Part Fifty Six: Fin del Mundo (Ushuaia Argentina)

Buff3y the Hard Core Adventure Cycling rolled into Ushuaia yesterday, thus completing the bicycle trip through the Americas.

Now as I stand by the water of the Strait of Magellan and turn my gaze to the north, there is not one latitude between this point (54 degrees 48′ 47″ South) and Dead Horse Alaska (70 degrees 12′ 20″  North) that has not been troubled by the pedaling fury that is Buff3y atop his trusty bicycle.

Every ocean to ocean, every sea to sea has been 100% Buff3y-Powered; no dotted lines; no motorized land transport: Pure Buff3y.

It has (just today) become something of a truism that there are essentially only two types of people in this world; those who have bicycled the Pan-American Highway, and the rest.

I’m elated to finish. This is a destination that I have earned! By the Great Lord Harry I have! In coming days it might sink in that it’s actually all over and there is no more pedaling to be done but am not quite there yet. People say you have mixed feelings when you finish a big trip and its true. I’ve been scared to think too much about the last days of riding for fear that ‘the last mile could be the hardest mile’. Right now I don’t want to jump up and down and say things like ‘Woo!’ or ‘Yeah!’ or even ‘Right On’. I’m just completely chuffed (dare I say, to the very core).

There is, however, a certain troubling feeling that this body may never again be the lean, mile-devouring, buffaldium-infused strike weapon that it is this day. I certainly intend to work on reinstating the flab over Christmas in Australia, preferably to the accompaniment of the gentle tonk of willow on leather that signals the time-honoured Australian ceremony of the Boxing-Day test match (that’s cricket for the heathens out there).

72 to go

I’ll miss the rhythm of riding eight, ten sometimes twelve hours a day just chuggin’ down the road. I’ll miss imbibing (and exuding) X litres of water every day, all of the body operating at a level that is difficult if not impossible to replicate elsewhere. In time I might even miss my own pasta concoctions but that’s a way off yet. Perhaps most of all I’ll miss the purity of the task of riding down the road, experiencing this wondrous planet and seeing what comes next.

Am loath to take the bike apart and pack it up for the plane but sadly it must be done tomorrow.

OK, admittedly the solo cyclist can go a little bit nuts out there on the long road but I think I’ve managed to bring myself back from the brink a few times and stay at least partially sane.

So what have we learned out there kids? These Americas are amazingly beautiful and biking is a beautiful way to see them. The world is also a far safer place than many would have you believe (unless you pass through Colon in Panama [refer song]). Biking is hard, some days so hard but ultimately a hugely rewarding way to see the world and even learn something of yourself along the way.

On traveling methodology, I had one of those ‘moments’ in Mexico when I turned left off the main southern highway and headed up the ‘Devil’s Spine’, a road into the hills towards Durango. In doing so, I (re)learned the importance of an oft-quoted cliché about traveling; that its not about the destination but the getting there. At that point I stopped just trying to pedal south to get to Ushuaia and started to take some interesting options, spending time and enjoy a more circuitous road. Without this turn I don’t think I would have then taken the mountain route through Peru, never ridden the Valley of Instant Death near Celendin or conquered the River of Instant Death with Eric and Lydie in Peru.  I would definitely never have done the ride from Sajama to San Pedro de Atacama in South West Bolivia, an experience that will stay with me till I shuffle off this particular mortal coil.

To all of the bikers I’ve shared the road with, my heartfelt thanks. Touring cyclists are a great bunch of people and those I met on the road south have repeatedly bolstered my sometimes wavering faith in humanity. I have huge respect for those who have the fortitude and imagination to ride out onto the long road and endure all of the hardships to see what the world has to offer from this unique perspective. Special thanks to Rob The Mystical Spider Whisperer and Ian The-Oddly-Scruffy who both showed me that it is possible to tour on a bike when at least a few cards have slipped between the cushions of the couch.

There are some awards to give out:

‘Nicest People’ award is shared by the Colombians and Argentinians. It was a pleasure to bike through and be greeted with nothing but kindness and respect.

‘Coolest People’ Award goes to the bicycle and craft-beer loving people of North West USA, thanks for showing me a truly groovy part of the USA.

‘Greatest Natural Beauty’ award goes to Bolivia (salt lakes and volcanoes) and Peru (for the high Andes).

‘Best Road Users’ award goes to all of the truck drivers of North and South America. They get a big thank you for being so considerate when passing by leaving loads of space. (The drivers of cars, RVs and the bus drivers of Canada get the raspberry here).

