After my little salar mishap in the Atacama, I was a bit gun shy of salars; for about a week. With the multiple diesel baths now dry, I was ready to hunt the biggest salar of them all - the Salar de Uyuni in south Bolivia. We crossed from Argentina into Bolivia at the megalopolis of Tupiza. Having heard rumors of the nearly free diesel in Bolvia, our first destination was a fuel station; or more correctly described as a man with a oil drum and a hand pump.
With just enough Bolivian diesel in our tank to contaminate our fuel filter, but not enough to get us anywhere, we headed on the highway to Uyuni. Bolivia is very famous for having the World's Most Dangerous Road (near La Paz), but this is just a marketing gimmick. Actually Bolivia has ALL of the world's most dangerous road and any road you pick will be certain to be in the top 10. The distance was 250km, and the time for a bus to travel this is 12 hours. We needed to move a little faster, so we did it in 4 hours. The road was so rough, both of the big Hella lamps on the bull bar broke off.
We pulled into Uyuni in the early afternoon. The town was a sewer in many way, particularly that it was flooded with salt water. All the streets covered in salt water and floating garbage. We did spin by the high ground of the cemetery of abandoned rail locomotives where Curt lasted all of 1 minute in trying to grease my U-joints until the flies drove him inside the cab.
With just enough Bolivian diesel in our tank to contaminate our fuel filter, but not enough to get us anywhere, we headed on the highway to Uyuni. Bolivia is very famous for having the World's Most Dangerous Road (near La Paz), but this is just a marketing gimmick. Actually Bolivia has ALL of the world's most dangerous road and any road you pick will be certain to be in the top 10. The distance was 250km, and the time for a bus to travel this is 12 hours. We needed to move a little faster, so we did it in 4 hours. The road was so rough, both of the big Hella lamps on the bull bar broke off.
We pulled into Uyuni in the early afternoon. The town was a sewer in many way, particularly that it was flooded with salt water. All the streets covered in salt water and floating garbage. We did spin by the high ground of the cemetery of abandoned rail locomotives where Curt lasted all of 1 minute in trying to grease my U-joints until the flies drove him inside the cab.
By this time we were ready to see if the big salar was ready for us, so out we headed to the salt hotel on the salar. We made it to the edge of the salar, and.....we stopped. The salar was completely flooded in 40cm or more of salt water. Thinking back of how much time Curt spent on bathing me in diesel the last time, Curt refused to drive another meter onto the salar.
Well, we gave it our best shot of hunting the great beast, and like a cowardly turtle, it flooded itself rather than let it be conquered by us. So we hit another of the World's Most Dangerous Road and headed north to Potosi.
Well, we gave it our best shot of hunting the great beast, and like a cowardly turtle, it flooded itself rather than let it be conquered by us. So we hit another of the World's Most Dangerous Road and headed north to Potosi.