The
Carretera Austral (southern highway) is a 1200 km road joining tiny, isolated
communities in Chilean Patagonia. Small parts have been paved in recent years
but it remains a wild and unpredictable ride through remote lands and mixed
ecosystems possessing unparalleled beauty. The adventure of riding its length
was both high and next on our South American to do list.
Isabelle came
to the obvious conclusion, because of her fractured ankle and our deadline in
Santiago, that Carretera Austral was now off her list. Riding a motorcycle on
paved roads would easily be possible for her after four weeks of recovery. Riding
Carretera Austral that soon after an injury was too much of a risk. She
insisted that I make the two weeks long 3,000 km loop back to Gobernador
Gregores without her.
I left
early that Sunday promising to set my risk tolerance at the lowest possible
level throughout the excursion. Wind and pavement conditions changed constantly
that first day riding north on Argentina’s famed Ruta 40. Keeping my promise, I
adjusted speed to conservative levels for each set of riding conditions.
Correcting for cross winds and dodging car sized potholes is much easier at low
speeds. A potholed section is marked with a sign, “Zona de Baches”. These sections
generally last only a few kilometers.
The
countryside was Patagonian steppe. The terrain was flat dried mud, clay and
gravel. On it grew sparse grasses and shrubs. There were no signs of
agriculture but there were lots of guanaco. These deer sized creatures that
look a little like llamas are protected. Seldom does a gaze across the
Patagonian plain not include sighting a group of these wild animals. They rely
not so much on stealth as they do on vigilance and speed to thwart the predatory
puma on the open plains.
All day,
mountain peaks loomed on the left horizon. I came to a small pueblito, Bajo Caricoles
and gassed up. This place, the only one for hundreds of kilometers, had a
monopoly on gas, coffee and lodging with prices to match. My engine knocked and
pinged on the bad gas I bought there all the way to the first night’s stop,
where the pavement ended in Chile Chico. I camped in an overcrowded little
place among hoards of backpackers.
The ride
east from Chile Chico was slow, technical and a lot of fun. Steep and twisty
sections revealed fantastic vistas. I was in the Andean foothills. Wonderful
scenery began with the first kilometer and continued all day. Hugging the south
side of Lago Buenos Aires, it took six hours of riding, excluding stops, to
reach Rio Tranquilo, 165 Km away. Wind was sometimes a factor to accommodate
but it was nothing like that over the plains in Argentina.
First Look at Lago Buenos Aires
Rest Stop
View from the Foothills
Suspended Glacial Lake
Lago Buenos Aires
Foothills Pastoral Scene
Twists and Turns
Tree Shaped by the Wind
Rising
early the next day I went down to the waterfront of the glacial lake to catch a
boat to the famous, “Cuevas de Marmol”. The main attraction, the “Cathedral” is
in an area of wave caves cut into multi-coloured rock formations. The caves
were made in a lake filled with glacial waters ranging in colour from powder
blue to deep blue. Water colour is influenced by the angle of the sunlight. At
home, I had read that the best light for viewing the caves was at 10 am. The
colour combinations of rock, water and sky were said to be impressive.
Coloured Veins in the Rock
Wave Erosion
How long do you think...
The first
boat of the day brought us early bird keeners about 20 Km along the shore
through the cool Patagonian air. There we idled along a few kilometers of
shoreline that were pock-marked by the graceful wave caves. In addition to
possessing multi-coloured striations, the shapes were curved and angular at
once.
Interesting Shapes
Our Boat Drove Through
Interesting Colours
Kayaks Give Scale
The "Cathdral of Marmol"
Subsequent
riding days revealed different ecosystems. Dry foothills and strong winds gave
way to temperate rain forest. The humidity and lushness felt fresh and new. Weather
conditions varied greatly. Three days of
riding in the rain and the mud only added to the adventure. I slept in out of
the way places like Coyhaique and Puyuhuapi. Rest stops were sometimes in tiny
hamlets with names like Bahia Murta, Villa Cerro Castillo and Las Turbinas.
Mostly, lunch or snacks were at an overlook somewhere off the road.
People Often Cut Blind Corners
Roadside Snapshot
Alpine Glaciers in Midsummer
Fertile Valley
Road
conditions varied greatly. Sometimes the road was technical and slow but some
short sections were paved. There was a long section of modern road that was
ready for paving. The corners had been straightened and the hills flattened by
blasting. The ripio was thick with loose, rounded rocks. It was another road of
marbles. The bike was relatively stable at a speed of 50kph. Good tires and a
willingness to tolerate the front-end sloshing around as it searched for
traction got me to the end of the construction zone. I stopped for a drink and
a photo.
Ready to Pave
Two motos
with street tires approached on the good ripio. The eyes of both riders were
huge and wide with fear as their motorcycles bounced over the road. I felt
sorry for them. They had no idea that 10 Km of deep marbles lay ahead.
