20/12/2013 Coyhaique to the Rio El Blanco
D70, T4.5/7, Av15, max82, Tot 23387, 13590
Fine, cool evening fresh westerlies
We got away about 1130, it was as always good to be leaving a town and getting back onto the road not really knowing what was ahead. Especially not knowing at what point the days ride would end.
We were both loaded up, Cal could feel the weight difference. For me it was just the same, heavy, though always a burden of pleasure moving it south.
The wind though west, had heaps of north in it, we were getting blown along at great rate of knots.
The scenery was quite ordinary, at one point you could have been just cruising through some moderate rainfall rural country in NZ or Oz. No mountains were visible anywhere.
Lunch was had at the base of up to Cerro Castillo by a small watercourse. As we ascended, we were in need of water. In one valley a small stream was seen.
Just up the road was a guy with all the panniers off his bike.
Alex from Romania had a bolt loose on his rack and had no socket to fit it.
I always carry a tiny shifter handy. He used this and sorted the problem. Cal and I kept going after a chat.
We thought we might camp together.
We continued to climb to about 1000m and came across the Laguna at Cerro Castillo.
A popular camping spot.
We soon came to the northerly extent of Chile national animal, the Huemul, a sure footed deer.
Once common, land clearing and other habitat destruction have reduced its numbers in this southern area of the province we are in, Aisen to just a few hundred.
Road signs were everywhere to alert drivers of their presence.
Once at the summit we, the wind was fierce and on the nose.
We had to be careful descending when confronted by the gusts.
We were now following the rio El Blanco, aptly named due to the creamy bed rock in its course and the water colour to some extent.
Markers on the corners were some 3 metres high indicating the depth of snow received here.
Nearing the bottom we came across access to the Sendero De chile, part of a future national trail network.
Here we found the perfect spot to camp alongside the rio El Blanco.
Whilst hunting for the spot. Alex caming wheeling along the track.
We all found a spot and pitched our tents.
Cal caught a few fish which we shared with Alex. It was a cold night.
21/12/2013 Sandero De Chile Las Horquetas to Laguna Verde
D52, T4/8, Av12, Max 66, Tot 23439, 13,643
Fine with strong winds in the valleys
We were welcomed early in the morning with a heavy frost, I wondered why I was cold most of the night.
We had set up to catch the morning sun so things thawed and began to dry quite fast.
We had an enjoyable night chatting, Alex is good company and we all get on .
He is actually from Transylvania in Romania of all places. This fact triggered some verbal sparring.
It was great to find out about life in this little heard of country.
Getting to bed now around midnight is the norm, due to the long days and our penchant to leave unhurriedly.
Cal slipped down for an early fish and as usual caught a nice one which was set free to swim again.
The camp was a pleasure in the soft meadow grass. The need for an airbed was questionable. The El Blanco rushing by was always a relaxing sound in the background.
Well the first night in the Tarra was like moving into a castle for Cal and I.
Heaps of room, no condensation problems and opens and pockets where ever we needed them.
In short, I am wrapped with it. The colour is a dark green that blends in with the surrounds perfectly.
Its first night saw the fly covered in ice from the frost. Though the feature most beneficicial is the roof vent, offering 3 opening options. This reduces condensation immensely.
As we were packing a farmer wandered through and briefly stopped for a chat.
Out on the still asphalt road we were following a small stream through a valley walled by steep rocky ranges that arose from Coyhaique covered bases.
The scenery was now becoming quite dramatic, colours were superb and the ranges displayed a fascinating variety of rock formation.
At one bend in the road were a couple of other cyclists. A French couple in their late 60’s. We stopped and talked to them for half an hour or more.
Conversation was in French, English and Spanish. They were an animated enthusiastic couple, lovely inspirational people, who were seasoned cyclists and travellers in general.
Alex has spent much time on skifields at Chamonix in France working so his French was very good.
Coming from Australia and having no immediate need to speak a second language, you sometimes feel inadequate amongst these bi or tri lingual Europeans.
For me now I have a nice feeling after having had meaningful communication with people in a second language.
My ability to separate words as people speak is now improving. In short things are coming together somewhat.
We parted company and meandered along. Stopping to record the landscape and each other on many occasions.
The wind was head on and funnelling up the valley we were ascending. Nearing the top, we came across a Brazillian guy heading north. He was riding north to meet a girl friend. We stirred him, suggesting you would only ride north to meet a girl.
He was, infact, heading back down after their reunion.
