Can anyone bike tour in South America?
Yes. Of course. All you need to do is get on your bike and ride it. Silly.

Do I need special skills beyond riding a bike to enjoy myself?
You should feel comfortable riding in major city traffic, riding on major highways, and riding on loose gravel and washboard. If you aren’t comfortable on gravel and washboard, you aren’t going to have too much fun.

What kind of “training” should I do?
The first week of bike touring is all the training you need.

How did you deal with traffic?
On two-lane roads with no shoulder, we generally rode single file. The cars and trucks passing us tended to give us plenty of room. However, the person in the back had a mirror. If there were two large vehicles going each way, and there was clearly no room for everyone, the person behind would yell “bail” and we’d move onto the unpaved shoulder for a ways until traffic had passed. It was kind of a bummer, but not too bad.

On unpaved, ripio roads, we tended to ride wherever the best line was, and there was rarely enough traffic to need to get off the road.

Most paved roads in Bolivia and Chile had wide shoulders, so it was no problem.

In Bolivia, when they honk at you, it is just their way of saying “hey” and “I’m passing you.” It gets really old after a while, but it’s not malicious.

What special gear do I need?
Well, you can check out our gear list for specifics.
You need camping gear, bike tools, and clothes.
However, there are a few things that I think are must-haves.
-a stove that runs on a variety of fuels (unleaded gas is pretty easy to find; kerosene and white gas were nearly impossible)
-rain gear and covers for all your bags
-seriously warm clothes if you are going to be at altitude
-antibiotics-ask your doctor or travel clinic. Seriously.
-hose clamps in a variety of sizes-they can temporarily fix everything from a broken rack to a busted frame.
-big plastic trash bags-instant waterproofing if your tent develops a leak, or when you need to make sure that your down bag doesn’t get wet.
-Clothespins and a line
-cutting board

Do I need to speak Spanish?
Well, it sure helps. However, we met a lot of european bike tourists that spoke very little Spanish, and they seemed to be doing just fine. If you don’t speak any, bring a phrase book, and learn the words that you are going to need-can I camp here, where’s the supermarket/gas station/campground/hospital/potable water, and anything else you think you want to communicate. And we are from Los Estados Unidos, or Yanquis (pronounced jhankies).

How did you get your bikes on the boats, buses and trains?
Buses
1. Shop around. Some companies have policies about bikes, some don’t. Sometimes, if you have your fully loaded bike with you, they will take one look and tell you no way, or say it’s no problem. Once, we had the ticket agent call a driver and ask. Listen for the word “encomienda”-, or “como encomienda.” That means it needs to be boxed up. They might also use the phrase “pagar aparte” or “excesivo equipaje.” That means that you will have to pay extra. These are good phrases to know when later, you are arguing with the driver.

2. When you buy your ticket be sure and tell the person selling it to you that you have bikes and “equipaje”- luggage. Ask the ticket agent to write “bicicletas” on your ticket. They rarely will, but they will probably remember you and that’s a good thing.

3. Try and find the bus that is least full. Morning buses are better, usually.

4. Always be prepared to pay extra. Ask at the ticket counter how much-again, they might have a policy. If there is a driver standing around, ask him. Finally, just have a bunch of small-ish bills in your pocket for tips as well as paying extra.

5. Make your four or so bike bags into two packages. This way, you only have three items of checked luggage per person. You will have to figure out how to carry all your crap pretty quickly, but it’s possible.

6. Remove the front wheel and strap it on to your frame. (If you aren’t boxing it already.) This makes it look like you have taken some effort. Also be prepared to turn your handlebars and remove your rear wheel if necessary.

7. Be incredibly friendly and polite, but also firm. If they told you that you could get your bike on, insist that your bike is going on that bus. (In Chile, I was taken by a manager into the back room of an office while he argued with the ticket agent who told us it would be ok, but eventually they had to relent.)

8. It is always touch-and-go, but stay calm. Insist that you will pay the extra fees.

9. Double decker buses have less storage space than the single level ones, but they are so much nicer.

Argentina-This is the hardest place to get a bike on the bus. You need to wrap them in cardboard, remove the pedals, turn the handlebars, and in general make them as small and stackable as possible. And then argue with the conductors at length. Some companies will refuse to take you, so don’t buy tickets from them.

Chile-easier than Argentina, but you still should remove your front wheel and be prepared to argue.

Bolivia-anything goes in Bolivia. We put bikes on top of the bus (very common) and LOCKED THEM DOWN). We also put them underneath, without bags but with the wheels, etc. We did get one conductor insisting that we pay extra after we arrived, which was annoying.

