The Motorcycle Diaries: La Quinceañera

La Quinceañera describes a special event in the life of a Latin American girl. It is the day she turns 15 which symbolizes her admission into womanhood and is celebrated on a large scale. Since my motorcycle Morena is also 15 years of age I am starting to wonder if I should attribute her rambunctious behavior to her teenage years or if all motorcycles are as high maintenance and similarly compulsive.

As you recall on the first day she lit herself on fire (an event I will certainly never forget) burning her right side (along with some luggage), then there was the loose mirror incidence as well as her insatiable thirst for gasoline and oil. The fact that the Argentineans did not let her cross the border to Chile did not go over well with an emotional teenage girl. Upon return from Fireland she started refusing to go into first gear (specifically the first gear would register without problems but the engine died immediately). Then to my surprise I found out that the rear tire was not only losing its profile rapidly but was also leaking air. The next sign of teenage rebellion was a leak in the gas tank (which thanks to a saving angel I noticed only moments before leaving El Chaltén to embark on a 1000km journey on Highway 40 without mechanic and 350km without gas station).

The constant vibration (especially on dirt and gravel roads) is extremely hard not only on the driver but more so on the motorcycle and has the consequence of loosening everything that is not absolutely tight. One day I lost my blinker (it simply fell off) because over time the screw holding it in place had fallen off. Another day, I almost dropped my luggage all over the highway because the screws supporting it had either fallen out or loosened. Fortunately in both instances I was very lucky and all damage was avoided. The lesson learned was that before embarking on my daily trips I would inspect the motorcycle and tighten all obvious loose screws (and in case the screw had already been lost, attach the pieces with duck tape).

This story would not be complete without mentioning the crash in National Park Los Alceres costing me a few grey hairs and the motorcycle an extended trip to the mechanic. It served as a valuable reminder how dangerous motorcycles are and how quickly and unexpectedly a beautiful afternoon can turn into a precarious situation.

Then there were other less dangerous but nevertheless time consuming disruptions such as the mornings in the mountains when due to cold temperatures the motorcycle would not start and I had to push it up and down hills trying to start it. Not to forget the three incidences with elevated engine temperature ( 1) stones in radiator ventilator, 2) no cooling water, 3) bent front fender), which theoretically would have burned up the engine but once again I was lucky enough to detect the problem right away.

These are just some of the problems incurred along the way but literally something happened to the motorcycle just about every day on the trip that required some sort of attention. At first this surprised me and I kept waiting for the day were nothing would happen until I started to accept the fact that this was “normal” and was part of the adventure.

The only tools I carried during the journey was a pocket knife and duck tape and was able to resolve all problems that way (speak about being lucky). One time along the way, I came across two English bikers who were carrying with them over 50kg of tools and spare parts. Needless to say many fellow bikers thought I was crazy, first of all for embarking on the trip alone (without any experience of riding motorcycles) and secondly without any tools (for some reason for them the duck tape did not qualify as a tool). But I had learned in Cuba that necessity is the mother of inventions and was able to invent a solution to all problems incurred along the way (at least a temporary one until the next mechanic).

For all the beautiful moments and benefits of traveling with a motorcycle, it is definitely higher maintenance than putting your backpack into the luggage compartment of a bus, reclining your seat and talking a nap while being driven to your destination. But I did not choose this trip looking for a relaxing ride in the back of a bus, I wanted to have an adventure, challenge my self and expand my horizon. Thanks be to Morena (my faithful motorcycle) and all the people and places encountered along the way because that is exactly what I received.