It is such a pleasure meeting all these different an interesting travellers on the road. We are all pretty concentrated now so these encounters are becoming common.
Once at the summit it was a cruise down against fierce head winds. Such a bugger. Though with Cerro Castillo to our right in the range our fascination with its serrated peak made us soon forget about the windy riding conditions.
Castillo was the kind of mountain that if you saw it in a movie you would say it was digitally constructed. It indeed was like a long toothed saw with broken teeth of all sizes along its length.
Soon we arrived at the foot of the descent into Villa Cerro de Castillo. Here we were still wind lashed.
Turning off the Austral we headed down to the supermercado and bought some fruit and bread.
The guy had fresh seedless grapes in, they were purple marbles from the gods after all that wind that desertified our mouths.
We headed down to the community centre and found shelter. Here we ate and generally just chilled out .
The gravel road began as soon as we left town.
This was now the Carraterra Austral real, traffic was light, the scenery dramatic and always a wind buffeting us.
On one small ascent Alexs bottom mounting on his rear rack failed.
Repairs saw us here for sometime, luckily Cal had a spare bolt readily accessible, we fitted this and moved on.
A farmer was moving cattle along the road. He had a hell of a job trying to get them to walk past us. Finally they were moved through trees on the bend to to avoid us.
He understood we had problems.
At about 2030 hours we were approached by two other cyclists from the states.
They looked like they were just out for an afternoon ride. With a small bag strapped to their handlebars and a pack on the back of their high tech composite bikes.
Their bikes and gear weighed 16kgs, the bikes alone were only 9kgs.
They were riding to Ushuaia also.
They had no stove and ate cold food only, though they camped, with their average distance of 100km/day they would be able to eat at towns almost every day.
It was interesting chatting with them. The two of them, their bikes and gear weighed less than just my gear.
Come 2130 we were in need of a camp. We came across Laguna Verde and descended to its shores along the road.
A camp was found by the bridge, though exposed to the road we really had no choice at this time of night. Water was at hand and it would receive the morning sun and protection from the night sky was offered by trees.
Again, after dinner it was almost midnight before we climbed into our sleeping bags. It had been another fascinating day out here.
Riding on the gravel, coupled with the concentration required, one soon forgets about the wind and other hardships required to proceed south.
Not to mention the arresting scenery we record at very regular intervals.
The evening was mild, with the wind at rest.
22/12/2013 Laguna Verde a bush camp on a stream
D34, T2.5, Av11.64, Max31, Tot 23,473, 13,677
Overcast, light wind mild.
It had indeed been a mild night, arising early for me was no problem. I enjoyed an early morning coffee and mate alone by the waters edge writing my journal entry.
My bum on one stool and the laptop on the other.
The guys were up an hour later.
We had camped on bare dry dirt, the dust around the camp was like talcum powder.
I had said to Alex, we might start the day with a mouthful of coca leaves.
This we did, before heading up the bank to the road. Alex had not tried these before.
I had some all the way from Peru. It was nice to share them with others. The road was flat going and easy riding. The scenery was nothing like the dramatic canvas of yesterday.
We decided to finish all the Coca so after half an hour or so pulled over for another session.
By now our gums and mouths were pleasantly numb.
Riding on we had the music going on my speaker and were just enjoying the presence of all around us.
Often riding 3 abreast and chatting. Another hour up the road we stopped again for a little top up.
Though we were not high, the effects of the leaf chewed with cal, the catalyst to release the active ingredient were pleasant to say the least.
One last time we pulled over and finished off what I had. The leaves after all this time were very dry. It was like chewing dry tea until your saliva moistened it.
The cal was chewed with this, more was added and after sometime it was spat out.
A rich green mixture expelled. A lot like the Betel nut so popular in Papua Nuigini. Where the main street of Port Morseby is red from the spit of users.
Should the users of the two susbstances ever get together in big numbers there is potential for street art, especially in Port Morseby.
Sublimely, the coca leaves give you a sense of well being, that, where nothing is too much of a burden.
Thousands of people in Peru and Bolivia would not be chewing it just to get a numb mouth.
We stopped at a creek for lunch of coffee, fruit, bread and sardines and of course dulce.
From here the road was still in good condition and gently rolling. Two Condors were working the thermals above us, they actually came quite close.
We stopped to marvel at their effortless wandering in the sky above us.
There were nearby cliffs, possibly their home was nearby.
