Uyuni is home to the biggest Salt Desert in the world extending across 10,582 sq kms. It is also the world's biggest reserve of Lithium, which in the modern world of mobile phones and laptops is quite something. The president has renounced foreign corporations the right to extract lithium from the salt flats. This means that he is sitting on his hands wondering what to do with it. One has to realise that Bolivia has truly been pillaged. There were huge deposits of silver here, which the Spanish simply stripped and in recent times there have been large land losses (natural resources) to Brazil, Chile and Paraguay because the Bolivians were too poor to win the war even if they fought. Suspicion of foreigners extends to the gringos and while Bolivians are really friendly and very humorous one does hear comments such as 'this gringo isn't so bad' etc. Thus, the more you know about the people and the culture the better your time will be here as you are a lot more sensitive to their beliefs and frustrations.
From the gringo's perspective the Salar de Uyuni is just a crazy piece of geography. The town of Uyuni is full of tourists embarking and disembarking on their 4-day jeep tours across the salt desert and coloured lagoons. It was a bit of a shock seeing all the gringos again having cycled through a lot of isolation to get there but it was great to hook up with the Dutch crew. Matt from California would end up taking a jeep tour but Wychert was already there waiting for the two Tom's to arrive. Their plan was always to cycle across the salt flats and they were very generous to invite me along for the ride. Every now and again when travelling on my own I meet great people who seem happy to take me under their wing. The Dutch were not only cool but all three spoke perfect English such that conversation with me never seemed like an effort.
There was a little apprehension in terms of undertaking a bike ride across the desert as a lot of reports suggest it to be very difficult to navigate. In addition the ride off the Salt was not going to be an easy one and while it's fun to go on an expedition one does not want to make life overly difficult for oneself. In the end it was a real bonus to have met the Dutch guys because alone I would have just accepted that the ride solo across the desert would be too dangerous. With their impetus we managed to do enough research to suggest that it wouldn't be a problem at all. Thus, we stocked up with enough provisions for three days with a reasonably good understanding of what lay ahead but still with a little apprehension as to what the salt would be like. The plan was to bike 80k west from Colchani to the Isla Incahuasi in the centre of the Salt and then bike north to the Volcano to exit the salt. During the rainy season the salt is a lake resembling a mirror. It is an amazing sight but the water would make camping on it impossible. During the dry season there is a sheer white sheen much like snow contrasted with intense blue skies. Naturally dry salt is a lot easier going on bikes and would enable us to camp. Thus, after the bumpy ride to Colchani we rode onto the salt. It is a busy enough place with all the gringos in their Jeeps. In the end it was a cinch to navigate because there are mountain-peaks all around and so you just aim between peaks using jeep tracks as confirmation. I was expecting us to have to navigate a blind horizon but this wasn't the case at all and if we ever got stuck then we just had to head north to the Volcano which is always visible. As we were four the cycling was a lot more sociable than is usual for me. In such situations the tendency is to have a lot of breaks for chats and so we failed to get to the island on the first day although we pulled up only 6k short with it well in sight. This was a blessing as it allowed us to camp in the middle of the flats without any obstruction to the views. There was a worry about drunken Jeep drivers crossing the desert at night and driving straight over our tents with us inside but there was no need for us to worry at all. It is a pretty crazy and fun thing to camp on the salt but Bolivia is just this crazy and fun country, so it was in keeping with the experience. Having said that it was bloody freezing. I'm not sure how low it dropped but minus mid-teens would be about right; the white salt reflects the sun and so only the rays of the sun itself can provide warmth. It is only when camping at altitude when the temperatures drop that one appreciates how the Incas worshipped the sun. Lying in the tent waiting for the sun to rise so as to warm us up taught me a lot about the Pachamama (mother earth) and how the Incas saw the sun as being the source of all life. It is what gives us and the land the energy and light to live and grow.
