I found myself once more plunging into an unknown....
Two months after returning from Kurdish Iraq where I had been for over a year
I had to uproot myself yet again and head north 250 miles to the Coastal city
of Iquique, Chile. I had been there before once many years previously in 2012
arriving with a South African girl I had met at the institute. That time I had only been in
Chile little over a month and everything was new and my Spanish was non-existent.
Now it was very distinct......I had my wife in Antofagasta as well as my various projects.
Of course me being me I can´t stand not having my vehicles with me. I sent my beloved
bicycle ahead of me and it arrived simulataneoulsy with me. I began to explore the
luxuriant coastline of the city with its pristine beaches and myriad tourists and the
quaint downtown with its impressive array of nineteeth century architecture.
For now I was renting a cheap room in a shared upper floor of a houes belonging to an older chilean couple....In my mind it was the ¨closet¨¨ and the indignity of sharing a common space
with anybody made me sick to my stomach...¨¨just for a while¨¨ I said to myself.
I started my new job and all was going well. But I needed my bike with me....My Honda VFR and the question was how to get it here...¨¨I´ll ride it¨¨ I thought. So one weekend I rode the bus back to antofa. I strapped my safety belt as the bus clung tenaciously to the coastal route
with pulse quickening dead drops straight to the sea directly below. The sun
set in the distance and the raw jaged edge of the northern chilean coastline stunning in its
austerity and natural beauty. I was going to see my Diosa again..........my Eileen .........
and of course to get my motorcycle and not have to ride up the absurdly steep hills of
Iquique.......I had been riding my bicycle to work some two miles and the initial leg of the trip
going up a challenging hill that made my heart feel like it was going to explode....
Fuck that I thought.............
So in Antofa I installed the new wheel bearings on the bike and re-installed the wheel
in my subtereanean parking lot. I woke up early sunday and got the bike and headed to
where we had been living in northern antofa.....The first floor of an older home
which now had three apartments above filled with Colombians....and their music
and loud vibrant and often obnoxious form of vivir....
I said my goodbyes to Eileen and headed out on the vfr....I made my way out of the city up through the mountains which mark the eastern edge of the city with shanty towns periously
cling to the mountain edges....The road was smooth and the bike was running great...it would be great I thought.....
As I progressed further northwest then north I started to sense the wind growing in its fury..the road changed as I traversed the high desert plains or La Pampa as the Chileans call it.
In the nineteenth and through the mid twentieth century various settlements once existed here to get the nitrate out of the ground.....in some places the vestiges of their distant harsh lives soldier on despite the harrowing climate of intense heat, cold, wind and sun. Their lives must have been awful I thought to myself....Now the road was raised above the ground
and the desert wind began to punish me with a harrowing intensity....the wafer thin
seat began to numb my body....and I had to slow down fighting the wind, gripping the grips with a vice-grip like intensity...I was holding on for dear life now....as huge trucks passed by at high speed nearly blowing me off the road with their wall of air.........and I had miles to go..........
I stopped for gas in a tiny hamlet called maria elena and the attendant seemed disinterested when I asked him how far the next gas station was....he exaggerated the distance....Would I make it?
I soldiered on attempting to accelerate out of the wind strikes plummeting me from all sides...
Then the landscape altered some.....rows of trees appeared ...replacing the constinuous abyss of nothingness I had been seeing for hundreds of kilometers....distant horizons totally absent of life, nothing.....a martian landscape with that damn howling wind.....I started to think is it me? Am I just rusty at riding my bike? Had I lost my nerve? I pulled over at a small stop
and noticed the wind was still insane....it wasn´t me....the wind was violent....
I had to soldier on....fortes fortuna adiuvat I repeated in my mind.....fortune favors the brave....
it was a motto I had lived by for years.....and it had served me...until now.....
to venture forth, challenging the world and yourself finding those limits, smashing them
The trees were a wlecome change in my periphery now...and I had to make it to pozo almonte
21 km away.....the wind had diminshed significantly..........I sped up...all was right with the world now....I could arrive into iquique as the sun began to set,....it would be glorious!!!
nope........as I sped along at 70 mph or so I instantly felt the engine began to die.....the lifeblood of gasoline was rapidily dimishing....and gone..................
now by the side of the road....two-lane leather jacket on and a full backpack I started to push
I tried to recall how my arab friend mujtaba always said humdilelah even when things went wrong....Humdilelah I repeated to myself pushing the bike long the side of the road as massive trucks whooshed past me nealry blowing me off the road to an ignominious end.....
The sweat began to bead up in the visor of my helmet now and fall in cascades on the gas tank
and I sensed some sense of defeat in my mind but refused to heed it....it´s all good...everythings good I repeated.....I prayed that God would help me get to Iquique...my new gem of a city on the pacific....to lead a better life....to see eileen happy...
An older ford pickup stuffed with cardboard boxes in its bed stopped and began to reverse towwards me now....were they going to help me????
The chilean man got out and I asked him if he had any gasoline.....
we tried to pull the bike with his truck but it was too dangerous..........
He told me he´d go into town , get gas and return ....he took off and I felt hopeful
I told eileen what happened then she said keep going....
I pushed on slight uphill thankfully the bike is lightweight....but my arms were getting tired now
and I could feel the sweat dribbling down my back...
I kept on...fortes fortuna adiuvat...fortes fortuna adiuvat....
and the man returned!!!
with a gorgoeous full container of gasoline....q rico....
I filled the tank and offered hime $10,000 pesos which he declined.....
I thanked him for saving me....¨¨me salvaste !!¨¨ I told him
I started the bike and it roared back to life and made my way to pozo almonte....close now
I rode on as darkness fell and realized I had never rode the bike at night....
the healdights werent properly aimed and it made it hard to see as I soldiered on nearing the ocean....at alto hospicio the raod verged to the right willowing its way down to the city....
it was lit up and looked like paradise to me now.....the shoreline defined by the myriad twinkling lights finally getting into the city....my spirits soared now as the race exhaust reverberated against bridges and the old buidlings downtown....I knew where to turn and rode up the hill to rancagua street....I made it....and to celebrate had to smoke a lucky click...I pulled out a wooden lawn chair from the patio of the house I was staying at....I wiped off the road grime from the bike and admired its lines.....I made it....alive......fortes fortuna adiuvat and yes Humdilelah (thank god).