Zigzags between Chile and Argentina

The Carretera Austral is the “must” for any cyclist adventurer who travels through Patagonia.

It is a long road, or more precisely a track, which winds its way, isolated through southern Chile, between undomesticated areas that are connected to the rest of the country only by the Carretera. So here we are, freshly arrived from Argentina! Well, in preparing our itinerary, we had said: great, it’s the end of the Andes, it never exceeds 1500m, it will be easy after our adventures in Bolivia! It should be much flatter... flat?

After less than two kilometres of breathless pedalling, we realize the extent of our mistake. We have the worst slopes of our trip, the Atlas mountains and Bolivian Andes included! (Well, we drop a discreet veil on our misadventure near Laguna Khara…). Our computers show each day we have climbed over 1000m of vertical ascent, and yet our altitude remains essentially the same. This is because the "Carretera" is in fact a succession of terrible climbs and delicious descents…

But, if there is one thing that we are beginning to understand, it is that steep slopes and descents = beautiful landscapes! And it is really magnificent. For two weeks, we will travel under a large blue sky (or almost), between pine forests and dark blue or turquoise lakes, small burbling rivers, and summits covered with snow… Vive the Southern Carretera!

Nevertheless, we still regret the asphalt we left behind us. The tracks here are stony and they are steep! Sometimes it takes the two of us to push just one bike for several hundred metres.
One day, during a well-deserved lunch break, at the top of one of the steep hills, we see two cyclists who arrive pushing their bikes... Ahh, we feel less alone in our efforts! (Especially since WE reached the summit without descending from our bikes). But they were smiling and we immediately started a conversation. Johanna and Michaël are German, and have been travelling around the world for two years and nine months. We have very many things in common: our ages, the countries we have visited, even our liking for "dulce leche" or pasta in the evening. Johanna is really pretty, but without being self-conscious, and she laughs and talks all the time. Michaël, calmer, has an excellent sense of humour. In short, we immediately make friends, and decide to bivouac together. Since our rhythms are different, Johanna suggests a "rallying signal": a white plastic bag attached to a panel or a tree, to indicate the location of a camp, because us, like them, are often invisible from the road, and that's how the "Plastic Bag-Team" was created!

According to the difficulties of the track and our different speeds, we often met at breaks for meals or bivouacs. We ended up almost pedalling together: it was very nice to be four! We told our adventures, complained together about this rotten road full of stones, compared the contents of our saddlebags, shared our pancakes, and laughed a lot. It was always difficult to stop the break to go back to our bikes!

In summary, we found new friends, and fifteen days together passed quickly… After a few days pedalling, we look at our progress… and realize that time is short: we have an important rendez-vous in Ushuaïa at the end of the month. The final leg of the Carretera Austral involves crossing a lake by ferry, from the tiny port of "Villa O'Higgings", and the problem is that the ferry operates only on Wednesday and Saturday: if we arrive at Villa O'Higgings on Wednesday or Thursday next week, as we originally planned, we will be stuck with three or fours days waiting! We must therefore arrive on Tuesday in less than seven days... A quick calculation shows that, if we want to maintain our planning for our arrival in Ushuaïa, we will have to cover more than 70 km per day, including today! On "normal" roads it would not be a great difficulty. But here, the steepness and frequency of hills and the poor quality of the track, doubles the difficulty of each kilometre. We hesitate: is it really feasible to arrive at Villa O'Higgings by Tuesday? Can we maintain the rhythm for a whole week? We must, because otherwise we lose three days, and we will probably have to hitchhike in order to catch up... Well, if we don’t try we will not know if it is possible!

We explain our plans to Johanna and Michaël. They have no obligation to keep up with us, but after a night of reflection, they decided to make the challenge with us: great, it will be more motivating to be four! and we did not want to leave them behind… However the following days will be strenuous. We get up before dawn, around 6:30 am, and we start directly after an ultra efficient bivouac folding that took only 30mn. After 25km, pause for breakfast! (we discovered that the prospect of a bowl of cornflakes in the morning makes us pedal faster!). Then midday break after 50km, and bivouac in the evening with 70km behind us. And the same thing the following day!

