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I rolled toward la capital stopping only in the party town of Gualeguachú for gas, water, and to look for extra bolts and nuts to preserve my license plate which was hanging by a single bolt with no nut.
I was only able to get water and gas. The day was Sunday and none of the hardware stores were open. Therefore I left the license plate to fend for itself a little longer and headed back out to Route 14.
Half way there I stopped to put in my ear
plugs. The use of glasses and motorcycle helmets requires an extra step or
two. The application process of the helmet is as follows:
1. Removal of glasses
2. Placement of helmet on noggin.
3. Replacement of glasses by way of the open visor.
By extrapolation, the removal of a helmet is the same series of operations in reverse.
Another tool I have begun to utilize is earplugs. These little bad boys help one to retain hearing for later use in the future. Riding on a motorcycle all day with the wind rushing by is not great for the hearing.
In preparation of the use of my earplugs I went through the helmet removal process, placing my glasses on the tank of the motorcycle so as not to forget them. This was followed by extracting the helmet and popping in the earplugs. I then replaced my helmet on that clever melon of mine and peeled out only to realize in a short 500-1000 meters that I couldn't see. Slowing down, I yanked my helmet off and slowly looked down to the tank hoping this gentle gesture would somehow balance out the more sudden movements that may have lost me my glasses. Sure enough my $200 flexon virtually unbreakable super glasses were nowhere to be seen.
I searched the last 1000 meters as well as I could, without glasses, for the next three hours turning up nothing but a couple of small snakes that entertained me for a while.
I left defeated and blurry.
I got into the far outskirts of BA that evening. I turned off the freeway into a town called Pilar to take a leak. While at the gas station, four people soon crowded around me asking where I was coming from and where I had been. I was quickly treated to a wonderful asado (BBQ) just a few feet away. And within an hour, I was heading to Jorge's butcher shop to store my stuff. I was asked by all the shop owners if I wanted to store my stuff in their shops. But that was an already solved problem.
Jorge invited me to stay at his house and
I accepted. That night I took my first shower in six days. However it was
not the cleanest shower I have ever used.
Leo, my pal, went with me to the airport. We took public transportation because I didn't want to haul Craig, who stands 6 foot 1 and weighs in at 220 pounds on my bike, which was designed to carry only 155kg. His weight, converted to Kilograms is about 100kg. I myself weigh about 75kg. Nuf said.
So we left Pilar at eight thirty am. His plane was to arrive at 11:15am. Two trains, two buses, and one cab later we finally arrive at the airport at about 12:30pm.
Looking around for another half hour, we found him at an internet café writing me an email.
We all then hopped on a bus and I instantly started Craig's crash course in Spanish. I started him memorizing basic verbs.
We trekked all around BA running errands; all the while Craig was tugging his large hiking backpack. We ended up, that evening, being turned away from a bar/dance club that we were supposed to meet a friend at. Perhaps it was that we were too scrubby looking and one of us was carrying an enormous 60 pound internal-frame backpack.
We then headed back to Jorge's house to get
some much needed rest. The three of us arrived to find Jorge not there and
the door locked. We found a bench and chatted it up, an hour later Leo bailed.
We ended up having to wait yet another hour before Jorge strolled up to find
two slightly tired foreigners with their hackles up.
The Adventure Is Joined
