tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72605885270747973702024-02-18T17:54:46.889-08:00Bikes and BackpacksExploring from Alaska to ArgentinaTamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10407730675071801678noreply@blogger.comBlogger254125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-7689163916739072292016-05-03T13:48:00.000-07:002016-05-04T13:32:24.648-07:00Reflections<div>
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<u>Deadhorse, Alaska, to Ushuaia, Argentina</u></div>
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<u><br></u><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jh6ZW3NPriTG3jds9KfC7tImi-4k_lreLPTte4Tclxxvr77RmE6wdr4K6VLVnzuFy51Y39xLst7diBsnNtGYPYB_k51NbW3fbEKQU8kFGLl8BjGCefW0O-XRDgvn1G7Bfa6CG81GIRHB/s1600/deadhorse.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_jh6ZW3NPriTG3jds9KfC7tImi-4k_lreLPTte4Tclxxvr77RmE6wdr4K6VLVnzuFy51Y39xLst7diBsnNtGYPYB_k51NbW3fbEKQU8kFGLl8BjGCefW0O-XRDgvn1G7Bfa6CG81GIRHB/s640/deadhorse.JPG" width="640"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbXzjeJevtQDI9PDRRcr3dxoehenmOq6zpzi5aJhSiRll_Fq-MCUvlgLvcyUW_QLOk70TI4Pf1wigwyWzkg0vTAvMdgZQPd3rPfZPSMx93Enedi2t51zY8kVAyixJ274ArlIPg_qdBwQP4/s1600/CSC_1949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbXzjeJevtQDI9PDRRcr3dxoehenmOq6zpzi5aJhSiRll_Fq-MCUvlgLvcyUW_QLOk70TI4Pf1wigwyWzkg0vTAvMdgZQPd3rPfZPSMx93Enedi2t51zY8kVAyixJ274ArlIPg_qdBwQP4/s640/CSC_1949.JPG" width="640"></a></div>
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696 days:<br>
290 in North America<br>
53 in Central America<br>
7 crossing from Panama to Colombia<br>
346 in South America<br>
151 in Argentina and Chile; we crossed that border 13 times <br>
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Not including side trips, nor the few times we hitchhiked, we traveled... <br>
21,493 miles<br>
through 14 countries:<br>
18,311 miles by bicycle<br>
798 miles on 14 boats<br>
2,384 miles on 10 buses </div>
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We reached altitudes of...<br>
20,144 feet on foot<br>
18,900 feet by bike<br>
16,325 feet on loaded bikes.<br>
We ascended 47 passes over 13,100 feet.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFeQvUpHmgS4W1nWehqp1lwfQTVASOOM44p9qCq0vJiG6ZEoTHNFcrkWJgcPeDFYFzIVFYVc8a4E8wVj5O7gZGEzmw3KFicqpADQmOKPRhmGnqLjcH6_IOCIRshgl3uKioOvMxhzTYov8m/s1600/peru.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFeQvUpHmgS4W1nWehqp1lwfQTVASOOM44p9qCq0vJiG6ZEoTHNFcrkWJgcPeDFYFzIVFYVc8a4E8wVj5O7gZGEzmw3KFicqpADQmOKPRhmGnqLjcH6_IOCIRshgl3uKioOvMxhzTYov8m/s640/peru.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our many 4,000-meter passes, this one in Peru's Cordillera Blanca</td></tr>
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The only parts of our original bikes to make it to Ushuaia were... <br>
both handlebars<br>
three of four rims<br>
both front derailleurs<br>
Tam's seat and seat post (yes, they outlasted Danny's Brooks saddle)<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These chainrings didn`t make it past Peru</td></tr>
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The stats above make it clear; we've come a long way. But just riding the miles was never enough. Throughout the last 23 months we've grown, learned, and challenged ourselves together and as individuals. We started on road bikes cycling only on pavement, and have ended on mountain bikes we built ourselves riding almost exclusively dirt roads, tracks, and trails. Our travels have been unique, and we're proud of all we have achieved. <br>
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A lot of people have called this trip a "once in a lifetime experience." In a very literal sense, this is true; neither of us plans on biking from Alaska to Argentina again. However, we don't see our past two years as the contained experience that this phrase implies. It hasn't just been a trip or a vacation; it has been a meaningful part of our lives. Throughout it, we've developed a way to live life to the fullest that extends far beyond the realm of the bicycle. Whatever we take on in the future – studies, work, or travel – we're confident that it will be equally as rewarding and exciting as this bike ride has been. <br>
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What exactly is this way of life? It's constantly seeking out challenge, taking full advantage of learning and teaching opportunities, living a simple lifestyle, setting long-term goals, never saying "I can't," being honest with ourselves and others, sharing freely, stepping out of our comfort zones, and opening ourselves up to the world. <br>
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These are not new ideas – we had read about and experienced some of them before – but the challenge we've just completed taught us what they really mean, why they're valuable, and how to make them a part of our lives. <br>
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We're in Ushuaia, and our bike ride from the farthest northern point accessible by road to the farthest southern city of the Americas is officially over, but the journey isn't. <br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlx4GEHLmdLQtSqSbPV5uSqFPly6Yb7gsp6lko8yLFe5FhDQYIsRkfQ7mNTUWWtwWsWebEgt0zNo_pbSsFI-hgMTMMq7kqYy1MQtBps-R7aqc7_ZDwsyOhFRxdgi1OWxfaylR4T2DFmG_/s1600/riding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlx4GEHLmdLQtSqSbPV5uSqFPly6Yb7gsp6lko8yLFe5FhDQYIsRkfQ7mNTUWWtwWsWebEgt0zNo_pbSsFI-hgMTMMq7kqYy1MQtBps-R7aqc7_ZDwsyOhFRxdgi1OWxfaylR4T2DFmG_/s640/riding.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road always goes on! Thanks to <a href="https://fatcycling.wordpress.com/">Dan</a> for the photo</td></tr>
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We are so privileged to have had the opportunities that allowed us to live our dreams. We want to extend thanks to everyone who has given support, love, and friendship along the way. You were an integral part of this journey. We couldn't, and wouldn't, have done it without you. <br>
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With love<br>
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Danny and Tamara<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwavQaxRoAwJGGXqrc7gQvjjW4lvDtHitPkNLdSULv5BxWuJBAUEmKpwKRsaOG0Q-P2-n7X0145loGGreM38IUKcERAcJH1as7NWPjSK3nMs07L50zzYQiRTb5lGzSmUXShCr1bztu9ACq/s1600/19336591094_4eb6bc1843_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwavQaxRoAwJGGXqrc7gQvjjW4lvDtHitPkNLdSULv5BxWuJBAUEmKpwKRsaOG0Q-P2-n7X0145loGGreM38IUKcERAcJH1as7NWPjSK3nMs07L50zzYQiRTb5lGzSmUXShCr1bztu9ACq/s640/19336591094_4eb6bc1843_o.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset over the Galapagos</td></tr>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-8804379202859696872016-05-03T13:46:00.000-07:002016-05-03T13:48:29.680-07:00Tierra del Fuego: Cold Weather, Warm People<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Punta Arenas(Chile)-Porvenir-Onaisin-Cámeron-Russfin-Paso Bella Vista-Rio Grande(Argentina)-Tolhuin-Puerto Almanza-Ushuaia</i></div>
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It is only fitting that our journey should come to an end in Tierra del Fuego, a remote, desolate, harsh island strangely reminiscent of Alaska. The early winter wilderness embodied Patagonia at its most raw; we´ve been looking for places like this. The end of the world did not disappoint, throwing us into unexpected adventures left and right. Just as it did when we began pedaling forever ago, the warmth of the people we met here provided a stark contrast to the whirling snow and wind, reminding us what bike touring is all about. We´ve truly come full circle.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsZZFKJiba6lCTU2piZUN4eKBUAZoAox-ogdIHLEwO3xGURyWlev0Xm6QZU0LE4DsQOY3ImFOXQq_A0JCPlepo5axN9Y1UxGSbP1Mmxsv4zdiIeL-0bt9B2DkYBhJmFFWFX6jyNvP1q9j/s1600/CSC_1253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggsZZFKJiba6lCTU2piZUN4eKBUAZoAox-ogdIHLEwO3xGURyWlev0Xm6QZU0LE4DsQOY3ImFOXQq_A0JCPlepo5axN9Y1UxGSbP1Mmxsv4zdiIeL-0bt9B2DkYBhJmFFWFX6jyNvP1q9j/s640/CSC_1253.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tierra del Fuego: home to few people and a few penguins</td></tr>
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The road south essentially ends in Punta Arenas, and we must take a ferry across the Strait of Magellan to continue our journey across Tierra del Fuego. Thus, early morning finds us riding through the darkness to the ferry terminal. The days have been getting noticeably shorter; at 8 am, the sun is just beginning to light up the sky.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What we wrote a long time ago about cycling to the farthest point south accessible by road... well, I guess we´re going above and beyond.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At 8:30 am, even Danny, lover of the snooze button, gets to take in a sunrise or two.</td></tr>
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We spend most of the two-hour ferry ride inside, warm, crowded close to the other passengers in a loud and chaotic lounge. But as we approach Tierra del Fuego, we brave our way out into the cold and are greeted by a show of jumping dolphins! Immediately excited by this, we spend the last bit of the ride running around the deck trying to get another glimpse of them.<br />
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<b>Chilean Tierra del Fuego</b></div>
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The ferry drops us near Porvenir, a cute, sleepy town with streets deserted by the freezing wind. We ask inside a small restaurant if we can eat our lunch inside. Of course we can bring our food in! And the lady brings us cups of hot water for tea then doesn't let us pay a cent. Her kindness warms us just as much as the heated room.<br />
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Feeling ready to hit the road, and reassured by the police that the remote pass of Bella Vista is still open, we set off along the coast. We're on a "main" road, but it's dirt and a car passes every 30 minutes or so.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMUoer_PT8SRQVya3gSV7-8wAS28R6EjzWOrF4eIkFdOCsPIGmLDMKXePUSOiwzBWxr_YZ7AVkBn880LJFA5-hEzMayKrbDI1qfRGfqRPnJeMhf8oR8DePlqadE1S9iA6hSaVnbpsi3Phx/s1600/CSC_1202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMUoer_PT8SRQVya3gSV7-8wAS28R6EjzWOrF4eIkFdOCsPIGmLDMKXePUSOiwzBWxr_YZ7AVkBn880LJFA5-hEzMayKrbDI1qfRGfqRPnJeMhf8oR8DePlqadE1S9iA6hSaVnbpsi3Phx/s640/CSC_1202.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rain threatens continuously, and often it also delivers.</td></tr>
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The people out here say that, in Tierra del Fuego, you get all four seasons every day, and I believe it! The sun comes out for a while, then clouds and snow, then sun again. Late afternoon we are suddenly overtaken by a large blizzard. Struggling against the fierce winds and snow, we find our way to a small bus shelter. It doesn't look big enough to spend the night in, but it's the only place out here. Just then a red truck pulls up and offers to take us to a better shelter just up the road. We load up.</div>
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A couple of delicious candy bars later, we say goodbye to our new friends and disembark at an amazing shelter where we will be able to spend the night out of the snow. Inside other cyclists have written notes and stories all over the walls, and we recognize quite a few of them. (That's how you know you've been on the road for a long time.)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caro and Rodri... we met them about two months ago</td></tr>
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The next morning dawns frozen and windy but clear of snow.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This puddle outside our shelter had little waves frozen into it, a showcase of the wind and cold</td></tr>
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We cycle 14 kilometers slowly into the blasting wind, motivated by where we're going: a King Penguin colony! King Penguins belong to the same genus as Emperor Penguins, just slightly smaller (0.9 vs 1.1 meters tall). They are the only two species of penguin that incubates their eggs on their feet. Unlike Emperor Penguins, mom and dad take turns going out to fish while raising the chick.<br />
This particular colony is the only one in South America (others live on sub-Antarctic islands), and they just showed up recently, about 50 years ago. Apparently overfishing around their previous nesting grounds drove them to look for new homes, and since commercial fishing is not allowed in this bay and the surrounding strait, they have plenty of food here. The 70 or so penguins that we can see today are clearly happy and healthy. And there are currently a bunch of 3-9 week old chicks!<br />
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A day in the life of a penguin chick:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, hello!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtXLABYWZNYgBCxDjGi3vpL8ekvqqTx0gZNuoyEWhWEtWelGSs1x_KQezyC-Kdz6Jrw7J0pJXyAF5SP_HWYU444f60Eu6azpUavUhywsRcA_jmvDTPJwcCeeinYtbrG89GHpTn2NkIMIk/s1600/CSC_1218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtXLABYWZNYgBCxDjGi3vpL8ekvqqTx0gZNuoyEWhWEtWelGSs1x_KQezyC-Kdz6Jrw7J0pJXyAF5SP_HWYU444f60Eu6azpUavUhywsRcA_jmvDTPJwcCeeinYtbrG89GHpTn2NkIMIk/s400/CSC_1218.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What should I do today?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWwN8QgI0ggiVyDEPbnC6RcillSY2faRM6BnfUPW29MHrOpHtF6rwDDG_lm0iDbw527t4GJiRI_zorqdItoAaKkyTJDne6L6zQta-dk-Z_I0FzD0xN8jg-1uACyzsgiQ7Wr1XX45tr3Fh8/s1600/CSC_1225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWwN8QgI0ggiVyDEPbnC6RcillSY2faRM6BnfUPW29MHrOpHtF6rwDDG_lm0iDbw527t4GJiRI_zorqdItoAaKkyTJDne6L6zQta-dk-Z_I0FzD0xN8jg-1uACyzsgiQ7Wr1XX45tr3Fh8/s400/CSC_1225.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let´s go find mama. Mom! Mom! Mom!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieuGerkq4Z-cdLVkyLKImUwWTI_Q2QNQIREEAujXNnwPFHe65jud8zlOt0BqZFAcog4ZWN8_sOj7_QY89qViIV871vCiWNnxPyVyvpx8zRqpRJm-Z31qL8PACnLKDVCgck-Pdw1RzFtMnl/s1600/CSC_1220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieuGerkq4Z-cdLVkyLKImUwWTI_Q2QNQIREEAujXNnwPFHe65jud8zlOt0BqZFAcog4ZWN8_sOj7_QY89qViIV871vCiWNnxPyVyvpx8zRqpRJm-Z31qL8PACnLKDVCgck-Pdw1RzFtMnl/s400/CSC_1220.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I´m HUNGRY!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpIqTXtDD7Y6D7W4AGINBYyOyVrJjsJwyzOwSF_sawt6aIgXLp8LbPa0poPJtETks9yoa3AAn3-9jKLDBlbm0WlM-1xEMht4VKXzwVgrIa3Abr_iAskyGv8XuNELdxycvktLSWeeFP8qo/s1600/CSC_1232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzpIqTXtDD7Y6D7W4AGINBYyOyVrJjsJwyzOwSF_sawt6aIgXLp8LbPa0poPJtETks9yoa3AAn3-9jKLDBlbm0WlM-1xEMht4VKXzwVgrIa3Abr_iAskyGv8XuNELdxycvktLSWeeFP8qo/s400/CSC_1232.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What now?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycMIiCkYGiJpmj2SXrjf9YlNuxMzzoDS1qzvHFDScWBUIR532BZQb9OHRIKDEs08wGbFJ-3A6bNQR0OeYi0L9PAy45vs1QDDigeVxR_RF3-0UCBETuexATZm0JnLHe1OKrXrBnDbYG3vI/s1600/CSC_1237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhycMIiCkYGiJpmj2SXrjf9YlNuxMzzoDS1qzvHFDScWBUIR532BZQb9OHRIKDEs08wGbFJ-3A6bNQR0OeYi0L9PAy45vs1QDDigeVxR_RF3-0UCBETuexATZm0JnLHe1OKrXrBnDbYG3vI/s400/CSC_1237.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crazy penguin!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXSv6gOwF0l2Yk_Uv3VfjBJIS3EMLByKm50NyqHi78T0w1VQ13bY1kkWNJ7WJ4piR0EgRjWhFAqn-sM2pHQR4fiLrIcsEbQsVATdj_-QbXQ9XonsiI3lZUjQ0eR1VCxfb13mSuavdYzRxw/s1600/CSC_1214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXSv6gOwF0l2Yk_Uv3VfjBJIS3EMLByKm50NyqHi78T0w1VQ13bY1kkWNJ7WJ4piR0EgRjWhFAqn-sM2pHQR4fiLrIcsEbQsVATdj_-QbXQ9XonsiI3lZUjQ0eR1VCxfb13mSuavdYzRxw/s400/CSC_1214.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gosh, that was tiring.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1F5j3GdVv7MaHsyFg2ELjWUtOKzJWog9jgWfs76F54T89U3JISCuW7AAevaxTE39E8QNn9g53CpHC6DYxaNzyOKdrnbY3UpSWdAiJWyKBw2VXz_hjlyDB7fG6CRRTx06DU1rnfR6zAky/s1600/CSC_1234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1F5j3GdVv7MaHsyFg2ELjWUtOKzJWog9jgWfs76F54T89U3JISCuW7AAevaxTE39E8QNn9g53CpHC6DYxaNzyOKdrnbY3UpSWdAiJWyKBw2VXz_hjlyDB7fG6CRRTx06DU1rnfR6zAky/s400/CSC_1234.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom! Mom! I´m hungry!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9oWBH8wilAyqnC63SOUfWrIluLWV_zvQEjg03r0iSHTfokzyfDUltBNMS-fwTQSxHyoQO7FBlacoVjKEvsdJQ5xQcjoSjqQvzNhVkF4JY0hSFLH8mpBCTZlqGabE_dPEIrDmFnCqrOqk/s1600/CSC_1227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9oWBH8wilAyqnC63SOUfWrIluLWV_zvQEjg03r0iSHTfokzyfDUltBNMS-fwTQSxHyoQO7FBlacoVjKEvsdJQ5xQcjoSjqQvzNhVkF4JY0hSFLH8mpBCTZlqGabE_dPEIrDmFnCqrOqk/s400/CSC_1227.JPG" width="336" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nap time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Day in the life of an adult penguin:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIrI0cf-_n_dfludpX4Us9R1wFgOWxbbqlCPTotIFEDrYBYwdW9AkhL-yLVhVa05dKBGo3xpsaW7KQ5bzX8vGkkc3jRKlPRWcUM6YwWQormYFdK80Iql3SABazyTDdCSqPybb8Ady3bX_/s1600/CSC_1249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIrI0cf-_n_dfludpX4Us9R1wFgOWxbbqlCPTotIFEDrYBYwdW9AkhL-yLVhVa05dKBGo3xpsaW7KQ5bzX8vGkkc3jRKlPRWcUM6YwWQormYFdK80Iql3SABazyTDdCSqPybb8Ady3bX_/s640/CSC_1249.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks like a nice day. I´ll stand here for a bit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgqyusi9djZijQ97dl9yp6i5vxBLxHS0RVyuzAQcpGQVBpK06Yf2tDWMKfECN6pJKG6rzvS0QVT9JRBpsxi1V3USEVKJ5b5olmhL3nGSMvpDKQIUg9YDdcwOxL8P9DOsaeBZEqlYe-q-Z/s1600/CSC_1239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgqyusi9djZijQ97dl9yp6i5vxBLxHS0RVyuzAQcpGQVBpK06Yf2tDWMKfECN6pJKG6rzvS0QVT9JRBpsxi1V3USEVKJ5b5olmhL3nGSMvpDKQIUg9YDdcwOxL8P9DOsaeBZEqlYe-q-Z/s400/CSC_1239.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe do a bit of dancing...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtI0rGPqfDWUHKpM104bQG4MvZh2IlKcG7lSwQJbBy7isXvp_vOiE_WVJ5kTIdiG3I8iHD3_DHR6kw2IQ09fs_7e6C6zrK3-Isgk6gMol7TDXX2N2EHtVdjfUzfzo8ODYVqI4WQbzY9vK/s1600/CSC_1251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMtI0rGPqfDWUHKpM104bQG4MvZh2IlKcG7lSwQJbBy7isXvp_vOiE_WVJ5kTIdiG3I8iHD3_DHR6kw2IQ09fs_7e6C6zrK3-Isgk6gMol7TDXX2N2EHtVdjfUzfzo8ODYVqI4WQbzY9vK/s400/CSC_1251.JPG" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...or some singing!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkb5ep9fmArCQG_4w7Z5uEFbCBJpHjxokG8xTyDZFMsO9N0qDy_-kgiCdRIKMWmM33Mg9BakVIK6i8IDf3QWut2uDl5VLe-zoA0Oh325TTcEHOYAhfTNgc_CPqhCuVwurysUdWOH53DOq/s1600/CSC_1244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlkb5ep9fmArCQG_4w7Z5uEFbCBJpHjxokG8xTyDZFMsO9N0qDy_-kgiCdRIKMWmM33Mg9BakVIK6i8IDf3QWut2uDl5VLe-zoA0Oh325TTcEHOYAhfTNgc_CPqhCuVwurysUdWOH53DOq/s400/CSC_1244.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey man, you didn´t like my song?</td></tr>
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We watch the penguins for hours, and when we get cold, the caring and knowledgeable researchers who run the place invite us out of the wind to heat up our lunch. And, as if that weren't enough, when it gets late they load us up with firewood and send us up the road to a little shack where we stay warm and cozy all night.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I7pRV7cQLNWhKLBVlbA5qX0NKVFfqiMGw8y3ZBdQTsCFXhpQP3jfKvFYai8Nq8-rCUmayu0-Bzo8114UmOwK7J_qFjV7Q5LU232Um7v4fAWRa0ISfEE6yaR8Z52X47SMuyFoTSPciIKY/s1600/CSC_1254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9I7pRV7cQLNWhKLBVlbA5qX0NKVFfqiMGw8y3ZBdQTsCFXhpQP3jfKvFYai8Nq8-rCUmayu0-Bzo8114UmOwK7J_qFjV7Q5LU232Um7v4fAWRa0ISfEE6yaR8Z52X47SMuyFoTSPciIKY/s640/CSC_1254.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anything seems like luxury when the temperature´s hovering around freezing and it´s raining</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRC6DMW3rhAYQV2B2NOuzqNE8K0qPd5KjCjxlzedKGUYNjXYliFB-61t7tjfq8mBkBTEyGd3ulA3Xe9l9W8MewNTytSst4bbUqn8e0gp3-fLoal7sWPwgLMzU7lkZPTVBGS5u7Desid5H/s1600/CSC_1546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRC6DMW3rhAYQV2B2NOuzqNE8K0qPd5KjCjxlzedKGUYNjXYliFB-61t7tjfq8mBkBTEyGd3ulA3Xe9l9W8MewNTytSst4bbUqn8e0gp3-fLoal7sWPwgLMzU7lkZPTVBGS5u7Desid5H/s400/CSC_1546.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With a fire going, we´re perfectly content.</td></tr>
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The penguin-fest is not yet over! Just a few kilometers up the road we encounter a colony of Rockhopper Penguins! These guys are not as well protected from human influence, but there are a few signs warning not to get too close. Rockhoppers can be up on these ocean cliffs for weeks without food while raising their young, and even a bit of stress can be incredibly detrimental. They are completely different from the King Penguins; they're much smaller and have hilarious yellow eyebrows that make them look both funny and extremely serious. And of course they're called rockhoppers for a reason...</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF69s6B8_AU1-SiZT1nyGXRCuYbfl6kLlNUhawlcFXz4ZDENv56A7lGbqq3LexAWbClhUwn9OkqSV9eMaSX131-ej4_B9Q0s2d1F7Fz1aDgCofa6jA2e7OOySHcyuMTc0mRvZEbIEZ_-fn/s1600/CSC_1510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF69s6B8_AU1-SiZT1nyGXRCuYbfl6kLlNUhawlcFXz4ZDENv56A7lGbqq3LexAWbClhUwn9OkqSV9eMaSX131-ej4_B9Q0s2d1F7Fz1aDgCofa6jA2e7OOySHcyuMTc0mRvZEbIEZ_-fn/s640/CSC_1510.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the many Rockhopper Penguins! It´s not every day you come across penguins by the side of the road.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV9RbuoPptguO1uvQ4GCWi2-ESxdncz_OzntO84onDwJnHChamUjtxPmZbnvHLSap1_8bYmp9mAcukNdpJMzsItuaZSbMbJqbD5058D4Wd5i_SnviHaU15BH-4TMkGBgx9kkaJs0zyae6/s1600/CSC_1519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV9RbuoPptguO1uvQ4GCWi2-ESxdncz_OzntO84onDwJnHChamUjtxPmZbnvHLSap1_8bYmp9mAcukNdpJMzsItuaZSbMbJqbD5058D4Wd5i_SnviHaU15BH-4TMkGBgx9kkaJs0zyae6/s400/CSC_1519.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up we go!</td></tr>
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As the day continues, it begins to rain, rain, and rain some more. Our worn raingear soaks through, and, as the temperature is hardly a notch above freezing, we keep moving to stay warm.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9mEidzrDXpjmibWZW4d9XZooqfRUsV8Oy3SDiaPoej1NaUOaENmPEE82_NSFDk1aA_HTWbSdyPsEZXc4nWCJTJJnYC3xDT4FbL4HUNrOp78lLPtLOp-e0NFi7wRjRA2M95EXAtFslMHa/s1600/CSC_1523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9mEidzrDXpjmibWZW4d9XZooqfRUsV8Oy3SDiaPoej1NaUOaENmPEE82_NSFDk1aA_HTWbSdyPsEZXc4nWCJTJJnYC3xDT4FbL4HUNrOp78lLPtLOp-e0NFi7wRjRA2M95EXAtFslMHa/s400/CSC_1523.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We get a bit dirty, too</td></tr>
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We're going to have to find a place out of the rain to spend the night, so we press on to the <i>estancia</i> that we know is up the road. At first the collection of buildings appears totally deserted, but then we spot smoke rising from a chimney. We roll up on our bikes and are greeted by Rafael, a reticent, hardened<i> gaucho</i>.</div>
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Rafael takes us inside to a building with a huge wood stove. Soon we have a raging fire going, and steam is rising from all of our wet clothes as they begin to dry. Our wet, miserable day has suddenly turned warm and wonderful. We sit quietly, feeling gratitude to Rafael as the numbness fades from our feet.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rBYGT7dqDgBbtMUUalysQj87B6vMGjudX868NYa732AJ3ysOqFHeid1CSkJ_nHrBcbvAxoSS3bqb8OJHe46NRgsoXxGWNXIwQ_qQ1Ds3A6K8P8w-HwIF9v9_hPKBd4FNGF-8Z1XqO1Ma/s1600/CSC_1528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rBYGT7dqDgBbtMUUalysQj87B6vMGjudX868NYa732AJ3ysOqFHeid1CSkJ_nHrBcbvAxoSS3bqb8OJHe46NRgsoXxGWNXIwQ_qQ1Ds3A6K8P8w-HwIF9v9_hPKBd4FNGF-8Z1XqO1Ma/s400/CSC_1528.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a day like this, nothing could be better than a massive wood stove, except perhaps for the fire inside of it.</td></tr>
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Overnight the rain changes to snow and in the morning the ground has been covered by several inches. The sky is completely grey and it looks like the storm isn't over yet. Not eager to have another day like yesterday, we decide to stay at the <i>estancia</i>. While the <i>gauchos</i> go out to tend to the sheep, Danny splits a lot of wood, and I clean our muddy bikes and dry the rest of our wet gear.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitc-wsVSIryvUMtTd9n0hq1i1uDFp8FBesDAonrMRPfmJfyTDIHJodmQaBQ2zPXbrJQMJlEPhUYnfkaeDFu9S_XURHDJ_lFki36vKdL6XtbIaZw-CYnqs6gdwjKadnuPeQMyCgbJRHDLwQ/s1600/CSC_1531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitc-wsVSIryvUMtTd9n0hq1i1uDFp8FBesDAonrMRPfmJfyTDIHJodmQaBQ2zPXbrJQMJlEPhUYnfkaeDFu9S_XURHDJ_lFki36vKdL6XtbIaZw-CYnqs6gdwjKadnuPeQMyCgbJRHDLwQ/s400/CSC_1531.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hmm... not what we had hoped to wake up to...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4gGSA36HrSpNDftguK0lD1JCyGVmRODEu0Xi4mwvLQQ_K7JI_fCXAJMYh1cTyzGMKSPStoANSJefWtpXwzcl1VCPfRBVW-C2peOFKnMK12iGbpDPj9IXVjHLzw4DwF14PqFJqMFA1piLJ/s1600/CSC_1532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4gGSA36HrSpNDftguK0lD1JCyGVmRODEu0Xi4mwvLQQ_K7JI_fCXAJMYh1cTyzGMKSPStoANSJefWtpXwzcl1VCPfRBVW-C2peOFKnMK12iGbpDPj9IXVjHLzw4DwF14PqFJqMFA1piLJ/s400/CSC_1532.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but it does add a picturesque air to what, yesterday, was a muddy mess of a road.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiayt0X74khlECzioEPPXrDTPXdv4gWeOYEF5M9QzSVAQ6-T8LlPtQSC6QkZzA7ysC7EW9tX75W4PANR7rlw_pbi3hf80M7_zozuMS322_qWe597OfRDw-r-2SjNJNrKP6Qi_V02XHusT/s1600/CSC_1535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiayt0X74khlECzioEPPXrDTPXdv4gWeOYEF5M9QzSVAQ6-T8LlPtQSC6QkZzA7ysC7EW9tX75W4PANR7rlw_pbi3hf80M7_zozuMS322_qWe597OfRDw-r-2SjNJNrKP6Qi_V02XHusT/s400/CSC_1535.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Staying inside = quesadillas!</td></tr>
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In the late afternoon we meet Martin. He's dressed well, with a beret perched on his head, and holds himself with confidence. We're not surprised to learn that he's the owner of the estancia. He welcomes us and brings us over eggs and bread.</div>
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Rafael and Martin leave to tend to some sheep and we are left with Jorge, who invites us to have tea. We learn that the estancia is massive, holding around 22,000 sheep on 200,000 hectares! He shows us a picture; it looks like a sheep ocean.<br />
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Most of the work out here happens in the summer, but before winter begins there is one more important big day of work. The faces of the sheep must be shaved so that they can see better and won't fall into streams and drown. This, apparently, is a common problem. "They're not too smart," says Martin. In addition, the oldest sheep who no longer have teeth are separated to be sold for meat since they won't survive the winter.<br />
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The following morning dawns clear and sunny and we are happy we waited out the snow! It's always nice when a decision based on no evidence at all turns out to be the right one.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTQ9NEtvjYNrrnq9qLfFoVmkhA-O6lnj1eoDTYtsKXf_VBviJZrg5EqJ3RXAPIAu49YgtZPoSvEuhAm2MX4rT4I9pExaeO2Lt2TiVr-n0dReWV_ilaCE4vGXzUuzRoN9mbiTrMMVCREo0/s1600/CSC_1540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpTQ9NEtvjYNrrnq9qLfFoVmkhA-O6lnj1eoDTYtsKXf_VBviJZrg5EqJ3RXAPIAu49YgtZPoSvEuhAm2MX4rT4I9pExaeO2Lt2TiVr-n0dReWV_ilaCE4vGXzUuzRoN9mbiTrMMVCREo0/s400/CSC_1540.JPG" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun! Yay!</td></tr>
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Late morning we reach another division of the same estancia. This sector is called Rio Grande, and in the summer they run a popular fly-fishing lodge for the sea-run trout in the river. Martin has invited us to stay the night here, but since it's still early and the sun is out we don't want to stop! Best to take advantage of the nice weather while we can. We walk up to the buildings, intending to leave a note for our new gaucho friends.</div>
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Instead, we meet Yolanda, Rafael's wife. She stuffs us full of delicious homemade bread rolls, butter and jam, and hot tea. An unbelievably generous lady, she avails us with stories of other travelers she has taken in and visitors that come each year to the lodge. We immediately feel at home in her cozy kitchen.<br />
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As we prepare to get back on the road, Yolanda treats us to a bag full of more rolls (hot out of the oven!) and some jam. Spirits high, we set off towards the border with Argentina.<br />
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It's not long before we are stopped in our tracks by a huge group of condors. Several are nearby on the ground where we can get a good look at them, and I count more than twenty in flight! And most people consider themselves lucky to just see one!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-hPzZp_HqfG6lYW2X9EQ0LjFzZdsnjS3kQN2KIX2ZTSFNwZzjs_QuzZ4Nm0sRXthZGaG4hyphenhypheniM1ifyiT62f6rNSPy5YbpvN-tJr0Cn1RsaUCwiSxXLwGqIrKN2bF6uu7URQ4qRisARY0z/s1600/CSC_1542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS-hPzZp_HqfG6lYW2X9EQ0LjFzZdsnjS3kQN2KIX2ZTSFNwZzjs_QuzZ4Nm0sRXthZGaG4hyphenhypheniM1ifyiT62f6rNSPy5YbpvN-tJr0Cn1RsaUCwiSxXLwGqIrKN2bF6uu7URQ4qRisARY0z/s400/CSC_1542.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The unmistakeable andean condor</td></tr>
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To reach the border we ride through a bit of forest. The shade means that the snow hasn't melted here, and the fall colors turn our road into a winter wonderland.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_5B3mUin79-XT66hONh63sy3FUCBGY3258awBUxrEnsEv5FPsdMBPwMjdAaj8H4FreuIRsI5eQLhKoEz2attCTMluhuj06t48eU5Q9Urb1_i9L0kUTJvA2PL6HPZv__g9hoJXV7IG295/s1600/CSC_1550.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_5B3mUin79-XT66hONh63sy3FUCBGY3258awBUxrEnsEv5FPsdMBPwMjdAaj8H4FreuIRsI5eQLhKoEz2attCTMluhuj06t48eU5Q9Urb1_i9L0kUTJvA2PL6HPZv__g9hoJXV7IG295/s640/CSC_1550.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEyQCUGY3uuH1wYBIdc87PDCs36b-8tM5JN97x06MbKBxIZJFktCl2a4bvs5uV11CUDgBdymKcoPp5etZjWFBUHGZz6ZZ0MWraqUxepE99fKf8Cg56fiv7YR6_W_caueaA3wnQG5AEfrD/s1600/CSC_1553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEyQCUGY3uuH1wYBIdc87PDCs36b-8tM5JN97x06MbKBxIZJFktCl2a4bvs5uV11CUDgBdymKcoPp5etZjWFBUHGZz6ZZ0MWraqUxepE99fKf8Cg56fiv7YR6_W_caueaA3wnQG5AEfrD/s400/CSC_1553.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow´s not just for fat bikes! At least not when it´s only an inch deep</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVVoIh0Mjo_Sd6BsgmOIDpO49loZOqCwP2IREb6DTKKV2YCohdus-ybDCUk6U1bWng-kK6ARLZF-6om-D3YnCg7SFbBza8cCA28HEhhqW2wSuOpF51epC4AUAPhUK9ZsI4nbLJxfo-7IS/s1600/CSC_1552.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglVVoIh0Mjo_Sd6BsgmOIDpO49loZOqCwP2IREb6DTKKV2YCohdus-ybDCUk6U1bWng-kK6ARLZF-6om-D3YnCg7SFbBza8cCA28HEhhqW2wSuOpF51epC4AUAPhUK9ZsI4nbLJxfo-7IS/s640/CSC_1552.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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Thrilled by the colorful scenery, we quickly reach the Chilean border, a series of cabins. You know you're at a remote border when you need to knock on three different doors before finding someone who can stamp you out of the country.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Qqgf2n6VZe1XdPhd2MlJ4S1n2SjUDOceW9O4hxXs6LbxCRcSYbrnv3xBuJFNAJO4Ee2MGdW1AkcSYelgDqlaZt6ENUt7MiDI59kwafEpPiSZvatawJLIa0daSHxyDXOE4ez6gqp6wf3V/s1600/CSC_1554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Qqgf2n6VZe1XdPhd2MlJ4S1n2SjUDOceW9O4hxXs6LbxCRcSYbrnv3xBuJFNAJO4Ee2MGdW1AkcSYelgDqlaZt6ENUt7MiDI59kwafEpPiSZvatawJLIa0daSHxyDXOE4ez6gqp6wf3V/s400/CSC_1554.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But we finally talk to the right people and head out.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1FxyPp71qtX_6MYPmVe8Up-PQ8DesAsHvxEzfuc3wn_Gnfx90Ed2jf8gqQzpAEBQzsVDcQ8kWqpf9SMzfZ1L0tBCBkI_zYX6o_2vqlyuOgzHECpMOTxtUXXQBOGYl85XjKJb5d3q2zGMu/s1600/CSC_1556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1FxyPp71qtX_6MYPmVe8Up-PQ8DesAsHvxEzfuc3wn_Gnfx90Ed2jf8gqQzpAEBQzsVDcQ8kWqpf9SMzfZ1L0tBCBkI_zYX6o_2vqlyuOgzHECpMOTxtUXXQBOGYl85XjKJb5d3q2zGMu/s640/CSC_1556.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bye, Chile! It´s been great.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtfGMiWtX6NMi4KTV5lLhGha2UwAaVpyUqwyM4Sb4RpqKVsTNavo0h-JdGT_Q4cxddOp_wW28VXaShGtoFO9IfyyNqc_JB9oABUvCl2ozW3Sw-3RQM6GqD8xYm_oL-afr1-QDYcMTFonr/s1600/CSC_1557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqtfGMiWtX6NMi4KTV5lLhGha2UwAaVpyUqwyM4Sb4RpqKVsTNavo0h-JdGT_Q4cxddOp_wW28VXaShGtoFO9IfyyNqc_JB9oABUvCl2ozW3Sw-3RQM6GqD8xYm_oL-afr1-QDYcMTFonr/s400/CSC_1557.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A final surprise: just months ago, a bridge was built over the river! Dry feet seem like a luxury when you already thought them doomed to wetness</td></tr>
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The Argentinian border is much the same. The immigration official isn't in the office, so we go knock on his door and ask to be stamped in. Since it's late, the guys there set us up in an unused school building complete with gas stove, mattresses and tons of blankets. What luxury!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TQpYBjC1BmUZy0A2-sGRh5q2W-tBsqeauU_Ht1xUXG_yYY2lMpIiwTPHqFpjoK3CJDjUPdDa-JJlWIWSDKOEoOd4ZEoMdR-v_TmUaIzR7AXML5d5tcbgeUph8QWBpvTpb8idKcLDWp5S/s1600/CSC_1558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TQpYBjC1BmUZy0A2-sGRh5q2W-tBsqeauU_Ht1xUXG_yYY2lMpIiwTPHqFpjoK3CJDjUPdDa-JJlWIWSDKOEoOd4ZEoMdR-v_TmUaIzR7AXML5d5tcbgeUph8QWBpvTpb8idKcLDWp5S/s640/CSC_1558.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The perfect end to an amazing day: sunset through the lichen-drenched Fuegian woodland</td></tr>
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<b>Argentine Tierra del Fuego </b></div>
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In the morning we spot a sign:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAb3GM4MUM_8oQ5F_dIblhbaIRPLDzD056f9-NEJmJEcPrLY5VXXDJOt9jyfuBRb_90k0n5_DK_5KC4CgWZvolRBG829RYx-lJejmpCiYyTaqx5erE_CWZPZUTJfk6KBKhkGDhtoopacB/s1600/CSC_1560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAb3GM4MUM_8oQ5F_dIblhbaIRPLDzD056f9-NEJmJEcPrLY5VXXDJOt9jyfuBRb_90k0n5_DK_5KC4CgWZvolRBG829RYx-lJejmpCiYyTaqx5erE_CWZPZUTJfk6KBKhkGDhtoopacB/s400/CSC_1560.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first sign for Ushuaia! We´re close...</td></tr>
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The expansive landscape and washboardy road reminds me of the north of Argentina, only here there are grasslands instead of sand, and guanacos instead of vicuñas. To keep things interesting, after lunch we turn off the main road and head towards some 4x4 tracks.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE9FjeY06_DWk0l7RSiU34b5jwZwrF7U51F0yi4cpiFs0g7y_L-MxKO7I1A5ld_FqRou-iYF0YznMHsB2GzP6CoTOKz42xuySDpY_PcFvY6hw5PV6G9GDJ5T8RtvwRU8e7O-P25t9nMKP/s1600/CSC_1562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE9FjeY06_DWk0l7RSiU34b5jwZwrF7U51F0yi4cpiFs0g7y_L-MxKO7I1A5ld_FqRou-iYF0YznMHsB2GzP6CoTOKz42xuySDpY_PcFvY6hw5PV6G9GDJ5T8RtvwRU8e7O-P25t9nMKP/s640/CSC_1562.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First we´re riding through a spotty forest...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-Xin8Bq03-mWwkKeOTSJMtK6Q1HHzlYPJQs-SzWf5OCl6Hwc_lel2dYGGslMNAdG8FDwVG0tgMTnbK-49yclHzJgMmi6MKWMFAg6omdsreCbMugqPlFAYZJb8ORvCuS7q6Sed2FcGgd2/s1600/CSC_1574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-Xin8Bq03-mWwkKeOTSJMtK6Q1HHzlYPJQs-SzWf5OCl6Hwc_lel2dYGGslMNAdG8FDwVG0tgMTnbK-49yclHzJgMmi6MKWMFAg6omdsreCbMugqPlFAYZJb8ORvCuS7q6Sed2FcGgd2/s400/CSC_1574.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...lichens hanging down from every branch...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelZRFrUoVX1aWcwBj4bIFRfylQGVPNA63BA7jY3L6ZtVwVs0b04I1GVRC90tFCIZ-w0Smnt7jO-0vjizm2kTAaW2-jt6vWgCtDozfP7tdQkE4PrRX03WxUE9i-0vsMrhss6xGgzVdgmgU/s1600/CSC_1561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelZRFrUoVX1aWcwBj4bIFRfylQGVPNA63BA7jY3L6ZtVwVs0b04I1GVRC90tFCIZ-w0Smnt7jO-0vjizm2kTAaW2-jt6vWgCtDozfP7tdQkE4PrRX03WxUE9i-0vsMrhss6xGgzVdgmgU/s640/CSC_1561.JPG" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...then the trees become sparser...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdkK7wpZ-o9xT6PQTxFXRpsi9_OsgTMeWi9LklwrT1sqQu_UBsqngu2qe56DYaztqZ3RexOAyLrzvi2e4pO03490z8oXy7nPT5SFraabVBOJaglTI7YAEYjwXxMvYZDmyh4ATnhACxdDD2/s1600/CSC_1575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdkK7wpZ-o9xT6PQTxFXRpsi9_OsgTMeWi9LklwrT1sqQu_UBsqngu2qe56DYaztqZ3RexOAyLrzvi2e4pO03490z8oXy7nPT5SFraabVBOJaglTI7YAEYjwXxMvYZDmyh4ATnhACxdDD2/s640/CSC_1575.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...until we find ourselves on <i>pura pampas</i>, extensive grasslands.</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, the little-used 4x4 tracks are quite muddy. The sticky mud builds up on our tires and clogs our drivetrains. We ride carefully, removing rocks when they get stuck, staying in the middle chainring to keep our chains farther from the mud-covered tires, and coasting when we can, but suddenly there's a loud CRACK! And Danny's derailleur has broken off. In the cold and mud we work to find a quick solution, removing the derailleur and shortening the chain onto a fixed gear.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-runUwRQxsbdbqulJ4LuRaoiy_Txq1pa8_GhB9Mjx6JjQfPxbjJIaDi67nBVhZy2zKv4Iy4lO1q8tqLnHSfBTx7lV_wODh3TKHmvqBFrqYPlo1potZcnJQ21tb_JEZhh-FUxnk_n3Be5/s1600/CSC_1585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-runUwRQxsbdbqulJ4LuRaoiy_Txq1pa8_GhB9Mjx6JjQfPxbjJIaDi67nBVhZy2zKv4Iy4lO1q8tqLnHSfBTx7lV_wODh3TKHmvqBFrqYPlo1potZcnJQ21tb_JEZhh-FUxnk_n3Be5/s400/CSC_1585.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hanger attaching the derailleur to the bike snapped clean off. Since Danny wasn't pedaling, we have few ideas of how it happened.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgPHS5qXWxqu6ck39mfMdInAim0I84z-foGFVCdhtPyNbszfnieeuJIQ05YBZ6FqbXdZomE1mb8XkTwcr6lT3GOxLUVQazNwg-D_TAzsr4NOyaM2G8PE9ZruDuyUI8msMepoV_JuUw22R/s1600/CSC_1586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEgPHS5qXWxqu6ck39mfMdInAim0I84z-foGFVCdhtPyNbszfnieeuJIQ05YBZ6FqbXdZomE1mb8XkTwcr6lT3GOxLUVQazNwg-D_TAzsr4NOyaM2G8PE9ZruDuyUI8msMepoV_JuUw22R/s400/CSC_1586.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With the derailleur off and the chain shortened, we´re back in business. Or not.</td></tr>
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The road is so bumpy that the chain won't stay in gear; it keeps falling off. With the sun setting quickly, we abandon plans of finding a place inside to spend the night and push our bikes quickly into a small patch of trees to camp.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXSdYHXRqadTmN5YzuHdiKKgDrMfaIwa9lrqZh0Yrc7TvZEXSoGNQr8t2nB9tqXJJ1Xqg7E_Hcg-62M3zI_gI2Vqtf9tKPVan7Kt-409PI4xDnR3NFnPJ2ed9IhELmbwfw8U_hOIOvPcc/s1600/CSC_1583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXSdYHXRqadTmN5YzuHdiKKgDrMfaIwa9lrqZh0Yrc7TvZEXSoGNQr8t2nB9tqXJJ1Xqg7E_Hcg-62M3zI_gI2Vqtf9tKPVan7Kt-409PI4xDnR3NFnPJ2ed9IhELmbwfw8U_hOIOvPcc/s640/CSC_1583.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful sunset on the mountains in the distance</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6NKbe9gWsLzQRiFDfFgK7qXfVMJaqK0oohisHf5SKTsSra7AFfFuzmZu2QlA2YhvygMA8PcQmJP_Op75pop3F0ndNWlq3sRxCoOUz7edrN3WFOgigoJIyUkKR1qMwXYb90L_4SLoAoAWl/s1600/CSC_1587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6NKbe9gWsLzQRiFDfFgK7qXfVMJaqK0oohisHf5SKTsSra7AFfFuzmZu2QlA2YhvygMA8PcQmJP_Op75pop3F0ndNWlq3sRxCoOUz7edrN3WFOgigoJIyUkKR1qMwXYb90L_4SLoAoAWl/s400/CSC_1587.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With the sun setting, our goal for the day becomes those trees in the upper left of the photo. They´re farther away than they look.</td></tr>
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Sheltered by the trees we stay warm in the tent, but in the morning the mud has frozen solid to our bikes. It takes a good fifteen minutes hacking away with metal tools to free all the moving parts of the drivetrain from their icy homes and get things moving again.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeca3_bRiPEMRWpI33_BGaoUdbeH1tD0cDT_kZ4ykGZ004X_Zxs4VUYT1Xoiyo96zWEG8usMGVmtqN27SDH-mtqTAcw2LIQRcYXBZm_7eDcC09jXL7c32Ev8gNXlKkhwzmEso2niPVmG5/s1600/CSC_1588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeca3_bRiPEMRWpI33_BGaoUdbeH1tD0cDT_kZ4ykGZ004X_Zxs4VUYT1Xoiyo96zWEG8usMGVmtqN27SDH-mtqTAcw2LIQRcYXBZm_7eDcC09jXL7c32Ev8gNXlKkhwzmEso2niPVmG5/s400/CSC_1588.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A piece of frozen mud molded to the form of a bicycle chain</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__JanQBQdc4l97La1yeUcvWGa8lW9nw_bTNGy5qSXRQnqd0Cbw5-sOjPhUrov_twTJq3RIwZW6gywT0nLF3niauRVdvaTcbW1t0fE-YGIhqQO1gX0JS_50IblT-2NGTDHnywewPmBZBxm/s1600/CSC_1589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__JanQBQdc4l97La1yeUcvWGa8lW9nw_bTNGy5qSXRQnqd0Cbw5-sOjPhUrov_twTJq3RIwZW6gywT0nLF3niauRVdvaTcbW1t0fE-YGIhqQO1gX0JS_50IblT-2NGTDHnywewPmBZBxm/s400/CSC_1589.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam hacking away</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6dC6c_xZaKOZbHXCWfHLAtfLFO55XIDmCrYVlA5cY2WYsfSUzWxXcR00D4Qy_pwlX6_PkStrflWPlpx3flgnh9KtI1Ddq3iVQ8NIdCyfMShyS4jbSf6zm9eSMSVnNL4p-gqTqKGhMm-z/s1600/CSC_1590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6dC6c_xZaKOZbHXCWfHLAtfLFO55XIDmCrYVlA5cY2WYsfSUzWxXcR00D4Qy_pwlX6_PkStrflWPlpx3flgnh9KtI1Ddq3iVQ8NIdCyfMShyS4jbSf6zm9eSMSVnNL4p-gqTqKGhMm-z/s400/CSC_1590.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our frosty road</td></tr>
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To keep Danny's chain from falling off we rig up a stick to keep it in place. Either the stick works, or this road is smoother than the last, but the chain doesn't fall out of the set gear anymore. What's more, we do some math and figure out that we can manually shift it into another gear, giving him a total of two! It's not much, but it's enough for him to pedal up and down hills. Turns out those other 25 we´ve been riding with this whole time are superfluous (except when you´re in Peru, then you only need one gear, the lowest possible).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kMxVMXygwvKd5nZdIuQ_5vSocof165xHavjz9NyXXkeYlNEWC1xpFRPKD9gJBqx_vgnYZXaMLMUZUD8LfPbZLvvF_8m0cVe4VWRMMZ6YVZ8MtGH_wBhp8Q_Wt-OSNQfVMbKwA0SSJlg0/s1600/CSC_1591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9kMxVMXygwvKd5nZdIuQ_5vSocof165xHavjz9NyXXkeYlNEWC1xpFRPKD9gJBqx_vgnYZXaMLMUZUD8LfPbZLvvF_8m0cVe4VWRMMZ6YVZ8MtGH_wBhp8Q_Wt-OSNQfVMbKwA0SSJlg0/s400/CSC_1591.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New, high-tech bike technology: a zip-tied stick</td></tr>
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Since Danny's bike is in poor condition, we don't know if the other 4x4 tracks are going to be just as bad as the last, and it's so cold this morning that we are wearing our fleece, down, and rain jackets while riding, we decide to bail on our planned route and head to Rio Grande. We ride almost 50 kilometers and are close to the city before a truck passes and we flag it down for a ride.</div>
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The driver of the truck, an Irish-Argentine fly-fisherman also named Danny, not only takes us the last few kilometers into the busy city, he drops us off right at the bike shop!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOXs4jurspFmBsFINjHlKShS0JJQqJ6yyrbCgYYSJcIBO0bmtRUeu0jGnyGWwOU0rtpU5xHJQda5UFOmrGqfRIZ9KMIYa4xXFNRu2wsoo6yBRezR5fuUpfv1qcqQop6LAJbHNxSrZMxTo8/s1600/CSC_1592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOXs4jurspFmBsFINjHlKShS0JJQqJ6yyrbCgYYSJcIBO0bmtRUeu0jGnyGWwOU0rtpU5xHJQda5UFOmrGqfRIZ9KMIYa4xXFNRu2wsoo6yBRezR5fuUpfv1qcqQop6LAJbHNxSrZMxTo8/s400/CSC_1592.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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It's soon clear that we have arrived at the right place. Benito, the owner and mechanic, moves around his shop with amazing vigor, attending to customers and fixing bikes with seamless efficiency.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgj9jnBKfsQOqmfppeR85trgNYmdHnzCMG_0WGs0JHATtYDJIyDGcNmb9OeMECqeG0n5wXpOyEC7qWVNzEUe7unN5BT-bJ5PMcRgXGCZg0Gt89MhpM0OWE7njEvSDJLJ8WtPCRs33Pg_A1/s1600/CSC_1593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgj9jnBKfsQOqmfppeR85trgNYmdHnzCMG_0WGs0JHATtYDJIyDGcNmb9OeMECqeG0n5wXpOyEC7qWVNzEUe7unN5BT-bJ5PMcRgXGCZg0Gt89MhpM0OWE7njEvSDJLJ8WtPCRs33Pg_A1/s400/CSC_1593.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Univega: the right place to be</td></tr>
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Benito helps us get the part we need and reinstall the derailleur. But something is wrong with the limit screws and when Danny takes it for a test ride it breaks again. By the time we have a functional derailleur in place it's dark outside and we ask if we can sleep on the floor of the shop. No! Instead we are loaded into the back of his enormous white van and taken to his house where we are shown our own little apartment complete with bathroom, hot shower, and mini stove. We continue to be overwhelmed by people's generosity.</div>
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Graciela, Benito's wife, invites us to stay another day, and since we're in no rush, why not?<br />
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In the morning we go out to walk around town a bit. I'm excited to see the Atlantic for the first time in so long, and the confluence of the Rio Grande with the ocean makes for an interesting, constantly-changing delta.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6oBfqGKhwKSsgjlgh9ImjtEeYVJNlKtHLBvJEmkPpCmWUYn7nJ6A92vr7I681-vmYkcfULjBzN068eT4YLJWQ71WlS3QVBItUaD4ZGVee5u_Xbk8Gb26_RpZnSVcbKZm7Pd7AkTjR1Vv-/s1600/CSC_1599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6oBfqGKhwKSsgjlgh9ImjtEeYVJNlKtHLBvJEmkPpCmWUYn7nJ6A92vr7I681-vmYkcfULjBzN068eT4YLJWQ71WlS3QVBItUaD4ZGVee5u_Xbk8Gb26_RpZnSVcbKZm7Pd7AkTjR1Vv-/s640/CSC_1599.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise over the Atlantic</td></tr>
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The city itself is extremely industrial. Argentina has established tax breaks for this region to encourage people to come down here and work in the factories. A lot of electronics are produced: TVs, cellphones, air conditioning units, and more. Since it's the closest city to the Falkland Islands, there are a lot of monuments to the Falklands War. Í feel a sneaking pleasure that the U.S., for once, wasn´t part of this debacle.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_18Sa-XQXSVYHwZ1tWxKBuHUf77tJZk0Kby2zSpkHa0pZECmdtvZN4l3vkwjf5jgOxxLMKvAoggxxDV_bZU8FPx6R0BLrlWhwaEAdP5VJULKo6HEMx1iNuWkaztgz0Qj_5n0loAbncg6/s1600/CSC_1602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig_18Sa-XQXSVYHwZ1tWxKBuHUf77tJZk0Kby2zSpkHa0pZECmdtvZN4l3vkwjf5jgOxxLMKvAoggxxDV_bZU8FPx6R0BLrlWhwaEAdP5VJULKo6HEMx1iNuWkaztgz0Qj_5n0loAbncg6/s400/CSC_1602.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Las Malvinas</i>, the Falklands. These signs are everywhere.</td></tr>
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But perhaps this area is most famous for the fishing opportunities. The Rio Grande is known for its giant trout.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YBqA_6RzkSPOCmrAerbBz6vIWoyGfkV4iPC4XSNeZb3o5OZgHtcr4bwS0_cSR7b1xh0eG8v4qH2AN3tLp1D7m5Bq9UcoFuf7xTNNzvXtxvFA8pCrH8W6ca40gI1_hN-LOtq0IayPGPIi/s400/CSC_1707.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the winners caught around the Rio Grande</td></tr>
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It so happens that today is the birthday of Benito and Graciela's son, Alessis. The whole family comes over to celebrate. We enjoy some interesting conversation, homemade pizza, and cake. We can't help but think back to our first night in Mexico when we went to a similar gathering and didn't understand any of what was going on. Tonight we're making jokes and having conversations about agriculture and genetic engineering. Our Spanish has come a long way.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv6TBvsEntxG0r3JhA2zq5-89zPF_sDKi0pgpriZvcd3lT-F761EhU0HM3-YfWve4ZthNVeYi8nHRy6gbY1HSclkckXGWw8vHqoJm6sR9E1QWId-ZibrbHPI4L3CuYExMgDz3y1aaXV6q8/s1600/CSC_1594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv6TBvsEntxG0r3JhA2zq5-89zPF_sDKi0pgpriZvcd3lT-F761EhU0HM3-YfWve4ZthNVeYi8nHRy6gbY1HSclkckXGWw8vHqoJm6sR9E1QWId-ZibrbHPI4L3CuYExMgDz3y1aaXV6q8/s640/CSC_1594.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Benito´s on the left, Graciela in the middle surrounded by her children and holding her giggling granddaughter. A happy family if I´ve ever seen one!</td></tr>
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In the morning Benito drives us out to the outskirts of the city so we don't have to go through the industrial zone. As an open-minded vegetarian, he had been one of the few people we've met in Latin America we can relate to about diet, and we're sad to say goodbye.</div>
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Our road follows the coast for a while and since it's Sunday morning, things are relatively quiet. Suddenly our attention is caught by a family pulled over on the side of the road. They're surrounding a small penguin! We pull over as well, and, appalled by how close they are getting to take pictures with it, we ask them to give it some space. I feel so bad for the little guy. It's a rockhopper, but unlike the others we saw, this one is alone, with feathers matted and falling out. With a nest this close to the road, I don't think it has much chance of survival. I know that death is part of the natural cycle, but it sucks when humans are the cause of it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor little guy</td></tr>
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It's 100 kilometers or so to Tolhuin, and on the paved main road we make excellent time. In Tolhuin there is a famous bakery that not only makes delicious treats and empanadas, it´s rumored that they host travelers! The place is busy when we arrive and we're not sure who to talk to, or even if they´re still hosting, but when the lady behind the counter sees we're cyclists she immediately puts on a coat and brings us on a tour.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sky is threatening rain, as usual, and we´re happy to arrive at the bakery just before it starts.</td></tr>