Sometimes the sun hits us hard, and after steep climbs, we enjoy the presence of numerous small rivers where you can literally plunge your head and drink large gulps of the best water in the world. An advantage of regions far from civilization… Civilization here boils down to a tiny village every 100km or so. Villages built of wood, as in the era of westerns: a simple line of brightly painted houses, along a main street of clay and yellow dust.

From time to time, the landscape changes. Here, we reach a strangely desolate region, full of dead trees whose white and twisted silhouettes stand on the banks of a dark lake. Michaël explains that a huge volcanic eruption, a few decades ago, destroyed the forest on this spot and deposited ash for miles. Nevertheless, this sad landscape, has a sort of unreal charm...

At a turn of the track, we come across on one of the most scenic parts of the Carretera Austral: Lake Carrera, and its stunning turquoise water. With the sun and small yellow flowers and roses on the side of the track, it is like being in one of the paintings of a kitsch souvenir stall: can such colours be normal? We spend a whole day travelling from valley to valley along this side of this fabulous lake. The colours remain the same: we are well rewarded for our efforts on this stony corrugated track!
Despite these beautiful landscapes, the road remains difficult and we wonder if we will manage to maintain this rhythm of marathon runners to arrive in time for ferry. Ourselves… and bicycles, too!
Olivier is concerned about the health of Phileas. A few days earlier, he found some play in the system that attaches the rear derailleur to the frame of bicycle. He can no longer engage low gear, and now the chain jumps out easily: not funny in the climbs! Will Phileas hold out while we cross the mountains that separate us from Villa O'Higgings?
Well… yes, it must, even if the last day, we have to push Phileas when the slope is too steep. But the last evening, the screw that holds the derailleur pulls out: the thread on the frame is completely stripped. To replace it, it is necessary to change the rear fork, something impossible to do here... Is this the end of pedalling? Ah not yet! Olivier has a secret weapon in a saddlebag (... ... Mac Gyver): "cold welding" kit, given to him in Madrid by his father. A sort of powder that, mixed with a special resin, forms a paste that becomes as hard as metal when it sets. Olivier uses it to "weld" the screw into the frame: We can no longer remove derailleur, but at least it is once again firmly attached! Phew, Phileas is saved... we hope that it will last...

And finally, on the morning of February 5th, a few roofs appear in the distance: Villa O'Higgings! Just a few more kilometres, and we are here: at the end of the Carretera Austral. We did it! The ferry doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning; we have arrived almost in advance! Of course, we pause to take some pictures in front of the city sign.

Tomorrow, we will take the ferry back into Argentina. But we should not talk too fast, because tomorrow we will also take a trail that has left painful souvenirs to many other cyclo-adventurers…

As we said, the "Carretera", (the road) ends at Villa O 'Higgings. But we must go further: the next step is to cross the Argentinean border, on the other side of Lake O'Higgings, and that will not be easy. We have to cope with a disagreement between Chile and Argentine who seem to mutually reject the responsibility for a road between the two countries in this region. Then, just as in Western Sahara there is a "no man's land" between the Chilean border post, near the banks of Lake O'Higgings, and the Argentinean border post, some 22 km further south, on the shores of a second lake, the "Lago del Desierto". Between the two, there is a "mountain" to be crossed, but this time there is no road, no track, just a mule-path! A famous path that is well known to cyclists; we had heard about it before leaving France: we know we will have to push the bikes, and even carry them when the path becomes a hiking trail in the woods! However others have done it before, so why not us? Okay, maybe never on bent bikes with saddlebags much lower than on upright bikes. We were told they would never pass on the narrow paths with gutters carved more than 40cm deep by previous passages... Oh, and there was another small problem: the ferry! Another one? Well, yes because this path will bring us to the shore of "Lago del Desierto" on the Argentinean side, where we will have to take yet another ferry... which runs only once a day. If we do not want to "lose" another day waiting, we will have to cross this no man's land in less than five hours to catch the 6 p.m. ferry Not easy! But again, we find a solution: a horse! Do not worry, we will not sell Heidi and Phileas for a horse, but we will hire one to carry our luggage. On bicycles without heavy bags, it should be possible to cross on time.

