So we made it, despite the wind, despite my bike having an error code on the dash, despite the bus loads of people at the border that took hours to clear and despite the one fuel stop we needed being out of fuel when we got there (another hour waiting, could have been worse though!), we rolled in here at around 8pm.
Stunning ride in for the last 80km though…
Once again the weather is not playing ball, and it’s bucketing, so we’re waiting out the rain to go hiking later today.
Hopefully.
We said goodbye to our travel buddy Ben Snacks (Pop Pop Pop) last night, and also to Alex from Germany who we’ve bumped into a few times along the road, and with loose plans to reconvene for Christmas, we rode to Porto Natales this morning on our lonesomes again.
It was a tough ride for the first 100km (wind of course), then the road turned west and into the wind and it got a bit less hectic.
I’d woken at 6am, and immediately went for my phone and the now reverred windy app… balls. The wind was up a bit over the forecast, and coming up more as the day wore on.
‘We better get going Sal’
The forecast was for 45kmh winds, gusting to 65, blowing directly across our trajectory. In all honesty I had no idea whether that was a lot, or totally manageable, but it was the lowest it’d been in a while, or would-be for a while.
Turns out that 45 gusting to 65 is quite a lot, somewhere near the limit I’d guess.
With wind from the left pushing us right, and ordinarily riding on the right (this being South America and all) there isn’t far to get pushed before you run out of road and end up in the scrub.
Which would be bad.
Lucky for us it’s Sunday! So the roads were completely deserted, and we did what any normal Australian would do and rode on the left side of the highway instead. Actually on the left side, of the left side!
This gave us two whole lanes to get blown across before leaving the road. Of course there was the odd oncoming car, truck and bus to contend with, but that extra margin for 98% of the ride was a blessing.
It did have me wondering how the conversation might play out with the Carabinieros though…
‘but officer, I’m from Australia, i didn’t know!’
Tomorow we have another window early afternoon until about 10pm to reach El Chalten, that’s 515km with a border crossing thrown in.
The last 320 of which is without any services, and will be all cross wind (less than today though!) so will be battling that and carrying extra fuel too.
It’s going to be a long day.
You know it was a hard day when Sally is asleep at 4pm!
When people told us it was windy in Patagonia, I imagined constant strong wind, riding down the road with the bike leaned over at 45deg, getting blown around a bit… Like really windy days back home. Um, No.
I didn’t imagine having to stay in one place for days to wait for a window of time when the wind DROPPED to that level so it would be less unsafe to ride between two towns 200km apart.
But there it is, and so, here we are in Punta Arenas watching wind forecasts and waiting for something below 60kmh of side wind before we leave.
The wind here is evil. At night in the room it feels like the whole building is going to get blown away. Yesterday I had to stop walking and crouch down low not to get blown over in the middle of town. The power lines screech and get blown so hard they smack against each other with such force it feels unsafe walking underneath them.
Anyhow…
The past week was spent getting to Ushuaia (mostly tail wind), being in Ushuaia (mostly disappointing) and then getting out of Ushuaia (mostly side and head wind).
Ushuaia itself is just another mid sized town, with not that much to see or do if you’re not doing excursions to see penguins or taking a boat to visit Antarctica.
The ride there from Porto Natales was nothing like as scenic as we’ve come to expect, just rolling hills and quite barren, aside from the weather we could have been in Australia!
As we were waiting for some spare parts to arrive in the next town we stayed there a few nights, and that was definitely enough.
Luckily the wind dropped to a manageable level for our departure, but even so…
‘babe there’s something wrong with my bike. It’s just going slower and slower’ crackles Sally over the intercom
‘ok… is it misfiring? Any lights on the dash?’
‘no it’s just going slowly, like only 70kmh’
‘mine is too, it’s this headwind, just try to tuck in a bit behind the screen and it’ll go a little faster’
Now we’re doing 80, full throttle. It’s 11am and we have another 300km to go, It’s going to be a long day.
To make matters worse, Sally got food poisoning last night so didn’t sleep, and was vomiting into a bucket half hour before leaving.
Poor Sally.
Also it’s cold. Really cold. 11deg on the dash, but with the wind tearing through me it feels much worse, well at least it’s not raining I muse…
Yep. There it is. Rain.
