Another epic along 'The Butterfly Road'

No man's land

We new we were in for a long haul throughout some desolate gravel roads for this next section of the Journey from southern Bolivia to Paraguay, but we decided to go for it anyway. Some people had told us that the road was too sandy and that there was too much water, but we have generally found out that most people are just over-cautious and unless they've actually traveled that route in the last couple days, they don't really know. So, we stocked up on food and water supplies and hit the road, estimating it would take about 3 or 4 days to cover the roughly 500-600 km. stretch.

This is pure country now, largely uninhabited with very little traffic moving throughout the bleak landscape. The only people we come across are peasant farmers who try their hardest to eke out a meager living from livestock farming of cattle, goats, sheep and llamas or alpacas. We are still quite high, riding at an average of 9,000 ft. above sea level, but will soon start to descend into the dry 'chaco' (prairie land) of Southern Bolivia situated at a lower (and warmer) 1,000 ft.

Killer curves

Day One (148 kms)

The first day goes well - no rain and nice long stretches of smoothly packed, dustless earth. We ride until dark, set-up camp on a flat, grassy ledge next to a river and make a nice campfire dinner of boiled potatoes with butter & dill, stir-fried veggies in a honey/garlic/soya sauce and garlic bread....yes, we are true gourmet camping chefs!

Day Two (183 kms)

When we wake up, we notice that we are now surrounded by green hills and jungle vegetation. We crawl out of the tent and for the first time in nearly two months, can waltz around in shorts and a T-shirt without feeling cold. Our camping spot is tranquil and private, so we enjoy a nice yoga practice in the warm morning sun before departing.

We can feel the warmth penetrate our clothing as we descend in elevation. The road is twisty and now more dusty, but the surrounding landscape reminds us of the tropical denseness of Central America. The variety of vegetation is stunning; vines twisted around branches, branches tangled around trees, trees wrapped around enormous dead trunks. We are virtually all alone today, save for the couple of small towns we pass through, we see almost nobody along the road. We camp underneath the roof of a small school. A perfect spot for us - a sink to do dishes, a (cold) shower to bathe and shelter from the rain.

Jungle highway

Day Three (199 kms)

We have never in our lives seen so many butterflies! Millions upon millions of black, white, orange and yellow winged creatures criss-cross the path in front of us, flouncing around with bewildering speed and agility. On the stretch of pavement, we ride with our visors down to keep from getting splattered in the face. Back on the gravel in mid-afternoon, the road starts to get ugly - still flat, but riddled with rocks and patches of thick sand. Suddenly my bike starts fishtailing, a telltale sign of an unwanted and unexpected situation. FLAT TIRE!! We immediately choose a spot to camp on a rock shelf beside the road, and start taking off Lucky's back tire. Luckily, a cattle rancher named Fidel comes along and offers to take me the 20 or so kilometers into the next town to get my tube patched. The patch job goes well, but by the time I get back to camp it's already dark. While I was gone, Christina made a nice campfire and set up camp. We cook a quick pasta dinner and wolf it down inside the tent as the rain comes pouring down.

Day Four: (an eventful 40 kms!)

Our day starts early after a restless sleep throughout the hard, pounding rain. We stayed dry inside but woke up to a huge splattering mess of mud caked onto the sides of the tent. The rain finally lets up and we tear down camp - not a fun job when everything is wet and dirty. We put Lucky's back tire on without any problems and head off, following another motorcyclist who stopped to have a chat with us. The road is muddy, rutted and narrow...and soon gets worse. Christina drops Lucinda in a slippery section of muck and breaks her only surviving mirror, and I drop Lucky soon after in the same mucky squishy crap. We are both covered and drenched in mud.

One of hundreds

The smile of success

Anyone wanna come...?

Then, like the first time it happened in the Andes of Peru, my gearshift lever broke away from the teeth to which it was clamped. This is seriously bad news. We have no idea where the next town is, we have very little food left and not much fresh water. I try and tighten the bolt onto the teeth again but the bolt BREAKS. Now we're fucked.

We sit down in the mud on the road.

"I knew we shouldn't have gone this way," says Christina. "Why don't we ever listen to these people Todd? Why do we always have to take these roads that we know nothing about and that people have warned us not to take!"

I look at her but say nothing, knowing that we should have taken a different route. Stubbornness is sometimes a very bad sickness.

"I guess we'll just have to wait for someone to come along," I say. "Hopefully a farm truck will come by and we'll ask him to take us as far as he can. My bike is screwed, we can't even go any further. AND, my clutch is now burned out from trying to muscle through the mud. But at least we have each other," I say, hoping to crack a smile through the armor of anger.

