La Ruta De Las Lagunas: A Ride in Southern Bolivia

[MotoNews]

Published in: Rides

It was late June when we arrived at San Pedro de Atacama in northern Chile. Our first encounter with the Andes and the high altitude had already given us an idea of how our scooter behaved under such conditions. We had replaced the carburetor jet with a smaller one more adequate for the thin air and, for many miles, had been traveling with the air filter completely removed. And, in some cases, to climb the steeper slopes, one of us had to push the scooter and walk.

The road from Argentina to Chile up to San Pedro de Atacama is paved; riding with no air filter made things relatively easy, although even that would soon change.

A while ago, while preparing for our trip across South America, we read about the “Ruta de las Lagunas”—the lakes route through one of the most spectacular places on Earth. The entire area lies in the southwest part of Bolivia, at over 14,000 ft. on the Bolivian altiplano. From the first photos we saw, we decided to explore this area together on our Vespa.

However, after serious consideration, we decided we’d need to cross this area separately to avoid damaging our machine. It seemed unlikely we could make it two-up on the overloaded scooter. Between San Pedro de Atacama (Chile) and Uyuni (Bolivia), this route covers about 340 miles off-road, crossing through the largely uninhabited high plateau.

It’s a vast rocky terrain, full of volcanoes, geysers, hot springs, and above all, volcanic lakes with boiling water and striking colors.

Superb! Even the flora and fauna in this area have adjusted to this harsh environment that seems like another planet. At the end of the route, you’re on the edges of the Salar de Uyuni, the world’s largest salt flat—3,900 square miles of pure white salt!

In San Pedro de Atacama, travel agencies offer organized 4x4 tours to Uyuni, so the first thing we did was book one for me. The plan was to travel separately through the Ruta de las Lagunas and meet again in Uyuni. Since there is no cellphone coverage up there, we set the place and time of our reunion after three days at Uyuni main square.

We talked with some travelers who tried to discourage us from attempting to roll our 10-inch wheels through the sandy and corrugated tracks of the Ruta de las Lagunas. They even said it would be impossible to find fuel or water and food supplies there, but we decided to ignore them. It wasn’t the first time we heard exaggerated stories, and if we believed all of them, we’d never have gotten out of our apartment in Athens.

The day of our departure came; I left early taking almost all the luggage. It was the first time we traveled separately; I was a bit anxious, but Stergios was excited since riding under such conditions is always a challenge. The next few days of my version of the trip seemed like a canned adventure: ready meals cooked by our guide, dinner and sleep in organized shelters, scheduled times, and itineraries. And if that were not enough, the rest of the crew were 20-year-old students from the U.S., Canada, and the U.K. obviously in the mood for partying.

Stergios took only the necessary equipment in order to lighten the scooter as much as possible: camping equipment, warm clothes, 1.3 gallons of water, some food, and a 2.6-gallon jerrycan of gas. He arrived at the border around 9:00 a.m. and stood in line to have his passport stamped and do the Vespa’s paperwork.

The immigration office was a small building with a huge Bolivian flag fluttering in the cold wind. The customs officer laughed sarcastically when he saw the scooter and warned Stergios that it would be impossible to cross the area “on that thing.” Eventually, Stergios entered the “Eduardo Abaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve.”

July is one of the coldest months of the year, but winter in the Bolivian altiplano has an advantage: the climate is completely dry.

He had to cope with the high altitude, the wind, and the low temperatures, but at least it wouldn’t rain.

He used the GPS to help navigate the tracks and only a few miles into the reserve saw the first two volcanic lakes: the Laguna Verde and the Laguna Blanca—the Green and the White lagoons. Their many different colors are a result of high mineral content, and they're visually impressive. In the background stands the Licancabur volcano. The symmetrical cone at 2,000 ft. is only one of the many ancient volcanoes in the area. Off-roading from there was difficult, but in no case impassable.

A few kilometers north, he stopped near the Chalviri salt flat, where waters from Polques hot springs gather to form a small spa often used by tourists. He stopped next to the big trucks and caught many curious looks from passersby. The destination for that day was the Laguna Colorada—the Red Lagoon—and was completely amazed by its otherworldly scenery.

