Sam Gamgee is away!

Under a cloudless blue sky I drove the 40 minutes from Canuelas to Ezieze airport to ship the bike this morning. It takes a good bit longer than say for example to ship it from the UK to Canada, or from Panama to Colombia but all the steps are straight forward they just take a bit of time to complete.

Once you've the paper work done you roll the bike up onto a pallet and the guys tie it down with metal straps and then shrink wrap it, i should get it back on the 27th of December. The pallet didn't look like it was up to the job but I'm sure it'll be fine.

And now i'm off out into Buenos Aires to have a steak freshly torn off a bulls arse.....
Take care and wish me luck with the weather in London, was supposed to be chaos today with the snow and ice....

Theres just 55 more road miles to do on this trip, namely to ride the bike home from the airport when I collect the bike in Dublin.

From there I'll start getting ready to take on Dublin to New york... going through Wales, England, France, Belgium, Holland, Germany, Czech republic, Slovakia, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Russia, Mongolia, finishing in Magadan. From there I'll scoot to Alaska and drive to new york...hoping to finish no later than september 2010.....


Take care...
Oisin

Nut

Well I bit the bullet this afternoon and went to see about my left 'un. If your coming to this part cold, when I hit the FFP Goat I reckon I might have done some damage to it along with other bits and pieces.

One of the lads mentioned torsion. First of all, never look up ball bag issues on the web, you'll be scared to within an inch of your life.

Anyway the pain while not getting worse wasn't getting better and I was worried I'd a twist (which is what Torsion is)...so I found out where the Doc's was, had a shower and put on a fresh set of cacks and headed off just before dinner time.

Think about it for a second... you've pigeon spanish, and an issue down town with a delicate area... and you've got to try and explain it.....

Anyway I walked in the door of the surgery and they had a nurse standing there at a desk who was taking details after which you went to see the doctor. She gave me a form to fill in with all your personal details...and asked what's wrong... I pointed down town and inhaled sharply through my teeth while frowning... she blushed..and told me to take a seat......

In these situations I always ask myself...do you want a dude doctor...or a dudette doctor?
Like most guys the mere thought of a guy touching the crown jewels is enough to ruin my next 5000 hard on's so on one hand was hoping it would be a woman.....and that's who it turned out to be....a woman... with a real right hander of a backside.

Her name was sabrina sorhobigarat ..... this girl my guess is desperate to get married to lose that second name...jeez what a moniker

back to the tale...whats a right hander of a backside?.... a right hander backside is a womans arse where as soon as you see it all you want to do is smack it hard with an open right hand....followed by the words "Get up the yard outta that!"

I managed to restrain myself...and thankfully she spoke ok english so I explained to her what happened..... Our first awkward moment was when she said your left or my left?.... I roared laughing and couldn't stop for about ten minutes...which ruined any chance of the whole thing passing off in a professional manner....

Its my left one...on my left...your right I explained.....

She told me to hold the big fella out of the way while she did a quick exam.... of course shes a doctor and knows what shes doing but holy fuck you'd think they were conkers I had and not precision instruments. She checked the good un first.....and then gingerly checked the bad un..... at which point she said If i'd torsion she thought I'd be a lot sorer.....

i explained that i was very tough....and "ard"...and a normal mortal would be writhing in pain on the ground to which she started a restrained laugh.... in the end she gave me ibuprofen for the swelling (on the nut) and told me to wear supportive underwear, and to avoid any sexual activity ..... no fucking problem there darling I said to myself.

Anyway...its alive and well....

Over and out
The big fella

Canuelas,40 mins south of Buenos Aires

Last big miles day today, and I finished up in the town of Canuelas about 40 minutes south of Buenos Aires. This is as good a place as any to hang out so I can bring the bike to the airport about 20 minutes up the road and ship it back to Ireland in the morning.

