Carretera Austral, part I - beauty that doesn't come cheap

(text written in Villa Manihuales on Pi Day – 3.14; I’ve just found some time to upload it)

My path in the last 10 days: El Chalten, Tres Lagos, Perito Moreno, Chile Chico, Puerto Guadal, Puerto Rio Tranquilo, Villa Cerro Castillo, Coyhaique and now Villa Manihuales.

I am now in the Casa de Ciclistas. It is a private house of a man who happily hosts cyclists for free – quite a hard to believe thing nowadays. I needed a mental break and this is a perfect place to do it. Today I really do pretty much nothing – I’ve read newspaper on the square (I’m still carrying a Christmas issue of Gazeta Wyborcza which I never read and am now slowly finishing all the long articles and enjoying every single sentence of them; not much is left now) and now I have half a day to write this text. I may watch a film tonight (I watched one yesterday for the first time on my trip). Maybe there will be another cyclist arriving today to the Casa. We’ll see. The important thing is that I really needed a day like today and that I am enjoying it and the weather is good.

Back to where I finished last time – El Chalten.

The day I was leaving was pretty bad. It started raining 30 min before I planned to leave. Luckily when I looked to the east – the direction I was going to go – I could see blue sky. It was drizzling when I was leaving but stopped 10 min later. The wind was very strong but finally pushing me this time. The first 55km I did in 1.5h with average speed of 36km/h. I could hardly believe it! I also managed then to beat my speed record – 73.77km/h. Sounds very fast but in fact it didn’t feel that way on a bike. After 55km the wind all of a sudden changed 180 degrees. How is that possible I don’t know but I discovered I was again going against the wind. The wind then kept changing but eventually on my last 20 or 25km I had very strong head wind.

My final destination for that day was Tres Lagos. As I saw many road signs for Tres Lagos and as it was well marked on the maps I thought it would be a reasonable town. In fact it was a ghost town with wind going through the empty ripio streets. I didn’t expect to find a campsite there but there was one. They wanted 80 pesos from me. I was shocked as I was paying 25 in El Calafate and 30 in El Chalten. It turned out that they only had a price for 4 people and that it included barbecue access too. That was ridiculous and I refused to pay 80 pesos. In the end I found a hostel for 60 pesos which was very clean and heated almost too well plus I was the only person there. Strangely enough I also found a comedor and had dinner with some drivers or men working for a local transport or building company (they didn’t pay for the meals).  I fell asleep at 10pm – it was a tough day (and longest so far with 127km) and I was a bit scared of the next day and an idea of trying to hitchhike north with a bike.

Ruta 40 continues north from Tres Lagos but it is only paved up to there. It’s all ripio further north for 200km and pretty much nothing there, no towns, no water, just steppe and strong wind. The next day I spent 3.5h waiting in the wind at the end of the town hoping for a ride. Maybe 6 cars passed by, one of them was a pick-up. I was really losing any hope of getting out of that town. Then I noticed two backpackers who just got there and were also trying to get a ride in my direction. I went to see them – they turned out to be two Israeli guys staying at the same hostel/campsite in El Chalten as me. We were still talking when a pick-up came. The driver stopped. It was 2 guys from Buenos Aires more less my age and they were happy to take backpackers. I asked if there was any chance I could possibly go too. First their reaction was that it would be impossible with a bike but then we decided to see if it fits at the back too. In the end it was us three, most of our bags and a bike all at the back driving really fast through dry and windswept Ruta 40. Big stones were flying 10m up in the air behind the car catapulted by the wheels, we were getting slowly covered in dust but it was sunny and I couldn’t believe my luck. Fernando and Horazio first wanted to go to Bajo Caracoles (over 300km north) but then changed their mind and went another 120km to Perito Moreno. We left Tres Lagos before 3pm and got to Perito Moreno just before 10pm. My ass was very sore, there was not enough space at the back of the car to stretch my legs and as soon as the sun disappeared it became really cold. Nevertheless I was very happy. We all got a cabaña (a cabin) for a night, the Israeli guys cooked pasta for all of us for dinner (it needed to be kosher) and I woke up not far from where I wanted to cross the border and start my Chilean adventure.  