I was up ahead, when Cal whistled, Alexs rack had broken again, this time on the other side. This time a bit more tricky, again a bolt had broken off in the frame.it could not be extracted.
In the end we improvised with a hose clamp I was using to hold my go pro bracket on the handlebars.
This secured it perfectly.
We rode on for another few km and found a nice creek on which to camp. Our maps showed it as the last creek near the road for some time.
It was all fenced, but with 3 able guys we were able to help each other to get the bikes around the fence where it met the creek bank.
This took us to a most tranquil setting under Coigúe trees.
It was nice to be at the camp early, Cal fished with no luck, we had an early soup. The guys played guitar. I got my harp out and mucked around.
One day I hope to learn to play a little on it.
It has been with me since Clarkesdale Mississippi. My friend Deak Harp, a blues musician built it up for me. For him, I would love to be able to play a tune or two.
We had an early dinner and were in bed by about 2100.
It had been a day of few kilometres, a day totally unplanned as always.
A day where we just enjoyed each others company, our own company and especially our presence here in Patagonia riding down the Carraterra Austral at one with all around us.
The icing on the cake for us, had to be, no one was expecting us to be anywhere, we had no immediate responsibilities and we could choose where we were to sleep.
We were 3 guys, all with different life experiences, as free as could be, we were sub conscientiously bathing in this knowledge. Our bath was one of the most beautiful accessible areas on the planet.
The guitar playing before bed left us all relaxed and looking forward to an early night.
23/12/2013 Bush camp to the banks of the Rio Engaño
D65, T4/7, Av15.18, Max60, Tot 23,538, 13,742
Overcast and mild, light winds
We had all slept really well in our little part of the Patagonian bush amongst the Coigúe (Nothofagus dombeyi) trees both ancient and not so ancient.
These trees are a species of Southern Beech, genus Nothofagus. Seven species are found in the Patagonian Andes.
These southern beeches form the basis of the forest in almost all areas
It had rained overnight and was still drizzling inthe morning with saturated trees still dropping water.
We were all up about 0730, when we heard a tapping noise, here on the trunk was a Woodpecker tapping away in search for breakfast, he was unperturbed by our presence.
The Spánish word for Woodpecker is Carpintero, so aptly named.
The rain stopped enough for us to have breakfast and pack.
It was best for us to remove the inner of my tent and store this dry. The fly was soaked and with shade and no sun we were never going to get it dry.
We all helped each other around the fence again.
We chatted about our experience yesterday with the coca leaves and came to the conclusion we were most certainly in an elevated state whilst using the leaves.
We all felt a bit flat like having come down around lunchtime yesterday.
It was an interesting experience to have. One always remembered.
Once on the road, the going was superb, the road in good condition and generally flat.
Todays max speed gives you an indication of road conditions. We undulated through heavy forest until we descended into the Rio Murta valley.
A huge valley with a floor containing largely the bed of the river. The Murta was milk in colour, that of glacial origins.
We were making good time on the smooth flat surface.
Arriving at the turnoff to Puerto Murta, we enjoyed ice creams and stocked up on a few essentials, bread and the like.
We enjoyed lunch on the foreshores of Lago General Carrera, named lago Buenos Aires in AR. South Americas deepest lake.
We dried our tents here also.
It reinstalled my inner tent for the nights camping.
Alex borrowed tools to lower his back rack as to ease the purchase of the weight.
It was 4km into the pueblito of 548 people.
These small pueblitos are having alot of money spent on their town centres by the government, here newly concreted streets were present, water and sewrage were being reticulated and processed.
As the carrterra gets paved these little pueblitos will likely see further change and growth.
Traffic on the road is reasonably frequent, on Sunday it was busy, possibly with the end and beginning of tour company’s weeks for their guests, almost all traffic is courteous.
Crossing the bridge before town, looking just upstream there was an old walking bridge, with the timbers just hanging from the cables.
Harrison Ford was seen crossing the dilapidated and treacherously dangerous structure over equally treacherous frigid, rapidly flowing waters below.
Only he could traverse such a structure and live to recall the event on the other side of the river!!
It truly was like a movie setting.
Riding was still easy with a few climbs, some locals told us there was only one cuesta, slope, between here and the next pueblito.
Soon we came to the Rio and turned off the carraterra and followed the road up the river.
It to was another glacial feed river, milky in its presence.
We found a great camp right alongside the waters. Cal fished with no luck.
The night was spent playing guitar, listening to music and talking about our lives.
The sound of the river was that between rapidly flowing and lazy rapids. Just the perfect flow rate with a sound everso soothing and relaxing.
