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riding the chilean coastline

what an amazing day, 240km riding along the chilean coast, not on a road along the chilean coast, but actually on the beach, and where the cliffs intervened, along small tracks linking the beaches.

it’s been a long time since we saw any deep sand, and so the day started a little tentatively, which on the 950 means certain doom, or in this case getting bogged because i was too soft on the exit from the beach.

 

 

remove spare tyre, panniers, get barton to push and out we came, sand flying in all directions.

so it was 15psi out of the rear tyre and a good dose of harden-the-fuck-up and we set off again.  the day was an endless series of tracks, some deep sand, some rocky sections, some good going and lots of white sandy beach to fly along in between.

we stopped on a rocky outcrop, boiled some water and drank some coffee and took it all in…

 

 

“suckers in the office back in houston!! i wonder what they’re doing today?!!” from barton who was beaming.

“god this thing is awesome to ride in the sand”  he yelled an hour later

closely followed by

“i cant believe i flipped my bike!”

 

 

as i pulled up the 570 was actually standing upside down on it’s seat and handlebars, barton was trying to clear the sand from inside his helmet and moaning about his neck and the soft sand

“ok no more 5th gear in the sand then…”

“no no dont roll it over yet, i wanna picture!!!” i yelled but it was too late 🙁

“what happened?”  laughter!!

“well it just kinda grabbed the front and went left then right then it buried the tyre and over we went!”

more laughter…

“are you ok?”

“yeah i’m fine, cant believe i flipped the bike though…”  coughing and spitting sand…

he actually had sand in his nose 🙂

as we pulled up at Bahia Inglesa, (a little tourist town), the local hotel was getting into a party for labour day, EVERYONE there was beyond drunk…

they thrust beers in our hands, and passed us some food from the bbq.

“hmmmm how old are you?”  asked one of the chilean women…

“um, 37…”

“ohhhhh that’s great, i’m only 39” it had to be a lie, then she leaned in for a closer look…

“ok that’s enough… hey barton, can we please go now.  NOW!!!”

we left amongst continual questions of “my sister is young, do you think she is beautiful?”

“um yes very pretty, but i am married…”

“where is your ring?”

“i cant wear one because of the gloves”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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