So in the morning, we board on the first ferry, the one for which we made so much effort: whew, we are on it now! It deposits us on the other side of the lake, on a shore that is deserted except for a shed belonging to the police..., and Alfredo, the owner of the horses who had heard that cyclists might need his services. Thank you Alfredo. He takes our luggage and promises they will be in Argentina before us!

Mounting our alleviated bikes, we take great a deep breath, and launch an assault on the mountain. It begins with a long stony slope where we have to push our mounts that jump merrily from one stone to another. Far ahead, Johanna and Michaël, are struggling with their bikes still loaded with for bags (the horse is too expensive for them). Behind us, another cyclist, Mark, a Belgian, very talkative and a slightly eccentric, tells us about his life between two gasps for breath. Tim, and another German couple, have remained on the ferry. They want to visit a neighbouring glacier (too expensive for us!). Our small team of five meets up at the summit of this big slope, in a less rocky but crowded clearing under the trees. And here we start another adventure! We have to carry our bikes over the roots and trunks of dead trees, we wet our feet crossing rivers and ponds, we slide down huge boulders between the trees, and then pass under low branches. Once again we start to imagine we are Indiana Jones! And without our heavy bags, it’s almost fun! We remain grouped together in order to help each other, to push and lift the bikes over various obstacles. Sometimes we even manage to ride the bikes, and zigzag down the tiny trail: Globicyclette becomes MTB!
Suddenly, in the middle of the wood, there is a clearing... and two panels: we are on the border! We have never seen such an isolated border, and we proudly take a photograph in front of the panel "Welcome to Argentina!" We have our lunch exactly on the imaginary line that separates the two countries.

Finally, we are making good progress, and we should manage to get to the ferry on time. We set off again on our adventure-trail! (We laugh, thinking that there are people who pay for this sort of thing!). Without our bags, we can even pedal down the narrow paths, carved by mules, where you can touch both sides with your hands. Who said that bent bikes can’t go everywhere? Finally, the "Great Crossing" that frightened us when we read about it in France, is going well, in the midst of the laughter of our small group of would-be Indiana Jones.

Finally, we arrive at the ferry terminal several minutes before departure, just the time that we need to retrieve our bags and get the necessary stamps on our passports at border post. We are back in Argentina... and what a view! The Lago del Desierto lies before us, deep bright blue, reflecting the green mountains that we have just left.

In the background an incredible needle-shaped mountain peak stands out, verticality, far above everything else: the Mount Fitz-Roy, the pride of Argentineans and the jewel of the most famous national park of the country, the "Los Glaciares" national park that stretches out in front of us.

We enjoy the magnificent, incredible scenery during the 45 minutes that it takes to cross the lake. We are tired and drunk with sunshine and with the relief that we have succeeded! We have accomplished all these challenges in record time, and now there are no other imperatives that will force us to continue the race. We need to be in Ushuaïa by the 28th of February, to meet Raphaëlle, but with the progress we have made, it should not be too difficult. In short, the marathon is over! And we must admit that we are all tired, now the tension has dropped.
So when we disembarked from the ferry, at sunset, on the opposite bank of the lake, we are ready to slip into our sleeping bags. We set up our bivouac, still a group of five, in the first suitable location a few kilometres from the lake. Marc scares us all by lighting a bonfire, but it doesn’t spread, and we spend a good but short evening ... and then quickly, "bed"!

The next day, we reach the nearest village, El Chalten, at the base of the impressive Mount Fitzroy. We are now in the "Los Glaciares" national park, of which El Chalten is the "base camp" to go hiking or climbing in the fabulous mountains which surround it. And not only is the park entrance free, but there is also a free campsite in El Chalten: Hourrah for the Argentinean policy that "nature belongs to everybody"! Still not recovered from our marathon on the Carretera, we collapse into the campsite for an afternoon of well-deserved relaxation.

In the evening we celebrate end of our Great Crossing with a pancake party, to the great joy of Johanna and Michaël to whom we teach the recipe. The following day, our small team will split: they have planned to spend a few days in El Chalten to rest and hike in the national park. But we must continue southward to reach Ushuaïa (and our friend Raphaëlle) in time. We promise to try to meet up again on the road, but it is unlikely. The separation is hard, because they really became good friends and we will miss them a lot.