"Okay, but let's at least clean this mud off our bikes...it's so thick our tires can't even move."

We get to work, pouring bottle after bottle of muddy water into the nooks and crannies of Lucky & Lucinda, and cleaning the mud off with sticks. By now, the clouds are getting darker and the shadows longer. Seven hours and only forty kilometers! We decide to set-up camp.

Noooo... not here!

Getting un-stuck

Moments later, a jeep comes towards us in the distance, revving its engine to get through the mud. They stop about a hundred yards away, get out and walk towards us. Two brothers and their sister, along with their mom, dad and aunt talk to us for a while. We explain our situation but they can't really help. The jeep is simply too small. Oh well...we wish them luck and they drive past us, skirting away from the mud through the bushes on the side of the road. Ten minutes later, one of the boys comes running back. They're stuck and need help pushing.

When we get there we see that the jeep, a rusted, door-less 1958 LandRover, is stuck to the axles in mud. Pushing ain't gonna work, but at least he has a winch. But a winch without any trees to hook it up to doesn't really work.

Ingeniously, the dad starts digging a t-shaped hole in the road, about 30-feet straight ahead of the jeep. Once the hole is about 3-feet deep, he wraps the chain around a small log, throws the log into the hole and buries the log. I start cranking the winch by hand while he revs the engine. Slowly the jeep starts to creep its way out, and only a few minutes later it's high and dry.

"Thanks for your help,'" he says smiling "Good luck. There should be some trucks coming through here soon. As long as it doesn't rain, they pass through here."

We look at each other, look at the black rain clouds looming overtop of us, and smile back at him.

Then, he has an idea.

"We can pull your bike with the jeep to our house...its' only seven kilometers from here. Tomorrow we can find a way to fix the bike and then you can continue your trip."

"Sounds good," we agree. "Give us a couple minutes to pack our things."

Getting ready for the tow

The brothers eagerly helped carry our gear and load it into the jeep, then came back to help me push Lucky through the mud.

We tied a rope around my steering column and were ready to go.

"I'll go slowly...no problem," says Alexandro. "I have no brakes..but I'll go slow."

'aaaah great...no brakes, no problem!'

Some of the puddles were so huge that we had to unhook my bike while he sped, sputtered and hammered his way though. The boys would grab the rope and pull me like oxen pulling a cart, while Christina bravely maneuvered her way straight though the whole mess. Finally an hour later we pulled into their yard - starving, stinky, dirty and soaking wet. We cooked some instant noodle soup, had a cold bucket shower and fell asleep hard in two separate single beds, hoping for some better luck tomorrow.

Day Five (85 kms)

Today is a complete test of physical strength and mental determination along perhaps our most challenging stretch of road to date. After some repairs to Lucky's broken gear shifter and a nice family lunch around the table eating peanut soup, a tearful goodbye sets us on our way. During the first sections, we skirt around the huge sections of mud-filled ruts by weaving our way through the thorny bushes beside the road. We gain some speed and distance on the hard-packed sections, only to slow down to dodge the hundreds of cows who stare blankly at us as we approach. We now come upon another stretch of hundreds of 'charcos', long expanses of road completely filled with muddy water. There is no way of knowing the depth and no way around. The only option is to rev up the engine, muster up some courage and motor straight through, our legs hanging out the sides like outriggers on a canoe trying to keep upright.

We get completely bone-soaked and covered in mud, but the bikes champion their way though - every single time. The Andes was tough, but all gravel. This road is soft, slippery and muddy...and much, much tougher. We drop the bikes a total of nine times (4 in the mud and 5 in the heavy sand), but somehow manage to keep going.

Food, civilization and help is only a few more clicks ahead we have been told - so we push on. Finally, after 85 kilometers in almost seven hours of hell, we cross the border into Paraguay.

Romance in riding

I need a shower!

Beyond our wildest dreams, we are instantly handed two of the coldest, best-tasting beers of the Journey by a group of guys at the end of a hunting trip. They are staying at the military outpost, all 12 of them, and are in full-on party mode. They are amazed at the sight of two lonely souls who made it through what they called a 'nightmare route', and begin with the usual barrage of questions. They share a deer-meat stew with rice and potatoes, and keep our thirst well quenched with ice-cold cervezas. One of them breaks out the guitar, and we finish off the night (if you can believe this!), by dancing the Paraguayan polka to loud cheers and applause!!! Incredible...what a day!

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