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The bakery is HUGE! with multiple buildings and cooking areas. We are shown a place to put the bikes and a small room to spend the night. We have access to a shower, a stove for cooking, and of course any baked good you can imagine. The walls of our room are covered with notes people have left detailing their travels and gratitude for this place. It's a true cycling paradise.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Some of the artwork in our room (I realized after the fact that <a href="https://theridesouth.com/2015/05/22/tierra-del-fuego-bikepacking-to-the-end-of-the-world/">Paul</a> took the same photo... imitation is flattery, right?)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGAK_RhTLXUukS9qYYzH_V6IUkkhT_6Sk-8sFfwST-E9KPctO45YXB3KXMknPN0r6E_-XGCzHc86tUZEelqcN1aZgMjxq15nl7iVXGP2f8dTWMF0ZKYUVrl44lrSVsg1dtZUALK5z-H6r/s1600/CSC_1629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGAK_RhTLXUukS9qYYzH_V6IUkkhT_6Sk-8sFfwST-E9KPctO45YXB3KXMknPN0r6E_-XGCzHc86tUZEelqcN1aZgMjxq15nl7iVXGP2f8dTWMF0ZKYUVrl44lrSVsg1dtZUALK5z-H6r/s400/CSC_1629.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some more wall artwork</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We spend several days at the bakery, each morning going into the main kitchen to "help out." The guys are so masterful at what they do that I'm pretty sure they would accomplish everything at the same rapid fire pace even without Danny and me helping. But we do our best, have a lot of fun, and eat all sorts of delicious bread and pastries throughout the morning.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I'm amazed at how this operation runs. There are mixing bowls the size of small bathtubs, racks upon racks of pastries in all different shapes, carefully folded thin dough that takes the same shape and form as cozy bedsheets, and crazy Rube Goldberg-esque machines that cut and flatten and roll the dough into perfect forms. Every day I seem to discover something new. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGYetFuWD9mhGhMF3fJm0awDLTrm305h6Z8pcRxoYQJ3-W7y3fyAKDsSVoOAk8vbrkzTCWnx3IIIyz_HMwgGgQqPPIBkXqpeGV-KyQziNHhUo1PKe06AsEM-1Yd4LDRjdySfB7TMlDyXJ/s1600/CSC_1899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinGYetFuWD9mhGhMF3fJm0awDLTrm305h6Z8pcRxoYQJ3-W7y3fyAKDsSVoOAk8vbrkzTCWnx3IIIyz_HMwgGgQqPPIBkXqpeGV-KyQziNHhUo1PKe06AsEM-1Yd4LDRjdySfB7TMlDyXJ/s400/CSC_1899.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cutting up 20 kilos of butter in a giant mixer</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_BiSm0a4Ftq8j6I_dNqlL2vcEnpUn-PXdtMU1Zfg1DOuufVlrDKqDelrF1zH4vNhGDaiNfrETi99swePZu9PdnSKie3drUZjPj3ccl9D65e8AX8weJBNBGBiBepr_xPEnuN6uzW4SAM8/s1600/CSC_1628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_BiSm0a4Ftq8j6I_dNqlL2vcEnpUn-PXdtMU1Zfg1DOuufVlrDKqDelrF1zH4vNhGDaiNfrETi99swePZu9PdnSKie3drUZjPj3ccl9D65e8AX8weJBNBGBiBepr_xPEnuN6uzW4SAM8/s640/CSC_1628.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The basic source of all the goodness: a warehouse full of floor-to-ceiling flour</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Empanadas ready for the oven</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Just as we're starting to feel at home, it's time to leave. The weather forecast says that the next days are the only sun we'll have for the next week and we're eager to get over the pass before more snow falls. Our new, wonderful friends at the bakery send us off with a big bag of pastries and rolls, all of which we helped to make! </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkjK9Bz6M794QBqXmFHRzarArBBUVp8S0nB1tIBrSRnTHcrg2n49sfi72L8Lv5ueNNcKp6A5n-1IMU8pr5HysLwrjm9eP-U_JTVu8Pdz1a4KSkqxWANOvaTYBrCTZ8kDE4QpORz20xOhM/s1600/CSC_1943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZkjK9Bz6M794QBqXmFHRzarArBBUVp8S0nB1tIBrSRnTHcrg2n49sfi72L8Lv5ueNNcKp6A5n-1IMU8pr5HysLwrjm9eP-U_JTVu8Pdz1a4KSkqxWANOvaTYBrCTZ8kDE4QpORz20xOhM/s400/CSC_1943.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Javier and Alcidres, bread masters</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The traffic is annoying, but the scenery is picture perfect all day. The fiery trees stand brilliant against snowcapped peaks, and glassy reflections dance on the small waves of clear, blue lakes. The sun is bright, warm and fierce enough to banish all the clouds from the sky. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5zSn_cNb9106sGe0_PXzmZEr1PXIkJMx6tljAJq60iEouU3-fYVlbk7AQdx4qnE2RbWkSMOhyHKTTOj_sb28cOXroj1br9BDvJ9nWmw93BG8Ue4v4K6BFKcmu6usi-0CRAJWrNAecUljA/s1600/CSC_1711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5zSn_cNb9106sGe0_PXzmZEr1PXIkJMx6tljAJq60iEouU3-fYVlbk7AQdx4qnE2RbWkSMOhyHKTTOj_sb28cOXroj1br9BDvJ9nWmw93BG8Ue4v4K6BFKcmu6usi-0CRAJWrNAecUljA/s400/CSC_1711.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Late afternoon we descend from the pass and face a decision: turn right and bike to Ushuaia tonight, or turn left to take the longer, more difficult route into the city and arrive in two days. You can probably guess which way we turned...</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The Coastal Route</b></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The last two days into the city are the perfect culmination of the trip. The riding is fun and challenging in parts, including roads, beaches, 4x4 tracks and trails. The scenery is remote and breathtakingly beautiful. We meet only one person along the way. Daniel, the caretaker of a remote estancia, is a thoughtful character, respectful of our skill as cyclists, generous with hot tea and crackers, and a lover of life and good stories. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8zatx9660aeqoWw9BBGIuhcGnHOPtgEACJk8kwNu3WM55yzHXJt-kGs2gqAOgniNU6uhZvYpsRiFHD1xtTcSEWSDXZdASp59tngjXmowiiPx84KyptJtjvMa0-hMUvmBadFVEz7kh3O5/s1600/CSC_1900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8zatx9660aeqoWw9BBGIuhcGnHOPtgEACJk8kwNu3WM55yzHXJt-kGs2gqAOgniNU6uhZvYpsRiFHD1xtTcSEWSDXZdASp59tngjXmowiiPx84KyptJtjvMa0-hMUvmBadFVEz7kh3O5/s400/CSC_1900.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We reach the coast near Puerto Almanza, where these two characters welcome us. Across the channel is the Isla Navarino and the Chilean town of Puerto Williams, the farthest south settlement in the Americas that`s inhabited year-round.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With the route literally right next to the beach the whole time, we couldn`t get enough of the superb ocean views...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-Bsy42jmssmqd-tWBp0vzc1TOpca946buU7Tku7KXARBs1u9cUkzGGItfcZymAmGb5khvL5m76tZIRA42vHs4Tga_NF1aRK5OJH1jkN19oFctM_sU84N9XRPudezp_ld_GruI_An6XC1/s1600/CSC_1902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-Bsy42jmssmqd-tWBp0vzc1TOpca946buU7Tku7KXARBs1u9cUkzGGItfcZymAmGb5khvL5m76tZIRA42vHs4Tga_NF1aRK5OJH1jkN19oFctM_sU84N9XRPudezp_ld_GruI_An6XC1/s400/CSC_1902.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...balanced by striking late-fall colors</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvIo6D7Bul6rXVSH2FdyF6TTAhIJtFn3RZm3ODGmCSqo9u69PYL5aE6GztFV48mUNdbnaAdZL9d8_5oCHfGLPMn_90TG91P-ZxGcw9Q1rXnrBl5YbqV8GIcbl14ISY5NCVixp_gis-fgk/s1600/CSC_1916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvIo6D7Bul6rXVSH2FdyF6TTAhIJtFn3RZm3ODGmCSqo9u69PYL5aE6GztFV48mUNdbnaAdZL9d8_5oCHfGLPMn_90TG91P-ZxGcw9Q1rXnrBl5YbqV8GIcbl14ISY5NCVixp_gis-fgk/s400/CSC_1916.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The largest unknown of the route: passing through this naval area unseen. Fortunately it was completely deserted</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxK1qWRX06t_44snaDCTAt1c4tBZZf6v5-R-3aWLWpIm9Dfpfr8u4i_Swcy3_CTrlZhDAW7HS0EoWt5trnURpBF3vNpVg0jRqpsB-tF6jqMQkYHbB69B-CnStZ1vIwmc_icwIf1iDGYOb/s1600/CSC_1905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxK1qWRX06t_44snaDCTAt1c4tBZZf6v5-R-3aWLWpIm9Dfpfr8u4i_Swcy3_CTrlZhDAW7HS0EoWt5trnURpBF3vNpVg0jRqpsB-tF6jqMQkYHbB69B-CnStZ1vIwmc_icwIf1iDGYOb/s640/CSC_1905.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perhaps the navy needs some more training?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv554SaWwMDxMVWD0NSqzIZnueQ8RtEKc0WDSIYXsTeBq2yGJKahi0iI6zzFGPnc9ZVBNb1Yf0keSbUB-d61NPimItjQ5QzwfjDuQKnWoeErj4TrKNWq3kEkHM3riMXfBh6GCLooyXyiCb/s1600/CSC_1906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv554SaWwMDxMVWD0NSqzIZnueQ8RtEKc0WDSIYXsTeBq2yGJKahi0iI6zzFGPnc9ZVBNb1Yf0keSbUB-d61NPimItjQ5QzwfjDuQKnWoeErj4TrKNWq3kEkHM3riMXfBh6GCLooyXyiCb/s400/CSC_1906.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole area seems to have been forgotten long ago</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghiwyouaP1fVGrvMLhRc31eWAzrTlnKsdTHsUXlNwlfOVyaFlb4MQIJpK2VblFS4KQRFYRjwaAKS4NL5_6WKRLH3bqW3zAThqiW8iSE6bOgrpAzr6uN0sEAhoC3Q8aLZ8CLsYbu3WnEW4/s1600/CSC_1907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhghiwyouaP1fVGrvMLhRc31eWAzrTlnKsdTHsUXlNwlfOVyaFlb4MQIJpK2VblFS4KQRFYRjwaAKS4NL5_6WKRLH3bqW3zAThqiW8iSE6bOgrpAzr6uN0sEAhoC3Q8aLZ8CLsYbu3WnEW4/s640/CSC_1907.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More incredible riding by the Beagle Channel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uOITCnxxdVaR_Ay11_GGxQVmKmQ09pUYqxSQruoCwp5_D7bC5lMreDvWu1U6z-Rk4cDVoD_zRy2TpsjRDtSBQFym6rHrIk6XEiUJF5m_Bi-6ND-owAE3EgnFXmiOtI3POQpy9cJ-UTh5/s1600/CSC_1910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uOITCnxxdVaR_Ay11_GGxQVmKmQ09pUYqxSQruoCwp5_D7bC5lMreDvWu1U6z-Rk4cDVoD_zRy2TpsjRDtSBQFym6rHrIk6XEiUJF5m_Bi-6ND-owAE3EgnFXmiOtI3POQpy9cJ-UTh5/s400/CSC_1910.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We pass up a shack early in the afternoon, hoping we`ll find somewhere else to spend the night. We soon find this estancia, meet Daniel, and share some thoughts and stories over dinner...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM4wlOhXmf5z-0nT9vK-7Av3e3_j-QLnGU9XbwhCx8nwh1phiP7UC0ThWr2B8q4jbEBO1jmH-QGzXan_wToCn5L4qcjhck4J29WSXQSVLrXGZLDwjGtJgJw3wpCzQqJD1dJ2MdqORmaXqz/s1600/CSC_1909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM4wlOhXmf5z-0nT9vK-7Av3e3_j-QLnGU9XbwhCx8nwh1phiP7UC0ThWr2B8q4jbEBO1jmH-QGzXan_wToCn5L4qcjhck4J29WSXQSVLrXGZLDwjGtJgJw3wpCzQqJD1dJ2MdqORmaXqz/s400/CSC_1909.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and he offers us this unused cabin for the night. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDPmD6AvyAkudVdHWEHa0Lf6hG3Ay1fwh2tHcEGtQk-xk2pfa96j7Fb_16q-juJXEi7GapDJiiakUDl_r_hZIFaoXAveTyffHLYZdKD-Ce4GoxqciuGR67G-IamBmJjL3VzhKF32xS1Is/s1600/CSC_1912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDPmD6AvyAkudVdHWEHa0Lf6hG3Ay1fwh2tHcEGtQk-xk2pfa96j7Fb_16q-juJXEi7GapDJiiakUDl_r_hZIFaoXAveTyffHLYZdKD-Ce4GoxqciuGR67G-IamBmJjL3VzhKF32xS1Is/s400/CSC_1912.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wind is howling in the morning. Seems to be common in these parts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfeFylNjY4G8WlKRL9xbxjk4ycY3f9XuQnBU4e46HUlPnzp_zMriU2L_P3-vSGS6GvtVsDZiFT1x_Td2meOSpbBRRnrj44Q7c0sE5_Es6bpVZ23fuEaqnns7W0Zoo82WLjHMjE-rDEmNTT/s1600/CSC_1913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfeFylNjY4G8WlKRL9xbxjk4ycY3f9XuQnBU4e46HUlPnzp_zMriU2L_P3-vSGS6GvtVsDZiFT1x_Td2meOSpbBRRnrj44Q7c0sE5_Es6bpVZ23fuEaqnns7W0Zoo82WLjHMjE-rDEmNTT/s400/CSC_1913.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A short stretch on the sandy, pebbly beach makes us wish we were on fatbikes...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHyTqdRuaYArWpyqa29LqV65m03tT-6_GyRIgzY8HsR1Rk-NE9fYLBMLYAJKoFsUOUta2yHiYtcC7aQxZrWhvdFHmCkTV08JaxoOcHqxO9BJdo6R7ffgesxU_IabJaeTmzG1nn57LrfvvB/s1600/CSC_1919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHyTqdRuaYArWpyqa29LqV65m03tT-6_GyRIgzY8HsR1Rk-NE9fYLBMLYAJKoFsUOUta2yHiYtcC7aQxZrWhvdFHmCkTV08JaxoOcHqxO9BJdo6R7ffgesxU_IabJaeTmzG1nn57LrfvvB/s640/CSC_1919.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...then we`re back to flat coastal grass, easily rideable, remote, and beautiful.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGw02smPJfH8z5VSjTdX5XfWsR8sZFdvbFLhHEcKfiC9kMJ4ipKoER9FyenqW_K_20hu3ORd6dWCsOJYBS9L0DHhooBToRrsAk6Or0tr6a6jvO0Lis0rjLFdjLRiqAZHkiuqQGl3Qlsay/s1600/CSC_1920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGw02smPJfH8z5VSjTdX5XfWsR8sZFdvbFLhHEcKfiC9kMJ4ipKoER9FyenqW_K_20hu3ORd6dWCsOJYBS9L0DHhooBToRrsAk6Or0tr6a6jvO0Lis0rjLFdjLRiqAZHkiuqQGl3Qlsay/s400/CSC_1920.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soon we head up into the trees and find dense, dense brush. Cue a few hours of struggling against the branches and thorns...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MOL55f8GtT5Zn7_hWEi-0PIl4JU80sqimuT5eUwbCkIYDezAuf9Ab9I0Hn9rERzY-61oFNaMLjnS05p4ZmaRMgH6o_iO6pGKRTwpmrn8FIcctTOnChsyEWdv-qZ8d-UXMyHFQNWtEKO0/s1600/CSC_1923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_MOL55f8GtT5Zn7_hWEi-0PIl4JU80sqimuT5eUwbCkIYDezAuf9Ab9I0Hn9rERzY-61oFNaMLjnS05p4ZmaRMgH6o_iO6pGKRTwpmrn8FIcctTOnChsyEWdv-qZ8d-UXMyHFQNWtEKO0/s400/CSC_1923.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but the trail after is fantastic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNUT0vYxofxWQPqyIW-omco0o4M7d1Elu6YJxq7IzwpvxpvP7p4MS-0sq9pfn3xU4R_VpIfDv_IpxHOktFkbfk-K03CJhKljPDhOkRvquNjNFTAfvBuRnk6PEP0Vm6PsH93AS0AeEiSqm/s1600/CSC_1922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNUT0vYxofxWQPqyIW-omco0o4M7d1Elu6YJxq7IzwpvxpvP7p4MS-0sq9pfn3xU4R_VpIfDv_IpxHOktFkbfk-K03CJhKljPDhOkRvquNjNFTAfvBuRnk6PEP0Vm6PsH93AS0AeEiSqm/s640/CSC_1922.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A magellanic woodpecker joins us for a bit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTWVN1n0_5s-kPlURj1LmSWH6KWwwrUsuiYAOKvJ-SMYnO3s4nu2NEc77ooVLi28oGFxtOaJx79iLoUbqZInrC9CzQHUC11IMkQLUW8kp9B8Dur3xg5RWwGwRwcVwC-Fqh86OWdoSJdxX/s1600/CSC_1925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTWVN1n0_5s-kPlURj1LmSWH6KWwwrUsuiYAOKvJ-SMYnO3s4nu2NEc77ooVLi28oGFxtOaJx79iLoUbqZInrC9CzQHUC11IMkQLUW8kp9B8Dur3xg5RWwGwRwcVwC-Fqh86OWdoSJdxX/s640/CSC_1925.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny`s yellow jacket and backpack camouflage him in the bright forest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4sB2QRCAXqudNi1YxbdmG6_Ybe03UY5S7RQYD8YA7PgEuD6j3qNcgxD24Z2Hk8B7ftuJ_za7ribvPcNQf49TYW6P8_KYtCNDuB_aqMAYjJ2Eoxld90loLpXhruWlbfYGh-Z7Oe1Z_EhM/s1600/CSC_1927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4sB2QRCAXqudNi1YxbdmG6_Ybe03UY5S7RQYD8YA7PgEuD6j3qNcgxD24Z2Hk8B7ftuJ_za7ribvPcNQf49TYW6P8_KYtCNDuB_aqMAYjJ2Eoxld90loLpXhruWlbfYGh-Z7Oe1Z_EhM/s640/CSC_1927.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then we`re out of the woods, literally, standing on the doorstep of Ushuaia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I feel numb riding into Ushuaia, partly because the wind is so cold and partly because I don't know what to think or feel. We cruise through the big industrial port, then through the main street, stopping briefly at the <i>fin del mundo</i> sign. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ9WOJRN27RC6BYCUQIIDnxHp5dVFLHHeiYsTwXJ1KbM8N2sB499LxbstRI9Qvvxz_Vak0vUFAXTwdxRKlJZV-4yJKPD_5W4LGTn0UzNAvGIxaZf5aNgc204U_xhxSxjV_3vKYfQJ6M58P/s1600/CSC_1938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ9WOJRN27RC6BYCUQIIDnxHp5dVFLHHeiYsTwXJ1KbM8N2sB499LxbstRI9Qvvxz_Vak0vUFAXTwdxRKlJZV-4yJKPD_5W4LGTn0UzNAvGIxaZf5aNgc204U_xhxSxjV_3vKYfQJ6M58P/s400/CSC_1938.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ushuaia is a busy port city</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVoXiOHyFeLX6CajJ8jw0dkDUFRoSxCpq_Gwl0jgHPwgsA_j79sKkf_khyphenhyphenxfYVEEu-0POJYhRedcuBBW9YWkcKZ8SSWyBr0_N-J4a1uXcHZzpSPpcbcyxYds7h9Ls7U0ReVegYKnId0kEN/s400/CSC_1935.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Industry abounds...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLee08XmqfRW4TyKod65071_fpyxM2P-eT9_Pb6Skas1LOLC7r6gc8GzsG4gnNWwfA32AV91kh09ZDWKePuHdSb7rl7qdmQ1gid7TQQKKTtdc2yGh-wvqevF0uRoUssKERHP0j9tLukwv/s1600/CSC_1933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSLee08XmqfRW4TyKod65071_fpyxM2P-eT9_Pb6Skas1LOLC7r6gc8GzsG4gnNWwfA32AV91kh09ZDWKePuHdSb7rl7qdmQ1gid7TQQKKTtdc2yGh-wvqevF0uRoUssKERHP0j9tLukwv/s400/CSC_1933.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but so does street artwork, making for an interesting place to take a stroll</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woohoo!</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We've
reached the city that's been our long-term goal for the last two years,
but sitting here now, both of us realize that arriving actually means
very little. What got us is here is what matters. </span></div>
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<u>Route notes:</u></div>
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<b>Chile: </b>The ferry from Punta Arenas to Porvenir runs once a day at 9 am except, if I remember correctly, Mondays. 6200 pesos p/p, bike is free.</div>
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Porvenir has shops, restaurants, internet, hotels, ATMs, etc, but best to do all that in Punta Arenas.</div>
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The route directly east from Porvenir through the Cordón Baquedano was under construction, so we took the "main" road. Very little traffic, generally good dirt surface. No natural water sources for the first 35 km out of Porvenir, though there are estancias scattered here and there. Water continues to be scarce after that, though there is the occasional freshwater stream. We filled up at an estancia, then the next day at the penguin colony. </div>
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There are some fishing shacks on the right at around km 50. At the crossroads just north of Onaisin (where you turn right for the penguin colony), there is a municipal refugio, a fantastic place to escape the crazy weather.</div>
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The <a href="http://www.pinguinorey.com/" target="_blank">king penguin colony</a> is 14 km down the road towards Cameron. 12,000 pesos p/p for entry. We filled up water, ate a hot meal (though don´t expect this), stayed with the penguins all day, then stayed at their shack about two km up the road. Even if you don´t check out the penguins, the shack makes for a wind and rain-free night, though it´s nowhere near as nice as the refugio 14km before.</div>
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Parador Russfin, after the town, was useless to us, though they do have a hotel and hot drinks available to buy after 7 pm. Better to stop in the "town" of Russfin and camp in one of the buildings. There´s a caretaker there year round, though we never figured out specifically where he lives. One of the buildings south of the road (on the right) near the east end of town, that´s all I got.</div>
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<b>Paso Bella Vista</b> closed in 2016 at the end of April, but it may not always be open after April 15. Ask at the carabineros in Porvenir.</div>
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<b>Argentina: </b>We attempted to take 4x4 roads more directly from Bella Vista to Tolhuin, cutting off time on route 3, but the mud killed my bike. It wasn´t raining and hadn´t been recently, so I would presume that 4x4 tracks in that region are relatively muddy all the time, at least in fall and winter.</div>
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In Rio Grande, there are two bike shops, Everest Outdoor and <a href="http://www.btt.com.ar/bici/299570-univega" target="_blank">Univega</a>. Everest has shiny, expensive, brand-name parts. Univega has Benito Vega, who, if you´re a touring cyclist, can help you much more than an overpriced Shimano replacement. He machines his own parts and can figure out a creative solution to any problem. Contact info:</div>
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<b>Univega</b><br />
Viedma 329, Rio Grande<br />
02964-430391 (you may need to add a +54 at the beginning and leave off the first 0)<br />
Univega_tdf@hotmail.com.ar<br />
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There is a dirt road alternate part of the way from Rio Grande to Tolhuin; see <a href="https://velofreedom.bike/2015/05/24/argentine-tierra-del-fuego-lightly-bumping-the-buffers/" target="_blank">here</a> for details.</div>
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<b>Bikepacking to Ushuaia: </b></div>
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The route is easy to follow, as it stays by the coast pretty much the entire way. All tracks are on Open Maps.</div>
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Shortly after the top of Paso Garibaldi, take a left onto smooth dirt route "J" towards Puerto Almanza. About 36 km to the fishing village, where you can probably find some simple supplies if need be, through don't rely on much being open in fall and winter.</div>
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15ish km on the road brings you to a restricted naval area; hop the fence and continue. Apparently the area is used only every 2-3 months, so chances of being caught are low. Even so, be aware of the comments here. We were there on Saturday and didn't see anyone.</div>
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About 7 km in the naval area to Remolino, where there's an awesome sunken ship, a few run-down shacks (didn't try the doors), and a river crossing. Follow tractor trails along the coast; road quality deteriorates into mud, but it's still all rideable and easy to follow. There's a small "shelter" in a few km, just some tin roofing overlaying a bent tree trunk, and a more sturdy (and open) building a few km beyond that, under a large antenna. Push on the beach for a few hundred meters before freestyling on the coastal grass to an estancia. Daniel, the caretaker, will probably be there; he has some unused buildings, one of which he let us sleep in.</div>
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After the estancia, there's a deeper river (I rode across but still got my feet wet), then it's back to the beach for a km or so. Stay down by the coast. Some of the beach is rideable with a standard mountain bike, but most not due to deep, loose sand and rocks. As soon as the beachside cliff gives way to flat grass, freestyle some more then go around the fence marking the end of the naval area.</div>
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Follow the steep, dense trail up into the trees. This 5 km is the hardest, with fallen trees, mud, super steep inclines, and very dense brush.</div>
When you're reaching the end of the thorny bushwhacking, you'll see a flat, grassy bulge of land into the ocean: that's where the Rio Encajonado drains. Cross the knee-deep river by the beach (or risk your life on the sketchy suspended tree trunk), then head back uphill. The trail from there on is a dream, especially compared to where you've been: scenic, technical, clear, and almost all rideable with no more frigid river crossings. Near Estancia Túnel turn uphill and follow a muddy but mostly fantastic ATV track (fork left after a few km to head steeply downhill). There's also apparently a trail that traverses this part from Estancia Túnel staying by the coast. The ATV track spits you out onto a dirt road, follow the coast 10 km to Ushuaia centro.<br />
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Many thanks to <a href="https://theridesouth.com/">Paul</a> for sending us some helpful notes and to<a href="http://www.whileoutriding.com/south-america/patagonia/bikepack-ushuaia"> Cass</a> for pioneering the route.<br />
GPX track <a href="https://www.dropbox.com/s/rnp30816grfjpm3/Ush%20Coastal%20Route.gpx?dl=0">here</a> (drawn, not recorded).</div>
Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-14648520921679216072016-04-15T15:31:00.000-07:002016-04-27T08:28:09.461-07:00Beachin´<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Puerto Natales-Villa Tehuelche-Rio Grande-Seno Otway-Punta Arenas</i></div>
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Once you start looking at maps and wondering how to connect the lines, you can't help but end up on an adventure. The route we took from Puerto Natales to Punta Arenas was just this kind of thing. We took the main road to a side road, to a little track, to no road at all, just beach!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP19kyAPTdtjVKYHXj51u3140ZMws36FhWhLaMBQpmUX0wCQp0R3TB4MobqtET9qhqmQZNsUSt38XB9yC-e_4eLbenZdiIAxvpFwOGimN0gsGjEbgpJBWYEWwMvCE7RYAXOd8FMG_GfvkN/s1600/CSC_0617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP19kyAPTdtjVKYHXj51u3140ZMws36FhWhLaMBQpmUX0wCQp0R3TB4MobqtET9qhqmQZNsUSt38XB9yC-e_4eLbenZdiIAxvpFwOGimN0gsGjEbgpJBWYEWwMvCE7RYAXOd8FMG_GfvkN/s640/CSC_0617.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Our first night out of Puerto Natales is spent in this luxurious little shack...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...before we hit the pavement again. Rheas provide frequent entertainment on the road...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...while the trees remind us just how windy it usually is around here.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">We spin through a bit of pavement, then, before we have even sighted the ocean, the adventure begins. A green van passes us going the opposite direction, then stops, turns around, and comes back towards us. Soon we are chatting with Sergio, proud owner of Estancia Rio Verde, out searching for some escaped sheep. After just a couple of minutes he has invited us to spend the night at the estancia, and off we go!<br /><br />Perhaps some of our (most devoted) blog readers remember Clutch, an entertaining retired gold miner who we met in the very north of Alaska. In my mind, Sergio is his southern counterpart. Both are fantastic characters with jolly paunches and a penchant for collecting things and stories of the past.<br /><br />Sergio's stories are particularly entertaining because of the way he tells them, always referring to people as "monkeys" or "crazies," and recounting tales in the same mischievous manner of a teenage girl, adding "shut up!" to the ends of sentences. One gets the sense talking to him that the world is a wild and marvelous place.<br /><br />He takes us on a tour of the gorgeous old estancia decorated with driftwood, drawings of local wildlife, and pressed plants. We learn that ships traveling through the Strait of Magellan came up here to refuel on coal before heading northward. The Panama Canal ruined all that, although the coal mine still exists, but a new industry is starting to take its place: salmon farming.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soon we´re at the beautiful Estancia Rio Verde...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...taking in Sergio´s collection of hats, among many other things.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and how can we refuse the local Patagonian drink? For a cheap beer, it´s delicious.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br />We spend a comfy night inside and begin the next morning with a double rainbow and pancakes with real maple syrup! We feel a bit sad leaving Sergio; he's clearly lonely out here and struggling to care for his vast estate, but we're also excited for the road ahead.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A morning rainbow over the Estancia<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A monument to the <i>huasos</i>, the cowboys</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And there´s the owner himself, Sergio. </td></tr>
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Just down the road is the municipality of Rio Verde. It's a small, cozy collection of new-looking buildings. The shiny ferry terminal has free coffee and computers available for public use. The municipality has also sponsored various refuges along the road for locals herding cattle for long distances (though I think cold cyclists use them more often). According to Sergio, there are more than 100 government employees here and less than 80 residents. I don't know how accurate those numbers are, but it's clear that the government has invested a lot in this area. I'm not sure why; no one is out here!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArhrRZoqM9HxE80EzugVaHFOVNXwiK3B_dHr0509kRQ0LFNzkxyWEPnDNGNxQNG6VfZPMxYj7ZY03YwaUoegYyUm1ZEOB5V9ZlbcSJtXZ0mXOqklRrHpaJzyzvH8nR7yklOtkcfSQFrPt/s1600/CSC_0853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArhrRZoqM9HxE80EzugVaHFOVNXwiK3B_dHr0509kRQ0LFNzkxyWEPnDNGNxQNG6VfZPMxYj7ZY03YwaUoegYyUm1ZEOB5V9ZlbcSJtXZ0mXOqklRrHpaJzyzvH8nR7yklOtkcfSQFrPt/s640/CSC_0853.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out here, mostly what we find are ¨flag trees,¨ so named for their branches stretching out to one side, like a flag.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">All morning our road follows the coast. Early afternoon we leave the road for a track, then leave the track for the beach. Oddly, today is perfectly still with hardly a breath of wind, and thus water and sand meet with hardly a ripple. Tide pools formed amongst rocks and sandbars mirror the shapes of the long clouds and take on perfect reflections. We ride quietly, in awe, pedaling slowly through a seamlessly connected world of land, water, and sky.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCsvy7rQnvCU1UN_W-FmOPLBuLcWXK_j1IEkyon_MLcteJIt0Bt5tQ4ZykINCp7xHiuziIjAlFrJtESNcOi55dDaX_n35OplXHt1ya6IKv2oQ9O0boADUPfgs15BgKEujrBt7knYyl09-w/s1600/CSC_0855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCsvy7rQnvCU1UN_W-FmOPLBuLcWXK_j1IEkyon_MLcteJIt0Bt5tQ4ZykINCp7xHiuziIjAlFrJtESNcOi55dDaX_n35OplXHt1ya6IKv2oQ9O0boADUPfgs15BgKEujrBt7knYyl09-w/s640/CSC_0855.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy to be off the main road, we follow little tracks...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGn8dR1p8bIjmp_tfu49LKnzlmEV4_bsklqagxURraG7EpjA54XNEYsTTYWy81CkBX6XzcovMbeu5_dFXcXFQ_ZmQoze3i2T2kXtS_2wqN3jLN45clPLWnNKsFWDD-uRDrd38N-0FgKHi3/s1600/CSC_0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGn8dR1p8bIjmp_tfu49LKnzlmEV4_bsklqagxURraG7EpjA54XNEYsTTYWy81CkBX6XzcovMbeu5_dFXcXFQ_ZmQoze3i2T2kXtS_2wqN3jLN45clPLWnNKsFWDD-uRDrd38N-0FgKHi3/s640/CSC_0857.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...past weathered fishing shacks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOSntQKEgLC81ZDIV3TflLGAwe1lhEYlllh8QiOo6sWepNtYk9aHWhgwMZxVDPhIPTdAhAT6rw69t3eoFybzBYE4r-nT7oRgaTFfrdZJUjgWfhOYUdr8_ed6D_jC_wfLJqD-k6SPkzZes/s1600/CSC_0874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGOSntQKEgLC81ZDIV3TflLGAwe1lhEYlllh8QiOo6sWepNtYk9aHWhgwMZxVDPhIPTdAhAT6rw69t3eoFybzBYE4r-nT7oRgaTFfrdZJUjgWfhOYUdr8_ed6D_jC_wfLJqD-k6SPkzZes/s640/CSC_0874.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'd like to think this one was built only from what washed up on the beach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ya-SECvSbxJ9fknEYEMoHp33o4b_ueXzCUu-AygZhyphenhyphenAGwaTE7a0DWJ_8BfsOudTkgYJg1W0EYh7RuHaiP7fEWDIx7FWJNQ_XhWg-_2bDt83Jm90-P7ntXeATvqZtEd6VLY-pieMI94RB/s1600/CSC_0878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ya-SECvSbxJ9fknEYEMoHp33o4b_ueXzCUu-AygZhyphenhyphenAGwaTE7a0DWJ_8BfsOudTkgYJg1W0EYh7RuHaiP7fEWDIx7FWJNQ_XhWg-_2bDt83Jm90-P7ntXeATvqZtEd6VLY-pieMI94RB/s640/CSC_0878.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then we turn onto the beach...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEfowVOqHsuyYpjc8EyvgrudUFeI8vr2eNhF4lInGpP5apC__7w15RrGJdhnaehQ3l7WD_RLIN8sh6tJXCMsqtaXKBarEPWSV3N4YPcTBT5dGRIoITSYHw5_Ss2W0BvKlLCJoXkqaYmCJ/s1600/CSC_0870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEfowVOqHsuyYpjc8EyvgrudUFeI8vr2eNhF4lInGpP5apC__7w15RrGJdhnaehQ3l7WD_RLIN8sh6tJXCMsqtaXKBarEPWSV3N4YPcTBT5dGRIoITSYHw5_Ss2W0BvKlLCJoXkqaYmCJ/s400/CSC_0870.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...avoiding the thousands of desiccating, alien-like jellyfish.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIkDSOTU6HdNnp32TlVoru4qEfYQ7K4IHpJ6iK-YXB45hGJC0Yrn0BBr22glUsi5cbGh2MPTTVuanapbyp2B2l1iHZEL6V9BSDwhLZx4CJZipqFMzZvVZXJh_rTBK5qMxnm0si9S4B2Ar2/s1600/CSC_0883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIkDSOTU6HdNnp32TlVoru4qEfYQ7K4IHpJ6iK-YXB45hGJC0Yrn0BBr22glUsi5cbGh2MPTTVuanapbyp2B2l1iHZEL6V9BSDwhLZx4CJZipqFMzZvVZXJh_rTBK5qMxnm0si9S4B2Ar2/s640/CSC_0883.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sand is a dream to ride on...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJc-bkZ34Y5Nj8SdGWItGwJzOksrv3FrI90RFED5aFf2m5_pO-5cqowQJlFN1YzqnApASQBFenGOpnilv3l7aV4KBre4ns0PSNdvGStQJpuoiULyFr71ZGnP3hw0qzfKViuvI3rWu398rG/s1600/CSC_0880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJc-bkZ34Y5Nj8SdGWItGwJzOksrv3FrI90RFED5aFf2m5_pO-5cqowQJlFN1YzqnApASQBFenGOpnilv3l7aV4KBre4ns0PSNdvGStQJpuoiULyFr71ZGnP3hw0qzfKViuvI3rWu398rG/s640/CSC_0880.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...making the going easy for numerous kilometers. No cars out here!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXKHFcftOKByKJ1osWCQYYZjck-9MlQcaFgXbqgzZ2LphVBZvpXyF0fu7FB5rdCO5-p9tDZzzijJ6OAuE0nuwZNKHj2TzQQDCwWjL4JhVx82oEy_iTTdXCP1oQcOdsD-KVhymiTndhYsaT/s1600/CSC_0932.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXKHFcftOKByKJ1osWCQYYZjck-9MlQcaFgXbqgzZ2LphVBZvpXyF0fu7FB5rdCO5-p9tDZzzijJ6OAuE0nuwZNKHj2TzQQDCwWjL4JhVx82oEy_iTTdXCP1oQcOdsD-KVhymiTndhYsaT/s640/CSC_0932.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
After turning away from the beach it takes us just a morning to get to Punta Arenas. It's clear that no one (besides cows) has used this road in a while, so various people have built their fences right across it. We finally find out why: a deep hole in the road where a culvert has caved in. The grand finale comes just before reaching the main road when we find ourselves in the middle of an industrial plant: concrete trucks driving around and active large machinery. Thankfully the confused guard lets us through the exit gate without hassle when we explain that we got a bit lost and are just trying to get to Punta Arenas.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTNyhjvb-zOV5JwuZUFUy5idxMjBxB8gHPfT_s68kDIGHRnJiNppdREmuge1Ysz3EgSM2insqDaZFhDpfSP8VfS8YFDONAAoYW0mElL-t33Ya-dqPx_FJIt0PWFA1MbsOWuIegsVbheOY/s1600/CSC_0887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTNyhjvb-zOV5JwuZUFUy5idxMjBxB8gHPfT_s68kDIGHRnJiNppdREmuge1Ysz3EgSM2insqDaZFhDpfSP8VfS8YFDONAAoYW0mElL-t33Ya-dqPx_FJIt0PWFA1MbsOWuIegsVbheOY/s640/CSC_0887.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the beach, we don´t see any cars until meeting back up with the main road in Punta Arenas. Perhaps it´s because this is a private mine road...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HTMO4ZSNIm6tFrjVJFbBHvn8_re8puIGXphjDaHRve_LusPtdi2n-svRWI2yOO-CQYFP-DIpI6dtKoSeDyhQ5lyY4P31vRUM8T2a8ziJ8MmMn3uQYtQgA1FWwhzQ06EEs3p72oVIUs4T/s1600/CSC_0888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HTMO4ZSNIm6tFrjVJFbBHvn8_re8puIGXphjDaHRve_LusPtdi2n-svRWI2yOO-CQYFP-DIpI6dtKoSeDyhQ5lyY4P31vRUM8T2a8ziJ8MmMn3uQYtQgA1FWwhzQ06EEs3p72oVIUs4T/s640/CSC_0888.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...or perhaps it´s because of this giant hole.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Punta Arenas is big! It has been a long time since we've been this in a city this large, and after the tranquility of the coast it's quite overwhelming. But instincts kick in and it's not long before we've successfully found food, a good place to stay, and a friend who we last saw weeks ago!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyZv-OTa10HD3yMhaQ2BXK4aSz-60yEwtyU6gIJS4e4JdqQvnj4_oeCwRrAJDIr6UOh3ZGzC8N64sCJ1wQTOuuOjs49nte90xRdtq8DJUTups8cPjWErABjfNzGYY45OhonW9vaHtvnPF/s1600/CSC_0927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidyZv-OTa10HD3yMhaQ2BXK4aSz-60yEwtyU6gIJS4e4JdqQvnj4_oeCwRrAJDIr6UOh3ZGzC8N64sCJ1wQTOuuOjs49nte90xRdtq8DJUTups8cPjWErABjfNzGYY45OhonW9vaHtvnPF/s640/CSC_0927.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Punta Arenas has opulent colonial buildings...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhecjI0thNJZlPAGdTveDjjrz8nUyNGfMVLBHO4ytCuvP8Np5JpVDbND83sAVbV7KTSGN-RJ1C2FzIdlPHZA87NwEQXZ1zp0pkThNWgg5WhcUmJigORZRcJYQ7MC0E1vxXVdbW85C4SN44X/s1600/CSC_0926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhecjI0thNJZlPAGdTveDjjrz8nUyNGfMVLBHO4ytCuvP8Np5JpVDbND83sAVbV7KTSGN-RJ1C2FzIdlPHZA87NwEQXZ1zp0pkThNWgg5WhcUmJigORZRcJYQ7MC0E1vxXVdbW85C4SN44X/s640/CSC_0926.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but reminders of its hardworking, oceanic past lie everywhere.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Bjt7XopzbXLyfOsRY3Ja4ig8z_xSCuoliJ4cVicNaDUpLps32wfcTMIlxJ65MntERoJMVeh-9-GActYelC8mKQsepgQmzyarzi01Y1lN1yxwSj3m3TiYM4n3L4BracEPKSMosFkC471n/s1600/CSC_0891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Bjt7XopzbXLyfOsRY3Ja4ig8z_xSCuoliJ4cVicNaDUpLps32wfcTMIlxJ65MntERoJMVeh-9-GActYelC8mKQsepgQmzyarzi01Y1lN1yxwSj3m3TiYM4n3L4BracEPKSMosFkC471n/s400/CSC_0891.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Punta Arenas also has plenty of wonderful shops...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6u9QwuwUs_b5lsYrchyphenhyphenquCiUCyzAM4TioZEjp1CKlktRWVIc_LwyPw7lLFhqZpTNNPRKRi445JDyD1sZU_GCuU34AooiiYwSVtbu2CJXtJkAGPY7pV2LajhfAsPzzdoKnfjQDohvIyWK/s1600/CSC_0929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6u9QwuwUs_b5lsYrchyphenhyphenquCiUCyzAM4TioZEjp1CKlktRWVIc_LwyPw7lLFhqZpTNNPRKRi445JDyD1sZU_GCuU34AooiiYwSVtbu2CJXtJkAGPY7pV2LajhfAsPzzdoKnfjQDohvIyWK/s400/CSC_0929.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and bird life everywhere. Here, a kelp gull.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAS5dsakM8LH06cycHnhFfYIvKpiHO-aPfKVcGnc-LOYazz0rJ3WxnSRMKZlxoMUanDpoJcBdhqMas_3dd6ncxLEPzz0u1kSXj4YXoX-vSfWljbOTkBBkta6ysDvsvLGkZFDOdYiaGOrQ/s1600/CSC_0931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAS5dsakM8LH06cycHnhFfYIvKpiHO-aPfKVcGnc-LOYazz0rJ3WxnSRMKZlxoMUanDpoJcBdhqMas_3dd6ncxLEPzz0u1kSXj4YXoX-vSfWljbOTkBBkta6ysDvsvLGkZFDOdYiaGOrQ/s640/CSC_0931.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tires aren´t supposed to do that, right?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS50upSzBlf07jc0DYmElqfvoqSAVEx5NrLNXuUWdGLRQAetQT1T3eityDUm0OUOMRJa2eSOHtHJILpIPM-h8eSurwMARuqi23iGrEZv21CvhGC5_Q3zwaJ1MP_M3uLXPCebjKUlmTdkvE/s1600/CSC_0935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS50upSzBlf07jc0DYmElqfvoqSAVEx5NrLNXuUWdGLRQAetQT1T3eityDUm0OUOMRJa2eSOHtHJILpIPM-h8eSurwMARuqi23iGrEZv21CvhGC5_Q3zwaJ1MP_M3uLXPCebjKUlmTdkvE/s400/CSC_0935.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">We met Horacio about a month ago and have coincidentally crossed paths with him in every town ever since. A lawyer from Santiago, he quit his job to see what life is all about. Before we arrived in Punta Arenas, we sent him a message to meet up again. The message didn´t go through, but no matter, there he was at the second hotel we went to.</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Our bikes are limping to the finish, so today is for some bike maintenance, birdwatching along the beautiful straight of Magellan, and preparing for the last section of our trip. We'll be on a ferry to Tierra del Fuego tomorrow. And look for our next, and final, post from Ushuaia!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Route Notes:</div>
<div>
In Morro Chico, the large building on the left before the carabineros is unlocked and abandoned. It made for a comfy night out of the wind and cold. Thanks, Aritz and Esti!</div>
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Kudos and thanks to <a href="http://offroute.ca/" target="_blank">Skyler</a> for pioneering this route and to <a href="http://velofreedom.bike/2015/05/02/peachy-beachy-patagonian-business/" target="_blank">Nathan </a>for his GPS track. Route notes <a href="http://offroute.ca/2014/03/19/beach-riding-at-the-bottom-of-patagonia/" target="_blank">here</a>, in the comments section.</div>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-85628946852695927402016-04-10T15:32:00.000-07:002016-04-14T20:57:54.062-07:00Fun on Foot: Our Trek in Torres del PaineThe original idea for our trip involved biking to National Parks and then going on backpacking trips, leaving the bikes behind. Although things have changed along the way and we've converted more to "bikepacking" - going off-road with our bikes - we couldn't pass up an opportunity to go trekking in the world-famous Torres del Paine National Park (pronounced PIE-nay). With about a week to spend in the park, we decided to hike what is known as the "O," a circuit around the massif of magnificent peaks. Here's the report of our seven beautiful days on foot.<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Torres del Paine: nothing if not scenic</td></tr>
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<br><b>Day 1: Laguna Amarga to Serón, 14 km</b><br><br>Our day starts early as we board a bus in Puerto Natales and zoom off towards Torres del Paine. It's a clear morning, and as we approach we peer out the windows at the stark mountains. We're dropped off at the park entrance, and chaos starts immediately. People from three different buses are crowding into a small room. Some people have forms they are filling out, some people are trying to figure out where to get the forms, and other people, with completed forms, are forming an unclear, serpentine line through the midst of everything.</div>
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<br>When we finally pay our entrance fee we have a chance to ask a CONAF ranger about the privately managed campgrounds; we´ve heard that some of them are closed, and since camping is only permitted in the few campgrounds, it´s important that we know where to go. (CONAF stands for Corporación Nacional Forestal, the equivalent of the National Park Service in the U.S.) The first ranger tells us that all campgrounds are open, but another then tells us that some are closed, but we can still camp there. "Are there bathrooms?" She shrugs.</div>
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<br>Armed with this conflicting information and a park map that does not show distances, only how many hours it takes to walk each section of trail, we head into the next room to watch an informational video. Crammed behind a lot of surprisingly tall visitors, we listen to a series of repetitive announcements about how it is illegal to light fires in the park and how many fees and how much jail time you will receive if connected to one of these fires.<br>Finally released to begin our hike, we look to fill up our water bottles. Unfortunately there is no tap, and our bottles do not fit under the tiny bathroom sinks. We set off <i>sin agua</i>. Hardly an auspicious start.<br><br>All this provides quite a welcome and immediately inspires a conversation on management. If it's this crowded now, what's it like in high season? What sort of communication should be required between the owners of the private campgrounds and CONAF? Why are threats used in place of fire safety education? It's the start of a long dialogue that will continue throughout the entirety of our hike.<br><br>After hiking a short distance on the road, we find our friend Fabio looking lost at the trailhead. Fabio is a cyclist we've met randomly a few times before, including on our bus that morning, and we are happily surprised to discover that he is planning to do the same hike! We three cyclists set off together, awkwardly learning how to walk again.<br><br>Fabio is from Brazil and has a wonderful sense of humor that gets us through the first painful day. Although, to be honest, mostly I think we're laughing because we can barely understand him; his mix of Portuguese and Spanish is uniquely incomprehensible.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There he is, Fabio</td></tr>
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Fabio didn´t bring what we think of as "backpacking" food, just a kilo of flour, 15 hardboiled eggs, some potatoes, butter, oil, and a jar of <i>dulce de leche</i>, which is like peanut butter if it were distilled from dairy and had eight times more sugar. With characteristic style, he somehow makes it work. Here, he shows us his technique for making "bread." The finished product most closely resembles bland pancakes, so he slathers it with <i>dulce de leche</i> and butter. Bam! Lunch.</div>
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Serón was closed as of April 1, but we were still allowed to camp there for free with no services (though there is an outhouse).<br><br><b>Day 2: Serón to Dickson, 18 km</b><br><br>We wake up in the darkness to mice scurrying around our tent, pots clanging, and people yelling about oats for breakfast. Our campground is packed with 25 tents, all way too close together, in my opinion, and this is the off-season! Outside on the picnic tables are remnants of last night's festivities: glass bottles of various liquors and wine. Never in my life have I seen backpackers carrying such things! Maybe after a few days of carrying their heavy, empty bottles, they'll have learned something.<br>With our sore bodies and annoyance at disrespectful other hikers, we wonder what we are doing out here when we could be in the middle of nowhere on our bikes. But, we decide to persevere.<br><br>Once we're hiking, things are quiet again and we have the trail to ourselves. The scenery gets better and better as we hike and our day ends with an amazing view of the Dickson Glacier, a massive ice chunk that looks like a fantastically iced cake. Or maybe I'm just hungry.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scenery gets a bit more interesting as we hike towards these mountains...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and the stormy skies add another element to the landscape.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maybe because of the winds blowing off the giant icefield right over there, the clouds take on some crazy forms</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A UFO?</td></tr>
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We invite two Israeli guys to use our picnic table to cook dinner, since it seems to be the only non-windy area in the campsite. Rotem is recently out of the army, inquisitive and thoughtful. Eldad is a bit older, a good storyteller and excellent backcountry cook. They become wonderful new friends and we spend the rest of our trek together.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny and Rotem. Photo thanks to Rotem</td></tr>
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Dickson is a pay site, but no one was around when we arrived and no one told us we needed to pay, so?<br><br><br><b>Day 3: Dickson to Paso, 17.5 or 23km*</b><br><br>The challenge of today is John Gardner pass, the highest pass and steepest climb on the route. We reach the start of it in early afternoon and eat a big lunch in an effort to make our packs just a bit lighter.</div>
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<br>As we begin to climb out of the shelter of the trees, the wind starts to gust. One second we're fine, and the next the wind is blowing so hard that I can't keep my balance. Immediately I sit down and huddle under my pack. Danny, still on his feet is getting blown down the mountain, and I'm screaming at him to "sit down!" Finally he's down and the wind stops. The wild moment is past. But, Danny's sunglasses blew off his face and away, somewhere. We set off to search the landscape, hoping to find a needle in a haystack. Miraculously I find the frames, but the lenses are long gone.<br><br>We've learned our lesson. Our eclectic team (Fabio, us, Rotem, and Eldad) slowly makes its way to the top of the pass, sitting down to weather the screaming gusts of wind. Happily, the view at the top is well worth our efforts.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We hike up to the pass through shady forest...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...arriving later, far above treeline, to impressive views on the other side. That´s Rotem in the photo.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rotem, Danny, Fabio, Tam, and Eldad waiting for the wind to pass. Check out Danny´s and Fabio´s faces, they´re priceless. Thanks for the photo, Rotem.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rotem and Eldad making their way down...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...towards the unmistakeable, incredible, jaw-dropping Grey Glacier.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinebQX8zW2vcmRA9oEzkQq0AZROBQ9nmGphQC4-mv9TMHLuHewQqrqXoJbqXszotWk0Qv7WEOhNJW1VhiLCTI1TMRAoRlEMz3MwyoPvu-OIQiMzTT4ixVux5kp-KyOjjLQKtnTHB-u9PT0/s1600/CSC_0198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinebQX8zW2vcmRA9oEzkQq0AZROBQ9nmGphQC4-mv9TMHLuHewQqrqXoJbqXszotWk0Qv7WEOhNJW1VhiLCTI1TMRAoRlEMz3MwyoPvu-OIQiMzTT4ixVux5kp-KyOjjLQKtnTHB-u9PT0/s640/CSC_0198.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting down for the wind just gives us more time to take it all in...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyR7wfqI_ZUslFo5Z9ExvF7u1CXrXD7wUQM5hYrc43v_SN6OYBvnKiOmrKYAMx-zlRIjlphdDXLdS-DYaRB9DzpvncP_aBFxa8kZd0g3ZLpSC_KnnF5RLetpgW3utvmnfXFEEiPJ_05xA/s1600/CSC_0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoyR7wfqI_ZUslFo5Z9ExvF7u1CXrXD7wUQM5hYrc43v_SN6OYBvnKiOmrKYAMx-zlRIjlphdDXLdS-DYaRB9DzpvncP_aBFxa8kZd0g3ZLpSC_KnnF5RLetpgW3utvmnfXFEEiPJ_05xA/s640/CSC_0201.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...before we descend to the autumn-tinged forest once again.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXq4q6VAoqMXhSi4r4YmkBhR3e2UhEnmoJKTL8siaVbWMUHRi4XEHDKAc6_D2FbiRQg-VNigpEmhyphenhyphenj8ygO6KLdz1qS2mLvIcQT6706S1BP8ls2HsMr3Ng86SRa0chEreNMCih5P8Dh4kR8/s1600/CSC_0428.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXq4q6VAoqMXhSi4r4YmkBhR3e2UhEnmoJKTL8siaVbWMUHRi4XEHDKAc6_D2FbiRQg-VNigpEmhyphenhyphenj8ygO6KLdz1qS2mLvIcQT6706S1BP8ls2HsMr3Ng86SRa0chEreNMCih5P8Dh4kR8/s400/CSC_0428.JPG" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No lenses, no problem.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Paso is a free CONAF site. </div>
<div>
<br><br><b>Day 4: Paso to Italiano, 26 or 29 km*</b><br><br>We wake up in a cloud of snow, and I'm immediately grateful that we came over the pass yesterday and not this morning. Fabio is tired from yesterday and tells us that he's not going anywhere today. We leave him laughing and making bread dough in his tent.<br><br>When we reach Refugio Grey, our quiet trail suddenly becomes packed. We've reached the even more popular hiking route known as the "W" - which traverses the front side of the mountains in the shape of a W - and are immediately happy that we hiked the whole circuit, that we had a chance to enjoy the scenery without the crowds. Over the next few days we find the W to be much busier, wider, rockier and more developed than the O.</div>
<div>
<br>When lunchtime rolls around, however, we're not begrudging of the infrastructure. One of the lodges serves as a wonderful indoor refuge from the frigid wind.<br><br>Arriving in Italiano campground, we are quickly overwhelmed by the amount of people. Tents seem to be on every inch of ground, and the cooking shelter is overflowing. It's surrounded by people crouched on stumps and rocks with food, stoves, and pots and pans all around. Somehow we squish onto one of the picnic tables and begin to eat. The other hikers at the table are commiserating over how unprepared they are. Topics include how awful their Nike hightop shoes are for hiking, how they've never used a camp stove and couldn´t cook pasta, and how poorly they set up their tents. At this point we are joined by two other hikers who exclaim that they didn't bring any food at all! Luckily they were able to buy a few cans of beans at the lodge but they had to eat them cold at lunch. Everyone groans sympathetically at how horrible this is. Danny and I are appalled. Neither of us knows what to say to this crowd; we have no way to relate.<br><br>Perhaps it's a good thing that this park provides opportunities for everyone, but I wonder, if hikers can get away with being so unprepared and the park staff doesn't make an effort to educate them, how they will learn?</div>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisM_8VJ_NWkPyLoA919D1VIflGT7IMpaep4kSn8b_ghf-4P7mz2AO1ZvTMLnrZ1j4jxJvGGKdjzDJBe51UGMJ8Fg-uqTaTgsNnRLqVXHwWf2n5BXdWVYNfELiSsdkj3nkzlQTcteuk_D7j/s1600/CSC_0279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisM_8VJ_NWkPyLoA919D1VIflGT7IMpaep4kSn8b_ghf-4P7mz2AO1ZvTMLnrZ1j4jxJvGGKdjzDJBe51UGMJ8Fg-uqTaTgsNnRLqVXHwWf2n5BXdWVYNfELiSsdkj3nkzlQTcteuk_D7j/s640/CSC_0279.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In spite of all the clueless trekkers, the scenery continues to be spectacular.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1Hdzzxtv3kbbgiydTZ4dDC2QpQLRS9eMW-V0bmf8RT-3QcleWA4MjLV6oxQml2JNFNEx0vHSj9BMxgbCfVY-gUyKb4PwlhiIkRqWti6alhwkrKAljxJLd9fBeZ3tyYmzwhu8TB3-xJ72/s1600/CSC_0281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1Hdzzxtv3kbbgiydTZ4dDC2QpQLRS9eMW-V0bmf8RT-3QcleWA4MjLV6oxQml2JNFNEx0vHSj9BMxgbCfVY-gUyKb4PwlhiIkRqWti6alhwkrKAljxJLd9fBeZ3tyYmzwhu8TB3-xJ72/s640/CSC_0281.JPG" width="424"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail requires faith in some rather puny cables...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4z4_x0o5e-ct-0S1HqTB2ETHXHTpVEmYNUikSxjBaKRWZZVsOKkeYIAVvclLlSUeUXfUsxXyKkhtdkE9nz6DIxfL7O3PfIAMZLMdjs9EjLsQJ1msdab8h0deBdGeSExOtou9A1RH6O7Il/s1600/CSC_0291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4z4_x0o5e-ct-0S1HqTB2ETHXHTpVEmYNUikSxjBaKRWZZVsOKkeYIAVvclLlSUeUXfUsxXyKkhtdkE9nz6DIxfL7O3PfIAMZLMdjs9EjLsQJ1msdab8h0deBdGeSExOtou9A1RH6O7Il/s640/CSC_0291.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but our worries about falling into the gorge are left behind as soon as the jaw-dropping <i>Cuernos </i>(horns) come into view.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymVf6AUqDAPitL3G6rXUOTHUbwpGCm5E1hyphenhyphenmpwoCfR54XXvSKrNhj4So01wRmQXBl0Q993KWX9TO1Fz52BNs9Xity9IPm21UBxuUF3TWFXkSAHCUDcP8AyCvwf1DfNXzKMFx45VCYb7rc/s1600/CSC_0283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymVf6AUqDAPitL3G6rXUOTHUbwpGCm5E1hyphenhyphenmpwoCfR54XXvSKrNhj4So01wRmQXBl0Q993KWX9TO1Fz52BNs9Xity9IPm21UBxuUF3TWFXkSAHCUDcP8AyCvwf1DfNXzKMFx45VCYb7rc/s640/CSC_0283.JPG" width="424"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aha! Summer is still with us in the form of flowers.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QJWGxCKVNa6-DJlCrSJI3E0091CRqxd7Cmmo4bQwlcRn_AueIXcMsarzLS3TXkJQ4pQmtnowivAyfoBSwbts6zw9272SJhTIwZCWdrx-Uq5ypmLw3EI4n1fiVJeydlWHRFICLAfFaw_4/s1600/CSC_0290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QJWGxCKVNa6-DJlCrSJI3E0091CRqxd7Cmmo4bQwlcRn_AueIXcMsarzLS3TXkJQ4pQmtnowivAyfoBSwbts6zw9272SJhTIwZCWdrx-Uq5ypmLw3EI4n1fiVJeydlWHRFICLAfFaw_4/s640/CSC_0290.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But, again, the <i>Cuernos</i>!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioSaKZqbAeJUx_mlF6CvgZytdxMf4KCPRiClSG4vtVMMwgAqI5uaFWPNUiLc1XyPtFELfP_pXXc5drJM-Tkr5k48fnJj0T0_E5MVV4dpyoYeENohZ7sbpwxK8OoG-74hxAO8eSD3OJQCpQ/s1600/CSC_0292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioSaKZqbAeJUx_mlF6CvgZytdxMf4KCPRiClSG4vtVMMwgAqI5uaFWPNUiLc1XyPtFELfP_pXXc5drJM-Tkr5k48fnJj0T0_E5MVV4dpyoYeENohZ7sbpwxK8OoG-74hxAO8eSD3OJQCpQ/s640/CSC_0292.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I find myself saying "wow" a lot</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
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<div>
*Distances were marked differently on the two maps we had. Since we did not measure distance along the way, we're not sure which one is accurate.<br><br><b>Day 5: Italiano to Mirador Britanico and back, 12 km</b><br><br>As we set off on our hike up the valley it begins to snow. Hikers coming down tell us that there's no visibility, but the hike is so pretty with fresh snow on the colorful trees that we decide to continue. It's well worth it. By the time we're at the top everyone else has gone back. The <i>Cuernos</i> are illuminated clearly by the sun but still shielded from us by a cloud of snow, appearing like a faded postcard. We start to hike down but are stopped in our tracks by rays of sun on our backs. All of a sudden the wind picks up and starts blasting away the clouds, and when the clouds clear it blasts away the snow that has collected on rock edges and tree leaves. That crazy wind becomes a great magician, pulling away white cloaks with a flourish, and revealing craggy mountains beneath. We stop, transfixed, and enjoy the show.<br><br>Back at camp, Eldad makes us some tea. He's the kind of guy who's a bit aggressive about sharing. Even if you don't ask for tea, he'll give you some anyway. And today, I'm very grateful for that. The hot liquid travels through my body and brings delectable warmth to a frigid day.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyFoFK0dJyPHPpdVu5fTW8WMQIJ09HkLogkT9LTIfUlaSRpkSwcFpikxH8hiWw62CxvZCcrqZbe3XW9FwbYhAovt4Fa_GMESbe4oGF3dBMB0SsDeaiK6HrVcIR8eq9uXM7K3hRg2ssFDA/s1600/CSC_0392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyFoFK0dJyPHPpdVu5fTW8WMQIJ09HkLogkT9LTIfUlaSRpkSwcFpikxH8hiWw62CxvZCcrqZbe3XW9FwbYhAovt4Fa_GMESbe4oGF3dBMB0SsDeaiK6HrVcIR8eq9uXM7K3hRg2ssFDA/s640/CSC_0392.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eldad in the snow</td></tr>
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<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-wcIS4AGoIzZGeuyVJrla1G4_CYiVVvM5JCHa7a4LVR84dg_IcTvKgiLfR1uTKq1oU4w2-PUDhDZutZXjDh0-WvocHq6mjcc4Y64DHrnAfwC84kRmFA396xSLyl8DnLHAvEQCFrhf93D/s1600/CSC_0399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-wcIS4AGoIzZGeuyVJrla1G4_CYiVVvM5JCHa7a4LVR84dg_IcTvKgiLfR1uTKq1oU4w2-PUDhDZutZXjDh0-WvocHq6mjcc4Y64DHrnAfwC84kRmFA396xSLyl8DnLHAvEQCFrhf93D/s640/CSC_0399.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We walked simply to see more of the gorgeous, white-robed forest...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqonMmbck2w6oAo9B3z1b9XhrqMEPPEiZy-QC35l9uZw9iRtuIcRguhQ7XBtOg_S24v7B3MgYUSjDMetpvLIJ-aXHedt1EdZIjCGEORbtd1HB1UdzETxZyk0cTAxet_Sxv-i10Fp_ligi/s1600/CSC_0397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqonMmbck2w6oAo9B3z1b9XhrqMEPPEiZy-QC35l9uZw9iRtuIcRguhQ7XBtOg_S24v7B3MgYUSjDMetpvLIJ-aXHedt1EdZIjCGEORbtd1HB1UdzETxZyk0cTAxet_Sxv-i10Fp_ligi/s640/CSC_0397.JPG" width="360"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and the <i>Cuernos</i> came out to join us!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35k38F0tqnX8K-LN9oyjU_H5GjT1PK9dXXSdueC6FvLZ78o74ftFPZaEUzf_VXG18hdCvq4W8QGuRSyCPfvYYxnC3Xwm0psSsKQQ1JJjfEkSISWFuBcvLnFXeoU1RRQ_OnPS4jiGgGgnA/s1600/CSC_0402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35k38F0tqnX8K-LN9oyjU_H5GjT1PK9dXXSdueC6FvLZ78o74ftFPZaEUzf_VXG18hdCvq4W8QGuRSyCPfvYYxnC3Xwm0psSsKQQ1JJjfEkSISWFuBcvLnFXeoU1RRQ_OnPS4jiGgGgnA/s640/CSC_0402.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two days ago: snow and fall colors. Yesterday: sun and flowers. Today we´re back to snow and fall, though I think we can safely call it winter by now.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhYOoXVjRSJQ35IS94wx8skkx9h0SMo3JppSCvoKmiplHGr1YC5PLbxS4DAh1BP0BhdOJGInQsQAuhtRs5ymVeSIFP-9Sy0qEvbXWAYSFazRJBBvupJSvM5AR0C0VGGTJQr_RCtSc7E30/s1600/CSC_0400.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQhYOoXVjRSJQ35IS94wx8skkx9h0SMo3JppSCvoKmiplHGr1YC5PLbxS4DAh1BP0BhdOJGInQsQAuhtRs5ymVeSIFP-9Sy0qEvbXWAYSFazRJBBvupJSvM5AR0C0VGGTJQr_RCtSc7E30/s640/CSC_0400.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What fun is snow without a snowman?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCpZRW0q2TLKT93fMnVkvQ9z6bkK99Qzj8gOdSBRR0UB6nMuxoIq4FsMOO7Qx_V6A3AeFPM8NP_W9dOUo477Yfupr8wLSTDxC9s3oFS8KGSO0a8QYP4YLXa8HzbzuBNQrpQplgwPROzGT/s1600/CSC_0405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCpZRW0q2TLKT93fMnVkvQ9z6bkK99Qzj8gOdSBRR0UB6nMuxoIq4FsMOO7Qx_V6A3AeFPM8NP_W9dOUo477Yfupr8wLSTDxC9s3oFS8KGSO0a8QYP4YLXa8HzbzuBNQrpQplgwPROzGT/s640/CSC_0405.JPG" width="360"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As we head down, the flurries intensify...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqVEAgttRoo288C8Gki-DYenr6czB7jQECjtK3n0FYzD5WxA5NCrVwVJp_CdgECJA5sNcRviaVsGyvmVnXLenzUzYULAJ_cRRxxowbjAn8uDjtNkya0F0xNl8q3Cs-gzug3VfM4WPtxTf/s1600/CSC_0409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqVEAgttRoo288C8Gki-DYenr6czB7jQECjtK3n0FYzD5WxA5NCrVwVJp_CdgECJA5sNcRviaVsGyvmVnXLenzUzYULAJ_cRRxxowbjAn8uDjtNkya0F0xNl8q3Cs-gzug3VfM4WPtxTf/s640/CSC_0409.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but soon abate, leaving us with a sunny forest and smiles on our faces.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVhiKrsfcSfEwsI4NUqaCT-cx8aTj97jF7pgNVuJ7GV-R3ZYNCEKvSblw6HPK6mhUEKRWQOIji3wiE3czivkdRTBEmhFVadtcExVQy8uRVf46FLpsAG7Sz9LJaDTN3BlXww9Gp8awb4S4/s1600/CSC_0406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVhiKrsfcSfEwsI4NUqaCT-cx8aTj97jF7pgNVuJ7GV-R3ZYNCEKvSblw6HPK6mhUEKRWQOIji3wiE3czivkdRTBEmhFVadtcExVQy8uRVf46FLpsAG7Sz9LJaDTN3BlXww9Gp8awb4S4/s640/CSC_0406.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The turret-like <i>Torres</i> (towers) eventually show their faces...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYMORG1WAYV2hT7F_Fqr6CajqSlOxEoAgNCDXUHCVCbMr3-6zLPKR5FDnesfv8d-e93biA1imGB8l0c69d_Aam5dFPtqXChHSueBoVYeeiS1PKeVMl6QlJxtbInyJvxQBmkLAPMlZEoMV3/s1600/CSC_0411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYMORG1WAYV2hT7F_Fqr6CajqSlOxEoAgNCDXUHCVCbMr3-6zLPKR5FDnesfv8d-e93biA1imGB8l0c69d_Aam5dFPtqXChHSueBoVYeeiS1PKeVMl6QlJxtbInyJvxQBmkLAPMlZEoMV3/s640/CSC_0411.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...as does this picturesque mountainside.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzD3Z2RilKLAQn8AAy8BbKh0pQdQn3_2hbThULJBY3e1GMFzh9PFzCAVEHEWigMOmQiIN_E5eLxXOt4Beo9Y-_ya-LII65uUkibs6dpGZRakiASK12j6JZAsmUkJk_Wn49GKU9fG7_5Qxd/s1600/CSC_0413.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzD3Z2RilKLAQn8AAy8BbKh0pQdQn3_2hbThULJBY3e1GMFzh9PFzCAVEHEWigMOmQiIN_E5eLxXOt4Beo9Y-_ya-LII65uUkibs6dpGZRakiASK12j6JZAsmUkJk_Wn49GKU9fG7_5Qxd/s640/CSC_0413.JPG" width="640"></a></div>
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<br><br><br><b>Day 6: Italiano to Las Torres, 20 km</b><br><br>Ups and downs, wind and rocks, I feel as if my body is finally adjusting to the backpacking lifestyle and movement, and of course this is our second-to-last day.<br><br>As we begin our final ascent to the Las Torres campground, we find ourselves marveling again at the other hikers on the trail. I have to admit that the culture out here has been at least as interesting as the scenery. How is it that we have found hikers out for the day in brand new Gore-Tex Pro rain suits when it's not even raining, and we've also seen hikers wearing jeans and two backpacks (one on the front as well) walking the O? We've really observed the whole spectrum.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinem3QL0_6cBTk0vQJSZq8Zbl5GCebE5d6AkZsUPTPWzgxtHOTuxyPGIGJBzKGjj8vDVPosc49TkTHJ3heuP749dgTN06rPLGAT4T52DaR8OaMrXk0CegPCG73OnFoC1FOwgd4NxXb2z-K/s1600/CSC_0429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinem3QL0_6cBTk0vQJSZq8Zbl5GCebE5d6AkZsUPTPWzgxtHOTuxyPGIGJBzKGjj8vDVPosc49TkTHJ3heuP749dgTN06rPLGAT4T52DaR8OaMrXk0CegPCG73OnFoC1FOwgd4NxXb2z-K/s640/CSC_0429.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Las Torres madhouse... er, ahem, cooking shelter.</td></tr>