Kudos to the goretex gear we have though, or more like kudos to Sally for recommending that I bring my rain suit despite the bulk. At least we’ve stayed bone dry.
Unexpectedly those spare parts arrived a week early so we could have left here (Punta Arenas) had the wind allowed, but it’s been pretty brutal these few days. Today it’s averaging 68km/h with gusts at 92km/hr. And today is A LOT BETTER than yesterday.
We have a two hour window at 45km/h tomorrow morning to go north, fingers crossed the forecast is right!
‘well i’ve never turned left while leaning right before ‘ says Ben in his Johan Zarco frenchy accent.
It’s true, and I haven’t either.
We’re riding between the frontiers en route back to Chile, the road is loose gravel and all of us are leaning hard to the right while going more or less straight.
This has me wondering at what point the front will tuck. Geez. Sally is understandably freaking out a bit, but at least the wind is consistent (not gusting much), and the road is not terrible so it all goes without issue.
We stop after the Chilean frontier in one of many places plastered with overlanders stickers to take refuge from the wind, and empty a fuel bladder into the tanks.
The forecast is for lower wind speed as the day rolls on, so we decide to do the famous loop through the Torres del Paine NP, 175km of mostly gravel road with some of the most breathtaking scenery I’ve witnessed.
Once up in the mountains though it changed into wind like I’ve never experienced before, gusts out of nowhere, whirly winds taking dust up into the sky with such force you felt they’d take you up too.
At one point I’m following Sally and one of them passes close to her, holy shitballs, I wonder how that would feel if it went through you…
Shortly after that we found out.
I hear a “woooohhhh ahhhhhhhh” through the intercom as I crest a hill and see Sally riding slowly ahead of me.
“oh my god oh my god I need to stop I need to stop” she sounds manic, I’m confused as I didn’t see anything happening and she was still upright on the bike!?
I find somewhere to park and run over to her, grab the bike as she dismounts.
“what’s going on, what happened?”
“I don’t know I don’t know I hit the barrier oh my god”
It’s not making sense yet, but eventually I get it. The wind was coming from the right pretty hard so you lean right to counter it, but in an instant it switched and blew TO the right, and so already leaning that way it shot Sal into the Armco barrier. The crash bars and her MX boots took the hit and she wobbled to a stop, in more than a bit of shock.
I saw the scrape on Sally’s right boot and put it all together. Lucky there was a barrier, there was a steep drop maybe 30m into a freezing lake otherwise.
‘yeah you would have got wet’ says Ben dryly.
Sally is a bit too freaked out to see any positives just yet.
Are you hurt? No I’m fine. Nothing at all? No she says, just as surprised as me.
Bet you’re glad you bought those boots!
It’s been a couple of hours riding a dusty rocky pass after processing into Argentina, when I go for my water and realise I’m not wearing my backpack.
Balls.
I quickly do the maths, 60ish km back to the Arg border, another ten to the Chilean side if it’s not there, plus the 20 extra we already did to get our permits reissued today, makes 160km extra for the day.
We’re already carrying extra fuel for this leg as it’s too far for one tank, when we filled the bladders I put 3lt extra in each one just in case…
So 6 lt extra x 25km per litre equals 150km. It’s almost enough. So I make a snap decision, skid to a stop, spin around and head back.
‘babe I’m going back, find some shade, I’ll be a couple of hours’
‘um… ok, do we have enough fuel!??’
‘not sure, work that out later, I have enough to get there and back’
I hit save waypoint on the GPS so I know where I turned around, and without thinking much more I’m gone.
Losing my waterpack is not an option, and it has a goretex jacket in it too, so I’m not abandoning it.
Some further thinking would have been wise though.
Around 25km later I realise all the border documents needed to exit argentina are in Sally’s bike. FUUUUUCK.
I stop for a moment to see if I have my passport at least. Yep. Not enough fuel or time to go back for the docs, hope they let me through without them. Keep going.
The road is winding mountain pass, with lots of stones in the surface, but loose gravel mostly, with some blind crests. I can remember the pinch points from the ride there so can take a few risks and carry more speed through the turns, which is good as the bike has no power so carrying corner speed is the only way to get somewhere fast.