All 4 guys carried on north and I went west to Los Antiguos. I had 60km but the wind was just ridiculous so I again stuck my thumb up. Pretty quickly I found a man who wanted to take me to Los Antiguos. When I got there all the worries of previous days faded away. It was sunny, it was midday, I only needed to cross the border and get to Chile Chico which was meant to be not more than 10km away.

Los Antiguos sits by Lago Buenos Aires. It is a massive lake that stretches across the border. In Chile the same lake is called Lago General Carrera (bigger part of the lake belongs to Chile). The lake is the second biggest in South America and now I can say that it is equally pretty to Titicaca.

Just before I got to Chilean border crossing I decided to eat my banana as I knew I would not be able to bring any fruits to Chile (plus some other things). I had an orange on me too but telling from experience of previous border crossings and looking at how they treat cyclists I was not worried. I was wrong. I had to take all my bags through a scanner and then the guy asked me to open every single one of them and I had to show him all my food. He was nice and I wasn’t pissed off as I knew the rules. However he could have taken a more relaxed approach. Anyway, he found pate, cheese and this orange and told me I couldn’t take it. I can either throw it away or eat it now. Well ok, let’s have lunch now. He put all the bread he found in my bags aside for me (I could take bread across the border but needed it for my lunch!) and I sat down at the very middle of the border crossing preparing my lunch. I was watching other people pass by, saw a cyclist (a local guy) who just wanted to pass without any control so he didn’t even stop (he was shouted at and came back and went  through all the formalities in the end). I was also talking a bit with customs officers. For some reason they all seem to know old Polish football team and remember Lato very well. It looks like on every Chilean border crossing there is one officer who is extremely friendly and helpful. This time it was a guy who looking at me eating my lunch and drinking water brought his mug and poured sweet tea from his flask for me. That was super kind. As I needed to eat lunch anyway I took the whole thing pretty cool and didn’t hold it against this officer who made me eat my pate on the border.

Just before entering Chile Chico I came across a first barricade on the road. Burning tyres, guys sitting around with some flags and banners, a line of cars waiting. I simply asked if I could get through and I was allowed. Cool, I thought. I was still happy cycling along a tree lined road towards the centre of the town. But then when already on the main street I noticed that most shops were closed, restaurants were closed, tourist information was closed. I started wondering if it was a good idea to come here at all. I stopped by the tourist info where a lot of people gathered with flags. Two old men told me it was closed for good but I could go to the local council and get some info and maybe maps too. The guy there couldn’t really help me but printed a map of the area for me (the problem was that it was the size of a postcard and covered some 600km or so so pretty useless). He also told me the ferry across the lake was not operating because of the protests and wouldn't be for at least some time.

Great… I was really not sure what to do. The only option for me was to cycle around the lake. 400km to Coyhaique instead of 120km (300km of ripio instead of none or maybe 20). I felt I got trapped and abandoned by everyone and everything. On the campsite they told me I was the first cyclist there in some time. Perfect, even better. But well, if I am cursed so be it, I need to carry on whether I like it or not. I somehow blocked all the bad info and decided to worry about it later. I went back to the town in search for a restaurant. After some time I found one working and had great chicken with salad. Next day in the morning I went to a local ‘supermarket’, got bread, polenta, oats, dulce de leche and a can of seafood for dinner (there was not much else there available). Another barricade at the other end of the town (no problem to pass it) and I was on the road again. Straight on pushing my bike up as it was too steep to cycle. After short time I realised it would be a very hard day. The wind was horrible and obviously blowing in the opposite direction. I was told before the road for some 80km or so was pretty tough – that there were some big climbs there. With a massive relief I discovered that ripio on Chilean side was actually pretty ok – there were some stretches of compact dirt with no stones and it was almost as smooth as tarmac. However the wind and climbs were just mental. I was fighting with myself whether I should start trying to stop someone and get a lift or not. The problem was that there were really hardly any cars on the road. The views were spectacular though. Huge lake with turquoise water, mountains everywhere, some covered with snow (I could see small glaciers on some of them), rock formations of various shapes (it was still pretty dry and desert-like there like on Argentinean side). The climbs and the wind became ridiculous, I was sometimes not able to ride on the flat, I had to stop pushing the bike up as I had no strength to do it against the wind. I wasn’t sure if I should just start laughing sickly at it all or maybe start crying. The kilometres were though slowly passing by. I was told by the owner of a campsite in Chile Chico about a campsite after the only village I would pass on that day. I passed that village and found a campsite but it looked pretty bad. I decided I might as well camp somewhere in the wild so I carried on. I was also not sure if this was the one this guy was talking about. It was 5.30pm so I gave myself another hour. Another hour passed and nothing. I was then in pretty inhospitable terrain – rocks, no space for a tent, crazy wind. I simply had to carry on. I decided that if I didn’t find anything by 7pm (something flat, protected and with a stream next to it so I can refill my bottles) I would just camp anywhere reasonable and will somehow survive with the water I had. And then a miracle happened – literally at 7pm I got to the campsite I was originally told about. One lonely house hidden between rocks, some grass to pitch a tent, a very friendly and kind old man showing me around. Shower with cold water, flush in the toilet doesn’t work but just fill the bucket and flush the toilet this way, you can camp here, you can just move your bike here, this is a table you can use for eating and cooking. The water is pure from the mountains above us, you see, there is a stream it comes from. Great! I was the luckiest man on earth. I couldn’t believe I did 62km on that day. I also couldn’t believe my average speed throughout the day – 9.4km/h. That was just ridiculous. I still don’t know where I found the strength, both physical but also mental, to do it. As I was still feeling pretty warm after riding I washed myself in cold water (no proper shower though – I was not so desperate) and started cooking. My new gourmet recipe is: boil water, add instant soup; then use this liquid to prepare polenta (so it has some flavour), then add clams from a can and another can of pea. Mix it all and enjoy! (if you can find tuna get rid of the clams). Almost a litre of such a delicacy filled me up but obviously I had cookies for dessert and all washed down with almost a litre of tea.

