Posts Tagged Uyuni
Posted on July 14, 2011 by jason
The Salar is notoriously cold at night, so we bundled up and hunkered down for the evening. We made lot’s tea and mate to keep warm – mostly just so the stove would keep running and heat the bus. We hung towels around the windows for a little extra insulation and it was definitely not a night to pop the top. We all huddled under 6 blankets and Bode actually complained of being hot in the middle of the night.
The next morning was a bit of a surprise. Snow. Lot’s of it. The thing about snow in a salt flat is that when it touches the salt, it instantly melts – so now we were stuck 100 km from anywhere in the middle of a lake. And, it was cold. Damn cold. Re-defined cold. Wet salty snow-on-a-llama cold.
We spent the morning trying to reason our next move while we made lots and lots of coffee. The water was about 3″ deep. It looked like more snow was eminent, so the safe bet was to drive through the water back the way we came and find shelter in Uyuni.
The weather cleared a bit around 11 and we made a break for it. The salt still felt hard-packed, so we plowed through slow enough not to splash too much of the corrosive saline up under the car. Still, there’s not much you can do.
A few minutes after we started, I made the call to turn around and head due south. This was the way we originally intended to go, and the weather seemed to be improving, so what could go wrong?
Two hours. Two hours in second gear going 10 mph through 3″ of salt water. This was like driving a boat. Steer towards a landmark on the horizon. Try not to get too wet. Go really really slow. Tedious and boring. There’s nothing like not being able to get out of the car to make you really want to get out of the car. Any daydreams I’ve had recently about a sailing adventure (I have) have officially been dashed for now.
It’s amazing just how flat the Salar is. Consistent depth the entire way except for one little high spot a few inches above the water line. I pulled up on it just so I could get out and look in the engine compartment to make sure nothing was soaked with salty stuff. It looked okay, but just then the engine died. Perfect timing. I poked around a bit and discovered that when the tachometer was disconnected from the coil, the engine would start right up. Connect it and it dies.
I had heard stories about the electronics on cars frying out here, so here’s my contribution to the lore. The tach wire runs right under the frame and is exposed the whole way (I wired it), so it’s not too surprising that it found a way to short out in the highly conductive water.
When we finally made it to shore, I found out that it get’s a little deeper – and more importantly – the shore isn’t as hard packed as the rest of the lake. We could see the outline of a raised gravel road on the banks through the snow, so I made break for it. I was eager to get out of the water. Too eager. Bad move.
The shore is a mix of salt, sand, and water. Like a 7-11 Slurpee. We sank immediately. I doubt even 4WD would help us here. I now know the strategy is to stay in the water and drive around until you find something like a dirt boat ramp.
By now, of course, the weather had changed and it was snowing. We tried to dig ourselves out and push for an hour with not much progress. Maybe we moved 1 meter. I was exhausted and the altitude and cold wasn’t helping. Only 9 more to go to get to the edge of the road. Now, I realize we should have tried to push the car back into the water.
The good news was that at least we had made it near a road. We knew we had food, could stay warm, and there was plenty of snow to melt and drink. Everything was fine.
Eventually, a truck came along. A tourist truck – they were bailing on the day and canceling their trip into the Salar. They got out and tried to help push us, but with no luck. Then, another came along – also headed back to Uyuni. Nine people pushing and we could only go a few more meters. We pushed it far enough so that one of the trucks could attach a rope – no way they were driving down off the road to get us.
A few minutes later and there was much celebrating. We handed out all our beers and sodas to the helpful tourists who didn’t’ have much else to do this day, and propinas for the two tour operators for stopping to help. Good times.
We were still in the middle of nowhere, so we just had to keep driving – now through the snow. After an hour or so we drove up on a older local guy sitting by the road with a blanket. He was cold and he said so. He wanted to go back 30 minutes behind us to the village of ‘Colca K,’ so we started paying back our karmic debt immediately and made a U-ey.
Then, back on our trek south. Eventually, we made it out of the snow and onto another flat. A mud flat. Fortunately, it was merely moist and made for some pretty smooth cruising across the existing tracks. Then some washboard. Then sliding around on deep sand. Finally, we made it to the town of San Juan and a graded gravel road. I’ve never been so relieved to hit a gravel road.
Weird Weird day.
And, please excuse the dirt on the lens. We’ll work on it.
Posted on July 13, 2011 by jason
We decided to take off on a Sunday. We do this often and never learn the lesson – nothing is open. In Uyuni, even the gas station is closed. Chris told us some long-winded explanation about how they always run out on Saturday, but it sounded more like a well-recognized excuse to just take Sunday off. Also, if they did have gas, we were guaranteed the ole’ double-charge for foreign plates.
We were also told that the gas station in Colchani *never* had gas and that they were connected to “the mafia” and bootlegged everything to Chile. We drove the 30 km north to Colchani anyway – and bought gas on a Sunday at the local price. We saw no mafia.
