Chummy on the Rocks

Sunday, February 8th: The day started innocently enough: A bit more ripio to cover before reaching Bajo Caracoles, a windswept blip of civilisation in an otherwise austere Patagonian desert. All was going well as we found ourselves on freshly graded ripio from time to time, in anticipation of asphalt (which will surely change the character of this famous route). The only contentious element was the fierce wind, which often slowed us down to a crawl and also forced us to seek shelter under the alcove of an abandoned roadside hotel--the only building for miles and miles--to brew up a pot of coffee. Within striking distance of our final destination, however, the Chummy suddenly skidded on its front axle, coming to a grinding halt. What had happened? With a sinking feeling, we looked around the front of the car to see the right wheel lying almost flat under the car, with the front suspension having taken the full force of the nose dive into the hard ripio rocks. We were done for---or so we thought. In short time, the calvary arrived, and, with the aid of everyone pitching in, we were able to pick up the pieces (literally) that had fallen off the car and put "Chummy Dumpty" back together again. The king pin had somehow worked its way out from the suspension, causing the near-disaster. Vince commented that this was apparently a fluke, but we checked the rest of the nuts and bolts, just in case, and slowly limped to our hotel, still smarting.