I left the United States behind and headed for old South America way. A quick stopover in Buenos Aires brought me together with my travelling companion, Kelly. And it also meant a visit to the Recoleta Cemetery where Eva Peron is buried (at least if you believe that- some reckon her body was stolen and is in Europe somewhere!), along with some other famous families (which I didn´t know anything about)- full of beautiful old graves, in a style only the Catholics can do.
But then we were off again for ´El Fin del Mundo´- The end of the world. The town of Ushuaia (oos-why-a) on the Argentinean side of Tierra Del Fuego is the most southerly town in the world, and a great place to start one´s adventures. Quite a touristy town because of this claim, but a stunning city nonetheless. It´s on the water and surrounded by gorgeous snow-capped mountains. The arrival from the air is fabulous- make sure you get a window seat! The normal announcement about keeping electronics turned off during departure and landing was duly ignored as we all whipped out our cameras to snap away.
The air was clean and crisp and the sunlight hours long. The night finally coming at about 10pm, and the sun really gone at 10.30pm. And this has proved to be very handy when we got on the road, even if it does demand the use of an eye-mask when camping, as its broad daylight all day and most of the evening you can afford to push on when cycling if you have to. (And also prolongs the batteries in your headlamp!)
Kelly putting her bike together.
The Duck in 2-D form.
The odometer is set to zero.
We officially started our bike ride at the start of Ruta 3, in the Tierra del Fuego National Park. A famous start/end point for people´s pan-american bike rides- the end of the road. The start of the road for us…
We went back to the hostel and set off again the next day. We agreed on a few short 50km days to warm up with and would build up as we went, but it looks like 50-60km is a more likely target for much of South America. Much larger distances aren´t really possible for continuous stretches yet, as we´ve found out, due to the weather and condition of roads.
Well, back to that day from Ushuaia to Lago Escondido (60km from the hostel)…
It snowed. It snowed on us. 2 young Australian girls got caught in the snow, coming up to the Garibaldi mountain Pass. We had a late start due to the fact we knew it wouldn´t take more than a few hours and we were still not in ´hard-core commando mode´ (and to tell you the truth we still aren´t!) but this late start meant we hit this particular pass on a cold afternoon when the moisture turned to heavy rain turned to snow. So we whipped on all our wet weather gear and plowed on and over the mountain and into the rain on the other side, down to the Police check-point (a semi-regular occurrence so far) to ask about a hotel we´d read about that was on the lake we intended to camp at (there is no town at Lago Escondido). Their response- ¨No función¨. But the Policia welcomed us in to dry off and hear of our plans. Handed hot cups of coffee and sugary pastries we felt a whole lot better. As it was only a matter of being wet now we agreed we could camp. But they offered us their office to sleep in for the night and we accepted happily. Though manageable, semi-wet clothes really are a hassle when camping (in the rain). So we were pleased with our situation at that point (agreeing all of that day held for a great story on our return), but then the firemen up the road heard about us on the radio and came up to get us to go back to their station 1/2km up the road as they had more room, a kitchen etc. and a television (they found this point worth emphasizing).There was a fabulous exchange on the radio as we drove to the station which went something like this (in Spanish even Kelly could understand)…
As it turned out, this particular fire brigade has seen a lot of bike tourists come through and all have left messages of gratitude in the visitor´s book. People from all over the world wanting to cycle Patagonia like me and Kel. That evening I got to practice my Spanish on 3 very patient Argentineans while the soccer played in the background, but for Kelly it was mild torture. The game didn´t finish till 11.30pm and as it had a been a long day, sleep was first on our minds. So when we finally rolled out our sleeping bags in their living room and turned the lights off, it was midnight. I guess for these latino night-owls, that’s not such a problem, but for us we were exhausted and needed to be up early.
And then we hit them. Or they hit us. The minute we left the safety of ´Club Nautico Camping´ we were hit by the strong Patagonian winds so many cyclists have hit before, here in the summer time. Its strange to think, but people come here in the winter instead because the weather is calmer, no winds. Considering we are rugged up in clothes due the cold even in summer, I can´t imagine what its like in winter.
