BMW Adventure In Uruguay on F 900 GS and F 850 GS Trophy

September 4, 2025

What do motorcycle journalists do for vacation? After spending a year flying back and forth between America and Europe to test the latest bikes, you might think all we want to do is lie on a beach and sleep. Well, the internet never sleeps, so our vacation had to include motorcycle riding—and it did.

The order of business was figuring out where we wanted to go. We could take a local trip, but it gets cold in December—even in California. That ruled out most of the rideable Northern Hemisphere, so we directed our attention southward.

Realizing that neither of us had been to South America, it seemed like a continent worth investigating. While we ride motorcycles for a living, we are relatively cautious by nature, and certainly not as adventurous as Associate Editor Freeman Wood’s notorious Safety Third Gang. We don’t want to visit a country where we could be victims of crime, as putting loved ones in the position of paying ransom to get us back from kidnappers or a corrupt “legal” system was an outcome we wanted to avoid.

With that in mind, we went to DuckDuckGo and started researching safe destinations. One city was reliably placed at the top of various “Safest Cities in South America” lists: Montevideo, Uruguay.

Although we certainly have heard of Uruguay—Kelly has a degree in Geography from UCLA, after all—we had to pull up a map of South America to determine exactly where it was. It’s easy for a Norteamericano to get the exact locations of Paraguay, Bolivia, Peru, and Uruguay mixed up. We had vaguely heard of Montevideo and discovered that it was located on the Atlantic Ocean coast, serving as the capital and largest city in Uruguay.

Further research indicated a vast network of rural dirt roads—including highways— along with rolling hills and some nearby mountains. This is looking good, and adventure bikes are the natural mounts of choice. If we couldn’t get appropriate motorcycles to ride, this “vacation” was not going to happen.

Inquiries were made, and we settled on BMW. BMW has a strong international presence, which is one reason you see so many of the 100-year-old German marque’s bikes in globetrotting stories. BMW Motorrad in Montevideo offered us our choice of a BMW R 1300 GS, F 900 GS, and F 800 GS.

The roads and distances didn’t require the muscle of the boxer, so we went with the 900 and 800–not a bad his-and-hers pairing for exploring the interior of Uruguay.

Before we set off to the hinterlands of Uruguay, it’s worth noting that Montevideo is, indeed, a wonderful and welcoming city to visit. We stayed at the Alma Historic Boutique Hotel on the lush Plaza Zabala, in the Ciudad Vieja (Old City) neighborhood by the docks.

Alma Historic Boutique Hotel features rooms that are decorated to celebrate a different figure in Uruguayan history. Poet Susana Soca was the subject of our room, which featured a period writing table with candlestick holders. Renowned in Paris, where she lived from 1938 to 1948, Picasso painted a portrait of Soca.

Our room had a view of Plaza Zabala, from which you could see the Atlantic Ocean on the rooftop deck, and the concierge service was invaluable.

From there, we had easy bus access to all of Montevideo. We took advantage of that by hopping on random Sistema de Transporte Metropolitano buses and taking them wherever they went. The 56-Uruguayan-peso ($1.50 USD) bus rides are an adventure, with well-received street performers boarding to entertain riders. A troubadour and a magician both received rousing ovations for their efforts on our bus rides.

We visited neighborhoods of all economic strata, and never felt uncomfortable. People smiled and waved everywhere. The vibe was always upbeat, during the day and late at night. Montevideanos who didn’t speak English did their best to help us whenever Kelly’s Duolingo Spanish wasn’t working.

If you’re a vegan, Uruguay probably isn’t for you. Meals in Uruguay are about meat, cheese, eggs, bread, pizza, and more meat. The smallest hamburger seems to be a half-pound, and there’s not enough cheese on it until the burger is completely obscured. Steaks are huge and delicious. Kelly ordered a ribeye at Puerto Marino in the Mercado del Puerto and was served two delicious steaks.

The best meal of our stay was at Parrillada Mojo, a short walk from our hotel. The servers treated us like family, and the carnes a las brasas were nothing short of incredible.

After each meal, we were left with extensive leftovers. Street dogs are common in Ciudad Vieja, so we delivered feasts to deserving mutts. While there are many dogs, none of them are threatening, and some are actively friendly.