The morning sun would bath us from the east across the river.
Mountains with patchy snow were very close to the North West from camp.
The snow was a patch work affair on the treeless upper reaches.
Our progress has been slow, relaxing and enjoyable, the 3 of us are in no hurry.
The presence of a river near the end of the afternoon is often enough to see us pull in looking for a campsite.
We have been without trout now for a few days.
Myself and Cal are starting to crave for a meal of the fish.
It is hard to believe it is Christmas tomorrow, out here doing this, it has a lot less significance for me.
I think back of all the mad rushing around, socialising, relentless buying of gifts and food that proceeds this special day.
It is so nice not to be caught up in that frenzy. Here we are on Christmas eve morning on the banks of the Rio Engaño in Patagonia. Things could be a lot worse.
At the moment
I am still in the tent typing, it is 0830, Alex took an early morning walk, Cal made me coffee in bed.
Alex is now back and the guys are playing guitar. Cal is very good.
The river is still soothing us with the sound of her waters.
For me this is a Christmas eve morning of feelings that words at the moment cannot describe.
There is a peaceful warmth flowing in my veins, a kind of peacefulness when everything at the time is just perfect.
Guitars do have a lovely sound. Possibly we will leave this idyllic location a little late today!! Possibly??
24/12/2013 Rio Engaño to riverside camp sth of Villa Leon
D65, T5/9, Av1.77, Max43, Tot 23604, 13807
Fine and warm Northerly winds
Yes we got away about 1200, no sooner had we hit the Austral, the corrugations started, in no light way. They were filling rattlers.
Soon were were riding alongside Lago General Carrera.
This lake had an almost pastel like blue colour, so vivid. The country was alot drier now. It is the largest lake in Chile and extends across the border into AR. There it is named Lago Buenos Aires.
This is normal between the two countries with most passes having different names, it can be quite confusing when talking about their locations.
It was a kind of day where we were climbing ridges leading down to the lake and descending their other side all day.
Traffic again was light.
Arriving at Villa Tranquilo, we bought a few provisions. Alex tried to find a gas cylinder with no luck. We enjoyed some of the nicest bread we have had in some time.
Cal and I are now buying these big cans of sardines, to eat on bread or crackers. We all left the pueblito with overly full stomachs.
Again we were blessed with tail winds out of the north west.
We also bought wine, a xmas cake and potatoes for dinner.
All the rivers we were passing now were not really trout habitat, they were milky and flowing rapidly with no egg laying gravel or weed present.
We were looking for a campsite with exceptional qualities, ambience and fishing, afterall tomorrow is xmas day.
Come about 2030 nearing the end of the ride along the lake we headed into a track that we hoped would take us down to the river we had just crossed.
Again, it was a huge turquoise affair, in a big hurry with white water at regular intervals.
We headed in about 1km to an open area, unfortunately the river was bordered by impenetrable vegetation. Out we rode.
Things were looking a little grim as to finding an idyllic Christmas camp.
Riding on and now getting towards 2100, the best we could come up with was a flat gravelly area alongside a smaller though still milky river.
In this area were growing Rosehips, they are still flowing, displaying their pink petals. They are to be watched out for with their thorns.
We set up camp, it was a far cry from our visions of a good camp.
We lit a fire, ate the cake and drank wine. Christmas greetings were exchanged at midnight.
Alex presented Cal and I with a Transylvania fridge magnet each, a great gesture.
We sat around the fire for some time chatting and then climbed into bed. Three tired cyclists
It was somewhat of an anticlimax, Kind of like arriving at your favourite holiday town to find everything was booked.
We were disappointed but never had our spirits dampened.
During the night a huge gust of wind woke us all.
The Hilleberg tent felt very solid during the brief onslaught from nature. Callum and I are wondering how we got on without this tent.
It has so much room inside and the vestibules at each end can take all our gear if need be. It has all sorts of vents and screens. The weather proof ceiling vent is great for reducing condensation.
Given torrential rain and wind I feel we would still be comfortable.
We all woke up in the middle of the night craving for water.
25/12/2013 Lago General Carrera to 10 km before Cochrane
D73, T5.5/9, Av 12.27, Max 53, Tot 23,676, 13,880
Howling norwester, fine.
We all arose around 0800, the camp was not one to hang around. Alex wanted to get to Cochrane early, so he departed about 1000.
We bade farewell, knowing we would catch up again. Cal and i were in no hurry.