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Las Torres is a free Conaf site.</div>
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<br><br><b>Day 7: Las Torres to Mirador to Laguna Amarga, 18 km</b><br><br>We wake up before sunrise to hike the steep trail up to the lake at the base of the famous Torres. After the last few days of clouds and snow, today, miraculously, is perfectly clear.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvu-rMWvKg1RP3JnUCpyVNXCrHCu-6HEm-0xAkNfUIaMdYlMamCIpwhhGj9Jd_BYcO_f4jhU46pjG9bg_qANjeeGCKKMKpRMZacliito9VgwAxsmx5VrVY41puVCvCo9cMgjV6VOFX-A-y/s1600/CSC_0556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvu-rMWvKg1RP3JnUCpyVNXCrHCu-6HEm-0xAkNfUIaMdYlMamCIpwhhGj9Jd_BYcO_f4jhU46pjG9bg_qANjeeGCKKMKpRMZacliito9VgwAxsmx5VrVY41puVCvCo9cMgjV6VOFX-A-y/s640/CSC_0556.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along with some other sunrise-watchers...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5cNlsokEnms8vJAIWAMJqx1-m4eAKJ9iVIfjZJDyzuiX1UH5MNLO8AzVz45f1HjHmjpWhFW4Bx7_6zccPHraG7eHFjOLlUOojMp7qD553bipaZ2HSflM6-3yiyBH-c4Oq6ciS2_gNBG-/s1600/CSC_0567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5cNlsokEnms8vJAIWAMJqx1-m4eAKJ9iVIfjZJDyzuiX1UH5MNLO8AzVz45f1HjHmjpWhFW4Bx7_6zccPHraG7eHFjOLlUOojMp7qD553bipaZ2HSflM6-3yiyBH-c4Oq6ciS2_gNBG-/s400/CSC_0567.JPG" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...we swath ourselves in layers of down while waiting for the show to start.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmAhQERM4hln6q6YGBlA6YZ_m-lxeJdZo35KvohN-5TfTH9wi_4Hp1G5a3YEj3qSBfXZj3pQoOfFFc4MmwjwvdSxv65eeX7MzV8_xRVt4NeZeqPxJym2KsGGtDiXCw2pm3_EXWG2N9zmI/s1600/CSC_0557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmAhQERM4hln6q6YGBlA6YZ_m-lxeJdZo35KvohN-5TfTH9wi_4Hp1G5a3YEj3qSBfXZj3pQoOfFFc4MmwjwvdSxv65eeX7MzV8_xRVt4NeZeqPxJym2KsGGtDiXCw2pm3_EXWG2N9zmI/s640/CSC_0557.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And when it does, it doesn´t disappoint. Soon the tops of the <i>Torres</i> slowly, almost imperceptibly, accrue hues of pink...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcP0UOBkRKbsdYCPjAToQ0yRtpcQdIKN3iw7LBiJOBBIuj25CBPZO_Yg9nMhfs2HwUZ2lQu0IL154tx9rWAsr-cm1AxSvlhhmIvA9H858zgNzvgIwhJ-tVNH3ldgeDWw6HmjfA0KDuM-3/s1600/CSC_0559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcP0UOBkRKbsdYCPjAToQ0yRtpcQdIKN3iw7LBiJOBBIuj25CBPZO_Yg9nMhfs2HwUZ2lQu0IL154tx9rWAsr-cm1AxSvlhhmIvA9H858zgNzvgIwhJ-tVNH3ldgeDWw6HmjfA0KDuM-3/s640/CSC_0559.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...their broad faces dipping more and more deeply into color...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_twcVFr6ctenfSZsYTRWwbw7PJdhj9jHUm-c5nFihNkJSwDvWxlrPmK6QjhossaYMWCvvRcPj63Yc8RP27N6xGDWFqU6ubmhyOzJP2qJ7YcNV2rys-f7O6wl3slDS9OrhadU0I2tJJj8/s1600/CSC_0558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9_twcVFr6ctenfSZsYTRWwbw7PJdhj9jHUm-c5nFihNkJSwDvWxlrPmK6QjhossaYMWCvvRcPj63Yc8RP27N6xGDWFqU6ubmhyOzJP2qJ7YcNV2rys-f7O6wl3slDS9OrhadU0I2tJJj8/s640/CSC_0558.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...a mirror-like reflection showing the spectacle a second time, as if that were necessary.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaM8gOgBkI5L6pO-Cooxfazy-MNJNiC3M0LXoqG3pwAifA4P0Z6pTDUXfTYKC6ERZBOmVo8-7RjyqtYLaVRoWZEuX6oFmHwojfDrR3QmeOOJjwKNJRxMsofi9ezQwLCxzSRvx6RKq4mjP/s1600/CSC_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFaM8gOgBkI5L6pO-Cooxfazy-MNJNiC3M0LXoqG3pwAifA4P0Z6pTDUXfTYKC6ERZBOmVo8-7RjyqtYLaVRoWZEuX6oFmHwojfDrR3QmeOOJjwKNJRxMsofi9ezQwLCxzSRvx6RKq4mjP/s640/CSC_0560.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gradually they turn from bright pink...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEist1CLVHsnat062xBgEc8AHMsRcKFX8WiT-sFYmq1_m6eeKLCHjXW8esWGsLaD595FT-d29jGdR7NfpiyTVubfwzNgo6OOOQTmeknsEpESRE4TThe2wVcZ0M0Gp8-rQqEUUL1MKQmQJZz-/s1600/CSC_0583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEist1CLVHsnat062xBgEc8AHMsRcKFX8WiT-sFYmq1_m6eeKLCHjXW8esWGsLaD595FT-d29jGdR7NfpiyTVubfwzNgo6OOOQTmeknsEpESRE4TThe2wVcZ0M0Gp8-rQqEUUL1MKQmQJZz-/s640/CSC_0583.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...to a flaming orange, and daylight is here for good.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6n3NNOqZp-HpjSR7ldh-Ey54QKi6qlL3akd6ZyhDMI6L2532MXT8yOAp98DHU6H36WMHEEkgGq8C9QFF5aVM13tEhtu4sB6DxwXP6HtZjhOfQSYWeCohuOUWqmBhMAWvN7RdbGjXNhe2/s1600/CSC_0564.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6n3NNOqZp-HpjSR7ldh-Ey54QKi6qlL3akd6ZyhDMI6L2532MXT8yOAp98DHU6H36WMHEEkgGq8C9QFF5aVM13tEhtu4sB6DxwXP6HtZjhOfQSYWeCohuOUWqmBhMAWvN7RdbGjXNhe2/s640/CSC_0564.JPG" width="512"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eldad reflects quietly...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2x7MV33T8pR3_zUkRoAioQY-bkkN-0o1M4b1rQ_UEbOg8vtxg2mi0nLh0UtQlQU_bgnMGEBB5LaM3FYxfq4s2Sk87sVKCvp3TO0rKg-huDKp9lHNX9VpxMQjC0grcCCgpUuALABZB713v/s1600/CSC_0562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2x7MV33T8pR3_zUkRoAioQY-bkkN-0o1M4b1rQ_UEbOg8vtxg2mi0nLh0UtQlQU_bgnMGEBB5LaM3FYxfq4s2Sk87sVKCvp3TO0rKg-huDKp9lHNX9VpxMQjC0grcCCgpUuALABZB713v/s640/CSC_0562.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but we are more exuberant!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dhkJtjgfyzCFFTZA6nEc12e7PWgKdbbUtS-x2ROl0_MuFmrS6U0rFJW8Nj-0iQEAARW11Yjh5y3Wn5_UV-lXRWDaT0-Int76brDidgpx74lZinMdu_70k_049-TsIuzUdg7YXwxbbimj/s1600/CSC_0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8dhkJtjgfyzCFFTZA6nEc12e7PWgKdbbUtS-x2ROl0_MuFmrS6U0rFJW8Nj-0iQEAARW11Yjh5y3Wn5_UV-lXRWDaT0-Int76brDidgpx74lZinMdu_70k_049-TsIuzUdg7YXwxbbimj/s640/CSC_0580.JPG" width="426"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a spiritual experience, and in such a cathedral!</td></tr>
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<br>We haven't seen Fabio for days, but there he is waiting down at the Torres Hotel when we arrive. He's had some adventures of his own, and we're happy to chat (and to see that he made it out alive after eating all that almost-raw bread dough) as we walk back to Laguna Amarga, finishing back where we began.<br><br>Of course, the ultimate finale of a great backpacking trip is making delicious food when you get back. For dinner we make a huge veggie salad and artery-clogging brownies. Rotem comes over to our hostel and makes Shakshouka, a tasty Israeli dish with eggs and veggies. Time to feast!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs_l4WatZ92xKvwvJCo1BNkK2gPMp_-Xxik-Z5n3JSV4OQ3yEJZ046Qo_8f_b1glC5WzMkq5VENv-FrufmDGXb0a0IFgtEL2W4cfhAZX_VN0F8rsfQOPPbzic5msIQICIQrCPVJIT9AU6/s1600/CSC_0590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjs_l4WatZ92xKvwvJCo1BNkK2gPMp_-Xxik-Z5n3JSV4OQ3yEJZ046Qo_8f_b1glC5WzMkq5VENv-FrufmDGXb0a0IFgtEL2W4cfhAZX_VN0F8rsfQOPPbzic5msIQICIQrCPVJIT9AU6/s400/CSC_0590.JPG" width="400"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I should have taken another photo three minutes after this one... the pan was empty</td></tr>
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<br>We had a great hike, and I would recommend it. We were super lucky with the weather, the scenery was incredible, the trails interesting, and we even made some new friends. The backpacking culture and park management made it a very different experience from other trips we have taken, for better or for worse, but they definitely gave us plenty of food for thought.</div>
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If you are thinking about trekking in Torres del Paine, feel free to contact us with questions!</div>
Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-90604338599785766042016-04-10T12:06:00.000-07:002017-04-28T17:25:56.761-07:00Following Guanaco Tracks: The Back Door to Puerto Natales.March28th-April 1st<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<i>El Calafate-Cancha Carrera-Cerro Castillo (Chile)-Puerto Natales</i></div>
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South of El Calafate, any and every map will tell you that the only option is the main road. It loops way out east, avoiding the mountains entirely and staying in the flat <em>pampas</em>. A main route through flat grasslands isn´t really our thing, so naturally we were motivated to find the road less traveled, which in this case is the road never traveled, because there´s no road at all. Through a feat of mapping ingenuity, or perhaps insanity, we patchworked together a route south starting on dirt roads and progressing to remote 4x4 tracks and <em>terra incognita</em>, regions with no paths at all. In the three days we were in the mountains, we saw one vehicle, three <em>gauchos</em> on horseback, and vast herds of the wild, llama-like guanacos. Here´s the story:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGItOStkZ3B38mNOy-SGQWN7bfRFCv51_x8RWnLrPo4GHXbP0VS7fyB52xEztnxIORPuzpnyGYUi0eO0jOU7WYkE9g5eF4UBvGIF8dc9DxbnWE1tBM1qHlZf7x1W3H1KknzQIm3hTaRng/s1600/CSC_9913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGItOStkZ3B38mNOy-SGQWN7bfRFCv51_x8RWnLrPo4GHXbP0VS7fyB52xEztnxIORPuzpnyGYUi0eO0jOU7WYkE9g5eF4UBvGIF8dc9DxbnWE1tBM1qHlZf7x1W3H1KknzQIm3hTaRng/s640/CSC_9913.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not even a few kilometers out of town, things kick off with a rough start when we find these signs all over the place. Fortunately the owner of the land, Juan Carlos, is extraordinarily friendly, allowing us to pass and even giving us tips for the road ahead.</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lDf-kFIp7MaZcJruhCG5bDt_6k1PeUN3OwJTE5IUetdsb8v3h2p2q0sOa5RQsy9NoHSr8hxzTtp-NGvTpuk0JZCbRjfypu8wRza-nOEGyYGtzaZ8kX0-ijX26ZUNFYvuSduryC8N-hMb/s1600/CSC_9914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lDf-kFIp7MaZcJruhCG5bDt_6k1PeUN3OwJTE5IUetdsb8v3h2p2q0sOa5RQsy9NoHSr8hxzTtp-NGvTpuk0JZCbRjfypu8wRza-nOEGyYGtzaZ8kX0-ijX26ZUNFYvuSduryC8N-hMb/s640/CSC_9914.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just past the gates we are rewarded with a perfect track up into the mountains...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wiEWNzlHtX3_iI5Y13y3bBkVUYziVzYAjVuPwsHMSF1Msqj4BVXcUDckeVXPdwyO72G5DZmtW4UZOqTc9rzd2cJZ8d9c045GNNCPJXLZHaNl_I7PWCiywcqw7UCVxeZQeIr76VuLZvHl/s1600/CSC_9915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wiEWNzlHtX3_iI5Y13y3bBkVUYziVzYAjVuPwsHMSF1Msqj4BVXcUDckeVXPdwyO72G5DZmtW4UZOqTc9rzd2cJZ8d9c045GNNCPJXLZHaNl_I7PWCiywcqw7UCVxeZQeIr76VuLZvHl/s640/CSC_9915.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...with wildflowers to add some color to the monochromatic, golden <em>pampas.</em></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgzcWb2lrMM358Dd9Y1CS80uxOF5afN30YpqtFje-ocfZphigCS4-tl1LzL4P-O_aVRc-LuZNc8HvXoB2xdNdpIb92bC2GhvgiAzyb7pfyhMjJ8QNYY5va4EJcFirJu9r0OrRx-G2fGPig/s1600/CSC_9916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgzcWb2lrMM358Dd9Y1CS80uxOF5afN30YpqtFje-ocfZphigCS4-tl1LzL4P-O_aVRc-LuZNc8HvXoB2xdNdpIb92bC2GhvgiAzyb7pfyhMjJ8QNYY5va4EJcFirJu9r0OrRx-G2fGPig/s640/CSC_9916.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">What better way to leave the city?!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiltwW11dLeSu67_4j0CeHLP4GyArTypLQckG2vUS-hw3hEfWu9axEvgCMbs_CaZXG3ag0b9ezBDTkXBf5hueXGb2qjhLzBmnuQ9E3d_a_xzojvOedt90N3r5HBGNPra-paapi_dU2fo6T/s1600/CSC_9917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiltwW11dLeSu67_4j0CeHLP4GyArTypLQckG2vUS-hw3hEfWu9axEvgCMbs_CaZXG3ag0b9ezBDTkXBf5hueXGb2qjhLzBmnuQ9E3d_a_xzojvOedt90N3r5HBGNPra-paapi_dU2fo6T/s640/CSC_9917.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">No tire tracks, only guanacos.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXSGVNBuWThqOBPqMCKgbFxY6QcHKP4R_RCogYuxqPEmVACbeLyKlHc9PxOxqsDOL0fy7dqdshHDnLMKxS-BbLZFgKCFVwmNWD1OUv28dLucIuE8YG9WhdLzJ8pLnAAcGVS5NhwGWl-Zne/s1600/CSC_9920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXSGVNBuWThqOBPqMCKgbFxY6QcHKP4R_RCogYuxqPEmVACbeLyKlHc9PxOxqsDOL0fy7dqdshHDnLMKxS-BbLZFgKCFVwmNWD1OUv28dLucIuE8YG9WhdLzJ8pLnAAcGVS5NhwGWl-Zne/s640/CSC_9920.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tam, riding in her light green fleece, is camouflaged perfectly among the grasses.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v7UepmKTl0AHq2hEVpA6LiDZ_qzOEf2KiniilRUxbnVqvkrq-u5unXnl05qAkXMclFgaSNyfd11oFITpHy80ydnC6O7UkzHEK1vBUN_3ndNcdTPQZ-Bl03ZoHWnWBiRwNJZC2VcgsTXW/s1600/CSC_9921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_v7UepmKTl0AHq2hEVpA6LiDZ_qzOEf2KiniilRUxbnVqvkrq-u5unXnl05qAkXMclFgaSNyfd11oFITpHy80ydnC6O7UkzHEK1vBUN_3ndNcdTPQZ-Bl03ZoHWnWBiRwNJZC2VcgsTXW/s640/CSC_9921.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a few hours of bikepacking bliss, our road becomes a bit rougher...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqw5ZMGeaWHRqwoRzqhRd1fWt1swCe2vjXphz8TiDuAaPTaWZyEskIhQbrAht8ZB8WvjS0x-IxzlJh03LtKEw3lZR5uEq7MwOGz__AyJTwOKn1-GbUQOOxNYj0IDGkUr5tQjgVRJxoqXG/s1600/CSC_9922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqw5ZMGeaWHRqwoRzqhRd1fWt1swCe2vjXphz8TiDuAaPTaWZyEskIhQbrAht8ZB8WvjS0x-IxzlJh03LtKEw3lZR5uEq7MwOGz__AyJTwOKn1-GbUQOOxNYj0IDGkUr5tQjgVRJxoqXG/s640/CSC_9922.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...and then ends altogether, leaving us pushing through endless Patagonian steppe...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JP-H3EJ8NfzO_UGaPJqlKdUjNetQN51N_EvTsllYMpzSF0Di0hbLMUdvGvPKjlzyH0iGGqw0yOem9taZMg2OGuJq4bKAVK5GRFI0lNKWebE7fj4P-vee3GZUWY5MHBNuGppC1tk5JA16/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="379" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JP-H3EJ8NfzO_UGaPJqlKdUjNetQN51N_EvTsllYMpzSF0Di0hbLMUdvGvPKjlzyH0iGGqw0yOem9taZMg2OGuJq4bKAVK5GRFI0lNKWebE7fj4P-vee3GZUWY5MHBNuGppC1tk5JA16/s640/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...before things get a bit steeper and we take the bikes onto our backs. Not so bad, that iPhone camera.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6OKyj98Yy02gwliXDygFpBl35wUCjZgBjZr3l3HPTw65k7zcMiQdbEjcGZP6T7IV8aSKH_diBZmSGO3esAUA-EefOo3nAW-nWIEDhKzr7v4HF3fYMrSdXGMF8qMnIkUEa8Baqr282aSd/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6OKyj98Yy02gwliXDygFpBl35wUCjZgBjZr3l3HPTw65k7zcMiQdbEjcGZP6T7IV8aSKH_diBZmSGO3esAUA-EefOo3nAW-nWIEDhKzr7v4HF3fYMrSdXGMF8qMnIkUEa8Baqr282aSd/s640/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Above treeline, the ground is steep and rocky but relatively easy going (the bike-on-the-back thing notwithstanding)...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79D7iFtza9C-Ipe4dXPGpMxM1soR8tfMxMRsHg2Sce8s81mqTBgdliWmLiOxl-OZTdQY7rQVn-qqrQYYhIR74u087TIB-vM5_1OWJXBqSWXdwnmXY07il2skNHmx16Y9sV3pCU01Z3F5C/s1600/CSC_9923.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79D7iFtza9C-Ipe4dXPGpMxM1soR8tfMxMRsHg2Sce8s81mqTBgdliWmLiOxl-OZTdQY7rQVn-qqrQYYhIR74u087TIB-vM5_1OWJXBqSWXdwnmXY07il2skNHmx16Y9sV3pCU01Z3F5C/s640/CSC_9923.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...and eventually we reach the top of the pass.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9HTg6bMnjHdKp1GWvwvzKrIkU0IGxQBrjF7XlER_ixWYkC1STKv_RN3MjuK4oySUoPeG8k-bjWGWojx1ili9q8vNFVP7wk5_PxW_dge8f-w0DDYtaipyUi7VwfrvM5R43mX54jZZ1WrW/s1600/CSC_9924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9HTg6bMnjHdKp1GWvwvzKrIkU0IGxQBrjF7XlER_ixWYkC1STKv_RN3MjuK4oySUoPeG8k-bjWGWojx1ili9q8vNFVP7wk5_PxW_dge8f-w0DDYtaipyUi7VwfrvM5R43mX54jZZ1WrW/s640/CSC_9924.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">On the other side we sometimes find game trails...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTy6qxcqBDm7ep18s55X3lFvgFrhyb0ym26uQb24MCNC2hp2l6c_kjydrssqwe-7PsORlSQnTBC_34RCqyXRTGBCy-KnAf0D3B52rcjhq0eFc-u1qwxjE_BUHvrzMm1Bm3vEX986KUetv/s1600/CSC_9925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtTy6qxcqBDm7ep18s55X3lFvgFrhyb0ym26uQb24MCNC2hp2l6c_kjydrssqwe-7PsORlSQnTBC_34RCqyXRTGBCy-KnAf0D3B52rcjhq0eFc-u1qwxjE_BUHvrzMm1Bm3vEX986KUetv/s400/CSC_9925.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...and sometimes we don´t, leaving us freestyling across wide alpine meadows.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXp02sttcesS57eboUfahE8ytve0uG1_qBztvLAvT4Kp-akO10rmbgBVFsx55b5fT336qAWsSz-aYmwXSlDnw5tTzDBCblk9RQ7Bua5zugKZ3cyFZC6K9RMFrDH0hRTfrIpPTM36IbP6r8/s1600/CSC_9926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXp02sttcesS57eboUfahE8ytve0uG1_qBztvLAvT4Kp-akO10rmbgBVFsx55b5fT336qAWsSz-aYmwXSlDnw5tTzDBCblk9RQ7Bua5zugKZ3cyFZC6K9RMFrDH0hRTfrIpPTM36IbP6r8/s640/CSC_9926.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">They´re frequently a bit marshier than they look, but even with the wet feet we are happy to be able to ride at all.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSLKQQXZD0nMBlZvus4YhEPSm4V1xX385E8YXZFcozAfNe0Glac2t-863Lt2QOvr6Lr51gieu5cAJKJ6XojpHIkn4zALBh4VbElJd-8MdZgYz4dCbYJxm7z_zcCbUfdSDhLRbEbYmwDndc/s1600/CSC_9927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSLKQQXZD0nMBlZvus4YhEPSm4V1xX385E8YXZFcozAfNe0Glac2t-863Lt2QOvr6Lr51gieu5cAJKJ6XojpHIkn4zALBh4VbElJd-8MdZgYz4dCbYJxm7z_zcCbUfdSDhLRbEbYmwDndc/s400/CSC_9927.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a series of river crossings, we encounter and hop some fences...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixs73iKN_nLTHynUGX79a6uyPEGTBcucRcvUjCbFxtTpBEVQvA3jfOKICaHcR-it0bWnlR-YJMhAWcHLYb8u4trthj_KWTj22BVdv3OW5TnTtL-pdNBtuMvvS9KiKXMrlk2mwAFXe7hwLG/s1600/CSC_9928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixs73iKN_nLTHynUGX79a6uyPEGTBcucRcvUjCbFxtTpBEVQvA3jfOKICaHcR-it0bWnlR-YJMhAWcHLYb8u4trthj_KWTj22BVdv3OW5TnTtL-pdNBtuMvvS9KiKXMrlk2mwAFXe7hwLG/s400/CSC_9928.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...and head down a smooth trail on the other side worn into the patchy grasses by thousands of hoofsteps.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjycLhaE1Q72S0fmpEADSdF1N5Jc7qe2-KmIwXO73fkj4Py4E7nVGiKywdHyUcFm4iRdBgZp_8K2HK5HjiWYDqC1z9TCuzYSTzcfs-VdSrjHInOEDO0SZyPdYGAOYhaHe6nAWdiHDj7ufI-/s1600/CSC_9929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjycLhaE1Q72S0fmpEADSdF1N5Jc7qe2-KmIwXO73fkj4Py4E7nVGiKywdHyUcFm4iRdBgZp_8K2HK5HjiWYDqC1z9TCuzYSTzcfs-VdSrjHInOEDO0SZyPdYGAOYhaHe6nAWdiHDj7ufI-/s640/CSC_9929.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meeting back up with a road, especially this scenic, untrafficked one, is a reward in itself...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LuJWMCP-Q2itaSB7O5x49S9NFKhoEcIW9jOSvgHV2c8K-7CYfwwmId5dSST-cpkGkQ-OAsFczowrNqh965BHMGPbOvKUnybz_gItjCMl9aYKk_o4SAq042BJuoq1s8RsUGXsOipv0wEu/s1600/CSC_9931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LuJWMCP-Q2itaSB7O5x49S9NFKhoEcIW9jOSvgHV2c8K-7CYfwwmId5dSST-cpkGkQ-OAsFczowrNqh965BHMGPbOvKUnybz_gItjCMl9aYKk_o4SAq042BJuoq1s8RsUGXsOipv0wEu/s400/CSC_9931.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...but not too long after, we turn off onto a smaller road that quickly turns into a grassy track and, soon after that, no track at all</span>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OX04Qvsxu_1FigTYCTU-6pGvsg03552_-WQaRbclFlIbdmDQNJpJUEOZOlB7_a0qLsNbjyrKkzBT0f38q1Zjw25cegWMLomWrwCkLAEapBTlEbuUm04wWJgFMMA_wSeu1qdXMgvkhHUB/s1600/CSC_9932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7OX04Qvsxu_1FigTYCTU-6pGvsg03552_-WQaRbclFlIbdmDQNJpJUEOZOlB7_a0qLsNbjyrKkzBT0f38q1Zjw25cegWMLomWrwCkLAEapBTlEbuUm04wWJgFMMA_wSeu1qdXMgvkhHUB/s640/CSC_9932.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We play "avoid the bush" for an hour or so...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhZ1yJVfZ8aKfK7CxEWlX46Ld2dawRrbsE4dAScMiIzWxQcngHh7n-Gxy3lQnX9D3L7oonANZSTYlP0UgnamWrXwq9UvAytAEmYXO44zITrG0A2MkBOTun1mtnAebUNann6lVJFan8MSO/s1600/CSC_9933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijhZ1yJVfZ8aKfK7CxEWlX46Ld2dawRrbsE4dAScMiIzWxQcngHh7n-Gxy3lQnX9D3L7oonANZSTYlP0UgnamWrXwq9UvAytAEmYXO44zITrG0A2MkBOTun1mtnAebUNann6lVJFan8MSO/s400/CSC_9933.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...before completing the last blank section on the map and coming across a road again. Yay!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8MzU1bCWQbfP90n-p9x_Xgc38Y_k9oMPyzKpLzEX6WephxXjWbZeZk6bAez_USEvd684vXBnOLvPcxdlxGBWbXgf3KMg57zII4upRQrGbsgRZICUn2ZL1aUEw8u9i1I1_xQxIaHt0Oh_/s1600/CSC_9934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8MzU1bCWQbfP90n-p9x_Xgc38Y_k9oMPyzKpLzEX6WephxXjWbZeZk6bAez_USEvd684vXBnOLvPcxdlxGBWbXgf3KMg57zII4upRQrGbsgRZICUn2ZL1aUEw8u9i1I1_xQxIaHt0Oh_/s640/CSC_9934.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">With all the previous unknowns and worries behind us, we´re elated to be on this pleasant two-track as evening falls.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioc3bc7I3Y760CST9YSRLAqgW16bejKmErV169OrSneM2LZ8mjT59vGgnfRFAtDRMngx0N9Ybba1uM2Uj3Qd-xhm3QJPsAERbkxy92qZiTMQe6eVrHHw-29DaHOZBGc5A7DaHKRs4xZq4p/s1600/CSC_0007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioc3bc7I3Y760CST9YSRLAqgW16bejKmErV169OrSneM2LZ8mjT59vGgnfRFAtDRMngx0N9Ybba1uM2Uj3Qd-xhm3QJPsAERbkxy92qZiTMQe6eVrHHw-29DaHOZBGc5A7DaHKRs4xZq4p/s400/CSC_0007.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Later, in the tent, we reflect on where we´ve been and rest our sore bodies. I think this worn water bottle is a good representation of what we´ve been through. Tam´s ¨Fass Bike¨ sticker is starting to take on a new meaning</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMyWGvVGGe44mrrQQQDuu0w_dq9GK62iIKOIrodWfmjh2wm1sDTY9tGVhdI3doUr1A6JaVDsdcE7ncIdAFzVVZ82trwyhE9Doyk8SLst_p6ZZufCxUHqvTM_T34mbXuVg5VLCeEXKlbfy/s1600/CSC_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMyWGvVGGe44mrrQQQDuu0w_dq9GK62iIKOIrodWfmjh2wm1sDTY9tGVhdI3doUr1A6JaVDsdcE7ncIdAFzVVZ82trwyhE9Doyk8SLst_p6ZZufCxUHqvTM_T34mbXuVg5VLCeEXKlbfy/s640/CSC_0009.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">With the previous few days having been a search for remoteness, on the other side of the mountains we find wind. Incessant, powerful, cold wind....</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJunCZm9HK71Mm9V15VHvTfYzqyfXa5il9N5wJ637s0-by-NEq38JuWkmbGoaXQrv730Y1s2HaDC1tUFTr28EdEQgbb308ulUAxYUF70F1OhgaOI7BBEKT4cpsGNOwVHxM5b-F89HV9E0O/s1600/CSC_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJunCZm9HK71Mm9V15VHvTfYzqyfXa5il9N5wJ637s0-by-NEq38JuWkmbGoaXQrv730Y1s2HaDC1tUFTr28EdEQgbb308ulUAxYUF70F1OhgaOI7BBEKT4cpsGNOwVHxM5b-F89HV9E0O/s400/CSC_0008.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...so we take advantage of any kind of shelter we can find. We find this one just before the hail starts</span>...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMhMFHjifmJ1EE7EiNM76R3DFmq__IJYia94fdqF2bZTIgeXrI2Faxaw42zD1noTyiYZvNZGUn6Nl24i7WlGjwQLxva9JAip9C91pk8PHO5-uFokJ0w0OvP9O63rLGJBN38JaA9llUKxL/s1600/CSC_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMhMFHjifmJ1EE7EiNM76R3DFmq__IJYia94fdqF2bZTIgeXrI2Faxaw42zD1noTyiYZvNZGUn6Nl24i7WlGjwQLxva9JAip9C91pk8PHO5-uFokJ0w0OvP9O63rLGJBN38JaA9llUKxL/s400/CSC_0010.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">...and later that day, the Argentina <em>gendarmería</em>, the border officials, offer to let us sleep in this run-down building, a peaceful, wind-free home for the night.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3mxmL4Qu7nOr704QKfZOpVZVh9HWfHk_GEXWPDuH7yxEEfZtb5bA7lmge0tL7ThZRVixlb6LfO4smlVln8TA3gr_Up_eJ5tUabf9InJYJnJ6f2ktW28QMJ5isdzNxpCN3IKrJzms-LiP_/s1600/CSC_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3mxmL4Qu7nOr704QKfZOpVZVh9HWfHk_GEXWPDuH7yxEEfZtb5bA7lmge0tL7ThZRVixlb6LfO4smlVln8TA3gr_Up_eJ5tUabf9InJYJnJ6f2ktW28QMJ5isdzNxpCN3IKrJzms-LiP_/s640/CSC_0016.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The next day we opt out of a slightly more interesting route, which would also involve punishing days of riding into the wind, and instead fly to Puerto Natales with the wind at our backs.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2gY1h7sVYHaaaJrDWzq94YBg0kNboGC8lpHN3iVouF5EmTsSH9ftOn5NLBDl_GlWkMdRGzAuFulNxoPKtbN7H4cL01EIkR3WjrsKcg_01RUNKJfj5F4Q-R4y7OHDTOihyphenhyphenpH1fTppfYz2u/s1600/CSC_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2gY1h7sVYHaaaJrDWzq94YBg0kNboGC8lpHN3iVouF5EmTsSH9ftOn5NLBDl_GlWkMdRGzAuFulNxoPKtbN7H4cL01EIkR3WjrsKcg_01RUNKJfj5F4Q-R4y7OHDTOihyphenhyphenpH1fTppfYz2u/s640/CSC_0020.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A black-chested buzzard-eagle stares at us from its roadside perch</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mX1CFy7gqp1O53wK8CZl2ygl3MuYBrGIMuqhJ00Or7xjzOnEpz1F0gfLGVBABlmVBIglNr43j0Qx8lHMelpgj327N6WF56XdfRbNf6gg4qS8fUzpHQjfWIpuuLr5y8OcERaOOKCGAUpn/s1600/CSC_0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mX1CFy7gqp1O53wK8CZl2ygl3MuYBrGIMuqhJ00Or7xjzOnEpz1F0gfLGVBABlmVBIglNr43j0Qx8lHMelpgj327N6WF56XdfRbNf6gg4qS8fUzpHQjfWIpuuLr5y8OcERaOOKCGAUpn/s640/CSC_0018.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Soon we roll up to Puerto Natales and the Pacific Ocean. The wind here is anything but pacific, day and night, so we´re happy to have a home inside and a rest before the next adventure: Torres del Paine!</span></td></tr>
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In Pto Natales we stayed at Hostal Mary on Calle Sanchez. Not so much a budget option, but with breakfast included and a homey atmosphere, it was a perfect place for us.</div>
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Contact us for more detailed route notes.<br />
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Update 4/28/17: a fellow cyclist on this route was stopped and almost forced to turn around by owners of some private property, though he managed to beg his way through. I'll still send you route notes if you like, but beware of that possible complication. For those who love poring over maps, it may be possible to find another way around that part. </div>
Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-39712807566355691052016-03-27T19:13:00.000-07:002016-04-27T08:30:31.159-07:00Destination: Southern Patagonia, March 20th-27th<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Lago del Desierto-El Chaltén-Parque Nacional Los Glaciares-La Leona-El Calafate</i></div>
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Passing back into Argentina turns the page to a new chapter in our travels: southern Patagonia. The natural areas here are breathtaking, inspiring, and world-famous. As die-hard off-the-beaten-track adventurers, even we can't pass up some destination-based travel, starting with southern Argentina´s two main attractions. Compared with visiting the extraordinary hotspots, riding our bicycles through the featureless, windy landscape seems little more than transportation from place to place, a significant change from our usual "places between the places" style of travel. There's still plenty more interesting riding in the pipeline, however, so forgive us if you came here for that and don't find any in this post.</div>
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<b>Destination 1:</b> <b>Cerro Fitzroy</b> and the countless other soaring peaks, massive glaciers, and turquoise lakes that make up the northern sector of Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. At the base of it is El Chaltén, a town with possibly more hotels and restaurants than inhabitants. For all the town lacks in substance, however, it would be impossible to design a better skyline; the Fitzroy Range was the inspiration for Patagonia's logo, and believe me, it´s better in person. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Crck8Kd0X17-75Gf1Z6-1UvrdCVjqkvygxBxxnxVuD9ZuU8ViSccjGbtPiPBx2uReqY_C_AbjmdjIA6Jvg70H-x24b2DxGVajik-xRPd9ilhPY_LNknt8wYFfP2i-2nXUcAAL39ngkux/s1600/CSC_9594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Crck8Kd0X17-75Gf1Z6-1UvrdCVjqkvygxBxxnxVuD9ZuU8ViSccjGbtPiPBx2uReqY_C_AbjmdjIA6Jvg70H-x24b2DxGVajik-xRPd9ilhPY_LNknt8wYFfP2i-2nXUcAAL39ngkux/s640/CSC_9594.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the way to El Chaltén, our rearview mirrors draw our eyes more than the road</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAYBLGg7roC2JlF4V4UnM2I0NLKeKSZzxCsDBYksHnuWHFtDR2N3scf8ULxTzjp88zoEzrdJ7zlu_hs6NLty1wwbGijpTIpZ8KHTrg43vaoRl8IUdA7JAzv1c_ONRPB9fmxeby3umyF1f/s1600/CSC_9597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAYBLGg7roC2JlF4V4UnM2I0NLKeKSZzxCsDBYksHnuWHFtDR2N3scf8ULxTzjp88zoEzrdJ7zlu_hs6NLty1wwbGijpTIpZ8KHTrg43vaoRl8IUdA7JAzv1c_ONRPB9fmxeby3umyF1f/s400/CSC_9597.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See the resemblance?</td></tr>
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We pack our tiny backpacks to the brim and set off on foot, hiking from one spectacular spot to the next for three days. The first night our tent nearly blows away with us in it, the gusts of wind through the trees sounding like a wave continuously crashing on top of us. Though they don't manage to get a hold on us, they do send all the clouds packing, leaving us with a painfully clear close-up of Fitzroy. The next morning, we and maybe twenty other people sit on the shore of Laguna de los Tres, chatting, eating, taking photos, but mostly staring silently at the jagged peaks, trying to convince ourselves that these mountains, these otherworldly walls of rock, are real.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Cn0wtY0eLJjKvku_9b2IOa7ENEFvqNXp_pm3cg01LJbCHlBgZvBrSw8aPiGgEIGTDHl8cHF3FBYWkcfYbZntPDRgVifQfHNdbdtiMtpIewg_xIC1LEx_UXdi49yWP4UXC0e3pZLvSI35/s1600/CSC_9598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Cn0wtY0eLJjKvku_9b2IOa7ENEFvqNXp_pm3cg01LJbCHlBgZvBrSw8aPiGgEIGTDHl8cHF3FBYWkcfYbZntPDRgVifQfHNdbdtiMtpIewg_xIC1LEx_UXdi49yWP4UXC0e3pZLvSI35/s640/CSC_9598.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alaska?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrg_W_MbwHg3lSLS3ouxJmriKbLxiYVsB29UA_zXfBCzDmUYHlTBT2vWUVvSb6OKyaEkTA9hr_JKyQF9kuDrrnhpXqE_yeralwVyOYtygpJJHJ0t2Kz2aPt4iB10RxCWxqk7Us1chvDxgm/s1600/CSC_9600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrg_W_MbwHg3lSLS3ouxJmriKbLxiYVsB29UA_zXfBCzDmUYHlTBT2vWUVvSb6OKyaEkTA9hr_JKyQF9kuDrrnhpXqE_yeralwVyOYtygpJJHJ0t2Kz2aPt4iB10RxCWxqk7Us1chvDxgm/s640/CSC_9600.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eerie lenticular clouds, commonplace here, add an extra element to the jaw-dropping skyline</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rRq9PTrZHQtjrkMaMuLy06pDAUNHvaNtniaHrUkVEC-plOCjnO84R04y9yr8RyaLFanL2s5Fns8jut3PDv8NAC2G0w1L0FRyBb8XtfHJHheVj2_MaPHdTQsbH54593_FvGKIybKbEujs/s1600/CSC_9601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rRq9PTrZHQtjrkMaMuLy06pDAUNHvaNtniaHrUkVEC-plOCjnO84R04y9yr8RyaLFanL2s5Fns8jut3PDv8NAC2G0w1L0FRyBb8XtfHJHheVj2_MaPHdTQsbH54593_FvGKIybKbEujs/s640/CSC_9601.JPG" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With snowy peaks all around...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGJvlfWX-FyrPldjZnUV2Jkc02YrsKUiu_byngJh3uX4E2Q8-_qLdmbH6Aj3YEo3qrxsGlkmG7Tjrbdvm63NdbRqeWfHR5OA_r1LjdgA7h-vZNU6KPX3YAk4VYG_DpdmPHhw6EUMvQ5fx/s1600/CSC_9607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTGJvlfWX-FyrPldjZnUV2Jkc02YrsKUiu_byngJh3uX4E2Q8-_qLdmbH6Aj3YEo3qrxsGlkmG7Tjrbdvm63NdbRqeWfHR5OA_r1LjdgA7h-vZNU6KPX3YAk4VYG_DpdmPHhw6EUMvQ5fx/s640/CSC_9607.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and fall colors adding a tinge of spice to the landscape..</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmyyEahbdjinSjd5oqIP_qw8QfXB7aXkm7Wkvofu_OPert48VZjkCDfvhXA1vJr4p4WCczKPRyLpFwGrHRTZ2U2RfBDGKc3PwPRlqVEoWlShgCKVQnlmruEhl4Hbs0q9OqdiFybaR5yzO/s1600/CSC_9604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmyyEahbdjinSjd5oqIP_qw8QfXB7aXkm7Wkvofu_OPert48VZjkCDfvhXA1vJr4p4WCczKPRyLpFwGrHRTZ2U2RfBDGKc3PwPRlqVEoWlShgCKVQnlmruEhl4Hbs0q9OqdiFybaR5yzO/s400/CSC_9604.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...it was a pretty nice hike!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsA1iXTMLaI6YO3wIjT-W_c8xULqJEY-lTJlULfceQdnX6hwaUZhQ3Dy6-f8yTHzZgX1Q5cdDwnxNaxpW1gZ2tEmPo4TqBi7RYK3U-T-nSNM1GJkZ6Ixj16N07dCoCtpnCicwRdQv2Hwou/s1600/CSC_9606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsA1iXTMLaI6YO3wIjT-W_c8xULqJEY-lTJlULfceQdnX6hwaUZhQ3Dy6-f8yTHzZgX1Q5cdDwnxNaxpW1gZ2tEmPo4TqBi7RYK3U-T-nSNM1GJkZ6Ixj16N07dCoCtpnCicwRdQv2Hwou/s640/CSC_9606.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fitzroy: an icon for climbers everywhere</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7iQYiDbIiL13YH8R7nhHxIkxKbKa4jh9imstJakN33ipC9BsWm2V9zwtJEelo8UfaQiVsi1dpyi3OcIGN_Y8vIvXeAIEEw2Ou-GIEWItZdVGO5_GDHMCb9aG3gxenOl1uOTsJbo18cQJl/s1600/CSC_9605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7iQYiDbIiL13YH8R7nhHxIkxKbKa4jh9imstJakN33ipC9BsWm2V9zwtJEelo8UfaQiVsi1dpyi3OcIGN_Y8vIvXeAIEEw2Ou-GIEWItZdVGO5_GDHMCb9aG3gxenOl1uOTsJbo18cQJl/s640/CSC_9605.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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In the afternoon we head over to Laguna Torre and find a quiet campsite sheltered from the wind, but unfortunately some mice eat through our tent and join us inside, causing a very unpleasant wake-up at 3 am. After cleaning everything and moving the tent, we fall back into a restless sleep, waking again a few hours later to a reminder that winter is coming, and fast: snow. But we don't mind. In fact, we've been dreaming of winter ever since we entered the hot, seasonless tropics forever ago. We enjoy the swirling flakes as we hike back to the warmth of El Chaltén.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FkLe8nkRwqz_0uh213jSvUEegwk0LBhvsI44V-s4FYzY0xwSifRyttMBYYCZp6557B9-H28ruZadUhj5nSiCwSYKvHYaTkH6EOH9HuptEI_HFiPOO69bZa7BcLApsuSZ0Yz81ZUFBcZc/s1600/CSC_9668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FkLe8nkRwqz_0uh213jSvUEegwk0LBhvsI44V-s4FYzY0xwSifRyttMBYYCZp6557B9-H28ruZadUhj5nSiCwSYKvHYaTkH6EOH9HuptEI_HFiPOO69bZa7BcLApsuSZ0Yz81ZUFBcZc/s400/CSC_9668.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snow!</td></tr>
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The next day we hop back on the bikes and accomplish 115 kilometers, the farthest day we've done in a while, due to a flat, paved road and a roaring tailwind. Quite a feat even though we left around noon! And that was on a day forecasted to have "moderate" winds. I don't want to be around, tailwind or not, when it becomes "severe."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Vt7IbiBLlhYI6AYHsmlsSZUIJaYJI6JQCpgBsTFSaIzIbwPfhN1gua4WA2gNbPBJwWCQge34sQhAbqrGGmbjsl2eu3q8PP7Cb0iSA7YFNCDEIucjxurVKtvVUDrKrkTjNUcTD2QhgjXe/s1600/CSC_9671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Vt7IbiBLlhYI6AYHsmlsSZUIJaYJI6JQCpgBsTFSaIzIbwPfhN1gua4WA2gNbPBJwWCQge34sQhAbqrGGmbjsl2eu3q8PP7Cb0iSA7YFNCDEIucjxurVKtvVUDrKrkTjNUcTD2QhgjXe/s640/CSC_9671.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again, our mirrors get most of the attention as we turn our handlebars towards the flat grasslands known as the <i>pampas</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwJRmdJUimsRLgMcUHny-RySsYxCdDT5QBnCXNA0l6iyPo7toiM8Gxn87hp1Eqzqa1tGAHa34xD5MXo620Mvj7XMbz28VlYrN4J5_e56-X1PjZlTfazo8wZ6KnPfMxUbQ_YhYUVgew9VB/s1600/CSC_9676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwJRmdJUimsRLgMcUHny-RySsYxCdDT5QBnCXNA0l6iyPo7toiM8Gxn87hp1Eqzqa1tGAHa34xD5MXo620Mvj7XMbz28VlYrN4J5_e56-X1PjZlTfazo8wZ6KnPfMxUbQ_YhYUVgew9VB/s640/CSC_9676.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That would be correct, if only there were trees</td></tr>
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We share the journey with three other cyclists: Susana and Pedro, an older couple from central Argentina, and Fabio, a comical Brazilian riding a folding bike with tiny wheels. We all spontaneously convene at Hotel La Leona, the only windbreak for many kilometers around, but they tell us it costs 158 pesos (around $12) per person to camp. We paid less per person for a private room in El Chaltén! When they quote an even higher price to Pedro and Susana, we all head out and wild camp across the river, hoping the wind won't pick up.<br />
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Fortunately we enjoy a calm night, and the rare tranquility stays with us all the way through the next day to the moment we had been dreading: the turn west into the wind. The 30 kilometer westward stretch to the town of El Calafate took a cyclist friend of ours five hours to traverse a few months ago, so even though we're tired near the end of another long day, we take advantage of the calm winds and push on.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZF3H3ellvBIw35MPPb0SPo7WXktXFLcDTv1Yr2V9LUiACEINYjRTm5D8l8i5uzzNgN5AAFxb3ojRXyXHVxQmGK_0gZNAwnrknEvX1askjFi2rpUNcPREPLLFri6f-GOrut5iZE0_HUJn0/s1600/CSC_9680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZF3H3ellvBIw35MPPb0SPo7WXktXFLcDTv1Yr2V9LUiACEINYjRTm5D8l8i5uzzNgN5AAFxb3ojRXyXHVxQmGK_0gZNAwnrknEvX1askjFi2rpUNcPREPLLFri6f-GOrut5iZE0_HUJn0/s640/CSC_9680.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The guanaco, relative of the llama, is king of the <i>pampas</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArpfQjXl6_wTh-7gxPW-Kdc02K7TqWOt9sONBF2DtSoSB8EnH776RvN4xh9Ubk-u68G4qcxaaC63-RRAl6wkT2xSjkoOqCHlhAfJPvhlxnWmreFAYeHztrUK7hWSjaXcY6aibPCEpLWQ1/s1600/CSC_9682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhArpfQjXl6_wTh-7gxPW-Kdc02K7TqWOt9sONBF2DtSoSB8EnH776RvN4xh9Ubk-u68G4qcxaaC63-RRAl6wkT2xSjkoOqCHlhAfJPvhlxnWmreFAYeHztrUK7hWSjaXcY6aibPCEpLWQ1/s400/CSC_9682.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Curious what most of Argentina looks like? This is it.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WkXphme8qZl3KltbW00lxwd6LLZMdQjk4fgJ6oPP1Uu5awj1ThZCdT5C-mQromsTfQDURq9mZZFSWUC7q_P0W4CT8efNzCtTYc16tp4wMNgL2DNevFa6B3H8xYCqwS6_0Y9Vvq4X4SaE/s1600/CSC_9685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WkXphme8qZl3KltbW00lxwd6LLZMdQjk4fgJ6oPP1Uu5awj1ThZCdT5C-mQromsTfQDURq9mZZFSWUC7q_P0W4CT8efNzCtTYc16tp4wMNgL2DNevFa6B3H8xYCqwS6_0Y9Vvq4X4SaE/s640/CSC_9685.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding by the spectacular Lago Argentino</td></tr>
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<b>Destination 2: Glacier Perito Moreno. </b>Born to be a tourist attraction, the great tongue of ice known as Perito Moreno lies 80 kilometers west of El Calafate. As it advances, it drops off blocks of ice, some creating small claps like gunshots as they hit the water, some huge, house-size pieces creating waves with a thunderous roar. A series of boardwalks allows visitors to creep right up next to the glacier, making every creak and quiver and crash exquisitely audible and visible. How could we miss the spectacle?!<br />
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In lieu of paying a fortune for an hour on a bus, we try our luck hitchhiking and meet a local couple interested in discussing the ins and outs of Argentine politics (with which U.S. politics is currently intertwined), two Polish scientists studying extraordinary lightning, a young family traveling by van from Argentina to Alaska, and some restaurateurs from the Atlantic coast of Argentina. What a day! </div>
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Oh, and the glacier! The photos don´t nearly do it justice, so as you´re looking, also try to hear the rumbles from its depths and gunshot-like splashes from blocks of ice hitting the water, feel the frigid winds blowing off its surface, imagine Patagonian steppe surrounding you and ascending into snowy peaks, dwarfing you and the hundreds of other travelers from all over the globe quietly taking it all in.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMZ3mXhiCc9xcHa92eis9fHfHwYvmOwt0TH20oA-_NU8QNEYmt4V0JCJGu9gtqMT_xGhlYW6xXwL9RuIwHXejjxRU-3AywG2ptDyGNHKlKvt33hwGXzhqyi49JVYSd7CodDIsdwY-Bpth/s1600/CSC_9746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYMZ3mXhiCc9xcHa92eis9fHfHwYvmOwt0TH20oA-_NU8QNEYmt4V0JCJGu9gtqMT_xGhlYW6xXwL9RuIwHXejjxRU-3AywG2ptDyGNHKlKvt33hwGXzhqyi49JVYSd7CodDIsdwY-Bpth/s640/CSC_9746.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With about 15 kilometers left to go, Perito is still <i>chiquito</i> (very small)...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnA3SASFR78V97-3IVddfiF7AHnm39_L1DF3u6TbssRXQsG8l2pfCyctBYFdsAygM3kgbhxXAQSw1GI1k1rEaSGUFQjEu8pw_bC5HENbiAmd3Oybtm2Q3GcpLy7teRA_vz5faW9sehFWd9/s1600/CSC_9747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnA3SASFR78V97-3IVddfiF7AHnm39_L1DF3u6TbssRXQsG8l2pfCyctBYFdsAygM3kgbhxXAQSw1GI1k1rEaSGUFQjEu8pw_bC5HENbiAmd3Oybtm2Q3GcpLy7teRA_vz5faW9sehFWd9/s640/CSC_9747.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...but up close it´s much bigger!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jbK9-cpb7qbi6_TAEbQ6pUW8J0ENCSI1DxPsfZGVRgh64pvkUXMALmEQTgGVaWP-GSIwKqHKRO-v6zdklmkxXZoaOdJDxNwHsZgViYN2l2NHeXixJbqcTLapY_oRKQN2xoPiqgzNWn-N/s1600/CSC_9748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jbK9-cpb7qbi6_TAEbQ6pUW8J0ENCSI1DxPsfZGVRgh64pvkUXMALmEQTgGVaWP-GSIwKqHKRO-v6zdklmkxXZoaOdJDxNwHsZgViYN2l2NHeXixJbqcTLapY_oRKQN2xoPiqgzNWn-N/s640/CSC_9748.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those walls are about 50 meters high... we´re still so far away that by the time we hear the sound from ice hitting the water, it´s too late, we won´t even see the splash.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiMAUR8Lm9u-Iq3Se6b9hwFpMwuftoMbAjOA46y_UxvgOFkfyIx-lmau0orcQfvkZuVAKVDq_GYhteqe3MDQ006D5ufYWDZBYBocqDF0z1qZLyD9uTY1vSS10yT603LU03dS5GIVdyw-E/s1600/CSC_9749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiMAUR8Lm9u-Iq3Se6b9hwFpMwuftoMbAjOA46y_UxvgOFkfyIx-lmau0orcQfvkZuVAKVDq_GYhteqe3MDQ006D5ufYWDZBYBocqDF0z1qZLyD9uTY1vSS10yT603LU03dS5GIVdyw-E/s640/CSC_9749.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue runs deep</td></tr>
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Route notes:<br />
<b>El Chaltén</b>: we stayed at Hostal Ahonikenk, a good deal at 300 pesos for a private room or 100 p/p for a dorm bed. It's a block towards town from the bus station.<br />
Our trek was scenic, though overwhelmingly popular. I wouldn't do it in the high season. We camped 2 nights free in the park, one at Poincenot (windy) and one at De Agostini (better).</div>
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<b>El Chaltén-El Calafate: </b>no water for 50 km after El Chaltén, none for the 65 km after that until crossing a big river. Hotel La Leona is at the river. This distance is easily attainable with the prevailing winds on your side for 90 kms.</div>
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There's another route, a dirt one, that diverges at La Leona and meets back up about 60 kms later; see Velofreedom.bike for details. We didn't take it because we found the traffic manageable on the main road, at least until turning off Ruta 40 towards El Calafate. Unfortunately there's no other option for this last part.</div>
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It's another 40ish km until the road crosses the river again - good, sheltered campsites at the bridge - then 25ish more to another river, camping available there too. No water from there to El Calafate, very few camping options. </div>
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<b>El Calafate/Perito Moreno: </b>Hospedaje Guerrero on Gregores (1 block N from La Anonima then 1/2 block east) was a great deal, 250 pesos for a private <i>matrimonial</i> or 100 p/p for bunk beds, including kitchen and fast wi-fi. Find a room with a window; it´s like a sauna in there.</div>
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The bus out to Perito Moreno costs 400-460 pesos round trip, and park entrance is 260 pesos for foreigners. We waited about an hour while hitching. Possible to bike, though the road would be supremely flat, boring, and windy, and camping is not allowed in that section of the park (though it wouldn't be hard to find a hidden spot).</div>
Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-37061613566528330792016-03-26T18:25:00.000-07:002016-08-15T20:52:02.806-07:00Time to be Tourists: The Southern Carretera Austral, March 1st-20th<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>La Tapera-Villa Mañihuales-Coyhaique-El Blanco-Villa Cerro Castillo-Puerto Rio Tranquilo-Puerto Bertrand-Cochrane-Puerto Yungay-Rio Bravo-Villa O´Higgins-Candelario Mancilla-Lago del Desierto</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEXBKQuXSsV6WbKf7VyDk1sY3i2sNit1f92K4pQRai68qM_VATqbznYfVLb_-Fn4sfQ7pqiN5LVFwD8Pr9qR5eW5KCmYXt2ep9h8bzkNbSMCUOMO15xnDW2TRQunlae5XnApqi7Ewb5vq/s1600/CSC_9237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigEXBKQuXSsV6WbKf7VyDk1sY3i2sNit1f92K4pQRai68qM_VATqbznYfVLb_-Fn4sfQ7pqiN5LVFwD8Pr9qR5eW5KCmYXt2ep9h8bzkNbSMCUOMO15xnDW2TRQunlae5XnApqi7Ewb5vq/s640/CSC_9237.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The southern Carretera Austral: wild and scenic</td></tr>
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As Chile narrows, there are fewer and fewer route choices. Plus, the Carretera Austral is famous for a reason right? Here's our account of our last few weeks riding this scenic road, and of course, a few exciting excursions off of it...<br />
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We begin the month of March by returning from our explorations to the Austral. The 50 kilometers we have to ride to get there are bumpy and washboardy. It just so happens that there was a fair in the tiny town of La Tapera over the weekend, and now everyone is going home, hauling trailers filled with prize horses behind them in giant clouds of dust. <br />
It suffices to say that by the time we reach the pavement of the main road, we are grateful for some smooth, dust-free riding.<br />
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It takes us another day and a half to reach the city of Coyhaique. Along the way we enjoy some wide glacial valleys, clear waterfalls, and the company of a French cyclist named David who started his trip in Vancouver, Canada! An upbeat and thoughtful guy, he keeps up with us just fine, even though he has an enormous trailer attached to his bike. We can't believe all the stuff he's carrying; he can't believe all the stuff we're<i> not</i> carrying. <br />
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Upon arrival in Coyhaique, it takes a bit of shopping around to find a good place to stay; everything is expensive. Eventually, we decide to invest slightly more in a hostel with a comfy bed. After sleeping for multiple months now on de-laminating sleeping pads that deflate every hour or so during the night, we're eager to actually have a comfortable night of sleep. Our choice? Aire Patagon, an adorable, family-run place. As often happens at hostels we meet some wonderful other travelers and end up talking late into the night. It's always fun to share adventure stories. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_E9biR8R46ga7bmxxWtqcaL4Gzvkg-AKFz-vsywOrJkV_HBu_F9q7oEEBF7lpU4NH4PXOqMuLF7NP7nuIiARdPTC7LoaVBIGGq998L_prVaB4z_KKZy4LRvAoEn7ZNYXY5tQXS_vnEIPX/s1600/CSC_8868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_E9biR8R46ga7bmxxWtqcaL4Gzvkg-AKFz-vsywOrJkV_HBu_F9q7oEEBF7lpU4NH4PXOqMuLF7NP7nuIiARdPTC7LoaVBIGGq998L_prVaB4z_KKZy4LRvAoEn7ZNYXY5tQXS_vnEIPX/s400/CSC_8868.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brrrr! Dropping temperatures necessitate functional sleeping pads</td></tr>
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Errands always take longer than you might think. Here's my summary of our second day in Coyhaique: <br />
The library computers are nice but log you out every 45 minutes; there's an internet cafe in the main square where we do our best to edit our resumes and apply for a summer job while five different musicians, a radio show, and a fair outside create total cacophony; and why does the airline website we're trying to buy plane tickets from keep glitching? The bike mechanic is still working on Danny's bike when we arrive, then we forget a backpack at the shop; the Patagonia store is always open, but today it's closed until late because of a cash register failure; the ATM in the supermarket isn't working so we need to search out another one; the lines to buy food are so long that they stretch way back into the aisles, and we still have to find the laundry place and pick up the laundry! <br />
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After our "rest days" we're exhausted when we finally bike out of town. Luckily, the wind is in our favor! A fabulous tailwind blows us 60 kilometers up into the Cerro Castillo Reserve where we find a beautiful camp spot. <br />
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March 6th! My birthday! <br />
Growing up, I always looked forward to birthday parties with friends. This year the only guest who showed up was Danny, but we still had a great party! Here are my five highlights of the day:<br />
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1) Biking. We have a beautiful, smooth ride through a river valley then a HUGE, fast descent into the valley below the spectacular peak of Cerro Castillo (Castle Peak). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjksHuxpx-pn5MW4_wHeRc7ShT0CEdrZ71ERjXQyT_mwaDCPg_egsyDVO723-3kZkcJAF39bfedxeI4pNbGtSBhY6QesdeLjCMPHK1zuM-irerInih1-aocWw_O4oRC5EMXR8NsBpsvaWdo/s1600/CSC_8819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjksHuxpx-pn5MW4_wHeRc7ShT0CEdrZ71ERjXQyT_mwaDCPg_egsyDVO723-3kZkcJAF39bfedxeI4pNbGtSBhY6QesdeLjCMPHK1zuM-irerInih1-aocWw_O4oRC5EMXR8NsBpsvaWdo/s640/CSC_8819.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A local forest fire adds a bit of smoke to the ride</td></tr>
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2) Hiking. We pack as much as we can in our tiny day packs and set off hiking to the laguna at the base of Cerro Castillo. The hike is very steep and takes longer than we anticipated, but it's worth it. As we reach the top of the final ridge, Cerro Castillo looms close, and yet still high above us. Cradled in a bowl of rock is an immense glacier which sends waterfalls thundering down the mountain's sheer cliffs. The laguna sits below, remarkably calm, an unbelievable shade of pure azure blue. As we stumble down the cliffside of loose rocks to the camping area, the setting sun hits the left jagged peak and sends golden rays shooting off into the gentle sky. It's hard to explain how amazing this place is. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFqRwFcBCuBQb9A0bpCGSX7jFBIn4zZcuvAHPtZ0BxNFfSimHf0y1Mgicf3jnwchhnFdsPJ3UR28YKtQ3mMTenCumK7wLBIHaJglMUNW0bHG7_3pTAvHEc5F6M1lxeNoTXzM_gJTosYZa/s1600/CSC_8829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFqRwFcBCuBQb9A0bpCGSX7jFBIn4zZcuvAHPtZ0BxNFfSimHf0y1Mgicf3jnwchhnFdsPJ3UR28YKtQ3mMTenCumK7wLBIHaJglMUNW0bHG7_3pTAvHEc5F6M1lxeNoTXzM_gJTosYZa/s640/CSC_8829.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cerro Castillo's beautiful, glacial laguna</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ia1UiZH43nETO17Tuk5HqY5_O4jiJcKZdXIEPHY82E9c4VS10cV8R-NXpZs8rhIDSxnwegGdxo_OqCk5ePpBNFQ_zyrdohxaLD4UqGSxA88Ov9ATiVbCS9x6IKXG0CzwvMZi30LicS2-/s1600/CSC_8820.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ia1UiZH43nETO17Tuk5HqY5_O4jiJcKZdXIEPHY82E9c4VS10cV8R-NXpZs8rhIDSxnwegGdxo_OqCk5ePpBNFQ_zyrdohxaLD4UqGSxA88Ov9ATiVbCS9x6IKXG0CzwvMZi30LicS2-/s640/CSC_8820.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65s2s-SNuQ0SLzdMThdG2Bo-8pGnBfpzMmwlOZM3l_XePKb6kYKU9gxyRRqEB5Z0e7Mv_npr_o3__UKJSdbvvm336BEYZjhRd9jM6UUQyxIfG3TKZxXICTncdH6JBbus-MmdrQDwhUTHw/s1600/CSC_8830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65s2s-SNuQ0SLzdMThdG2Bo-8pGnBfpzMmwlOZM3l_XePKb6kYKU9gxyRRqEB5Z0e7Mv_npr_o3__UKJSdbvvm336BEYZjhRd9jM6UUQyxIfG3TKZxXICTncdH6JBbus-MmdrQDwhUTHw/s640/CSC_8830.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cerro Castillooooooooooooooooo!</td></tr>
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3) Eating. We carried up a special Mexican dinner for tonight. Tortillas filled with perfectly seasoned guacamole, cheddar cheese, and a colorful veggie salad. Who says you need a stove for amazing food?<br />
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4) Surprise dessert. Way back in Pucón, a month ago, we bought two large chocolate bars, and then they mysteriously went missing. We checked all of our bags, asked our friends if they stole them (haha, but seriously, give them back), and finally decided that we must have left them accidentally at the supermarket. Not so! Today Danny is surprised to discover them at the bottom of the rear pocket of his backpack! They're a bit mangled, but still taste really good. Looks like we're going to have to eat a lot of chocolate tonight...<br />
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5) So many people sent texts, e-mails, and facebook messages to wish me a happy birthday. Thank you to my parents and to my friends half a world away who took time today to think about me. I appreciate it and love you all! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWIVTozbGAxzqJY2OdsqDLRxwRsYRCu9vVw2kr4XqPcNfEqS1SkA74VD1GMe45hjR2qb00aIKOA8J6H5wOdhWHZ_Pam7eVI3XsKwhJnYRqvQs3mCMwqA91J527bX5LQAYltVc8294Zqaz/s1600/CSC_8825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdWIVTozbGAxzqJY2OdsqDLRxwRsYRCu9vVw2kr4XqPcNfEqS1SkA74VD1GMe45hjR2qb00aIKOA8J6H5wOdhWHZ_Pam7eVI3XsKwhJnYRqvQs3mCMwqA91J527bX5LQAYltVc8294Zqaz/s640/CSC_8825.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A clear birthday night (birth-night?) in the tent</td></tr>
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We spend the next morning descending slowly back into town (cycling muscles are <i>not </i>made for walking downhill) and then chatting to other travelers in town. We're lucky enough to run into our two Belgian friends we met in Coyhaique, an adventurous couple from Malaysia, and a couple from the U.S. down here for a climbing trip. We see very few travelers from our country, and it's no surprise to us that they're from northern California. <br />
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The stretch of road south of Cerro Castillo is under construction, and the road is completely closed all afternoon. Since it's already late in the day when we leave, we are unable to ride on the Austral, but we can take an adventurous detour! As we turn onto a little-used 4x4 road, the wind whips the clouds above us into dragons that fly around the glaciated peaks above us. Our track is interesting, rocky, technical in places, and there's not a person or animal in sight. Below we hear the rumble of contruction trucks and blasts of dynamite. We're both certain that we made the right road choice. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Hc1qFjueO3zecctuwi_JuDFbayioJ-uL9Lsj-KMLrd65erxpTndUPKoCI03WONWsL_uFtn_z5DsNi8ZrEzdanxQ036z7oo7SxKCdhlcIC4psZflsnuXRWC8pCu_XgndMkbCWt31Y-OAA/s1600/CSC_8852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Hc1qFjueO3zecctuwi_JuDFbayioJ-uL9Lsj-KMLrd65erxpTndUPKoCI03WONWsL_uFtn_z5DsNi8ZrEzdanxQ036z7oo7SxKCdhlcIC4psZflsnuXRWC8pCu_XgndMkbCWt31Y-OAA/s400/CSC_8852.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unused track > trafficked construction zone</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, out here there is a surprising amount of private land. To reach our next road we have to lift the bikes over numerous fences, and when it comes time to camp, we have no choice but to go through someone's gate. We would ask for permisssion, but we haven't seen a single house. Luckily, with no traffic and no one around, there is no one to care about our trespassing.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNR1oCEiRxL6L5cgJNHBCr-NMWXOBe-c8_nC4F7iidmWSqYutpb4tZsD4ku-XXIFbnGTuRfJr4WNG3Gfx2yGDEoNWYr4jWXNoj1fyKQjMzJc5Jj_-WIhe-rq3X5yJ9AQGTQ_tyXw68MPjp/s1600/CSC_8853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNR1oCEiRxL6L5cgJNHBCr-NMWXOBe-c8_nC4F7iidmWSqYutpb4tZsD4ku-XXIFbnGTuRfJr4WNG3Gfx2yGDEoNWYr4jWXNoj1fyKQjMzJc5Jj_-WIhe-rq3X5yJ9AQGTQ_tyXw68MPjp/s400/CSC_8853.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup, that´s our road ending in a fence. Without a gate around, we get an arm workout.</td></tr>