Day two to the volcano was a fun affair as we had plenty of time to make breakfast at the island and talk to the care-taker who keeps a book of memories only for cyclists who ride across the desert. Apparently only cyclists are allowed to camp at the island. We chilled out enjoying the views of crazy cacti which is obviously a bizarre sight in the middle of a salt desert. We then rode the 40k north to the Volcano stopping to practice the art of perspective (see photos). It is a really fun place to ride as there are few places in the world where you can freely steer your bike in any direction at any time without fear of incident. We stopped in a tiny farming village just off the salt for almuerzo (lunch) before getting back on the flats to take the Eastern route around the mountain so that we wouldn't have to ride up a big hill. While salt is not good for the mechanics of a bike a bigger problem in this part of the world is the sand. Anybody with a motorbike knows how annoying sand is to ride through. One doesn't have enough power on a loaded bike to churn through the sand with the weight bogging it down. Control goes out the window and so you inevitably dismount and have to push using all your strength. We did this for about an hour before calling it quits. We were still in view of the volcano and the flats and so it made for a nice camp. I havn't been one for the one-pot wonders on the camp-stove until now preferring to stop in towns and eat there but in the middle of nowhere one has no choice and with temperatures dropping as fast as the sun it makes sense to cook some warm food. It was great having the Dutch guys for company as camping on one's own is not that much fun. Still it wasn't about beers and sing-songs around the camp-fire as it was too cold to be out of a sleeping bag once the sun dropped. Twelve hours in a tent is long time but the cycling was so exhausting that it was normally nine by the time I crashed out to the world of dreams. The only affect the altitude was having on me was my dreams. They were more crazy than normal in a bad bizarre kind of way. Thus, nights were restless as I shut down one bad dream after another with semi-consciousness.
Packing up our camp we had about another hour of hard riding through sand before we got onto somewhat better terrain. However, we were delayed when witnessing some Bolivian craziness. Two cars came from behind one dovetailing right, the other left at a fork. There wasn't really a road to the left and this car was flying. We stopped to comment on how he had almost lost control of the car before Wychert noticed the cloud of dust to suggest that he had. We pedalled on to the scene to see a rolled over people-carrier facing the wrong direction. We couldn't believe it ... he had managed to roll the car. Now there was one written-off car and seven people outside of it who had somehow managed to escape through the sun-roof or back window. A quick whiff for the smell of gasoline and we set about trying to help whatever way we could. Tom tried to ring for an ambulance only for no-one to pick up the emergency line. He finally succeeded. The rest of us tried to help but in fact there wasn't much we could do. The four kids were a little bloody and were wailing from the trauma but they were all mobile. The driver was fine with only a bump on his head. The mother was okay too. It was just the father who had blood all over his face. I have some first-aid knowledge but I have never had to use it. Thankfully a lot of it is common sense and so you just work through the pieces. He was conscious and although he was trying to faint due to the sight of blood he was okay. The screaming kids were keeping him conscious and it was just his mouth and leg that were the problem. He looked worse than he was and so thankfully we just had to sit it out without too much drama until the very dodgy ambulance came. They carted the family to the local clinic and left the driver there. He made us overturn his car so that he could drive it again. We had turned our backs and suddenly we heard the car radio come on. It was a bit comical but he was trying to start the engine. He had no concept of how the ignition might spark danger. He was convinced he could drive it back home. We convinced him otherwise. Anyway, we had to leave him be promising to find his wife in the town so that he could be collected. It was only amazing that nobody was seriously injured. It was a Toyota but these cars are all altered to make them more affordable. There were no air-bags and you can be sure that they were not wearing seat-belts. What happens next I have no idea. For sure all the bottles of beer lying around suggest he was drunk at the wheel. He managed to put a whole family in hospital and had written off his car which I guess the bank owned. Coming from a tiny town I am pretty sure he will be in for a hard time.
The road from Salinas was good fun with lots of unopened sections of asphalt and a meteor crater along the way; not exactly something one sees every day. We would eventually join the main road to La Paz and with a fair amount of time-trialing we would make it to the industrial town of Oruro after a couple of days on asphalt. It had been a brilliant week of expedition riding. The biking was hard-going but the great company made it all very easy. Meeting the Dutch was definitely a blessing for me and only for the fact that they had all explored Bolivia the month before with their girlfriends did I let them go to back-track by bus to other parts of Bolivia to experience some of the touristy stuff. I have only two days more biking to La Paz and from there Cuzco lies another 700k away. It would be great to meet them up the road but I was very fortunate to bump into them at all. I met Tom in Mendoza before I had even set foot on a pedal in South America and it was by a bizarre turn events that I bumped into him again at all.
Much obliged to Pachamama for providing us with such an unbelievable week of cycling.
A comprehensive batch of pics from the week are posted in the gallery.
Chat soon
Marco
Uyuni
Train Cemetary
Salar de Uyuni
riding to the setting sun
the dude
Volcano Co. Tunupa (5400ms)
meteor crater - now cultivated for quinoa
the dudes (Wychert, Tom, Tom & his dudeness) on the knack in Pazna by the main road to La Paz