I had to fix a pannier, a mounting screw had let go.
Some advice to other tourers using Ortlieb Roller backs.
Just check the 4 screws holding the plastic bar that the hooks are attached to make sure they are tight. The gravel and corrugations for the last couple of weeks had worked them loose.
Carry spare screws, the black plastic nut always fall into the pannier.
I treated myself to a xmas shave down by the river. We were ready to move on about 1200.
The idea was to take another nights camping and get to Cochrane early boxing day.
This was one Xmas Callum and I wont forget, Alex included.
It had been a great few days riding together, we had a heap of fun. Though it was nice for Callum and I to be together again, after all that is what it is about for us. Spending time with others is great, but unless there is some other kind of bond other than just riding together.
The time comes when both parties know when to say goodbye. It is kind of an unspoken knowledge. We will no doubt see each other again on the way south.
Cal and I were really enjoying the road. The northerly wind was aiding greatly.
Crossing the bridge that spans the narrowest section of the lake we began a steady climb for most of the latter part of the day.
We stopped for water from Lago Bertrand.
Soon we came upon the place where the River Baker begins. To say this is a huge river poorly describes the volume of water passing me as I stood on its banks amongst trees. There were waves washing the shore from the sheer volume moving past. The rapids present were from rocks well below the surface.
This river has the greatest volume in Chile. It may not mean much to you but it flows at the rate of 900 cubic metres of water per second. That is a 300m by 300m equal sided box of water cruising on by every second.
As a comparison at Rangiriri on the Waikato River in NZ, on 24/12/2013 flow rate was 209 cm3/sec.
The discharge of the Clarence River is 160cm3/sec
The Baker and Pascua Rivers are fed by the largest ice fields in the world outside of Greenland and Antarctica. Despite being only 170 km long, the Baker River has the highest flow of any river in Chile at an average of 870 cubic meters per second (m3/s),[1] drains 26,726 km2 of land,[2] is Chile's largest remaining wild river, and runs along the edge of a proposed national park. Half its water comes from Lake General Carrera, South America's second largest and deepest lake, shared by Chile and Argentina. The other half of the Baker River's water comes from ice melt from the northern Patagonian Ice Field Ref: Aquapedia.
Riding along above the river for sometime there were lodgings offering fishing, rafting etc, some very upmarket.
We stopped for lunch and a fish alongside the river. Fishing from a boat would be more productive in this huge waterway, we guessed.
Where we had lunch, the main flow was way across the other side. On our side the water was actually flowing upstream such were the currents.
We spent some time in the warm sun out of the wind. Cal had his bike parked above us on the slope, the wind blew it off the clic stand. It did a complete roll down the hill. No damage, we were lucky.
Come 1900 we approached a bit of a climb, climb we did, it never ended, though we were literally pushed up hills in the wind, especially the cuttings. Once at the summit, now 2030 we headed down in the hope of finding a campsite on the inevitable river below.
The inevitable river below was inaccessible, so we had to keep riding. Again, we ascended a switch backed road to get out of the river valley.
Once at the top and traversing along the slope down to the river, at 2100 I got a flat tyre. This was repaired. You would not believe it, at about 2130 cal got his first flat tyre for the trip.
This was repaired. We needed a campsite pretty soon though we already talking about riding in the dark.
We stopped to fill the bladder with water, to allow us to camp anywhere.
We were riding slowly looking for gates or fences down. The latter was spotted. We managed to straddle the fence and get the bikes down to what was a hole in the ground from excavation.
This was needed to get out of the wind. It was actually a great campsite, river or no river.
We finished eating at 2330 and retired to the tent both of us were asleep in a ridiculously short time.
It had been one of those totally unexpected days. We were only 9km from Cochrane.
We were so relieved to have put that big range behind us. Tomorrow would be an easy ride to town after 6 nights in the tent.
They were a fun filled 6 days with Alex, in country that ranged from high rainfall to rather dryish terrain.
26/12/2013 To Cochrane.
D10, T 44min, Av13, Max46, Tot 23686, 13,890
Cool and overcast
We had a great nights sleep after a huge meal last night. The campsite sufficed to keep us out of the wind. We were surrounded by Rosehip plants and other spiny vegetation.
It was a short climb to Cochrane, we stopped fpr a fish in a river with trout written all over it. Slow flowing a clear green and good cover.
The writing was a bit obvious, the trout probably knew what every lure looked like, being this close to the road.
