Unexpected excitement on the Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

PETER Hall discovers that all hands on deck are needed as an emergency arises with little warning in a remote South American wonderland.

Picture Peter Hall

WHILE crossing the world's largest salt flat, Bolivia's vast Salar de Uyuni, a crisis struck.

Doubts that this was not a serious, off-the-beaten-track expedition were gone.

A scratchy satellite phone call revealed the vehicle carrying our food and supplies had become lost and bogged somewhere in the glistening 10,582 sq km white desert.

The driver, for an unknown reason, had made a detour, entering a remote and treacherous place where simple errors can lead to disaster.

Without a GPS he was unable to relay coordinates, only convey vague descriptions of his vehicle's location using the sun and land formations.

He said he was "in front'' of the giant volcano, Tunupa, not much to go on given the imposing holy mountain of the Aymara people can be seen from every angle.

Adding to the concern was that our driver Felix's wife, the tour's cook, was aboard the stranded car.

The trek, called a travesia, was run by explora, a specialist in nomadic South American journeys of discovery.

The active, lodge-based tours are aimed at seasoned travellers, in groups of up to six, seeking thrilling new experiences in remote regions.

Our experienced guide Alvaro calmly explained the unfolding emergency.

The support vehicle was trapped in an area known as Mala Mala, or "bad bad".

It usually was avoided at all costs as the salty crust there was fragile and could give way at any time.

This was due to water run-off from the mountains creating a soft, muddy layer just beneath the surface. Cars could easily become stuck, some unable to be retrieved. In the centre of the lake the salt can be several metres thick and as hard as a national highway.

The only warning it has thinned to just centimetres is the chain of hexagonal, DNA-like patterns on its surface becoming less defined.

On the 120km-wide Salar, also the world's highest salt flat at 3665m above sea level, there is no automobile club break-down service or tow company to call for help.

The only passing traffic is the occasional tour group, or locals travelling between towns.

This was shaping as our second ordeal after two harrowing aborted takeoffs in a small aircraft operated by a Bolivian firm before linking with the tour.

Alvaro galvanised support for the unexpected search and rescue effort. There was no choice but to abandon sightseeing and hikes to collectively focus on finding and freeing our camp crew.

Our minds were racing.

If the others had fallen victim to Mala Mala, how could our larger, heavier vehicle get close enough to help? It was after lunch now, so what would happen if we did not locate them before nightfall?

Would we, too, become stuck on this immense plain? The environment was punishing: the sun and its reflection savage by day and temperature as low as minus 10C at night.

With our phone struggling to pick up a signal - ironic given the Salar's large, smooth surface is used by NASA to test and calibrate satellites - we were on our own. After almost three painstaking hours, a female member of our intrepid group spotted a stationary black dot in the distance.

A collective cheer went up, but the mission was far from over. We drove as near as we dared - a few hundred metres away - donned thick coats and gloves and trudged over the brittle crust to view the scene.

The old LandCruiser was ensnared in salty, icy mud.

Forming a human chain, we carried supplies from its trailer and roof to our van, parked in an area thought firmer.

It wasn't. To our horror, the wheels of the luxury eight-seater Ford also collapsed into the Bolivian bog.

The traditional method to free a vehicle here, in which we soon gained hands-on experience, is to dig out the wheels, pack slabs of salt around them and use engine and human power to push the car clear.

This simple and laborious process can take up to an hour a wheel.

We made a series of attempts to free our van, but suffered the frustration of seeing it escape one set of holes only to slip into another. The crunch of shovels on salt, laboured breath of exertion at high altitude and swearing in Spanish and English sounded across the white wonderland.

Stuck in the middle: The expedition's support vehicle sparks an emergency, sinking into into the salty mud in a treacherous plain known as Mala Mala or 'bad bad'. Picture: Supplied.

The bizarre operation was performed against the most magnificent of sunsets; the day's last rays filtering through the towering Andes and lingering in a purple twilight on the exceptionally flat Salar.

It was no use - the larger vehicle was a lost cause.

As the mercury fell, we raided the luggage for extra layers of clothing, whatever could be found.

Some cheese and red wine was broken out to fortify us for the night ahead.

Head torches strapped around beanies and industrial-strength lip balm reapplied, we shuffled back to the lighter support vehicle. Perhaps it could be freed.

The traditional technique brought no success, but an idea from our group of tourists provided the breakthrough.

We noticed the rear of the 4WD had a timber floor protector, which we suggested could be cut and used to make ramps.The inspiration came from similar rescues experienced during beach drives in Australia. After some initial reluctance, the concept was embraced and caused an eruption of elation as the car rolled clear.

What followed was a frenetic ferrying of people, food and baggage to higher ground off the lake in our only operational vehicle.

After another jabbering bilingual "workshop", we somehow found a way to accommodate 10 passengers and all the supplies.

There was a standout choice for who would stay behind with the still-stranded van - the wayward driver whose actions led to the drama.

He would have to wait until we sent help the following day.

It was almost midnight, about 10 hours after receiving the SOS. It would be another two on bone-jarring dirt tracks before we reached our next camp at Chituca.

On this eight-day travesia, we would enjoy amazing food and wine, climb the salt flat's highest island and be captivated by the raw beauty of the Altiplano, or high plain.

We would visit a sacred tomb housing 1000-year-old mummies enshrined with blankets, pottery and tools to make textiles in the afterlife.

There were strolls alongside herds of elegant llamas and their wild cousins, the vicuñas, and pools pink with flamingoes.

Llamas grazing. Picture: Supplied.

We met many warm and wonderful people, including the passionate Don Santos who created a museum at Chantani to showcase historic and culturally significant relics from the area.

We also would bask in the warmth of the sun at explora's property, Hotel de Larache, in Chile, enjoying breathtaking hikes and bike and horse rides around the oasis of San Pedro de Atacama.

But this moment, cramped together munching the last of the chocolate bars and sweets, recounting the scare on the Salar and bouncing from one adventure to another would be the most memorable.

We would discover that laughter comes easily at altitude, giving an audience to even the lamest jokes.

The spirit of travesia is not to follow the path of traditional tourism. It doesn't impose itineraries, encourages greater flexibility and calls to those who want to "do" rather than just see the scenery.

The idea is that the final destination is not as important, or fulfilling, as the journey. For us, this was certainly the case.

The writer was a guest of explora and LAN Airlines.

GO2 SOUTH AMERICA

Getting there

LAN Airlines operates six one-stop flights per week from Sydney to Santiago, Chile, with onward connections to La Paz, Bolivia. LAN also offers three nonstop flights per week from Sydney to Santiago in a codeshare partnership with Qantas. For more information or to make a booking contact travel agents, call LAN reservations on 1800 558 129, or visit www.lan.com.

Doing there

The explora travesia from Uyuni in Bolivia to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile is a thrilling eight-day program between April and December. Priced from $5580 a person, twin share, it includes four nights' accommodation at explora campsites in Bolivia, three nights' accommodation at explora Atacama, meals, wine and soft drinks, activities and explorations with English-speaking naturalist guides and transfers. Recommended for active persons over 18.