Trains-
We only took one train in Bolivia. About four hours before it left, we took our fully loaded bikes to the luggage room and checked them exactly as is. When the luggage car arrived, two little kids took our bikes and, with help, lifted them in the car. In this situation (and in all of them), we watched very carefully until both bikes were stowed. At the end of the ride, they were unloaded and we rode off. It was really, really easy.

Boats-
We took boats in all three countries. In Argentina, we just paid a bit extra, and the crew loaded them on full loaded. Same in Chile. It was incredibly easy. In Bolivia, we charted a little tiny boat to take us across the Straits of Esquina in Lake Titicaca, and again, we just lifted the boats down. (That ride cost less than three dollars. It was great.) As always, we told the ticket agent that we had bikes with eqipaje, and it was no problem at all.

OK-for those who are reading who don’t know my background, let me explain a little bit about myself. I spent almost three years as the vice-chair of Portland’s Bicycle Advisory Committee, hours and hours of my life in meetings reviewing various city plans for bike things, and finally, I worked at the nation’s leading bike and pedestrian and trail planning agency for a year and a half. I am a certified bike safety teacher for kids and adults; I also teach pedestrian safety to young children. Finally, I taught the bike part of the diversion class (if you get a ticket for not having a light on your bike or something like that, you can take the class) offered by Multnomah County. I know an awful lot about bike and ped facilities. I really enjoy geeking out about this stuff. So, if you want to know more, read on. These are just some impressions of four months of riding.

Our first day riding in South America consisted of following directions from our super awesome hostel, the Gecko to a series of gorgeous parks in Buenos Aires. I was utterly shocked to find that there are great bike paths all through the city. In fact, riding there wasn’t as bad as I thought at all. Not only were there bike paths, nice, separated, signalized bike paths, there were also clearly marked shared lanes and other facilities. A free, touristy bike map is available at the tourist offices. That was a nice surprise, and a lovely taste of what was to come.

It seems that every small to moderate sized town has a multi-use, paved path leading into the center of town. They seem to start at the outskirts, or in Esquel, about 4k from the city, and go on for 1-5 kilometers. There are also frontage roads in many towns signed for bike use. I am not sure I can describe the feeling of welcome a bike tourist gets when you can get on a separated path and ride it all the way into town. This was taken to the next level by Santiago’s bike path. It actually started just where the highway into town ended and rode, on the sidewalk and in the center median, all the way to the center of town. In fact, it went so far that we didn’t take it all the way. Santiago would’ve been terrifying for us without that path. As it was, we rode all over and were able to get a lot done because it was easy and safe. There were also on-street two-way bike paths, separated from the auto area by little curbs, well signed and clearly part of a cross-town system. Sorry we didn’t get any photos of these; they were really cool.

As far as the actual facility in Santiago, well, my professor in Bike and Ped Planning Issues would instruct me on how to rate it, and I guess it wouldn’t come out too high on the scale. The pavement was rough in places. There were some crossings that were pretty bad for right turning cars to hit crossing cyclists. Many of the pavement markings had worn away, and often the path was less than 5′ across for two way traffic. The path even went out of direction a couple of times. And there were stubborn pedestrians in the way, even though they had about 20′ of sidewalk on either side of the street. All these issues are the sorts of things that rabid bike geeks and planners hold up as examples of Badly Designed Facilities. But here’s the thing that I have come to realize: a Badly Designed Facility is a radical improvement over No Facility At All. I mean really.

In Portland, we get our panties all in a bundle about the silliest arguments-we can’t put a bike lane in that place because a car might be confused, etc. And I understand that we want to create the absolute best facilities possible, of course we do. And we should be trying to do our best. But I am really starting to think that something is better than nothing. By a long shot.

In Bolivia, there are signs on all the highways warning cars of the presence of bikes. That was sweet. Everyone rides bikes there for transportation, and while we didn’t actually see any facilities specifically for bicycles (beyond the signs), we felt incredibly safe on our bikes. Even in the mini-bus insanity of La Paz, it was really clear that drivers were watching for cyclists and pedestrians, and didn’t have any negative feelings about them. No one was trying to hit us. It was lovely.

Then we saw the Zebras. While no one is trying to hit anyone else in La Paz, the traffic on the main road might best be described as a chaotic nightmare. Traffic signals seem to be optional, and brave police in white gloves and safety vests try and impose order at intersections. Meanwhile, women dressed as Zebras stand at pedestrian crossings and, when traffic has a red light, stand in the middle of the crossing and assist pedestrians across the street. They dance, and scold people who cross against the light, and generally call attention to the fact that pedestrians need to get across too. I loved, loved, LOVED the zebras. I can just see people dressed as Zebras in some of the busier school crosswalks in the mornings…wouldn’t it be great?