Oh how I wish I had Betsy right now.
The 50/50 tyres we have are not super grippy, and there’s not enough power to turn the bike with the rear tyre so it’s not pretty, but I make good time to the Argentine border, where there’s no backpack.
‘no you can’t go through no man’s land without processing the bike, absolutely not’. FFS. It’s 11km, too far to walk.
He calls the Chilean side where they find a backpack that matches my description…
‘but what brand is it?’
I can’t remember, FFS how many people leave backpacks up here, we’re in the middle of frikkin nowhere!
Lucky for me, the Chilean guy tells the Argentine guy to get me to leave my passport there and let me through.
Win.
Arriving at the Chilean side, the customs guy holds up my pack and tells me to check that the contents are all there.
‘no need, I trust you’
He smiles and asks if I have enough petrol to go back?
‘maybe, but it’s ok, we can pool fuel and send one forward with a bladder’
‘we can get you some fuel’
I say thanks but I don’t have any Chilean pesos on me, just Argentine pesos…
‘its a gift, from one motorcyclist to the next’
He points to a KTM 1190 Adventure parked next to the office, ‘its mine he says’
I’m beaming, and in my broken Spanish I tell him I ride a KTM at home, and my brother has the exact same bike.
‘It’s a monster’ I say… ‘that motor is the devil, amazing’
Now he’s beaming, and tells me all about his 4000km round trip from home to work through the mountains. That’s not a typo.
Incredible.
He fills my tank, shakes my hand and wishes me well.
That’s the 4 or 5 litres we needed to get to the next fuel station. What luck!
I ride back to the Arg side, where they make me wait 10mins for my passport, before telling me I’m very lucky and to get outta here now.
As I take off again I forget to turn off the ABS and shoot the next corner off into the scrub. ABS is dangerous on gravel. At least it wasn’t off a cliff I muse.
Dean, be smart. Ride sensibly.
The return trip cost us two hours and four dents in my front rim. Obviously that advice I gave myself was somewhat ignored.
Good thing I love being on a mission huh!
I get back to my waypoint and no Sally… oh dear. I ride on a bit, before doubling back to see if I missed her off the road. Still nothing, so I keep going forward another kilometer to find her and Ben under the only tree for miles. They look relieved to see me, and I’m relieved to be back with company.
Ben was waiting for us not far from where I turned around, so he came back looking after 20mins, with the plan to come looking if I didn’t get back in a few hours. He’s a good man.
I’ve ridden remote places many times solo, and it’s a different beast. A fall, breakdown or even just a puncture are compounded when you’re by yourself. Plus it was already late in the day and gets freezing up there at night.
All these things were going through my mind, usually followed by ‘i wish Betsy was here’
It was 550km for the day, a lot of dirt and 4 frontiers crossed, the beer at dinner time was sooo sweet.
(I wrote this a week ago…)
Sally just told me her last post was up to Rio Tranquillo where we did a boat ride to see some marble caves… yawn.
This was just 4 days ago, but it seems like weeks.
Since then, short ride to Cochrane, next day a 22km hike in the Valle Chacabuco, back to Cochrane again (yes two nights in the same place!), then another short ride to Caleta Tortel (I’m calling that a down day), where Sally got a warning for speeding, tich tich, and today we rode the last 150km of the Carreterra Austral, which was just as, or more stunning than the rest.
Also, there were several ‘incidents’ today. Firstly Ben (a French guy we’ve been defacto traveling with for a few days) crashed his bike, no harm done.Then, Sally tipped her bike over while stationary, got stuck under it and banged her head on the stony ground in the process, ouch. (no serious harm done). And lastly I was run off the road by a police car driving too fast (them not me!) on a narrow mountain road. (also, no harm done). But what the fuck Carabinerios, tell us to slow down and then pull a stunt Ike that. Geez.
Anyway, having made it to the end of the Carreterra Austral we’re now headed back the way we came to cross a remote mountain pass called Passo Roballo. So remote there isn’t even a Chilean immigration post. So we had to apply for a permit to leave that way online. And in to contrast to the usual Latin American efficiency, it was issued the very next day.
