Part 27a Chile's Carretera Austral, a Solo Ride, mid Feb 18

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.

Patagonian Steppe

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.

John Wayne Movie Filming Location

Rest Stop photo of a Passer-by

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... 

Before the house falls down?

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

Valley Overlook

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  

A Long Way to Anywhere

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.

Closed Road, Make-shift Ferry Ramp to the Left

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 

Switchback

Temperate Rain Forest

Lakes Everywhere

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.

Main Street in Sleepy Balmaceda

The Rooming House in Balmaceda

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.

Approaching Ferry

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.

Volcan Osorno

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.

Scenes from Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi, 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.

Part 27 Patagonian Wind, early Feb 18

The Patagonian wind has blown us into the ditch and has knocked us down. It has damaged our motorcycles and has injured our bodies. It has tried to demoralize us. It has justified its reputation. Wind has our respect.

Passing Time During Recovery

Hill Behind the House

We were in the “middle of nowhere” for Isabelle’s recovery. There is nothing for 200 km in any direction from the town called Gobernador Gregores. We couldn’t get cash because the bank wouldn’t accept our card. Fortunately, our Visa card was accepted at all the important places. We found a small house. It was modern and comfortable. We paid for only one week, to see if we liked it. The owner, a lawyer named Daniel drove Isa and some of our things to the house on the extreme north side of town while I brought over the bikes.

Windswept Patagonia

Steppe Lands in Patagonia

The wind on the edge of town was savage and it rained that first night. I walked into town for groceries the next morning. Leaning into the cold wind, I weaved through puddles and glue-like clay on the unpaved roads. My boots grew in size and weight with each step. This location would clearly be impossible for someone on crutches. We would move back to the 16-room hotel at the end of the week.

Big Skies in Patagonia

The “Hosteria” was a spacious, self-contained world for Isabelle’s recovery. She didn’t need to leave the building for anything. There was a restaurant as well as maid and laundry services. There was a steady stream of travellers through the large and vaulted lobby to provide conversation, to help fill the days.  They also accepted Visa.

Pedro Outside the Hosteria

Pedro is a young lawyer, working in family law, who lives at the hotel while his house is being renovated. The house and the hotel bill are paid for by his employer, the state. He is a “full service” guest at the hotel and is in no hurry to leave. Pedro came to our aid from the first minute we met in the hotel lobby. Offering to translate for us at the hospital he both accompanied us and paid the cab fare. In the weeks that followed, he became a friend, teaching us much about Argentina’s culture. Pedro, “Muchas gracias por tu ayuda y amistad. Nos ensenaste mucho. Buena suerte en la future!”

Back on the Horse Again

Finally, it was time to leave Gobernador Gregores and head north on Argentina’s famous Ruta 40. Our ultimate goal was the Chilean capital city, Santiago. It lay almost 3,000 Km to the north. Cousin Murray and his wife, Carmen live there. Murray’s sister Ellen and her husband Mel were visiting from Canada. We hoped to make it in time to visit with everyone before Ellen and Mel returned home.

Minerals in the Hills

Ruta 40 is sometimes called Argentina’s Route 66. It is over 5,000 Km long and bridges more than 30 degrees of latitude. It joins diverse and remote communities from Patagonia to the Bolivian border. Riding or driving Ruta 40 is an important part of any overland traveller’s route through South America.

A Daily Stop at the Grocery Store

We spent the following week working our way to Mendoza, then crossing into Chile to arrive in Santiago on the 26^th of February. Isabelle did a great job overcoming natural trepidation during her first day “back on the horse”. The Patagonian wind stayed with us for the first few days and then mercifully diminished. After almost two months in beautiful Patagonia the one thing we do not miss is the wind.

Camping in Esquel

We passed through little places like Bajo Caricoles, Perito Moreno, Rio Mayo, Tecka, Esquel and Las Lejas. In the beautiful lakes region of Bariloche Isa had tire trouble. A “Gomeria” made a second repair to a hole put in the tire by a spike in Ecuador 28,000 kilometers ago. In Chos Malal we waited in a line for gas that was two blocks long. It was the first of many line-ups for gas. Fuel stations in Patagonia are far apart and sometimes they have no fuel. You never pass a chance to gas up along Ruta 40. We made use of the fuel in our reserve bottles a few times that week.

Fertile Valley

The windswept steppe slowly gave way to undulating hills and small mountains that were sometimes multicoloured. Only the fertile valleys were treed in arid Patagonia. Moving northward, trees began to appear on the hills. Farms with grazing lands became more common. In step with the diminishing winds, roadside sightings of wild guanaco faded to nothing. Electrical power lines became evident along the roadside. There would be no more need for noisy diesel generators to give power to each pueblo. The number of other travelers we encountered during the next week grew smaller as the first of March and “back to school” approached.

No Vegetation to Hide the Colours

Minerals and Flora

Tilted Rock

Near Bariloche we rode for three days through rain and low double-digit temperatures. The rain cleared enough for us to see “Los Dedos de Dios” (The fingers of God). The wind slowly diminished as we moved northward. The “Camping Municipal” in Las Lejas was clean and new and very well maintained. It was one of the best campgrounds we have seen in Argentina.