Arriving in Cochrane we booked a cabaña to treat ourselves.
These are like self contained small dwellings. Here we got the fire going and washed clothing, spent a fortune at the local supermercado.
Don’t buy Bencina here another small ferretería in the west part of town had 2 litres cheaper than the price of 1 at the main general store.
We roasted a heap of chicken and relaxed in the cosy little pad for the night and watched a bit of tele.
I over ate, having been in the tent for 6 days. Little things like hot water on tap and different food are so luxurious. Ice cream is always a favourite in towns.
We briefly caught up with Alex who was camping in town. There are cyclists everywhere.
For me it is very important to keep my blog up to date on the road each evening or at least in the morning whilst I have battery power.
This allows the small details to be documented. Though like everything sometimes I don’t feel like writing. Then other times it just flows.
Trying to document events of a few days ago can be difficult and lack spontaneity.
D70, T4.5/7, Av15, max82, Tot 23387, 13590
Fine, cool evening fresh westerlies
We got away about 1130, it was as always good to be leaving a town and getting back onto the road not really knowing what was ahead. Especially not knowing at what point the days ride would end.
We were both loaded up, Cal could feel the weight difference. For me it was just the same, heavy, though always a burden of pleasure moving it south.
The wind though west, had heaps of north in it, we were getting blown along at great rate of knots.
The scenery was quite ordinary, at one point you could have been just cruising through some moderate rainfall rural country in NZ or Oz. No mountains were visible anywhere.
Lunch was had at the base of up to Cerro Castillo by a small watercourse. As we ascended, we were in need of water. In one valley a small stream was seen.
Just up the road was a guy with all the panniers off his bike.
Alex from Romania had a bolt loose on his rack and had no socket to fit it.
I always carry a tiny shifter handy. He used this and sorted the problem. Cal and I kept going after a chat.
We thought we might camp together.
We continued to climb to about 1000m and came across the Laguna at Cerro Castillo.
A popular camping spot.
We soon came to the northerly extent of Chile national animal, the Huemul, a sure footed deer.
Once common, land clearing and other habitat destruction have reduced its numbers in this southern area of the province we are in, Aisen to just a few hundred.
Road signs were everywhere to alert drivers of their presence.
Once at the summit we, the wind was fierce and on the nose.
We had to be careful descending when confronted by the gusts.
We were now following the rio El Blanco, aptly named due to the creamy bed rock in its course and the water colour to some extent.
Markers on the corners were some 3 metres high indicating the depth of snow received here.
Nearing the bottom we came across access to the Sendero De chile, part of a future national trail network.
Here we found the perfect spot to camp alongside the rio El Blanco.
Whilst hunting for the spot. Alex caming wheeling along the track.
We all found a spot and pitched our tents.
Cal caught a few fish which we shared with Alex. It was a cold night.
21/12/2013 Sandero De Chile Las Horquetas to Laguna Verde
D52, T4/8, Av12, Max 66, Tot 23439, 13,643
Fine with strong winds in the valleys
We were welcomed early in the morning with a heavy frost, I wondered why I was cold most of the night.
We had set up to catch the morning sun so things thawed and began to dry quite fast.
We had an enjoyable night chatting, Alex is good company and we all get on .
He is actually from Transylvania in Romania of all places. This fact triggered some verbal sparring.
It was great to find out about life in this little heard of country.
Getting to bed now around midnight is the norm, due to the long days and our penchant to leave unhurriedly.
Cal slipped down for an early fish and as usual caught a nice one which was set free to swim again.
The camp was a pleasure in the soft meadow grass. The need for an airbed was questionable. The El Blanco rushing by was always a relaxing sound in the background.
Well the first night in the Tarra was like moving into a castle for Cal and I.
Heaps of room, no condensation problems and opens and pockets where ever we needed them.
In short, I am wrapped with it. The colour is a dark green that blends in with the surrounds perfectly.
Its first night saw the fly covered in ice from the frost. Though the feature most beneficicial is the roof vent, offering 3 opening options. This reduces condensation immensely.
As we were packing a farmer wandered through and briefly stopped for a chat.
Out on the still asphalt road we were following a small stream through a valley walled by steep rocky ranges that arose from Coyhaique covered bases.
The scenery was now becoming quite dramatic, colours were superb and the ranges displayed a fascinating variety of rock formation.
At one bend in the road were a couple of other cyclists. A French couple in their late 60’s. We stopped and talked to them for half an hour or more.