It is therefore with a slightly heavy hearts that we are set out on the road again. But the today road is a good friend, and tries as much as possible to console us: the first gift is asphalt. Yes, smooth asphalt! After so much difficulty on the Carretera, this is the end of wheels jumping and sliding on the stones: here is really good bitumen as smooth as we like it! It makes us smile.

But that's not all: the second gift is fabulous: the wind... a strong continuous wind, but most importantly, a tailwind! It pushes our bikes and cuts our efforts in half, propelling us at an average speed of 20 km/h. It is exhilarating! It is the fist time that we have so much benefit from the powers of our regular enemy.

At this speed, we accumulate days with more than 100 km under the wheels, beating all our previous records: strong wind, strong wind! And the road, under unfortunately sullen weather, takes us in no time the next city: El Calafate.
El Calafate is the gateway to the most famous and beautiful glacier, the Perito Moreno. It is the number one attraction for anyone visiting Argentina: an immense glacier that, like the Jokülsarlon glacier in Iceland, empties into a lake, and where large blocks of ice drop off, with cracks like thunder.

At nightfall, after another long day’s pedalling, we are in front of this wonderful UNESCO World Heritage site.

A blue wall 80 m high stands majestically in front of us, reflecting the last glimmers of day. Wow! Despite the fatigue of 98 km of pedalling, we take the time to contemplate this wonder of the world. The site is now almost empty, and only the sound of cracking of ice disturbs the quiet of the site. Even the wind has dropped. From time to time, a huge block of ice drops off the vertical wall and collapses into water with a deafening crack. Behind the ice front, the glacier extends to the horizon as a huge white and cracked sea.

We remain before this huge spectacle much of the night, and we sleep nearby, under the open sky, listening to the groans and rumbles of the giant glacier.

Back in El Calafate, we are preparing our next departure to the south, when we are interrupted by a pleasant surprise: "gling gling! ". But... it’s Michaël’s bicycle bell! And then, here they are, all smiles, wrapped in their warmest clothes and fatigued by two days of struggle against a headwind: they have not had our chance! We are delighted with this short-lived reunion, which turns into two hours of talk and laughter on the lawn at the entrance to the city. Then we resume our respective routes, them to the glacier, and us towards the Chilean city of Puerto Natales, still pushed by the gentle Patagonian wind: let’s go!

However, the wind will not always be so kind, and the following days we have to face headwinds, rainstorms, steep slopes, but sometimes also a big blue sky that extends to the immense and sunny horizon.

Large open spaces, high winds, so what about the meal breaks? It is certain that lunch with gusts of 60 km per hour in your face, is so-so. But again, the road has a surprise for us: we discover that Southern Patagonia has the cutest and most comfortable bus shelters in the world! (understandably, seeing the rigours of the climate...). At first we thought they were small chapels, with their blue pointed roofs and their little square windowpanes. But no, they are just bus shelters, with a fundamental difference, a real door! Shelters that are ideal for a meal and a break, that will become extended breaks since it is so good to be in there, and we discover the delights of a post-lunch game of chess, well-sheltered from the gusts that shake the windows.

A few days later, Puerto Natales opens up to us, at the end of a descent, against a backdrop of a blue bay surrounded by snowy peaks. We are immediately charmed by this little town with its painted wooden houses, and install ourselves in its unique campsite, strangely located in the city centre. It is tiny and cute, and we take pleasure in the delights of a hot high-pressure shower. It was so good we almost cried... Long live stops at a campsite!

(Two days ago, it was St. Valentine’s day: oops! We had completely forgotten! We make amends in a small restaurant for two...).

After two busy days in this charming little city, it is time to continue our journey to the south. And the wind, again, pushes us... or would it be a helpful "push" from our friends and families? In any case, it the ride is easy, and two days later, we are in Punta Arenas, next to the famous Strait of Magellan. On the other side, the "Tierra del Fuego" is awaiting us!

The following days, we pedal to the east, on the narrow isolated roads of the desolate Tierra del Fuego. Horizons of flat and bushy moorlands, a slag volcanic soil swept by a continuous wind: we love the solitude of these arid landscapes, and their slightly dramatic appeal. In the evening, we find various shelters to protect our bivouacs from the wind: a fisherman's hut, a former police post, a building under construction: in fact any standing wall is a blessing for us!

