May 27th - Adios, Don Quixote

I took my time driving to Santiago.  It was a warm, sunny day and I only had 100km to do.

Somehow, I managed to navigate the city and find Motoaventura Chile, at 8000 John F. Kennedy, northeast of the city center.

I had made it.

But it almost seemed like a non-event.  I went through my checklist - repack, clean my helmet, check the bike back in, calculate the damages.

The Don had suffered a bit of wear and tear.  The rear brake light had gone out completely, the front brake caliper was clogged with dirt, which meant I did the last 500km without much of a front brake, and the tires were pretty worn.  There was also a broken gas cap, my fault since I had been loopy one morning and kicked it after fueling up in Valparaiso.  I hope they fixed that on the new model GS because it is really, really annoying to kick your gas cap in the morning and realize that you just caused $200 of damage.

My trail backpack felt foreign,  too heavy.  I was making the transition from motorcycle traveler to backpacker again.  There's less anxiety, there's more camaraderie at the local hostels, but there's less adventure.  I felt like I was trading in my flying wings, or getting a desk job, or something.

That afternoon I felt triumphant.  I had driven over 7,000 miles, some of it in pretty extreme conditions, and somehow, miraculously, I didn't get anything more serious than some windburn.  Secretly, I think I was expecting worse, maybe a lot worse.  There were a couple of close calls - getting lost north of Mendoza, the fried battery in Salta... but they all turned out OK.

Letting go of the bike meant letting go of a bit of liberty, but also some of those anxieties that were sitting in the attic of my brain for the last three months.

And I felt ready to head back to family and friends, even if I wasn´t ready to stop traveling.  My biggest fear hitting the road was getting lonely, isolated - whatever you want to call it.  Somehow, that never happened.  Between hostels, Skype, and the kindness of strangers I always felt like there were kindred spirits around me.

I wonder how the feeling will change over time... I´m writing this in early June and I already miss the open road a bit.

Hanging up the helmet for the last time...