Azogues, 16-6-12

I know it's a cliché but the thing about long distance motorcycling is the highs and the lows and the last few days have been somewhat of a rollercoaster. I crossed from Peru a couple of days ago, the scenery changed instantly from desert and the road changed from long straights to windy mountain roads.

Around this time I noticed my rear suspension bottoming out much more easily than before and the first low started. About 50km from Loja, the suspension was bottomed out and wouldn't come back up. I thought the spring had gone requiring more expense and no doubt an extended wait. I found a hotel that takes bikes and went out to find a beer and an internet cafe so I could mail a mechanic in Quito that had been recommended to me.

I mailed the mechanic with my sob story and went back to the hotel to unload the bike and that's when I noticed that one of the bolts holding my rack on had sheared leaving one of the panniers firmly wedged against the axle bolt, preventing the swingarm from moving.

I was going to find a local mechanic but was up early and took a walk around town looking for replacement bolts. It did take me an hour or two to locate them (not speaking Spanish doesn't help) but I was able to remove the sheared bolt with mole grips and was able to repair the rack myself. This is when the first high started.

I took the rest of the day off to wander around Loja, a somewhat picturesque little town that looks almost Alpine. Nice cafes, nice architecture, no feckin' bars.

The only bar I could find open during the day was in the Grand Hotel with the associated price. Still, I was pleased with myself and stayed for a few cocktails.

I had a 7am start to give myself plenty of time to get to Riobamba. The day started with a slow slog over a number of 3000+ metre mountain roads. It was cold (down to 3 degrees), misty and raining. The first 100km took me 2.5 hours and I had to stop to retrieve my winter gloves from my luggage as my fingers had gone numb.

I stopped for breakfast in Ona, just a cup of Nescafe and a sandwich but I was grateful for it and my hands warmed up enough to start to enjoy the ride.

I met an Ecuadorian guy on a KTM 950 in Cuenca (Hi Freddy if you're reading this) and was generally having a great time on the twisty roads when just outside Azogues the bike packed in. It would run, everything was fine until I put it into gear and then there was a grinding sound and nothing else. “Bollocks” I thought and moved onto the second low.

I was at the top of a hill so I pushed the bike back towards town. There was a workshop where they were doing paint jobs on cars and the guys there said I was OK to leave the bike while I looked for a mechanic, they gave me some directions which I hopelessly failed to follow and ended up traipsing aimlessly around town until I could find a taxi.

We tried every moto mechanic in town that the taxi driver knew, they were all busy and/or couldn't be bothered to come and look at my bike so as a last act of desperation we found an internet cafe, I got a number for the mechanic in Quito, phoned up and started making arrangements to truck the bike there.

We went back up to where I had left the bike and I was just about to leave to find a hotel for the evening when this guy (who turned out to just be a passer by who was into dirt bikes) offered to tow me down the road to see a mechanic he knew.

I let the taxi driver go with a large tip and we towed the bike to a workshop where they repair mostly trucks. This was my first time being towed properly and it's a scary experience but at the workshop, they took the front sprocket off to find that most of the splines on the drive shaft had sheared. They were able to bodge it, by making a spacer as the splines were not evenly worn.

They fitted the spacer and a new (ish) sprocket, claimed the repair would get me to Quito and refused to take any money for the job.

I bought a round of beers for the lads at the workshop while Juan, the boss who had spent an hour making me a spacer went off and found me a hotel. He has let me keep the bike and most of my luggage at his house and he's collecting me tomorrow morning so I don't need to get a cab.

Faith in humanity restored and another job to add to the list for Quito.