Thus, we finally reach the Atlantic! Ooh, we have not seen it for a long time. We cross the boarder once again into Argentina, and then we set our heading south in the direction of... Ushuaïa of course!

Gradually, the landscape becomes more mountainous, wetter too, and the wind calms down a little. We appreciate the return of a little green in landscapes, with its mountains and beautiful lakes, which now remind us more of the Alps than of the Moon. When the wind abandons us, we are in the company of uphill slopes, the necessary companion of all those who appreciate mountainous landscapes!

And finally, on February 26 in the morning, we reach the tip of the continent, the southernmost city in the world... which is also the final stage of our great descent through South America: we have travelled from Peru to Ushuaïa! A symbolic arrival in a city whose name alone evokes adventure, the end of the world and unknown lands...

Our hearts are beating when we arrive under the entrance panel of the city: here it is, we did it! It really IS the end of the world! We are proud, happy, exalted, a little tired also: all these kilometres since we left the tropics! We pose as heroes in front of the welcome sign, under a gray sky and the admiring gaze of two ordinary French tourists. It’s time to take some photos! We already imagine them, framed on the sideboard in our retirement home: "But yes, it was us, do you realize where we were, so long ago!" We are not sure if we realize now, but still, we are quite happy!

Another short km, and here we are, in front of a panorama overlooking the small town of Ushuaïa! A city on the side of a hill, facing the Beagle Canal, which sparkles blue under a sun that has just returned. A city of all colours, where each pioneer seems to have built his house, as he wanted, each in its own style.

We have a couple of days left before our rendez-vous with Raphaëlle, a friend who will come so far to spend her holidays with us: we look forward to the meeting her again. In the meantime, we install the campsite, then the cross the city back and forth, not easy when you know that it is on a hillside! Our "strange" bikes become known in the city, where we meet dozens of tourists... mainly French! Would this be a side effect of "Nicolas Hulot"? (however, him, we did not see!). In the evening, we enjoy a barbecue over a wood fire: hurrah for Argentinean campsites, where each pitch has its own barbecue!

We begin with a few days visit to the "Tierra del Fuego" National Park, a few kilometres from Ushuaïa. It offers us impressive landscapes of bays and lakes surrounded by snowy peaks. It’s superb! And in the evening, warming ourselves in front of a wood fire, we contemplate the starry sky of the southern hemisphere, absolutely magnificent in this part of the world, totally devoid of luminous pollution.

Despite the beauty of landscapes, we find that hiking in Argentinean Tierra del Fuego is rather limited, and in three days we have covered most of the trails. We therefore leave Ushuaïa on March 3 to return to Chilean Patagonia, where we want to see the famous "Torres del Paine" National Park. This time, however, we will go faster than on way down: Globicyclette will again take a bus.

This morning, we get up at four o’clock to be the first to put our "special" luggage in the hold: we do not want a remake of "Tucuman"! This time, fortunately, we have a comprehensive driver, and a discreet tip is enough to persuade him to accept our luggage: whew! Well, almost "whew": since the bus in question does not take us directly to our destination, Puerto Natales, but only to Punta Arenas, 150 km farther south. And from there, we find no bus to Puerto Natales will accept bicycles! But so close to our destination, we do not give up. We decide that the two girls will be responsible for transporting all the luggage and bags by bus, and Olivier will take his chance hitchhiking with both bikes "naked"... and it works! It works so well that he arrives at the little campsite in Puerto Natales two hours before the girls: they find him sitting in front of a barbecue offered by our neighbours: "Well, you've been slow! You would have done better to come by hitchhike!"

Anyway, the delicate problem of transporting our bikes back "from the end of the word" is over. We just have to entrust them to the owner of the campsite, rent backpacks, and the three of us can set off for seven days trekking in the Torres del Paine national park, the most beautiful of South America, so they say!

Each morning, we rise at dawn to enjoy the sunrise on landscapes. We discover the famous "towers" that gave their name to the park: the immense granite pillars, majestic in their impressive verticality. And also the dark blue or turquoise lakes, the vast valleys dominated by knife-sharp peaks and above all, the Grey glacier.