It pissed rain all day, which kind of gave the trip a bit of symmetry for me, when I started 135days ago in Calgary it was pissing rain for the first few days as well. An Argentinian described Canuelas as the least touristy town in Argentina, and I couldn't have put it better. Its boring, and theres fuck all to do, but its easier to hang out here than have to go in and out of Buenos Aires while shipping the bike.

I headed out this morning for a wander round, absolutely zero going on with nothing open. I found a place for breakfast and thought I ordered and omelette instead she came back with raw thinly sliced ham with Olives.... who the fuck eats olives at 10am in the morning? I gave a thin "Gracias" in reply ..... Man a bowl of Fruit and Fibre cereal would be so good right now! :-)

So plan for the next 3 days...
Tomorrow ship the bike...
The following day Fly to Ireland.... (weather and strikes permitting)
The following day arrive and hit the laurels pub for around 8:30 for some average quality Carlsberg.

Take it handy
Oisin

The best video clips I took on the trip....

A pain in me Gee on the Ruta 3

I woke up this morning after my little incident with the goat feeling like I'd been hit by a train. Incidentally the goat was fine, or at least he was limping around the place after it but didn't look like he was in too bad shape. I think goats have been known to survive large falls in mountains, they're quite hardy. Certainly I think hes doing better than me.

The list of things that were sore this morning included....both ankles, both knees, both hips, my left nut, my ass, lower back, both shoulders, and both wrists.....I was driving along trying to figure out how the hell my left un got so "hurt" and I think it might have bee squished when I jammed on the breaks..... but enough wingeing! :-)

There's lots of Gaucho Gill shrines knocking around this part of the world, if you want to know more, have a click on the link below.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gauchito_Gil

I'm down to less than thousand kilometers left on this leg and my jesus its a boring bastard. To put it in perspective from Rio Gallegos where I got on the Ruta 3, to Buenos Aires, is about the same distance as it is from Dublin Ireland to Moscow Russia. The only reason I'm driving this way at all is because of British airways, I'd planned to come up the center of Argentina but with all this strike Malarkey I need to get to Buenos Aires quickly in case I need to catch an earlier flight....fingers crossed I get out.

There really isn't any highlights from today, the best thing that happened all day was the gaucho gill shrine and a field full of sunflowers...and when you consider I drove over 500 miles today that's a poor return, my advice if visiting Argentina, avoid the Ruta 3 like the plague. Riding this road is as tedious and monotonous as trying to count the hairs on a German Shepard dog.

As I've said before, the wind is brutal, at one point I passed a truck which was over on its side, doubt if the wind did it all but did a little of it guaranteed.

Other than that with ten hours in the saddle and a straight run you spend the day torturing yourself..and doing the whole coulda shoulda woulda routine.... and not surprisingly the list of things you've fucked up on in your life come very quickly to mind to drive you demented.

One more day on the road.... and that's this part finished....
Over and out...
The big fella

Trelew, Ruta 3 Argentina

I left San Julian this morning after a bite to eat and headed north, about 500 miles was on the docket, and it was a tedious bastard. The road almost never bends, and the land is a flat as a pancake. There isn't a hill, a lake, nothing to take your mind off what looks like an unravelled ball of twine running through a sea of blue green pampas.

When you were close to the coast you were getting knocked right to left by the wind, and when you moved away the wind knocked you from left to right. The amount of truck traffic increases as you ride north and when your not getting clobbered enough by the wind these boys clobber you with their slipstream.....

What you really need to help you out is a sidecar with a pig in it. A real pig. I've told yee before that a pig is the only animal that can see the wind, what you want it a side car with a little pig, a helmet, and a microphone and earpiece to tell you when the gusts are coming. If he gave you any cheek you could just threaten him with a frying pan.... "You'll be in there ya bollix!..any more out of you." The other advantage to a pig is that he always knows who farted. Did you know that they speak with an Austrian accent...?...of course you did!

I kept breaking the journey up into 80km/50miles stages, either stop for gas, some water, take a picture, anything to get you off the bike and take your mind off the monotony of this flat land.