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The next morning dawns windy and bright. I never know how to predict when these Patagonia winds are going to be howling. The scenery is beautiful. We pass by multiple lakes, and as I peer through openings in the trees down at thier tranquil, brilliant, blue waters, I feel as if we are the first people to discover them. These lakes are still secret wonderlands free from houses, cabañas, and campgrounds. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpM3ZAs6KYobsLjb8eYFaxzY9hbDX-tcVZWaRzUbomTG0e8pwkPxc69gKwcSown9W2plAYZKWGkR3mF6gCEfjClN_6vQ5WOmwAYu0kvm_nVNTFoMjyyTA7q9m9zaYsZPvqKGR3ACWAgIT/s1600/CSC_8854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpM3ZAs6KYobsLjb8eYFaxzY9hbDX-tcVZWaRzUbomTG0e8pwkPxc69gKwcSown9W2plAYZKWGkR3mF6gCEfjClN_6vQ5WOmwAYu0kvm_nVNTFoMjyyTA7q9m9zaYsZPvqKGR3ACWAgIT/s640/CSC_8854.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful riding</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qRIOYC1SuSDNhZ1yTiz-_GnFe7dxJZ80hZoy9N1jnFrhmGpsqOh1pcKgEBDveSfFNks11JTMnuml2vd4KLVeehCMjV5LL9jH2MfWbHdRADYcWtkoX2ynWUsICeFQHmg05LkK3hjzvpZn/s1600/CSC_8856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qRIOYC1SuSDNhZ1yTiz-_GnFe7dxJZ80hZoy9N1jnFrhmGpsqOh1pcKgEBDveSfFNks11JTMnuml2vd4KLVeehCMjV5LL9jH2MfWbHdRADYcWtkoX2ynWUsICeFQHmg05LkK3hjzvpZn/s640/CSC_8856.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild lakes</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7xDs8MN3ELu7p8AAh8tf6aBU1OqRtSOWMuZqi9J_LaoKwxrgk7skdLlnbemdZS-3rnfAtLh7TY-wx6qmhJuzIEnbNXwKXR5-OZu__beVQE_NuKreTCsBvK7zirMnkG3TdsQAiVEWn3ea/s1600/CSC_8857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7xDs8MN3ELu7p8AAh8tf6aBU1OqRtSOWMuZqi9J_LaoKwxrgk7skdLlnbemdZS-3rnfAtLh7TY-wx6qmhJuzIEnbNXwKXR5-OZu__beVQE_NuKreTCsBvK7zirMnkG3TdsQAiVEWn3ea/s640/CSC_8857.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But fortunately not too wild... good thing there´s a bridge!</td></tr>
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We're back on the Austral just before lunch, and a short bit of riding frees us from the contruction zone. Now that we're past the road work, it's actually a blessing. All traffic is stopped on the other side, and we have the road to oursleves. Huge, glaciated mountains have become an ordinary, everyday occurrence in the landscape. We're spoiled.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNQiNHnIbvCJlhzB6x7bQdAubH6lum7iqV5XJmWRCTQWtUv_aCxAJqQ7HvM0L86XjVJZSJKHWyB9uihU4xOtf_OKBgHf1doOdLut4CVqUY3PLG5zWNOAjawwSUHVRWb-vfaXHcoLodiEd/s1600/CSC_9139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNQiNHnIbvCJlhzB6x7bQdAubH6lum7iqV5XJmWRCTQWtUv_aCxAJqQ7HvM0L86XjVJZSJKHWyB9uihU4xOtf_OKBgHf1doOdLut4CVqUY3PLG5zWNOAjawwSUHVRWb-vfaXHcoLodiEd/s640/CSC_9139.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Austral is scenic, there´s no denying that</td></tr>
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The following day, we pedal our way to the largest lake in Chile, Lago General Carrera. Where the river we've been following joins it, there is a beautiful burst of light teal into the darker turquoise of the lake. The water features around here all seem to be in a battle to create my favorite color.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDxQvd7DNWzBTY_L8J64oavi0EpFpv97kSdwfxRKkVaryTjQWf3e5KF1hnJc-_MD-4asw6xD-vOxky61A1gnJaHdIeocGkK5Kka9w0UVJkoo6gq_0MO7YM0hl3TVdd3j4Pmbj7mYXvWbp/s1600/CSC_8870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDxQvd7DNWzBTY_L8J64oavi0EpFpv97kSdwfxRKkVaryTjQWf3e5KF1hnJc-_MD-4asw6xD-vOxky61A1gnJaHdIeocGkK5Kka9w0UVJkoo6gq_0MO7YM0hl3TVdd3j4Pmbj7mYXvWbp/s640/CSC_8870.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The gorgeous Rio Murta</td></tr>
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In the afternoon we reach Puerto Rio Tranquilo and are seduced into signing up for the touristy trip out to the marble caves on the lake. We're not entirely sure what to expect, but it sounds interesting enough that we're willing to spend $10 on it.<br />
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The light is best in the morning for observing the mable formations, so at 9:30 am the guide for our 9:00 trip shows up and tosses us some life vests. Here we go! I'll let the pictures tell the story from here. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0fu1m318Xu79vHlMm9w_vFwHL8ZPwYfohR60THQwwBYTqbItSXrJnO0vwjhoyjFtA2h6U0puFmKy6E6-uN36bcCBg2UZzllvz7TiwG4Jd0Cf0T29eFNu0uYE4SQQhDIwjNGxheZp3Jeq/s1600/CSC_9018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW0fu1m318Xu79vHlMm9w_vFwHL8ZPwYfohR60THQwwBYTqbItSXrJnO0vwjhoyjFtA2h6U0puFmKy6E6-uN36bcCBg2UZzllvz7TiwG4Jd0Cf0T29eFNu0uYE4SQQhDIwjNGxheZp3Jeq/s640/CSC_9018.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A calm morning on the lake...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdet59rSat9TpxE7yJVg5F8PDPzYafxXXQWicvj-K8LZgDUJZl5BXTFp0HrhpG1Vx8wstkv9FmNz8jYmcIjMtkeJ04w53pOQsmB3pXp7I-azDiICcd-KIKZW5h0P3fVlREfyLZzwQnlWo/s1600/CSC_9019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdet59rSat9TpxE7yJVg5F8PDPzYafxXXQWicvj-K8LZgDUJZl5BXTFp0HrhpG1Vx8wstkv9FmNz8jYmcIjMtkeJ04w53pOQsmB3pXp7I-azDiICcd-KIKZW5h0P3fVlREfyLZzwQnlWo/s640/CSC_9019.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...takes us to striking marble formations...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikv6eKL6SW8qQ8QI35gpuKEHaxzXMiS4Z1sWbwCK6RC6CVwbBs6cX-BLnIsG_d42yHw71vdxtvEK3sR_9g3HOg0p02MjRsF3-BfLXjSx17n_ZmOC24OLQjH-ZH44HP5Yic8_UHiTEsmDgu/s1600/CSC_9022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikv6eKL6SW8qQ8QI35gpuKEHaxzXMiS4Z1sWbwCK6RC6CVwbBs6cX-BLnIsG_d42yHw71vdxtvEK3sR_9g3HOg0p02MjRsF3-BfLXjSx17n_ZmOC24OLQjH-ZH44HP5Yic8_UHiTEsmDgu/s400/CSC_9022.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...this geological phenomenon that looks like a dog...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgis33ZRHrcpCficPQs0OBdPPdu_80nmR-phYjYmOlvPr6JIOwGjPk-1o-GP0mAi1Rs34dftZ6Gl3kSgZUaBRHwOKrVz4oktBK0GLEqXaN3-NtqJBDpvA5NoHgZkNfeAwMKkDhbc_udMHYr/s1600/CSC_9023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgis33ZRHrcpCficPQs0OBdPPdu_80nmR-phYjYmOlvPr6JIOwGjPk-1o-GP0mAi1Rs34dftZ6Gl3kSgZUaBRHwOKrVz4oktBK0GLEqXaN3-NtqJBDpvA5NoHgZkNfeAwMKkDhbc_udMHYr/s400/CSC_9023.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and this one that looks like a tree, the roots reaching deep underwater.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigX-CLq3akYldzLogndnvrZlzfIsOTmFWi8rjnWh-Jk2e5O-nyu5n2hIJ3jvRpUsJ6gyZc5A7ZR-EuRDIsX-B3M2aH26bQr-phQpyyeMpwsGFXf2O1Ty_uP-D0to6NR4VJQNGE78CZpIqB/s1600/CSC_9027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigX-CLq3akYldzLogndnvrZlzfIsOTmFWi8rjnWh-Jk2e5O-nyu5n2hIJ3jvRpUsJ6gyZc5A7ZR-EuRDIsX-B3M2aH26bQr-phQpyyeMpwsGFXf2O1Ty_uP-D0to6NR4VJQNGE78CZpIqB/s400/CSC_9027.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More marble caves, this time with color...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvMjB2DipRLIi2FetTpefuT83rr1_dAb8UQNiyjByEySkEwFBTiv8s_GSKirAdc-zOP-kZRSTCWrV1Be8iKFosiF4EqRBGFNIXQhcM9BMAIlb6gQizkyjrm5uYMXEhDkn0iPRaQX7gF5d/s1600/CSC_9055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvMjB2DipRLIi2FetTpefuT83rr1_dAb8UQNiyjByEySkEwFBTiv8s_GSKirAdc-zOP-kZRSTCWrV1Be8iKFosiF4EqRBGFNIXQhcM9BMAIlb6gQizkyjrm5uYMXEhDkn0iPRaQX7gF5d/s400/CSC_9055.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and views through the rock to the other side, lit up by the sun.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6alR9HH4KLnjrW1FPaintv2Ga_MdW_f5hGcQ2yPw70UA8rxE-mDCOW_ozFmSqpQSIILPObpKljZVCLw4M3LzMYKtCqUWkxmzPNxM-sfcXLnlyUIKq0B23Th5u8Q0rFgPkQ13SwDQlAytw/s1600/CSC_9065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6alR9HH4KLnjrW1FPaintv2Ga_MdW_f5hGcQ2yPw70UA8rxE-mDCOW_ozFmSqpQSIILPObpKljZVCLw4M3LzMYKtCqUWkxmzPNxM-sfcXLnlyUIKq0B23Th5u8Q0rFgPkQ13SwDQlAytw/s640/CSC_9065.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After visiting the exquisite ¨Capilla de Mármol¨ - the marble chapel - ...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5LaEv4spDAsHMfXkIe4oZr9UbDakuR5owtnHCXpGRavnSdluHb0gXlfHDLZcVmYFCDDPRf06CAg0uR1DFjWOoCFKu4jfBv6RZfPgtttOa61bDuu4cMU2Ip9Sy-eMtEerh4L5Mraz45wz/s1600/CSC_9038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ5LaEv4spDAsHMfXkIe4oZr9UbDakuR5owtnHCXpGRavnSdluHb0gXlfHDLZcVmYFCDDPRf06CAg0uR1DFjWOoCFKu4jfBv6RZfPgtttOa61bDuu4cMU2Ip9Sy-eMtEerh4L5Mraz45wz/s400/CSC_9038.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...the ride back is a bit like whitewater rafting.</td></tr>
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Back in Puerto Rio Tranquilo we learn that both of our new sleeping mats should be in Coyhaique tomorrow!<br />
A bit of background here: We've been coordinating logistics for a couple months now, trying to figure out the arrival of new mats to replace our old, deflating ones. You can imagine our excitement when we realize that they had finally arrived! No more cold nights! We abandon all plans of biking and set about finding a place to leave the bikes before hitching a ride back to the big city.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtMkbA0NlLIcG2V3ppelHbOD6g3Un_2XqvqHejT1KctkncEaqKrl-HxwPcL2LlHIqwqCSwyKssshHlhEUE9WnBwEnbBZ8CsFtLxFdOJZsfm3WwHL-Lp6yb2IpcwRW4h1T0OCK8K_gprrD8/s1600/CSC_9040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtMkbA0NlLIcG2V3ppelHbOD6g3Un_2XqvqHejT1KctkncEaqKrl-HxwPcL2LlHIqwqCSwyKssshHlhEUE9WnBwEnbBZ8CsFtLxFdOJZsfm3WwHL-Lp6yb2IpcwRW4h1T0OCK8K_gprrD8/s640/CSC_9040.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No cars passing means plenty of time for artsy photography!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTiCWLvLZkBAYAty94JxfJe1Iyvj6V-du0gLvjXUUhTe6KCp5x9riYKRhhWyB-L80fAMWflC5rIm_Q5CODjqjsgHds_LQ7dMaqmtagE1UGsejG5yc0D_AOJI7v9Ksy7U2RG3r1qNiB9Az/s1600/CSC_9049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTiCWLvLZkBAYAty94JxfJe1Iyvj6V-du0gLvjXUUhTe6KCp5x9riYKRhhWyB-L80fAMWflC5rIm_Q5CODjqjsgHds_LQ7dMaqmtagE1UGsejG5yc0D_AOJI7v9Ksy7U2RG3r1qNiB9Az/s400/CSC_9049.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The saddest dog ever joins us by the side of the road</td></tr>
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<div>
After a few hours of no traffic and no rides, a bus comes by and we hop on. Unfortunately, the construction zone that we mostly avoided with our bikes stops the bus for hours. It's a long trip.<br />
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<div>
Happily, our sunny, productive day in Coyhaique is worth the long journey back north. <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">The best part is meeting up with Paloma! (One of our amazing warm showers hosts from Puerto Varas.) She grew up here in this town and has an interesting local perspective. Not to mention, she delivers one of our new mats! Our other mat comes in a package from Dan and Gina. Our wonderful friends have also included lens caps for Danny's camera and all natural, organic, peanut butter!! It seems that they know us quite well.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXE7zSGcKZXn_Ne2KIkDKGGBFzcK_C9GnFKMoL7K5dW69jA3BLUPhHKeLy9-X0Jq4ZSLDISxZLsC_YqCd2i_YK40Xqj0ASY63aPWz_oki4fVZ3PgizgUShFa4Bzpq9OK-jAMTmA4qWb4s/s1600/CSC_9166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXE7zSGcKZXn_Ne2KIkDKGGBFzcK_C9GnFKMoL7K5dW69jA3BLUPhHKeLy9-X0Jq4ZSLDISxZLsC_YqCd2i_YK40Xqj0ASY63aPWz_oki4fVZ3PgizgUShFa4Bzpq9OK-jAMTmA4qWb4s/s400/CSC_9166.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another good reason to regress to Coyhaique: the trusty Brooks saddle I´ve ridden since Alaska split near the nose, leaving a floppy piece of rubber. At the bike shop I find...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgLJBfJbCes5N6EFFZU1vApkje6iJ5IUikCyeqe93XCdCAPDsadVsSbLZJdNhSh5xA1L6lasvlIuiya24RUjKQPKeKWNAI58xKCDHP4ybQXPV1reLvfZGiGkeeZ-Cmuf9W8A9Gdb1WnE-/s1600/CSC_9170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgLJBfJbCes5N6EFFZU1vApkje6iJ5IUikCyeqe93XCdCAPDsadVsSbLZJdNhSh5xA1L6lasvlIuiya24RUjKQPKeKWNAI58xKCDHP4ybQXPV1reLvfZGiGkeeZ-Cmuf9W8A9Gdb1WnE-/s640/CSC_9170.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Velo Senso! Somewhat of a gamble putting it on my bike and hoping to ride a few thousand kilometers, but it´s been working well so far.</td></tr>
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<div>
Late in the day we head out of town to try and get a ride back in the direction of Rio Tranquilo. We're lucky to get picked up by a happy crew of young folks going our way. They drop us off 10 kilometers or so out of town and we set up camp in a friendly farmer's field. <br />
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A total of four more hitches gets us to Rio Tranquilo. It's still a long ride back, but hitching is far more interesting than the bus. We meet all sorts of characters, including construction workers, an agronomist, and some guys going to a rodeo specifically to eat lots of grilled meat. As vegetarians, that's not really our thing, but they're still interesting to talk to!<br />
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Feeling stiff after all our time in the car, we're excited to get back onto our preferred form of transportation. This time with our bags packed with new thermarests! We roll out of Rio Tranquilo late in the day and enjoy some ups and downs by the lake. As we start searching for a camp spot, an enormous white mountain appears on the horizon. Our first sighting of the northern icefield! I can't help but feel inspired as we stop to stare out at the expansive landscape. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUDV-2d6VhlfCn8Ezue82BriYoq2xD5afoyXpzMxcIUfoL8zz_6Gx8OWIbJtm3JyLG52XsEwCceHltZhcQbOmSLJjAav4AvWRGUvaMs5FORB_uJVybjnwDvqbkmgUhJO80O0Hy7VjhS5B/s1600/CSC_9134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRUDV-2d6VhlfCn8Ezue82BriYoq2xD5afoyXpzMxcIUfoL8zz_6Gx8OWIbJtm3JyLG52XsEwCceHltZhcQbOmSLJjAav4AvWRGUvaMs5FORB_uJVybjnwDvqbkmgUhJO80O0Hy7VjhS5B/s640/CSC_9134.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peaks at the edge of the northern icefield under a stormy sky</td></tr>
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The morning is clear and beautiful. As Danny cycles over a bridge, I stop to talk to five motorcyclists from Indonesia traveling along the Carretera Austral. When I tell them that we cycled from Alaska they are so impressed that they all start bowing to me. I start to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Five burly motorcycle guys bowing to a skinny, dirty girl on a pedal bike; it's a sight you don't often see.<br />
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A nice morning ride brings us to the town of Puerto Bertrand around lunch time. It's a small place, just a handful of houses perched on the shore of a brilliant turquoise lake. We ask at one of the local business to fill our bottles with water. The guy who comes to the door is rather beady eyed and his belly fat sags out of the bottom of his plaid shirt. I can tell that he has a big personality even before he speaks. "How many liters you got?" he asks us. "Why?" we inquire. He informs us that he charges 1,000 pesos (about $1.50) per liter; this is water that you need to pay for. Then he launches into a lecture about how the water from the lake is clean and free, but the water from this spigot is expensive and the tank it comes from is dirty; it has never been cleaned and there are probably dead animals in it!<br />
We're both a bit amused about how vehemently this guy dislikes the public water system which was probably established to improve local santitation. We thank him politely and go to fill our bottles from the lake, noting this as the most interesting response we've ever gotten when asking for water.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9RuSLA73h4ETvE77j5P8F0LxuZT8MBVJECCaQ2iTarFgwH0O6SHA42006eRWucTAnXnii8lBtzAR4HpTKQzbeAsPKw3cx7ZrnBIRsQj4fbHvvfEQ4n_pUJnbYN1nPDS9vK-WFm9rFUZC/s1600/CSC_9120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq9RuSLA73h4ETvE77j5P8F0LxuZT8MBVJECCaQ2iTarFgwH0O6SHA42006eRWucTAnXnii8lBtzAR4HpTKQzbeAsPKw3cx7ZrnBIRsQj4fbHvvfEQ4n_pUJnbYN1nPDS9vK-WFm9rFUZC/s400/CSC_9120.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filling water from the otherworldly waters of Lago Bertrand</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoiDVJENfrbV9_XNnP5O1lf4rO07lfUdm0_Tk2chLbOcv7dSm34tGHN77-iddTA9msYof52Fjod7lTR4ty5OYB8f7kgPGnsE07hXiXRK6gGf9XMpNBKfuACoiOKfVn6ZiIKpI7T9GCzaL/s1600/CSC_9122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoiDVJENfrbV9_XNnP5O1lf4rO07lfUdm0_Tk2chLbOcv7dSm34tGHN77-iddTA9msYof52Fjod7lTR4ty5OYB8f7kgPGnsE07hXiXRK6gGf9XMpNBKfuACoiOKfVn6ZiIKpI7T9GCzaL/s400/CSC_9122.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A slower pace of life here...</td></tr>
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The following day we reach the town of Cochrane. Another town! The people who told us that the Carretera Austral was remote were wrong! We've passed through tons of small towns, and Cochrane in particular has everything that we could need, including a huge grocery store and functional wifi! Although, I should note that it's all about perspective. When you've cycled through Alaskan tundra, northern Argentina's Puna, and the altiplano of Bolivia, everything seems developed. </div>
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We roll out of town late and quickly spot a beautiful campsite next to a lake. Yea, we haven't ridden much today but this place is just too beautiful to pass up. Plus, we deserve an easy day once in a while. </div>
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Things are changing as we head south. Fewer cows and more sheep, fewer fences and houses and more wild land, less traffic and more glaciers! We're both happy to finally be getting into the Patagonia that we've imagined and dreamed about.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fewer cars mean less dust... thank goodness</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Baker River, Chile´s mightiest, matching the sky hue for hue</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scenery keeps getting better..</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and better.</td></tr>
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Th only complication is that southern Patagonia also comes with more lakes, and lakes mean ferries. When we arrive in Puerto Yungay we learn that what we read online was wrong and we'll have to wait numerous hours for the ferry to leave. There's not much at the port, just a small waiting area and a tiny cafe. The lady who runs the cafe is rather sullen but makes some delicious raspberry cake. I can't really fault her for the sour attitude, she lives all alone out here. There's not even a town, just tourists and the occasional local passing through.<br />
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By the time we arrive on the other side of the lake it's getting late and threatening rain. We decide to stay in the waiting shelter, a well-designed, enclosed space. There is something so wonderful about being inside, cozy and warm, while the rain drums on the roof outside.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fortunately we have lots of windows so we don´t feel too cooped up</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During a rainstorm, welcome to heaven.</td></tr>
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The last part of the Carretera austral from Puerto Yungay to Villa O´Higgins is undoubtedly our favorite. Traffic has reached a new low, and every mountain seems to have a glacier with countless waterfalls descending from it in white tendrils. The sky is threatening rain, but a roaring tailwind keeps us mostly ahead of it as we ride.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the countless crystal-clear rivers</td></tr>
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As we pedal through a hilly section I look to my left and spot a condor rising from the valley next to us, just feet away and exactly at eye level. He swivels his wrinkly head to look at us before rising to soar on the updrafts. We've never been so close to one of these magnificent birds. It certainly gives you a sense of how big they are!</div>
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The Carretera Austral officially ends at the port a few kilometers south of Villa O'Higgins, a cozy little town with lots of small houses and a beautiful public library. To continue onwards to Argentina, cyclists and backpackers (this crossing isn't transitable by vehicle) must take a boat across Lake O'Higgins, which isn't as simple as it sounds. Due to inclement weather and infrequent boats, travelers often get stuck here for weeks or days waiting for passage.<br />
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We're far luckier than most. After a frustrating day asking everyone who knows anything about boats, we convince a local captain that he should organize a trip for tomorrow. Captain Toto, as he is known by the locals, is a member of a family that had been here since the beginning of things in this remote town, transporting construction materials and supplies across the lake. He's also supremely nice. When he spots us biking out to sleep at the dock, he throws us the keys to his boat, "sleep on board tonight!"<br />
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Thus, we're warm and sleepy below deck when the boat sets out into the lake at 6 am. We wake up for a moment to feel bad for the other passengers who had to wake up so early to get here. When the sun starts to rise, we emerge to check out the views. Sunrise on sparkling glaciers and cold spray from waves on the lake leave me feeling a bit giddy with the excitement of the morning and what's ahead.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aUCao3k0mK3OsinHoBrO-1rZcRjlynkFB36oIusT2OYTWD-TRTkblDKR7OaB2Fq6xZlCR0-nZxbKeLip69jrf_OePcGalDgHbQzI5UpKXWlFsitE-ZJdVPhLoqgobqWEfFrtKXlBQ5KR/s1600/CSC_9372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aUCao3k0mK3OsinHoBrO-1rZcRjlynkFB36oIusT2OYTWD-TRTkblDKR7OaB2Fq6xZlCR0-nZxbKeLip69jrf_OePcGalDgHbQzI5UpKXWlFsitE-ZJdVPhLoqgobqWEfFrtKXlBQ5KR/s640/CSC_9372.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lago O´Higgins in the morning light<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ95QBOKW6S5cPYta5prReIUhX_yBnLVISIme0s-wj0lm8ifJuPQawyYhHWIdsQ0ROctBYnksuJKeHrtBrb0Yf2aXGTERdAr_N2OD6qYKGzA_ufPwu_egqpXEMhTikjEFOQ6XIwUdfdYZp/s1600/CSC_9359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ95QBOKW6S5cPYta5prReIUhX_yBnLVISIme0s-wj0lm8ifJuPQawyYhHWIdsQ0ROctBYnksuJKeHrtBrb0Yf2aXGTERdAr_N2OD6qYKGzA_ufPwu_egqpXEMhTikjEFOQ6XIwUdfdYZp/s400/CSC_9359.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our boat. Not the newest, nor the shiniest or most comfortable, but the one that´s running, and that´s what counts!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsPnRg5RMikA7E2aniDYXQzas8l4PDZB86-b7DdD0QQqHFlojCaQDQW06eMrYaIaPJ-5DEYCZa_1MdozsSFn8ji5dZYiPJYh7gSnNPGk_B5BVnYFTlumnh_PmA0tO89ZW6JjDxOuk_FtC/s1600/CSC_9363.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsPnRg5RMikA7E2aniDYXQzas8l4PDZB86-b7DdD0QQqHFlojCaQDQW06eMrYaIaPJ-5DEYCZa_1MdozsSFn8ji5dZYiPJYh7gSnNPGk_B5BVnYFTlumnh_PmA0tO89ZW6JjDxOuk_FtC/s640/CSC_9363.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Soberania on its return trip, a tiny blip on the massive lake</td></tr>
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There's chaos at the dock when we arrive. Everyone's unloading from our boat, and a huge group of others cyclists and backpackers anxiously waits to load on. I imagine that it would be much harder getting stuck on this side because there are no grocery stores! How would you plan how much food to bring when the boat schedule is so erratic?<br />
We head up the hill and get stamped out of Chile at border control, then ride on up into the mountains. Our light set-ups really pay off in this kind of terrain; we soon outdistance everyone else. The biking is beautiful and fun; the 4x4 track in Chile turns into a mostly rideable trail in Argentina. As we near the end of the trail we crest a hill and are rewarded with an incredible view of the turquoise Lago del Desierto and Fitzroy in the distance! The mountain is unmistakable due to its shape and splendor, and we're psyched to see it!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekv5nyo-3nqxCFwRYsv3yW1tRILXUSJSn8vy7lNVwaTSiPxbXIbTkqZ_9MxUtAD8hDFkn-tzHKj_rV5bdsBktRPsRAsFu0vSqO6NqadDmZH43Y8HSb1I5k3QCDQf1aLe32mnmDSr5ZWMd/s1600/CSC_9365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekv5nyo-3nqxCFwRYsv3yW1tRILXUSJSn8vy7lNVwaTSiPxbXIbTkqZ_9MxUtAD8hDFkn-tzHKj_rV5bdsBktRPsRAsFu0vSqO6NqadDmZH43Y8HSb1I5k3QCDQf1aLe32mnmDSr5ZWMd/s640/CSC_9365.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam navigating the singletrack on the Argentine side</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VFZak3Xa_EKxPr11aHNRISFRzPPQlSdPvDwgIbzAWLwsvvs_3RsUSzStucMofliBAVEkJI06Yv4FDzhBHJIxSraGhY75tuzQNy7nsAwZE6fA2nhq9bq_jyuOIiR0eN3_aI5a86RJgxJ_/s1600/CSC_9366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_VFZak3Xa_EKxPr11aHNRISFRzPPQlSdPvDwgIbzAWLwsvvs_3RsUSzStucMofliBAVEkJI06Yv4FDzhBHJIxSraGhY75tuzQNy7nsAwZE6fA2nhq9bq_jyuOIiR0eN3_aI5a86RJgxJ_/s400/CSC_9366.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can´t ride through this, unfortunately</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAm_IL762Fhf-H5QtHt06wNocytZpFE75enIeGLmr_n5fh51xzmbT8m_4gDYQZzIPNCvolZN45GNOeIj18z5vhhhyphenhyphendk1_SgL6fVkvCPZd5YffoVEWHNjMTImaQBO3UbEtbTVxoESjFtPU/s1600/CSC_9447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoAm_IL762Fhf-H5QtHt06wNocytZpFE75enIeGLmr_n5fh51xzmbT8m_4gDYQZzIPNCvolZN45GNOeIj18z5vhhhyphenhyphendk1_SgL6fVkvCPZd5YffoVEWHNjMTImaQBO3UbEtbTVxoESjFtPU/s640/CSC_9447.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Lago del Desierto and its treasure at the end: Cerro Fitzroy! </span></td></tr>
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At the shore of Lago del Desierto we officially enter Argentina and decide how to best cross the lake. There are three options:<br />
1) Take a boat with our bikes.<br />
2) Put the bikes on the boat then hike a trail around the lake.<br />
3) Hike with the bikes on the trail around the lake.<br />
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We decide on option 3: it's cheapest (the boat is super expensive and we have hardly any Argentinian money) and we can start early tomorrow morning on our own schedule.<br />
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I wouldn't recommend this to any other cyclist. It takes us six hours to do twelve kilometers around the lake, carrying our bikes over logs and creeks, and pushing up and down extremely steep, slippery trails. As Danny puts it, it seems like someone made this trail specifically to be as difficult as possible to traverse on bike.<br />
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Things are made a bit better by the spectacular scenery. We pass through lots of old growth forest, and the mountain on the other side of the lake is dripping with glaciers.<br />
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The end of the trail presents a final challenge. There's a large river we must cross to get to the road. There's a bridge, but it looks like it's going to collapse with both of us and a bike going across. There are no stairs leading up to it, just a steep ramp make from two wobbly, slippery wooden planks. The "railings" are made from fraying rope and many planks are missing. The whole thing sways when you step onto it. Good thing Danny and I are a good team. It takes both of us working creatively to get the bikes up and safely across. Then, finally, we're on the road and heading to El Chalten!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYHjowy_o-q6ANjkiKLt0sK582e17CNuzS4mIWUsixOO2uvlynWksV5s7i3fMYBDkwrEKxVWRieh-dFHRP89iMOMKtm488Gp_u5mIc38fsDd1o7zhixTewaALXmVwiofcSKnzOKNtKrDl2/s1600/CSC_9429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYHjowy_o-q6ANjkiKLt0sK582e17CNuzS4mIWUsixOO2uvlynWksV5s7i3fMYBDkwrEKxVWRieh-dFHRP89iMOMKtm488Gp_u5mIc38fsDd1o7zhixTewaALXmVwiofcSKnzOKNtKrDl2/s640/CSC_9429.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail around the Lago del Desierto was, let´s just say, less rideable than we had hoped</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8h4B5g22yyFcb9Ji9ysQxfbv-5Chiw15fqQAG_75Yb1EKXMWEv-8ZLj5Y-JyH3F07M2a9nig0fVXmL-J6awX8TSv4lTle3G2uUqvLkJZJlsOSZ2Qoa3_aUUeuodjq1N6mbyezrIIQhZls/s1600/CSC_9437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8h4B5g22yyFcb9Ji9ysQxfbv-5Chiw15fqQAG_75Yb1EKXMWEv-8ZLj5Y-JyH3F07M2a9nig0fVXmL-J6awX8TSv4lTle3G2uUqvLkJZJlsOSZ2Qoa3_aUUeuodjq1N6mbyezrIIQhZls/s640/CSC_9437.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrhNgLcLn4sCDcTCmsw3OH8a67evOGsQWOuX-xfqidJkMoSBIp2TT6QAmIpYR74ehpMdF0j9prP1MBkSgVtpYKGMVdg5bCEnWWbv4UJUHg15M4eMajVJa5RtXAL-L0E2MTgzNLOiL9U8F/s1600/CSC_9440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrhNgLcLn4sCDcTCmsw3OH8a67evOGsQWOuX-xfqidJkMoSBIp2TT6QAmIpYR74ehpMdF0j9prP1MBkSgVtpYKGMVdg5bCEnWWbv4UJUHg15M4eMajVJa5RtXAL-L0E2MTgzNLOiL9U8F/s640/CSC_9440.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tough enough just walking down</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTj40k58LxH9s2OW5b4umaLnZ33rJDXK0RB5rOKWY1uWjFm0yO9XtpETSL07FR2hcpAQ62z8O0MRGhYgRJLixrVtuFnKIEaNJwLLTTk866EFwR9bJaUPL6jVhex23T_KLWMf4nCdcoRDO/s1600/CSC_9446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTj40k58LxH9s2OW5b4umaLnZ33rJDXK0RB5rOKWY1uWjFm0yO9XtpETSL07FR2hcpAQ62z8O0MRGhYgRJLixrVtuFnKIEaNJwLLTTk866EFwR9bJaUPL6jVhex23T_KLWMf4nCdcoRDO/s400/CSC_9446.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plenty of natural beauty along the way, though<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVTDUEuPfAAmSFYe2FjnKgAi1jldUHjFzjYSyZ3A9vqomLIA6oXXpHDhKNou2083V6RL87TUkaUuh95UYB3OcGq0btKFXeIUEPZpHkZ1PDX384YI1oFk4silz-vgsBItucfeeMgyd7nap/s1600/CSC_9444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVTDUEuPfAAmSFYe2FjnKgAi1jldUHjFzjYSyZ3A9vqomLIA6oXXpHDhKNou2083V6RL87TUkaUuh95UYB3OcGq0btKFXeIUEPZpHkZ1PDX384YI1oFk4silz-vgsBItucfeeMgyd7nap/s400/CSC_9444.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Including a huemúl (way-MOOL), the endangered andean deer...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQD8jMohNIOwxMaUTZpqxv5gCxfefPhBJJut4iiqFmjrQWUbkF9bV-gnTLzZAL1LbyA2F1tpqFLa5cai0cF1JOU9rW8iRWSRiFONJT9WdadyAy3eM1ucYxLrDnZBQa6PsfxndRSOmzGWSb/s1600/CSC_9369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQD8jMohNIOwxMaUTZpqxv5gCxfefPhBJJut4iiqFmjrQWUbkF9bV-gnTLzZAL1LbyA2F1tpqFLa5cai0cF1JOU9rW8iRWSRiFONJT9WdadyAy3eM1ucYxLrDnZBQa6PsfxndRSOmzGWSb/s640/CSC_9369.JPG" width="472" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">...and a juvenile black-crowned night-heron which surprises us from its perch</span></td></tr>
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We've spent a lot of time along the Austral talking to cyclists from all over the world. When you see another traveler pedaling hard out here, it's hard not to stop and exchange a few stories. It's wonderful to see so many people enjoying and exploring.<br />
Best of luck and safe travels to you all!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9J_NxU4WAp4-0gglX-9V9yAIL8anZmHM3QniK7imfxZOgNAIH8niKUJZj3F1T8lvPngHXql6XSS2LuRbmp7b2-cQQG7AzqudEN24uuTURK0vfA9Vu_tHEogfPVwWg48b9efCd_RPN_uBQ/s1600/CSC_9239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9J_NxU4WAp4-0gglX-9V9yAIL8anZmHM3QniK7imfxZOgNAIH8niKUJZj3F1T8lvPngHXql6XSS2LuRbmp7b2-cQQG7AzqudEN24uuTURK0vfA9Vu_tHEogfPVwWg48b9efCd_RPN_uBQ/s640/CSC_9239.JPG" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A wonderfully old-fashioned, color-coordinated bicycle belonging to a friendly Chilean cyclist</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOaScNBH1kjUt8NWHJVoPeONG53UHtEyV8AP-QCyjr-tKoAWhDlbzoblJ0cJcrOlgmURDEnrO633ghXS-YwNvTCzQo-BHrJLQh4EnyNtiwmNDBFY8y4nkcJ2HyRyQ4kNgX4yQjiFSAcIZi/s1600/CSC_9240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOaScNBH1kjUt8NWHJVoPeONG53UHtEyV8AP-QCyjr-tKoAWhDlbzoblJ0cJcrOlgmURDEnrO633ghXS-YwNvTCzQo-BHrJLQh4EnyNtiwmNDBFY8y4nkcJ2HyRyQ4kNgX4yQjiFSAcIZi/s640/CSC_9240.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Complete with homemade panniers made from soy sauce cartons and decorated with Patagonia stickers, just in case you forget where you are</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKLBOt2746zN8FKjr1xz1z8D72lGa9tnX5AyhrukRX1VRz4yeGPK3yTOXNmjKSmdrP0Hsr4bLwxnLdlVBEkJILzM5pldPIbg5QmcV18dlpYfaFp5MS13-TqnS6mryoa2jTRlUkmwSVXUJ/s1600/CSC_9281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKLBOt2746zN8FKjr1xz1z8D72lGa9tnX5AyhrukRX1VRz4yeGPK3yTOXNmjKSmdrP0Hsr4bLwxnLdlVBEkJILzM5pldPIbg5QmcV18dlpYfaFp5MS13-TqnS6mryoa2jTRlUkmwSVXUJ/s400/CSC_9281.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">These Italian superheroes were traveling with two young children. Check out their journey at <a href="http://happyfamilybiocycling.com/">happyfamilybiocycling.com</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_SRRoCx7PaCksINJS0yd8Fo5LYX9uBj8rzjBmVDecMIKj-9az18i8bRO1TMJlsmwXqix5T2HOR7FiAuKBCGI8ygHfSDbBLgrb0Fr2KZ8RRrZL4E3QZnKBzcNYoZdQXND_41QMX3UM5VK/s1600/CSC_9282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_SRRoCx7PaCksINJS0yd8Fo5LYX9uBj8rzjBmVDecMIKj-9az18i8bRO1TMJlsmwXqix5T2HOR7FiAuKBCGI8ygHfSDbBLgrb0Fr2KZ8RRrZL4E3QZnKBzcNYoZdQXND_41QMX3UM5VK/s640/CSC_9282.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cyclist artwork at a roadside shelter</td></tr>
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Route Notes:<br />
<b>Coyhaique: </b>We stayed at the cheapest hospedaje, Aire Patagon, near Colon and Bilbao. For 9,000 per person including use of the kitchen and wi-fi, we were pleased. The friendly, homey atmosphere helps, too. Both of the camping places in/near town cost 5,000; we camped one night at Natti, a few blocks up Simpson from the Unimarc. Although it had a basic kitchen and wi-fi, the site was no more than the cramped front lawn, all the tents packed in as tightly as possible. When we were there a different lady was offering a basic room - just four walls, a roof, a floor, and a bathroom - for 5,000 pesos. Just after the Sodimac heading out of town, turn right on tiny Pasaje No. 8. Ask around at the third or fourth house (sorry, can´t remember which) on the right.<br />
There are three bike shops in Coyhaique. The largest and best-stocked is Figon, found a few blocks up Simpson from the Unimarc (past Hospedaje Natti). We heard from a few sources that their mechanics have a history of subpar work, so for that we went to Patagonia Cycles on Moraleda, a few blocks north of the plaza. Miguel, the owner and mechanic, is friendly and helpful. The third shop is at Cochrane and Freire and is little more than a workshop; they have weird work hours but have basic parts in stock and seemed nice enough when we stopped in.<br />
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<b>Coyhaique to Rio Tranquilo: </b>The road is paved to Villa Cerro Castillo. The 7 km hike from there up to the laguna was moderately difficult and somewhat boring, but the spectacular scenery at the top made it 100% worth it. Wouldn't try to bikepack it, nor the popular hiking trail that connects to it from Las Horquetas; very steep and sandy in most parts, and jumbles of boulders in others.<br />
After Villa Cerro Castillo was a 30 km construction zone that was closing the road completely from 1:30-6:30 Mon-Fri. We were able to avoid 20 km of it by taking the track that runs south of the main road between Laguna Alta and Laguna Verde. It's on OpenCycleMaps. The 4WD shortcut out of Villa Cerro Castillo clearly had not been used for a long time, and fences, four in total, had been built across it. The rest of the road involves horrendously bumpy surfaces and steep undulations, though the section near Laguna Alta is nice. Despite the difficulty, it was definitely more enjoyable than the narrow, trafficked construction zone on the carretera. The detour is all fenced until the descent back to the carretera, where some nice camp spots can be found.<br />
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<b>Cochrane to Villa O´Higgins: </b>The last stretch of road is more remote and scenic and improved after the Tortel junction. Three refugios: 1) 10 km before the turnoff to Tortel, pass a green bus stop and see a sign, "Acceso A Muelle." Take the gravel road on the right a few hundred meters to the river. We didn't see this one but it was recommended, apparently even has electricity. 2) 47 km after Rio Bravo, just after hitting the flats and circling a small lake, there's a yellow pole on the left about 6 feet high with a bike tire at the bottom. Follow the gravel back a few meters to find a tin-roofed hut with a wood stove, benches, and a table. 3) 21 km farther. See comments below for info on the third shelter.<br />
Puerto Yungay to Rio Bravo ferry is free, takes about an hour. December-March runs Yungay-Bravo at 10 am, 12 pm, and 6 pm. Bravo-Yungay at 11 am, 1 pm, and 7 pm.<br />
April-November runs Yungay-Bravo at 12 pm and 3 pm, other way at 1 pm and 4 pm.<br />
Both sides have a waiting room that can make provide shelter for the night. Yungay has electricity but no bathroom, Bravo has bathrooms but no electricity. At Puerto Yungay there is also a lady selling empanadas and other goodies.<br />
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<b>Villa O´Higgins Border Crossing: </b>Cochrane has wi-fi in the main plaza, and Villa O'Higgins has wi-fi and computers at the library. When we were in Villa O'Higgins, Robinson Crusoe was running the only tourist ferry once a week to Candelario Mancilla for 44,000 pesos. Asking around led us to Capitan Rafael "Toto" and his boat, the Soberania, a cargo ship that occasionally takes tourists. He charged 30,000. His business is run by Blanca and her mother, who live in the first red house behind the library. Capitan Lorenzo also occasionally takes tourists; his phone number is on the info board next to the tourist info kiosk in the plaza. Or just ask around. It's a very small town.<br />
In Villa O'Higgins it's possible to go just out of town and wild camp anywhere. The ferry leaves from Bahia Bahamondez, 7 km south of town. It's possible to wild camp at the port too.<br />
The Chilean carabineros border control is located 1 km south of Candelario Mancilla on the main (and only) road. The Argentine gendarmeria is at the north end of Lago del Desierto, and they allow camping there for free. The ferry on Lago del Desierto runs north-south at 11 am and 5 pm, and south-north at 10 am and 4 pm. It costs $30 if you pay in US dollars, or 480 Argentine pesos (equivalent to $33), or 30,000 Chilean pesos (equivalent to $42). Bikes are included in the passage or half price if sending just the bike and hiking the scenic 12 km trail; they'll unload it on the other side, where there is a gendarmeria post. We hike-a-biked, avoiding the boat altogether. Not worth it. It was quite a struggle, took us over five hours.</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10407730675071801678noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-39071593133339293732016-03-11T10:02:00.005-08:002016-03-11T10:03:34.788-08:0021 Months: Facts and Figures<div>
From Alaska to Patagonia, the numbers keep growing as the journey continues.<br />
<u> </u><br />
<u>Distance bicycled:</u> 17,085 miles (27,497 kilometers), approximately</div>
<u>National Parks visited:</u> 28, plus countless other types of reserves<br />
<u>Bird species positively identified:</u> 535<br />
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<u>Stamps from Argentina and Chile in our passports:</u> 37<br />
<u>Showers in the past month:</u> 4 each, not to mention plenty of brief dips in frigid rivers<br />
<u>Excitement level for the rest of Patagonia</u>: 100% <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam at Cerro Castillo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny enjoying Patagonia´s countless snowy peaks and turquoise rivers</td></tr>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-51372477157149100752016-03-01T11:47:00.000-08:002016-04-27T08:35:17.443-07:00Where No Bike Has Gone Before: A New Path Through Patagonia, February27th-29th<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Lago Verde-La Tapera</i></div>
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Used only by a handful of cattle ranchers, the track connecting the northern Patagonian hamlets of Lago Verde and La Tapera remained for centuries no more than a difficult horse track. In 2009 it was cleared and revitalized in efforts to create the country-traversing Sendero de Chile, and then in 2016 was given another facelift, connecting these two villages with a road for the first time. We were fortunate to be some of the first to traverse this new track, undoubtedly the first on bicycle; the 80 kilometers took us two days. Though rarely smooth and never easy, the rewards were ample: solitude, fantastic technical riding, and a challenge unlike anything else in the area.<br />
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We´ve divided the ride into nine sections, each distinct from the last in its own way. Distances are approximate, and rideable estimates are based on us: fit riders on light bikes, but not particularly strong technical riders.<br />
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<u>Section 1: Pastures and Forest</u>. About 18 km, 100% rideable, smooth dirt surfaces.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smooth two-track</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go ahead! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_O_bjnEAJbpp3weenyrET724CuIXxvSPgv75iBdYzSecEhUSt4EhdcqcfsUwU1vsgf_1eulQg8jwVNRiB6CVXkuRL-J1l6GQBityLqn7dJO055L_AF1oeW_T4dMalSf3uhF_bMFBp1s/s1600/CSC_8409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_O_bjnEAJbpp3weenyrET724CuIXxvSPgv75iBdYzSecEhUSt4EhdcqcfsUwU1vsgf_1eulQg8jwVNRiB6CVXkuRL-J1l6GQBityLqn7dJO055L_AF1oeW_T4dMalSf3uhF_bMFBp1s/s640/CSC_8409.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cows are coming! We obliged and quickly got off the road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRuMr7LEtt38-pX9lRGrUKl1xnE2rLe_Su23D2-gvC7rFP-bDwn4H-TPgn3iU9tFKMj_CCl43HLzdXg8FE8EjYFV0VcXvsaUUtPgFKQK-J7dWW6RzQhhktCq5z2MSStCqEEiNFvTzDCic/s1600/CSC_8427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRuMr7LEtt38-pX9lRGrUKl1xnE2rLe_Su23D2-gvC7rFP-bDwn4H-TPgn3iU9tFKMj_CCl43HLzdXg8FE8EjYFV0VcXvsaUUtPgFKQK-J7dWW6RzQhhktCq5z2MSStCqEEiNFvTzDCic/s640/CSC_8427.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crunchy leaf litter</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4VTYGosRN2cuhclkKl9VTHtX_YNabz7grco2Lgl8f6w06dgWnC8SZ1P1fXtknAvI8nX2YHOZ8Tplx3iMgk_gQDo3CfpcWMl_uLNX-c1AegpbATYoTlL-n4O7c-Jr5HOdxn9pDZ5s-uk/s1600/CSC_8434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz4VTYGosRN2cuhclkKl9VTHtX_YNabz7grco2Lgl8f6w06dgWnC8SZ1P1fXtknAvI8nX2YHOZ8Tplx3iMgk_gQDo3CfpcWMl_uLNX-c1AegpbATYoTlL-n4O7c-Jr5HOdxn9pDZ5s-uk/s640/CSC_8434.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doesn´t get much better than this<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSl-JonRC_Hnol3d-BZqg_isbZxbRituzIF1BTYFLDhQ2YTuIFfk92GIxrhRT8hzqyU2i7ZqEHHPMTW0x9AUVcKRNRoq9EFRSx0JHlC4A94YaCU3iaU2D2q7uni2pakdQpzzYjqdOGtYv/s1600/CSC_8444.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSl-JonRC_Hnol3d-BZqg_isbZxbRituzIF1BTYFLDhQ2YTuIFfk92GIxrhRT8hzqyU2i7ZqEHHPMTW0x9AUVcKRNRoq9EFRSx0JHlC4A94YaCU3iaU2D2q7uni2pakdQpzzYjqdOGtYv/s400/CSC_8444.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just in case you´re not sure what you´re doing</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>Section 2: Big Climb</u><b>. </b>About 4 km, 20% rideable. The surface is decent, but the sustained steep grades had us pushing for a while. Very muddy near the top.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9V13jmwk_K9_2xtp0mqsZ9qV1dTB4R9EGBsiB5FMdL1H4_2mm5kV-kuYR_k9-smB_D2f8-n3nkgLIaEwDZ18WwQoJK7Bxr9aCYcDNqsF1N0TXm9NYww9VAs5Lkxhc8TuCLVvfmml4Rx4/s1600/CSC_8657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9V13jmwk_K9_2xtp0mqsZ9qV1dTB4R9EGBsiB5FMdL1H4_2mm5kV-kuYR_k9-smB_D2f8-n3nkgLIaEwDZ18WwQoJK7Bxr9aCYcDNqsF1N0TXm9NYww9VAs5Lkxhc8TuCLVvfmml4Rx4/s640/CSC_8657.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slippy, slidy pushing</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjnRC7qYx4t9j1rAHE-B-3U6zR5Nh6yMjtLOkcg31OkR7O6ScUSXyiMHCO8KYKoS3DJuW-oNIh5btpT4Q5zXfhm6BL1hJYLVcVMM0VnGIx7tEPosldj__kU6QGjy6_0Qf7_fMLoOYGnyg/s1600/CSC_8656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjnRC7qYx4t9j1rAHE-B-3U6zR5Nh6yMjtLOkcg31OkR7O6ScUSXyiMHCO8KYKoS3DJuW-oNIh5btpT4Q5zXfhm6BL1hJYLVcVMM0VnGIx7tEPosldj__kU6QGjy6_0Qf7_fMLoOYGnyg/s640/CSC_8656.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little guy, a chucao tapaculo, was very curious about these strange visitors to its forest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLR87qRnbLjg1hcAVpzAt9YZ23u__nXzjG2pTQOw83nFYhNWazk9uE6vjm6984pxPMazi4CiHHVNyQTlgKRGC49hU6VO2skW1ml6PO0QhJtt-l-5xEqVail8L41U-ll-A4fSqfJiv1zG0/s1600/CSC_8439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLR87qRnbLjg1hcAVpzAt9YZ23u__nXzjG2pTQOw83nFYhNWazk9uE6vjm6984pxPMazi4CiHHVNyQTlgKRGC49hU6VO2skW1ml6PO0QhJtt-l-5xEqVail8L41U-ll-A4fSqfJiv1zG0/s640/CSC_8439.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fact of life when cycling: flat tires. We got 15 patches out of this tube before the valve broke.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>Section 3: Descent.</u><b> </b>About 6 km, 95% rideable. Undulate in more mud before descending steeply to follow a clear, bubbling river through serene old-growth forest.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTf7qQD-PLmUQKnAH64lH7NEqkaHJT2Zpwlz4cjIQeRALxxJ-TPwGdKbVSiMISRhnrJS_05phVveig6hcCF0zOnc_3negPGcyX_coqtRxDYHRxgpFIR6R76YpaFGoCdhreL1j6e_1_ocI/s1600/CSC_8660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTf7qQD-PLmUQKnAH64lH7NEqkaHJT2Zpwlz4cjIQeRALxxJ-TPwGdKbVSiMISRhnrJS_05phVveig6hcCF0zOnc_3negPGcyX_coqtRxDYHRxgpFIR6R76YpaFGoCdhreL1j6e_1_ocI/s640/CSC_8660.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steeeeeep</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
<u>Section 4: Ascent. </u>About 5 km, 5% rideable. Climb away from the river. Very steep and muddy.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzilEWafc_Q9FTbvKPbANU9aFdagBlhEe9OXvte4QlQIpLO2fwCtJgqMWocvF4v6_Kj2tVkcojo-thCkZTRfFEvvvfMZXGal7FR3IZSA4RWa9H6VIzKBoBUSynGi8IwCI2sFc8n3GlsvU/s1600/CSC_8672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzilEWafc_Q9FTbvKPbANU9aFdagBlhEe9OXvte4QlQIpLO2fwCtJgqMWocvF4v6_Kj2tVkcojo-thCkZTRfFEvvvfMZXGal7FR3IZSA4RWa9H6VIzKBoBUSynGi8IwCI2sFc8n3GlsvU/s640/CSC_8672.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top? Please...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOB3XGZp-fTvzE36fUFlnIxbQay1QZwpqm4yv0_TfAaL3w9SfVQEWc1iL-DKW5SuDVeQ4jkwp73NeyJPOF7L7FtJa4RmIDlv7mQJayCo2pCaQiHiZ8NPCMpwQzB_OYRFe6IgqqezzCzrQ/s1600/CSC_8663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOB3XGZp-fTvzE36fUFlnIxbQay1QZwpqm4yv0_TfAaL3w9SfVQEWc1iL-DKW5SuDVeQ4jkwp73NeyJPOF7L7FtJa4RmIDlv7mQJayCo2pCaQiHiZ8NPCMpwQzB_OYRFe6IgqqezzCzrQ/s640/CSC_8663.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There´s a bike under all that mud</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>Section 5: Meadows, Forest, Rivers.</u><b> </b>About 15 km, 99% rideable, all except some muddy sections near the top. Gradually wind through scenic alpine lakes and meadows before descending in a shady forest to a river. Follow it for several kilometers, crossing it numerous times.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvqAl3NwKQqNtQf5yfhxIqBVW7InOvT-uuKQlDN6IyxFTVVFz-PKrJwDeGCIZHuCn9eUUUak8qiuMron2weZcieHdUuKuOv8NkDbFpLZt5N_6NK2_X487xEl30ZLrVK0ohgOlXSwT5_s/s1600/CSC_8674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvqAl3NwKQqNtQf5yfhxIqBVW7InOvT-uuKQlDN6IyxFTVVFz-PKrJwDeGCIZHuCn9eUUUak8qiuMron2weZcieHdUuKuOv8NkDbFpLZt5N_6NK2_X487xEl30ZLrVK0ohgOlXSwT5_s/s640/CSC_8674.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Chilean flag at the top of the climb. Part in of this route is technically in Argentina, though all the Chileans we talked to claimed the land belongs to them. No one seems to care enough to dispute it, because no one lives there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcxUmKZdtAgV3Kma_tA83Mdq4wZ63XCJ6rsxLol2giCdbM0T3A5VDP0h5uulPoYvPu3s4He04cH3FCuVyapulREUi8RdncUd6AH1NOZvq9GkE44qSe9wCH6LqvU8l2S-_4DxUF5rilJ4/s1600/CSC_8685.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcxUmKZdtAgV3Kma_tA83Mdq4wZ63XCJ6rsxLol2giCdbM0T3A5VDP0h5uulPoYvPu3s4He04cH3FCuVyapulREUi8RdncUd6AH1NOZvq9GkE44qSe9wCH6LqvU8l2S-_4DxUF5rilJ4/s640/CSC_8685.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colorful peak</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0EL5EpyyljZYyP6yT9xl8QG1YG2it_pvdXrlWYKovmLMrOv3lDWYiYYYc7xzstX4FnpI6RD2XRIkXoDNZKIpqvJNEMT-iznGakoUtKKrehRURsy4PbxNcJzXOFnL7yZE21wwONiJ1_Ow/s1600/CSC_8675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0EL5EpyyljZYyP6yT9xl8QG1YG2it_pvdXrlWYKovmLMrOv3lDWYiYYYc7xzstX4FnpI6RD2XRIkXoDNZKIpqvJNEMT-iznGakoUtKKrehRURsy4PbxNcJzXOFnL7yZE21wwONiJ1_Ow/s640/CSC_8675.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roughly half of my memory card is just photos of this mountain</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-DjYoAVbogL2wF_giOh_QV_h0RFrB3oPXAu5W6aqT6gggWrnTQ0wDsq1P5eFsMhi9QAP0ImzUZ-LmhwXzWJJ2SxGEZ48L0VyRlXRDBO0Md9kcegCY_G86JnLp-Y0w_vn3MpuGGLOiCg/s1600/CSC_8728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK-DjYoAVbogL2wF_giOh_QV_h0RFrB3oPXAu5W6aqT6gggWrnTQ0wDsq1P5eFsMhi9QAP0ImzUZ-LmhwXzWJJ2SxGEZ48L0VyRlXRDBO0Md9kcegCY_G86JnLp-Y0w_vn3MpuGGLOiCg/s640/CSC_8728.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grassy tracks and scenery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZEAt_1rWDJM2XQd9ZyidrHxapkQ39uBQC1ivp-VAP1bWMDQMq0caLZfrxAzIvryL16LZqSnswa06uXkwjdw9iwRK0Ntep9qhoDlC8w2NWnqQOWb9hEzxzic8HZDhBa2GKs6IRa-rcOo/s1600/CSC_8688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZEAt_1rWDJM2XQd9ZyidrHxapkQ39uBQC1ivp-VAP1bWMDQMq0caLZfrxAzIvryL16LZqSnswa06uXkwjdw9iwRK0Ntep9qhoDlC8w2NWnqQOWb9hEzxzic8HZDhBa2GKs6IRa-rcOo/s640/CSC_8688.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perfect</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>Section 6: Open Country.</u><b> </b>About 4 km, 99% rideable, all except some steep uphills. Mud becomes sand as the trail climbs from the river over a small hill. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23Qrs3LdgiTbViS6bIgDOnAhmS5Ha7PSmbILiM2Q4ixukU8xnHxAptVJ7-KbVV0X9WqyYSrbwQN3kpAxWBO-ZUqKQD6_ORSq-CuaAtOAWclMCZ4vgys6Sx6ctoVi8b44jSTAYZ0SmCAY/s1600/CSC_8690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh23Qrs3LdgiTbViS6bIgDOnAhmS5Ha7PSmbILiM2Q4ixukU8xnHxAptVJ7-KbVV0X9WqyYSrbwQN3kpAxWBO-ZUqKQD6_ORSq-CuaAtOAWclMCZ4vgys6Sx6ctoVi8b44jSTAYZ0SmCAY/s640/CSC_8690.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadfall litters the suddenly dry landscape</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<u>Section 7: Rio Caceres.</u><b> </b>About 10 km, 99% rideable, all except the very steep ascent after the river. The river is wide but also very shallow, an easy crossing. Sandy flats bring you to the foot of the last big climb.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-Ci6zgzUfRvc4Flaz-_3VibHavuCU-7pWx9sUuBnSveFJYpFv0dm22_UCW7ffuDRC1baQ4LGgFhgQNjpQmjzk4qxpK2wwo9hswaGQIMZAyLsStWnoobT8423Wg0wjasVXQ2rB4iHfSs/s1600/CSC_8691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-Ci6zgzUfRvc4Flaz-_3VibHavuCU-7pWx9sUuBnSveFJYpFv0dm22_UCW7ffuDRC1baQ4LGgFhgQNjpQmjzk4qxpK2wwo9hswaGQIMZAyLsStWnoobT8423Wg0wjasVXQ2rB4iHfSs/s640/CSC_8691.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenic descent</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqIzHpmDlqaxOwbPgZGLBISv9HP3Akpk58qmBscvWBqXD2EHromEYJ43WqEcZG1EE98OfPQ_pLvQmeJ5uOacInNiZA-Oi3r3JoghMo-OcbYiBAVqVR_w803SNNCuceDa7Q_hPRxKdU8g/s1600/CSC_8700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqIzHpmDlqaxOwbPgZGLBISv9HP3Akpk58qmBscvWBqXD2EHromEYJ43WqEcZG1EE98OfPQ_pLvQmeJ5uOacInNiZA-Oi3r3JoghMo-OcbYiBAVqVR_w803SNNCuceDa7Q_hPRxKdU8g/s640/CSC_8700.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watch out for traffic</td></tr>
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<div>
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<div>
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<div>
<u>Section 8: Out of Breath. </u>About 4 km, 80% rideable. After the first sunny push, the trail enters a shady forest. The steep ups require frequent breaks but are definitely rideable.</div>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-59B0Qe9jd0j1LlXXalll4ri_ETuUdTwW1sZiwvIgNG2Pc__5YDe6Po4ZWhK-e23JKgDMu1TcWVvWD-uQIA956RpfzWnzXI_5nKvMEOa7g_NwborgzFIC4TdMWl9L1jlq_FU4d507zIY/s1600/CSC_8701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-59B0Qe9jd0j1LlXXalll4ri_ETuUdTwW1sZiwvIgNG2Pc__5YDe6Po4ZWhK-e23JKgDMu1TcWVvWD-uQIA956RpfzWnzXI_5nKvMEOa7g_NwborgzFIC4TdMWl9L1jlq_FU4d507zIY/s640/CSC_8701.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reaching the top, my bike deserves a rest...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEiW8ACc33O_Lr9MTvTfX6GC3OFav53dyWB7GQ7nq5XYWNubr6af4UwZwQApzSysh6QFCHm5k_-OwjV9n_UYfjeYPd7zZTFWLPjmT6tMzHViykLZDTwjlIyVYEae0UbgJN3fSgwx-74jM/s1600/CSC_8702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEiW8ACc33O_Lr9MTvTfX6GC3OFav53dyWB7GQ7nq5XYWNubr6af4UwZwQApzSysh6QFCHm5k_-OwjV9n_UYfjeYPd7zZTFWLPjmT6tMzHViykLZDTwjlIyVYEae0UbgJN3fSgwx-74jM/s640/CSC_8702.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and we take a break to inhale some of our favorite cookies!</td></tr>
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<div>
<u>Section 9: A Final Adventure.</u><b> </b>About 11 km, 99% rideable, all except for a few hundred meters of exceptionally steep, rocky descent. Follow the track through forest and pastures to the town of La Tapera, crossing the Rio Cisnes just before reaching the town. The river is wide and shallow, but swift.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MoaHE0UwW33AmEkBEe1SJzohq-61FLQHuf4aaxwmIMbnD4tYotr4RfwqDJnKBx06XP3MQnH6EZo7zfiHY8AfXQuuAG7bbO9snXMd8P9d0GjCCbQTGdRfmirwo5f6eu2HjtPyS_kSCjY/s1600/CSC_8714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MoaHE0UwW33AmEkBEe1SJzohq-61FLQHuf4aaxwmIMbnD4tYotr4RfwqDJnKBx06XP3MQnH6EZo7zfiHY8AfXQuuAG7bbO9snXMd8P9d0GjCCbQTGdRfmirwo5f6eu2HjtPyS_kSCjY/s640/CSC_8714.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain biking at its best.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKg9uZ9WQuM2Sr_rfmdC1yCH-rsdJpodvgoh6HmmaL5nVNvMJ7N2mCLW5NkYMV6HXDMUNEYfjYK4rMOnrZj5cnFJsLO1MYLOEmznIomwo0Vl_UmFA35OgXDh2ox7fzFbsriQZpsdjhgO0/s1600/CSC_8716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKg9uZ9WQuM2Sr_rfmdC1yCH-rsdJpodvgoh6HmmaL5nVNvMJ7N2mCLW5NkYMV6HXDMUNEYfjYK4rMOnrZj5cnFJsLO1MYLOEmznIomwo0Vl_UmFA35OgXDh2ox7fzFbsriQZpsdjhgO0/s640/CSC_8716.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It´s possible to push the bike until the current begins to drag it away. Then, hold on tight.</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
<b>Stats</b><br />
Distance traveled: 80.95 kilometers (starting a few kilometers from Lago Verde and including a few side tracks we temporarily got lost on)<br />
Moving time: 11 hours, 56 minutes<br />
Ascent: 2,360 meters<br />
Min/Max Altitude: 350/1234 meters<br />
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<b>Considerations:</b><br />
- If coming from Argentina, you´ll have to descend about 200 meters over 4 kilometers to the town of Lago Verde, stamp in at the <i>carabineros</i> (first building on the right), then turn around and head back uphill. The entrance is about 500 meters from the border. It´s also possible to take an old horse track from town and meet up with the road about 6 km later. This track also looked transitable by bicycle, at least where we met up with it. Download the GPS file for Section 22 of the Greater Patagonian Trail for that trail, which mostly shares and sometimes parallels this road.<br />
- We took just over two full days of riding, but plan for more, as the terrain is difficult and help would be very far away. Food is available in Lago Verde and La Tapera.<br />
- Wild camping is available almost anywhere en route.<br />
- Water is found frequently, including during the big climbs. We never carried more than three liters each, and I don´t believe we ever used it all before coming to our next source.<br />
- The mud in sections 2 and 3 was definitely exacerbated by weeks of rain before we arrived, but expect mud always in those areas, even if it would be slightly better at dry times. During winter and spring, this track may even be impassable on foot or bike due to exceedingly wet, muddy conditions and high rivers.<br />
- If you´re going the other way, more of the track would probably be rideable due to longer, more gradual ascents and steep, brake-killing descents.<br />
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</div>
<div>
<b>Route-Finding Details:</b><br />
GPS track<a href="https://www.dropbox.com/s/qpgfajqb1faocnl/Lago%20Verde-La%20Tapera.gpx?dl=0" target="_blank"> here</a>.<br />
There are lots of unsigned forks near both ends of the route, so a GPS would be best. If no GPS, here are the turns:<br />
- Immediately after turning south onto this route, take an immediate left through a gate. The newly cleared right track also meets up later, but it was blocked by a fence when we passed.<br />
- About 50 meters later, stay straight.<br />
- A few kilometers later, stay right.<br />
- Pass through some gates, and after a few more kilometers, stay left. This junction is just after a gate and there´s a sign on a tree that says ¨Excursion.¨<br />
- About 15 km later, after descending to and climbing away from a river, stay left. </div>