The next day in the morning I was eating breakfast and the owner came to me to have a chat. He offered me mate and I gladly accepted it - my first mate with a random person. I offered him some of my tea (to a native speaker it could possibly sound silly but I loved the way he was referring to those drinks: tea was tesito and mate was matesito). When I went to his house to pay for the night he told me he had a small present for me – a slice of dried beef (sort of a thin dried steak). Great, I will have it for lunch (it was so hard that even my pocket knife had problems with it).

On that day I still had some 10km of very strong wind and vertical climbs. Luckily the owner and his 2 kids were driving their pick-up in the same direction and they found me on the road pushing my bike up and gave me a lift of 4-5km up the steepest hill. Then it was all down into the flattish, green, foresty and agricultural land where there was not much wind. The weather was perfect, the trees smelled great, the wind stopped interrupting me – riding was great. The road however became more challenging with deep washboard. I passed a little town, bought a packet of cookies, ice-cream and coca cola for lunch (there was nothing more there), sat down on a bench in front of the shop overlooking forest and just enjoyed life as it was at that good moment.

I got to Puerto Guadal that afternoon and decided to camp at the campsite called Un Destino No Turistico (Not Touristic Destination) – as recommended by the person in Chile Chico. All fine but this campsite was 1.5km up a steep road outside the town. I was swearing and sweating when pushing my bike up. Plus was angry that they were playing with me – on the main road the sign told 1km. Then after 1km I got to another sign 200m (even steeper and it was already more a path than a road) and then yet another 150m. Anyway it was worth it – it was a really cool place totally eco-crazy. The woman who I found there and who showed me around was the most positive person I’ve met on my trip so far. They compost organic leftovers from the kitchen (so I was even putting mint leaves aside I had used to make tea – provided for free to campers!), recycle grey water, use solar lamps around the property, have two ‘solar’ showers (I thought it would be water heated by solar panels but it was just a big tank of water which on sunny days would be warmed up by the sun). They were offering talks about all eco stuff, organising hikes in the area to meet locals, see how they live, get some food from them. The only problem was that you had to pay relatively a lot for all that. Plus you also had to pay extra for a normal shower – I was lucky, the day was sunny so I used the ‘solar’ one. I was again a first cyclist there in a while. I was thinking about staying for an extra day but the weather was perfect and I was told it would get worse in a few days so I decided to use a nice day for cycling. On that evening I found the only as it seemed to me restaurant that was open (there is one restaurant open there, just go there; oh no, this one is closed but the one over there is open; oh no, this one is not open at all but just ask there..).  Sorry, we don’t have anything to eat anymore… Oh actually ok but it’s only chicken. Whatever! I eat anything! In that restaurant I was taking notes on my map from a big map from the wall. The owner then went at the back of her restaurant/house and brought that big map for me. That’s how nice people are over here (though could also be pretty reserved or indifferent)!

