Monday, Jun. 01, 2009

Wallula dad and his Pasco sons back from 12,000-mile motorcycle odyssey

By John Trumbo, Herald staff writer

Riding a motorcycle 12,200 miles in 56 days is tough, but making it climb 800 feet higher than Mount Rainier is pushing the limit.

By the time they reached the end of the road May 4, Wallula resident Chuck Glessner and his sons Nathan and Jonathan, both of Pasco, had ridden through Mexico, Central America and South America to nearly the tip of the continent -- 15 countries in all.

Each man, saddled atop a 2008 650cc Kawasaki KLR, endured tortuous miles of muddy roads, blistering sun-baked salt playas and drenching humidity.

They learned to negotiate with corrupt highway cops, share the road with alpacas and locals riding donkeys, avoid bed-bug infested hotels and stay out of areas controlled by drug lords.

The trip was a success, Chuck Glessner said, because they had no mechanical breakdowns, no mishaps and met plenty of friendly people.

The road trip began with an idea from son Jonathan, 31, who offered to lead them on a motorcycle odyssey from Alaska to where Chile's southernmost point dips into the Scotia Sea.

"I have a job. I couldn't get that much time off," said Chuck, 58.

So the boys then suggested they have their motorcycles shipped from Seattle to Buenos Aires, where they'd drive to the tip of South America, then double back to home in the Tri-Cities. A glitch in the Seattle connection forced them to ship the motorcycles to Austin, Texas, which became the new point of departure.

Easy riding soon turned uneasy when the Glessners met military trucks packed with soldiers searching for drug lords. "I can tell you, they weren't waving," Chuck said.

Later, the motorcyclists met state police who were quick to pull them over for such alleged infractions as driving too slowly or driving with lights on during the day. And border crossings in Central America always required a passport and cash donation.

"It's a risk. They've got the guns. We don't. They can arrest you," Chuck said.

And not being fluent in Spanish made it more difficult to negotiate fines, he said. But Jonathan had enough travel experience to explain their way out of most situations, his father said. Escaping corruption and 100-degree heat in Mexico and Central America, the Glessners took a boat from Panama to Bogota, Columbia, where the real road test began.

Traveling light with only a few tools -- including just one spare tire among them -- and as few personal necessities as possible, the trio averaged 218 miles a day. They spent most nights on a bed, but not always on one that was fresh and clean, much less bug-free.

"One place the bed sheets were greasy," Nathan, 34, said. And there were so many fleas he didn't dare put down his sleeping bag.

As experienced motorcyclists, they outfitted themselves and their machines for hard travel. Heavy shock absorbers, waterproof boots, helmets and rugged overclothes were de riguer. A wireless notebook and digital camera were essential, while clothing was minimal. Two pair of pants, three T-shirts, three sets of shorts and socks for each had to suffice. Every night was laundry night, Chuck said.

While some frowned on them as being gringos, Chuck said most South Americans warmed up when they learned that he was papa and his sons were hermanos.

"Columbia was really pretty and the people there were very friendly," Nathan said.

But nothing compared to what the three men met in Ecuador. A 28-year-old man on a hard-ridden motorcycle joined them, saying he was on his way home after having covered 18,000 miles, encircling the entire continent. They followed him for a couple of days until reaching Ambato, and a grand homecoming attended by hundreds of fans.

"About 40 of his buddies came out to ride with him. The whole town had a party. There was a full band, and a plaque. They were the nicest, kindest people," Chuck said.

He and his sons spent the night at an estate belonging to the rider's father, who owned several radio stations in Ecuador. "His mother, who had prayed for her son every night while he was gone, lit a candle for us when we left," Chuck said.

Then the going got tougher.

Unable to speak Spanish to get good directions, the Glessners rode into a Peruvian village that had been wiped out by a landslide. They had to double back about 300 miles to find another route south.

Bolivia challenged them with hundreds of miles of salt flats, so vast that Jonathan said the horizon fell away. And then there was the famed road of death, so called because it was chiseled into near vertical cliffs. Hundreds of vehicles have fallen over the edge while trying to negotiate the narrow and twisting path.

Hundreds of digital pictures show where the road warriors found their way, up and down hairpin switchbacks, crossing crudely constructed bridges with timbers splitting from age and weight and urging their motorcycles over the Andes at elevations nearly undriveable for lack of oxygen to fuel carburetors.

The riders reached 15,234 feet on their machines before heading downhill -- that is 823 higher than the top of Mount Rainier.

The quest for the far end of the compass needle ended at Cochrane, Chile. Still hundreds of miles short of the tip, they'd run out of time. But they'd biked in Patagonia and seen the ruggedness of Argentina with glaciers at 2,000 feet elevation.

Turning north, they reached Santiago in time to load their motorcycles into a container that would take the bikes to Seattle, where it would transfer to a barge destined for Umatilla.

Chuck said they expect to see their machines this week, a month after flying out of Santiago on May 4.

"It was pretty fun. When a father can take his two adult boys and be together for two months, through trials and experiences, it's a pretty good deal," he said. "It was pretty cool."