In the US driving around on dirt roads in the wilderness is usually described as overlanding. In other English speaking countries overlanding is variously defined and the best summary I can think of is “travel to foreign countries by vehicle.” I’m of the opinion that a bicycle is a vehicle in this context where walking is not. And don’t think people don’t walk the PanAmerican. The latest I saw was from a post by an acquaintance we met in Mexico years ago. Neil is still in Central America and met this guy. Is he an overlander..?
The definition of overlanding came to mind when a German camper here in the municipal campground at Malargüe I was talking to a European traveler and they explicitly said local van and camping travelers are not overlanders. We were talking on some other subject but that passing mention got me to thinking. I guess traveling your own country isn’t overlanding. Maybe.
A Victorian saying went “Travel broadens the mind,” and though I der stand and appreciate it’s intent you would be amazed how narrow some minds are that we encounter. I for instance would not lay down my life to defend the overlander definition I set out above. But I see people even in this most innocuous of pastimes, basically going for a drive, getting annoyed over the subtlest things.
Nationality is fraught with peril. Germans stick together, French stick together and Swiss stick together by language. Tell a German-Swiss they ideal German and you will see fireworks. Their dialect is a whole different language and identity. And even if you meet them in Tierra Del Fuego in the middle of absolutely nowhere they will get quite sniffy about that faux pas. I won’t make that mistake again.
I introduce myself in French to French and Swiss overlanders and the response I get is surprise to meet an American who speaks French. Granted I’m an immigrant but the US has a population of 320 million with many immigrants from all over the place. And yet…
We have met a handful of Americans on the road but not many. One notable encounter in Peru involved an American family and a German couple who nearly came to blows in the campground over their cats. Most extraordinary thing I’ve seen and we tried to stay neutral but the Americans were having none of it. We met them later nearby the border with Chile and they camped as far as they could from us.
On the beach in Argentina we saw a Promaster approaching, a vehicle we caught a glimpse of when we crossed paths on a highway in Patagonia. They drive past our wild camp slowly as you do on a track, stared at us and kept going. It turned out they were going to join the American cat family who had caught up with us and as has become a pattern parked as far away as they could. And yet they too feel the isolation.
Granted we don’t have kids and are old farts but still the cat family appears not to have forgotten their rather bad behavior in Peru. Not that we talk about it and they did ask us for help getting papers for their cat border crossing. We explain the procedure we had done for Rusty and they never spoke to us again.
Of course we have met plenty of people compatible with us whose stories I have told here and there are lots of people with whom we just don’t mesh or whose paths lead them in a different direction. That’s the nature of being a nomad. But we have seen enough weird interactions including those not involving us directly that I’m always leery of meeting overlanders.
I have to consider that I may possibly have set out on this journey being rather naive, my usual self. We cane on the PanAmerican to fulfill our curiosity and with retirement funding our trip we don’t need to chase views and fulfill expectations of an Instagram hungry audience. But I had expected more from my fellow travelers.
When we sailed Central America at the turn of the century we similarly had some odd encounters but we made life long friends too. Layne is very good at keeping in touch and just showed me pictures of a German couple we met in Peru now touring Australia in a locally purchased 4 x 4. The internet is always a curse and a blessing.
I was provoked to think these thoughts as we are now moving away, at last in my opinion, from the regular circuit. The normal route is to converge on Montevideo at the end of summer, now through May and ship your vehicle. Some store there vehicle’s planning to return in the Fall but most have jobs and families to return to. We have neither so we plan to see the bits we skipped in the way down, northern Argentina, Bolivia, Cuzco in Peru and then the back door into Brazilian Amazonia.
The idea is to drive the ghost road in dry season and explore northern Brazil while it’s cold in the south.
Whether we shall pull it off I don’t know but it’s on our minds. We try to have as few appointments as possible but the weather is always there to dictate our movements. By September it might be raining in Brazil and we don’t want to be in Amazonia then. So we aren’t really quite as free as we might appear…For me one advantage will be not having to tread delicately around all the social faux pas I fall into so easily if we are on our own.
It’s an odd business overlanding. Some days I see the advantages of sailing as espoused by Webb Chiles and his monastery of the sea but I like driving and I like seeing more than the coast. I wish I spoke German because I know there are interesting lives hidden behind a wall of shyness because English may not come easily to them and for that I am sorry.
I think we have to go to Mendoza tomorrow to be productive. I love being lazy in this campground. I have plenty of my own character defects.