Conversation was in French, English and Spanish. They were an animated enthusiastic couple, lovely inspirational people, who were seasoned cyclists and travellers in general.
Alex has spent much time on skifields at Chamonix in France working so his French was very good.
Coming from Australia and having no immediate need to speak a second language, you sometimes feel inadequate amongst these bi or tri lingual Europeans.
For me now I have a nice feeling after having had meaningful communication with people in a second language.
My ability to separate words as people speak is now improving. In short things are coming together somewhat.
We parted company and meandered along. Stopping to record the landscape and each other on many occasions.
The wind was head on and funnelling up the valley we were ascending. Nearing the top, we came across a Brazillian guy heading north. He was riding north to meet a girl friend. We stirred him, suggesting you would only ride north to meet a girl.
He was, infact, heading back down after their reunion.
It is such a pleasure meeting all these different an interesting travellers on the road. We are all pretty concentrated now so these encounters are becoming common.
Once at the summit it was a cruise down against fierce head winds. Such a bugger. Though with Cerro Castillo to our right in the range our fascination with its serrated peak made us soon forget about the windy riding conditions.
Castillo was the kind of mountain that if you saw it in a movie you would say it was digitally constructed. It indeed was like a long toothed saw with broken teeth of all sizes along its length.
Soon we arrived at the foot of the descent into Villa Cerro de Castillo. Here we were still wind lashed.
Turning off the Austral we headed down to the supermercado and bought some fruit and bread.
The guy had fresh seedless grapes in, they were purple marbles from the gods after all that wind that desertified our mouths.
We headed down to the community centre and found shelter. Here we ate and generally just chilled out .
The gravel road began as soon as we left town.
This was now the Carraterra Austral real, traffic was light, the scenery dramatic and always a wind buffeting us.
On one small ascent Alexs bottom mounting on his rear rack failed.
Repairs saw us here for sometime, luckily Cal had a spare bolt readily accessible, we fitted this and moved on.
A farmer was moving cattle along the road. He had a hell of a job trying to get them to walk past us. Finally they were moved through trees on the bend to to avoid us.
He understood we had problems.
At about 2030 hours we were approached by two other cyclists from the states.
They looked like they were just out for an afternoon ride. With a small bag strapped to their handlebars and a pack on the back of their high tech composite bikes.
Their bikes and gear weighed 16kgs, the bikes alone were only 9kgs.
They were riding to Ushuaia also.
They had no stove and ate cold food only, though they camped, with their average distance of 100km/day they would be able to eat at towns almost every day.
It was interesting chatting with them. The two of them, their bikes and gear weighed less than just my gear.
Come 2130 we were in need of a camp. We came across Laguna Verde and descended to its shores along the road.
A camp was found by the bridge, though exposed to the road we really had no choice at this time of night. Water was at hand and it would receive the morning sun and protection from the night sky was offered by trees.
Again, after dinner it was almost midnight before we climbed into our sleeping bags. It had been another fascinating day out here.
Riding on the gravel, coupled with the concentration required, one soon forgets about the wind and other hardships required to proceed south.
Not to mention the arresting scenery we record at very regular intervals.
The evening was mild, with the wind at rest.
22/12/2013 Laguna Verde a bush camp on a stream
D34, T2.5, Av11.64, Max31, Tot 23,473, 13,677
Overcast, light wind mild.
It had indeed been a mild night, arising early for me was no problem. I enjoyed an early morning coffee and mate alone by the waters edge writing my journal entry.
My bum on one stool and the laptop on the other.
The guys were up an hour later.
We had camped on bare dry dirt, the dust around the camp was like talcum powder.
I had said to Alex, we might start the day with a mouthful of coca leaves.
This we did, before heading up the bank to the road. Alex had not tried these before.
I had some all the way from Peru. It was nice to share them with others. The road was flat going and easy riding. The scenery was nothing like the dramatic canvas of yesterday.
We decided to finish all the Coca so after half an hour or so pulled over for another session.
By now our gums and mouths were pleasantly numb.
Riding on we had the music going on my speaker and were just enjoying the presence of all around us.
Often riding 3 abreast and chatting. Another hour up the road we stopped again for a little top up.
Though we were not high, the effects of the leaf chewed with cal, the catalyst to release the active ingredient were pleasant to say the least.
One last time we pulled over and finished off what I had. The leaves after all this time were very dry. It was like chewing dry tea until your saliva moistened it.
The cal was chewed with this, more was added and after sometime it was spat out.