Los Dedos de Dios

Los Dedos de Dios

Darkness was coming one day and we still had a couple of hours of ripio to finish. There was not a fence in sight, so we spent the night, in the quiet starlight.  Nearby stood a long abandoned one-room farmhouse. There were two small corrals, the walls made using ubiquitous black lava stones from the area. The original dwelling was also made of volcanic stones. Fragments of the collapsed roof framing and thatch remained. They had fallen inward to the hearth of the tiny field-stone fireplace. A  second house was built beside the first. It featured a more sophisticated structure, being made from cut sandstone. Mud plaster on the walls created a more pleasant interior. A window and a hinged door brought modernity to this house and its roof was less deteriorated.

The Second Farmhouse

The area was arid. There were no grasses, only small prickly bushes. Where soil existed, it was hard-packed red dust. It was peppered with chunks of black, porous volcanic rock. Rain would turn the area into a gluey swamp. We found a gravely spot for the tent that was hidden from the road by some of the scraggly bushes. The covered motos had no exposed reflectors to give us away. The sparse traffic all but ceased after dark. We settled in among the stars and the silence. The memory of this magical night stays with us.

Wild Camping in Patagonia

Morning

Northern Patagonia

Ruta 40

The next day’s ripio was straight forward, ending at a tiny bridge over a pretty little canyon. Eighty-five kilometers of construction followed the bridge through the town of Barrancas where we met a Swiss rider on a sport bike. We chatted while I aired the tires up after all the ripio. Joe was a pleasant fellow and we had lunch with him a few hours later, after the construction zone. We continued across huge valleys and open plains to San Rafael for the night.

Hills on Ruta 40

Foothills Seen from Ruta 40

End of Ripio Section

Unknown River

The Road Improves Northward

The next night was spent at altitude in Upsallata near the Chilean border. Upsallata is a busy little tourist town and we had a pleasant dinner on “the strip” that evening. The town’s location allowed us to time our arrival at the border for 11 o’clock the next morning. The ride to the border winds its way through the spectacular Rio Mendoza valley with its many tunnels.

Joe's Sport Bike, a Challenge to Ride on Ruta 40

Through trial and error, we have found late morning to be the best time to arrive at a land border. The line-ups caused by early-bird keeners have usually been cleared by then (we naively were among those keeners a few times) and the staff has not yet been cut in half for lunch-time. Again, we were caught this way earlier in the trip. This border has a reputation for long waits but we made it through in 45 minutes. There was time to chat in line with another group of Argentinian riders. We met them again a few days later at the BMW dealership in Santiago.

Chatting on the Edge of Chile

The actual border is crossed underground and is announced by a subterranean sign saying, “Welcome to Chile”. A many cornered “switchback” descent follows the border into Chile. The photo below was taken from about a third of the way down. Getting off the bike and walking to the edge gave the best angle for a shot. It was a fun ride that caused us to lose well over a thousand meters of elevation, all at once. Part way down, I gave a bottle of water to a motorist whose SUV overheated trying to climb the huge staircase.

Stairway to Santiago

Casa Matte, in downtown Santiago, is well known in the moto-overlanding community. It is run by Christian whose warm personality we immediately felt. There are numerous bedrooms in the beautiful old house. Motorcyclists come to socialize with other moto travellers and to work on their bikes in the fully equipped workshop. Christian’s friend, Julio has a good reputation as an agent for air shipping motorcycles. We met Justin from Kenora, Ontario who rides a KLR. He installed new tires he bought in Santiago. We also met riders from Colombia, Argentina, Germany, England and Ireland at Casa Matte.

Casa Matte

We stayed at the Hostel for three nights. I banged out my bent aluminium panniers with a big mallet. They close properly and may even be waterproof again. Isabelle’s seem to be OK since the last time I gave them some gentle persuasion. One night we went up the block to a Peruvian restaurant that Christian recommended. The food was well known to us and enjoyable though not as good as the real thing, in Peru! It was fun to chat with the waiter, who was clearly proud of his home country. We noticed him change his speech to a familiar and for us, easier to understand highlands accent when he talked about home. We had spent 6 months in the northern highlands between Quito and Sucre. Most of our language study had been there. The slower speed and careful pronunciation of his speech were refreshing and recognizable.

The Workshop, A Gathering Place

During that time, we had the bikes serviced at the BMW dealership and some repairs made. Isabelle’s bike needed some welding and new tires, mine had windshield and mirror damage. We went through with the welding because it was unavoidable but bungie cords and duct tape had to do for the other things until getting home. The prices on the parts estimate were ludicrous! The overall bill was gigantic, easily the most we have paid to a dealership on the trip. We went to “MotoAventura” the next day for a much better price on an installed rear tire for my bike.

