South America in Versys 650 – Latin America on a motorcycle (04): festival of galleys in the Amazon –

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Latin America on a motorcycle (04): festival of galleys in the Amazon

South America in Versys 650 - Latin America on a motorcycle (04): festival of galleys in the Amazon -

I have been in Manaus, the metropolis of the jungle, in the heart of the Amazon rainforest for two days. In the 19th century, this city was only a small village which then developed thanks to the rubber industry with the rise of the automobile.

I’ve been in Manaus for two days, the metropolis of the jungle, in the heart of the Amazon rainforest. In the 19th century, this city was only a small village which then developed thanks to the rubber industry with the rise of the automobile.

Today Manaus is mostly a free zone, but there are still vestiges of this prosperous period. Like the famous Amazonas Theater, built with bricks brought from Europe, French glass and Italian marble that crossed the Atlantic and then sailed up the Amazon in the 19th century, on ships of the time. Pure madness !

But it’s time to hit the road again for Porto Velho, the BR319 road more exactly. It’s the only earth link between Manaus and the rest of Brazil, yet it’s in a mess. Moreover, there is no bus between Porto Velho and Manaus, only the boat…

A hell of a struggle !

I don’t know yet, but I’m embarking on a hell of a job! Until Careiro, everything is fine: I take a barge to cross the Rio Negro and I find myself on a good road which leads me to Careiro (about 150 km) where I stop at a gas station.

The next day I refuel: 30 liters of gasoline which gives me a range of about 600 km. I have about 550 km to go before reaching Humaita, but apparently gasoline can be found in 450 km.

From this first day, the asphalt quickly disappears to give way to a succession of giant quagmires … I pass the first, the second … and the third I lay the bike down! It’s a hassle: I cook under my gear, push and pull the bike as best I can to get it going, but it’s really hard. In 2 hours I had to travel 15 km…

Then, wanting to avoid a too deep rut, I get stuck: the bike is taped, sucked, whatever you want … but it does not move! There, I give up … It is 1pm, I have done 80 km including 50 km of asphalt … My speed is only 10 km / h and I have 480 km to go! Fortunately, 10 minutes later, a pick up arrives! The amused driver understands that I need help. He reverses, his brother pulls out a strap and attaches the motorcycle to the 4×4. In two steps three movements, I am free !

The rest of the route is less muddy but just as difficult as the rain made the road very slippery. Not to mention the many detours to avoid collapsed wooden bridges, full of deep ruts.

Jaguars and boas

Around 4 p.m., I stop chatting with a guy sitting on a bridge. I take this opportunity to ask him how many kilometers away is the nearest village, because I have already traveled 150 km and I am dead. I take this opportunity to take out my wallet and see how much I have left. What a ball! I’m in the middle of the forest, running out of cash, and I have at least two days on the road before I find a bank !

A little panicked, I explained my concern to him. He then suggests that I sleep with his colleagues. They work for an electricity company that is renovating the line and there are about fifteen of them sleeping a little further away. So I spend the evening with them, I’m so happy. Nothing is too much trouble for everyone, one of them knows a few polite formulas in French and it’s time for endless laughs. Frankly a great team. Because on this road, there is no question of camping anywhere: jaguars and boas roam there !

The next day, after a few kilometers, I arrive at the famous village to take a barge and cross the river. The boat arrives, I get on it, and when it comes time to leave I explain that I only have 4 reals … This is where it all comes down to. Either he makes me pass for 4 reals instead of 10, or I’m good to go and withdraw a day’s drive away. But it passes !

On the other side I meet two Brazilians on motorcycles, Eduardo and Jose, 38 and 56, who are also going to Humaitá. I ask them if I can take the road with them because it will be more fun, safer, and in case they can advance me a bit, I will reimburse them to Humaitá.

I also realized another problem: I will never have enough gasoline to go to Humaitá, because the road yesterday was so difficult that my consumption was much higher than expected.

So I find myself without money and not enough gas … But what a blessing to meet two guys on motorcycles going to the same place as me! So here we are all three: they are very "local color" with their small 125 and I more tourist with my big motorcycle. Anyway, it rains so much that we drive at about the same speed, often with our feet on the ground to recover from the many swerves.

Sometimes we are lucky, a little tar appears, but there is nothing worse than a ruined road full of huge holes and constantly changing surfaces … Which is impressive c t is how the forest has taken over and is literally eating what is left of the road, to the point of often only leaving room for a vehicle. We are in the heart of the forest on a road that gives the impression of having survived many ends of the world.

