decide. Coming from Germany and being raised in a pretty strict and conservative culture I am used not to see things that relaxed (as for example some French friends of mine did or many cultures I came in contact with in South America). Additionally our budget at the time couldn’t have coped with a several hundred or even thousand € loss, so we opt for number 2).

Cycling between sky and earth

Not a bad decision if we don’t take into account the tough road. Almost no traffic with the exception on one 4×4, and amazingly colorful mountains and vicunas beside the road every now and then.

Colorful mountains

horrendous road but incredible place to be

After the tough uphill a similarly tough downhill followed, all filled with bumps in the road every 50 cm. A tough job not only for the rider, but also causing material fatigue.

view to Bolivia after 4700 m pass

Reaching the bottom of the wide valley we continued south. In the evening the same game as the day before: 4 or 5 pm: Strong sidewinds from the coast start to make cycling harder and harder. Add the exhaustion from riding 4 or 5 hours on above 4000 m and you can understand why we take the next opportunity to pitch the tent: A small deserted village with a nice, locked church serves fine as a wind shield. At least till we’ve pitched the tent, then the wind turns and the tent starts shaking like a flag in the wind.

inner view from sleeping bag position in freezing night