Not much else to report. We’re traveling well, bikes are holding up great, the scenery is stunning. Roll on.
Today has been fun.
We set off from Cochrane this morning with Ben, ready to cross the border into Argentina. With fuel bladders full, paperwork printed for the remote border crossing and dreams of bife de chorizo and red wine for dinner.
Fuel is hard to get in Argentina, especially in remote towns, and if there is a petrol station, it doesn’t mean it has petrol. We identified a town that had a petrol station with a reliable supply and made that our destination. 423 kms. As our bikes only do around 230-250, we had to take extra.
I was expecting the road to the Paso Robalo pass to be a bit rocky so I was prepared for a challenging day. The weather was beautiful and the scenery stunning and thankfully the road wasn’t too bad in the end.
As this border post is remote, we had to apply for a permit (a Salvoconductor) online ahead of time and specify the date of entry. It said on the website that you needed to allow 5 days to receive approval and if you indicated a date less than 5 days it would be an instant refusal. We also read on numerous posts that the date you specify doesn’t matter and you can pass at any time as long as you have the approval.
There is clearly a reason I am telling this story.
We applied for the permit 4 days ago but specified tomorrow’s date, thinking we could pass whenever we were ready. After riding to Tortel (dont bother) and Villa O’Higgins (end of the Carretera Austral), we were ready to cross the Paso Robalo border.
After riding 80 kms we arrived at the border post and presented our documents.
‘The date on your permit is tomorrow, you can’t cross today’
I won’t go into the pleading in bad Spanish we did and reasoning we gave them. They were not going to budge.
‘Can we sleep here?’ I asked, already knowing the answer but trying to portray how desperate we were to cross
‘no’
The thought of doing the ride again, despite its beauty, and spending another night in Cochrane was super disappointing for all or us. It’s one thing to mentally prepare for a hard road once but to have to do it three times was a little overwhelming.
We eventually left with the plan to try to get wifi back close to town and reapply with today’s date as the guard advised.
‘but it says it will be immediately rejected if we specify a date within 5 days’ Dean said in his Italian/Spanish.
They assured us it would be fine.
So, we head back, all pretty deflated and in disbelief. Around 10 kms in, Ben saw a caravan parked a little way off the road and went to ask them if they had internet.
Bingo.
A lovely couple from Holland were happy to share it with us. So, we reapplied with today’s date.
The approval came through in 10 minutes! So happy, we all headed back to the border post and processed customs with no problem.Next Argentina.
Once the guard had finished his lunch, he processed us one at a time and before long we were on our way.
The road on the Argentinian side was a lot more rocky than the Chilean side but just as beautiful, maybe even more. Less green but with blue lakes with pink flamingos. Well worth the stress!
Ben went off ahead while Dean patiently rode behind me as usual. About half an hour ago, around half way through the rocky road towards to Ruta 40, Dean realised that he was missing his backpack.
‘I have to go back to the border post, it’s the only place it can be. Find a shady place and wait for me’
First of all, there is no shade. Second, we already have limited fuel so I’m not sure where this is going to leave us, and third…what if he left it in Chile and not Argentina? Or with the Dutch couple? The papers for the bike are with me so crossing into Chile is going to be impossible
Its at least an hour each way (it took us/me about 2 to get this far) and it’s 4 pm. We still have 300 kms to ride to get to our destination/fuel. I just hope he doesn’t try to go too fast.
Ben has come back to find us and is now sitting with me under a ‘tree’ to wait for him…
Dean retuned at 5.30.
After contemplating what we would do if dean didn’t appear after two hours, Ben heard the motorcycle over the mountains.
He had left his bag at the Chilean border post and after some pleading with the Argentinian guard, he was allowed to cross back into Chile by leaving his passport with him. The guard in Chile handed him his bag and gave him some petro to get him through! How kind. They weren’t so bad in the end.
We ended up arriving into town at 10 pm, just as the sun was going down, totally exhausted. Thankfully, restaurants in Argentina are open until 1 am so we found a place to eat some meat (not bife de chorizo) and drink some wine before crashing.
The scenery is getting better every day. Waterfalls everywhere you look, amazing snow capped mountains, spring flowers of purple, pink, blue and yellow and crystal clear streams, rivers and lakes. Photos just don’t do it justice.