So we plugged on with an estancia our aim at 60km. But riding at 11km/hr 60km takes a long time. We even had a lie down at one point just to have a break from the winds. For me it was a mental break. I could ride in the winds, but mentally they´re so defeating- knowing you aren´t getting anywhere after all the time you spend pedaling. We were within sight of the estancia (a sheep or cattle station with homesteads that are on the gourmet-pricey side, but that usually let you camp for nothing) and it was taking a good half hour to ride those last few kms, and it was here our plans changed. After one day in the strong winds we agreed once we crossed the border into Chile the next day (where the road turns to gravel + strong winds) we would try our best to get a ride on a bus to the ferry and onto Punta Arenas. We would have spent 4-5 days in some depressing winds not getting very far and not passing through scenery we wouldn´t see otherwise. It felt a little like cheating, but we agreed to make the most of the short time Kelly has here and get on to the mainland. As we set off for the last km to the estancia we passed a truck pulled over and chatted to the driver about the weather, when he, Hector, asked if we wanted a ride to the border. ¨Yes, we would love that¨. It was loud and bumpy ride across the border (the road between the 2 border towns is not maintained and is very loose gravel), but we got there in one piece along with our bikes, strapped onto the rear trailer which was carrying those rally cars used for charities (destined for France apparently).
A bit like Mary and Joseph, the only hotel in town was booked full, so we camped outside, somewhat protected from the wind. Though unlike Mary and Joseph, we did not have a new born messiah by morning, only some bad bed-hair and some mouse eaten rolls (they got into Kelly´s pack outside). The lovely Chilean border official from the previous day had told us to return in the morning and he would help us get a lift off the island. Apparently our route to the western side was frequented very little by anyone possible to carry our bikes too, so we got on a bus to the north and crossed onto the mainland by 2pm. The landscape was quiet and sparse, but very beautiful. Its only tarnished by the inability to cycle through it because of the winds.
Kelly putting her bike together.
The Duck in 2-D form.
The odometer is set to zero.
We officially started our bike ride at the start of Ruta 3, in the Tierra del Fuego National Park. A famous start/end point for people´s pan-american bike rides- the end of the road. The start of the road for us…
We went back to the hostel and set off again the next day. We agreed on a few short 50km days to warm up with and would build up as we went, but it looks like 50-60km is a more likely target for much of South America. Much larger distances aren´t really possible for continuous stretches yet, as we´ve found out, due to the weather and condition of roads.
Well, back to that day from Ushuaia to Lago Escondido (60km from the hostel)…
It snowed. It snowed on us. 2 young Australian girls got caught in the snow, coming up to the Garibaldi mountain Pass. We had a late start due to the fact we knew it wouldn´t take more than a few hours and we were still not in ´hard-core commando mode´ (and to tell you the truth we still aren´t!) but this late start meant we hit this particular pass on a cold afternoon when the moisture turned to heavy rain turned to snow. So we whipped on all our wet weather gear and plowed on and over the mountain and into the rain on the other side, down to the Police check-point (a semi-regular occurrence so far) to ask about a hotel we´d read about that was on the lake we intended to camp at (there is no town at Lago Escondido). Their response- ¨No función¨. But the Policia welcomed us in to dry off and hear of our plans. Handed hot cups of coffee and sugary pastries we felt a whole lot better. As it was only a matter of being wet now we agreed we could camp. But they offered us their office to sleep in for the night and we accepted happily. Though manageable, semi-wet clothes really are a hassle when camping (in the rain). So we were pleased with our situation at that point (agreeing all of that day held for a great story on our return), but then the firemen up the road heard about us on the radio and came up to get us to go back to their station 1/2km up the road as they had more room, a kitchen etc. and a television (they found this point worth emphasizing).There was a fabulous exchange on the radio as we drove to the station which went something like this (in Spanish even Kelly could understand)…
- ¨I´m coming back with 2 Australian girls and their bikes¨
-¨Eh?!¨
-¨Eh?!¨
As it turned out, this particular fire brigade has seen a lot of bike tourists come through and all have left messages of gratitude in the visitor´s book. People from all over the world wanting to cycle Patagonia like me and Kel. That evening I got to practice my Spanish on 3 very patient Argentineans while the soccer played in the background, but for Kelly it was mild torture. The game didn´t finish till 11.30pm and as it had a been a long day, sleep was first on our minds. So when we finally rolled out our sleeping bags in their living room and turned the lights off, it was midnight. I guess for these latino night-owls, that’s not such a problem, but for us we were exhausted and needed to be up early.
We had a snow- and hassle-free day the following day to Tolhuin at Lago Fagnano and we arrived with lots of time to hit the bakery for more churros filled with ´dulce de leche´ (caramel) and empanadas (pastry turn-overs with meat or veggies inside). And I got to fly the kite that was given to me by a couple in Bodega Bay (California) in the very strong winds coming off the Fuegian Andes mountains we were riding away from.
Our first big day´s riding turned into a very big day´s ride. We got to our target of 80ish-km but didn´t feel it was a good/safe/legal place to camp (it was 2 properties with houses but no one around and signs telling you not to trespass, we thought we shouldn´t try our luck in the middle of nowhere) and the plains on either side didn´t afford any shelter from the wind so we decided to push on another 25km to Rio Grande as we had some energy and daylight on our side. We got in to a nice place through the town at 7pm after clocking up 118km that day. Whilst it was a camp ground, it was just as cheap (and much warmer) to stay inside in a wee auditorium so we holed up there and spread our stuff out for the next day too as we decided to rest up after such a long slog. We met another cyclist who we´d met briefly on our first day in the national park and talked a bit about the winds ahead on the plains.
