It´s Raining Cyclists: The Northern Carretera Austral. February 17th-21st

Puerto Montt-Hornopiren-Caleta Gonzalo-Chaitén-Puerto Cárdenas-Villa Santa Lucia

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.

The northern Carretera Austral, surrounded by greenery

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!

Finally, from the streets of Puerto Varas, we see Volcan Osorno! We were up there...

Some hilarious graffiti around the city

Our gear getting some waterproofing. Here we´re painting Chris´s gloves with a mix of silicone and turpentine...

...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.

Some colorful landscaping in Puerto Varas

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.
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.

Puerto Montt: our first time cycling at sea level since Cartagena, Colombia, near the northern tip of South America.

The weather rages on outside as climate-controlled life continues in swanky department stores

Relieved to finally be outside of the madness of the big city of Puerto Montt, we leave the traffic of the main carretera 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...

Outside of the city, it´s not long before we start seeing wildlife: here, a black-necked swan...

...and here, a snail taking the fastest ride of its life on Danny´s helmet.

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.

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.

A ferry similar to ours

Our bikes on board

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.

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.

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 merken (pronounced mare-KEN).
For those of you unfamiliar with merken, it's a local specialty of southern Chile, a delicious spice made from smoked peppers.

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.

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? Chile is still part of Latin America, no matter how hard they try to pretend otherwise. 

Morning dew in Hornopiren

Steaming south

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.

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?"
Not reassured by this, we bike as quickly as possible, and as we arrive, the next ferry is just pulling away. Noooo!

There it goes. So close!

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.

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!

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 Alerce 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.

Don´t get caught in those pincers

Textured, cedar-like bark of the alerce

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.

And we get to be a part of it! Here´s the four of us coming together to form an alerce tree.

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.

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.

Regrowing forest

It takes rain - a lot of rain - to make a rainforest.

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.

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.

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.

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.

And lakes. Don´t forget lakes. There are tons of them dotting the landscape along the Austral

Descending to Villa Santa Lucia

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.

Don´t drive too fast, folks.

Hannah and Chris: a portrait.

Route Notes:
Puerto Montt-Villa Sta Lucia (Carretera Austral): 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.

In Search of a Volcano, February 10th-14th

Villa La Angostura-Paso Cardenal Samoré-Anticura (Chile)-Entre Lagos-Puerto Klocker-Paso Desolación-Petrohue-Ensenada-Puerto Varas

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?

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.

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. 

I felt a little bad passing all these cars in line... but not that bad. Photo courtesy of Hannah

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.

Volcanic rocks float down the river by our campsite. Photo courtesy of Hannah

 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.

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.

Second stop: the carabineros, 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.

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.

Fourth stop: wi-fi. Within an hour we have all the info we need. Sometimes local knowledge cannot compete with the internet.

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. 

Looks like there are more than just those seven famous lakes...

Yeah bike lane! Volcan Osorno in the background, the last time we would see it before a three-day storm moved in

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!

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

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)

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.

Are we back in the rainforest?

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

That's our trail 

Hannah and Chris making their way up the last bit of the ascent

What a team!

As the sun begins to emerge, finally we are rewarded with some views!

Mountain biking doesn´t get much better than this

Cover shot for Adventure Magazine?

Things get sandy, but Hannah is still determined to ride...

...until both feet come off the pedals...

...uh oh!

100 points for effort

Chris pulling rocks out of his leg

A last sandy/ashy bit.  That volcano is still hiding in the clouds!

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!

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! 

A hot cocoa and cookie stop is necessary to escape the cold rain. Plus, it is Valentines Day...

A cyclist`s favorite pastime: Chris and Hannah looking over maps with our host, Lucas

Route Notes:

- Villa La Angostura (Argentina) to Entre Lagos (Chile): 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.

- Entre Lagos to Puerto Varas via Osorno: 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.

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.

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.

Petrohue has a little market, a cafe, and some very expensive-looking cabañas. About 8 km of ripio until pavement, then there`s a bike path all the way to Puerto Varas. Ensenada has a little market and lots of camping places.