<div>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-69605114045192906352016-03-01T11:45:00.003-08:002016-04-27T08:35:47.573-07:00Biking to the Pot of Gold: A Detour to Argentina. February 22nd-26th<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Villa Santa Lucia-Palena-Corcovado (Argentina)-Atilio Viglione-Lago Verde (Chile)</i></div>
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We have several cycling blogs that we follow to get ideas for interesting routes, and one of our favorites (<a href="http://velofreedom.bike/" target="_blank">velofreedom</a>) gave us the idea to take a horseshoe-shaped detour out to Argentina before meeting up with the Carretera Austral farther south. Our thought was that this would bring us to less traveled, sunnier roads (in much drier Argentina), and would give us a chance to scout out some interesting trails. Here's what happened...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgeJXnyhZcS85DRhZs4PifziZ-PIkDnjZ9LnKRCHi5TzxtliA2vZQSlUu5WN9NlpLgZoKCcTEv7W64u80UOrF9gZCthMRuDDvqL5fgmSPPyDK2un6qjTP9IwvzuGTHsQfSr5I-7YZ_9cG/s1600/CSC_8298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzgeJXnyhZcS85DRhZs4PifziZ-PIkDnjZ9LnKRCHi5TzxtliA2vZQSlUu5WN9NlpLgZoKCcTEv7W64u80UOrF9gZCthMRuDDvqL5fgmSPPyDK2un6qjTP9IwvzuGTHsQfSr5I-7YZ_9cG/s640/CSC_8298.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From rainforest and dreary skies in Chile...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7ty1juiq53bDMYQwIDifxSl8ouiF3vAjI8yGRCoELJhF9Dv_nFyrKdan9pOL3mLfoUTicTLMh3bD6jpGTtxmwN3CuOjyvReQ9roKU6_0zhs_7-dnAbnYg6Uc8rYfHN-Av0a8AZHCThbd/s1600/CSC_8205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF7ty1juiq53bDMYQwIDifxSl8ouiF3vAjI8yGRCoELJhF9Dv_nFyrKdan9pOL3mLfoUTicTLMh3bD6jpGTtxmwN3CuOjyvReQ9roKU6_0zhs_7-dnAbnYg6Uc8rYfHN-Av0a8AZHCThbd/s640/CSC_8205.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...to open pastures and sunny skies in Argentina.</td></tr>
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Our detour starts with a nasty, washboardy gravel road. Happily, there's some nice scenery to distract from the pain in my butt. Sunshine, glacial lakes, waterfalls, and the great Futaleufu River. It kills me to pass this internationally famous whitewater destination, but going kayaking or rafting out here is way over our budget for the moment.<br />
<br />
The first trail we are considering taking leaves from the town of Palena and leads to the town of Lago Verde. We know that, years ago, this track was frequently used to herd cattle between the two places, but now who knows what state it´s in. Our quest for current information begins by asking a guy who we pass on horseback; perhaps he has ridden some of the trails in the area? He tells us to stop a green truck that will apparently be passing us in 5 minutes or so, and ask them. We do that, and though the people in the truck quite possibly think we're crazy, they direct us to the yellow house on the end of town where we get some good info. Unfortunately, things do not look promising. With the construction on good highways, cattle are now moved between places via truck, and the trail is overgrown, steep, rocky, and tough to follow. When the lady at tourist info in Palena confirms this info the following day, we decide not to do it. On foot it would be a great adventure; with bikes, it sounds like it would be a sufferfest. Second best option: we're going to Argentina!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ymkw6fthkqkda7btq55Nc6LNoIEMbEb15e1EzSOr89bEY7Zb4n83qo30pTFz6tLNmJA2VslorKeUYIk4Okw8UbAl5KrE_7NwOlvOoaJseC-_zqwwMyT3JbcAkDgG_G9hADLNKY9-SILl/s1600/CSC_8201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ymkw6fthkqkda7btq55Nc6LNoIEMbEb15e1EzSOr89bEY7Zb4n83qo30pTFz6tLNmJA2VslorKeUYIk4Okw8UbAl5KrE_7NwOlvOoaJseC-_zqwwMyT3JbcAkDgG_G9hADLNKY9-SILl/s640/CSC_8201.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Chilean landscape overtaking this small house near Palena</td></tr>
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Some friendly border officials and sunshine welcome us back to one of our favorite countries. As we stop to admire a river flowing through a big gorge, several young, local guys approach us. One is wearing a wetsuit and a GoPro. He's gonna jump from the bridge! Before the jump, he and his friends pass around a drink. In the US, this situation might call for a beer or a Red Bull. In Argentina? A cup of mate. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrqxsERwiIXSDcvBKkvg2fo45bdJQeF30qQlIRbA43dUrsm1rbGtJ6MzxQM7Kt8mxQsZ6RCapgfd2nQJ0MKq5FX0jLmCVJ1lEunh0CAC9HHN-MCrqf1vxEyAF2SzvNcQMzqVzmtK2E1FP/s1600/CSC_8204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrqxsERwiIXSDcvBKkvg2fo45bdJQeF30qQlIRbA43dUrsm1rbGtJ6MzxQM7Kt8mxQsZ6RCapgfd2nQJ0MKq5FX0jLmCVJ1lEunh0CAC9HHN-MCrqf1vxEyAF2SzvNcQMzqVzmtK2E1FP/s640/CSC_8204.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And... he jumps!</td></tr>
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The road continues to be in awful condition, but at least there is very little traffic, and we have nice scenery to distract us. Red-streaked mountains, sandy soil and windy remoteness all remind me of the northern expanse of this country, but trees, shade, and frequent water sources are a welcome difference. Late in the day we come upon an enormous, wild lake. On the side opposite from us, jagged peaks cradle glaciers that waterfall into the deep blue depths. Wind whips the too-blue water into frothy whitecaps and sweeps it up onto the sandy shore that our tires are grinding across. Fighting to ride through the gale, I feel like the water wants to rise up and swallow me. Hello, Patagonia!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoX8tHdtdXK-7JsrVU6evglZZdmUaYm0G9osGywpALZAuKI1-8laubAIoqfigRG8a3VIMSHymeR5BJoMUjQn27ku1aCwkriwk2ZF7qlp7o9ldCs82oX3c4zVoPvdEgQSNkgBdvBzkHsxJB/s1600/CSC_8207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoX8tHdtdXK-7JsrVU6evglZZdmUaYm0G9osGywpALZAuKI1-8laubAIoqfigRG8a3VIMSHymeR5BJoMUjQn27ku1aCwkriwk2ZF7qlp7o9ldCs82oX3c4zVoPvdEgQSNkgBdvBzkHsxJB/s640/CSC_8207.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful blues</td></tr>
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The next morning dawns with considerably less wind and a gorgeous rainbow. The colorful ribbon seems to end just ahead of us along our road. Let's bike to the pot of gold!<br />
Unfortunately our rainbow fades, and as we turn east back towards Chile a frigid headwind picks up, spitting rain into our faces. We put our heads down and ride to stay warm.<br />
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Things are considerably improved by the town of Dr. Atilio Viglione. Not expecting to find anything here, we are pleasantly surprised to meet a wonderful old lady with a well-stocked shop that happens to have our favorite brand of Argentinian cookies. Score!<br />
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Some riding on quiet forested roads brings us to the <i>Gendarmeria</i> where we're happy to go inside to have our passports stamped and to get out of the rain. Turns out that the officials at this immigration complex are super nice and want to do everything they can to help us out. Soon we are camped in a covered area shielded from the wind and enjoying a hot dinner made with water brought out to us in a thermos. What a wonderful end to a tough day.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvKlfkvriwoZk1XtWDoWDxHrS2XcKU-lZ7CDXX7iUw70-c2Y-1Ma5_vpTRRNgjlRQhE-aRG5kfpsxydPQniU_csKyMg55h89aoEkpHlCbR-zxFhtCS5xedGGIt05i2FEeAU6KRoTLc3RD/s1600/CSC_8441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglvKlfkvriwoZk1XtWDoWDxHrS2XcKU-lZ7CDXX7iUw70-c2Y-1Ma5_vpTRRNgjlRQhE-aRG5kfpsxydPQniU_csKyMg55h89aoEkpHlCbR-zxFhtCS5xedGGIt05i2FEeAU6KRoTLc3RD/s640/CSC_8441.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The picturesque <i>gendarmeria</i> building</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBCTtzS5GVnXTstZ7ajEOCs22dFKgBNwxOn3ovmZX0SoS4kxsZNoji6lAr4f2w2X7_yBZuhzIqHHa0MtJVn2lYCIu-a-FzRLSJuosOExdYzcqrxxk77rM4yvrLSJUGWDcXvPMZn90BlFD/s1600/CSC_8248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBCTtzS5GVnXTstZ7ajEOCs22dFKgBNwxOn3ovmZX0SoS4kxsZNoji6lAr4f2w2X7_yBZuhzIqHHa0MtJVn2lYCIu-a-FzRLSJuosOExdYzcqrxxk77rM4yvrLSJUGWDcXvPMZn90BlFD/s640/CSC_8248.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camped in the woodshed</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJUwgb8mjvIfYRqATMPPgiqc46QbhAePEt8h0CgRWC0DiU4T9MSC7EeZn0pRuOg_Ob93n2RkE2ssD8OB-OK2-dNjxTYk2Og5HVzkQwJG52JdLbzb0xcNIfpgNzL6gopho21MD9eqo4Web/s1600/CSC_8247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJUwgb8mjvIfYRqATMPPgiqc46QbhAePEt8h0CgRWC0DiU4T9MSC7EeZn0pRuOg_Ob93n2RkE2ssD8OB-OK2-dNjxTYk2Og5HVzkQwJG52JdLbzb0xcNIfpgNzL6gopho21MD9eqo4Web/s640/CSC_8247.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helping the day end even better! Our copy of this book has been through almost as much as Mark Watney.</td></tr>
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The next morning dawns with another rainbow. We set off, warm and dry and in high spirits, because this isn't any normal border crossing: it's a 4x4 track with several challenging river crossings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFIGn8wjUr1MgLCuyTuOk2lQR-HHzGMj8JisOTkLjtKKWejzpak-FUQ24MnAPBLaZhJG9wION3cWc04zQxtOwrkde7hmzNvXFd4Rtb5xu5vtWCDh5fNYpAdULrxRPQB_FHNSDbduZPGz5/s1600/CSC_8289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFIGn8wjUr1MgLCuyTuOk2lQR-HHzGMj8JisOTkLjtKKWejzpak-FUQ24MnAPBLaZhJG9wION3cWc04zQxtOwrkde7hmzNvXFd4Rtb5xu5vtWCDh5fNYpAdULrxRPQB_FHNSDbduZPGz5/s640/CSC_8289.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding some riverbed gravel</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyeMmUelrqoNk-T4VRCsqH_N1GqPq2gdCcQ9i6k5RNVOfNvS-_Ixmabyl1w-uoiTnvCZGPaYcvTRfgmdOxHdoooLBQyjwyx4CPfMvnH_2ohvD5k9lMng7vOzPKCWr3ww8r-dUbOHpr2u6/s1600/CSC_8406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLyeMmUelrqoNk-T4VRCsqH_N1GqPq2gdCcQ9i6k5RNVOfNvS-_Ixmabyl1w-uoiTnvCZGPaYcvTRfgmdOxHdoooLBQyjwyx4CPfMvnH_2ohvD5k9lMng7vOzPKCWr3ww8r-dUbOHpr2u6/s640/CSC_8406.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam using her improvised carry method to cross the Rio Pico</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUf5Zaz1GmavVWpB97-8ccbZeL7hMONcvYYNktPQCdWcfl8mFDS_mlh8Ra2CmEX4761uocjSvl0kP5ryCMxyPgATmhNI-L-dgSulnLxh0pymrUZ1wy7EeoyAXcjopK5rjdXzrMGgNJm88Q/s1600/CSC_8446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUf5Zaz1GmavVWpB97-8ccbZeL7hMONcvYYNktPQCdWcfl8mFDS_mlh8Ra2CmEX4761uocjSvl0kP5ryCMxyPgATmhNI-L-dgSulnLxh0pymrUZ1wy7EeoyAXcjopK5rjdXzrMGgNJm88Q/s640/CSC_8446.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wish all international borders were like this one!</td></tr>
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When we arrive in Lago Verde we are stamped in by the c<i>arabineros</i> of Chile and start asking around for information on the next section of trail we are hoping to explore. This track runs from Lago Verde to La Tapera and would cut out a significant amount of distance for us. Turns out that we're in luck! The next blog post has all the details.</div>
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Route Notes:</div>
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The Argentine <i>ripio </i>is generally in relatively poor condition with lots of washboardy gravel. No water from Lago Palena almost all the way to Atilio Viglione except for one little irrigation ditch that may dry up at times. Also be aware of the river crossings that may become more challenging in wetter seasons. For more info on this route, see <a href="http://velofreedom.bike/2015/03/16/operation-austral-avoidance-pt-1-paso-las-pampas/" target="_blank">here.</a></div>
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We were unable to follow Nathan´s route notes (on the link above) from Atilio Viglione to the gendarmeria. Ask locals for the current location of the bridge, and then stay on the ¨main¨ road - there´s a lot of fun two-track around there, but we got a bit lost trying to figure out where it all went.</div>
Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-42602008358799007302016-03-01T11:43:00.002-08:002016-04-27T08:37:23.559-07:00It´s Raining Cyclists: The Northern Carretera Austral. February 17th-21st<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Puerto Montt-Hornopiren-Caleta Gonzalo-Chaitén-Puerto Cárdenas-Villa Santa Lucia</i></div>
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We first heard about the Carretera Austral in Canada, when someone told us that it was like the Icefields Parkway through Jasper and Banff, except far longer. It's been in our minds since then, and it's hard to believe that now we are actually here. The road was built under Pinochet in the 1970s in an effort to connect the isolated small towns of southern Chile, and it now has become known to backpackers, cyclists, and other travelers as one of the most scenic routes in the world. Below is the story of our ride through the northern section.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArn8fzhldzE2eO_AClxwSFsDULaa_YvXfweKLh7WZHbh-QvZ1tpUjidiZHl-3ISEmDlGd33Y14l5mZS6USGCpTOPZ6O-pndQ1hOlpH7hP1qmw4mfEFmGT2BJjwnFnjEBgtZmODIqF3bNM/s1600/CSC_8140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiArn8fzhldzE2eO_AClxwSFsDULaa_YvXfweKLh7WZHbh-QvZ1tpUjidiZHl-3ISEmDlGd33Y14l5mZS6USGCpTOPZ6O-pndQ1hOlpH7hP1qmw4mfEFmGT2BJjwnFnjEBgtZmODIqF3bNM/s640/CSC_8140.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The northern Carretera Austral, surrounded by greenery</td></tr>
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There are plenty of small towns along the route but we know that the Puerto Varas - Puerto Montt area would be our last chance for a while to tune up bikes, do some shopping, and cook up some healthful delicious food. None of this would have been possible without our warmshowers hosts Lucas, Paloma, and Gabriela. So many thanks to you all!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yUS-QxjcMATZab7mXNLIC9qq6Vv1DqIsZ27iu-JSTOJbl_kY3J8USKwkUSwA4mYPGWpjA2cY3zEOALj9B3-C0g0A5-78kkK8rLX1i_tKQQsliFji89j0rhRjzExdOAhADXw8vZ6CCAox/s1600/CSC_8101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4yUS-QxjcMATZab7mXNLIC9qq6Vv1DqIsZ27iu-JSTOJbl_kY3J8USKwkUSwA4mYPGWpjA2cY3zEOALj9B3-C0g0A5-78kkK8rLX1i_tKQQsliFji89j0rhRjzExdOAhADXw8vZ6CCAox/s640/CSC_8101.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally, from the streets of Puerto Varas, we see Volcan Osorno! We were up there...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MssGlRRNytCas23qEpdVmJTBnR9eF0TlSzrdAQLryd0wMK3Gwc3VwgKBEfQlM_QB02IvsO7Tg6ZXEdr_USajlY16sgvKp6fTc2AE1bw-FPLOTmU_NnDkh3PuAAT2xozBrZ2pneb2D1kD/s1600/CSC_8100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MssGlRRNytCas23qEpdVmJTBnR9eF0TlSzrdAQLryd0wMK3Gwc3VwgKBEfQlM_QB02IvsO7Tg6ZXEdr_USajlY16sgvKp6fTc2AE1bw-FPLOTmU_NnDkh3PuAAT2xozBrZ2pneb2D1kD/s640/CSC_8100.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some hilarious graffiti around the city</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqE6GesEVkeHCO-zTkaPvHF9ZUXVM4t6mDrEO4sRKsKgyjlxiNvsCrdwiIrdiYN-WmTP2ITvpputt1otIJYrjPhJGjIYVaG6AijCLW_xn4bayMQyldO7k48iedj4Ez2eCVhd0_Bv5RCr-P/s1600/CSC_8111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqE6GesEVkeHCO-zTkaPvHF9ZUXVM4t6mDrEO4sRKsKgyjlxiNvsCrdwiIrdiYN-WmTP2ITvpputt1otIJYrjPhJGjIYVaG6AijCLW_xn4bayMQyldO7k48iedj4Ez2eCVhd0_Bv5RCr-P/s640/CSC_8111.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our gear getting some waterproofing. Here we´re painting Chris´s gloves with a mix of silicone and turpentine...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0m9-asZERcNOdg4_uXsJFaF8FY6_Ca5rjdmnHEL8hJFOyAVMywtsOXK9tdcCUfaGYEmqy7AfbaX4mbXJvplcR6Vi6dgtwU9vkKfKGFUeaSXlZSZ6fB1ww7zTtYqxvwKHNAHQs-1je1O1I/s1600/CSC_8109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0m9-asZERcNOdg4_uXsJFaF8FY6_Ca5rjdmnHEL8hJFOyAVMywtsOXK9tdcCUfaGYEmqy7AfbaX4mbXJvplcR6Vi6dgtwU9vkKfKGFUeaSXlZSZ6fB1ww7zTtYqxvwKHNAHQs-1je1O1I/s640/CSC_8109.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and later we apply a similar mixture to the seams of our tent. Fortunately it later rains, offering a chance to test out our DIY handiwork.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOfUTMIqZndS3wfae8SbvmZ8iwkPvdw2gtOxIl0-lY92Js-L_a5hcZm0jKyhAA777Vuiukky6tKn9zLK7_F_mIQ9MEcg3KNUS4VE6Zb1Ub3GfApFo8ZzjHO_0iw3jXVVZgwshjaXtqana/s1600/CSC_8110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOfUTMIqZndS3wfae8SbvmZ8iwkPvdw2gtOxIl0-lY92Js-L_a5hcZm0jKyhAA777Vuiukky6tKn9zLK7_F_mIQ9MEcg3KNUS4VE6Zb1Ub3GfApFo8ZzjHO_0iw3jXVVZgwshjaXtqana/s640/CSC_8110.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some colorful landscaping in Puerto Varas</td></tr>
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Our travel guide describes Puerto Montt as a city with many exit points, whether it be by bus, bike, or boat. Our big exit will be along the Carretera Austral, which officially starts here.<br />
Unfortunately, the only way to get there is to take the main highway south from Puerto Varas. Yes, there's another road but apparently that road has even more traffic (because there's no toll) and no shoulder. So, the day begins with us racing alongside great tractor trailers and other speeding traffic as we all rush to reach Puerto Montt as quickly as possible.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMayBKoNlGsptchc9JUb0JrtxFS0SIO-1OIwTnJ_aokwIV4LyvF7KswSVfwWTedC_8kNw6InL3L92yPW3V0G_rroifG1Rm2Gq3w66CocwWXgVpf8-xatUPC_lJTmj0nJocAdV00Jo-UEm/s1600/CSC_8105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrMayBKoNlGsptchc9JUb0JrtxFS0SIO-1OIwTnJ_aokwIV4LyvF7KswSVfwWTedC_8kNw6InL3L92yPW3V0G_rroifG1Rm2Gq3w66CocwWXgVpf8-xatUPC_lJTmj0nJocAdV00Jo-UEm/s640/CSC_8105.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puerto Montt: our first time cycling at sea level since Cartagena, Colombia, near the northern tip of South America.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg36bo6ecKJ_ZcxK9k5x0HPYE1Biel4jFsCN5r-w9YpQtBZNhAV3rKoKfqL7fw7ard1KaDGGFDWQRYtXLhPxzj5VuYVK2HtF7sKK5yzw9S5G6ATYeTdZ4aTlSpMO8FGY6NWsnavMpcS0MuP/s1600/CSC_8108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg36bo6ecKJ_ZcxK9k5x0HPYE1Biel4jFsCN5r-w9YpQtBZNhAV3rKoKfqL7fw7ard1KaDGGFDWQRYtXLhPxzj5VuYVK2HtF7sKK5yzw9S5G6ATYeTdZ4aTlSpMO8FGY6NWsnavMpcS0MuP/s640/CSC_8108.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The weather rages on outside as climate-controlled life continues in swanky department stores</td></tr>
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Relieved to finally be outside of the madness of the big city of Puerto Montt, we leave the traffic of the main <i>carretera</i> and take a smaller road along the coast. Out here it's quiet and the mist makes everything a bit mysterious. We ride along coastal mud flats, passing by fisherman´s shacks and wooden rowboats. It feels good to be in a place where locals are living and working, and out of cottage country. Plus, there happen to be lots of ripe blackberries along the road, and that means snack time...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1O9I7Cn1-rbhO81MpaUJnFHJRmQ6fgvkRciN8C1TtPviCjk7n6R0fWDGHyEalK9eodBpoZZALM0tpbSk6csrkZiP1lpFlnqi66B_KF5RpYii9b-7Vz0G9DjxXVv-C5X2bu4_lCAelO5j/s1600/CSC_8116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1O9I7Cn1-rbhO81MpaUJnFHJRmQ6fgvkRciN8C1TtPviCjk7n6R0fWDGHyEalK9eodBpoZZALM0tpbSk6csrkZiP1lpFlnqi66B_KF5RpYii9b-7Vz0G9DjxXVv-C5X2bu4_lCAelO5j/s640/CSC_8116.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside of the city, it´s not long before we start seeing wildlife: here, a black-necked swan...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wgEENlFP6MwNy6yGDD2WbPaDnWsAC6FTysvT_a5pfvmxo5awJfcIFTIX__3wrONC7dUAJhAfvYGzm_X-ELYSbF7cIikAUMkw7hDUE5Py97cMOMkKC74Ewn9-XqCM_564HDH_Q8NBR3sS/s1600/CSC_8112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wgEENlFP6MwNy6yGDD2WbPaDnWsAC6FTysvT_a5pfvmxo5awJfcIFTIX__3wrONC7dUAJhAfvYGzm_X-ELYSbF7cIikAUMkw7hDUE5Py97cMOMkKC74Ewn9-XqCM_564HDH_Q8NBR3sS/s640/CSC_8112.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and here, a snail taking the fastest ride of its life on Danny´s helmet.</td></tr>
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Back on the main road, we make good progress to La Arena where the pavement ends and we need to catch a short ferry. Just our luck, a ferry is in the process of loading as we arrive, and we cruise right onboard! The second we're on, the ramp lifts and we're motoring away. That's our James Bond moment for the day.</div>
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As we stand on deck admiring the rugged green hills and pouring waterfalls, something in the water catches our attention. Penguins! Our first of hopefully many sightings.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05JT_vnymxtsRme-ejlaU_6ATR4Zt-IIXimWDWth0bF5d4tn0bgjc4H8EYraedRUOGZhzTve8hyphenhyphen3gco3nEsMfWjBMiseYx6qqKaCBEjfYvRTxm-lbOIEHm7CdHCJrHhK08Y1s6wzpZBob/s1600/CSC_8117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05JT_vnymxtsRme-ejlaU_6ATR4Zt-IIXimWDWth0bF5d4tn0bgjc4H8EYraedRUOGZhzTve8hyphenhyphen3gco3nEsMfWjBMiseYx6qqKaCBEjfYvRTxm-lbOIEHm7CdHCJrHhK08Y1s6wzpZBob/s640/CSC_8117.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A ferry similar to ours</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1n-RhJFlbonkouHZUHBJ8oqGas-5FAgd4ZrKCOq2r3X2DfklgRVWlVHXhCh4smbvgfnNpjKmcDgcf9iNbKJmnA2OVsdodcASX1zrXhUe5p-689U0VOGSI8cDxNV0MVJ5izXbWtiUWk3_3/s1600/CSC_8118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1n-RhJFlbonkouHZUHBJ8oqGas-5FAgd4ZrKCOq2r3X2DfklgRVWlVHXhCh4smbvgfnNpjKmcDgcf9iNbKJmnA2OVsdodcASX1zrXhUe5p-689U0VOGSI8cDxNV0MVJ5izXbWtiUWk3_3/s640/CSC_8118.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our bikes on board</td></tr>
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It seems that the sky here is determined to be grey and rainy. Luckily, when you're cycling, every day has sunny surprises, regardless of the weather. These are my top three for Day 2 on the Austral.<br />
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1) We stop to talk to a loaded-down cyclist making his way in the opposite direction. Alex, from France, started in Ushuia and is hoping to reach Alaska! How amazing to talk to someone at the beginning of their journey as we are nearing the end of ours. I am so excited for him.<br />
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2) When we reach the town of Hornopiren we stop at a small local, log-cabin style restaurant to get out of the cold rain. We're planning on just getting hot drinks, but soon the lure of hot food wins us over and we're chowing down on fresh fries, eggs, and spicy <i>merken </i>(pronounced mare-KEN).<br />
For those of you unfamiliar with <i>merken</i>, it's a local specialty of southern Chile, a delicious spice made from smoked peppers.<br />
<br />
3) Around 5 pm, the drunken men outside the supermarket are replaced with cute old ladies selling cakes and pies. Looks like dessert is going to be before dinner tonight.<br />
<br />
We're up early the following morning to catch a ferry. There's no road through this section, so a long ferry is the only option. It's a big, industrial boat loaded full with cars and people. When we arrive at the loading dock, a guy asks us for our tickets. As Hannah fishes through her jacket to find them in an inner pocket, he asks again and again, "los boletos, los boletos!" As soon as the tickets are out, he tells us to head on board. "Adelante! Adelante! Adelante!" This guy, who is in such a ridiculous hurry to load the ferry even when there's still half an hour before we leave, makes us laugh. Remember all the other over-anxious men who have loaded our bikes onto various forms of public transit in Central and South America? <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Chile is still part of Latin America, no matter how hard they try to pretend otherwise. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFA2oVSOs_qcx5Q9O65tKch8PTkUU_jsiIg4RWtPf4FtBFqnOGq6w11ZgD3xY85189V8Uqt8vNWxk2bx2w8Wo7IFQszuOv119DkInpAhisTMg4mTdjq3LVmxRkZK7MjsKNYu6eYt_d32w/s1600/CSC_8135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFA2oVSOs_qcx5Q9O65tKch8PTkUU_jsiIg4RWtPf4FtBFqnOGq6w11ZgD3xY85189V8Uqt8vNWxk2bx2w8Wo7IFQszuOv119DkInpAhisTMg4mTdjq3LVmxRkZK7MjsKNYu6eYt_d32w/s640/CSC_8135.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning dew in Hornopiren</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqk_aNi56-3zQpcZgmZSIF_aWBEXWOFh-_0RoaanotQoqJJ2Rx7lWCltNAobtRtBnV-3Lt5ITlrrpRzE6Lb-exUwe3P68Z3WCLRL4YzP5PR35fr0kiEHDwdjWyxSLyH0xj781qOI4ht2s0/s1600/CSC_8138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqk_aNi56-3zQpcZgmZSIF_aWBEXWOFh-_0RoaanotQoqJJ2Rx7lWCltNAobtRtBnV-3Lt5ITlrrpRzE6Lb-exUwe3P68Z3WCLRL4YzP5PR35fr0kiEHDwdjWyxSLyH0xj781qOI4ht2s0/s640/CSC_8138.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steaming south</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
There are 5 other cyclists on our ferry, and we've seen others on the road. It is unbelievable how many cyclists are out here! Part of me is really happy to see so many people out here using bikes to explore and travel, and another part of me is sad to see the cycling culture change. For every other section of our trip, every time we saw another cyclist, we would stop to exchange stories and info. Here, with so many people on the road, that's simply impractical if you don't want to spend all day chatting. So now we just ride by and wave. It's different.<br />
<br />
When our ferry arrives we have a 10 kilometer section of road to bike to the loading ramp of the next ferry. When I ask a ferry attendant how much time we will have before the next ferry leaves, he tells me 40 minutes. Not sure if we can make 10 kilometers in that time, I inquire, "what happens if we don't make it?" In response he shrugs. "Make a fire?"<br />
Not reassured by this, we bike as quickly as possible, and as we arrive, the next ferry is just pulling away. Noooo!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QaVI3k7SFqAkgVe0QfmdEUPNR_tI_cr2BVGzXHytZhhiF_oob5E6Wb_LUHAY0mtlG67DxBC615uhGDs5yH2M4IPNd8Hvetr5P5z4eOl3UIgpNWwZDL5WRCz7uIjnmnxQMhH04QecCAgn/s1600/CSC_8137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4QaVI3k7SFqAkgVe0QfmdEUPNR_tI_cr2BVGzXHytZhhiF_oob5E6Wb_LUHAY0mtlG67DxBC615uhGDs5yH2M4IPNd8Hvetr5P5z4eOl3UIgpNWwZDL5WRCz7uIjnmnxQMhH04QecCAgn/s640/CSC_8137.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There it goes. So close!</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
Luckily, things are not as bad as they seem. Another ferry is coming in half an hour or so (why couldn't the first guy have told me that?) and since not a single cyclist of the nine made the first ferry, we all sit around and share snacks before boarding the last boat.<br />
<br />
Finally done with ferry rides, we arrive in Parque Pumalin. In an effort to conserve some of the last temperate rainforest in the region, American businessman Doug Tompkins simply bought a whole bunch of land and made it into a park. Chile, apparently, was originally very suspicious of his motives, and the whole thing was rather controversial. Regardless, now it is open to public visitation, and we are excited to explore it!<br />
<br />
We ride a bit and then stop to walk the Sendero de Los Alerces. The path takes us through a stand of old-growth forest, the kind of forest where it's easy to believe in magic. The <i>Alerce</i> trees are thousands of years old, rare, huge, and majestic. Ferns and mosses grow from every surface, and strange insects dance around us. We see a neon orange bumblebee and an iridescent beetle that looks like it just emerged from Pan's Labyrinth. We're all happy we took a bit of time to wander out here; sometimes even biking is too fast.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHir1Z1UuD2MoEHWlSVGYa-5fZjMTaBmCiWHf3bO7t1wv5lUkBmAfnaxNXAdmvCIfUOMKF8nbdbVrsTNs4gxxstHEierQlacJ_4aeBEMJcG4C0oY8w-25o4LHZfHW_9YZXQQRjr0zAX1zL/s1600/CSC_8145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHir1Z1UuD2MoEHWlSVGYa-5fZjMTaBmCiWHf3bO7t1wv5lUkBmAfnaxNXAdmvCIfUOMKF8nbdbVrsTNs4gxxstHEierQlacJ_4aeBEMJcG4C0oY8w-25o4LHZfHW_9YZXQQRjr0zAX1zL/s640/CSC_8145.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don´t get caught in those pincers</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSq_n_fYlGSYpU-3njv8Z6q30swNxnd10daCkfqT22huoxpjNHIQD8Aw-8MYTXqB2UHW5Be-_vrf45nE7S3OKAMaRo1wdzvHy9JRuk2MTmaOcizzmQZpbnRq2t01XkwMr1gYbBAHDrxW-K/s1600/CSC_8278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSq_n_fYlGSYpU-3njv8Z6q30swNxnd10daCkfqT22huoxpjNHIQD8Aw-8MYTXqB2UHW5Be-_vrf45nE7S3OKAMaRo1wdzvHy9JRuk2MTmaOcizzmQZpbnRq2t01XkwMr1gYbBAHDrxW-K/s640/CSC_8278.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Textured, cedar-like bark of the <i>alerce</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWZAjaOmK_JzcpRWTl5CsU9YABBUuI781A8-an8xQsCDnV0eQIw0wl43aY4XNuDvHqXOaJAnByeOj27ey245Z1DDEv3xKe58I33bzLSXMJiv6J_f3xIOGS4HwUc0KNCgi14gX0mbNBDdDF/s1600/CSC_8143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWZAjaOmK_JzcpRWTl5CsU9YABBUuI781A8-an8xQsCDnV0eQIw0wl43aY4XNuDvHqXOaJAnByeOj27ey245Z1DDEv3xKe58I33bzLSXMJiv6J_f3xIOGS4HwUc0KNCgi14gX0mbNBDdDF/s640/CSC_8143.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everything growing seems to be growing from everything else. Even the dead trunks have multiple trees growing out of them, not to mention the countless ferns, lichens, mosses, and fungi.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS83_9L2u847VhBF66Q8RdFCaVpG07mqHkmqt-Dar_ZiIWP7zP9DZsOXYwrv1oLLs-2ewU1Bl9GMVVuESsCiWz0rC-spTG3UyiloXfWvcQIbN1HjjszDa5fYaFpZJeHnCfncz6X3ExZvbt/s1600/CSC_8141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS83_9L2u847VhBF66Q8RdFCaVpG07mqHkmqt-Dar_ZiIWP7zP9DZsOXYwrv1oLLs-2ewU1Bl9GMVVuESsCiWz0rC-spTG3UyiloXfWvcQIbN1HjjszDa5fYaFpZJeHnCfncz6X3ExZvbt/s640/CSC_8141.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And we get to be a part of it! Here´s the four of us coming together to form an alerce tree.</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
In the park it's required to stay in campgrounds. It would be almost impossible to wild camp anyway: the vegetation is simply too dense! When we arrive at the campground we want to stay at, it's completely full. Luckily, one of the parked RVs does not have a tent in its tent site, and the two friendly Swiss inside the RV say we can camp there, for free! Even better, we have a private, covered picnic area that is a fantastic refuge from the relentless rain. It´s all very North American in style.</div>
<div>
<br />
Volcan Chaiten, the nearby volcano, had some nasty eruptions from 2008-2011, and we can still see the destruction it wreaked on the park. As we ride we pass huge rivers strewn with dead trees, and hillsides of blackened vegetation. It's a stark reminder of the power stored within the earth.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeInDd_TsrOdbnYy7TxNGhyphenhyphen8SpHgiDM003lszgQ8Crgl7a925vdEMUilUHXFaLHDo2eDp2uzVWJFJtb7tm-URF4lKODPQ_HnZZ2Lq0VHHEbAxwaSFF4_ejKCAGsLp7RrLmlyDW_oUT2vTD/s1600/CSC_8148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeInDd_TsrOdbnYy7TxNGhyphenhyphen8SpHgiDM003lszgQ8Crgl7a925vdEMUilUHXFaLHDo2eDp2uzVWJFJtb7tm-URF4lKODPQ_HnZZ2Lq0VHHEbAxwaSFF4_ejKCAGsLp7RrLmlyDW_oUT2vTD/s640/CSC_8148.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Regrowing forest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbag-5OZYi3cTnydJy0aUGuZae7KHfIYu3oCjUhaZJ8nLL6Griib4rR9SJp8XIeBjKxQCnFUENOsH-KwXYlz8QosuUW8ww4pJHf1qnFT9w80_GdEC-67fJUFTIzu6oJpGqO9maJh-8UGh/s1600/CSC_8147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbag-5OZYi3cTnydJy0aUGuZae7KHfIYu3oCjUhaZJ8nLL6Griib4rR9SJp8XIeBjKxQCnFUENOsH-KwXYlz8QosuUW8ww4pJHf1qnFT9w80_GdEC-67fJUFTIzu6oJpGqO9maJh-8UGh/s640/CSC_8147.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It takes rain - a <i>lot</i> of rain - to make a rainforest.</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
We do one more hike before leaving Pumalin. My favorite part? The chucao tapaculos. These birds are small, but quite loud and extremely curious. When we stop and wait quietly, they approach, getting within inches of our feet! I feel lucky to be able to share a small moment with these delicate creatures.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaHBYaVbFv9q8DEkSKG61gxpIpvcF6XDN5rjGOGocicbBZ3cz7FxvTV2rfRcUiReYhUZCC5_FOPn9QmaYfqz5DocjkUERTwNx6ZCtvTuZgluNHUrFxRuF20BVVlnqoNs6Vot3-HB4b9Ll/s1600/CSC_8656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaHBYaVbFv9q8DEkSKG61gxpIpvcF6XDN5rjGOGocicbBZ3cz7FxvTV2rfRcUiReYhUZCC5_FOPn9QmaYfqz5DocjkUERTwNx6ZCtvTuZgluNHUrFxRuF20BVVlnqoNs6Vot3-HB4b9Ll/s640/CSC_8656.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A curious chucao tapaculo. This photo was actually taken far south of Parque Pumalin; the forest in Pumalin is simply too dense to let enough light through to allow a quality photo of these energetic little birds.</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
Leaving the park, we arrive in the strange town of Chaiten. The whole place is rather run down and feels almost deserted, except for the hordes of backpackers and cyclists. The place was hit hard by the volcanic eruption, and it seems clear that it has only survived due to its location on the Carretera Austral.<br />
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Continuing south, the sky begins to clear a bit and our road winds through a crazy mix of jungle and glaciers that make up the unique scenery.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvCet1lvtZwWdy7mH0oVjp9V4HyAnb9eedicsxvk9Q2CbHRJipG-WCuovl3rwa6iGpW8mqggAXANmiwU_0dRzbZh5YNu72KDaYNb74ZcudLX2Y13OJam4C7eIXm3WQbiMZD7WBblv5b_w/s1600/CSC_8149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvCet1lvtZwWdy7mH0oVjp9V4HyAnb9eedicsxvk9Q2CbHRJipG-WCuovl3rwa6iGpW8mqggAXANmiwU_0dRzbZh5YNu72KDaYNb74ZcudLX2Y13OJam4C7eIXm3WQbiMZD7WBblv5b_w/s640/CSC_8149.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And lakes. Don´t forget lakes. There are tons of them dotting the landscape along the Austral</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuNRmGP1i3_oo_DgurvcglpQGbJd6KdG3nKd2ozJz5jU1-jkdUO1mVw4oFROZTA3RMolIw6r2-wlB2723jNPsbeliunMiwBfPezlpKE-OwmXoKCZmPwLc9OZg14DljAJKchwVuZMSjnBp/s1600/CSC_8151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuNRmGP1i3_oo_DgurvcglpQGbJd6KdG3nKd2ozJz5jU1-jkdUO1mVw4oFROZTA3RMolIw6r2-wlB2723jNPsbeliunMiwBfPezlpKE-OwmXoKCZmPwLc9OZg14DljAJKchwVuZMSjnBp/s640/CSC_8151.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Descending to Villa Santa Lucia</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
No one can deny that the Austral is beautiful, but Danny and I haven't been enjoying it as much as we would have at the beginning of our trip. We've learned and changed a lot throughout the last 20 months, and right now the Austral isn't the challenge we're looking for. Annoyed with tourist traffic, we want to find our own road less traveled. Hannah and Chris aren't in the same headspace. They are enjoying the Austral and excited to make some progress south. We talk about it and decide that it would be best to split ways for a bit. We'll miss our wonderful friends, but we'll catch them down the road.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCtTtrxglroLEsXyvvNBWljq_HkabvugGRfhaHhsUkiq7mw6P0ggnI0OVum6mibQzqiT5mAXbEvXD66U5FLNNvyzabHeg17MNwKMbDs3RilDFg01_2u7YDSGLeM36Y_9WKDttsGXDSQvGE/s1600/CSC_8159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCtTtrxglroLEsXyvvNBWljq_HkabvugGRfhaHhsUkiq7mw6P0ggnI0OVum6mibQzqiT5mAXbEvXD66U5FLNNvyzabHeg17MNwKMbDs3RilDFg01_2u7YDSGLeM36Y_9WKDttsGXDSQvGE/s640/CSC_8159.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don´t drive too fast, folks.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHff12KDf9fRQOkyClK_nKfm-5P1F7w76vKSnRHCqx1F_3EySP9_lR2V1N9DKVgBEV1SnqaRYee_PK9vHtTVz-OUeeXO8HnYkUUbA_3pMk98U6MRz_v8gvL00NF30z-WYAP2DummAwWxK/s1600/CSC_8160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMHff12KDf9fRQOkyClK_nKfm-5P1F7w76vKSnRHCqx1F_3EySP9_lR2V1N9DKVgBEV1SnqaRYee_PK9vHtTVz-OUeeXO8HnYkUUbA_3pMk98U6MRz_v8gvL00NF30z-WYAP2DummAwWxK/s640/CSC_8160.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hannah and Chris: a portrait.</td></tr>
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<div>
<br />
Route Notes:<br />
<b>Puerto Montt-Villa Sta Lucia (Carretera Austral)</b>: Make sure you buy your ticket ahead of time for the Hornopiren-Caleta Gonzalo ferry! There are shops in Hornopiren, Chaiten, and Villa Sta Lucia. Free wi-fi in the plazas of Hornopiren and Chaiten. About half of this stretch is currently paved, and they're hard at work on the ripio around Lago Yelcho. No fee for Parque Pumalin trails, but camping in the park sites is 2500 pesos p/p or 7500 for a "modulo," your own covered picnic area. Camping outside of the campgrounds would be difficult, as the forest is continuous and dense. It's also prohibited. There's an info center in Caleta Gonzalo.</div>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-61382528551221518202016-02-14T20:27:00.001-08:002016-04-27T08:39:43.602-07:00In Search of a Volcano, February 10th-14th<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Villa La Angostura-Paso Cardenal Samoré-Anticura (Chile)-Entre Lagos-Puerto Klocker-Paso Desolación-Petrohue-Ensenada-Puerto Varas</i></div>
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We start the day with a productive stop at the YPF, my favorite Argentinian gas station. Here you can find clean bathrooms (with TP and soap!) use wi-fi, and fill up water. What more could you need?<br />
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We have a quiet and scenic morning ride until we see a sign indicating that we'll reach the Argentinian border control in one km. Immediately the road is blocked by a huge line of cars. The people in these cars are clearly not expecting to move anytime soon. They are all out, snacking and playing in the nearby river. We decide to bypass all of them. Seems like our bikes are actually the faster option in this case, and they let us through without issue. The border process is quite simple. We recieve a paper from an official in a booth, then get it stamped by both immigration and customs officials, and hand it to another official in a booth as we head out. No one asks us a single question.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">A slow climb up the pass, and then a fast and fabulous downhill brings us into Chile. In fact, for one section we´re actually keeping up with a line of slow moving cars. Again, bikes for the win! At Chilean border control, proceedings are the mirror image of Argentina, except for the fact that we have to finish all of Chris and Hannah´s raisins before the SAG officer takes them away from us. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zFMlFx0vxlo7gRyBNcj91dWAnzwO3JCA7fXPzGytj4IchicTVb-zNsEVt0eJm_Tj6BhXgxtz2gK_49OP-oFi2vBmJUPhi0aZOR0OXYJ9tS-SnTNe-OXkdQPhcUMQ0M3_l3zek7KeecM/s1600/IMG_4942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zFMlFx0vxlo7gRyBNcj91dWAnzwO3JCA7fXPzGytj4IchicTVb-zNsEVt0eJm_Tj6BhXgxtz2gK_49OP-oFi2vBmJUPhi0aZOR0OXYJ9tS-SnTNe-OXkdQPhcUMQ0M3_l3zek7KeecM/s640/IMG_4942.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I felt a little bad passing all these cars in line... but not that bad. Photo courtesy of Hannah</td></tr>
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We spend a while scouting for a good campsite. All of our searching missions lead us to areas strewn with toilet paper. It´s so sad to see a National Park polluted this way, and I hope that one day things here will be improved by building toilets or providing education on how to go to the bathroom in the woods responsibly. Finally we find a good spot down by a river. The water is slow-moving and refreshing, and as we get ready for bed, the setting sun lights up a mountain in brilliant hues of pink. Welcome back to Chile.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Volcanic rocks float down the river by our campsite. Photo courtesy of Hannah</td></tr>
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The next morning, a smooth paved road brings us to the town of Entre Lagos. We are thinking about attempting a trail up and over Volcan Osorno, but we have very little information about it. Since this is the last big town we´re passing through we want to ask around for some local knowledge.<br />
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First stop: Tourist Information Center. The cheery lady there insists that there is no way to go around the volcano besides the main highway, and then marks this obvious route on three separate maps. When I ask her politely to stop drawing on the maps because we are not planning to take them, she insists indignantly that she needs to at least mark the town of Entre Lagos so we can see where we are. I'm not sure why people at tourism offices seem to be so determined to mark things on maps. I guess most of the people coming through here are extremely lost.<br />
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Second stop: the <i>carabineros</i>, the police. Danny goes to talk to these guys while I do some shopping. When he asks about the trail the officers say they know it but refuse to give him any information. It's simply not recommended; people get lost, then the police have to go look for them in helicopters. Danny explains his experience and skill with route finding, but they still refuse to help, calling after him to ¨please be careful¨ as he walks away, frustrated. After doing the trail, it`s clear that they had never actually been on the wide, well-maintained trail, as a blind person could probably follow it.</div>
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Third stop: fire station. Two nice older ladies open the door when we knock. They don´t look like firefighters, but they at least attempt to be helpful. They reassure us that there are trails on the volcano, but they're not sure where these trails go.<br />
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Fourth stop: wi-fi. Within an hour we have all the info we need. Sometimes local knowledge cannot compete with the internet.<br />
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For the night we find an amazing campsite on the edge of a huge lake that pours into a rushing river. Above us looms the snowy cone of Volcan Osorno. A challenge awaits us there. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGT40TpaY_l2l3prykBou-sXYzxNgUs04Hjd8CB0HWuTYc0NjeZaurc8ugdh_wcaUV_ygjupL-X4zOX7nJcB7VmzIR8Bf7PCa_8AlIHobFlrkRbumNuJ-SkIYHJ_Z9dyKJqU9oRjKqh7U/s1600/CSC_7833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGT40TpaY_l2l3prykBou-sXYzxNgUs04Hjd8CB0HWuTYc0NjeZaurc8ugdh_wcaUV_ygjupL-X4zOX7nJcB7VmzIR8Bf7PCa_8AlIHobFlrkRbumNuJ-SkIYHJ_Z9dyKJqU9oRjKqh7U/s640/CSC_7833.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looks like there are more than just those seven famous lakes...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UjYMZE-vma8JvfUUZq9mhTUVsqFbPSKjfKsreM29wIOav3NKPf7r38TxRON4kfGNX5uJUD5hbJRxXH0bKiIG_Oysx-8sq0lIY4vVkzcuSAdv9qR9kyMbuSikrvgzJc3G3RmwphbZXuY/s1600/CSC_7835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UjYMZE-vma8JvfUUZq9mhTUVsqFbPSKjfKsreM29wIOav3NKPf7r38TxRON4kfGNX5uJUD5hbJRxXH0bKiIG_Oysx-8sq0lIY4vVkzcuSAdv9qR9kyMbuSikrvgzJc3G3RmwphbZXuY/s640/CSC_7835.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah bike lane! Volcan Osorno in the background, the last time we would see it before a three-day storm moved in<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">The rainy morning can't dampen our enthusiasm as we head towards the volcano. We're not the only enthusiastic cycle tourists out on the road. A French family with three kids cycling from Chile to Peru! Talk about inspiring!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2F7qsx62uIv6NKPSzZTf46P1wKjmJp4K3uJE9zdcPd6ZBZhVQICPCoCiKa3SvW0829_gWghWaCEL549IuI8ZsD1mevhVvk6jN8b-kPHJIKYsKTjWqiAZVgTtF0OfpyXm-YG-K6L0gN0/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2F7qsx62uIv6NKPSzZTf46P1wKjmJp4K3uJE9zdcPd6ZBZhVQICPCoCiKa3SvW0829_gWghWaCEL549IuI8ZsD1mevhVvk6jN8b-kPHJIKYsKTjWqiAZVgTtF0OfpyXm-YG-K6L0gN0/s640/FullSizeRender+%25285%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The champion cycling family. The kids carry all their own gear, and they travel 30 km per day. There`s only so much time to cycle when you have to do school<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Mid morning, we're turning onto a dirt track. A sign informs us that there is a cafeteria at the top of the climb, and immediately Chris begins to fantasize about mac and cheese, jello, and all our favorite cafeteria foods. (Cafeteria means cafe in Spanish)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">As we climb we are welcomed into a gorgeous forest by large reddish ferns. Slowly the environment becomes more and more alpine until the ground is mossy and covered in delicate mounds of reindeer lichens.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfjAkdDrB1696aBC6LhGVfd36GzAsut2WHlKgiG9uV9_7F31yTHWwHaQEMemd5B5Leob9z_6tQahA1z_ZDQvqRhlTheqsvidyDFEysO5_Gt897dbdl_8KLT3LMJb3j5lUUwcTqcYBAs4/s1600/CSC_7836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfjAkdDrB1696aBC6LhGVfd36GzAsut2WHlKgiG9uV9_7F31yTHWwHaQEMemd5B5Leob9z_6tQahA1z_ZDQvqRhlTheqsvidyDFEysO5_Gt897dbdl_8KLT3LMJb3j5lUUwcTqcYBAs4/s640/CSC_7836.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Are we back in the rainforest?</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, our sun fades into the clouds and it begins to rain again. This time it's back to stay. We are delighted to finally spot a sign for the promised cafeteria, but our dreams of hot chocolate and treats are quickly lost when we arrive to find the building locked.</div>
With no available shelter from the pouring rain, we decide to make our own. We find a big old blue tarp on the ground, and with some straps and a bit of creativity we manage to create a pretty good cover with it. Both tents can just fit under, and things look good until water starts draining from the tarp and our tent space starts to flood. An emergency tent moving leaves us and most of our stuff soaked, but at least we won't be sleeping in a lake for the night.<br />
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The morning dawns a bit cloudy but free of rain and we quickly begin to pack up of stuff with hopes of heading up to volcano. But more rain is on its way, and our already drenched clothing is getting wetter as we begin our trail. Hey, at least we have a big hill to warm up on!<br />
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The trail up the volcano is far better than we expected. It's wide, not too steep, and rideable for most of the way up. The top of the pass marks the clearing of some clouds and some of the best trail riding I've done in my life. The way down is a different story. A trail sandy with volcanic ash proves to be quite the challenge. We all appreciate the soft landing zone as we tumble off our bikes.<br />
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In the spirit of adventures, Chris tries a new riding strategy and falls off of his bike, slicing himself on his gears. The wound looks nasty, but he'll survive.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIBBjBgZlaXs6vYK_EnTjCa3xi-QSRLql-LgcErCNrhRyJlQ6yvaymnzBuhYaqtWbL-1izEN4A0wdDoJXF9axtEar_QlQIOwkwhj3Gzrjd0184I5L3oklvUXjnrEqWB4-7Bbc3anKyXU/s1600/CSC_7837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIBBjBgZlaXs6vYK_EnTjCa3xi-QSRLql-LgcErCNrhRyJlQ6yvaymnzBuhYaqtWbL-1izEN4A0wdDoJXF9axtEar_QlQIOwkwhj3Gzrjd0184I5L3oklvUXjnrEqWB4-7Bbc3anKyXU/s640/CSC_7837.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's our trail </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hannah and Chris making their way up the last bit of the ascent</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjze7OGZjIxjXzkAQtSBVi19yLx_XWVjODAQcaU8N3qhy4Gj-m72IAVmFMQneB-9ZEJdU7mLamCgewee8pEkGrM6eYBA6s8Uk5MIaxvncGBhnDQc5ql9IGwPqqjgsaVU99-kr5VqnYc8B0/s1600/CSC_7839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjze7OGZjIxjXzkAQtSBVi19yLx_XWVjODAQcaU8N3qhy4Gj-m72IAVmFMQneB-9ZEJdU7mLamCgewee8pEkGrM6eYBA6s8Uk5MIaxvncGBhnDQc5ql9IGwPqqjgsaVU99-kr5VqnYc8B0/s640/CSC_7839.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a team!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdHwrlNFZZnedArwthxTCRYVJS3VNs_0cs8mkdiroQm3wpxrQo34If9Whe19yPrIjGZaNQHoaWjuDm2KtoDX30UYN9DAsdpZuTrOt_9PDTUdMSRB4fdFtULbINqOyjXbV16zQbfVZvBI/s1600/CSC_7842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQdHwrlNFZZnedArwthxTCRYVJS3VNs_0cs8mkdiroQm3wpxrQo34If9Whe19yPrIjGZaNQHoaWjuDm2KtoDX30UYN9DAsdpZuTrOt_9PDTUdMSRB4fdFtULbINqOyjXbV16zQbfVZvBI/s640/CSC_7842.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As the sun begins to emerge, finally we are rewarded with some views!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rd87RGTgVTseRC0h2PnfxxgrvtlW6sqN-bF6oP9xVElbTlu6HyIXMJzRNRWYgNq0amlueBrH1ZMAku8k2cdhFBxQE6xuCrhupKPx6a4H54lt9zkTjtOJ_GQmQt8VypsLG81NNTfGEq8/s1600/CSC_7851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3rd87RGTgVTseRC0h2PnfxxgrvtlW6sqN-bF6oP9xVElbTlu6HyIXMJzRNRWYgNq0amlueBrH1ZMAku8k2cdhFBxQE6xuCrhupKPx6a4H54lt9zkTjtOJ_GQmQt8VypsLG81NNTfGEq8/s640/CSC_7851.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mountain biking doesn´t get much better than this</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAu8XhD3YfKBhAF4Z94v8Pvt65xfHwEKWJjSwpGGp32lfSpN8JnIlAUhrwbKCpAPLlU9dnPxxU3xY5NwfddItwFNIDRrHwqljRErUsAXP5sqAyXDa-RFl3xv7LUwQD5UbExFVPlCyyvds/s1600/CSC_7852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAu8XhD3YfKBhAF4Z94v8Pvt65xfHwEKWJjSwpGGp32lfSpN8JnIlAUhrwbKCpAPLlU9dnPxxU3xY5NwfddItwFNIDRrHwqljRErUsAXP5sqAyXDa-RFl3xv7LUwQD5UbExFVPlCyyvds/s640/CSC_7852.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cover shot for Adventure Magazine?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-z3DDVEuODoO8HHwagcnZpduah87ZkHwViBJKRjicFlmSsGGL1guadHXbtgQ91lPBoRJfT4rA7HSby0E96xh8b76CsBxwrVOIl68nsHSdjTy2RzAb8BmlJPtLpWgc8Jrbt2ZWEJJZZc/s1600/CSC_7854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-z3DDVEuODoO8HHwagcnZpduah87ZkHwViBJKRjicFlmSsGGL1guadHXbtgQ91lPBoRJfT4rA7HSby0E96xh8b76CsBxwrVOIl68nsHSdjTy2RzAb8BmlJPtLpWgc8Jrbt2ZWEJJZZc/s640/CSC_7854.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things get sandy, but Hannah is still determined to ride...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...until both feet come off the pedals...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...uh oh!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">100 points for effort</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris pulling rocks out of his leg</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A last sandy/ashy bit. That volcano is still hiding in the clouds!</td></tr>
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Back among tourists and paved roads, we're happy to discover a rushing teal river and bike lane leading us into "town." The "town" of Ensenada is really a street full of cabañas and camping areas. Tonight we're happy to pay a bit for a covered campsite with wi-fi and hot showers. Finally our stuff has some time to dry!</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Another rainy day sees us biking into the town of Puerto Varas, where we are welcomed by our fantastic warmshowers hosts Lucas, Paloma, and Paloma's mother Gabriela. We enjoy an amazing evening with them, poring over maps and enjoying some homemade, gourmet banana bread and pizza. How lucky we all are to have this wonderful place to rest! </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hot cocoa and cookie stop is necessary to escape the cold rain. Plus, it is Valentines Day...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cyclist`s favorite pastime: Chris and Hannah looking over maps with our host, Lucas<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Route Notes:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">- <b>Villa La Angostura (Argentina) to Entre Lagos (Chile): </b>All paved, beautiful through Parque Nacional Petrohue. Definitely not quiet, but traffic was never overwhelming until the last few kilometers. Entre Lagos has shops, restaurants, ATMs, internet, and extremely unhelpful police.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>- Entre Lagos to Puerto Varas via Osorno:</b> Great riding from Entre Lagos to the intersection with a larger road at Lago Llanquihue. All paved, including a bike path to Lago Rupanco ending in a great spot to camp anywhere at the lake and where it drains. The larger road heading east towards Ensenada is much more trafficked, definitely not an enjoyable stretch. We turned off at Puerto Clocker, 18km from there to Refugio La Picada, which was locked and seemed inhabited even though no one was there. The climb through the National Park is scenic, smooth, and gradual, a great ride that was probably helped by how rainy it was - fewer people heading to the park.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The trail we took is called Paso Desolacion, and it`s on Open Street Maps. The ascent to the pass was 99% rideable for us, all except for a few patches of deep sand. A strong rider on a fatbike could probably ride all of it, although the rain may have actually kept things firmer than usual, so I can`t be sure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The descent was fantastic for the first few kilometers, only a few odd meters of pushing through deep sand, but the last eight km into Petrohue were all very deep sand, somewhat of a slog in parts. Fortunately it`s almost all downhill, so you can kind of slide down all except the last five km.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Petrohue has a little market, a cafe, and some very expensive-looking cabañas. About 8 km of <i>ripio</i> until pavement, then there`s a bike path all the way to Puerto Varas. Ensenada has a little market and lots of camping places.</span></div>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-22156037156584745622016-02-14T19:03:00.000-08:002016-04-27T08:40:42.709-07:00I Challenge You... to Ride the Ruta de los Siete Lagos, February 7th-9th<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>San Martín de los Andes-Villa La Angostura</i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Lake and bikes - life is good<br />
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Hannah and Chris's wheels are old and not totally straight, and we can't do anything about it because our spoke tool is broken! I'm worried that if we don't true them soon the increased weight on the back wheel might be a bit too much for the spokes to handle. Thus begins a search in San Martin de Los Andes for a spoke wrench. The first two shops I go to tell me that they only have them for their mechanics and they can't sell one. The lady at the third shop tells me the same. But then, in steps Taku, an extremely friendly bike mechanic who tells me, hold on, I think I might know where you can get one. We whiz off, biking fast together across town. The first shop is closed, but the second is open. We stoop low to enter a cave full of bike tools and a rather large bearded man working on a bike. The bearded guy is clearly a bit feisty. He has three spoke tools but insists that he needs all of them for maintenance. When Taku offers to buy him a new one tomorrow when a different shop is open, he turns to me. "What do you know about spoke maintenance? It's difficult adjusting a wheel." When I explain that I built the wheels on my bike, he tromps outside to take a look at them himself, then goes on a rant about how expensive spoke tools are. Mid rant, he turns and walks into the back of the shop, returning a few minutes later with a gleaming new spoke tool which he sells to me at a reasonable price. Got to love shopping in Latin America.<br />
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Cheers to Taku - I couldn't have completed this errand without his help and generosity!<br />
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It's a solid start to the famous Ruta de los Siete Lagos (Route of the Seven Lakes). It's quite late when we finally bike out of town, but we have enough daylight to find a cute campsite at a very reasonable price. We don't usually like to pay for camping, but due to some stomach problems, certain group members are grateful for a bathroom. Plus, we have a whole area to ourselves, including a beautiful bubbling stream.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris, Tam, Danny and Dan chatting and taking in the views of Party Lake (no, that`s not its real name... read on). Photo courtesy of Hannah</td></tr>
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We know that the Ruta de los Siete Lagos is paved and touristy, which means that it's going to lack a certain charm that less traveled routes tend to hold. But we're determined to enjoy it as much as possible, and this leads to the creation of a game. There are seven lakes and six of us. That means that there's a lake for each of us, plus a party lake. At our lake we get to create a challenge for the other members of the group. We also develop some challenges that we can attempt at any point during the day. These include things such as:<br />