Motorcycles are another prominent feature of Montevideo’s vibrant urban landscape. Everywhere you look, a 125 with an unfamiliar Chinese brand name is either being ridden or parked in groups. Motorcycles are used primarily for delivery work and personal transportation. Japanese or European motorcycles are infrequently spotted, though we did see a Honda Navi, Husqvarna Svartpilen 250, KTM 200 (RC and Duke), and Royal Enfield Super Meteor 650.

After a few days of exploring Montevideo, it was time to go riding. We had hoped to base ourselves at the Alma Hotel for our entire stay in Uruguay. However, they were unable to assure us that we would have a secure place to store the conspicuous BMW GSes that we were picking up at BMW Motorrad Uruguay on the east side of town.

We ended up booking a room at the quite nice Hampton by Hilton Montevideo Carrasco next to the airport, though it turned out that there were numerous secure garages in Ciudad Vieja that we could have used. We flew home at the end of our second day riding, as flights between Miami and Montevideo depart at about midnight in both directions, allowing us to clean up for the flight home.

We were warmly greeted by Matias Zabaleta at BMW Motorrad Uruguay, which is an appropriately luxurious facility just two miles from the Hampton. The 2025 BMW F 900 GS was ready to go. However, last year’s F 850 GS Trophy was substituted for the F 800 GS. No problem—comparing last year’s 850 to the new 900 is a perfectly respectable story angle.

As Don had spent plenty of time poring over maps, we decided not to mount our iPhones to use GPS to navigate. We had a basic idea of a route each day—nothing set in stone—and decided to let nature take its course. It really didn’t matter which route we took. We were in Uruguay, so wherever we went was going to be an adventure. Leaving it somewhat to chance enhanced that aspect.

Our first day’s plan was a clockwise loop that would take us to Minas. Other than the major highways, most roads in the Uruguayan backcountry are dirt, which is why we chose GSes to ride. We didn’t want to be restricted to just a few roads.

All was well as we headed north. However, we noticed one thing right away as soon as we got out of metropolitan Montevideo. While there are a few directional signs here and there, almost none of the intersections have any markings at all. Even on Google Maps, many roads are unnamed. You’re on your own if you’re not a local, and we weren’t locals.

That wasn’t really a problem, as Don has a photographic memory when it comes to maps, and it really didn’t matter if we got lost. We still had our iPhones, so getting back to the Hampton at the Montevideo Airport was always going to be doable. Eventually, we found ourselves off the pavement, enjoying the sights of rural Uruguay.

When we made our first stop at the intersection of Rutas 7 and 81—paved secondary roads—we had already made a wrong turn at a dirt intersection without realizing it.

We stopped for water, as it was a warm late-spring day. Montevideo is as far south of the equator as Los Angeles is north, so the weather was familiar. For our entire two-day ride, temperatures ranged from mid-70s to about 90—perfect for riding.

The small local market on the roadside gave us an idea of how much things had changed from Montevideo. Upon removing her helmet, the ladies behind the counter were thrilled to see that strawberry-blonde Kelly was one of the GS riders. A broken Spanish conversation ensued, and they all went out to the parking lot to get pictures of themselves with Kelly and the F 850 GS Trophy. While they were used to seeing women of all ages on the Chinese 125s, this was something altogether different.

This turned out to be a recurring theme. Wherever we went, Kelly drew lots of attention. Don? Not so much.

When we left the store, we unknowingly continued in the wrong direction. We rode through San Bautista, and Don hadn’t put two and two together. San Bautista (population 2,263) was one of the larger rural towns we had planned to visit. However, Don didn’t realize it was on our rough Day 2 route, not Day 1.

It wasn’t until we had taken Ruta 81 to Santa Lucía that we realized we had been headed in exactly the wrong direction. Santa Lucía is a 250-year-old city on the Rio Santa Lucía. With a population of 17,381, it stood out more to Don as somewhere we were going to go on the second day of riding. Don, who is not used to making wrong turns, couldn’t figure out how that happened, but there we were.

It wasn’t a big deal, and we simply turned Day 2 into Day 1. However, as we left, we were anticipating heading toward Sauce, one of our most anticipated waypoints. We were captivated by the name, and learned that it is pronounced saw-seh.