The wind is too loud for an ipod so its just you and the helmet, thinking to yourself, "Cmon Ois, you've done over 20,000 miles on this trip, what the fuck do you normally think about to make the miles go by?" I couldn't think of anything...just the relentless count down of the kilometer marker posts.... 2451......2450.....

A long the way I passed lots of Llama's and Guanaco's, I cant tell them apart, and heaps and heaps of EMU's. A mammy EMU has lots of kids, I didn't realise that.... when you see the size of the egg I would have though the poor girls nether regions wouldn't be able to knock out more than one egg....but they've lots......

Later on I hit a goat head on. He was just standing in the middle of the road, I was beeping the horn like a whores bastard...and he looked like he got out of the way...so at about 30mph...as I was just about to pass him he doubled back and I hit him side on. He bounced off the wheel and out of the way of the bike and I jarred both ankles, knees, and hips keeping the bike from hitting the deck.

I pulled over to see if I'd done any damage to the bike... I couldn't see anything but I'm sore as fuck.... I can see me now in 40 years when I'm walking with a limp...and some young fucker says to me.... Is it the arthritis?..I'll say it is....and they'll say is that because of the blah blah...and I'll say no...its on account of a fuck featured patagonian goat!.....that'll be one they wont have heard before..

I stopped in Trelew for the night...a great little spot, 20 yo'yo's, bike parked just outside the door... I'm off to get some ice for my ring! :-)


Few folks asking what camera I'm using...
Its just a point and shoot Canon; SD990 IS, bullet proof little yokey, even survived a drop from the bike at 65mph!!....and I do all the photo editing using Picasa (Free from Google)


Take care
Over and out
Goat Boy

Puerto San Julian, Ruta 3 Argentina

The plan today was pretty simple, drive as far up the road as possible. However Puerto San Julian had other ideas.

So where we left the story is that I'm busy hurtling towards Buenos aires on account of the strike which starts 22nd of December, which is also when I fly back to Dublin so I've been trying to organise an earlier flight to avoid it. Given the distance between me and Buenos Aires... i need to haul ass to meet the connection.

Well anyway!... would you believe that in all of Puerto San Julian today there was no gasoline, none!...not a lick!....every station had run out. Just because I'm on the Ruta 3 now, doesn't mean that this area isn't hard to keep stocked up with Petrol. I've about 50km worth of juice in the tank and the nearest gas in 115km away....

Even though I'm rushing I said ok, fuck it, still got lots of other stuff I can be doing, so I made myself a little list. Laundry, Wash bike, haircut and beard trim, sort out paperwork for shipping bike, and a wank.

I sorted out the last one straight away. I then went off looking for a haircut, not on the palm of my hand before you interject!...but there are no barbers of hairdressers from what I can see. I walked for over 90minutes around the town...so said to myself...ok just do it yourself...and you can see from the picture above I did ok!....all done with the same little scissors that I knifed my third bollock with in Mexico, thats beard and hair mind!. In fairness the back of my head looks like a burst couch but it'll do till I get back to Ireland.

The laundry and the bike wash were thankfully less trouble free. By 5pm the gas stations had been restocked so I am the proverbial sprung coil waiting to unleashed in the morning.

I then went onto the replica boat here that Magellen used, have a look for yourself. Would you sail from here to Europe in that?

The Ruta 3 is a bastard of a road, just because its so straight, had km marker poles to count you down one by one the whole way to Buenos Aires, but mainly because of the wind. Its not enough to blow you off the bike but it wears you down over the course of the day and by the time you stop your ears are ringing, you've a roaring headache and you just wish you were anywhere but on that road.

Tomorrow I'm aiming to get about 800km closer to Buenos Aires, but that's what I said today!

Quick quote to finish with...
"He used to say that there was only one road, that it was like a great river; its springs are at every doorstep and every path is its tributary. Its a dangerous business going out of your door, if you dont keep your feet there is no knowing where you might be swept off to....do you realise this is the very path that leads you to Ruta 40!"

Bilbo Baggins

Over and out
Haircut 100