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- Get a tourist to share mate with you (easily achieved at the first viewpoint we reach)<br />
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- Convince a tourist that you've just seen a condor (attempted many times with limited success)<br />
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-Get in tourist photos (too easy! Everyone wants to take pictures of our bikes!)<br />
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-Make a grumpy-looking tourist smile. (Great success with this all day!)<br />
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-Accidentally confuse Argentina with Chile in conversation with a tourist. (I think they were just as confused as we were...)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some stretching warmups at... uhh... one of the lakes. Dan`s not really stretching, but we`ll let it slide</td></tr>
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Our day is filled with beautiful lakes, lots of laughter and singing along the way. Dan's lake is somehow combined with the party lake and we sit around for a good while reflecting on the values of a good boxed wine and the animals it reminds us of (cockroach, jellyfish, raccoon, etc).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only the finest of wines for us. Photo courtesy of Hannah</td></tr>
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Riding along Gina's lake we all switch bikes, and I get to have some fun on one of the fatties!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bike switching: Tam on Dan`s, Dan on Tam`s, Hannah on Gina`s, Chris on mine... Photo courtesy of Gina</td></tr>
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And for the perfect finale we find a fantastic, free, grassy camp spot on a lake where Hannah and Chris attempt to teach us how to do acro-yoga (aka we end up in a pile on the ground).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny being an unstable ¨flyer¨. Photo courtesy of Gina</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AAX-vaE0DVXEJ7uqPqcYTxUcKkXHIQ5jlncMqw2HrjbvTpc_7lNUlY3vfo3cuaOe1T0FAMHVxT04LTo53eMkOOKKnwjBjSOipj-InWH0OcCjiouDj8p1D3qjSCWRsD5vzMXnSasDeYQ/s1600/CSC_7814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AAX-vaE0DVXEJ7uqPqcYTxUcKkXHIQ5jlncMqw2HrjbvTpc_7lNUlY3vfo3cuaOe1T0FAMHVxT04LTo53eMkOOKKnwjBjSOipj-InWH0OcCjiouDj8p1D3qjSCWRsD5vzMXnSasDeYQ/s640/CSC_7814.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful views of Lago... ummm...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Digitalis (Foxglove), a colorful flower known for its medicinal uses</td></tr>
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The next day is just as fun, more beautiful weather and blue lakes, and more challenges. We take funny group photos, write haikus, and create interpretive dances. Check out the results below...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoytn_rpgiV_zg7hTl4-UNm1CSjm7wgLEAlmmlX8S1dIVuQIg2mwMPDPj7-cd-fnxGZZJs2OqmuqX2ELwfVv0YEqoVcvbQhbEW7CK_Va6nawRG330_qY8uzDfgK4G-z6X1EewQb7nXgrw/s1600/dsc03265-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoytn_rpgiV_zg7hTl4-UNm1CSjm7wgLEAlmmlX8S1dIVuQIg2mwMPDPj7-cd-fnxGZZJs2OqmuqX2ELwfVv0YEqoVcvbQhbEW7CK_Va6nawRG330_qY8uzDfgK4G-z6X1EewQb7nXgrw/s640/dsc03265-edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Peeking out from behind the bikes, photo courtesy of Gina. We attempted to get a finger in the photo in all the remaining group shots by picking the person least likely to know how to operate a camera</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Can you guess who wrote which one?<br />
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Video credit: Gina</div>
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Only the end of the day is sad. We are splitting ways with Dan and Gina. They're heading south on a trail and us on roads for the moment. Safe and happy travels, dear friends!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the best parts of La Ruta de los Siete Lagos?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blackberries!</td></tr>
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Route Notes:<br />
The Ruta de los Siete Lagos is now all paved, 110 km. Free, legal camping at Lago Villarina about halfway. See our previous post for info on San Martin de los Andes and camping there.</div>
Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-49368479250870218542016-02-09T14:43:00.001-08:002016-02-09T14:43:32.880-08:0020 Months: Just the Numbers<div>
We`ve been on the road for 20 months! Here`s our trip in a nutshell:</div>
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Distance bicycled:</u> 16,334 miles (26,288 kilometers), approximately<br /><u>National Parks visited:</u> 27, plus countless other types of reserves<br /><u>Bird species positively identified:</u> 523<br /><u>4,000-meter (13,100-foot) passes ascended:</u> 47<div>
<u>Highest altitude bicycled (loaded):</u> 16,325 feet (4,976 meters), Punta Pumacocha, Peru<br /><u>Highest altitude bicycled (unloaded):</u> 18,900 feet (5,760 meters), Cerro Uturuncu, Bolivia<br /><u>Highest altitude attained on foot:</u> 20,144 feet (6,140 meters), Volcan Queva, Argentina<br /><u>Stamps from Argentina and Chile in our passports:</u> 29 (they made a mistake at one entry and gave Tam two stamps)<br /><u>Touring cyclists seen on the Ruta de Siete Lagos: 43</u></div>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-52710630056160371492016-02-09T14:14:00.004-08:002016-04-27T08:43:37.114-07:00Rivers and Roads: A Surprise Visit to Argentina. January 30th-February 6th<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Pucón-Parque Nacional Villarrica-Coñaripe-Choshuenco-Enco-Neltume-Puerto Fuy-Paso Hua Hum-San Martín de los Andes (Argentina)</i></div>
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Aaand we're on the road, all four of us together! Funny how life can change so quickly when you leave yourself open to spontaneity. Pavement turns to dusty dirt as we head up around Volcan Villarrica, and seeing no need to push ourselves hard on Chris and Hannah's first cycling day, we stop after a few hours of slow, steady climbing at a nice spot by a river. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hu-man-o-rama; a special technique for capturing everyone in a panorama</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Over the river and through the woods...</td></tr>
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As we're preparing dinner, a car going by sees us and stops. I (Danny) walk out to the road to chat. A lady wearing a blazer from the 1970s slams her door, having gone from zero to irate in an instant. "You're on our land!" she screams. "There are animals coming; you'll block their access to the river! And you're killing the grass! Leave immediately or we'll call the police!" All this accompanied by wild, exaggerated gesticulations which only add to the show. Her temper is beyond lost, like that of an inconsolable toddler, and she's wrong; there's no river access near our tents and we're not on the grass. But we are on their land. I politely mention that we'll be leaving immediately, which only makes her angrier. Clearly she wants a reaction, and as she starts yelling again, her husband calls her off. They move on, and we shuttle our tents 50 feet to the other side of the road. We're laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation but are still a little bit shaken up, simply because this woman was so insanely angry over such a seemingly insignificant issue. I don't want to cause anyone such stress.</div>
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After yesterday's dusty ride and private property altercation, we are eager to come across the first signs for Villarrica National Park. Even better, our fears that the road through the park had been "improved" are immediately dispelled. The top few kilometers are still considered intransitable, meaning that, although we have to push a bit up some steep sections, there is plenty of fun, technical riding with no traffic! A perfect cycling route through shady, old-growth, monkey puzzle tree forest, aka food for the soul.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris and Hannah doing some great cycling</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam tearin` it up</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pushing on their first full day of cycle touring. These guys are champs!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how we know we`re in the right place</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding hard, Hannah took a tumble but popped right back up</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shady forest riding</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLkFTwqZrFvDUWKR1iEuCy26GbKgDtY-YeZ05cBGJDaZ8Mman7cgp18iFHT3ohlT6-GlGTeL1bdifmOVslk842p6XVY25Pq3ElugLtCI2qbpTrCO1pcg_w905tCAj3x6y-F4zjnq8ftY/s1600/CSC_7504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLkFTwqZrFvDUWKR1iEuCy26GbKgDtY-YeZ05cBGJDaZ8Mman7cgp18iFHT3ohlT6-GlGTeL1bdifmOVslk842p6XVY25Pq3ElugLtCI2qbpTrCO1pcg_w905tCAj3x6y-F4zjnq8ftY/s640/CSC_7504.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thousand-year-old trees line the path</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXuOa_vPjJBODCz1a0kURDKlqRAlYpWEHkel1sq6KtZP9yMN69yYQzpiQg9aox2WxJJFM7AIPhHUogsCa43n7bZpLbGmJ6eWTbAo978oQtjG6hO90Hg4mFQLcmKnkIHa3z0cbYnx9bu0/s1600/CSC_7491.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXuOa_vPjJBODCz1a0kURDKlqRAlYpWEHkel1sq6KtZP9yMN69yYQzpiQg9aox2WxJJFM7AIPhHUogsCa43n7bZpLbGmJ6eWTbAo978oQtjG6hO90Hg4mFQLcmKnkIHa3z0cbYnx9bu0/s640/CSC_7491.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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Unfortunately the descent on the other side passes by some hot springs, and we quickly learn that Chileans on summer vacation love their hot springs. In fact, all of Santiago seems to be here showering us with dust as they speed by. We turn onto pavement at Coñaripe and speed out of town. At least on pavement we won't be getting asthma from the dust.<br />
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A few flat, paved kilometers take us to a bridge, and we decide to stop for the night. Hannah's knee has been bothering her since she took a tumble this morning, and there's no reason to push it. Especially because some friendly ladies are selling Chile's version of fried dough right next to our secret campsite! We can't resist trying a few <i>calzones rotos</i> and <i>sopaipillas</i>: delicious sugary, fried appetizers to dinner. Even better is our campsite. Although we are surrounded by private property, we traverse a small offshoot of a raging river and find a flat, untouched island perfect for a good night's rest. We all head to the river to wash off, and as Chris sits down in the glacial water with an agonized shout, a car stops on the nearby bridge, a window rolls down, and a smartphone camera comes out. Tourists, huh? There's no escaping them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8zbrdksxPwk0_eGKu-n11m_NxPMM4LGcR2m18EmEbyKlA-nbtuTfAfMK_POkL4h5LqRpTb0yUpOjrhLDZb_N9iHRviT5UXD1qi_yF0aK4LOWut2msh2y1Bi2zCe0cTF6f5Nz_gW4-ak/s1600/CSC_7671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8zbrdksxPwk0_eGKu-n11m_NxPMM4LGcR2m18EmEbyKlA-nbtuTfAfMK_POkL4h5LqRpTb0yUpOjrhLDZb_N9iHRviT5UXD1qi_yF0aK4LOWut2msh2y1Bi2zCe0cTF6f5Nz_gW4-ak/s640/CSC_7671.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sopaipilla, delicious fried calories heading straight to the legs</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvrYjFnz5nK8_WIOt2dlSG5dmigawD-C6bCjDP2oOkoE8YlgO6BFKfQQhJFEPQWuOkRttKWoJqzwStM73QiprxH1iUIRPyUWp1kSWmJiNCkVy8qhiU6SfW7w7hHsGSk5GeV8-Ax0PKA3Q/s1600/CSC_7499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvrYjFnz5nK8_WIOt2dlSG5dmigawD-C6bCjDP2oOkoE8YlgO6BFKfQQhJFEPQWuOkRttKWoJqzwStM73QiprxH1iUIRPyUWp1kSWmJiNCkVy8qhiU6SfW7w7hHsGSk5GeV8-Ax0PKA3Q/s640/CSC_7499.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If this were a comprehension quiz, I would have correctly gotten 1 out of 3</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjldGm5i-kIKW4fIs-KrIjnW7700-fbDJG5rFs_hYZzxRS1E7dNiVCkDBwZBWomh4pQ2Gp9jVHQJdWK-iAerYQjW_mUsjhJEfI5sjwqhA525t8ThkssxJQw6IU-v_QSL56BLEFzL9gne6A/s1600/CSC_7513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjldGm5i-kIKW4fIs-KrIjnW7700-fbDJG5rFs_hYZzxRS1E7dNiVCkDBwZBWomh4pQ2Gp9jVHQJdWK-iAerYQjW_mUsjhJEfI5sjwqhA525t8ThkssxJQw6IU-v_QSL56BLEFzL9gne6A/s640/CSC_7513.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris and Tam traversing a river to our secret campsite</td></tr>
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Our pavement ends soon the next morning, so we spend some more time acquiring free layers of dirt sunscreen from passing cars. At least we have a nice lunch spot...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilOAm2cmCco4J_82FdWgSwwILj21NBIUM9YG-e0u2CAzuCW0HzPeoMdH86a96V-vO0RjIqcjkQXbpCMf4u1iV3LynH8GmuRSJj5oPEQp93BkPgdS2Z7DI6TZUCm7yiGyAbGmyVoKfnFY/s1600/CSC_7521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilOAm2cmCco4J_82FdWgSwwILj21NBIUM9YG-e0u2CAzuCW0HzPeoMdH86a96V-vO0RjIqcjkQXbpCMf4u1iV3LynH8GmuRSJj5oPEQp93BkPgdS2Z7DI6TZUCm7yiGyAbGmyVoKfnFY/s640/CSC_7521.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Volcan Mocho Choshuenco providing a gorgeous backdrop</td></tr>
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And as we're finishing up eating, who comes by but Dan and Gina! They headed out of Pucon when we met up with Chris and Hannah. I am so excited to see us all roll off together, one big biker gang rolling six deep.<br />
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In the afternoon we reach our destination, Choshuenco, which is only really a destination because it marks the beginning of a trail. No traffic there, surely! Apparently there's no trail either, say multiple sources in town, but we decide to give it a shot anyway. The next morning sees us on a barely visible track ripping our way through thickets of blackberries, the spiky devils of the plant world. Somewhat demoralized by how impassable it is, we all powwow for a bit and decide that it's not worth continuing. I might have sacrificed my epidermis for ripe blackberries, but unripe, no way!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdP-YLXF4fTvFUuN9X6O9Cd7hXaRTzqm_TEpSojl4AVCnvtmh9filkIvPSehHwB4His8yKeTMmJH7GHIQTwyaebkXKjDtadi0AW_iIrXDT0xiGor0MkSBRymaYcABAISzHXokmhEc6cw8/s1600/CSC_7556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdP-YLXF4fTvFUuN9X6O9Cd7hXaRTzqm_TEpSojl4AVCnvtmh9filkIvPSehHwB4His8yKeTMmJH7GHIQTwyaebkXKjDtadi0AW_iIrXDT0xiGor0MkSBRymaYcABAISzHXokmhEc6cw8/s640/CSC_7556.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Powwowwing</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4r-mCP9w65xUKQyASBE9lM5kbbKnQRaOhR6-jGyS34OxZ0dck-Vau2BraxVIFV2xCnveRGPJIwK6MKNAqax2jTv8lGSW7oqNdMrmuekLjGXJiYfH82_huJtxJasUTMIx1o4ny8LbfX4/s1600/CSC_7555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4r-mCP9w65xUKQyASBE9lM5kbbKnQRaOhR6-jGyS34OxZ0dck-Vau2BraxVIFV2xCnveRGPJIwK6MKNAqax2jTv8lGSW7oqNdMrmuekLjGXJiYfH82_huJtxJasUTMIx1o4ny8LbfX4/s640/CSC_7555.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cool insect we found</td></tr>
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With no better route presenting itself in Chile and the traffic becoming unbearable (well, there was one route on trails, but it was too illegal), we decide to head east through an interesting border crossing requiring a ferry. Although all the ferries are booked when we arrive, because we have bikes, we are somehow prioritized over the many backpackers yearning for a spot. Just a few hours into our supposed all-day wait, and there we are, boating east towards Argentina!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYUpaj9PjMTBCTuD5uAlgRKmGeADdqrsDXxJ44WpS_8fWz9eaapGXpVAZEFwdQgCMXgN56qEzHwZqnGbShfPVoDbiWm82eiZW4TL_t126b0dj_TIFZgv_g1HS9QxJy7xxAjhWEqxTKAI/s1600/CSC_7558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYUpaj9PjMTBCTuD5uAlgRKmGeADdqrsDXxJ44WpS_8fWz9eaapGXpVAZEFwdQgCMXgN56qEzHwZqnGbShfPVoDbiWm82eiZW4TL_t126b0dj_TIFZgv_g1HS9QxJy7xxAjhWEqxTKAI/s640/CSC_7558.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmm... dust</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNvqcAoxEm_E1jLQcPxfnIyf1ZxWu4YvvQ5crX8bmeaFFBKjJqu_n8mS7MIF37ojJc4qEtIVfXLC6j0t8WsF33kOgmW5TXaWE-1jSyZweAp_aDiUMnUv5ml_7EnmBhHsrIvFozRO_51M/s1600/CSC_7560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNvqcAoxEm_E1jLQcPxfnIyf1ZxWu4YvvQ5crX8bmeaFFBKjJqu_n8mS7MIF37ojJc4qEtIVfXLC6j0t8WsF33kOgmW5TXaWE-1jSyZweAp_aDiUMnUv5ml_7EnmBhHsrIvFozRO_51M/s640/CSC_7560.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Campsites next to rivers every night is one benefit of cycling through the Los Rios region. Our biker gang from left to right: Danny, Tam, Gina, Chris, Hannah, and Dan</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_badKY1dQP5Az9LiA-Pd6tpO87OiG14sbqrqb_ccZKkF7qH64nkgF-CWtKVqEhwr8ECE8Zl_qSM7LupZcFMwm8NDRiIgDkHdmVNO8BsspsLxE8Yi_VAJHz1rc_jwFnOM-6fklNqscfU/s1600/CSC_7561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_badKY1dQP5Az9LiA-Pd6tpO87OiG14sbqrqb_ccZKkF7qH64nkgF-CWtKVqEhwr8ECE8Zl_qSM7LupZcFMwm8NDRiIgDkHdmVNO8BsspsLxE8Yi_VAJHz1rc_jwFnOM-6fklNqscfU/s640/CSC_7561.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hannah finding peace in the river</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKAZldHQlhxxV_i9rT-4msixVJUGdFHUXnRkVEv6AfHJgd2pJLecfX1kug4M4NYI5q4dJIE5NadqDMdeG9jxV9F_iBtHfptF9gh40rrtIMFBdzUAzebRIi_u1U0eaFHrrzmZ3sbCIRTE/s1600/CSC_7565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKAZldHQlhxxV_i9rT-4msixVJUGdFHUXnRkVEv6AfHJgd2pJLecfX1kug4M4NYI5q4dJIE5NadqDMdeG9jxV9F_iBtHfptF9gh40rrtIMFBdzUAzebRIi_u1U0eaFHrrzmZ3sbCIRTE/s640/CSC_7565.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8NrQyEz2xA0VSe3nqLwzCnRojxPlFQMtHlShHtro5WNRTn4TnrG3aR-9TKuOGaSpWLXSiFKEQVAnCWqM5eNEfr1Vtfk6gaKn_gkBCFo-nHYIt5egHvw7sV-AoAH7dhxnzDbk2fKfZjGs/s1600/CSC_7610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8NrQyEz2xA0VSe3nqLwzCnRojxPlFQMtHlShHtro5WNRTn4TnrG3aR-9TKuOGaSpWLXSiFKEQVAnCWqM5eNEfr1Vtfk6gaKn_gkBCFo-nHYIt5egHvw7sV-AoAH7dhxnzDbk2fKfZjGs/s640/CSC_7610.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crammed onto the ferry among automobiles parked carefully just inches apart</td></tr>
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Chile's border processes are organized and efficient, the guards businesslike, and we're happy to take advantage of the free wi-fi. On the contrary, Argentina's processes take ages. But we hardly notice because we're having a ball laughing and taking pictures with the border guards. I look out the window at one point and see one of the officials taking a spin on Gina's fat tire bike. For all we love about developed Chile, this unguarded, relaxed moment would never happen there (or in the US, France, Japan, etc). This moment, whatever it is, is the price of progress.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivK1aFUYKfFsaIFw53AH0tvlSLjkfYrynjyX4ksJYqt6Ps-dK2UYR3rPAs6KvfYbxuPcHHUc04FAorbkN7Uuv8ssCskHuxEtPWIYNmRkzivy2VFnL2TbM2RXfAtoHDHvENSwzq1O9vMDE/s1600/CSC_7608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivK1aFUYKfFsaIFw53AH0tvlSLjkfYrynjyX4ksJYqt6Ps-dK2UYR3rPAs6KvfYbxuPcHHUc04FAorbkN7Uuv8ssCskHuxEtPWIYNmRkzivy2VFnL2TbM2RXfAtoHDHvENSwzq1O9vMDE/s640/CSC_7608.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A treat in Argentina: new birds! Here, an ashy-headed goose</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGnMGCEi8BwFr30xHH98Y_BRR5Aod4jARl4Q-u5QSuboTZPZ4YojStCVMu1oh2CMbW3ZB8YTXXimp7e0UEIm2IUP3AUkeiv1zPLlsZq0OZbVWUm2tU7c6C2BKJm1uFllNR_gpOt7-N0g/s1600/IMG_4913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGnMGCEi8BwFr30xHH98Y_BRR5Aod4jARl4Q-u5QSuboTZPZ4YojStCVMu1oh2CMbW3ZB8YTXXimp7e0UEIm2IUP3AUkeiv1zPLlsZq0OZbVWUm2tU7c6C2BKJm1uFllNR_gpOt7-N0g/s640/IMG_4913.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great spot for a campsite! At Parque Nacional Lanin, photo courtesy of Hannah</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQvWpYotiRvGsuo8BkQwMNkVfUeq5MuXYIe57BPuvcAC72Hn9uY9NKX0oXp7UKoty0kxtmPXnJUYSCuXvy2-LqdgPpPas_RlL8Fy6LMYNpIshkOrP_rGBCyAhk9OWvx07vc6-Pc21vLk/s1600/CSC_7670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQvWpYotiRvGsuo8BkQwMNkVfUeq5MuXYIe57BPuvcAC72Hn9uY9NKX0oXp7UKoty0kxtmPXnJUYSCuXvy2-LqdgPpPas_RlL8Fy6LMYNpIshkOrP_rGBCyAhk9OWvx07vc6-Pc21vLk/s640/CSC_7670.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And our favorite thing about Argentina: inexpensive and delicious ice cream! </td></tr>
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Though we almost get run over by an out-of-control VW hatchback, we cruise happily the next afternoon into the relaxed town of San Martin de los Andes, the northern terminus of the Ruta de los Siete Lagos (Route of Seven Lakes), one of the most popular and scenic routes anywhere in Argentina. Look for stories and photos in the next post!<br />
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<u>Route Notes:</u><br />
- <b>Pucon to Coñaripe</b>: Though the main road east out of Pucon is heavily trafficked, there is a bike path for a good ways. We headed south to Coñaripe through Villarrica National Park, a route praised highly and with route notes <a href="http://velofreedom.bike/2015/02/16/snaking-south-a-lakeland-adventure/" target="_blank">here</a>. A few hundred meters of pushing are involved in the 4 km "intransitable" section, though I bet a strong rider on a light bike could ride all of it. Riding through the park was incredible - a smooth dirt track winding through dense, old-growth forest - but the 35 km to get there and the 25 or so on the other side were less enjoyable due to insane amounts of tourist traffic. Lots of washboard and dust. Outside of mid-summer (January and February) I would highly recommend this ride; during January and February, it still seems like the best option in the area. You can't escape the tourists.<br />
Coñaripe is basically an extended strip mall with shops, restaurants, accommodation, and probably an ATM and internet somewhere... I don't know, we left as fast as we could. About 5 km east of town the road crosses the Rio Llancahue. On the right, just before the bridge, there's a small path leading down. Follow it for a few meters then cross the stream on your left to find a perfect island campsite.<br />
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- <b>Coñaripe to Choshuenco</b>: Ripio begins just after the Rio Llancahue and continues all the way until a few km before Choshuenco. As before, tons of traffic and dust. Choshuenco has shops, restaurants, accommodation, and internet: slow wi-fi that you can pay for or free time on the computers at the hexagonal building on the left as you enter town. No ATM.<br />
The route from Enco to Riñihue along the southern shore of Lago Riñihue was followable, at least for a kilometer, but turned out to be too overgrown for us to pass. It also is apparently missing numerous large bridges, though none of the rivers appeared on the satellite imagery to be wide enough to be impassable.<br />
There is another, more direct route south that goes straight up the mountainside and also apparently involves a lot of bushwhacking; for route info, find Raúl, the guy who charges for parking at the beach. He knows the area well, and his brother has GPS points. We met some backpackers doing that route, so it's probably easy enough to follow without losing the trail.<br />
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- <b>Choshuenco to San Martin de los Andes (Argentina)</b>: All unpaved, dusty, and trafficked, although slightly fewer cars in the first Argentine kilometers. Neltume has all services except an ATM. Great camp spot by the river about 3 km after Neltume; look for a small road on your right. There are 2-4 ferries a day from Puerto Fuy depending on time of year and day of the week. Cost is 900 pesos (~US$1.30) per person and 4000 (~US$5.70) for each bike. Be aware, they fill up fast in the high season (January-March). Pedestrians have to book the day of - no reservations - and the office opens at 6 am. Tickets go fast, the guy told us, so probably be there at 5 to assure you will get a spot on the first ferry of the day. When we rolled up just after 7 am, all four departures of the day were completely sold out.<br />
There is a free campsite 2 km off the road at Parque Nacional Lanín just after entering Argentina.<br />
San Martin de los Andes is a nice town with a great supermarket, but prepare for very high prices. We happened to be there on a long weekend, so that certainly didn't help. 120-170 pesos (~US$9-12) per person to camp, 330 (~$US23) for a dorm in a hostel. We found the cheapest and quietest campsite by far, 25 pesos (~US$1.50) per person, located 6 km south of town and 100 meters down the road to Quila Quina on the right at the river.Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-62754628085754428752016-02-09T13:36:00.001-08:002016-02-14T16:04:13.639-08:00Hannah and Chris Join the Gang!Today you readers at home have the pleasure of special GUEST bloggers! You may be scrolling through the photos and asking yourselves, "who are these new people and what are those bikes? Have Tam and Danny been joined by professional bikepackers with loads of corporate sponsors?" <br />
Our names are Hannah and Chris. Don't be intimidated by our superior skill and high-end cycling equipment. We're just normal people, like you. You see, Chris, Danny, and Tamara used to work together at High Trails in Southern California. Hannah is Chris's lady friend.<br />
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Chris and Hannah were WWOOFing in Pucon, Chile and knew Danny and Tam were planning to come through on their journey at some point. The only problem was that neither party had reliable internet, so communication was difficult. On a Saturday afternoon, after an unexpected change of plans, we happened to check our Facebook messages around 8 pm. Lo and behold, Danny and Tamara had gotten into town on Friday and were planning to leave the next morning, as they had not heard from us! We quickly sent out a message and ran to meet them at the library where there was celebratory fist pumping, loud noises, and hugging. <br />
We all made our way up to our WOOFer cabin and had a sleepover and, in the morning, a pancake breakfast. After spending 12 hours with these two, it was decided: we were joining their biker gang. <br />
Danny and Tamara's response was simple and affirmative: "Let's find you some bikes!" <br />
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This set into motion the events of the next two and a half days, transforming our lives completely. Plane tickets were cancelled, excess gear, clothing and musical instruments sent home. We found used rental bikes at a shop in town - in fact the only two reasonably priced and functioning bikes in Pucon that fit us perfectly. Danny and Tam immediately got to work swapping out a fork and brakes on Hannah's bike and searching every bike shop for the proper parts we needed to literally get rolling. Meanwhile, Chris and Hannah went out on a mission to buy a tent, sleeping mats, bike shorts, bike racks, straps, helmets, and hose clamps. <br />
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It was a mad rush to find all of the materials in a tourist town on a Sunday. We needed one more day because Chris's bike was going to need some professional help (and a new fork and rear hub) from the only decent bike shop in town. By the end of Monday, both Chris and Hannah had complete touring set ups with their backpacks strapped to a bike rack and other bits of gear hose-clamped around the bike. The best addition would have to be the frame bags made of webbing that Danny and Tam engineered. Sunday morning we had decided to commit to this mission, and Monday afternoon we were rolling out of town. <br />
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We are completely incapable of building bikes and maintaining them on the road. We barely speak Spanish. We have little to offer in terms of route planning and decision making. We are in considerably worse shape then these two ultra bikers. Sometimes we don't know why they agreed to letting us join them, but we are so grateful. Until we improve in some of these categories, we will be compensating with singing, jokes and cookies. <br />
Chris and I were already traveling with loose plans and minimal things. We were both so surprised how liberating it was to abruptly change what little plans we had and reduce our possessions even further. We both had a few apprehensions about making this large change in pace of life and fully diving into the unknown. Those, however, were greatly outweighed by the excitement we felt about the journey and the trust we had in our experienced bikepacking guides. It was a great lesson for us to remember to say 'yes' to once in a lifetime opportunities and to drop attachment to ideas or things that weren't serving us. Viva la bici!! <br />
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As pictures come up, look for special mods to our aging Treks, like the amazing camel belly (patent pending) hydration system linking the frame bottle to thirsty rider with Tam's DIY ingenuity!<br />
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All the best,<br />
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Hannah and Chris<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chris, the Blue Bandit, and his steed, GreenGo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GreenGo and his stylish shades</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A happy Hannah with her fantastic bikepacking setup</td></tr>
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Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-80770308537502154782016-01-30T11:35:00.001-08:002016-02-01T10:17:14.051-08:00Fabulous Fotos From FatcyclingWe`ve been having a great time riding for the past few weeks with <a href="http://fatcycling.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Dan and Gina</a>. As a bonus, because Dan is a legitimate photographer, we now have some sweet photos of us! Check them out below.<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny at El Tromen</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam and Gina squaring off (Tam on Gina`s fatbike)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny carrying up Copahue</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smoky volcano singletrack</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helping out with a horse</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes you gotta push</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kickin` up some dust</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam shredding up some singletrack</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam making up her own carry method to cross this river</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrj14dKrl_nWPWcItcQrt4NaReaaSaoHprACol4VYBPbA5i3VeQOqg4YVBwGzUulXqFDgdEjCl3u7ve6Gv0mfEkuGiaekpcfhhiUrKDgJznxiAx19iC4umvHOSU9vmt7RA0hJzjPDsq9U/s1600/dscf3888-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrj14dKrl_nWPWcItcQrt4NaReaaSaoHprACol4VYBPbA5i3VeQOqg4YVBwGzUulXqFDgdEjCl3u7ve6Gv0mfEkuGiaekpcfhhiUrKDgJznxiAx19iC4umvHOSU9vmt7RA0hJzjPDsq9U/s640/dscf3888-edit.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful trails</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg754G36NM-kMFpgMgWrom9EQLX1PgNPtUARws8oL_gLUK0aHqXcaqWtoPX0N7l8URJrhGu4phT5AleKPuM6OracGkt28JTkpAQGpbIbX_et69ORQaqMFitzpSO-U9ZeYf54tS9FW3TeCo/s1600/dscf3897-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg754G36NM-kMFpgMgWrom9EQLX1PgNPtUARws8oL_gLUK0aHqXcaqWtoPX0N7l8URJrhGu4phT5AleKPuM6OracGkt28JTkpAQGpbIbX_et69ORQaqMFitzpSO-U9ZeYf54tS9FW3TeCo/s640/dscf3897-edit.jpg" width="452"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arm workout for the day</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib98LPIq1uraK8RO40eGHEolFMWteXpacSgq1icRCiA8FPsMDTSnt80ZsanRGXXBd_-ROcFx-5PkjMROc9fuX4nAcwgz3CTgc4bQQtotpqZHogX2RBHrHfO4L66mJbv5eRdLIwPuPQ-d0/s1600/dscf3942-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib98LPIq1uraK8RO40eGHEolFMWteXpacSgq1icRCiA8FPsMDTSnt80ZsanRGXXBd_-ROcFx-5PkjMROc9fuX4nAcwgz3CTgc4bQQtotpqZHogX2RBHrHfO4L66mJbv5eRdLIwPuPQ-d0/s640/dscf3942-edit.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More beautiful trails</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg4jI5RWb3JtyTA5k39nh-n76YbnhwDXp2GwhFEo3WJM3eNgCLZgbuv70EGvYGZFdsgy1L3TUKcRgisp4HJ1eCxC4oPRs_LDd69ZCWIhS_E3mi9z8xhbwMG4FIW6ekz6hl1w7tOvi2oAI/s1600/dscf3990-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg4jI5RWb3JtyTA5k39nh-n76YbnhwDXp2GwhFEo3WJM3eNgCLZgbuv70EGvYGZFdsgy1L3TUKcRgisp4HJ1eCxC4oPRs_LDd69ZCWIhS_E3mi9z8xhbwMG4FIW6ekz6hl1w7tOvi2oAI/s640/dscf3990-edit.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We bought pasta in a small shop to try out the stove thing for a few days... Tam`s face says it all</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WFu4wxgxjtBCIqFplF1wYgG3OUlxUZWLqARQ1yzKXcFJQ7z5j-YsXIbHrP8Yq8HvQxcK_Uxs_9eNSQVl0dF30Ta8xKEq2FcUitp50KpY_AO0-t60I7L5ZuXH7Y_iwrpNnFsuBlkYP9M/s1600/dscf4042-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7WFu4wxgxjtBCIqFplF1wYgG3OUlxUZWLqARQ1yzKXcFJQ7z5j-YsXIbHrP8Yq8HvQxcK_Uxs_9eNSQVl0dF30Ta8xKEq2FcUitp50KpY_AO0-t60I7L5ZuXH7Y_iwrpNnFsuBlkYP9M/s640/dscf4042-edit.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Danny and Gina cruising up near a volcano</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6f0RvlPbqnsTunrDRYsIoOr8T2G8nRqy-Vi02qrnoAY6YPNPhdcOUrYZrBZ7DxnAmvkoL2YMA2sATQc8QCcdsqM61g2E7gMfmFH_TB4qu9B73Izk6MQlWt7V1BSYFSSHfSCE_dFcu5vs/s1600/dscf4048-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6f0RvlPbqnsTunrDRYsIoOr8T2G8nRqy-Vi02qrnoAY6YPNPhdcOUrYZrBZ7DxnAmvkoL2YMA2sATQc8QCcdsqM61g2E7gMfmFH_TB4qu9B73Izk6MQlWt7V1BSYFSSHfSCE_dFcu5vs/s640/dscf4048-edit.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some crazy people in front of Volcan Lonquimay</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuppc1xTxEqVb8KJPeOH2WXvAQ8CfpwoOIZJhlP06m5o3RAdI_qld8DgeFPDgQxewj5zjV-w_f2ZHjE1hRXN59XVsPo1DLgCK63r-7whsd6IDNuMcBc8Z5IO60yP9xE4-pQaLwwqRHt9A/s1600/dscf4051-edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuppc1xTxEqVb8KJPeOH2WXvAQ8CfpwoOIZJhlP06m5o3RAdI_qld8DgeFPDgQxewj5zjV-w_f2ZHjE1hRXN59XVsPo1DLgCK63r-7whsd6IDNuMcBc8Z5IO60yP9xE4-pQaLwwqRHt9A/s640/dscf4051-edit.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gotta love the vistas of Patagonia</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br></div>Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-76086939821946889992016-01-30T10:39:00.000-08:002016-04-27T08:46:01.282-07:00Monkey Puzzles and Mudslides, January 26th-29th<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Lonquimay-Quinquén-Melipeuco-Cunco-Trafanpulli-Caburgua-Pucón</i></div>
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It`s sad to say goodbye to our wonderful little cabaña in Lonquimay and the cute lady who runs the place, but we're always excited to get on the road again. Soon we`re back on a remote dirt track that, unfortunately, has a lot of traffic. I guess that's what happens when you're traveling during summer vacation in a country where poeople can afford personal cars. In many ways, in Chile, I feel like we're back in North America.<br />
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Happily, we lose the traffic when we turn onto an even smaller dirt road that takes us through tunnels of monkey puzzle trees, along gentle meadows, and across muddy streams. In the afternoon we reach a section of forest that has been recently burnt, giving the impression that it's autumn.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9T3TzmT5x13E809RHQPyDHj2dodbAVlzfZWm8LS5LQc7_cDlF6x0OUee7uFwelvNvYId0uNk1oJ4N4sNv4M3pXQsKNrNpFnLmjM7Z6jfQJBhX8smSVqPw2ai7kvlT2CS_3PoBWedYg4/s1600/CSC_7079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9T3TzmT5x13E809RHQPyDHj2dodbAVlzfZWm8LS5LQc7_cDlF6x0OUee7uFwelvNvYId0uNk1oJ4N4sNv4M3pXQsKNrNpFnLmjM7Z6jfQJBhX8smSVqPw2ai7kvlT2CS_3PoBWedYg4/s640/CSC_7079.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding through monkey puzzle tree forest</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkqhtKKkc5DYbcgyfKLWPCZvYcGQA0gqGSs_UFXA3bAzEFTcwG1NB06CBdbU9zyqRC98IBpbNuKOjVWNBOjxQOT3iVIQWr2N6BZffWtsgohmyk0xL9Ao_2YIyn3uw6yZJ80yHAFI5U7c/s1600/CSC_7078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkqhtKKkc5DYbcgyfKLWPCZvYcGQA0gqGSs_UFXA3bAzEFTcwG1NB06CBdbU9zyqRC98IBpbNuKOjVWNBOjxQOT3iVIQWr2N6BZffWtsgohmyk0xL9Ao_2YIyn3uw6yZJ80yHAFI5U7c/s640/CSC_7078.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The textured bark of the araucaria</td></tr>
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As we descend through a striking granite canyon, we are surprised to encounter a group of guys with a large rifle set up on a tripod. It seems to be aimed at a coke bottle on the bridge? We're not sure what to make of them, but they turn out to be a funny and helpful bunch. They recommend a camp spot, and we find an even better one: soft pine needles blanketing the flat banks of a clear-flowing river, and a big log to sit on. <br />
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It's tough to start the next day when everything seems to be going wrong. I notice that some creature seems to have chewed a large hole in the side of my plastic bowl overnight, one of our stakes is so stuck in the ground that it takes five minutes to get it out, and my bottle cage is falling off my bike. Luckily, the day turns around for the better as we begin to bike and spot a double rainbow arching over the sky. As we get the camera out to take a photo, it vanishes again into the mist.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHiq44zNNbIO_T1bcCZmC27VA3Ig8E3LpmgdX8cS0OVylGIUsVQuXIf6edTgkR6jfnEvt54hFFypdC18NOKpm049vSlB9jQTBjkkgslhyphenhyphenRCpVL3xEuK8zhq5DDA7XeUa5xNf0mYN2veSk/s1600/CSC_7219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHiq44zNNbIO_T1bcCZmC27VA3Ig8E3LpmgdX8cS0OVylGIUsVQuXIf6edTgkR6jfnEvt54hFFypdC18NOKpm049vSlB9jQTBjkkgslhyphenhyphenRCpVL3xEuK8zhq5DDA7XeUa5xNf0mYN2veSk/s640/CSC_7219.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mysterious hole in Tam`s bowl</td></tr>
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It's not long before we're in our first small town. When we see a post office, we stop to mail my journal home and Danny's postcard. The "post office" is a tiny room scattered with papers and envelopes. I imagine that if you looked under some of these stacks, you could find things from hundreds of years ago. I'm honestly a bit apprehensive to mail anything here, especially because the elderly man hunched behind the counter doesn't appear to hear me when I say "<i>buenos dias." </i>My fears subside, however, when he comes over to the counter and looks up at me with twinkling eyes behind tiny round glasses. He helps me mail my stuff and makes me laugh at every step of the process. What a funny character.<br />
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It's been spitting rain all day, but it makes up its mind to really pour in the afternoon. We splash through another town and then down to Lago Colico, where we find a delightful covered pavilion. None of us likes to pay for camping, but a covered dry area to set up the tents is worth it today. Plus, it's a beautiful setting.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMbyrJnGoGSO7VL5sn4CqJ42zaGuJlcayf6Y1CbqCcTMYCZRx5kLw6o4QGAMERjihtOwI-yn8POuZ9qHxphQM3YToWby_EU33HxJWnMnzCaqxXIhmH9P5c9GITwBaWCzsEj1jI8gyQGg/s1600/CSC_7238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMbyrJnGoGSO7VL5sn4CqJ42zaGuJlcayf6Y1CbqCcTMYCZRx5kLw6o4QGAMERjihtOwI-yn8POuZ9qHxphQM3YToWby_EU33HxJWnMnzCaqxXIhmH9P5c9GITwBaWCzsEj1jI8gyQGg/s640/CSC_7238.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chainlink railing at Colico showing off newly acquired water droplets</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWGj7okfGLoy9JCX2RpcsL942L73CK77SAb52IWvGc7q6i0ja7bJEqTUQDhI85Keu2aK4CalFkRw5dVNO3WvKtnJXJv03Y7IDOQ1LqqfE7oIjc7XT81gXhvvOF71me-YJZkgz94cJM3g/s1600/CSC_7206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidWGj7okfGLoy9JCX2RpcsL942L73CK77SAb52IWvGc7q6i0ja7bJEqTUQDhI85Keu2aK4CalFkRw5dVNO3WvKtnJXJv03Y7IDOQ1LqqfE7oIjc7XT81gXhvvOF71me-YJZkgz94cJM3g/s640/CSC_7206.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dock at Puerto Puma. Taken by Tam</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7jkVogy6RT08qrKSPrnFc4OEueQ1N7IDGK6bLEANKnG1OsWpr7czGEqYa-LJYH87ZY3wCHDI1XcRQKYYbVvD8SsW_BUieQrEeI_9voprlNlt9cMU_za1k6R-a-CIRE0I-1GXcvONHmo/s1600/CSC_7231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7jkVogy6RT08qrKSPrnFc4OEueQ1N7IDGK6bLEANKnG1OsWpr7czGEqYa-LJYH87ZY3wCHDI1XcRQKYYbVvD8SsW_BUieQrEeI_9voprlNlt9cMU_za1k6R-a-CIRE0I-1GXcvONHmo/s640/CSC_7231.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A blue-and-white swallow in the rain</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5N1S7__Ivy36nRkMD_R3RPtXS36KpYANDbNW_G_nThvQ6gEMkOnSGQ87hiURglne10zIsl6cfyV9pNiuXzzKAo3z_xs6Zvqw6LMjNA5HtHJ51mIORHShTEe-ziujNIEGccvHmIfu-xg/s1600/CSC_7233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq5N1S7__Ivy36nRkMD_R3RPtXS36KpYANDbNW_G_nThvQ6gEMkOnSGQ87hiURglne10zIsl6cfyV9pNiuXzzKAo3z_xs6Zvqw6LMjNA5HtHJ51mIORHShTEe-ziujNIEGccvHmIfu-xg/s640/CSC_7233.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picturesque little house near our campsite</td></tr>
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We wake up to clearing fog and some nice views of the lake. The main road is a bit trafficked, so we're happy to turn off onto a smaller route, and discover some blackberries along the way! Not many are black and ripe, but we still immensely enjoy the few we find. It seems so weird to me that it's the beginning of blackberry season here, and it's January. The reversed seasons are still throwing me for a loop, but after being in the tropics for almost the whole last year, we`re happy to have any seasons.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSow2bnQzAN039dO1lEz8Jt8YfoBWYWU0_e1kAAepCgFZS_0EaxT3O8oAwkowNVzblE3Wz7cMijcJF5CC3kMqgG_GqFB5tHJ_dCIUoq_6bb77aXfTtMVkX6eyy4m8TK2VxoTqajs8LvlQ/s1600/CSC_7283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSow2bnQzAN039dO1lEz8Jt8YfoBWYWU0_e1kAAepCgFZS_0EaxT3O8oAwkowNVzblE3Wz7cMijcJF5CC3kMqgG_GqFB5tHJ_dCIUoq_6bb77aXfTtMVkX6eyy4m8TK2VxoTqajs8LvlQ/s640/CSC_7283.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lago Colico in the morning light</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLg5JRkn648dwX9JcF1CXSR2eeuuu2SyR2IFO5BcMVoVlM9klLbWt-H7Mp9lr3VwA5OEQ01NaQnhQDO7HEo9ESfIBBmeTTpIuHFUy3s3oaYXWl0jfs-d128lGZW0TN3DGPaT_khhI31Qc/s1600/CSC_7294.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLg5JRkn648dwX9JcF1CXSR2eeuuu2SyR2IFO5BcMVoVlM9klLbWt-H7Mp9lr3VwA5OEQ01NaQnhQDO7HEo9ESfIBBmeTTpIuHFUy3s3oaYXWl0jfs-d128lGZW0TN3DGPaT_khhI31Qc/s640/CSC_7294.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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Late morning we turn onto a trail. We've heard that this route is transitable by jeep and it's the most direct route south to Pucon. How bad can it be? It seems that, again, our information sources were unreliable. The track is wide enough for a vehicle but certainly untransitable due to its extreme 4x4 nature. We traverse deep mud pits, piles of large logs, wide rivers, and steep rocky hills. We do our best to stay motivated by singing songs, but it's still a long and exhausting climb to the top of the pass. Just before the top, we find a grassy area to stop and collapse for the night.<br />
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The morning brings us blue skies and better riding. We have a big descent, and although our trail is still extraordinarily muddy, it's mostly ridable with numerous sections of incredible mountain biking. Woohoo!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8m2IAD9TXRpXWDGbfHDGfvkZDLnFDGGfM9ATDrDGFIOXwYHP5voez7Ioo-RgyJdvlY6MBFSE4sNq6cMyLjjGSYf08XcyhRqOGFQ9FzxMw_7H4CsVUNfwOmQwUFSWiwcYe-lDh9ndDT0/s1600/CSC_7346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8m2IAD9TXRpXWDGbfHDGfvkZDLnFDGGfM9ATDrDGFIOXwYHP5voez7Ioo-RgyJdvlY6MBFSE4sNq6cMyLjjGSYf08XcyhRqOGFQ9FzxMw_7H4CsVUNfwOmQwUFSWiwcYe-lDh9ndDT0/s640/CSC_7346.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam choosing the best line</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7uv-464VldmLjwklq-roVE2ksGcFDeeLLOSLUQKA1ZcnDFIhIF6OScsUjAk1PRecp1aNIhJxjyNjkoJn4CSHyCNubtsj7_Qd07tel8DRn8SPJL42U43TKSmKoj-Qwe7IJhRKrTYapA0/s1600/CSC_7284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr7uv-464VldmLjwklq-roVE2ksGcFDeeLLOSLUQKA1ZcnDFIhIF6OScsUjAk1PRecp1aNIhJxjyNjkoJn4CSHyCNubtsj7_Qd07tel8DRn8SPJL42U43TKSmKoj-Qwe7IJhRKrTYapA0/s640/CSC_7284.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dan descending through the forest</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinP-3kL1kyJRK0G-zA3iFa9RRRsYVTOoPK9yQ13vq2MLn6HAdUdrioiwksMhcWTsUIlQO2SpHG_E1YUKG_uwspdN607zhQ6mBSNGXJRpFmKeZ99EuBOMctURGMmd2v6SQZEqb7pzrzm8o/s1600/CSC_7290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinP-3kL1kyJRK0G-zA3iFa9RRRsYVTOoPK9yQ13vq2MLn6HAdUdrioiwksMhcWTsUIlQO2SpHG_E1YUKG_uwspdN607zhQ6mBSNGXJRpFmKeZ99EuBOMctURGMmd2v6SQZEqb7pzrzm8o/s640/CSC_7290.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picturesque little house we came across</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YnJuXPFNcaepo0d6DdYu867ZxbjP_s9wZWVEkweocS2FS6QiXIub3pTIXdCH-X6BQNWxd348GDnPqVNRr24EjupsJLtFbBkh3z70_3Qnz_T9sSADjC2at2B-cigt_k6_9M1HxOv9T5s/s1600/CSC_7359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3YnJuXPFNcaepo0d6DdYu867ZxbjP_s9wZWVEkweocS2FS6QiXIub3pTIXdCH-X6BQNWxd348GDnPqVNRr24EjupsJLtFbBkh3z70_3Qnz_T9sSADjC2at2B-cigt_k6_9M1HxOv9T5s/s640/CSC_7359.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How you know you`ve chosen a good route: lots of mud on the bike</td></tr>
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A dirt back road brings us to the outskirts of Pucon where we pick up a bike lane. Immediately we are overwhelmed by touristy chaos. After the tranquility of where we`ve been, the traffic, the crowds, the hubbub of enormous supermarkets, everything much more expensive than it has been, it`s a lot to take in. We hang out in front of the library using the wi-fi, eating lots of fruit, people-watching, and trying to figure out where to stay the night. All the hotel rates are comparable to what you`d find in North America, aka too expensive, and we have a hard time explaining to people that we can afford to head to a campground but would rather not; why pay an arm and a leg to stay in a noisy place with no amenities?<br />
People continually brush us off until a nice German lady comes to our rescue, directing us to a river a few fence hops away, a peaceful public tract of land amidst a checkerboard of private plots. Unfortunately, while chatting with us, her backpack is stolen out of her car just a few feet away. The first friendly person we`ve met, and this is what she gets. It`s safe to say that Pucon is not our favorite place, but it sure is scenic!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i3BQi8sqbR1ypgm02KrMRaCLduFA8j361TQyWHmJTynwPkfvwNI1Zs3Ak_MLyLG1RUu0eKcTUUA9OoeQ49smwQYuVj2v5fzYnJT2cV2oBh8Dk8CjbCysl0EGsfODRlxGHDDi-sg7cWo/s1600/CSC_7360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i3BQi8sqbR1ypgm02KrMRaCLduFA8j361TQyWHmJTynwPkfvwNI1Zs3Ak_MLyLG1RUu0eKcTUUA9OoeQ49smwQYuVj2v5fzYnJT2cV2oBh8Dk8CjbCysl0EGsfODRlxGHDDi-sg7cWo/s640/CSC_7360.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Volcan Villarrica overlooking Pucon</td></tr>
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Route Notes:<br />
- <b>Lonquimay to Melipeuco: </b>Perhaps the nicest bit of riding on the Monkey Puzzle Trail through the China Muerte Reserve: beautiful, quiet, smooth dirt roads. Melipeuco is a decent-sized town with all amenities and open wi-fi in the plaza.<br />
- <b>Melipeuco to Trafanpulli: </b>We continued on the pavement to Cunco then headed south to Puerto Puma. The tarmac turns to smooth <i>ripio</i> at Lago Colico. Some traffic, most appeared to be tourists. Probably a very quiet route in winter. Trafanpulli, on the northeast side of Lago Colico, is not really a place, just a few houses here and there, but it marked our turnoff.<br />
- <b>Trafanpulli to Pucon: </b>We took an adventurous shortcut directly to Lago Caburgua rather than staying on the main road through Reigolil and Curarrehue. It`s marked as a trail on Open Maps and is easy to find and follow (with GPS). There is a solid climb from 350 meters to 1140 over 14 kilometers, of which maybe 2/3 is ridable, the rest being too steep, too rocky, too muddy, or all three. The 6 km descent to Lago Caburgua is about 90% ridable, more for a strong rider. Expect mud if it has rained in the past few days.<br />
With no views, this route may be less scenic than the long way on the road, but it certainly was more interesting! We began the ascent around lunchtime and reached the top around camp time, so the whole thing, Colico to Caburgua, is definitely doable in a day.<br />
Once at Caburgua, there is a great dirt alternative to the congested, narrow highway into Pucon. Turn right before the turnoff to Ojos del Caburgua, and ignore the signs directing you back to the main road. Best to have a GPS, as there are lots of little tracks going nowhere.<br />
Contact us for information on a free, quiet camp spot just a few kilometers from Pucon. I`d rather not post it here, as it`s probably illegal.Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10407730675071801678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-75322478923368216392016-01-30T10:38:00.001-08:002016-01-30T11:00:09.446-08:00Bodega Calle<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAR5VpJTOoQpkIBne5BnoUj9-FhxHt66Sr40AgAee6G-vYNQZLjQIugWX3O0AFIZO6FUESIbICqr_aJHWNQpHlH3MHXpzEW9nd7lpZ-Z_Kk2kjJHXI5zwNRnpafZPgKk7jZMkzNdUoiJk/s1600/CSC_6379-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAR5VpJTOoQpkIBne5BnoUj9-FhxHt66Sr40AgAee6G-vYNQZLjQIugWX3O0AFIZO6FUESIbICqr_aJHWNQpHlH3MHXpzEW9nd7lpZ-Z_Kk2kjJHXI5zwNRnpafZPgKk7jZMkzNdUoiJk/s640/CSC_6379-Edit.jpg" width="412" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to the most beautiful place in Mendoza</td></tr>
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<b>A Fortunate Meeting</b><br />
Last year while hiking near Bend, Oregon, Danny met a friendly guy named Kirk who happened to be hiking at the same pace. Kirk owns a winery just south of Mendoza and invited us to visit if we ever made it there. We love unexpected connections, and over a year later we finally got the chance to take Kirk up on his generous offer. We're far south of Mendoza now, but we wanted to put up this special post to commemorate our restful, happy few days at the winery.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnLzQIrYSKCQ0dSkIthnbkBaUtPIyolcq8OGx84raXDC1yn4-El9xsoYLiBZ-ZqeTlsLGUWgaqxRNHLlyGeaYOEcWhoz9lD9NZhh2NbwjJjd1OJu9PvMmpEdpBdp5iPNci4RBdzByH1s/s1600/CSC_6362-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvnLzQIrYSKCQ0dSkIthnbkBaUtPIyolcq8OGx84raXDC1yn4-El9xsoYLiBZ-ZqeTlsLGUWgaqxRNHLlyGeaYOEcWhoz9lD9NZhh2NbwjJjd1OJu9PvMmpEdpBdp5iPNci4RBdzByH1s/s640/CSC_6362-Edit.jpg" width="414" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">154 Alberti: the street address of the winery and the name of their award-winning Malbec</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigl2LPZf5mKf0O1QL01VpVo3MepZwoSAKYXVITX8-bCFed6ZG8GaSVx_Yyv-o2Yeki6aS7ccsjEqfVe9hsluP9BqyZWrSJ3NGfXCutzy9LCBL-sKeAg-sF_Se1NCVV1ni0c2Tws9m59vY/s1600/CSC_6391-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="516" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigl2LPZf5mKf0O1QL01VpVo3MepZwoSAKYXVITX8-bCFed6ZG8GaSVx_Yyv-o2Yeki6aS7ccsjEqfVe9hsluP9BqyZWrSJ3NGfXCutzy9LCBL-sKeAg-sF_Se1NCVV1ni0c2Tws9m59vY/s640/CSC_6391-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An oak barrel, a frequent sight in these parts</td></tr>
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<br />
<b>The Story</b><br />
When we arrive outside the gates of Bodega Calle, we are greeted by stylish Romina who welcomes us like we are old friends. The winery is spectacularly beautiful. The main room of the chalet has a long table under large windows overlooking grapes growing in the backyard. A side room has a bar for tasting and an excellent stereo. Next to the house is the bodega, where the wine is produced. The moment we walk inside our noses fill with the smell of aged wine. Walking the the medieval-looking passageways, we admire the oak barrels filled with wine then head upstairs to poke our heads inside giant concrete tanks where the grapes are added after the harvest. How do you know when the wine has aged sufficiently to move it to the barrels downstairs? You just know. Some sort of wine magic takes place here.<br />
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We spend two fantastic days in this little paradise, using the kitchen to cook up gourmet meals and then enjoying them with fine wines. We know nothing about wine, but the stuff they produce here tastes amazing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbM7_EkHcLnhvhjXa6vVA_XnF3z-jAXWFAeLAWqKLkdp4ICrCS-T7iuJdQipHQNOL33h1gh8VJwfB2dfXfWJzKz0vBZ6MstbtQ9tIecqzZCYLFwUKd_wwQYYQJp9ERBXA2AJjOdQ8zE20/s1600/CSC_6382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbM7_EkHcLnhvhjXa6vVA_XnF3z-jAXWFAeLAWqKLkdp4ICrCS-T7iuJdQipHQNOL33h1gh8VJwfB2dfXfWJzKz0vBZ6MstbtQ9tIecqzZCYLFwUKd_wwQYYQJp9ERBXA2AJjOdQ8zE20/s640/CSC_6382.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everything starts with these beautiful grapes...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSGkB7ceSqNNWxsMtHgT7govOwb2X5xqNfIIzOAyngj5XAYBXN1W0wCNpoc14tjAn4WSc8CnBecxQhdiAwVN0xiPVYLqzdXXDakL7772_QYm7aeYsAT-bjCNpqROupKJF3YmRuAxxb5vQ/s1600/CSC_6376-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSGkB7ceSqNNWxsMtHgT7govOwb2X5xqNfIIzOAyngj5XAYBXN1W0wCNpoc14tjAn4WSc8CnBecxQhdiAwVN0xiPVYLqzdXXDakL7772_QYm7aeYsAT-bjCNpqROupKJF3YmRuAxxb5vQ/s640/CSC_6376-Edit.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...which are brought in here...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYAn-f9OYYOyvFOmRrNiTR092L17SZHo20krMvZ4hYDnEHu06MXteImQhJq82WyZ0YKopqZXiABwsoLElNCGT7rS4AbGSxOSi52mR9IAyHu-hK0b0oa4-pOqh1TOBGYh5D7A5iRVDCyM/s1600/CSC_6396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCYAn-f9OYYOyvFOmRrNiTR092L17SZHo20krMvZ4hYDnEHu06MXteImQhJq82WyZ0YKopqZXiABwsoLElNCGT7rS4AbGSxOSi52mR9IAyHu-hK0b0oa4-pOqh1TOBGYh5D7A5iRVDCyM/s640/CSC_6396.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...with the help of some fancy machinery...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLv9N89m2ErZMzejqbnrOoXT9vgF00uxwmTcZpreAHQjwlWy3DAIKCUPGsubcuRQaczLKFY2UHdscZb_nW7Z4zqHFD0i3FNORHJoRy2mxGoNQrgV4YzxsOPDwVn3D8vVEicqx5qOX5A6Q/s1600/CSC_6377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLv9N89m2ErZMzejqbnrOoXT9vgF00uxwmTcZpreAHQjwlWy3DAIKCUPGsubcuRQaczLKFY2UHdscZb_nW7Z4zqHFD0i3FNORHJoRy2mxGoNQrgV4YzxsOPDwVn3D8vVEicqx5qOX5A6Q/s640/CSC_6377.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...to enjoy some time in lovely oak barrels...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6MrHaZ4V9GGzLLt1G9cZwEjUHt8sZ6CW4q89cRV6-jSKQB0my3az4lDzhXO9iOKbSW6ZoEjsv4x8GfGnuNI3m465_1efh6Hyq2Xf0O0-0OyintUYR9Z7btzg97mBMQHfeN4flSq8GyDA/s1600/CSC_6397-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6MrHaZ4V9GGzLLt1G9cZwEjUHt8sZ6CW4q89cRV6-jSKQB0my3az4lDzhXO9iOKbSW6ZoEjsv4x8GfGnuNI3m465_1efh6Hyq2Xf0O0-0OyintUYR9Z7btzg97mBMQHfeN4flSq8GyDA/s640/CSC_6397-Edit.jpg" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and then even more time in more lovely oak barrels...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipH6KtwFMdwCYAedH4NYmq3L_-T9nQkjGNnbEuvXAYFkvwJSnVKaepvArFfA7PEwr6kUIgq8eAUYCA-9g9Ercz3bj8Mts87Z3LsI5XCPzAhe4mG433SypPb7DuiUCInl6VmMeiUQWWCe0/s1600/CSC_6361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipH6KtwFMdwCYAedH4NYmq3L_-T9nQkjGNnbEuvXAYFkvwJSnVKaepvArFfA7PEwr6kUIgq8eAUYCA-9g9Ercz3bj8Mts87Z3LsI5XCPzAhe4mG433SypPb7DuiUCInl6VmMeiUQWWCe0/s640/CSC_6361.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...before making their way into stylish bottles... </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJr7uCbb2VVAfqOH8_9ECIBAukGk9UxkZVckqgEEEJSxFSF3RXHChkW3Ixjc2-by0PzU06haxrBXqVlOf38cqTbUxWJn5_LNKJQoZfXx4aNRBH-2R4QnpNAwnQKq11u1-DDKC1IR4TJc/s1600/CSC_6359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJr7uCbb2VVAfqOH8_9ECIBAukGk9UxkZVckqgEEEJSxFSF3RXHChkW3Ixjc2-by0PzU06haxrBXqVlOf38cqTbUxWJn5_LNKJQoZfXx4aNRBH-2R4QnpNAwnQKq11u1-DDKC1IR4TJc/s640/CSC_6359.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and finally providing the perfect complement to gourmet, homemade pizza. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpruVkJeHGteWxpXc5JMYZ4fBdmI4RnOvrhkPiX30eRPXtiIKpcjr7F9NtvZavGeSsjQEZbOESzKW6nBl_03FeU20XENi5q4oyC1GeTXNp2T0VBRQaHxongMfzlTIFqEcWkRzchnc5d7Q/s1600/CSC_6368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpruVkJeHGteWxpXc5JMYZ4fBdmI4RnOvrhkPiX30eRPXtiIKpcjr7F9NtvZavGeSsjQEZbOESzKW6nBl_03FeU20XENi5q4oyC1GeTXNp2T0VBRQaHxongMfzlTIFqEcWkRzchnc5d7Q/s640/CSC_6368.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most important lesson we learned</td></tr>