Multi-coloured Cliff
Pastoral Overlook
Comfie Campsite
Many Waterfalls
Stream
Puyuhuapi
has salt water access in the complex coastal islands of southern Chile. In
Puyuhuapi I learned details of the road closures to the north. Landslides the
previous year had caused the government to close a long section of road to the
north. Repairs were being made but there was still much to accomplish.
It was
possible to continue north but only by following long and difficult detours.
These detours involved rough tracks and multi-hour ferries. Rumour had it that four-wheel
drive vehicles were having difficulty getting to the harbour village of
Balmaceda to take the first long ferry ride. Most overlanders gave up and
turned around at Puyuhuapi. Despite this, the ferries were booked for days and
weeks into the future. I would learn that people commonly abandon their plans
for paid up but inexpensive ferry rides.
Glacier View from Rain Forest
I joined
a group of six other riders, all on small bikes, and rode north out of
Puyuhuapi in the pouring rain. The ripio was reasonably good despite the rain
and those little motos really moved. I managed to keep up with them all the way
to La Junta. There was even a small paved section as we approached town. The
group turned left onto a two-track (two tire tracks) forest road that wasn’t on
my map. Seventy-four kilometers of soaked ripio passed quickly before we
arrived in tiny Balmaceda, where the ferry dock is.
A Break in the Rain
The
isolated hamlet of Balmaceda operates at its own pace, one separate from the
rest of the world. There was electricity from the town’s diesel generator
available sometimes and occasionally there was internet too. One needed to book
ferry trips on-line and through an agent. The ferry ticket booking office, a
desk inside the tiny general store, was sporadically staffed but connecting
with the agent was a hit and miss affair. The agent often left a note in the
window or on the desk indicating when she planned to return. Despite being forewarned, few of my numerous
visits to the ticket desk coincided with the ticket agent’s return, presumably
from other duties.
Perseverance
eventually led to the agent booking everything for me, all the way to Puerto
Montt. It took two days for the needed elements to coincide: electric power,
internet access and a present booking agent. I waited in line for almost an
hour. There was one person ahead of me. My turn came and 45 minutes later I had
my tickets. I had forked over the mighty sum of $7 CDN for a total of thirteen
hours on four ferries for the moto and me.
The ferry began that evening and
arrived in Chaiten at 5am. I spent the night rocking and rolling on a bench in the ship's cafeteria. I slept remarkably well considering
the situation while most people dozed in their cars. That morning, I found a park bench in town
and made breakfast, sharing it with a Chilean bicyclist who had also taken the
ferry. We were both waiting for the sun to rise at 7:00 before beginning the 45
Km ripio section to the next ferry. My tickets were for the 10:30 ferry, his
for the evening one. We had a great chat in English. Among other things, he
warned about the poor quality of the upcoming ripio and of the pickpockets in
Santiago. He was wrong about the ripio but right about the pickpockets, I would
learn.
The next section of ripio was
easy, just a normal country road. Three more ferries and more ripio followed.
After the town of Hualaihue I aired up my tires for paved road. I forgot to tie
the bag with the air pump onto my pannier. I discovered the bag was missing an
hour later and returned to look for it, without success. Our tent poles and
pegs were lost along with the pump. That night, I took an overpriced hotel room
in a shabby section of Puerto Montt and missed the independence of camping.
The Last of the Ripio
A two-hour ride the next day to
the much nicer city of Osorno allowed me to stock up at a supermarket. An
upscale mall had three hiking and trekking stores. I bought a new tent then
rode to the MotoAventura shop. I planned to ask them to mount my new front tire
but they were closed. I took a room in a house nearby and returned the next day
for the tire mounting.
At noon the next day I was on the
highway to Argentina. It was the last day of the end of summer long weekend.
The scenery was strikingly beautiful but the road was packed with traffic. The
border crossing took 4 hours and then I was in Argentina. I don’t know why but
it felt like home. Chileans sometimes speak English but Argentinians are easier
going. I sat at a pretty mirador beside a lake munching sandwiches. Friendly,
open Argentinians approached immediately and we started chatting. Then another
small group and finally a family approached. They were all interested in my
travel story and wanted to take photos. Yup, I was back in Argentina.
Three more days of riding back
across the Patagonian steppe brought me to Gobernador Gregores. Being pushed by
a strong, three-day tail wind was fun. I rode silently at 110kph and used very
little fuel. Riding two hundred
kilometers on wild Carrretera Austral would have been a huge day but I covered
more than 800 Km on the final day’s ride across the steppe. It had been a solo
trip lasting almost two weeks that spanned over 3,000 Km. For me, it was a highlight of our South
American journey. I arrived at the Hosteria anxious to share my adventures in
Chile’s deep south with Isabelle in the tiny place where she waited.
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