‘Best Song’ goes to ‘Bag-Stuffin’ Woman’ (Buff3aldo Records)

‘Most Beautiful Athletic Achievement’ goes to Buff3y for his non-synchronised swimming in Sajama, Bolivia.

‘Worst Pun’ goes to “We don’t need no stinkin’ bad cheese” (Mexico)

“Most popular blog entry’ award goes to ‘In defense of the Pant‘ (Vancouver, Canada)

My sincere thanks go to the guys at Co-Motion bikes in Eugene Oregon who put together a truly fantastic bike  for me. I also thank; two guys whose trip blog inspired me to head for Dead Horse with a bike.

Today I do feel a certain sense of responsibility to my army of readers who, in the absence of regular tales of daring-do from Buff3ysbicyclingblog will not have anything to liven up their drab wretched lives. Stay strong during the withdrawal period and talk out any issues you might have with friends and family. Don’t contact me unless it is to praise me as brilliant.

It’s been a lot of fun writing this blog over the last year and a half. I hope that you have enjoyed it. It’s been very therapeutic. Not sure who all of the 50 to 100 clickers per day have been but there is quite obviously something wrong with you all so seek help, now.

After the obligatory book, DVD and movie discussions, I’m off to the UK next year to study Shakespeare and early modern literature. Please don’t ask why. It just came to me as I pedaled through Ecuador that this was something important and would be enjoyable in my post-pedaling period.

If there are any bikers or prospective bikers out there who need the wise counsel or mentoring from Buff3y then email

It’s been a challenge, a joy, but perhaps over and above anything else it has been … well…..….hardcore.

Bye now.

Buff3y The Hard Core Solo Adventure Cyclist

[Buff3y will return in ‘Buff3y in the land of Instant Death’]


Part Fifty Five: Tierra Del Fuego

Tierra Del Fuego fence

The sign requests us to protect it, but what the hell is the endangered split-headed-beavertail -asaurus?!

The sign requests us to protect it, but what the hell is the endangered split-headed-beavertail -asaurus?!

Yes these are lifesized green toy soldiers taking the Maldivas.

Yes, these are life-sized green toy soldiers retaking the Islas Malvinas (Falkland Islands)!













Windy Sign








Buff3y The Hardcore Adventure Cyclist, having just conquered all of the South American mainland is now forging his way across Tierra Del Fuego towards this ride’s end point; the southern most city in the world, Ushuaia.

Now with only a few days until I arrive in Ushuaia it is curious how the notion that the ride will very shortly be over is just not really computing. Two days and then no more riding!? How can this be? I’ve been packing pannier bags in the morning and heading out onto the road for so long that it just seems silly that this will soon end.

What does one do when there is no more road south? How do you wake up and then go about a beige life without the wind blasting in your face? Without the need to curse Stribog with all manner of florid language? Well I suppose I’m about the find out.

Two days from now I will go from being the hardcore adventure cyclist to merely being just another passenger.

I will be (reluctantly) transformed from one who has enjoyed all the freedom to go and stop when I felt like it; someone who has suffered every mood of the weather and enjoyed all of the road’s joys to one who sees the world flash past a window frame, ignorant of gradient, wind, rain, surface, aching muscles etc etc.

I won’t be earning destinations – I’ll just arrive. I’ll be informed when I’m allowed to board. I’ll be offered tea or coffee. I’ll be told when I can and cannot use the toilet. When all I wish to do is ‘disembark’ like a civilised human being some idiot will no doubt gratingly inform me to “deplane”, as if one can seriously “de-car” or “de-bike”. Great galloping gods! In essence, I will go from being free to not being so. Bugger it.

Somewhat incongruously set against that sobering thought, I’m really looking forward to finishing. I’ve cycled every kilometre of land between Deadhorse Alaska to this point and, quite frankly, I’m a bit tired. Theatrical writing theory tells us that you need to tell the audience anything that really matters at least three times …so let me reiterate: I have cycled every kilometre south from Deadhorse Alaska to this point that is about 220km from the southern most point of the Pan-American Highway. So, just to be clear, I have cycled every kilometre south from Deadhorse Alaska through Canada, USA, Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile and Argentina. Haven’t added all of those kilometres up as yet but will do so soon. Suffice to say here that its a lot!

Anyway. On-on and twice more unto the bike I go dear friends to reach the end point. Will communicate again from Ushuaia in a few days.