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By Ron Grant
We again made a refueling stop at
Punta Priesta along with the accompaniment of barking dogs and enthusiastic
natives. who we. unfortunately. could
not understand•. We had. however, the
feeling that they were trying to tell us
that they could not understand. for the
life of them what we were doing at that
time of night in Punta Priesta. shaken,
dirty, visibly tired and in a great hurry
to continue. They kept pointing our way
and saying "Que Loco· which we later
learned was not exactly a compliment.
However, on the whole they were very
friendly.
Another 100 miles of the same rocky.
twisted and dangerous road took us to
El Areo. Durihg these 100 miles we had
to cross three wIde washes which were
full of muddy water; at this point, Bob,
tired as he was, siipped and sat right in
the middle of one of these washes. Our
spirits were still so high that even these
could not bug us. We passed through El
Arco at about 2:00 a.In. on Wednesday
the 12th and after about 30 miles. the
road became so bad that our speed was
down to 5 or 6 miles per hour. Rocks,
pot holes gravel and deep sand made it
practically impossible to get out of
second gear, and we had to go over a
high mountain range overcoming grades
of 20%. At this point we - repeatedly
stopped to check our maps and compasses because we were certain that we
were lost; we simply refused to believe
that we were on the right road on account
of the impossible trail and the desolation
all around us, In pitch darkness we
stopped, switched off the engines and
listened for a familiar sound or maybe a
far away light; but there was nothing all
around us.
Disheartened and positive we were
lost we continued vaguely in a southeasterly direction and started climbing
up a torturous, rocky. and very steep
trail. When we reached the summit we
stopped again, but could still see or hear
nothing. Here we stopped and since it
would soon be dawn, we decided to wait
for daylight so that we could find our
bearings. After 15 or 20 minutes we
heard noises coming from the valley in
front of us and by straining our ears we
clearly distinguished the clucking of
chickens then suddenly there it was
right in front of us at the pottom of the
hill-a large settlement. It had to be San
Ignacio. Relieved and grateful for our
luck we thundered down the slope into
town. Here we stopped for gas and we
were so tired,dirty and hungry, that even
the remaining Vienna Sausages did little
to boost our morale. By this time, neither
Bob nor myself felt like talking any
more. It took us rather a long time to refuel and as soon as this was done, we
Just gritted our teeth and pushed on. We
realized that this was the critical point
of our journey and that only a 'now or
never spirit' would take us on to La
Paz. It was lucky we did not know what
was ,ahead of us farther down the road;
because if we had. neither Bob nor myself would have had the courage to
continue.
,
We left st. Ignacio at 8:45 a.m. and
soon after, the road became smoother
and for a while we thought that our
troubles were over. One-half way between St. Ignacin and san ta Rosalia. the
road suddenly started climbing again
over rocky hills and our speed was again
down to 8 or 10 miles per hour. About 10
or 12 miles before Santa Rosalia. Bob's
chain broke. wrapped itself around the
engine sprocket. locked the engine and
he headed straight for a clump of thorn
bushes. It was soon obvious that to replace the chain would take some time.
so we decided to split up. After helping
Bob to recover his motorcycle from the
bushes and a 'see you in La Paz.Mate·.
I went on alone. I later learned that soon
after replacing the cbain. Bob had a flat
in the rear tire and since I had the repair
kit with me. he had to wheel his mo~or
cycle for about 6 miles over a high
mountain range into Santa Rosalia to get
it fixed up. By now. I was making very
good time and was only about 40 minutes
behind schedule. I went full bore down
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the road from Santa Rosalia. through
Mulege. toward Canipole. which is just
south of the. Bahia de la Concepcion.
Shortly after leaving Canipole. at 4:20
p.m. the road became absolutely impossible. I was. by now. so tired. stiff and
exhausted that I just felt like laying
down on the road to die. The road at
this point. was not more than a narrow
trail and it took me 5 hours and 40 minutes to cover 38 miles. This distance
was covered by pushing. pulling and
kicking the motorcycle UP grades of 20%
and down narrow. twisting and rocky
traiis. backed with sounds of thunder
and flashes of lightning. This was the
spookiest 'part of the journey and if I had
not been so tired and numb. I am sure
that I would have been very scared.
At last I reach ed Comondu at 10:10
p.m. where after a 20 minute stop for
refueling, I left again heading south toward beUer roads and La Paz. After approximately 25 miles, I reached Pozo
Grande and from this point on the road
became good and quite fast. I was thankful for a real road and although it was
dark, I felt there was little risk in proceeding at full speed since the road is
dead straight. I was badly in need of
sleep, food and drink. but in view of the
good gravel road ahead. I pushed on.
What I did not kno w. at this point. was
that occasionally the road was crossed
by gravel-filled washes which would
have made it rather tricky to cross them
at run speed in dayllght. let alone at
night. I wen t head long into three or four
of these aDd got out with lltUe difficulty,