Turn west here and you enter the Salar. Everyone we’ve met has told us to avoid this trip on our own. Of course, we had to go.
This time of year, the trip starts with a quick splash through some standing water near the edge. Nothing too bad – 6 cm at most for a few hundred meters. After that, you’re on the white stuff.
After ten minutes on the salt, we stopped to take it in. Here on the periphery, there are salt-workers shoveling it up into piles and then onto trucks. A few salt hotels are available for the curious. We had told Bode that this was one of the few places in the world where you could eat the ground, so he was eager for a taste. Needs pepper.
We drove a bit further out, and although your can go as fast as you want and make your own tracks, you still have to watch out for pozos. The flats are littered with these little holes that are 10 cm across and up to 1 meter deep. They are filled with cold water – and if you dig down, giant salt crystals. We snagged a few for later.
We drove west for at least another hour. Totally flat and white. You have to keep reminding yourself it’s not snow. You can try to follow existing tire tracks or make your own. We had the GPS for help – but our model doesn’t really do anything if there are no roads – still, it’s always good for a compass. We made it to Isla Inca Wasi /Isla Pescado in late afternoon and were really surprised at all the tourists. This really is a huge tourist attraction. Maybe 100 tourists or more and at least 20 vehicles.
We had a seat on a salt bench and had a few Salta’s at a salt table. We helped a few other visitors with their goofy perspective photos of them holding each other in their hands. It was cold and the weather was pretty crappy, so we decided our goofy photos could wait until tomorrow.
By 5 pm or so, the temperature plummeted even further and everyone had left the island except the few folks that run a little snack shack. Angela walked in on them smoking pot and dancing while cleaning the restrooms. They said it was the best way to keep warm. Can’t argue with that – not in Spanish, anyway.
Posted on July 12, 2011 by jason
One thing Uyuni does have is a giant tetanus playground.
Right outside of town is a ‘train cemetery’ with maybe 100 cars and engines of various vintage, slowly rusting away in the desert. According to legend, one of these trains was robbed by Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid shortly before they met their demise south of here. We have no idea which one, but they were all good enough for our reenactments.
Kid, when I say let’s go somewhere like Bolivia, let’s go somewhere like Bolivia
-Butch Cassidy (in the movie)
Posted on July 11, 2011 by jason
The road from Potosi to Uyuni alternates between dirt and pavement and makes a slow 5 hour drive. It’s mostly desert and badlands, with the occasional change from purple to orange to pink thrown in to keep it interesting. The entire route is above 3500 meters, windy, and either hot or cold depending on where you stop to pee.
It was a fairly uneventful drive for us, except for the occasional llama roadblock and loose muffler. Each time we hear that familiar rattling sound at just the right RPM, we know the muffler has come loose. Actually, each time we hear it we forget what it was the last time and proceed to check the wheels, gear in the cabinets, etc until one of us says “oh yeah, it’s the damn muffler!” Those little asbestos/steel o-rings that connect the muffler to the heat exchangers have failed continuously over the course of the trip. Too much bouncing around, I guess. Oddly, they are one of the parts that are difficult to find.
It was getting late in the afternoon when we came upon B and Bez. B was celebrating her 70th birthday with a two-month cycle trip through The Andes. Her friend Bez just turned 50 and was the default guide.
They had left Potosi three days prior and had been bush camping in the cold desert each night. This was supposed to be the night they arrived in Uyuni, but they still had a pass to climb and were absolutely exhausted. They had made it to the small town of Pacayo, but were ready to be done. Of course, there’s always room in the bus.
With the extra passengers and gear, I was a little worried about our ability to handle a 4200 meter pass, but we cruised up and over with no problems. Below was a trash-strewn desert and a perfect white salar in the distance. We coasted down to Uyuni. It’s a poor excuse of town – they don’t even have tumbleweeds.
Actually, because of The Salar, there are a few tourist-oriented hostals and tour operators here. Because it’s the middle of nowhere, everything is over-priced (for Bolivia). Still, we settled in to a cold room for the night. There’s a gringo here (Chris from Boston) who married a local and now has a thriving restaurant for us tourists (ingredients imported from “more than 5″ countries). We settled in next to a fire and celebrated our chance encounter with B and Bez with copious amounts of pizza, beer and chocolate cake.
Bez had a Splittie that he still regrets selling, and he even worked for VW. It also turned out that he had already ridden his bike around the world. We had plenty to talk about.
In the kind of planning we can appreciate, he thought his trip would take two years. It ended up taking six. Imagine riding your bike around the world for 6 years of your life. He’s now a guide in New Zealand, and that’s where he and B became friends. She hasn’t been cycling long, but decided this was a good way to celebrate the big 7-0. She celebrated her 60th with a month-long trek around Nepal – her first trek.
Sometimes the most interesting people are in the middle of nowhere.
