Over hot, over the top, over or not?
27 November – Updating whilst on the road to Lima, that’s a first for this motorbike trip, but I’ll explain how that’s possible later. It turned into more than a week of hanging out in Tarapoto with Pete and Leon. It was meant to be half that but my bike was overheating and each fix suggested by mechanics didn’t seem to work. A cooling system fix is easy for professionals in a professional shop, but it seemed I couldn’t find either. Eventually I was referred to a guy who worked out it was a blown head gasket (the fragile metal seal deep in the engine). We promptly did the 6-hour surgery and a 30 minute test drive showed she was good to go. It was a relief to get that problem off my mind to focus on the trip. I set off the next day, and I even had a yippee-giggle as I set off on the road again. A yippy-giggle is something familiar to someone who has ridden a moto and has a rush of excitement, adventure, or a sudden realisation of where they are. They’re rare and the feeling is incomparable.
7 hours later through cocoa country across rivers, mud rain and some untrustworthy bridges, the bike’s temperature shot straight up. Nooooo, the problem was back. I cleaned some mud that had blocked the radiator but it didn’t help. Obviously, scraping the gasket clean and putting some putty on it wasn’t good enough, and failed. My engine was sucking in coolant and I couldn’t ride 20 minutes before the radiator was empty. To get to the next decent town I stopped every 20 to let it cool and refill with a big water jug I carried on my lap. I pulled in on dark and right before a good Peruvian rainstorm came through.
The mechanic the next day couldnt help, he knew his stuff, but I need to order the original parts from the states or get them made in Lima. I had a choice to complete the 12 hour bus journey to Lima. Limp her there, filling radiator every 20 minutes and changing the oil completely about 3 times, or go to the truck depo and wait for a banana or wood truck to make the trip. I chose the latter and went to the truckstop. A landslide from the rains the night before had cut off all the supply trucks so after 4 hours waiting I had a truck. But they weren’t leaving until the next morning “very early, 6am”. I had checked out of my hotel and the owner offered his floor to camp on. I got out my sleeping bag to get ready. I have a side case which is just for camping, something I haven’t done this part of the trip. I also put in a can of refried beans and a can of veggies for emergency food. I actually bought the can in mexico 11 months ago. It turns out the my gasket wasn’t the only thing that broke its seal. I didn’t take pictures, but I’m sure you can imagine what refried beans would look likes after 2 weeks of tropical heat. Don’t ever think travelling by moto is glamorous! After cleaning as much of the sludge as I could, I took out my sleeping bag, which was fairly protected by its cover. I fell asleep on the floor to the faint smell of a mexican fart.
It was a cool little experience living with this working peruvian family for a short time, they were extremely hospitable and are happy and content with minimal things. The ‘very early, 6am’ turned into a casual 11:30. And that brings me to where I am now, 8pm on a saturday night, chatting with Gustavo and Lenny, listening to 90′s classic techno pop(doesn’t quite go with the andes scenery), and teaching them the bad words they want to know. Its cool seeing what goes on these trucks that I usually just fly by. The slow pace and lack of leaning into corners is killing me but the dress code is much more casual! We should arrive into Lima around 3am where I can hunt down a hostel, a mechanic, a gasket maker and a seal maker… oh and a beer.
November 30 – Well 3am turned into 8am but eventually I made it to a quiet hostel in Lima and eventually fell asleep for 16 hours. From the point I stopped writing from the truck, things got colder, the cabin felt smaller and the night was long. I had a newfound respect for the patience and the pace these truck drivers have. Taking naps when you feel you need to, and filling the cabin with 5 blankets to edge of the cold of crossing a 5000m andes pass at 4am.
I ended up finding a chinese-peruvian mechanic who worked on the street with another guy, but he knew his stuff. He seemed to be the go-to-guy for the locals here in Lima, and after 2 days working on the bike, I am trusting his work. It seems I’ve spent the last week hanging around mechanics instead of enjoying the trip itself. I have actually learnt alot chatting to the mechanics and other people waiting on bikes. I have found it common to call people straight by what their main physical trait is. Everybody in town greeted Alberto with ” Chino”. If you’re large they call out Gordo(fatty) to get your attention, flaco (skinny) if you’re skinny, Vieja (old woman) if you’re an old woman, Negro (black) if you’re black etc. etc. Not something that’s exactly PC in western culture, but it’s interesting how there is no offense or insult intended, and from what I can tell none received. I barely notice anymore when they call “gringo” to get my attention.
Tomorrow I will set off with a well-repaired motorbike with new gaskets. I really hope the motorcycle adventure continues tomorrow and not the motorcycle repair adventure!