It is the largest glacier of the continent, an infinite extent of ice flowing down the mountains into the lake of the same name, generating blue icebergs that plunge us into a polar landscape. Like the Perito Moreno, but without the buses of tourists! And we spend a long time contemplating its vastness, laid on the rocks that overlook it in a cathedral-like silence interrupted only by the deafening cracking of the ice...

The seven-day hike passes very quickly, and the only regrets are the eternal blisters on our feet and painful knees. We have lost the habit of walking! Raph was worried that she would not have the physical form to keep up: but no! She gallops along as fast as us, and we enjoy these moments shared by the three of us. But it is better not to look at the catastrophic state of Olivier’s "Special Bicycle" shoes at the end of the trek. They were not designed for intense hiking, and they literally fall to pieces. Only some well-placed screws manage to hold them together for a temporary revival!

And it is already time to separate: March 12, at dawn, Raphaëlle takes the bus from Puerto Natales to the nearest airport. Her departure leaves us sad and nostalgic: with her, it is a part of ourselves that leaves... and we were really touched by all the miles she has travelled to visit us... thank you for everything, Raph!

A departure that also marks the end of our journey in southern Patagonia: tomorrow, we embark on a ferry for several days at sea in the direction of Puerto Montt, a long way north. Globicyclette on a cruise, can you believe it! But that will be the subject of a future diary...

What will Phileas and Heidi think about being placed the hold for three days on a boat? Will autumn, which is fast approaching, be merciful and keep its reserves of rain and cold for later? And most importantly, will we succeed in pedalling again after this long holiday period for our calves? Have they gone rusty? Well, by now you know, you will get the answer, as usual, in the next episode! In the meantime, wish us "good sea" while we weave through the Chilean fjords on the way to new adventures!

Chile, Argentina, Chile, Argentina... but you already know all about our gastronomic adventures in these two countries! What more can we add? We cannot leave aside Raph’s visit, loaded with victuals imported from our beloved country: chocolate! (real chocolate, that tastes of chocolate, and not of sweet fat as it does here), brioche, Nutella and strawberry "Tagada!" So, okay, all that is not very 'local'.

We must say, however, that Patagonian lamb, raised in the open air (er, wind!) on the great plains of Tierra del Fuego, is well worth a detour, especially cooked over a wood fire...

Oh, and some advice to all would-be campers in Torres del Paine: Watch your bags, there are mice everywhere! and they eat everything (except for the contents of our ziplocs)... several capsules from our pharmacy (anti-constipant... hi hi hi!), our shoe laces, and even the lining of Amanda’s cap! Well, at least they left our bikes alone...

• The slopes "not-even-in-your-dreams" of the Carretera Austral.
• The stripped screws of the support of Phileas’ derailleur: were we afraid we would have to finish the Carretera on foot.
• Saying good-bye to Johanna and Michaël twice!
• The rain head-on on the slopes, in the wind on bad tracks... Demoralizing for cyclists...
• The never-ending one-way conversation between Amanda and our host in Porvenir (after midnight, because before, it was interesting).
• The blisters on our feet in Torres del Paine! Our feet have become tender, because of being "in the air" all day!
• The departure of Raph...

For this trip through Patagonia, the best moments will clearly outweigh the "worst"! It will be very difficult to forget...

• Johanna and Michaël of course! and all the moments spent together.
• Our express meeting with them in El Calafate.
• The wild and beautiful landscapes of the Carretera Austral, and the incredible blue of Lake Carrera.
• Our arrival at Villa O'Higgins: "we did it!"
• And our arrival in Lago del Desierto, after the "Great crossing", and the unforgettable view of Mount Fitzroy.
• The night falling silently on the Perito Moreno glacier...
• The hundreds of kilometres rolling at full speed, with a tailwind.
• Our arrival as "heroic victors" in Ushuaïa.
• Raph! No need to say more.
• The sunrise on the towers of Torres del Paine Park.
• The Grey glacier.

Patagonia took our hearts. We entered it, still fresh from our pleasant stay in Argentina. It took away the easy asphalt roads, plunged us into a maelstrom of wind and dust between its roller coaster tracks and its breathtaking scenery, giving us far more than a just reward for our efforts, however hard they were. A country with great soul that only reveals itself to those who have the hearts of adventurers. A country we liked, and which reminds us how small we are...