Next day in the morning, already 3^rd of cycling around the lake, I went back to the town to get bread. Supermercado – no, we don’t have bread. But check the other supermercado there. Oh no, we don’t have bread but you see this green house over there, they have bread. In that green house? They sell bread there? Yes. I went there and found a small note in the window ‘Se Vende Pan’ (Selling bread). Cool! A very old lady let me in to her house and sold some bread (over here in Chile and Argentina there doesn’t seem to exists anything like a loaf of bread, they only have various ‘buns’, sometimes sold by items and sometimes per kg but it’s all very good). I left Puerto Guadal and after 10km and around 130 from Chile Chico I finally got to Carretera Austral and turned north. That was another beautiful day, having the lake all the time at sight, some flat sections, some pretty steep. The wind forgot to blow that day.

I got to Puerto Rio Tranquilo, my next stop on the journey to Coyhaique. Another campsite earlier recommended. No restaurants this time but a bar selling churrascos (sort of a sandwich with freshly grilled beef). I had two big beef and cheese sandwiches and came back to my hospedaje to carry on eating (coffee and chocolate). The host told me they would have a fiesta so I could join them. Oh really, what sort of fiesta ? Women’s Day. I knew it was Women’s Day on that day but would never think this would be a reason for a fiesta. I was tired and didn’t expect much so simply went to my tent to sleep. And then the fiesta started with loud, horrible (to my ‘sensitive’ taste :) music on until 4am. I thought I would kill everyone around me but instead kept on trying to fall asleep. It’s all cool but I still can’t understand why this woman when I initially asked her if I could camp there didn’t tell me that sure no problem but that they would have a fiesta at night so if I wanted a quiet night I’d better find a different place. That would be fair.

I left the town for a two-day stretch to Villa Cerro Castillo. It was 120km of riding with no towns in between (apart from one 5km off the main road after 25km), something I was not able to do in one day. Just before I left I wanted to get some bread but was not able to buy it as panaderia was closed. I had some left plus other food so decided to leave with what I had and just eat all my stuff I was carrying. First 25km was pretty tough because of the road conditions (soft sand, big washboard), then it became much easier. However I again had head wind, luckily not very strong. That was the day when I said bye to the lake after around 160km of riding along it and 40km of driving in Argentina. The landscape was changing pretty much every day. When I left the lake I went into a deep valley riding along a river. The forest around me turned into a more impressive thick one resembling more a jungle than previous pine tree forests. After 60km I was tired enough and decided to camp by that river. I found a good spot, protected from the wind and not seen from the road (I don’t think that was really a problem). I left my bags there and cycled around on a light bike to find a stream for water. When I was by one I saw a hummingbird. At least it looked like a hummingbird but I was not sure if there were any hummingbirds that far south (I discovered today that there were 3 or 4 species of hummingbirds living in Patagonia; they are called here picador). For the very first time I was attacked by mosquitoes – probably because of the proximity of the river. It was the time for my next polenta, soup, tuna and canned pepper meal plus some cookies. The nights here are not cold at all – my new discovery. It hardly falls below 10 degrees (it’s a bit different far south in Torres del Paine for example). But there is usually some humidity in the air and my tent is usually damp to some degree in the morning (it could be something to do with my tent and condensation of my breath too, though I usually don’t zip it at night for that reason).