Relief had struck when Isabelle’s doctor prescribed only 25 days of recovery before she could ride again, after fracturing her ankle in Patagonia. Doing the math proved that we could still make it to Santiago in time. We had raced from Isa’s recovery in Gobernador Gregores to Santiago. We sped past beautiful lakes and parks along the way, especially near Bariloche. We had planned to spend time enjoying them. Isabelle had completely missed the “Carretera Austral”, a stunning, wild ride through remote parts of southern Chile. The Carretera Austral solo trip will be featured in blog post 27a.

We were especially looking forward to visiting with my cousins and their families in Santiago. Cousin Ellen had flown with her husband Mel from British Columbia to Santiago. They were visiting her brother Murray, Murray's wife Carmen and little ones Fernanda and Bruno. We arrived on the first of March to the peaceful oasis that is Murray and Carmen’s home in a beautiful Santiago neighborhood.

Mel and Ellen Hall

Carmen Cadiz and Murray Canfield

Siblings Ellen and Murray, Cousin Terry

Slowing the Pace at Murray's

The next five days were filled with hours of pleasant conversation as we got to know each other again. Decades had passed since Murray and his family had stayed with Isabelle and I and our young children in Ottawa during the celebration of my parents 45^th wedding anniversary. I had not seen Ellen since the 1960’s and had never met Mel.

Santiago's climate is most agreeable

Coffee Break from Shopping

Food was central to this visit.  Monica served baked salmon for lunch and everyone gathered in a Chinese restaurant for dinner that first evening. The salmon was wonderfully prepared and reminded the Canadians of home. At the restaurant, subtle differences in seasonings and presentation contrasted with the food of Chinese restaurants in Canada. Everything is a little different in Chile, it seems. Asian and Latin cultures fused in dishes we later ate in the food court at a downtown mall. Pacific influences as well as ones from the northern Andean highlands combined at the Bali Hai where we went for dinner and a show.

Great Food and Family Time

The Bali Hai

The show was professional from the start. The live orchestra was well practiced and precise, easily changing instruments and styles as required by the progression of the show. The theme was Chilean dance. It featured costumes, music and dance from each of the major regions beginning with the (southern) Austral. Polynesian influences were evident in dances from northern Chile. The hot climate costumes were minimal. They featured grass skirts and loin cloths. Exaggerated hip movements from the women and masculine posturing were encouraged by music from conch horns, carved flutes and ukulele accompanied by tuned drum pairs, tenor and alto. A woman who sang with a creamy smooth voice in many styles also played a beautifully bound and skinned, horizontally held bass drum. The drummers were superb as they gave well timed transition signals to the dancers in one medley that featured numerous style and costume changes.

Chilean Dances, Polynesian Influences

Dance sequences from the extreme northern part of Chile were especially fun for Isa and me to watch. The costumes and masks were evidence of strong Peruvian influences. Gestures and moves mixed with, for us, familiar rhythms, melodies and instruments. We were transported back to Puno, Peru that sits on the northern shores of Lake Titicaca. There we enjoyed much music and dance and even witnessed the filming of a Peruvian rock video. Rock band members wore similar masks and costumes to the ones we were seeing and used similar gestures and postures. The Chilean dance show was a wonderfully entertaining evening.

Chilean Dances, Peruvian Influences

We also visited Santa Cruz to sample some excellent Chilean wines at the Colchagua Valley harvest festival. The children were much more interested in the locomotives, weapons and farm machinery so we spent most of the afternoon visiting a museum that celebrates all that is Chilean. It features human interaction with the land from the first humans to the present day. The displays were eclectic and fascinating at once.  

The Wine Festival

The Museum

There was a multi-room display of artifacts and dioramas that outlined the mine collapse and eventual rescue of  "The 33”, miners in 2010 who were pulled from the ground in northern Chile. Murray, who is a mining executive, enthusiastically fleshed out details for us and answered questions. He pointed out photos of colleagues who were involved in the life and death decisions that led to the eventual rescue of the mine workers.

Lunch Stop on the Road to Santa Cruz

At the Chilean Museum

Capsule that rescued "The 33"

One room centred on the Mapuche of present day southern Chile. This area remained independent from complete Spanish conquest during colonial times. "Pacification" of the Mapuche was carried out by Chilean forces in the late 19th century, 50 years after the country's independence from Spain. The desire to link numerous remote communities in Chilean Patagonia with the north prompted Presidente Pinochet to build the "Carratera Austral". It is a 1,200 Km road from O'Higgins, in the south to Puerto Montt in the north. It is a wild ride through remote and mountainous country. Even though parts of it are now paved or at least improved, riding Carretera Austral is still on South American adventure riders' "must do" lists. Read more about this area in the next chapter.

Photos of  Mapuche People from the Austral Region

Typical Foods of the Mapuche, in the South of Chile

Working on the Blog in Santiago

Relaxing in the garden or on shopping trips to several malls rounded out our time in sunny Santiago. The children had been delightful. We experienced several chances to learn about Chilean culture. Five star food, at home and in restaurants, perfect weather and warm conversation created the ideal environment for re-connecting with family.

Easy Conversation

Mel and Bruno