Riding my own bike makes for a very different trip to being a pillion. There were several concerns I had and still have about riding on this trip, which mostly centre around off road riding….narrow roads with oncoming traffic that don’t move over….over taking on dusty roads…insane winds the push you over into oncoming traffic…riding on the wrong side of the road (I feel I have mastered this one!) and falling off a cliff etc. So far the roads haven’t been so bad….mainly hard packed gravel with the odd bit of loose stones. The journey has only just started though so I’m not cheering yet!
I don’t love riding off road and am not confident pulling over suddenly to take photos, and as I can’t take my eyes off the road, I am probably missing out on some of the sights….luckily I have my own personal photographer who can take photos for me.
‘that looks amazing’ I say as I quickly look to my left ‘would make a great photo’
‘no worries babe, I’ll stop and take one and will catch up with you’
Poor Dean has to spend all day riding in my dust so he can keep sight of me.
While I love being on my own bike, I do miss the connection of being on the bike with Dean, and sharing experiences. Little ‘wake up Dean’ squeeze of my legs at traffic lights, holding his sunglasses when it starts to rain, reminding him to drink water by bumping him on the helmet with the water tube…..the odd power nap here and there…
But, riding is so much more engaging. Even the off-road bits, despite not loving them, are a lot more enjoyable on my own bike compared to hanging onto the back with Dean’s bum in my face and my eyes closed whilst being smashed around everywhere. Funny that.
Riding with other bikes has also been a concern of mine. Knowing how many riders do this trip, I was worried about feeling pressure of having other riders behind me, and feeling as if I am holding them up.
Yesterday we had to take a ferry and despite still being early in the season, there were about 50 other bikes on the ferry – I’d hate to see it when it’s high season!
Leaving the ferry, I knew we had a bit of off road to ride so I was worried about holding up other riders and had plans to wave them all ahead. We all rode out of the ferry up the steep ramp and approached the gravel road. Everyone took off and continued to ride slowly…I wasn’t sure why everyone was going so slowly so I followed them for a while….then I overtook a couple…then a couple more… Before long we were ahead of them all. Phew! The complete opposite to what I expected! They all had such big heavy bikes with so much luggage. It was almost comical.
There are always those riders who don’t want to be overtaken, especially by a girl. Yesterday we caught up to a couple of guys who would not let me pass them. It was one thing for Dean to pass them but I, was too much. On the straights they sped up (well done guys, you have bikes over 700 cc and mine is 300) but when I caught them on the turns, they wouldn’t move over or let me through. It was pretty frustrating and dangerous. These guys obviously have very small penises.
Today was a beautiful day and the roads were great. We rode from Puyuhuapi to Villa Cerro Castillo with Ben, who we’ve met from France and it was the best riding day yet with amazing weather!
Tomorrow we are planning on walking up to Cerro Castillo and then heading on to Puerto Rio Tranquilo. We are making the most of the beautiful weather and trying to time our journey to sit out any rain so we don’t miss out on any of the stunning scenery.
Oh, and the food? Still very average.
Tacna Time
Definition. the act of spending time in a v small town (where there’s little to do), while waiting for conditions conducive to moving on.
Origin. Spending four days bored senseless in Tacna (Peru) while waiting to be contacted by Peruvian smugglers in 2013. Followed by another three days in Desguadero (Bolivia). Time mostly spent playing cards, drinking Picso, being stressed out of our (my) mind, and visiting every single shop, restaurant and street in said towns.
We arrived in Hornypillion yesterday morning thinking we’d buy tickets for today’s ferry when we got here… But today’s ferry was booked out. Ffs.
There was a 6pm ferry but it arrives at 10pm and there’s a two hr gravel rd ride on the other side, which we weren’t keen on in the dark at 4deg c.
Cue Tacna time.
So far we’ve done our washing, bought some spares for the trip ahead, done a nut and bolt on the bikes (made sure nothing is about to fall off), cooked some food, been scalded and frozen in 30sec intervals by the shower, lost a padlock and alarm fob (don’t ask), walked laps of the town, sat and watched the rain outside, played cards and of course, drank (drunk ?) Picso.