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We can't give enough thanks to Kirk and Romina for sharing this incredible space and their tasty fine wines!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KeawRAOJhf9fsFB3GBSci_V7Eymcbs-owgXwLAuygJUrVbrZ3PaFWi7XNamw85xo7f136sjO3YSPE-HJzKDfszufQcZwqeOtCHtCL0NsO6LOK2IkSc-8pZWfLi7GoaVZc-BpsB0owUk/s1600/image+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KeawRAOJhf9fsFB3GBSci_V7Eymcbs-owgXwLAuygJUrVbrZ3PaFWi7XNamw85xo7f136sjO3YSPE-HJzKDfszufQcZwqeOtCHtCL0NsO6LOK2IkSc-8pZWfLi7GoaVZc-BpsB0owUk/s320/image+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gracias, Romina!</td></tr>
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<br />Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-82207236685416615922016-01-25T12:47:00.001-08:002016-04-27T08:46:44.693-07:00When Bikes Become Backpacks: Bushwhacking Our Way Into Chile. January6th-25th<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Chos Malal-El Cholar-El Huecú-Copahue-Trapa Trapa (Chile)-Chequenco-Lolco-Malalcahuello</i></div>
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We decide that it's not worth it to cycle out of Mendoza. The next section along the 40 is dry, hot, and flat, and we don't feel like we would get much out of it. The challenge we are looking for lies down south in the Lakes District and Patagonia. We're not sure how things are going to work out, because not a single bus company wants to let us take our bikes on a bus, but we finagle our way onto a bus that eventually dumps us out on a dark street corner in a tiny town at 4:30 am.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwxQduuJK5H4xes1-noeCBwkYkCQ_IH2LW4USFjOvnFZr_McK9GGhWwUBpT0cQo7TsGxqxu6NXamSnHM2AyVnKxQKqaa8iyrn2OWvLNCoLYwtJ-0ZH0Pb2URxFkp8QMdcvGSp3GO67D4/s1600/CSC_6358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwxQduuJK5H4xes1-noeCBwkYkCQ_IH2LW4USFjOvnFZr_McK9GGhWwUBpT0cQo7TsGxqxu6NXamSnHM2AyVnKxQKqaa8iyrn2OWvLNCoLYwtJ-0ZH0Pb2URxFkp8QMdcvGSp3GO67D4/s640/CSC_6358.JPG" width="424" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">In Mendoza, the dilemma of our room being too hot with the window closed or having too many bugs with it open leaves us with the natural solution: our airy, mesh tent set up on the floor</span></td></tr>
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The next morning we spot an ancient-looking RV that has pulled up along the plaza. When we walk by we are greeted by Jaime and Myrna, who quickly become our new best friends. A couple of octogenarians from the coast of Argentina, they've been traveling around for years in this RV and happen to be heading the same way we are. Soon our bikes are loaded up inside and we're cruising (very, very slowly) to Chos Malal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtlLVdlvEn4D3M440SuQ2EFMeOuCyqMOwUx4x7dzczm_yY2qB_17ezDmeT0xKgh4XppNAaW9xEFrNHCf1zxTbvQgXvkr_I5RYGO60d1G8EhfkKRaLy99jm9fPfuzeM_gx872zjpMZ-qA/s1600/CSC_6581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZtlLVdlvEn4D3M440SuQ2EFMeOuCyqMOwUx4x7dzczm_yY2qB_17ezDmeT0xKgh4XppNAaW9xEFrNHCf1zxTbvQgXvkr_I5RYGO60d1G8EhfkKRaLy99jm9fPfuzeM_gx872zjpMZ-qA/s640/CSC_6581.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">With Myrna in front of the classy old rig</span></td></tr>
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We realize when we arrive in Chos Malal that our friends Dan and Gina are currently out at a nearby provincial park, El Tromen. With the help of the fantastic park rangers, soon we are out there as well, enjoying the scenic landscape and reuniting with old friends.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr74cTZJSE-GQcmiFCXBD1myXgPEMQU_lMj0WJhyo1Nse0K7kf4Vx3J8jDgNr_hVDItiCmDCVfqO4sAddzWHhe6iX97WH7e-krIFNNKZtuPTsT9_TQ20Y0rzEWa2VExoj34t5sd6KpLjc/s1600/CSC_6583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr74cTZJSE-GQcmiFCXBD1myXgPEMQU_lMj0WJhyo1Nse0K7kf4Vx3J8jDgNr_hVDItiCmDCVfqO4sAddzWHhe6iX97WH7e-krIFNNKZtuPTsT9_TQ20Y0rzEWa2VExoj34t5sd6KpLjc/s640/CSC_6583.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Looking out at El Tromen Volcano</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fqsYBjYKe9IZwrGgeZxmPAt1_swQS2wfeJw_cmqA4sTR9SHzJ0C_vi8HB9_YhOK30tbU5fquidjf1uJNRsy4UQ6-EbUApFTlAkkyeoh3AmtLtrShfgrp7-8ANjQOPiSrYGJQ9K5Y7b8/s1600/CSC_6585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9fqsYBjYKe9IZwrGgeZxmPAt1_swQS2wfeJw_cmqA4sTR9SHzJ0C_vi8HB9_YhOK30tbU5fquidjf1uJNRsy4UQ6-EbUApFTlAkkyeoh3AmtLtrShfgrp7-8ANjQOPiSrYGJQ9K5Y7b8/s640/CSC_6585.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the top of Cerro Wayle, the peak across the way from El Tromen. With vistas of snowy peaks all around, this hike made for a grand entrance to northern Patagonia.<br /><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Q9pGlX4_XVdYhZ_kOQRmwSwshBdTyk0asIsc5oV_nWJBFyAfNkMHS4JrrIyEPebTdwIzZwsQ-zaPjNxA1iApZa9af9FXhkpJXndOZB6Qkt2IRahD-KWRkog_pFA0H8d7-4ZU_wp-ezc/s1600/CSC_6600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Q9pGlX4_XVdYhZ_kOQRmwSwshBdTyk0asIsc5oV_nWJBFyAfNkMHS4JrrIyEPebTdwIzZwsQ-zaPjNxA1iApZa9af9FXhkpJXndOZB6Qkt2IRahD-KWRkog_pFA0H8d7-4ZU_wp-ezc/s640/CSC_6600.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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Finally we find Dan and Gina!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghavM6W7VD7bgNvNeD1U9BNLWAcIRpm-xMA6ifXHtJFsJvnhFTBFVYckRJuzshV82c9U-kpmbMs-8HTzJ8aUrSfBEpJ-xX_6595cksv58j6ZtxQF1hlWASCZJEh1IJQoL4YgcUWnJ3IKA/s1600/CSC_6587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghavM6W7VD7bgNvNeD1U9BNLWAcIRpm-xMA6ifXHtJFsJvnhFTBFVYckRJuzshV82c9U-kpmbMs-8HTzJ8aUrSfBEpJ-xX_6595cksv58j6ZtxQF1hlWASCZJEh1IJQoL4YgcUWnJ3IKA/s640/CSC_6587.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Danny playing with Dan´s camera</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFvbrLtupMVdOb2xlh2llpy24KlnFgMbtouAB3W-QrXjMcNibgS2rP7huctyB7as9fBQH7OZ2t60_CNVUevzsjpzR6uDCLs9hghYKwIb_o-6y4jUFAthYk2CzczR96NsrFkT1Ad08HoI/s1600/CSC_6591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFvbrLtupMVdOb2xlh2llpy24KlnFgMbtouAB3W-QrXjMcNibgS2rP7huctyB7as9fBQH7OZ2t60_CNVUevzsjpzR6uDCLs9hghYKwIb_o-6y4jUFAthYk2CzczR96NsrFkT1Ad08HoI/s640/CSC_6591.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Alpenglow on El Tromen</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0brD449Z46hSbHpayXAAObXxEXhMDAj9Q_iIMfVUy0j5q7g2mKfQYIKlE3qO14uz7QWlVayj3nVbDZGgBkw6oSHVUHEXnWkJ7-qpgf8bFY-l_fu8K0utk65cuIRMnOpiHOy-TWp9gwgE/s1600/CSC_6592-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="538" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0brD449Z46hSbHpayXAAObXxEXhMDAj9Q_iIMfVUy0j5q7g2mKfQYIKlE3qO14uz7QWlVayj3nVbDZGgBkw6oSHVUHEXnWkJ7-qpgf8bFY-l_fu8K0utk65cuIRMnOpiHOy-TWp9gwgE/s640/CSC_6592-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gina enjoying her morning soup outside our refugio</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-IeqYuBqCTX5PnjcJyBKhdZwB6R3supeMEc55Qe9TZyLbBQSIAKej6yr9hEhJBpC-UbVS_shDPz3-ymFe11ggWC4JXlNFmtUsXM4oVyVa0f0DRoCs7tofLGLJd95_KnqUAeCL9bzikXY/s1600/CSC_6593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-IeqYuBqCTX5PnjcJyBKhdZwB6R3supeMEc55Qe9TZyLbBQSIAKej6yr9hEhJBpC-UbVS_shDPz3-ymFe11ggWC4JXlNFmtUsXM4oVyVa0f0DRoCs7tofLGLJd95_KnqUAeCL9bzikXY/s640/CSC_6593.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lenticular clouds loom ominously over the volcano as we head out</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcD4JdiZtgrrFNtrLrrWbau41hGVx2qUV-3_fqEeXcTwhQhEBogGeeY_LCbfs9dFbQTfv1wwkM8jswvMHbcxkNtoG7OvAPfu4RjkZGx4rcxNTBWtIPu7LG900i3RYuzwCkT61b_bbi0sE/s1600/CSC_6594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcD4JdiZtgrrFNtrLrrWbau41hGVx2qUV-3_fqEeXcTwhQhEBogGeeY_LCbfs9dFbQTfv1wwkM8jswvMHbcxkNtoG7OvAPfu4RjkZGx4rcxNTBWtIPu7LG900i3RYuzwCkT61b_bbi0sE/s640/CSC_6594.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The beautiful ride back down to Chos Malal. In the background is Cerro Wayle.</span></td></tr>
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We stop at a local bike shop to replace our severely worn disc rotors before heading out. As we work on the bikes we pass around a mug of mate (pronounced MA-tay), a bitter, tea-like drink that's a requisite for any Argentinian morning. Chos Malal is also home to a bakery that sells huge brownies. And a cyclist in a bakery is always a dangerous thing...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFCfbeKZkuZlgoP28i1n1r0ZNGxDj052wjGzkuJdnLgl2Brpv3Mh50RJZbyJtmTyHqa-ZQaSU0GBLLFB3kKJrFaKLsuuEkmg4Hi3ARjewCjMg8x4O48H2IWq-adO1hJj0j8D_iC_aLxE/s1600/CSC_6595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFCfbeKZkuZlgoP28i1n1r0ZNGxDj052wjGzkuJdnLgl2Brpv3Mh50RJZbyJtmTyHqa-ZQaSU0GBLLFB3kKJrFaKLsuuEkmg4Hi3ARjewCjMg8x4O48H2IWq-adO1hJj0j8D_iC_aLxE/s640/CSC_6595.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My exhausted front disc rotor. Note how narrow the outer part is where the pads have worn it away</span></td></tr>
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The days we spend riding from Chos Malal to the town of Copahue are not as nice as we expect. The road is washboardy and sandy in many places, and frequent cars bathe us in clouds of dust. But of course every boring ride has its fun moments.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_8QvI3cvO5mOZZZM7I5vhJa0zpTjJQ0p9soksI8NGHhW8dkuJ1d1mcKJyzVzc_IGXPx83HdxpoRV_0LUOIsJwW9pgexoL4V7WYIJeBaJq_bklFEREzjLq3rcqt1cZjnr30JLW6raOuU/s1600/CSC_7004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV_8QvI3cvO5mOZZZM7I5vhJa0zpTjJQ0p9soksI8NGHhW8dkuJ1d1mcKJyzVzc_IGXPx83HdxpoRV_0LUOIsJwW9pgexoL4V7WYIJeBaJq_bklFEREzjLq3rcqt1cZjnr30JLW6raOuU/s640/CSC_7004.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">An interesting road sign. Fortunately it wasn´t that steep, and no one got shot!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhK5Iot3uLmYLVaCls57MXk6pGtJxq2pi9hgUdGGVPOdNbBXzg2cyY4b5ic3oAXcmtcU-MJimiUNnOBuvjQKJ9HcRLCvnl_b1TU3nJMXek_w1WQRJTy18m-5rzN68lGkSJdfICvUztKb8/s1600/CSC_6598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhK5Iot3uLmYLVaCls57MXk6pGtJxq2pi9hgUdGGVPOdNbBXzg2cyY4b5ic3oAXcmtcU-MJimiUNnOBuvjQKJ9HcRLCvnl_b1TU3nJMXek_w1WQRJTy18m-5rzN68lGkSJdfICvUztKb8/s640/CSC_6598.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dan and Gina ride fatbikes with 4¨ tires, making our 2.1¨ mountain bike tires look like toys.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzEIQGrdGhjPI_v6O7xFPqaopLxWnpEqrMKf_9ZOdxdR6OA17w94DCyrOqAXM50eaUjs4azry68-tKMb4-5o78FNZ3kk_OhXWJgYn3XfHctJnZp_8j6C_5auLm_35S-C820xcvelCwUag/s1600/CSC_6599-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzEIQGrdGhjPI_v6O7xFPqaopLxWnpEqrMKf_9ZOdxdR6OA17w94DCyrOqAXM50eaUjs4azry68-tKMb4-5o78FNZ3kk_OhXWJgYn3XfHctJnZp_8j6C_5auLm_35S-C820xcvelCwUag/s640/CSC_6599-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dan cresting a hill</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1YChfI3R1n9HUEtgweUStk4tzycxPj7eBSpEurfcUYoqtUcSLJ5BCkKF5Dipi7lrS7zRCa65q73hHe6J9r0cp-xK7JRK67e6MDoWCuzj7-4kypJaruleseGSuaZEa-3b2W5uVp-DLCI/s1600/CSC_6605-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF1YChfI3R1n9HUEtgweUStk4tzycxPj7eBSpEurfcUYoqtUcSLJ5BCkKF5Dipi7lrS7zRCa65q73hHe6J9r0cp-xK7JRK67e6MDoWCuzj7-4kypJaruleseGSuaZEa-3b2W5uVp-DLCI/s640/CSC_6605-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This little guy joined us at camp one night</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGw1aCh7mq_RlvwLiakklF_2PO_ehzgXgVubahTTe9jjslf-RbZMom4JLCdIHgARWb-IKRlVZCpK0e-8ufkuo-BxGJSBL12dsNPBls-HzOsgtUTDIa2BgvEg10urQJcDOEsELEuL7WqF4/s1600/CSC_6823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGw1aCh7mq_RlvwLiakklF_2PO_ehzgXgVubahTTe9jjslf-RbZMom4JLCdIHgARWb-IKRlVZCpK0e-8ufkuo-BxGJSBL12dsNPBls-HzOsgtUTDIa2BgvEg10urQJcDOEsELEuL7WqF4/s640/CSC_6823.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Outside of an artesanal brewery with a lovable Saint Bernard</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7MIQVuQnwj0PI9vKCoymo7DyOAkpd3l5HdvwvfcO_SthxfLo4WUzTpC933L40wY5cM9N4AyRiPAOFBQHwwihREq5_m44Ml9UnMztX5G9tLzhIr-sP89qFWQGw_sfx_MOd_7i9YWuFNw/s1600/CSC_6824-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7MIQVuQnwj0PI9vKCoymo7DyOAkpd3l5HdvwvfcO_SthxfLo4WUzTpC933L40wY5cM9N4AyRiPAOFBQHwwihREq5_m44Ml9UnMztX5G9tLzhIr-sP89qFWQGw_sfx_MOd_7i9YWuFNw/s640/CSC_6824-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A relic of the past</span></td></tr>
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As we approach the town and the Chilean border, we are surprised to observe giant grey clouds of ash blossoming out of Volcan Copahue. At first we are nervous that the pass will be closed, but apparently this is normal. Our initial apprehensiveness turns to wonder as we approach the smoking beast and admire the blue lakes and thermals at its base.</div>
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Copahue is a small, rather touristy town known by many older Argentinians as the best place to retire. (I think this is due to the hot springs and not the extremely sulfurous air.) We arrive in town at just the right time: the lady who can give us our exit stamps isn't here every day and will be leaving in ten minutes! We rush into the local shopping mall where we find the tiny barebones office we need. In minutes we are officially out of the country and ready to head to Chile!<br />
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Immediately after the town of Copahue the road ends and turns to a trail. Dan and Gina have a lot of experience with what they call hike-a-bikes, and we're excited to learn from them as we undertake this one. Things start off with a bang as Dan shows us how to load the bikes on our backs and we hike up the first steep hill. The trail we follow into Chile is a horse track with various challenges along the way. But it's beautiful, and working together, we make steady progress.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tam riding under smoking Copahue</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dan carrying up the first bit of trail, to the surprise of some tourists</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFi3eV3KxL1SbKBx-ktfApKjgdESPkc4yFwv4pIz6FhH4ZmadrwAMtWQycpJy7adVqrt2PHQeSMKZLwnq2CKG9Vc-7Rvo5xhyphenhyphenkDsTsJrbynePcihfJZPPLTUdo2Wpqf62QbqlQnFqY84/s1600/CSC_6831.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tam and Copahue in the reflection of Gina´s sunglasses</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPrBA7JiYWSqiUfI9Ji1nH6-kthd3bVu6ii4mwGbJ-j2JAIf7q1eUODyL7SxDFgBnWjiJ85jbNpWDFvKdtaDGpVfCbrnS_kjzT6zQzj1BfWz0cxElUuIgCPZK-dl5-TSFTWKFwwW-qrI/s1600/CSC_6835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPrBA7JiYWSqiUfI9Ji1nH6-kthd3bVu6ii4mwGbJ-j2JAIf7q1eUODyL7SxDFgBnWjiJ85jbNpWDFvKdtaDGpVfCbrnS_kjzT6zQzj1BfWz0cxElUuIgCPZK-dl5-TSFTWKFwwW-qrI/s640/CSC_6835.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Trail decorations</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDn8-zzfvkc2Oh33swnwYfq_BJH7yAv6fdLsMM_KrXlPXTJ5UgFO9X8FtatEqDFYbENmDhgjsZTy0QbJWZ4gz5Pd_qQU8tJ_3X-oK6vvu73X-qjDsV__JhVY_3ZtAsBP5q2hJKIx5iaA/s1600/CSC_6837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDn8-zzfvkc2Oh33swnwYfq_BJH7yAv6fdLsMM_KrXlPXTJ5UgFO9X8FtatEqDFYbENmDhgjsZTy0QbJWZ4gz5Pd_qQU8tJ_3X-oK6vvu73X-qjDsV__JhVY_3ZtAsBP5q2hJKIx5iaA/s640/CSC_6837.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gina fording a river</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnxP7OwQudcw3ID-33t9w98Q9CO5NJwfpsGRR3hybnLh4QQjPSpPDzVLpw_ssNIv-yhCS3WKhVgGbX2mYaCMB0v4kK1pKiIdBsXjFnMZZhKk9cJLPIDSKhp08oGhCJsyNJZm7DCUqkDA/s1600/CSC_6838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZnxP7OwQudcw3ID-33t9w98Q9CO5NJwfpsGRR3hybnLh4QQjPSpPDzVLpw_ssNIv-yhCS3WKhVgGbX2mYaCMB0v4kK1pKiIdBsXjFnMZZhKk9cJLPIDSKhp08oGhCJsyNJZm7DCUqkDA/s640/CSC_6838.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bikes become backpacks at Paso Copahue</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2AO2YT6wk7y753Hj3hF1fajQG3pkqLVeiyNUtUAtedeDcCRm7E_-McvgmUDC4Eo04pzHMQTpuUwHdWKdjZ1WegusUBLSgVnMxTTly0jpDPxgdYMWXTzM54zuinRJx-8s_g58tNEMGbM/s1600/CSC_6842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-2AO2YT6wk7y753Hj3hF1fajQG3pkqLVeiyNUtUAtedeDcCRm7E_-McvgmUDC4Eo04pzHMQTpuUwHdWKdjZ1WegusUBLSgVnMxTTly0jpDPxgdYMWXTzM54zuinRJx-8s_g58tNEMGbM/s640/CSC_6842.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dan pushing up a sketchy section of trail</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisWUnYsOGQtYQzakgarW8vD8xc14S5ok5Ijlm_cCvEQQqX8uwsbPHWoSOaUnmkpFMVnQuhqW35C5PfAtXlUMIVMgCU9cF2QN3ohh75dZISOpytEpMryo7f7bV4dHeIR3RkjGavPYK0aTM/s1600/CSC_6844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisWUnYsOGQtYQzakgarW8vD8xc14S5ok5Ijlm_cCvEQQqX8uwsbPHWoSOaUnmkpFMVnQuhqW35C5PfAtXlUMIVMgCU9cF2QN3ohh75dZISOpytEpMryo7f7bV4dHeIR3RkjGavPYK0aTM/s640/CSC_6844.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bubbling volcanic fumaroles lend interesting colors to the dirt and a sulfurous smell to the air</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpRH1Rq66ftDWckZpNKCUF_oMRfwA9XIkdHOyjGvynpeI20L1orczTHElFQyCAxtlhqzGQWOlD4sMrt6IQz6rz7gtvxatDI1PufzM5oVVD5H9or8pM2C36RmAArCVy7m_L4PV9p94dmk/s1600/CSC_6846-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpRH1Rq66ftDWckZpNKCUF_oMRfwA9XIkdHOyjGvynpeI20L1orczTHElFQyCAxtlhqzGQWOlD4sMrt6IQz6rz7gtvxatDI1PufzM5oVVD5H9or8pM2C36RmAArCVy7m_L4PV9p94dmk/s640/CSC_6846-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Roaring waterfalls on a sunset stroll</span></td></tr>
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As we reach our first road in Chile, we are stopped in our tracks by a close-up sighting of a condor cruising through the valley below. Silent, regal, white-ruffed monster of the skies, it circles and then soars away.<br />
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Our biggest question is, can we enter Chile legally through this border crossing? We know that other cyclists have done it, but there is no official immigration office. We roll up to the Chilean police, known here as the Carabineros, and hope for the best.<br />
Although initially skeptical, the guy at the office calls his boss to see if he is authorized to stamp us in, and soon he's checking our passports and we are good to go!<br />
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Patagonia, trees, streams, finally we're in the land of green that we've been dreaming about! But before heading out for the next adventure in this paradise, we need to stock up for the next few days at the local store. Unfortunately, it has an abysmal selection of foodstuffs. We leave with our bags full of cheap cookies and pickled vegetables. Yum. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje92kBM8WwEptXQZAZDXZnC607NzliSw4NJptxhwXeiTLbrUDXP4mD5wK8KJ2Rg-baUQoEfY8qla06qTNGO2Uo25PnZboa1pJ_OGuFzCuqOlHOjMS3EJbrNweayDsyl_36CZxuqvR4H-Y/s1600/CSC_6850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje92kBM8WwEptXQZAZDXZnC607NzliSw4NJptxhwXeiTLbrUDXP4mD5wK8KJ2Rg-baUQoEfY8qla06qTNGO2Uo25PnZboa1pJ_OGuFzCuqOlHOjMS3EJbrNweayDsyl_36CZxuqvR4H-Y/s640/CSC_6850.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The good kind of traffic</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIO9_DqxC2XYRAq2b2Yyq2ekON0wvhWoNoOijGM5UU8c2ziX9NqpVC3QgxLxbkpnZya_snFmxBFjRV3Xss0aJlVf2deqzBgAJefBsEYqu2Tq9tNt_cN_e6GOHcCHzf0UM60ZUOhL9f_4/s1600/CSC_6856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIO9_DqxC2XYRAq2b2Yyq2ekON0wvhWoNoOijGM5UU8c2ziX9NqpVC3QgxLxbkpnZya_snFmxBFjRV3Xss0aJlVf2deqzBgAJefBsEYqu2Tq9tNt_cN_e6GOHcCHzf0UM60ZUOhL9f_4/s640/CSC_6856.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A peruvian meadowlark adds some red to the greens of the landscape</span></td></tr>
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We've decided to take a "shortcut," a route that cuts through the mountains and will avoid a detour out to the town of Ralco. The friendly officer from the Carabineros told us that it was mostly flat and passable by bike. The road turns into a trail and then turns a lot more interesting than we expected.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGT1HnsdaDfLZzP99FaSsXLMW-wBsYvdyazGJ35VR-Wto7IHz1E5iLthc7vXawkjX9UkdMNy6h69UKABEUyYyLwxJB0wcQU07CBPeEW0Vw-KkWkpKlUmoOWN10IlSskkd_tpmeFcWeBaY/s1600/CSC_6857-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGT1HnsdaDfLZzP99FaSsXLMW-wBsYvdyazGJ35VR-Wto7IHz1E5iLthc7vXawkjX9UkdMNy6h69UKABEUyYyLwxJB0wcQU07CBPeEW0Vw-KkWkpKlUmoOWN10IlSskkd_tpmeFcWeBaY/s320/CSC_6857-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not too happy with this road, although it was certainly easier than what was ahead</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PUF4eqgAXxPWni3a7IpsZ8NXCf1cEFOuPBbaYqHd2kmsApHwUTOQSsh9_iL9vcvdzWNhe3bVklo4xuM_G9vRGT2Nj1Ss6L8siXJbACed2NlOvPSdVwMLA9hh-qCgJTQi_5tu38F0WJk/s1600/CSC_6858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PUF4eqgAXxPWni3a7IpsZ8NXCf1cEFOuPBbaYqHd2kmsApHwUTOQSsh9_iL9vcvdzWNhe3bVklo4xuM_G9vRGT2Nj1Ss6L8siXJbACed2NlOvPSdVwMLA9hh-qCgJTQi_5tu38F0WJk/s320/CSC_6858.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Not as smooth as we had hoped</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHCm3D9OrEts3Big-SsE_pzzTisT-YynAh-W_5VjRH_O9lw4aw5HGFj8n0VVmqNSA2OCUcILG2GqLUI5kIxXRKDbyJNAeoJwKaz0rPeVuG_WyoRbBjQ8JI6efPlwB6C3BTBoOeytrI_0/s1600/CSC_6859-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHCm3D9OrEts3Big-SsE_pzzTisT-YynAh-W_5VjRH_O9lw4aw5HGFj8n0VVmqNSA2OCUcILG2GqLUI5kIxXRKDbyJNAeoJwKaz0rPeVuG_WyoRbBjQ8JI6efPlwB6C3BTBoOeytrI_0/s640/CSC_6859-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dusty tires</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMtkXxhpfej9YWKUTDH7jIF5HDB1mIEaGlxuPhoDYcW4D54K8wyDH6yTW8rOH69byOkCtRvZLG8atOqAE-qvVqg8CvWe9493-wPKE7rq_8MX43pke6lquNi2MywQ5b4RpegDsJeec6us/s1600/CSC_6915-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMtkXxhpfej9YWKUTDH7jIF5HDB1mIEaGlxuPhoDYcW4D54K8wyDH6yTW8rOH69byOkCtRvZLG8atOqAE-qvVqg8CvWe9493-wPKE7rq_8MX43pke6lquNi2MywQ5b4RpegDsJeec6us/s320/CSC_6915-Edit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This colorful reptile, a thin tree lizard, popped in to check out the intruders while we were eating lunch</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOXFK6HdKqFuWxMlj7t7XfaeFIG7vYAjwVRgh1rR1t41FS6Wm8XTQ1aB94nW2-fUpzJMluciyp_DSxRBLqLgbB0akU03UaaXpfJ8wf1W2pmKyUVgcJ16ldtbFnSFeUfC1zgTN4OP_RGJg/s1600/CSC_6919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOXFK6HdKqFuWxMlj7t7XfaeFIG7vYAjwVRgh1rR1t41FS6Wm8XTQ1aB94nW2-fUpzJMluciyp_DSxRBLqLgbB0akU03UaaXpfJ8wf1W2pmKyUVgcJ16ldtbFnSFeUfC1zgTN4OP_RGJg/s640/CSC_6919.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Through a tunnel of plants</span></td></tr>
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The next morning we realize that our trail is going to take us up and over a much steeper climb than we had expected. Looking ahead, it's clear that we can't continue with the limited amount of food we have.<br />
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Luckily, there are a lot of "puestos" in this small river valley. What our map refers to as a puesto is a small shack, often with sheep or other animals nearby and a few people who are out here to take care of them. After asking around quite a bit we find two families who are willing to make us bread. It's the simplest kind, a huge round loaf from flour and water, nothing more, cooked in the coals of the fire. Here this style of bread is called a tortilla, a far cry from the flatbread of Mexico or the potato-and-egg omelette of Spain, both also known in the local jargon as tortillas. While we wait for them to bake it fresh I play soccer with some young kids who are clearly super excited to see a foreigner visiting their house.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbWMeqa9DaMHu64CNIWyglOeOTyb_mLJgMB5vAq0kdbeNxhBExIq66zbTibppF4NpfsdqkFesQvc24eie3PL0TqPdIwwi4Xb_fBGdbAEZcdkaltOqGdJl57FCS8uuQjE7dangJus8zak/s1600/CSC_6923-Edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbWMeqa9DaMHu64CNIWyglOeOTyb_mLJgMB5vAq0kdbeNxhBExIq66zbTibppF4NpfsdqkFesQvc24eie3PL0TqPdIwwi4Xb_fBGdbAEZcdkaltOqGdJl57FCS8uuQjE7dangJus8zak/s640/CSC_6923-Edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">With the knowledge that we´ll have food for the next few days, that bread tasted soooo good.</span></td></tr>
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Finally, bellies full of deliciousness, we start battling our way up the hill. Long stalks of bamboo and spiky plants block the trail and hamper our progress. The four of us work together to push, carry, and bushwack our bikes up the hill. Almost four hours later, what a feeling of relief and achievement to finally reach the top!<br />
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My body aches everywhere in the morning from the battering it took yesterday. But what a beautiful wilderness we are in. You can't help but smile when you wake up in the shadow of majestic monkey puzzle trees and a view of a smoking volcano.<br />
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There's not much more to the climb, and when we reach the top there's a surprise waiting! A group of horsemen from the Chilean army is taking a break in the shade. They give us helpful info on the trail ahead and then fill our bottles with some Gatorade and our bags with tasty snacks. What nice guys!<br />
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Turns out that the trail does get better ahead. We find some scenic single track that looks rideable! There are some tricky sections that make me nervous, but both Dan and Danny help me learn how to ride through them, and soon I have a big smile on my face. Turns out that singletrack can actually be fun!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The classic araucaria, or monkey puzzle tree</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Battling our way through some brush</td></tr>
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Even just a couple of days with limited food makes you appreciate the smallest stores. The places we pass through on the descent are so small that they can hardly be called towns, but the food we find is enough to rejuvenate us for the next section of our ride.<br />
The pushing isn't over yet. We start the next day with a long, steep and dusty uphill from the river. Finally at the top of the climb we're on our bikes and riding again. Unfortunately the roads ahead aren't the easy ride we're dreaming of. We spend a hot and dusty afternoon winding our way up and down steep inclines, finally collapsing by the banks of a clear river. Everyone is grateful to wash off in the cool water and enjoy giant pasta dinners.<br />
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The following day presents us with spectacular scenery as we pedal up through giant monkey puzzle tree forests and then along the side of an enormous volcano.</div>
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Just before lunch things grind to a halt as Danny's back wheel seizes up and refuses to turn. It seems that his rear hub has completely failed, a rare occurrence that it happened with no warning. Luckily we are at the top of the climb and near enough to civilization that it's an easy coast downhill into the nearest town.<br />
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Where do we go from here? Gina has to hitchhike to a nearby town to pick up some bike tires that she and Dan mailed to themselves before their trip. We decide to go with her and see if the bigger town will have the parts we need to fix Danny's wheel. Hitchhiking is easier than we expect. We walk up to the road, stick out our thumbs and the first car picks us up. Awesome.<br />
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So begins a fruitless search for bike parts and mechanics, and a lovely evening at the house of our warmshowers hosts. We learn enough to see that we will need to go to a bigger city to get the parts we need.<br />
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The following day, Danny and I zip off via bus to the city of Temuco where we easily find a shop where we can rebuild Danny's wheel, not to mention a supermarket with couscous! The glory of big supermarkets, real bike stores, and the general hustle and bustle of the city is exciting and exhausting at the same time. We are both happy to bus and hitchhike our way back to the town of Malalcahuello where Dan and Gina are now waiting with our bikes.</div>
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We're facing a dilemma. We could ride on the dirt road we were planning on taking to Lonquimay, but there's a big climb and we haven't had a rest day in ten strenuous days. The other option is to ride the paved road, but this would take us through a long, narrow tunnel that bikes are not allowed to pass through. We decide to try and hitchhike. Although, who's going to pick up 4 cyclists?<br />
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We're more than surprised when, just a few minutes later, all four of our bikes are strapped to the back of a pickup truck and we're laughing our way down the highway with some new friends. We're stopped at a police checkpoint where they are unhappy about the number of people in the car, but it turns out that our driver has a close relative who is an army colonel- so we're clear to pass! As we unload the bikes in Lonquimay, the family who drove us gifts us a bottle of wine! We feel like it's us that should be thanking them! What wonderful people we meet. I never stop being amazed.<br />
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It's time for a true rest day, so we splurge a bit and decide to share the cost of a cabaña- our own little house for this afternoon and tomorrow. Time to cook up some good food and drink some wine! Cheers to Chile!<br />
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To Jaime and Myrna, Rody and Coco, Kate, Andy and the other folks at the ski/bike shop in Malalcahuello, Pascal and Viviana, and so many others who helped us through in some way or other; thank you all so much!<br />
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<u>Route Notes:</u><br />
- <b>Chos Malal to Copahue</b>, 3 days: Chos Malal has accommodation, camping, restaurants, shops, internet, ATMs, and a decent bike shop. We took Ruta 40 south out of town, veering west onto ripio after about six kilometers. El Cholar has shops and basic accommodation. El Huecu has shops, restaurants, accommodation, internet (though it wasn't working when we passed through), and ATMs. Very little water en route, although streams become more frequent as you progress west. Strong westerly winds in the afternoon. Road surface is generally good but not great, and the traffic, much more in many sections than we had anticipated, made going somewhat frustrating.<br />
Copahue is a very touristy little town with hot springs, expensive shops, camping, ATMs, internet, and restaurants.<br />
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- <b>Paso Copahue,</b> 1 day: There is one woman in Copahue who stamps travelers out of the country. Her office is in the shopping mall next to the hot springs in the center of town; ask for migracion. She seems to have odd work hours, so be prepared to wait around.<br />
The trail up to the pass begins next to the campground on the southwest end of town and switchbacks steeply and obviously up the hill. Follow it down the next valley into Chile. Much of the roughly 7 km of trail is rideable, although there are numerous sections where pushing is necessary due to jumbles of volcanic bowling balls. The trail follows a river almost the whole time, so water is easy to find. Near the end of the trail is a sandy, narrow traverse where a light bike is a boon. Pannier travelers may have to shuttle gear.<br />
The trail turns to road near some hot pools and drops steeply for a few rocky kilometers before flattening out and bringing you to Trapa Trapa. The Chilean carabineros are located a few kilometers before the scattered houses that represent the town, and though the friendly guys there may not know it, they can stamp your passport for entry (other documents are not accepted). Ask them to call their boss if they initially refuse. About 3 km after the carabineros is a little store on the right with very basic items. Ask around, as it's unmarked.<br />
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- <b>Trapa Trapa to Chequenc</b>o, 2.5 days: Instead of continuing on the road to Ralco, we followed Section 5 of the Greater Patagonia Trail up the canyon south of Trapa Trapa and past Laguna El Barco. The turn is just about across the road from the shop.<br />
At first the trail follows a narrow river valley south and uphill. Lots of steep undulations. After about 10 km the valley widens and flattens out while passing the occasional ranch house; almost all of this part is rideable, and there are tons of fantastic camp spots. We were also able to buy bread from local families. There are many trails in this area, the main one crossing the river a few times then climbing steeply up the right (west) side of the valley to an obvious notch. There's plenty of water for the first bit but no water from about halfway up this climb until the trail begins to descend on the other side of the pass when it nears Laguna El Barco (although you never actually see the lake). Our six liters each was sufficient.<br />
There were three more climbs after the big one, but they were always shorter and pushable rather than necessitating carrying. Once over the top, after all the climbs, the trail trends consistently downhill, eventually meeting a road near Laguna El Barco that takes you to the main road at Chequenco. There are numerous streams along the road and a couple of stores, the biggest one in the area being a few hundred meters west of the junction with the main road at Chequenco (where our route meets the Monkey Puzzle Trail). For info on and a GPX track for the Greater Patagonia Trail, see <a href="http://www.wikiexplora.com/index.php/Greater_Patagonian_Trail">here</a>. </div>
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Note: do not underestimate this route! We were able to cycle maybe half of the distance, and when the trail was good it was great: singletrack through shady Monkey Puzzle Tree forest or out on open subalpine plains. But it was also frequently difficult and slow, including a hot, dusty carry up a very steep horse trail that took us numerous hours. Expect little daily progress with a lot of effort.<br />
<br />
- <b>Chequenco to Malalcahuello</b>, 1.5 days: We followed the Monkey Puzzle Trail towards Lonquimay, diverging to Malalcahuello and eventually Temuco to fix a bike issue. Notes <a href="http://www.bikepacking.com/routes/bike-touring-araucania-monkey-puzzle-trail-chile/">here</a> and <a href="http://velofreedom.bike/2015/02/03/dust-guzzlin-monkey-puzzlin-perfection/">here</a>.<br />
Malalcahuello has a small ski/kayak/bike shop with general tools and basic parts. Curacautin has a poor shop near the plaza, Casa Llaima, and an energetic mechanic who works out of his house on the west end of town; ask around for Rambo. Temuco has plenty of bike shops along Lautaro between Mackenna and Manuel Antonio Matta.<br />
<br />
For Dan and Gina's take on all our shenanigans and this route, check out their blog <a href="http://fatcycling.wordpress.com/">here</a>.</div>
Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-78617760542889820422016-01-06T11:30:00.001-08:002016-04-27T08:48:00.686-07:00Blown Away: San Francisco and Pircas Negras, December 23-January 5<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Belén (Argentina)-Tinogasta-Fiambalá-Paso San Francisco-Maricunga (Chile)-La Guardia-Paso Pircas Negras-Jague (Argentina)-Vinchina-Villa Castelli-Villa Union</i></div>
<br />
The route we are planning on taking through the mountains has no towns and no stores. The renowned <a href="http://pikesonbikes.com/" target="_blank">Pikes</a> took 12 days from Fiambala to Villa Union, so we figure that we'll need food for at least 14 from Belen. Things are complicated by the fact that we'll be in the larger towns of Tinogasta and Fiambala late on Christmas Eve and Christmas, when nothing is likely to be open. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvYjt7ocwaZwIfZMuSM3q4qhIg2mamtIsb7ocyqafNRrq9wtsJRKNzR2JFwISRvB1JEzGhQXa7I4X4s8yCM1GblFZqRObfoIJaj7dmbtLUV1rgxM-l0TFtr-DeQD5vsGVgVQjLJ0dKA4/s1600/CSC_5810.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvYjt7ocwaZwIfZMuSM3q4qhIg2mamtIsb7ocyqafNRrq9wtsJRKNzR2JFwISRvB1JEzGhQXa7I4X4s8yCM1GblFZqRObfoIJaj7dmbtLUV1rgxM-l0TFtr-DeQD5vsGVgVQjLJ0dKA4/s400/CSC_5810.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost like our favorite couscous</td></tr>
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Thankfully, to prepare, we have a wonderful place in Belen with our warmshowers host Antonio. What a kind and generous man! He has a family with five kids squished into a small house, and a large, beautiful store filled with handmade woolen ponchos, scarves, blankets, and even shoes and purses. We also find pottery and jewelry on the shelves. Everything is brilliantly colored and exquisitely crafted.<br />
If you´re interested in handmade Argentinian handicrafts, check out the family´s <a href="http://familiavarsarachostock.blogspot.com.ar/" target="_blank">website</a>!<br />
<br />
Since the house in town is already quite full, they are building a new one a few kilometers out into the the country. We get to set up camp at this house. It's only partially built, but it's perfect for us, with a small propane stove, a cold shower and a beautiful deck with tables and chairs. The expansive back yard is bursting with herbs and flowers.<br />
<br />
From here we run operations for 2 days: buying food, repairing gear, and eating lots of ice cream. In the plaza you can get two huge scoops of ice cream in a waffle cone for the equivalent of $1! What a deal! The supermarkets are not as much of a success. We find only crackers and cookies, no other snacks, no peanut butter, and no instant noodles (gasp!). Luckily we do find pre-cooked bulgur wheat, the kind that is used to make tabouli. A test shows that it hydrates well, and it becomes our dinner food for the next 2 weeks.<br />
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The night before we leave, we see a show from our porch: huge blowing clouds of dust, thunder and lightning, and finally torrential rain. Good thing we tested the tent for waterproofing this morning! I've never seen such fickle and severe weather.<br />
<br />
It's Christmas Eve when we set out on the road again. It's actually a bit cloudy and drizzly, a great change from the hot, sunny weather we've become accustomed to. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beat-up, local truck near the town of Londres (London)</td></tr>
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<br />
We're happy to leave the main road and set off on ripio (the local term
for unpaved) over the Cuesta de Zapata. A large sign informs us that the
road we're taking is closed to vehicles, so we're surprised when we are
passed by three cars and four motorcycles! I guess the first part of the road
is good enough for people to live here and transit by car. Once we're past
the last house, the road deteriorates and becomes more of a stream bed
than a road. In sections the road has caved in, and there's just enough
room for a bike to pass. We undulate up and down through the desert for a
long time before finally reaching a high point and then climbing to the
final pass. From here it's a steep and technical descent towards the
town of Tinogasta.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawHs45jXHAuvT4yKVUlMAiyhRwndT4yY6_2nBXAdKPtYIgXcdP9h4tiaKxsN6BpKiK5rY_ec_7iBTpDWaF8o7Y6IRFfjfBm8p-ccgEwbI574BCH-nkboLW8xg0frBl4cGyhuH81eU8uY/s1600/CSC_5812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawHs45jXHAuvT4yKVUlMAiyhRwndT4yY6_2nBXAdKPtYIgXcdP9h4tiaKxsN6BpKiK5rY_ec_7iBTpDWaF8o7Y6IRFfjfBm8p-ccgEwbI574BCH-nkboLW8xg0frBl4cGyhuH81eU8uY/s640/CSC_5812.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bumping down a scenic descent</td></tr>
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We stop just out of town to camp. I'm especially tired from the difficult biking and hot weather.<br />
Before going to bed, I write Merry Christmas in the sand. I imagine that Santa and his reindeer will see it when they fly over tonight.<br />
<br />
Christmas morning has a surprise for us: all four of our tires are flat. We remove a total of nine spines and patch seven holes in our tubes. The plants out here are vicious. It also appears that the road from here into Tinogasta serves as the town dump (because the road is closed, remember?). Trash is everywhere, wind-blown, half-shredded plastic bags making the bushes look like strange phantoms. Before reaching town we have to cross a wide, muddy river also filled with trash. Time to get our feet wet. <br />
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Once we're in town a nice lady brings us to her house so we can fill up water and wash stuff out. Well hydrated, we're back on the road, and things start to look up for the day. The road is almost flat and straight to Fiambala and we have a great tailwind. Not only that, when we arrive we find two stores open! We stock up on some veggies and mashed potatoes and then treat ourselves to enormous ice creams. What a wonderful Christmas treat! Since we're in town I'm also able to talk to my family and hear about their Christmas celebrations. I wish I could be there with all of them, but this year I have a mountain to climb instead. <br />
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In the late afternoon we knock off 20 kilometers of the climb up Paso San Francisco, taking advantage of our tailwind until the road curves and turns it into a headwind. A solid day. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Christmas dinner</td></tr>
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How to make it at home! <br />
Hydrate precooked bulgur with tepid water in a large jar for an hour or so. For a truly authentic taste, put this container on your bike and go for a ride during this period. <br />
Mix bulgur with the following ingredients:<br />
-crushed walnuts<br />
-roasted and salted peanuts <br />
-a slightly shriveled, chopped tomato<br />
-small, chopped white onion <br />
-soy protein flakes with a bit of water <br />
-olive oil <br />
-salt<br />
-red pepper flakes<br />
-minced and dried garlic<br />
-herbs recommended as fish seasoning <br />
Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<br />
We wake up early to bike as much as possible before the wind picks up. The morning is cool and beautiful until the sun comes up and brings swarms of flies with it. Slowly we stop seeing trees, the bushes get smaller, and then the vegetation is gone altogether and we're back in the Puna, a high altitude world of sand and rocks. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZeCe2pUYfRka9SDNnAdbKfXsT-5gGCs0aQwpO6RrCjlFfACXHD1dn9Xfc-k_T4OH04SMNGqJ3D-o4VImoVGkKeWav8ufUd5uSBH8QL8kkLHF9KPOAuJ4-3MPPA_oE0nRhxY0Bx6u-dA/s1600/CSC_5876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZeCe2pUYfRka9SDNnAdbKfXsT-5gGCs0aQwpO6RrCjlFfACXHD1dn9Xfc-k_T4OH04SMNGqJ3D-o4VImoVGkKeWav8ufUd5uSBH8QL8kkLHF9KPOAuJ4-3MPPA_oE0nRhxY0Bx6u-dA/s640/CSC_5876.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise ascending San Francisco</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quiet morning riding</td></tr>
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By lunch we've already done fifty kilometers! A great morning and we're at Refugio 2. There are six refugios along this route, small, triangular buildings that provide a welcome shelter from the harsh elements. Many of them have water that people have left inside for other travelers. Each also has a register where people can make notes when they pass through. We write a small note in this register and see that our friends Dan and Gina stopped here as well. Looking back at a year ago, we also find the record of Alberto and Lucy, a pair of cyclists whose blog we often look at for route notes. How cool! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBOK46j_6zQB_WxR4o_g1g2SNVLmfQHUTdSY59qbck_5mdTyYmW9W7-iCYnqJMj9h01V2KUMICDL7ZCEBuRzljgEDpR4wWNlNOcRZt54ZP8KCZwlNkoVWK16jY6O8HQkReVLT8eG7j1s/s1600/CSC_5863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBOK46j_6zQB_WxR4o_g1g2SNVLmfQHUTdSY59qbck_5mdTyYmW9W7-iCYnqJMj9h01V2KUMICDL7ZCEBuRzljgEDpR4wWNlNOcRZt54ZP8KCZwlNkoVWK16jY6O8HQkReVLT8eG7j1s/s640/CSC_5863.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Refugio 3 on the way up Paso San Francisco</td></tr>
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<br />
After lunch the wind has picked up, and we're surprised to discover that it's a tailwind! By mid afternoon we have already arrived at the only hotel along this route. It's a huge, ugly, red and green building with no one around, and the guy in there behind the counter happily fills our bottles with water. When we inquire if they sell any snacks, he gives us a big bag of cookies and some dried fruit for free! Since we've been careful with our food (we want to make sure we have enough for the next two weeks!) we're both hungry and more than psyched to have some extra food. What a tremendous and generous surprise! <br />
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As we leave the hotel a storm is brewing, and the storm winds blow us straight towards Refugio 3. We ride the 18 kilometers in less than an hour and have a great place to spend the night. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX900edYaHHYMu909hW7mFFTd6mxhlajAT8V_avyeKtWDwsgQSxGLzXZujENhFfwf8txt0kljh9zDWvPOywBoNcGkSV8lT4_rKNPL_VKrfdrWdtsZesexlWTHhskAGRLP9hFfD2BvqgwQ/s1600/CSC_5864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX900edYaHHYMu909hW7mFFTd6mxhlajAT8V_avyeKtWDwsgQSxGLzXZujENhFfwf8txt0kljh9zDWvPOywBoNcGkSV8lT4_rKNPL_VKrfdrWdtsZesexlWTHhskAGRLP9hFfD2BvqgwQ/s640/CSC_5864.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful spot to fill up on water</td></tr>
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<br />
We start super early again and are surprised that at 6 am there is already a light but frigid headwind. I am so excited to see the first rays of sun illuminating the horizon and painting the blue-grey mountains with warm colors. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IcYR5moEMLC1PtFT_wxCy_qufYIVxfgReiHfgcCrcsQmVn5v4iulRzvE0X9rVRkwhtkgCS6h8QCsQUJhxhuWK84Tb4hFvrACsC2q_MLpdXWQOJcOaN5iSocHcWI9YQYQSzlhg-qQnbo/s1600/CSC_5866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_IcYR5moEMLC1PtFT_wxCy_qufYIVxfgReiHfgcCrcsQmVn5v4iulRzvE0X9rVRkwhtkgCS6h8QCsQUJhxhuWK84Tb4hFvrACsC2q_MLpdXWQOJcOaN5iSocHcWI9YQYQSzlhg-qQnbo/s640/CSC_5866.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can't get enough of the sunrises around here</td></tr>
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<br />
As we ride towards immigration control at Las Grutas, we are lucky enough to see two enormous condors take flight from where they were feeding by the green-banked river. What incredible birds! There are also tons of vicuñas and guanacos out on the roam. We have finally learned to distinguish the two. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqF1aa4mEp5PJgDgb6dkpPCOfzYSrzmPhFmVkuUCZXfq9eIEfgnS3TfaVcOFOkEv_roZMX82Lu6ivTDG0w_MFlnRwz2gCSItgvFuJrWEnWYgyI3Dl5ajE-fG8Kwk0EigN6eWH8sMvHIaM/s1600/CSC_5868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqF1aa4mEp5PJgDgb6dkpPCOfzYSrzmPhFmVkuUCZXfq9eIEfgnS3TfaVcOFOkEv_roZMX82Lu6ivTDG0w_MFlnRwz2gCSItgvFuJrWEnWYgyI3Dl5ajE-fG8Kwk0EigN6eWH8sMvHIaM/s640/CSC_5868.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puna wonderland</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCo6q1ei6fhlNM3g6yOPXS8RZu5U1x_rs6VFZuNsmiNlQjkLxL1blI7TABdzZEgMxni_1uc-XVdvDuIiQGNLhM70msjhWHZ0PLu6ONZ7tmBwbj6uormIvAjAcKTl3LkeF7n28N7CTILls/s1600/CSC_5873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCo6q1ei6fhlNM3g6yOPXS8RZu5U1x_rs6VFZuNsmiNlQjkLxL1blI7TABdzZEgMxni_1uc-XVdvDuIiQGNLhM70msjhWHZ0PLu6ONZ7tmBwbj6uormIvAjAcKTl3LkeF7n28N7CTILls/s640/CSC_5873.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Impressive views of Volcan Incahuasi on the descent to immigration</td></tr>
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It starts to rain almost as soon as we arrive at immigration, and the guys there say we can have lunch inside. We end up having a great discussion with an immigration officer named Abel, us learning more about Argentina and he learning a bit about the US. It's a nice break. <br />
<br />
Stepping outside, we see that not only has it stopped raining, but we have a tailwind! What? This pass is known for blasting cyclists coming this direction with terrible headwinds. I think we may be the only two in history who have pedaled to the top with sunshine, a bit of snow, and a tailwind.<br />
<br />
We're psyched to reach the top, surrounded by huge snowy volcanic peaks. Just arrived as well are two people in a pick-up truck. They turn out to be supremely nice, taking great photos of us and filling up our bottles with water. We learn that one of them is the director of tourism for this whole region of Chile! What a person to meet. Check out his website at <a href="http://punadeatacama.com/">punadeatacama.com</a> <br />
Thanks, Ellen and Ercio!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2r9L96NAZpkukhLVgvfAKfnUAkcTPWz7M50HinN1520F-w5O9R1CJPinUd663BoW9HevW4tav4mMiAMcd_grWChnC6jE9zKey5Dv3vD1bBC_t9-XDx7zQTGhSjYrKRNrKABy8OeXXTk0/s1600/CSC_5874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2r9L96NAZpkukhLVgvfAKfnUAkcTPWz7M50HinN1520F-w5O9R1CJPinUd663BoW9HevW4tav4mMiAMcd_grWChnC6jE9zKey5Dv3vD1bBC_t9-XDx7zQTGhSjYrKRNrKABy8OeXXTk0/s640/CSC_5874.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Yeah! We made it! photo credit: Ercio</span></td></tr>
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As we set up in Refugio 6 for the night, another group of people arrives. The group consists of a family with three young kids and three guides. They are sleeping up here for the night in preparation for climbing the big peak directly across from the pass, San Francisco, and another large peak, Ojos del Salado, the highest in Chile. We're quite impressed with their family vacation. All of us enjoy dinner together in the refugio. We're tired, but it turns into an unexpectedly fun evening of sharing food and stories! Thank you all so much for the tea, cookies and fruit!<br />
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Talking about it later, we decide that San Francisco was one of our favorite passes so far. Here's why: <br />
1) The road was smooth and well graded with hardly any traffic.<br />
2) The scenery was spectacular, with lots of snowy peaks!<br />
3) Refugios and complete kilometer markers gave us something to look forward to along the way. <br />
4) We were supremely lucky with the weather.<br />
5) We met amazing people! <br />
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In the morning everything is covered in frost and the cold is biting. Even with all our layers on, the downhill is frigid and we have to stop and walk our bikes so that our feet can warm up. Finally the sun begins to turn the snowy peaks to gold and Laguna Verde is below us, looking more blue than green in the gentle light. It's a slow but picturesque morning. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bye, Chile! We`ll see you in a few days.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First rays of sun</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmurI-scCmh4odNyyXcsD_qmyBxFLbro8HQg7AjtNWJPWKFIMUIVt4Bzt3frabaAEHY8SHXLT8sc3xtKNrs1WhFbIKTB6uxOptimDwfrsWYKOnVNn_O24nLldgfkWftRspMaMHXOebM4/s1600/CSC_5977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmurI-scCmh4odNyyXcsD_qmyBxFLbro8HQg7AjtNWJPWKFIMUIVt4Bzt3frabaAEHY8SHXLT8sc3xtKNrs1WhFbIKTB6uxOptimDwfrsWYKOnVNn_O24nLldgfkWftRspMaMHXOebM4/s640/CSC_5977.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That persistant moon is still out</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The blue laguna verde</td></tr>
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Our afternoon is vastly improved by the end of the rough ripio and the beginning of pavement! We're both tired and start looking early for a spot to camp, but there's not a single windbreak in sight. We end up choosing a roadside ditch. Not a usual camping spot, but it's a bit out of the wind and, being right next to and below the road, out of sight.<br />
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After some more frigid riding, we arrive early the next morning at the immigration building on the Salar de Maricunga. The crossing of a mountain pass in this region is made all the more complicated that we're also crossing the Argentina-Chile border. In this case, we've had to ride 108 kilometers past the border and detour away from our route to get to immigration. The funny thing is, we're not even passing through here; we're going back the way we came. Since we're not passing the border station (even though we will be officially in Chile for the next few days and must get an entrance stamp) the guys let us keep the walnuts and seeds that they say they would have taken otherwise. <br />
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Finally we're complete with the extremely thorough border proceedings and back on the road. As we ride towards our turnoff, a red construction truck pulls up to ask what we're doing for lunch. When we indicate that we're going to eat out somewhere on the salar, the guy in the truck, César, invites us to lunch! Soon our bikes are in the back of his truck and we're zooming away from the main road towards a construction camp. Usually there are over 70 workers at this place working on the construction project to pave the road, but now because of the holidays there are only two people here, César and Roberto. They work for 15 days taking care of this camp and the road, then have 15 days off. <br />
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These two guys could not have been more gracious hosts. They take us in as if we were old friends. What follows is a delicious lunch cooked by chef César, and amazing hot showers. We had originally planned to continue biking in the afternoon, but we end up staying for more laughs and a huge pasta dinner. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYepU8BOT02_oSTcK3nACmnlWsFNhcc5-nhBY5drWAUvg9NcqBs6ogF6caYsmR_sgRvxEJdUxZ29DpeMw1eJ8r-qXexLzaY1OAL86lUr6wKpBpJ7cAS8C-kArieUBuh4jbFSWfs8yU2Q/s1600/CSC_5982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYepU8BOT02_oSTcK3nACmnlWsFNhcc5-nhBY5drWAUvg9NcqBs6ogF6caYsmR_sgRvxEJdUxZ29DpeMw1eJ8r-qXexLzaY1OAL86lUr6wKpBpJ7cAS8C-kArieUBuh4jbFSWfs8yU2Q/s640/CSC_5982.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Industrial size pasta, yayyyyyy</td></tr>
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Roberto is originally from Bolivia and has a family and large farm back home. César is from southern Chile, and when he's not here he sings in a group called the Canarios del Sur that remixes popular songs with a very "in style" rhythm. Check out their awesome music videos here. You'll want them to sing at your party too!<br />
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In the morning, César and Roberto promise to take us back to where they picked us up yesterday. But when we arrive, they decide to keep driving, explaining, "we'll just take you to the next junction." This happens several times until they've been driving us for over an hour! We are more than appreciative. This makes up for the distance we had to go out of the way for immigration and skips a big section of really bad road through the same valley we had already biked through twice. <br />
So many thanks to César and Roberto! We will never forgot your unexpected kindness in the middle of nowhere. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our wonderful new friends and their trusty truck</td></tr>
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Almost as soon as we start riding again, some workers from the nearby mine pull up to see if we need any water. We appreciate them asking, but we have far more than enough!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remote and beautiful</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some sandy pushing</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding again</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lizard friend!</td></tr>