Instead, we went in the wrong direction yet again, without knowing it.

When we hit Ruta 5—a national highway—Kelly persuaded Don to stop and check the GPS. It told us to turn right off Ruta 81, which seemed wrong, but we didn’t argue with the electronics.

Yet another wrong turn at the intersection of Ruta 5 and 81 wasn’t discovered until Ruta 64. A proper turn sent us to Sauce via Canelones—the capital city of Canelones Department, and home to 24,185 people.

After a run through the Canelones, we made a correct turn, and Ruta 107 took us to Sauce in less than half an hour.

A couple of spins around Plaza Artigas, where we drew considerable attention to the local pibe en motos on 125s, we stopped at Los Amigos restaurant. It does triple duty as a pizzería, hamburguesería, and chivitería (the latter being the national sandwich of Uruguay).

As earlier, when Kelly removed her helmet, there was considerable commotion—not who they expected to be riding an exotic adventure bike in Sauce.

Outside, the moto boys had surrounded the BMW F 900 GS and F 850 GS Trophy. We went outside to greet them and supervised them as they hopped on the bikes for photos. Smiles were broad, and it was clear that these motorcycles were something they had never seen in person. Close examination and exclamations between them were exchanged.

Not realizing the significance of chivitos, we ordered hamburguesas and papas fritas. As expected, the burgers were huge and delicious. We hadn’t eaten for a while, so the large portion did not go to waste. We also ate every French fry.

While we were eating lunch and relaxing, Don realized something—two things were confusing his sense of direction. Being in the southern hemisphere, the sun’s position is reversed, as is the subtle effect of the magnetic pole. When Don was sensing north, he was, in reality, sensing south—a big difference. This had also caused problems when walking around Montevideo, where we would get inexplicably turned around. He needed to learn the phrase, ¿Hacia dónde está el norte? Which way is north?

Armed with this understanding, whenever Don sensed north, he flipped it over in his head south. It was a bit awkward, but it worked, and the misdirections ended.

Bellies filled, we rode back to the Hampton by Hilton Montevideo Carrasco. There, they let us park the BMWs in the porte-cochère, where there would always be eyes on them. That allowed us to enjoy a fine meal at the hotel’s Los Lagos restaurant and a sound night’s sleep after a 170-mile ride over six hours in warm temperatures.

Our ride revealed plenty about the Uruguayan backcountry to us:

While we had been warned that the police strictly enforce speed limit laws, we discovered that this was only in urban areas. Out in the sticks, there was no law enforcement presence, so we rode at whatever speed we liked.

There’s not much in the way of elevation change or corners. It’s pretty much flat and featureless, with roads connecting in straight lines.

Because the dirt roads are important transportation arteries, they are in good condition. Whenever we ended up on one, we didn’t worry about how difficult it would get.

Cell service is ubiquitous. No matter where we went, we had a strong signal. That gives you the freedom to get “lost” without worry.

Roundabouts are plentiful. They’re signed as Rotonda, which we would say out loud in a deep voice to each other via the Sena Packtalk Pro helmet intercoms every time we approached one.

Every single town, village, hamlet, and business is interesting. When you’re in a dramatically different country, these are all worth seeing. Uruguay is no exception.

You won’t hear much English in Montevideo, and even less in the outlying areas. Come prepared with some Spanish or a good smartphone translator.

The two BMWs were perfect. On pavement, they’re smooth with plenty of power for any conditions. On the dirt, they were predictable and manageable, even with stock tires. Given the roads, there were no challenges to either bikes’ handling or suspension.

Kelly’s Klim gear was a bit warm, even with the extensive vending. Don’s Alpinestars jacket was ideal. The AMT-10R Drystar XF has a removable upper jacket, so he had mesh flow along with leather protection. Don’s Roadskin Cargo trousers were convenient, and the Klim and Alpinestars gloves flowed plenty of air. Kelly was happy with her Sidi boots, as was Don with his TCX footwear. The Arai XD-5s and Cardo mesh intercoms worked flawlessly, though the faceshields required frequent cleaning due to it being bug season.

Day 2 sent us to Minas and offered much more varied terrain. Kelly took the reins of the BMW F 900 GS, with Don demoted to the F 850 GS Trophy.