Finally, riding in Chile, even on a major highway between Valpariso and Santiago, we felt relatively safe. There were the tunnels that bikes weren’t allowed to ride, but you could just go and ask the highway maintainence folks to drive you and your bike in a truck through the tunnel. It was no big deal. Like of course there were cyclists who needed to get through, and of course the transportation authorities should make it safe for them.

In Valparaiso, between Vina del Mar and Valpo, we rode on a separated, well marked bike path along the coast on a boardwalk-the sort of thing that cost very little to install (some paint, some reflectors to designate bike space from ped space) once the decision had been made to make a wide boardwalk along the coast. It was the kind of path that every waterfront (like they do in Vancouver BC) should have, in my snobby opinion. It made everything so, so easy. And for the dozens of people riding on a gray day into and out of Valpo, clearly commuting, it was fantastic.

All in all, I would say that the places we visited in South America were far more accommodating to cyclists than most places in the States. Not only in the attitudes, but in the facilities offered to non-motorized transportation. And you know their governments don’t have much, if any, money.

Surely our communities can get it together, right?

Hi all!
Greetings from Santiago, Chile. We’ve done some bike riding to get here, but most of the ground was covered by bus. Tomorrow we’re taking a bus to Buenos Aires, Argentina. It’ll get us there six days before we fly home, but there’s a rather impressive mountain range just to the east of us called the Andes, and the pass we need to cross was closed by snow just a few days ago. It’s open now, but we gotta get over the cordillera while we can.
It’s a bit of a shame. I like Santiago already. But on the plus side the bus will only be 23 hours long!
The bus down here from Arica was over 30 hours long. They served us food, which was good. But it was five consecutive “meals” of cookies, cake, and sugary “juice”. We ended up rather hungry. The countryside was amazing though. Not all that pretty, but for the first thousand kilometers or so, absurdly dry. On one side, the ocean. On the other side, lifeless desert. Sand, rock, dust. Even the valleys were brown and bone dry. Who knew?
We got off just to the north of Valparaiso, the hilly city on the sea. It reminded me alot of San Francisco. Steep hills with a heavy cultural emphasis on artsiness, angst-ridden-youthfullness, creativity, and grafitti. Oh man, there’s grafitti almost everywhere. I’m generally not much of a fan of graffiti art, but in Valpo (as they call it) it’s more, shall we say, community supported. Lots of stuff that’s clearly not done in the dead of night by kids with ego issues. Some of it’s big murals, but much of it’s tiny details in corners and such. People also paint their homes very colorfully. And they’ve got these conveyances called ascensors, which are like an elevator that takes you up the many hills. Kinda like a gondola on the ground. All in all a fascinating, beautiful city. Easy to fall for Valpo. Easy to fall down the steps in Valpo too!
So after a couple days there, which wasn’t enough but cities cost lots of money, we rode out towards Santiago. Two long days on the road led us through the heart of Chilean wine country. We passed a few vineyards we recognized, for Chilean wine is quite a bargain in our tax bracket. This was to be our last actual bike touring of the trip, unless we mosey around Buenos Aires a bit. Seems unlikely. So choosing our last campsite was rather special. It didn’t end up being all that spectacular- just a flat spot in amongst scrubby trees on some property used primarily by cattle - but it was safe, secluded, and perfectly private. Slealth-camping at it’s best. We stayed up looking at the southern constelations that’ve been our night-time companions for these last four months, knowing we won’t see much of them from the big capital cities where we’ll spend the rest of our time. I’ll miss them. But I do kinda miss the Big Dipper and Scorpio and the rest of the Polaris gang too.
We’ll be camping plenty in the coming months anyways!
Santiago sits at the foot of the Andes just south of Cerro Aconcagua (the highest point in the Americas). It’s got awesome bicycle and pedestrian facilities. An Oregonian bicycle safety teacher like me might occasionally have it up to here with Amsterdam this and Amsterdam that, like there’s nobody else in the world putting in creative, effective bike paths. When it comes to bicycle transportation, South America in general seems to get it. These countries ain’t rich like some in the E.U. or the States, but there’s tons of folks getting around by bike and transporting goods by cargo bike. It reminds me just how world-wide bicycle use is. As you might imagine, it makes me happy!
Well, that’s about that up until now. We really like Chile. We’ll be happy to get back to Argentina too. Definately plan to post more pictures when we get there, but for tonight….
Buenos Noches!
-Andy