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Late in the day, we´re given a respite from the sand and wind by the arrival of the same trucks from before. The first truck asks if we need a ride, the second offers water, and the third hands us snacks out the window. We can hardly express our thanks before they're pulling away. We are left, amazed, in the howling wind, happily munching on chocolate bars. <br />
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We can hardly believe what is happening when yet another truck pulls up to see if we are doing ok. We assure them that we're doing fine, but we're wondering if we could camp behind a building at the mine as a wind break. The guys look at each other and immediately offer us a bed inside, sending us off with a note to give to a unknown guy named Alex. So, not sure what to expect, we continue biking towards the mine. <br />
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Just half an hour later we are sitting in a doctor exam room. Apparently every visitor to the mine is required to undergo a physical exam to make sure that they are okay at the high altitude. Since we've been biking at altitude for weeks, we both feel this to be a bit unnecessary, but we both listen patiently while the doctor informs us that we are in excellent physical condition and that we shouldn't eat any vegetables (especially cauliflower) because it will inflate our stomachs. It´s hard to keep a straight face. One benefit of the exam? We leave with sticks of cocoa butter for our dry lips. Yummy!</div>
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Next we are shown to our room. We expected bunk beds, but no, we are shown to a luxury suite! We have two huge beds, a hot shower, five rolls of toilet paper, a humidifier because the air is dry, bottles of water, and two TVs. We don´t even know what to do with all this space! We put our clothes on one shelf of the enormous closet and then sit down, a bit dumbfounded. How did we end up here? This is one of the nicest places we've ever stayed! The evening gets even better when we are taken down to the mine cafeteria for a huge dinner, including a salad with cauliflower. When we return to our room we find two chocolate bars, and juices and cereals for breakfast. What an adorable surprise! More than pampered, we finally fall asleep in style.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our suite at the mine</td></tr>
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We leave the mine with full bellies and rested legs, thankful for our unique experience. When else would we ever spend the night at a gold mine?! Even better, we had been instructed not to ride through the mine - the amount of traffic means it's hazardous for us and for them - so we begin our second day in a row getting a lift in a pickup truck. The intimidating road through the mine ascends very steeply for a few kilometers; it would have taken us hours. Instead we start our day heading downhill, thankfully on a much smoother road than yesterday, yippee!<br />
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There is some traffic here and there, and as we're stopped by the side of the road to let some trucks pass, the guys inside stop to chat. We politely refuse offers of water from the first two. In the third pickup are the same guys who gave us some snacks yesterday, and they don't ask us if we need water. Instead, they hand us two giant bags of snacks and wish us well before driving away! Tam and I are floored, which seems to be happening quite often these days, but we can't fit this much more food on our bikes! Especially the bottles of Sprite. So we take an extended break and happily munch through enough sugar to kill a hamster.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcC3b_MSMvUj4Aa2XxwgWKEa9mczpj1wbY0vXRJ8OrgY5wa4tJSATYEKmGuiTDnD_te3HVhZqgyDjIED0ytnSVj7MXvbc1x8g73eCFCoDm9e9kA6ossieYZwkYMlvrKNtPiA9GngjqTg/s1600/CSC_6002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcC3b_MSMvUj4Aa2XxwgWKEa9mczpj1wbY0vXRJ8OrgY5wa4tJSATYEKmGuiTDnD_te3HVhZqgyDjIED0ytnSVj7MXvbc1x8g73eCFCoDm9e9kA6ossieYZwkYMlvrKNtPiA9GngjqTg/s640/CSC_6002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What do we do with all this food?!</td></tr>
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Soon enough we burn it off, of course. The road takes us up and over a steep hill, and for the first time we see the actual mine, layered cuts descending deep down into the earth. Perhaps I'm biased because we've been shmoozed by this mine like we're politicians, but it doesn't seem so bad. People value gold, so there will be mines, and this seems like a good place. No vegetation, wildlife, or people to displace or uproot. Just some rocks and the machines to extract them, hidden away in a remote corner of the Andes. <br />
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From the top of our mini pass we descend for hours through colorful valleys to the little village of La Guardia, all two houses of it. Then we start climbing again; such is life in the mountains. As we wind our way through a narrow canyon following a turbid stream, we discuss the past year. It's December 31, the last day of 2015, and we reminisce about our experiences from our last day of 2014 way back in Mexico all the way to today. Incredibly we remember almost all of it: where we camped on a certain night, that guy we talked to in some little town, what the roads were like. I'm sure we've forgotten more than a few details, but our constant adaptation to the changing environment means we've been awake and alive more than ever. I only hope we can continue living so vividly!<br />
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Around 6 pm we finally see our goal for the day: Chilean immigration. We're sure the guys there will be having a fiesta, and we would like to share the good cheer as the new year rolls around. But... we roll up to find the place deserted. The gates are broken, the flags are in tatters, and some wrecked furniture is strewn around the yard. They must have moved! Ah, well, no matter, at least we are able to make use of one of the offices. We're out of the wind and asleep by 9, very far mentally and physically from party hats and countdowns.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbDtjodiWTNu48AI9dmY8HLQ2QF7Co6mW4XYljK5KKLHwgKLw4PopmRnhyphenhyphenG_iEhvUrzsspCmvyIVoudcKoXy6IC5VtVP_udvtsJfKO4Uupa_YKxgvw90buVVonaS-XkhLRvtZcunpxO8/s1600/CSC_6003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbbDtjodiWTNu48AI9dmY8HLQ2QF7Co6mW4XYljK5KKLHwgKLw4PopmRnhyphenhyphenG_iEhvUrzsspCmvyIVoudcKoXy6IC5VtVP_udvtsJfKO4Uupa_YKxgvw90buVVonaS-XkhLRvtZcunpxO8/s640/CSC_6003.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deserted immigration buildings</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VAFWjgEwozYAGVFtRCcRTCLvutcrzIztsWsWcBD9ijwNlJtDtZs2RKroB6AnzsoWAdghJzwKvcELC4TILnX1nTQdFAwykV3yqsuTm1kU7ZpHcCPU2ifPYzrX1bOQyGgUPbxdytFz1nE/s1600/CSC_6004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VAFWjgEwozYAGVFtRCcRTCLvutcrzIztsWsWcBD9ijwNlJtDtZs2RKroB6AnzsoWAdghJzwKvcELC4TILnX1nTQdFAwykV3yqsuTm1kU7ZpHcCPU2ifPYzrX1bOQyGgUPbxdytFz1nE/s640/CSC_6004.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An interesting place to bring in the new year</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIB6VZ7jZygU-zG6pIYazupXfw1kvc-8tz38HjWmjeHLZMVcKO6XXWWFrHebRIyDnTwc9znrHBhtUsHVwj_qgYxX5SVGVqnr-AzwOc5aDMSkNHPe52zaVafOMe2KA7UIy7i5mMhyphenhyphendC0k/s1600/CSC_6005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIB6VZ7jZygU-zG6pIYazupXfw1kvc-8tz38HjWmjeHLZMVcKO6XXWWFrHebRIyDnTwc9znrHBhtUsHVwj_qgYxX5SVGVqnr-AzwOc5aDMSkNHPe52zaVafOMe2KA7UIy7i5mMhyphenhyphendC0k/s640/CSC_6005.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our sleeping setup in the SAG office</td></tr>
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The next morning takes us up to the high pass Pircas Negras, and though we're tired after hours of steep climbing, the beautiful, multi-colored valley that greets us has me in awe like a kid walking into Disney World. Several times I almost ride off the road, eyes stuck to the view.<br />
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A few pedals later and we're back over the line in Argentina, though still legally in Chile. Where is immigration? We ride by some more fields of gravel, snowy peaks all around, the wind fortunately behind, until reaching our goal for the day: Barrancas Blancas, a camp for local workers. We also find the new immigration complex there, having moved the year before, and though they take their sweet time to check our documents, we don't mind waiting, as we are taking advantage of the fast wi-fi. In the end we work everything out, and they don't even check our food. I guess it didn't matter that I had hidden our smuggled cheese, illegal to bring into Chile and now illegal again to bring into Argentina (although we had bought it there), deep in my pockets. The guys at the camp then show us to a room with some bunk beds, our fourth night in a row inside on this supposedly remote route!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJaZk8wOSGobyXJWq0yCA3k4-ir_UnuB3nhlRZUqG5WwoqKx3eHWbKE31pe2ipfsrky_4fU6W1GOHfLhxcis6QdqXUg45ZIT2cKomLnb8BzT-HLklLjsblG8kscA_OdHw39QwxEpuNPs/s1600/CSC_6053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSJaZk8wOSGobyXJWq0yCA3k4-ir_UnuB3nhlRZUqG5WwoqKx3eHWbKE31pe2ipfsrky_4fU6W1GOHfLhxcis6QdqXUg45ZIT2cKomLnb8BzT-HLklLjsblG8kscA_OdHw39QwxEpuNPs/s640/CSC_6053.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice place to spend the night </td></tr>
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The frigid morning quickly turns sweaty as we make our way up a big hill. After not having seen any vehicles or travelers for over a day, we are surprised to see two cyclists heading down the hill toward us! Evo and Bridget, from Switzerland, woke up at 4 to beat the wind, but unfortunately for them, it's already howling at 8:30 am. We trade some stories and route notes before continuing our separate ways, happy to have met some like-minded crazies under blue skies at The Middle of Nowhere, Argentina.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDsfBR2uvYMIFNdBlEKc_37QuWuBPl9bqupcCDTNIAT0CpsvPxMZACcQWJPh9RmNtYAfNRGw-jAEnlpCTsZRP69f14E0PaclgEFRW91tRrgyQXYj5ozLzs-1X5iCU0fDAQKxdse7FwgM/s1600/CSC_6075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDsfBR2uvYMIFNdBlEKc_37QuWuBPl9bqupcCDTNIAT0CpsvPxMZACcQWJPh9RmNtYAfNRGw-jAEnlpCTsZRP69f14E0PaclgEFRW91tRrgyQXYj5ozLzs-1X5iCU0fDAQKxdse7FwgM/s640/CSC_6075.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wasn't the Argentinian side supposed to be paved?</td></tr>
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10 turns into 11 and 11 into 12 as we ride through a screaming crosswind next to the brilliant Laguna Brava. Although we want to stop and eat lunch, where? There are no mounds of dirt, no boulders, certainly no trees to block the wind, and we're not keen on eating sand. We did that enough in Bolivia. It doesn't help that it's Saturday and all the tourists are out to see the lake, so we spend a while chatting with everybody that passes. Everyone is incredibly friendly. Many ask us if we need water, and some get out of their cars to take selfies with us! By 2 we finally find an acceptable spot to eat, and we relish our time at elevation and under the sun. The mountains down south are smaller. Maybe this will be the last 4,000 meter pass we do for a long time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaRw7kQ7IU94PBa8sScjYqz6-oO3dFDSMip2fved5_rq5ndJbaodqM_0a4YKaNjgE8GRUu9sOAetOZzGabT8TYzsp-bYKmpDfMGew1brUEwTp69nC6Nr62UI8DNY-dsiqnq31pzeLBi4/s1600/CSC_6076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNaRw7kQ7IU94PBa8sScjYqz6-oO3dFDSMip2fved5_rq5ndJbaodqM_0a4YKaNjgE8GRUu9sOAetOZzGabT8TYzsp-bYKmpDfMGew1brUEwTp69nC6Nr62UI8DNY-dsiqnq31pzeLBi4/s640/CSC_6076.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brilliant views from the top of the pass</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYm9gGCoEXTAHO7eOV1jjdEmuqerqRVZhX2kHPl2RNZ5cCFJojhwrOTTKIJQpaXk7Z6LOCLkr0U53ukKTN1zFZbFcqhZQqeq3H_ZrEI6seku6TIIj_eshngIzx_gq5pFInox9JSY2Cuk/s1600/CSC_6077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYm9gGCoEXTAHO7eOV1jjdEmuqerqRVZhX2kHPl2RNZ5cCFJojhwrOTTKIJQpaXk7Z6LOCLkr0U53ukKTN1zFZbFcqhZQqeq3H_ZrEI6seku6TIIj_eshngIzx_gq5pFInox9JSY2Cuk/s640/CSC_6077.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Siesta time</td></tr>
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We bump downhill, teeth chattering on the washboard, stopping every so often to adjust the bags that vibrate loose. Finally reaching pavement at just under 10,000 feet, we set up camp by a gurgling, muddy river. Flies begin swarming as soon as we stop moving, and the sun beats down overhead, making an oven out of our tent. At 10,000 feet?! We're not even in the tropics anymore! I guess we'll have to keep heading south.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things get stormy as the sun goes down</td></tr>
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After a thunderous night, the morning is clear and bright. A quick downhill takes us to the town of Jague, where we eat breakfast and then continue on to the town of Vinchina. Our road shoots us towards a chain of mountains that are so rocky and textured that they look pixelated, like a fake digital backdrop against the pale blue sky. Soon we're biking among them, surrounded by great uplifted fins of rock. I feel as if we are riding through a giant school of prehistoric, half-submerged fish. Imagination is fun. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysoccIaYQa3wXwgY9tzvMudtcLc2TPvNtZlPdbHshc1EDy4SZq-8sP5214w61qzT1wJtmEPml65luGvFvItrqniugnlwUad0LcME72QGzll2Cafa9jbeF_S4U3Vhx7uCZwZBBs7Mte5w/s1600/CSC_6106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysoccIaYQa3wXwgY9tzvMudtcLc2TPvNtZlPdbHshc1EDy4SZq-8sP5214w61qzT1wJtmEPml65luGvFvItrqniugnlwUad0LcME72QGzll2Cafa9jbeF_S4U3Vhx7uCZwZBBs7Mte5w/s640/CSC_6106.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost ran over this little guy!</td></tr>
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There is something about the hot desert air that absorbs odors. The river that we're following is milk chocolate in color and smells of viscous mud; the desert plants release an herbal perfume that I don't recognize; my sweat sticks my clothes to my body. I try to ignore that smell. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQHnNsQi3P3b8dZhv5qNFAoKNLG418tvO3VE8UwkPmPjyXEVOIsBfGcUzPqM2lzBThMldby0gcc6kd_K3978FBy5IaGyLSHzG17wWKe2f8AOm-s65mM5DZ7DQDRU_rhPZ4hltwjcN1p4/s1600/CSC_6108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQHnNsQi3P3b8dZhv5qNFAoKNLG418tvO3VE8UwkPmPjyXEVOIsBfGcUzPqM2lzBThMldby0gcc6kd_K3978FBy5IaGyLSHzG17wWKe2f8AOm-s65mM5DZ7DQDRU_rhPZ4hltwjcN1p4/s640/CSC_6108.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what happened here in terms of the geological history...but it's pretty awesome</td></tr>
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Our road disintegrates into rocks and washboard as we wind through the canyon. It looks like erosion from the river has made it impossible for the pavement to survive. It's a relief for our butts when we finally break out into a wide valley and see Vinchina in the distance. The shady town plaza makes a perfect spot for lunch. </div>
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Biking out of town, the houses and businesses continue on for kilometers. It seems like instead of being built around a central plaza, towns here are oriented along one central street. When we finally pass the last house, we realize how much the wind has picked up. We have a raging headwind, and dust clouds blot the desert landscape ahead. Biking the 25 kilometers in a sandstorm is exhausting. Luckily, our afternoon takes an upswing when we arrive and are met at the local store with ice cream and cold water from some friendly ladies. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandswept landscape</td></tr>
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We wake up early after a surprisingly noisy night camped outside the small-town church and enjoy the cool weather and gorgeous sunrise as we pedal south out of town. On the way we stop for breakfast, and I realize as I'm finishing my cereal that, having dropped a peanut, I'm surrounded by ants. What first seems to be an annoyance quickly turns into fascination as we watch about fifty of the tiny insects gather together to transport this enormous boulder, aka giant feast. It reminds us of the time we, with about twenty coworkers, moved a building, only the ants are much more efficient and don't worry about throwing out their backs. There's a TED talk about what we humans can learn from ants, but, after watching them for a while, it all seems pretty obvious.<br />
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Without the powerful headwind of the previous day, we're able to cover quickly the 35 kilometers or so to Villa Union. Our plan is to bus from there to Mendoza, avoiding the lowland heat and boredom of Route 40. We soon learn that the only buses heading south leave daily at 7 am, so we´ll be on tomorrow´s departure and take advantage of the day in this picturesque pueblo. Unfortunately the schedule that the locals have adopted makes running errands very inconvenient for us foreigners. Business owners piddle around for a bit in the morning, closing for a siesta at 12:30 or 1 then opening again around 6, their lights staying on late into the night. The ice cream parlor is open until 2 am! I thought only pizza joints in college towns worked like that. So we do what we can in terms of errands, finding a quiet campground with a pool and a spacious dirt yard to work on the bikes, and an ice cream parlor nearby, which we visit twice. The other folks at the campground, an Argentinian extended family vacationing on summer break, are eating dinner as we go to bed around 10:30 pm. <br />
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The next morning we pack up early and attempt to head over to the bus station, but we find the campground gate locked! We can't get out! After frantically and unsuccessfully trying to call the owner, who apparently shows up at 7 (the same time our bus would be leaving without us on it), the other campers aid our escape by helping us lift our bikes over the six-foot chainlink fence. We make it to the bus terminal with ten minutes to spare, breathing a sigh of relief. <br />
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Relaxing in our seats, we teleport to San Juan, where we change buses and then sit down for a few more hours to Mendoza. Really exhausting day. Mendoza is just below some massive mountains in the heart of Argentinian wine country - 70% of the stuff comes from here - and we enjoy the city immensely.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHbeZOoc7_KGzzMS2Y1V58ZRK7TFiE94j3d_nC2sclkcUq-a6dvvBgSR6V7LfNQoWW2r2svmPjX3bY21HEN3rRa9FoNsUqWEHWc8KPyp2eqZ1W0UxLRmspv8NxiyrSMwNNwK4HEYJAtM/s1600/CSC_6129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHbeZOoc7_KGzzMS2Y1V58ZRK7TFiE94j3d_nC2sclkcUq-a6dvvBgSR6V7LfNQoWW2r2svmPjX3bY21HEN3rRa9FoNsUqWEHWc8KPyp2eqZ1W0UxLRmspv8NxiyrSMwNNwK4HEYJAtM/s640/CSC_6129.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Mendoza is home to multiple gorgeous plazas and lots of trees!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giant menorah!</td></tr>
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Why the title of this blog? We thought that this ride would be remote and desolate, and that each day we would be getting blown away by the fierce winds of the area. Instead, we were blown away by the tremendous warmth and generosity of the people we met along the way. Thank you to everyone for making this one of the best parts of our trip so far.<br />
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Route notes:<br />
Yup, the Pikes covered this one, too (who else?). See <a href="http://andesbybike.com/argentina/routes/belen-to-tinogasta/" target="_blank">here</a> for the Cuesta de Zapata and <a href="http://andesbybike.com/argentina/routes/fiambala-to-villa-union/" target="_blank">here </a>for San Francisco and Pircas Negras. </div>
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All the hotels/hostels in Mendoza seemed to be twice the usual price when we showed up, and indeed, when friends of ours asked around a few days later, everything was much cheaper. We ended up staying at Life House Hostel on Gutierrez near Parque Chile. It wasn't the most glamorous place, but it cost about half of what every other hostel had quoted us, and about twice as much as it would have had we showed up a few days later.</div>
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Businesses are open in the morning until about 1 pm and then again at 5-5:30 pm until 8-8:30 pm.</div>
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Mendoza's two best bike shops of the four we went to are on the corner of Lavalle and Videla, aka Ruta 40. Like all imported products, disc brake pads were expensive, probably significantly cheaper in Chile.</div>
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The only Internet cafe we saw is in the southeast corner of the main plaza. Two casas de cambio are on Catamarca and San Martin. Bars line Villanueva Aristides/Colon west of the plaza. </div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10407730675071801678noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-12558753100818407692016-01-06T10:47:00.004-08:002016-04-27T08:50:00.538-07:00Mountains to Desert, December 20-22<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Antofagasta de la Sierra-El Peñon-Barranca Larga-Villa Vil-El Eje-Belén</i></div>
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Leaving our little hostel in Antofagasta de la Sierra, the old lady who owns it asks us for 50 extra pesos to pay for the gas we used in the kitchen. The money isn't a problem (50 pesos is only about $4) but we're frustrated that she didn't tell us before when we settled on a price for the room and use of the kitchen. When we ask her to please inform future tourists that they need to pay extra for gas ahead of time, she gets angry and says that everyone already knows they have to pay for gas. Since we have never had to pay extra for gas, perhaps this is something that only happens in Argentina? <br />
We learn an important lesson: don't assume that anything is included in the price, even if they say it's okay to use it. We pay the money and leave.<br />
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It's a bit of a rough start to the morning. We didn't want to cause
problems with the owner, since she had been so nice, but sometimes
cultural expectations can cause misunderstandings. We're happy to be on
the road and spend the morning zooming by huge black volcanic rocks and
the cones that spewed them out, talking about culture and communication.
Our road is paved for the first time in a while, so we make great
progress.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cindery volcanos dot the landscape</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizostyYwGYoIYNVFMWhEJVk4kYlSUoTCsKeO7lBMFqxGMmVLbvjUh0JDT7Jy3h8WsQ827lVnv1NyRy_5E8IGbM1DCYi_4vx9syU1Yz7idMImsTyQT78Gxnw4ZBDmVJFxZaD93EiBQb5AU/s1600/CSC_5740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizostyYwGYoIYNVFMWhEJVk4kYlSUoTCsKeO7lBMFqxGMmVLbvjUh0JDT7Jy3h8WsQ827lVnv1NyRy_5E8IGbM1DCYi_4vx9syU1Yz7idMImsTyQT78Gxnw4ZBDmVJFxZaD93EiBQb5AU/s640/CSC_5740.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Around lunch time we arrive in a small town, and when we stop to fill up water at a police station, the two friendly officers invite us to eat inside. What a welcome respite from the wind!<br />
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When we emerge outside once more, the wind is still howling but it's mostly at our backs. We travel up and down the undulations of the landscape, passing numerous valleys filled with golden grasses and matching vicunas and rheas. The princess in Rumplestiltskin should have brought the king here. Is this enough gold for you? It's beautiful. <br />
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It's hard to beat this landscape illuminated by the morning sun. Behind us is a 6000+ meter mountain with a long ridgeline decorated in ribbons of snow. Ahead is a mountain that appears to have a long glacier on it, but the "glacier" is actually just a crazy-looking rock formation. Our descent brings us into a steep canyon where we discover enormous sand dunes that have spilled over the rock walls in gentle waves. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sand beats mountain</td></tr>
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Before long we're out of the mountains and into the lowland desert. It's hot but surprisingly green. We stop under a lovely shady tree for lunch; how I've missed trees! As we eat we're approached by a local guy. He's thin, with his belt cinched tight around his waist and a lined, sun-worn face. When we inquire about what he does here he explains that his family has a farm, but they can't grow much right now because it's so dry and it hasn't rained in a long time. They used to have a lot of animals, but now all the kids have grown up and gone to the cities, and the community here is much smaller. It sounds like urbanization, and perhaps climate change, is slowly becoming the death of the northern Argentinian farmer. <br />
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Heading down the road we do see a good amount of livestock enjoying the cool mud and water in the rivers. It's our first sighting of the famous Argentinian beef! There are also tons of new birds down here. Our favorite? Several large and noisy flocks of burrowing parrots perched on a mottled sandstone cliff. What rambunctious birds!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our chattering friends</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first vineyard sighting</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A regal southern caracara</td></tr>
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The next morning marks our first ride on Route 40. With a length of over 5,000 kilometers, this road is famous for being one of the longest roads in the world, and in fact, it would be easy for us to stay on it. We'd be in Ushuaia in less than two months! But of course, we're not doing that, as it would be far too boring. Instead we're planning on spending the next two weeks doing a remote, challenging, and beautiful loop in the mountains that will bring us little southerly progress! <br />
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Route notes:<br />
As usual, the Pikes have got it covered<a href="http://andesbybike.com/argentina/routes/salar-de-pocitos-to-el-eje/" target="_blank"> here.</a> In Belen, everything is a bit pricey except for ice cream; check out any of the many places around the main plaza.Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10407730675071801678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-16202575044681697682015-12-18T17:37:00.000-08:002016-02-02T09:08:56.111-08:0018(.5) Months: The StatsWith just a few short breaks, we´ve now been going for over a year and a half! To sum it up in numbers...<br>
<u>Distance bicycled:</u> 15,108 miles (24,314 kilometers), approximately<br>
<u>Countries visited:</u> 14<br>
<u>Bird species positively identified:</u> 509<br>
<u>4,000-meter (13,100-foot) passes bicycled</u>: 43<br>
<u>Highest altitude bicycled (loaded):</u> 16,325 feet (4,976 meters), Punta Pumacocha, Peru<br>
<u>Highest altitude bicycled (unloaded): </u>18,900 feet (5,760 meters), Cerro Uturuncu, Bolivia<br>
<u>Highest altitude attained on foot:</u> 20,144 feet (6,140 meters), Volcan Queva, Argentina<br>
<u>Most water carried up a pass:</u> 9 liters (2.25 gallons) each<br>
<u>Most water carried at a time:</u> 12 liters (3 gallons) each<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awkward flamingos at the Bolivia-Chile border with Hannes and Julia, our wonderful friends from Germany</td></tr>
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Just for kicks, we tallied up how many cycle tourists of each
nationality we have met during our past year in Latin America (Mexico and
south). The winners:<br>
France: 10<br>
Germany: 9<br>
Canada: 5<br>
Spain: 5<br>
Our US of A is not too far behind with four, three of whom are from the
Bay Area and two of whom are solo females. Rock on, Adriana and Huyen!<br>
<br>
Controlling for the populations of these countries can tell us how
likely someone from those countries is to go cycle touring in Latin
America (and meet us, of course)! Compared to the US, here´s how much more likely we are to meet someone from one of these countries on the road:<br>
<br>
Canada: 11.3x<br>
England: 2.5x<br>
France: 12.1x<br>
Germany: 8.9x<br>
Mexico: 1.3x<br>
The Netherlands: 14.2x<br>
Poland: 6.2x<br>
Spain: 8.5x<br>
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We included here all countries from which we have met more than one group of cyclists. Is your country not on the list? Get on a bike and start pedaling! And find us, of course, so that we include you!<br>
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*This is not a scientific study. For another cyclist to meet us while on the road requires an element of randomness; were we on more traveled routes, surely we would have much more accurate statistics! But we can at least see that we should be meeting more cyclists from the US based on its population, not to mention its proximity to Latin America. Dannyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10856022851115122032noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-31517400751559927332015-12-18T17:33:00.002-08:002016-04-27T08:52:32.116-07:00Northern Argentina: Where Even the Singletrack is Washboardy, December15-18<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Santa Rosa de los Pastos Grandes-Salar del Hombre Muerto-Abra Falda Cienaga-Antofagasta de la Sierra</i></div>
<br />
We leave Santa Rosa in the morning with more water than we have ever carried on our bikes: 12 liters each! For our route south, we have only information the locals have given us (which will join with the andesbybike route in a couple days) and we don't want to take chances with water. Thus, the bikes are feeling a bit heavy, but that can't stop us from enjoying the scenery. We pass lagunas and salars with vibrant flamingos, and some not-so-vibrant flamingos. We wonder, why are two of them entirely brown?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitqHBjhYbHSxkCVeB09QG3K7u5QCUdtyVK37VHWuQH5dl8pPnqXoMGV9jV8fwtxed109haHsHsJQjW2ej1VFAYEJOU8LYJ_ao-7rRZTn_5AjzANXF4gkXVs2daREcjgoldvUNwEniF0V4/s1600/CSC_5566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitqHBjhYbHSxkCVeB09QG3K7u5QCUdtyVK37VHWuQH5dl8pPnqXoMGV9jV8fwtxed109haHsHsJQjW2ej1VFAYEJOU8LYJ_ao-7rRZTn_5AjzANXF4gkXVs2daREcjgoldvUNwEniF0V4/s640/CSC_5566.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful birds</td></tr>
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We pedal through a canyon with incredible rock formations, huge rounded mounds of stone with odd protrusions. I name one "the melting dinosaur." And let's not forget the vicuñas. They are everywhere. Racing across the wide open plains, framed against the perfect blue sky and gentle greenish hills, they look like something straight out of a National Geographic special.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0sRCxgYtKWPiHPFjmL9pcJsSEdUAPXuyYz7OVDxJzIguIbwQslS15SyKKVK5LVSvAWNWIIQFIc_o8cUA8d1-hzphHYlj-XXekM9K8-LcavCUpDH43NN6s5OMw7S3LtcmYBQIjX0HGLA/s1600/CSC_5660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0sRCxgYtKWPiHPFjmL9pcJsSEdUAPXuyYz7OVDxJzIguIbwQslS15SyKKVK5LVSvAWNWIIQFIc_o8cUA8d1-hzphHYlj-XXekM9K8-LcavCUpDH43NN6s5OMw7S3LtcmYBQIjX0HGLA/s640/CSC_5660.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perfect vicuña habitat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxsAug4WsS_sBxwLt8GgdwfxPJiy6gTARVyI22MC23RJEHyffyrIXwn9T9IlyjSXCx8esCOTT8DiGvTiclG_cYS_sC06QGusS_R-fip1Nyad72oJemDwIF1i1qkwk5pkbWSbjUaXhAuIU/s1600/CSC_5575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxsAug4WsS_sBxwLt8GgdwfxPJiy6gTARVyI22MC23RJEHyffyrIXwn9T9IlyjSXCx8esCOTT8DiGvTiclG_cYS_sC06QGusS_R-fip1Nyad72oJemDwIF1i1qkwk5pkbWSbjUaXhAuIU/s640/CSC_5575.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes you just have to stop and stare</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iaqBQ5oik8hukztNmNNBdkwbglAMXskYVCdtp5mqh0UFFMY_InbVBHXJdgyaI4x1-gtaMoqkkf-X3f4tJ5WLEi_c7N0IE2KMnP8x96XEKDrg4Yov-AC-QaJB_QqGP0ARIiMn95EKNdU/s1600/CSC_5577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iaqBQ5oik8hukztNmNNBdkwbglAMXskYVCdtp5mqh0UFFMY_InbVBHXJdgyaI4x1-gtaMoqkkf-X3f4tJ5WLEi_c7N0IE2KMnP8x96XEKDrg4Yov-AC-QaJB_QqGP0ARIiMn95EKNdU/s640/CSC_5577.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mining in the salar. Does anyone know what these parallel lines of rock are?</td></tr>
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After lunch we stop a a mine close to the road, figuring that it wouldn't hurt to top off on water. To our surprise, the guys are so friendly, they don't just top off our bottles, they send us off with six liters! Later in the afternoon, a mine vehicle stops and gives us 3 more liters of water! These guys are just too nice. We literally can't figure out what to do with all this water and all the bottles, on our normally lightly loaded bikes.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioQHhGAiN3D8nYzFGUsRRirUYPfcWIml8DfOfY4Gsyx3cQhuqD1bVrvTzYTKU8PNj968czYZf3Nq8_uwJ9HFEGWtVYsWTg69BDHGdQ48CgHxY60LG67jL_Ndyf86G8xtVxvguzIbNZPxY/s1600/CSC_5578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioQHhGAiN3D8nYzFGUsRRirUYPfcWIml8DfOfY4Gsyx3cQhuqD1bVrvTzYTKU8PNj968czYZf3Nq8_uwJ9HFEGWtVYsWTg69BDHGdQ48CgHxY60LG67jL_Ndyf86G8xtVxvguzIbNZPxY/s640/CSC_5578.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinking like a champ</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRvyt8jAuNbF_AWJmCF36lX5QC3e1P7O2Y4ThcRk77LXrri4pX-YsH0ulQxDoPE9amhdMV3Ba4aQWddH0A3yAteydGdN0AtFsWE-uPDWRzeqw9FJTtayW3eQx01hqikzWzU_AW4abuLHg/s1600/CSC_5581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRvyt8jAuNbF_AWJmCF36lX5QC3e1P7O2Y4ThcRk77LXrri4pX-YsH0ulQxDoPE9amhdMV3Ba4aQWddH0A3yAteydGdN0AtFsWE-uPDWRzeqw9FJTtayW3eQx01hqikzWzU_AW4abuLHg/s640/CSC_5581.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is it possible to have too much water? We later found another bottle stashed away in one of our bags.</td></tr>
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It's hot and windy in the afternoon and the extra water is appreciated. We also experience two of what I like to call "cloud moments," those wonderful seconds when a cloud sweeps across the sky and covers the sun, shielding you beneath it. Oh, what a fantastic and fleeting relief.<br />
We are also entertained by a small aplomado falcon who is surprised by us as we go by, but as he attempts to fly off he is blasted back by the wind, bright feathers splayed wide. He ends up flying a bit farther down the road, where the same thing happens as we pass him again.<br />
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We camp behind a small abandoned house in a cloud of dusty goat poop. It's far from optimal, but it's the only windbreak out here that we can find and we're too tired to look for anything else.<br />
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We spend the next morning being entertained by the vicuñas. Inevitably, as we approach, they spook and run across the road in front of us. The challenge is to predict when they will begin to run, and then to get the camera out in time for the money shot... as you might notice, no pictures made it into this blog. Vicuña action photography is a work in progress. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj8oFN8l_klcQQZAXL8p0UG7TLZtQ4YvEg5an1G2PC7QLpGYScPmwHtvELPYyMY1NvKsMCsej3Xomv1gOP8hzh39Otast4tZgDCdl2ngbrm6QcnJJjzPngYgcs5SKMg8b19wn8RKtTtO8/s1600/CSC_5579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj8oFN8l_klcQQZAXL8p0UG7TLZtQ4YvEg5an1G2PC7QLpGYScPmwHtvELPYyMY1NvKsMCsej3Xomv1gOP8hzh39Otast4tZgDCdl2ngbrm6QcnJJjzPngYgcs5SKMg8b19wn8RKtTtO8/s640/CSC_5579.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild and remote</td></tr>
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More climbing than we expect brings us to the top of a beautiful pass with vistas of snowy peaks, and then down to the route we have notes on from andesbybike. We spend the rest of the afternoon climbing another pass and fighting with the wind. It is so frustrating to me how picture perfect the scenery appears. What you can't see is the invisible menace! The wind howling and whipping, and occasionally coating our sunscreened bodies in a layer of sand that simply sticks and forms the baselayer for tomorrows sunscreen coat.<br />
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We entered a new province today! Hello, Catamarca! For the night we find a windbreak behind an unmanned police checkpoint.<br />
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Setting out early we find smooth riding on a salt flat... and realize that we've missed the turn-off for the shortcut we meant to take. Our longer route takes us across the salar, then back around, and up a big hill. Immediately after leaving the salar, the road deteriorates and sets the tone for the rest of the day. Washboard, sand, and wind. My butt is far from happy.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTEJ3NOzaA_6JbAzSFuEfKD4lzn3uJxQDBwdOjfluFc7Q5P6jziZHZgWF2wAmlQPbGGeYkqKcePvXcZuh7TvKTGsX_B5zDTvssD9mts_fFa2-AVek6ce7-vXm2PPIgMVFioE4jEoEhq0/s1600/CSC_5665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSTEJ3NOzaA_6JbAzSFuEfKD4lzn3uJxQDBwdOjfluFc7Q5P6jziZHZgWF2wAmlQPbGGeYkqKcePvXcZuh7TvKTGsX_B5zDTvssD9mts_fFa2-AVek6ce7-vXm2PPIgMVFioE4jEoEhq0/s640/CSC_5665.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The salar off the road is not quite so smooth, nothing like those Bolivian salars</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-o3Gm8catpOW0iZ7tvz8VY5JB9jagAPGJ26ZElmGPTI604X3q09UdNza-UqIKNuSFpb1vvUppOhiS54STNTfYjK5X_a28holPnEAVRr2Wq9bMZ4Kn8reppqbq38OKywLGDs4OPRiVZY/s1600/CSC_5670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-o3Gm8catpOW0iZ7tvz8VY5JB9jagAPGJ26ZElmGPTI604X3q09UdNza-UqIKNuSFpb1vvUppOhiS54STNTfYjK5X_a28holPnEAVRr2Wq9bMZ4Kn8reppqbq38OKywLGDs4OPRiVZY/s640/CSC_5670.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical road surface...fun</td></tr>
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Slowly we climb up a mountain pass, and then undulate across a giant expanse of red rock. We're tired but press on, because at this point we have limited water and need to make it to the next town early next morning. <br />
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Happily, late in the day we find an amazing rock formation which makes for a perfect windbreak, the only one we have found so far in Argentina. The wind is howling, and our tent is actually not moving. After a long day, it's such a relief to have such a great spot to sleep.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOq-WOyVWpC8a-swRiJCCAwiLQSSTTvxnSlFuVKc4O5DDZfhgFPg0OdvkNq5Q5HKsJgYUG4yjhXubWesbQ1oC5UNYyUG-uGIr2Cdt_r0d_ASuCXumwtn00kr0J6G8W4WWA6e5SMmQzXs/s1600/CSC_5676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOq-WOyVWpC8a-swRiJCCAwiLQSSTTvxnSlFuVKc4O5DDZfhgFPg0OdvkNq5Q5HKsJgYUG4yjhXubWesbQ1oC5UNYyUG-uGIr2Cdt_r0d_ASuCXumwtn00kr0J6G8W4WWA6e5SMmQzXs/s640/CSC_5676.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvljCzGXCS3dXYg0g7cdUpQUxOfL1Inn6ojVMOcpeOHgTtEukPVcu0HnSTMC5EYEl0e96rlCafH84H_KOSj0QOYLsb2wM0kt_EJXYVmJBasQc8AWAkTVTaizZ6Gm83zsL-VYg3ECoHAeQ/s1600/CSC_5714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvljCzGXCS3dXYg0g7cdUpQUxOfL1Inn6ojVMOcpeOHgTtEukPVcu0HnSTMC5EYEl0e96rlCafH84H_KOSj0QOYLsb2wM0kt_EJXYVmJBasQc8AWAkTVTaizZ6Gm83zsL-VYg3ECoHAeQ/s640/CSC_5714.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and nightfall<br />
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Today we made it into Antofagasta de la Sierra! A big town! aka small collection of adobe houses. However, they do have free internet, shops, and places to stay. Best of all? Rest day tomorrow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7VdcX1kGW54ecCSfcL5nYqJInyYl0r16GHFQtFM4-BmzVXAnhMgTX4Nc6uT_xSA24CczwDcwM92H0LcVoef4YpmhpjpvDaJo5IimZ4MpBLd0_v1eNn_zt7LOi-HwG_9cwZpJ-vRl3lWo/s1600/CSC_5671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7VdcX1kGW54ecCSfcL5nYqJInyYl0r16GHFQtFM4-BmzVXAnhMgTX4Nc6uT_xSA24CczwDcwM92H0LcVoef4YpmhpjpvDaJo5IimZ4MpBLd0_v1eNn_zt7LOi-HwG_9cwZpJ-vRl3lWo/s640/CSC_5671.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet Justin! He's from the UK, and has biked all around the world and back again!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCd88kLFpd0viT86SEBeQ81KOcaytcLIhbGdNXFy8HactdTf1-HVWTTggu3HSXGunxPaFaqb1gi8CZp-czIM-9JL1y_fjhqy3_VdITLZdFiGNymzw5X2nW8E35SyFNQeCMWris4qu33qs/s1600/CSC_5673.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCd88kLFpd0viT86SEBeQ81KOcaytcLIhbGdNXFy8HactdTf1-HVWTTggu3HSXGunxPaFaqb1gi8CZp-czIM-9JL1y_fjhqy3_VdITLZdFiGNymzw5X2nW8E35SyFNQeCMWris4qu33qs/s640/CSC_5673.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even the single track is washboardy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMtzy-UNEfF8GyWuV629cY2NPpIAc3VAMRQ7GYBBf349Qm1DzuFofgnBmd2O5YYjfvM37kvp0SniVhBsF8YPpDnhKKQSVpTuqfzdAjJNPdbyDElgr7hy3azRovwtrX_Eb9f4Zup3ou11M/s1600/CSC_5706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMtzy-UNEfF8GyWuV629cY2NPpIAc3VAMRQ7GYBBf349Qm1DzuFofgnBmd2O5YYjfvM37kvp0SniVhBsF8YPpDnhKKQSVpTuqfzdAjJNPdbyDElgr7hy3azRovwtrX_Eb9f4Zup3ou11M/s640/CSC_5706.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hmm, that's interesting</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1eVgVRjMF17fR_ikqkO85-4i_l0W-cP4EmJHcjgjtqLVW9baOkyW5DKecJ_mOyEELd6WOxqipXN-f4_NlTMtVpsfdgLNpxsY3j5Kpa58xXzi-1C5fWEVyl1iCIz-SrsRiNT6PU9NSTE/s1600/CSC_5708.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1eVgVRjMF17fR_ikqkO85-4i_l0W-cP4EmJHcjgjtqLVW9baOkyW5DKecJ_mOyEELd6WOxqipXN-f4_NlTMtVpsfdgLNpxsY3j5Kpa58xXzi-1C5fWEVyl1iCIz-SrsRiNT6PU9NSTE/s640/CSC_5708.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So many options for charging things here</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zLO1Z4DeQ3MOe-mG9RPQt9RTYA5Nr3d3na_lFD_eptJ_cxYJlR6QEO6xkLjQMuE5tBTmXuZ31YvSw4YjtifyM0wIH3ihJbttv4eAiVq4xaVkzygvAmY14GlHYte5eQ8tfelp7tvr3G4/s1600/CSC_5713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zLO1Z4DeQ3MOe-mG9RPQt9RTYA5Nr3d3na_lFD_eptJ_cxYJlR6QEO6xkLjQMuE5tBTmXuZ31YvSw4YjtifyM0wIH3ihJbttv4eAiVq4xaVkzygvAmY14GlHYte5eQ8tfelp7tvr3G4/s640/CSC_5713.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Classic tacky artwork at our little hotel<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Route notes:</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Many cyclists who do the type of routes we do cycle the western side of this region from Tolar Grande through Antofalla. That route is presumably more difficult, but I´m not sure how, as our route had no water and difficult road conditions the whole way with plenty of ups and downs. Pertinent information can be found<a href="http://andesbybike.com/argentina/routes/salar-de-pocitos-to-el-eje/" target="_blank"> here</a>. If doing Paso Socompa from Chile, it may simply be easier to head south from Tolar Grande. We went way east to climb Queva and, rather than backtracking to Pocitos and heading south from there, just headed straight south past a bunch of mines.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
The mines route we took travels roughly 120 km before meeting up with the Pikes´ route at km 91 of their notes (we didn`t have an odometer, so all distances are approximate). Other than a few sandy spots we slid through, the biggest challenges, as is typical with the region, were wind and water. It`s possible to fill up your bottles at the mines, but after Mina Maggie, about 60 km from Santa Rosa, there`s nothing except one small house until the detour to the mine on the south side of the Salar del Hombre Muerto.</div>
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Even though the wind lessens at night, it`s necessary to find some sort of windbreak. There are some rock sculptures about 40 km in that might make a decent spot, a corral at about km 75, behind which we camped on loads of goat dung, and some stacks of tires at about km 95. The corral, along with a decrepit cemetery, are off to the left of the road after climbing away from the salars. It´s possible to freestyle down to them, dodging spiky plants, or you´ll pass an access road leading to them about 500 meters later. The corral is owned by the goatherd who lives in the nearby house with his dogs, but he told us it was fine to camp there. We thought it was abandoned originally. He may also be able to offer water, but we didn´t need any more so didn´t ask.<br />
We marked a bunch of waypoints on the route, but I can`t figure out how to show them here on this map. Though the GPS track below was traced after the fact, not from an actual recording, it still accurately represents the route, and the waypoints (¨turn L¨, ¨High point¨, etc) may still be encoded in the GPS file. If not, and you would like them, send us an email and we´ll send you a gpx file with the waypoints in it.</div>
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="500px" src="//ridewithgps.com/routes/11562230/embed" width="100%"></iframe>
Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10407730675071801678noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7260588527074797370.post-25114102191679040172015-12-18T17:23:00.000-08:002016-02-02T09:12:13.348-08:00We Like Big Mountains and We Cannot Lie, December 11-14<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The Quest for Queva....</span></div>
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20 kilometers from our camp spot at the abandoned train station of Laguna Seca, we reach the town of Pocitos. Things at first appear windy and
deserted, except for a lady walking by with a young child. She helpfully directs us to the store in town
where we find a talkative lady who is extremely excited to have some
travelers passing through. Unfortunately
she talks super fast and doesn´t enunciate, trait we come to see are quite
common among Argentinians in this region. What are you supposed to do when you ask if there’s cheese and you get “cheshkjdshfj
dhjshdjh dshajdhs j”? Personally, I was hoping for “si”
or “no.”</div>
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<span lang="EN-US">In the end,
our visit to the town is successful. We
get the groceries we need (there was cheese) and enough water to sustain ourselves
to the town of Santa Rosa de los Pastos Grandes. We're hoping to arrive later
today in preparation for the climb of the mountain Queva! Why, you ask, are we
climbing a huge mountain shortly after returning to the bikes and high altitude
after a two-week break at sea level? That’s a good question. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Even we are thinking that it's a bit crazy, but we can't pass up the opportunity. The summit lies at over 20,000 feet, which would break our elevation record and is a notable benchmark. The mountain sits relatively close to our current route and is an "easy" climb, meaning that there's a good water source all the way up to base camp and no technical skills are required at this time of the year. We have to at least give it a shot. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">The ride to Santa Rosa brings us up and over a small mountain pass, but there'</span>s a nice stream that we follow for part of the way and plenty of wildlife. We spot green, parrot-like birds -- really, at this elevation? -- vicuñas, and flamingos. But my favorite part of the day is emerging from the dry, white, and windy salt flat and spotting green grass and bushes! The landscape here is colored by many minerals, but none of them beats the vibrant green of healthy grass. Sometimes, riding out here, I just miss water.<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big landscape, small cyclists<br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing colors</td></tr>
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We spend the night in an abandoned building on the outskirts of town, and then head up the mountain early next morning. We can ride 7 kilometers in, and the riding is sandy but beautiful, following the lush stream the whole way. By mid morning we're stashing the bikes behind a boulder and shoving what we'll need for the night and next day´s climb into our small backpacks. Our packs are not made to carry this much stuff and end up just looking comical. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Danny´s overstuffed pack. The water bag is being used as a sling.</td></tr>
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Slowly we begin to climb on foot. There's no trail, but the route is easy enough to follow. We wind up along the river valley, climbing up beside a waterfall and out into a giant alpine meadow. Along the way we meet wild vicuñas, llamas, and braying donkeys, all out to take advantage of the fertile landscape. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">llamas, llamas everywhere!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some casualties along the way</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRTOJFQ90lM7t2e5_m2ZK0h6ebkllXa3LvZXZS-gfg5RsADW80Ft4QLQa0VzR4T1cQCKQnIUEf5rLYjhkjua57q3unq3dPjg7dJ9mNPtpZNXqr1PjibJiUgBnOo7FxvIfTS8EvXCcxtk/s1600/CSC_5407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKRTOJFQ90lM7t2e5_m2ZK0h6ebkllXa3LvZXZS-gfg5RsADW80Ft4QLQa0VzR4T1cQCKQnIUEf5rLYjhkjua57q3unq3dPjg7dJ9mNPtpZNXqr1PjibJiUgBnOo7FxvIfTS8EvXCcxtk/s640/CSC_5407.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous meadows, Queva "peaking" out on the left </td></tr>
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Mid afternoon we reach the first camping area and spend a while simply watching the viscachas. These are hilarious animals that look like a cross between a squirrel and a rabbit. When we first arrive they bound up and away from us, but then they slowly return, their adorable little faces poking out between the rocks to check us out. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello!</td></tr>
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Since we have more daylight, we fill up on water and hike to the slightly higher base camp. There's a windbreak here, but it's not facing the direction the wind is currently blowing, and we are blasted all night. <br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun going down over base camp</td></tr>
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We had originally planned on waking up at five to begin to hike. But when the alarm goes off and it's still dark and super windy outside, I (the one usually up first in the morning) refuse to get out of the tent. We end up leaving around six, just as sunlight is beginning to light up the ridgeline. From our campsite the top of the mountain looked close. Not so. From the top of each ridge we climb, there's another ridge. Near the top, things get steep, and every step we take up, we slide down half a step in the scree. The going is extremely slow, but we drink lots of water and persevere. By the time we near the top, the sun is out enough to warm our cold feet and the frigid wind has actually died down a bit. A final traverse, and we've done it, we made it! Neither of us can quite believe it.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2bGDIClnSVPjxFwM8_CSeNoXr3Xc3m7MJoLaVStCfbTclpNZCQxeun1UwqdI6lrIOpTOIA3QCXL_mZApw4F9OVe_BhskdHrnAufTS52Nd_Ltc-6RoXWNArH99GvsLCwFzP54rghehXM/s1600/CSC_5471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2bGDIClnSVPjxFwM8_CSeNoXr3Xc3m7MJoLaVStCfbTclpNZCQxeun1UwqdI6lrIOpTOIA3QCXL_mZApw4F9OVe_BhskdHrnAufTS52Nd_Ltc-6RoXWNArH99GvsLCwFzP54rghehXM/s640/CSC_5471.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One thumb up for each 10,000 feet. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuv4qHH1EQ75WSBOt1yRD3kpZkjU207BPf3P0J3zgIXiECgXXxwVek0wfPjlZgCJluJa5q1wAJk0DHUdXLvqE4JeFcJCIRwLg-VK_q4owzf_Faoenm7vul48Rn5HXBVsy7E6IbFHkYKAw/s1600/CSC_5469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuv4qHH1EQ75WSBOt1yRD3kpZkjU207BPf3P0J3zgIXiECgXXxwVek0wfPjlZgCJluJa5q1wAJk0DHUdXLvqE4JeFcJCIRwLg-VK_q4owzf_Faoenm7vul48Rn5HXBVsy7E6IbFHkYKAw/s640/CSC_5469.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a great big beautiful world out there</td></tr>
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We take a bit of rest on the summit and some time to explore. Back to the north we can see where we rode into Argentina through Paso Sico, and perhaps way in the distance, is that Uturuncu (a big mountain we climbed in Bolivia)? We can't be sure. Just below the summit are some Inca ruins. Apparently a mummy and some artifacts were found up here! I can only imagine that that mummy must have been a very special person to have been buried up so high.</div>
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The summit log is on the slightly lower southern summit, but neither of us has the energy or desire to go climb it. Time to head back to the bikes.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSXkiJTy1Gl8ROlYaFbKfwCzNPN8gGvFd5NurYTdAcN1En9m5Zy0qh0hWySeDFeDBjh1LbacPL3B5L0kjMjbpXGh9hkwa1EvQQRiixjD9b3grG3xj6RsFvPEvODF1udmnSmRrKj6RzR-8/s1600/CSC_5472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSXkiJTy1Gl8ROlYaFbKfwCzNPN8gGvFd5NurYTdAcN1En9m5Zy0qh0hWySeDFeDBjh1LbacPL3B5L0kjMjbpXGh9hkwa1EvQQRiixjD9b3grG3xj6RsFvPEvODF1udmnSmRrKj6RzR-8/s640/CSC_5472.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Contemplating the way down</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5Xh6KgBRqUY0SHLtcanhHUoF9ERLMop2rqWJv79W3xHkcocT4hhTVx03Ej27PTMDKAQpiqMT_xq8UHQtnfTzvQeIdoNBlh7RAIs2f1bhOmZ5hgflViSEOulpzDOlkgtExQTVtQOp1v8/s1600/CSC_5473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5Xh6KgBRqUY0SHLtcanhHUoF9ERLMop2rqWJv79W3xHkcocT4hhTVx03Ej27PTMDKAQpiqMT_xq8UHQtnfTzvQeIdoNBlh7RAIs2f1bhOmZ5hgflViSEOulpzDOlkgtExQTVtQOp1v8/s640/CSC_5473.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scree skiing!<br>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQMrXgcDGF92IDv3OHgAWrB_Zi6PoZ_ISpEpgygrJXn_G0cHQ3rQmll80tWjN20epbHQd2chKniu33MYdDI3RTEngJM-ci3Vq-ACeMfxgFpcPsf__2vVemBFyft-gNsuINvfiVHdPzzg/s1600/CSC_5476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqQMrXgcDGF92IDv3OHgAWrB_Zi6PoZ_ISpEpgygrJXn_G0cHQ3rQmll80tWjN20epbHQd2chKniu33MYdDI3RTEngJM-ci3Vq-ACeMfxgFpcPsf__2vVemBFyft-gNsuINvfiVHdPzzg/s640/CSC_5476.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">This springy moss saved our knees</td></tr>
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The following morning, neither of us wants to move. We bike back into town around noon and hang out all afternoon with a young local woman named Laura who makes us delicious sandwiches, with lettuce and tomato! She regales us with tales of other explorers who have come to try and climb the mountain, and tells us of her dreams to start a restaurant. If you're ever in Santa Rosa, definitely ask for Laura; she'll fix you up something good to eat, and maybe you'll get to visit her future restaurant!</div>
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Also, if you're into llamas, Santa Rosa has a huge, two-day llama festival in March. They're already preparing for it!<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9XUTkA5B-FsFxUcayL0Un6bZ8S7YXlqEpppAbMvQ8sC2xNOAW9SJCzSr7wYceswdKSq7dgLG6V6GZ058I66IdXMzPgwYdAEnwR0LUQjV9To2QPJrjd61Ne4UwHLcmeRUf2-LqanZpTI/s1600/CSC_5474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9XUTkA5B-FsFxUcayL0Un6bZ8S7YXlqEpppAbMvQ8sC2xNOAW9SJCzSr7wYceswdKSq7dgLG6V6GZ058I66IdXMzPgwYdAEnwR0LUQjV9To2QPJrjd61Ne4UwHLcmeRUf2-LqanZpTI/s640/CSC_5474.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The metropolis of Santa Rosa </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP7CYSbrgRegQZ_-S0G-vkaEGCgnTRsr-dm185Vf-gRV8clnpEfxxRq_TCHOu2nO1xYw-UQa_lUn_6m4-OmfdW6i6rxmxJdrB_VHhOPNzVr9DdZgO3v2C4MtbYJQ_Ew4r1_lg3sruwPDM/s1600/CSC_5475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP7CYSbrgRegQZ_-S0G-vkaEGCgnTRsr-dm185Vf-gRV8clnpEfxxRq_TCHOu2nO1xYw-UQa_lUn_6m4-OmfdW6i6rxmxJdrB_VHhOPNzVr9DdZgO3v2C4MtbYJQ_Ew4r1_lg3sruwPDM/s640/CSC_5475.JPG" width="640"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch with Laura </td></tr>
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<br>
Queva: Info on climbing Queva can be found <a href="http://www.summitpost.org/nevado-queva/726324" target="_blank">here</a>. We biked in and hiked
to base camp in one day, and summitted and came down the next. A
nontechnical (but exhausting) walk.</div>
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Tamarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10407730675071801678noreply@blogger.com1