The Laguna Colorada is a salty lake loaded with minerals and algae, giving its water a rusty red color. There are also islands of borax whose white color contrasts with the reddish pigmentation with dozens of flamingos dancing about, making it a highly photogenic spot.

With the aid of the GPS, Stergios located the “refugio”—the shelter, where he’d spend the night. He was the first to get there and, as he told me later, was expecting to meet me. The first trucks from the various travel agencies arrived, but apparently I wasn’t among them. He eventually discovered there were various places to sleep around Laguna Colorada. Unfortunately, it was getting dark, so he couldn’t check.

After a good night’s sleep, he continued north where the corrugated road rattled his teeth, a telltale sign that sooner or later, something would come loose on the poor scooter.

 After an almost sleepless night surrounded by partying students, I woke up in the freezing cold to gaze at the sunrise until the rest of the crew was ready. I was disappointed at not having met Stergios. At least, the hangover made my fellow travelers quiet and easier to get along with. Some guy from another agency we bumped into mentioned seeing a bearded rider on a ridiculously small bike. What a relief! At least I knew Stergios was okay.

The route was astonishingly beautiful, and I was enjoying the silence in the truck when suddenly I spotted Stergios! I hung from the window, screaming and waving trying to draw his attention. But the noise of the scooter’s motor was so loud he couldn’t hear me. I was anxious to find out if he needed anything, but later found out he was doing just fine. He’d purchased gas from a truck driver and was ready for the next section towards the Honda and Hedionda lakes.

After that brief moment of joy, our paths diverged again. The route he chose was more beautiful but also more difficult. However, now that he had some idea of what to expect and was sure the scooter was strong enough, he was determined to give it a go. But the freezing wind had converted his coffee into a chunk of ice and his hands were so cold that it was difficult to pitch the tent. Additionally, the thin air made even the tiniest movement a huge effort.

His only companion, after the tourist trucks left, was a small fox who carefully observed him struggling in the frigid gusts.

That night was even colder. He slept wearing all the clothes he had, but the spectacular sunrise the next morning was a great reward. According to what we’d read, the most difficult part was now behind us. Only 25 miles remained until the main road to Uyuni. This was an easy dirt road with some sneaky parts of soft sand, but Stergios didn’t care. He was flying over it in third gear! He was on his way to meet me in Uyuni and then head directly to the massive salt flat, the Salar.

The second night of my canned adventure had no alcohol or drunken students. We slept in a hotel made of salt. After a great dinner, I spoke with our guide, a young Bolivian trying to have a better life than his father who died from cancer working in the mines of Potosi.

The following morning, the experience of driving across the massive salt surface while watching the sunrise was an amazing experience indeed. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how the view would be from our scooter’s seat. Luckily, Stergios and I arrived at the main square of the small town of Uyuni at exactly the same time, where we immediately left for the Salar—at last, just the two of us!

From the moment we entered the infinitely blinding white surface, we realized its uniqueness. The ultimate blue of the sky plays games on your mind with the endless whiteness, making it impossible for us to navigate without a GPS. We couldn’t miss such a ride as we were both so happy to be back on our scooter. It didn’t take long to decide to spend the night wild camping next to the Isla del Pescado—Island of the Fish.

There wasn’t a single cloud in the starry night sky and the only noise that broke the absolute silence was that of the scooter’s engine.

Early in the morning, we were awoken by birds flying over the cacti—the only type of vegetation on the island. Over breakfast and seated on the thick salty crust enjoying the view, we promised ourselves one thing: We would return one day but would ride the entire way two-up!

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 Stergios Gogos and Alexandra Fefopoulou first met in 2014 in the Democratic Republic of Congo while Stergios was on his RTW and Alexandra was doing Ph.D. fieldwork. Since then, they’ve been traveling together. They write, film, photograph, and ride their vintage Vespa scooter around the world, combining their passions—and have recently released their first book “Rice & Dirt: Across Africa on a Vespa.” WorldVespa.net
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