We continue our way between 15 and 25 km / h, we fall, we get up … Every 30 km we stop to retighten the chains of the two small motorcycles. At 7 p.m., we have been driving for ten hours and we are desperately looking for a camp … Fortunately, people on the road tell us that there is an old telephone relay where we will find a place to shelter.

After an hour we find the famous gate … padlocked. Fortunately, the barbed wire fence has already been cut to pass. I then take out my Leatherman pliers (thank you for the gift François, you see I didn’t take it for nothing!) And cut a little more to fit the motorcycles. Here we will be safe from jaguars !

It’s a huge atmosphere, I have the impression of being in the film Jurassik Park, except that it’s me in the enclosure, with these high barbed wire and this telephone relay in which we cannot enter but which makes a hell of a noise. Fortunately, we can take shelter under an overhang. We are dry for the night.

Finally the last day! You start to get really tired, but that‘s also the adventure, pushing your limits. We’re off again, it’s raining heavily … The humidity is such that my camera is unusable for the day, the lens is full of fog. In any case, the scenery does not change: we cross the jungle in the pouring rain.

Everyone rolls at their own pace but I fall quite often and I finally sink my two suitcases, support broken … In short, I waste time and my fellow travelers. It is 1 p.m. but I am not stopping to eat, I absolutely have to catch up with them because I have no more money and not enough gasoline to go to Humaita…

Luckily this morning Jose gave me 2 liters of gasoline so that I could reach the village without any worries, which is 120 km before Humaitá. We should therefore meet there to refuel. But this road becomes an endless quagmire again and I struggle with my big motorcycle. I wanted to do this route so I will hold it until the end, even if the conditions are terrible.

Only 15 km before the village but … it’s running out of fuel! The situation is getting worse: without money, without gasoline, and without my colleagues whom I have not seen for almost three hours. I have food and drink, I’m not far from the next village, so I’m not panicking and I wait … 10, 15, 25, 40 minutes. An old man on a bicycle stops, I explain my problem to him, but he has to deliver his grain so he leaves. 5 minutes later a guy on a motorcycle passes. I explain my problem to him, he comes back 10 minutes later with a 1 liter bottle of Coke filled with gasoline !

I am saved, just enough to get to the village! I don’t know how to thank him … What a bowl, people are so cool in these remote areas. I go 1 km, I find my old man on his bike who stops me and hands me a bottle of Coke with … 2 liters of gasoline. I have no words to express how I am feeling at the time, these people just came to help me with a smile without expecting anything in return.

At first I didn’t dare accept his essence, but he only has a bike and made me understand that he doesn’t need it. I’m still doing 5 km and Eduardo, one of the bikers I’ve been riding with so far, arrives with 4 liters of gasoline! So we arrive at the village together.

At 6 pm the rain subsides: we set off again in the muddy ruts. More than 120 km, it’s hard, but we all have a smile. At about 60 km, asphalt reappears. We stop, Eduardo pulls a link in Jose’s chain, which has laid down quite a bit in the mud. Jose leaves first, then Eduardo and me. It’s pitch black, Jose is already far away, Eduardo and I left after.

Loss of consciousness…

Eduardo right in front of a huge hole in the middle of the road, I also narrowly avoided it, but 20 meters later we find Jose sprawled out, inert, next to the motorcycle … He has many wounds, his helmet badly or not tied flew and some of the blood is coming from his skull…

After a few minutes, he gets up. I do not understand Portuguese, but I realize that he has lost his memory: he does not know where we come from or where we are going and does not remember the accident … We are in shock . We ask him what his name is: Jose! It’s okay, he overlooked the accident but he remembers the rest !

After an hour we hit the road. I offered to take him as a passenger, but he doesn‘t want to leave his motorbike there. We have a few dozen kilometers left, the road disappears again to give way to big ruts.

I don’t know how he’s holding up … We’ll take two more hours to reach Humaità, where we arrive at midnight. There we will share a hotel before separating the next day. They take the Transamazonienne for 300 km before arriving home, I go to Porto Velho and then to Bolivia. In any case, this stage of the trip will remain etched in my memory … My chances of arriving were slim, but the trip often holds many surprises…

To be continued next week on Site: stay tuned !

Maxime BARAT

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