The path got a little smaller and looked less and less like a road a GPS would suggest.

I stopped at a sign which I hoped would clear things up for me. But it didn’t. It was in Spanish (which I don’t speak) and it had tons of warning signs at the bottom and one little passage in English saying something like permission from the local government is needed to drive here and only 4×4 vehicles are allowed to pass. I wasn’t sure as to why my GPS would suggest this rout. The GPS app on my phone I was using (“HERE” ) had still not failed me across the 12000 km I used it on so far, even in Iceland it worked like a charm. So my optimistic thought was that this was probably just a short connection to the main road which had to come any minute now…

The road didn’t actually look too bad which gave me confidence that my theory was right. The only thing that concerned me a little was that there were mountains all around me and no visible place to get out. Maybe a tunnel, I though. Probably.

The further I went though the clearer it became that this was not a “real” road. Ahead of me was just a wall of rock and no trace of a proper road. The weather also started to reveal the fact that I had climbed quite a bit in the past two hours. There was thick fog all around me.

My last bit of hope that this was going to turn into a proper road was taken away by the little stream running through my path.

I was beginning to think there might have been something to the little warning signs on the sign post earlier.

Briefly a few little houses I passed gave new hope but it was short lived as most of them were ruins. Also the road got worse and started to get steeper.

The bike was fully loaded which is not ideal for off-roading but there is no way around that when traveling long distances.

Riding on the rocky terrain was tricky. By trail and error I realized I had two options. I had gone slow at first trying to slalom around the larger stones looking for the most even ground. But as it turned out going slow was actually more difficult than the second option, going fast. Especially with a heavy bike this is the method of choice for this kind of terrain. The best technique is to shoot over the rocks with momentum. That way you are not constantly pushing the handle bar around risking losing the bikes balance because the bikes momentum that doesn’t change when you have already yanked the handle bar in a different direction to avoid the next rock. And it is also far less likely to be thrown off balance by a rock under the front wheel which suddenly makes the wheel jump. If you go fast the momentum of the bike swallows up these kinds of sudden bumps. Naturally going fast on this kind of ground is a challenge in and of itself but trying both it quickly becomes apparent that going fast is the way to go.

It got steeper and steeper and by the looks of it I was simply going up the mountain that lay ahead of me. Not tunnels. No main road.

It looked like my GPS had finally properly failed me. Once again unfortunately the GoPro Camera doesn’t properly convey inclines due to it’s wide angle but the road became so steep that the engine died again and again. I had reached a point where I had to make a decision whether I wanted to push on or turn around. The problem with turning around though was that going downhill on a gravel road is the worst thing you can do on a motorcycle. The bike may be heavy but it is not heavy enough to give you enough grip and once you start sliding there is no stopping. Hence there was no going back.

A few more meters ahead the road got so steep that I even lost all grip going up. Many times I started the engine twisting the throttle and playing with the clutch but I didn’t get far. Each time after the engine died the released weight of the bike forced me to get up and put my feet on the ground while hitting the breaks and try and push against the bike wanting to roll down. When starting the engine again I had the choice between full throttle or slow and steady. Full throttle would have meant digging the rear wheel into the gravel shooting out rocks. Slowly playing with clutch and throttle meant tormenting the clutch but it seemed to be the only other choice.

After many tries only gaining a few feet I finally got a rock large enough under my rear wheel to give me some grip and with more throttle I got the right amount of speed to shoot over the gravel again. A great relief not least because the clutch had already started to smell.

Another five minutes ahead I thankfully reached some kind of valley where the road didn’t seem to be climbing anymore. At least for now.

I turned back to realize how far I had come.

The view was breathtaking and I stopped to relax for a few minutes and take a few sips of water.