From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

6:15 am, morning wake up. A few stretches. I decide to get up. It’s still dark out, the sun won’t be up for another half an hour. Before getting dressed, I make sure that no scorpion or spider snuck into my clothes or shoes during the night. Wow, the tent is damp. It won’t have had a chance to dry out before we have to roll it up again. The morning routine is accompanied by the incessant and deafening noises coming from the trucks stopped only a few metres from our campsite, in front of the café that kindly allowed us to pitch our tent here last night.

I get my daily dose of gasoline fumes trying to light our stove. I make tea. Despite the noise, Sara is still sleeping when I have my first breakfast. I eat two cups of cold, dry cereal while filling up the six water jugs that I detached from the bike lock and reattach the accessories like the speedometer. The water boils. It’s time to wake up Sara. After she stretches a couple of times, she makes breakfast : tortillas filled with bananas and spread.  We gulp them down while packing up the bags. The tea has got cold, and it is time to fold up the tent and to brush our teeth using the smallest possible amount of water – no more than an ounce.

8:10, we’re back on the saddle for another long day of pedaling. It’s already hot, above 20°C. The thermometer will only go up throughout the day. Since yesterday we’re riding along a flat, straight stretch of road, 90 km long… and we did about a third of it yesterday. The trucks that pass us mark the rhythm of our journey: almost all of them wave to us, and we wave back. After an hour and ten minutes and 24 km down, we take the first break. Some cookies, and then we’re off again. Lucky for us, the wind is behind us today. After a few dozen kilometers, we’ve run out of things to say. We jointly decide to put on the MP3 players, but only one ear bud so as not to isolate ourselves too much.

Finally, the much anticipated event of the day arrives. We reach the end of stretch. We take our first curve of the day after 55 km, and then, it begins again… A new, unending straight stretch of road, trucks driving by or passing us wave and we wave back. Our MPs play the same songs again and again. The sun goes down.

Before we get to the end of the stretch the sun goes down and we have to stop at the side of the road. No shower tonight, we’re roughing it, just hidden from view. We slide, stickily, into our sleeping bags.

Tomorrow, same deal.

And who said that we were “on vacation” for a year and a half?

Sébastien