We started on Ruta Interbalnearia General Líber Seregni, named after a prominent pro-democracy military leader and politician who opposed military dictatorship. He would undoubtedly be disappointed to see the strict law enforcement on IB, as it is known locally, along with frequent speed traps. This is a road to avoid, if possible.

We exited after crossing Arroyo Solís, just east of the Jaureguiberry resort town. We immediately fell back into the adventure mood, as the rural atmosphere returned and the Sierra de las Ánimas mountain range beckoned.

Turning onto Camino de las Ánimas, we weren’t expecting to see pavement for the next 30 miles—and we didn’t. However, the route didn’t go as expected, though not because Don sent us off in the wrong direction.

We were expecting to turn right onto Camino Abra de Castellanos for a promisingly scenic, and sometimes technical, dirt road to Ruta 60. When we got there, a large military medical vehicle was parked there. We were stopped by the military and told the road was closed due to activity at Área B Polígono de Armas Individuales (Area B Individual Firearms Range).

With that option off the table, we continued north on Camino Por Arroyo Aguas Blancas, which offered plenty of sightseeing opportunities as it wound through ranches. We turned right at Ruta 81, which we had ridden the day before. This portion of Ruta 81 is dirt and also quite scenic.

Our elevation rose as we entered Parque Nacional de Aguas Blancas, which is in the Sierra del Abra de Zabaleta subrange of the Sierra de las Ánimas. This was a highlight of our time in Uruguay, as the dirt road had a few minor challenges and plenty of natural beauty.

Ruta 81 terminates at Ruta 60, where we headed north on pavement. Ruta 60 has a few legit mountain sweepers where we hit triple-digit mph speeds as we dropped into Minas. It was the sportiest stretch on our two-day ride and a welcome change of pace.

Entering Minas from the south is a treat, as you cross Arroyo San Francisco on the nearly century-old Puente Otegiu, an arch bridge. We explored Minas, which has an urban feel, despite its population being fewer than 40,000 people. There was some poverty we hadn’t seen elsewhere in Uruguay, though everyone was friendly and waved at the two gringos on German motorcycles. We rode up to the hilltop Cementario Central, which provides an expansive view of the area.

After an unsuccessful attempt to find a place to park the GSes where we could watch them as we ate at one of the restaurants surrounding Plaza Libertad, we spotted a place on Ruta 8 as we were leaving downtown. Parador-Resto-Bar, colloquially known as La Galponera, is an upscale restaurant, yet we were welcomed in our ADV gear. While we were there, a guy on a Triumph Tiger 1200 pulled up—quite the surprise. It was hamburguesas and papas fritas again, though we would have ordered something more exotic had it been dinnertime.

Over lunch, we discussed the two BMWs. Don asked Kelly if she wanted to switch back to the 850 from the 900 for the rest of the ride. That was met by a dismissive shake of the head. The 900 offers superior ergonomics, chassis, and power. There’s simply no comparison, making the F 900 GS a decisive step forward in the BMW lineup for mid-size GSes.

The downhill ride back to BMW Motorrad Uruguay from Minas was uneventful. We took Ruta 8 the entire way, and it became more and more of a major highway the closer we got to Montevideo. The towns Solís de Mataojo and Soca broke up the ride as the highway went through the small-town business districts. We stopped at a delightful roadside shack for a couple of bottles of water.

The eventual transformation from a two-lane rural route to a divided highway makes the ride more relaxing.

The closer we got to BMW Motorrad Uruguay, the more Don realized he couldn’t quite navigate there by memory. He pulled out his iPhone and put it on the 850’s mount. Waze directed us there without a hitch, and a few twists and turns justified its implementation.

We returned the BMW F 900 GS and F 850 GS Trophy unscathed. Neither bike had been dropped and only required a dusting. We snuck in just before closing after a 170-mile ride, so Matias was surely relieved on all fronts.

Our experience in Montevideo and our Uruguayan adventure reminded us of the importance of travel. While Uruguay may not be the most scenic or exotic of riding destinations, you’re still in South America, and almost everything is different from what you have at home, including your sense of north. The people of Uruguay are wonderful and welcoming, making everywhere you go something special.

Photography by Kelly Callan and Don Williams

RIDING STYLE: Kelly