This is our tiny cabana in the middle of town, there’s a main room maybe 4x4m, a small bedroom and a tiny torture room (shower).
It’s not really Tacna time (too short a stint), but it was an unexpected delay.
Tomorrow we have the ferry at 10am that takes us through a Fjord, then a 10km ride and another short ferry to Caleta Gonzalo before we’re back on our own time.
Looking forward to making some miles soon.
xo
As we’re running a little early it’s still really cold further south, so there’s absolutely no hurry to get anywhere soon.
This does not suit our personalities at all but we’re trying.
So we kicked around Pucon a couple of days, paid too much for an oil change and debated where to go next.
We have a little road map that has a mark on a town called Valdivia and the word ‘bohemian’ written next to it.
So Valdivia it is.
The ride there took us through an area called the Siete Lagos route, (Seven Lakes). Lots of lush scenery, really nice riding.
Other than a university district, the town itself was not all that bohemian, but there was a colony of seals living on the river bank in the middle of town.
An enormous one took a lunge at Sally when she got too close trying to take a pic, causing her to trip over and land on her ass, I think that was my highlight of Valdivia. Oh and the brewery.
From Valdivia our route took us back to the lakes where we did a lap of Lago Ranco and then Lago Llanquihue complete with 3 (or 4?) volcanoes surrounding it. Amazing.
We got our first bit of rain late in the day, and decided to call it at Frutillar baho, another cute town on a lake where we found a cool little bnb without too much hassle.
From here we debated whether to spend another couple of days on a detour to see a peninsula sw of Puerto Montt (the start of the Carreterra Austral) or just get moving onto the Carreterra A.
Surprisingly we chose the detour. Loaded up, fueled up, and travelled 60km before getting the shits with riding around in circles, changed our minds and detoured to Puerto Varas.
As a side note, there are a lot of well cared for dogs in Chile. Never seen so many people walking dogs, and one such dog has just tried to join Sal and I in the Cabana we’re in for the night…
He was quite insistent, and almost pushed Sal over trying to get in :-). Two falls in one week… Now that would have been worth blogging about.
Back at Puerto Varas… we went through a check list of stuff we wanted to get done before embarking on the C. Australis.
Get more Chilean pesos and spread out the various bits of cash we have between our riding suits, no small task. But done.
Recharge the phone (fail).
Replace a headlight (fail x 2)
Find a bag to store the smelly fuel bladders in (fail)
Get a bit of hose to syphon fuel if needed (done) and…
Find some antacid medication for me (done) thanks pm.
Pay an etag bill (fail)
Get insurance for Argentina (fail)
Do some housekeeping for life back home (win).
I realize all of this is somewhat boring, and the extremely strange hotel we stayed in, with it’s cast of equally strange residents, burning smells wafting thru at all hours and pillows full of critters would make better reading, but life on the road is not all roses (or weird hotels).
(inside Sally’s pillow, there’s critters in there!).
Stay with me though, I’m almost done. Now it’s today.
Back to not being in a hurry and waiting for the weather to warm up a bit… So next destination we chose was just 60km away at the foot of a Nat Park called Alerce, which contains among other things an Alerce tree that’s 3000 years old. That’s not a typo. 3000.
Todays forecast was for rain, so we reasoned it would be better to walk in the rain than ride in it, so we did the short stint to this cabana where the same black dog still wants to get in…
… unloaded all our stuff and went hiking in the rain.
Good thing our rain suits are in good nick because it rained solid for the three hours we were walking…
(Sals hood isn’t waterproof so she put a plastic bag on her head to stay dry. Bag head.)
There was a nice waterfall at the end, and the 3000 year old tree too… Did I mention it’s 3000 years old. Holy shit! That tree was here 1000 years before Jesus!
Tonight we’re staying in a cool little cabana (small holiday house), that looks over the Reloncavi Estuary. A lot of the accommodation along here is in tiny self contained houses so we’re making the most of the kitchenette.
We have a bottle of wine, 2 beers, some locally smoked salmon, a pack of pasta, an onion, a few small tomatoes, some salami and cheese, peanuts, and a bunch of saggy asparagus to turn into dinner.
Should be a wild night!
(our view)
xoxo