My last day so far on ripio started with pushing a bike up a steep pass. I met 3 cyclists there going in opposite direction (so far in Chile I met over 10 cyclists on the road). We had a long chat about everything, exchanged information etc. On that day after a short ride north I turned east so I was almost sure I would have tail wind but no – when the wind started it was actually coming from the east. How is that at all possible I don’t know. It kept bothering me for long time and didn’t allow to just enjoy cycling. In over a month of cycling I had literally 1 windy day when I didn’t have any head wind throughout the day plus about 3 more days with some tail wind but also some head wind too. All the other days were with some sort of annoying side or head wind (plus a few windless days). Where is the justice? I still haven’t found the way of mentally coping with the wind. It engages my thoughts way too much. And if the road is bad then I simply can’t think of anything else, I can’t let my thoughts fly away. I stay focused on the road, annoyed at the wind, don’t have time and strength to admire the views. It then becomes a constant struggle, a fight with my weaknesses and with the surrounding and I stop caring where I am at that time. I really look forward to the places where it would be a bit easier to cycle, where I am not so much focused on the sole act of cycling, where my muscles just do the job themselves without me even thinking about it. It’s not that I am very tired and can’t cope with it all but I am definitely not fit enough to simply just ride without paying too much attention to the obstacles. I have been trying to not get too engaged in the process of thinking about the road conditions or about the wind but so far have not yet come up with successful solution. At the same time I don’t want to get to the point where the only way of coping with it is just a feeling of resignation and accepting anything that is thrown at me – I still want some anger in me.

Speaking about bad roads – last 30km before Villa Cerro Castillo (and also last 30km of ripio for a few days) was definitely the worst road I had ever seen. I know this in the end is not a road made for cyclists but cars but you’d need a 4WD or a tank to drive there. It was simply mental. The road must have been in bad shape so someone decided to bring tons of stones and just damp them on the road. They were simply everywhere, a lot loose but most embedded randomly into the ground. Potholes were massive plus ever-present deep washboard. At times I felt I was just riding along railways. There were moments I was stopping my bike on the flat sections to either think how to cross the next few metres or just to push a bike through it. To be just though I need to say that if my bike was a mountain bike with such tyres my job would be much easier. But then Carretera Austral is a national road (Ruta 7) and when you need a bike for off-road conditions than you start thinking whether everything is ok. It wasn’t.  That stretch of Ruta 7 was just ridiculous and doesn’t deserve to be called a road.

I got to Villa Cerro Castillo with Cerro Castillo – a snow-capped mountain with its rocky summit resembling a castle – towering above the village. I was generally really tired and needed a break from cycling. I however still had a day of cycling to get to Coyhaique. Some shy thoughts of going hiking up Cerro Castillo were crossing my mind but then I didn’t really want to replace cycling by hiking plus the weather made a choice easy for me – when I woke up it was raining and clouds were really low. I could only see half of the mountain. I left for Coyhaique then – 100km of paved road. A warm-up – that’s how a cyclist met a day before called a climb starting from Villa Cerro Castillo. Exactly 15km of really steep climbing with not a normal road sign ‘steep climb’ but with written warning of some steep gradients. It would be acceptable if it wasn’t raining. In my rain gear I started sweating profusely (it wasn’t warm enough to just ignore the rain and take waterproofs off). Another 15km were a great descent but as I was wet I very quickly became cold. Then another climb and then again some descent and then the wind started – obviously head wind – which stayed with me till the end of the day. After 60km I stopped by a bus stop to eat something. I then realised I was so cold I was only able to move my fingers twice as slowly as normally. My feet despite of waterproof overshoes were soaked. I made some tea, ate bread with avocado and some cookies and warmed up. In the meantime miraculously it stopped raining. The fact that I got so cold was very much related to the big climb and then big descent. One got me very wet, the second made my feet wet and cooled me down. I don’t think I would get so cold every time I get wet plus I shouldn’t get soaked (we’ll see soon as I am about to enter the area where it usually rains).

The end of that day was pretty cool actually apart from the wind. The sun was out, then a shower came and the sun came back, then another shower, then a rainbow and another rainbow. And then I was in Coyhaique and a definitely memorable (and toughest so far) chapter of my journey finished.

I spent a day in Coyhaique resting as I was planning to. I needed it very much just like a warm shower. Yesterday I cycled 90km to Villa Manihuales where Casa de Ciclistas was  – a great day of cycling in a valleys and following rivers.

It’s late afternoon, the sun is slowly setting behind the mountains. The village has a very relaxed atmosphere and is beautifully located. This morning I asked Jorge, the host, whether I could spend another night in his Casa. He said that it was the Casa de Ciclistas so my home so I could stay as long as I wanted. Amazing, just amazing.

Tomorrow in the morning I will stock up on empanadas for lunch and something for dinner and will carry on north. I think I’ve got another 90km or so till the end of paved road. I will get angry at ripio in two days. For now I can still enjoy a smooth road. I may need to wild camp for a night but we’ll see.

It’s time to explore local restaurants and have my dinner.