Our first big day´s riding turned into a very big day´s ride. We got to our target of 80ish-km but didn´t feel it was a good/safe/legal place to camp (it was 2 properties with houses but no one around and signs telling you not to trespass, we thought we shouldn´t try our luck in the middle of nowhere) and the plains on either side didn´t afford any shelter from the wind so we decided to push on another 25km to Rio Grande as we had some energy and daylight on our side. We got in to a nice place through the town at 7pm after clocking up 118km that day. Whilst it was a camp ground, it was just as cheap (and much warmer) to stay inside in a wee auditorium so we holed up there and spread our stuff out for the next day too as we decided to rest up after such a long slog. We met another cyclist who we´d met briefly on our first day in the national park and talked a bit about the winds ahead on the plains.
And then we hit them. Or they hit us. The minute we left the safety of ´Club Nautico Camping´ we were hit by the strong Patagonian winds so many cyclists have hit before, here in the summer time. Its strange to think, but people come here in the winter instead because the weather is calmer, no winds. Considering we are rugged up in clothes due the cold even in summer, I can´t imagine what its like in winter.
So we plugged on with an estancia our aim at 60km. But riding at 11km/hr 60km takes a long time. We even had a lie down at one point just to have a break from the winds. For me it was a mental break. I could ride in the winds, but mentally they´re so defeating- knowing you aren´t getting anywhere after all the time you spend pedaling. We were within sight of the estancia (a sheep or cattle station with homesteads that are on the gourmet-pricey side, but that usually let you camp for nothing) and it was taking a good half hour to ride those last few kms, and it was here our plans changed. After one day in the strong winds we agreed once we crossed the border into Chile the next day (where the road turns to gravel + strong winds) we would try our best to get a ride on a bus to the ferry and onto Punta Arenas. We would have spent 4-5 days in some depressing winds not getting very far and not passing through scenery we wouldn´t see otherwise. It felt a little like cheating, but we agreed to make the most of the short time Kelly has here and get on to the mainland. As we set off for the last km to the estancia we passed a truck pulled over and chatted to the driver about the weather, when he, Hector, asked if we wanted a ride to the border. ¨Yes, we would love that¨. It was loud and bumpy ride across the border (the road between the 2 border towns is not maintained and is very loose gravel), but we got there in one piece along with our bikes, strapped onto the rear trailer which was carrying those rally cars used for charities (destined for France apparently).
A bit like Mary and Joseph, the only hotel in town was booked full, so we camped outside, somewhat protected from the wind. Though unlike Mary and Joseph, we did not have a new born messiah by morning, only some bad bed-hair and some mouse eaten rolls (they got into Kelly´s pack outside). The lovely Chilean border official from the previous day had told us to return in the morning and he would help us get a lift off the island. Apparently our route to the western side was frequented very little by anyone possible to carry our bikes too, so we got on a bus to the north and crossed onto the mainland by 2pm. The landscape was quiet and sparse, but very beautiful. Its only tarnished by the inability to cycle through it because of the winds.
The landscape of Tierra del Fuego. 
Again, found in the middle of nowhere, we were helped out by some employees of the local petroleum plant. After some initial confusion about possible transport onwards to Punta Arenas we were taken in by the parents of Philipe, in a nearby town. There we relaxed, ate, and made friends with their cute dog ´Blanca´ until our lift the next day to Punta Arenas, our current location where we have done some more eating, ALOT more sleeping and visited a nearby penguin colony, as below.
The joys of civilisation
Again, found in the middle of nowhere, we were helped out by some employees of the local petroleum plant. After some initial confusion about possible transport onwards to Punta Arenas we were taken in by the parents of Philipe, in a nearby town. There we relaxed, ate, and made friends with their cute dog ´Blanca´ until our lift the next day to Punta Arenas, our current location where we have done some more eating, ALOT more sleeping and visited a nearby penguin colony, as below.
The joys of civilisation
On a sad note, a good friend of mine, Hazel Burns, passed away on Monday 16th of November just as I set off on this tour. She had been battling a rare form of osteosarcoma (bone cancer) for the past 2 years and died peacefully in her sleep, 2 weeks after her 25th birthday. Some of you have met her or heard about her. She was a special person and will be sorely missed. This is a link to a page set up in her memory where one can donate to bone cancer research or just to read about her story. We miss you Hazel.