A rich green mixture expelled. A lot like the Betel nut so popular in Papua Nuigini. Where the main street of Port Morseby is red from the spit of users.
Should the users of the two susbstances ever get together in big numbers there is potential for street art, especially in Port Morseby.
Sublimely, the coca leaves give you a sense of well being, that, where nothing is too much of a burden.
Thousands of people in Peru and Bolivia would not be chewing it just to get a numb mouth.
We stopped at a creek for lunch of coffee, fruit, bread and sardines and of course dulce.
From here the road was still in good condition and gently rolling. Two Condors were working the thermals above us, they actually came quite close.
We stopped to marvel at their effortless wandering in the sky above us.
There were nearby cliffs, possibly their home was nearby.
I was up ahead, when Cal whistled, Alexs rack had broken again, this time on the other side. This time a bit more tricky, again a bolt had broken off in the frame.it could not be extracted.
In the end we improvised with a hose clamp I was using to hold my go pro bracket on the handlebars.
This secured it perfectly.
We rode on for another few km and found a nice creek on which to camp. Our maps showed it as the last creek near the road for some time.
It was all fenced, but with 3 able guys we were able to help each other to get the bikes around the fence where it met the creek bank.
This took us to a most tranquil setting under Coigúe trees.
It was nice to be at the camp early, Cal fished with no luck, we had an early soup. The guys played guitar. I got my harp out and mucked around.
One day I hope to learn to play a little on it.
It has been with me since Clarkesdale Mississippi. My friend Deak Harp, a blues musician built it up for me. For him, I would love to be able to play a tune or two.
We had an early dinner and were in bed by about 2100.
It had been a day of few kilometres, a day totally unplanned as always.
A day where we just enjoyed each others company, our own company and especially our presence here in Patagonia riding down the Carraterra Austral at one with all around us.
The icing on the cake for us, had to be, no one was expecting us to be anywhere, we had no immediate responsibilities and we could choose where we were to sleep.
We were 3 guys, all with different life experiences, as free as could be, we were sub conscientiously bathing in this knowledge. Our bath was one of the most beautiful accessible areas on the planet.
The guitar playing before bed left us all relaxed and looking forward to an early night.
23/12/2013 Bush camp to the banks of the Rio Engaño
D65, T4/7, Av15.18, Max60, Tot 23,538, 13,742
Overcast and mild, light winds
We had all slept really well in our little part of the Patagonian bush amongst the Coigúe (Nothofagus dombeyi) trees both ancient and not so ancient.
These trees are a species of Southern Beech, genus Nothofagus. Seven species are found in the Patagonian Andes.
These southern beeches form the basis of the forest in almost all areas
It had rained overnight and was still drizzling inthe morning with saturated trees still dropping water.
We were all up about 0730, when we heard a tapping noise, here on the trunk was a Woodpecker tapping away in search for breakfast, he was unperturbed by our presence.
The Spánish word for Woodpecker is Carpintero, so aptly named.
The rain stopped enough for us to have breakfast and pack.
It was best for us to remove the inner of my tent and store this dry. The fly was soaked and with shade and no sun we were never going to get it dry.
We all helped each other around the fence again.
We chatted about our experience yesterday with the coca leaves and came to the conclusion we were most certainly in an elevated state whilst using the leaves.
We all felt a bit flat like having come down around lunchtime yesterday.
It was an interesting experience to have. One always remembered.
Once on the road, the going was superb, the road in good condition and generally flat.
Todays max speed gives you an indication of road conditions. We undulated through heavy forest until we descended into the Rio Murta valley.
A huge valley with a floor containing largely the bed of the river. The Murta was milk in colour, that of glacial origins.
We were making good time on the smooth flat surface.
Arriving at the turnoff to Puerto Murta, we enjoyed ice creams and stocked up on a few essentials, bread and the like.
We enjoyed lunch on the foreshores of Lago General Carrera, named lago Buenos Aires in AR. South Americas deepest lake.
We dried our tents here also.
It reinstalled my inner tent for the nights camping.
Alex borrowed tools to lower his back rack as to ease the purchase of the weight.
It was 4km into the pueblito of 548 people.
These small pueblitos are having alot of money spent on their town centres by the government, here newly concreted streets were present, water and sewrage were being reticulated and processed.
As the carrterra gets paved these little pueblitos will likely see further change and growth.
Traffic on the road is reasonably frequent, on Sunday it was busy, possibly with the end and beginning of tour company’s weeks for their guests, almost all traffic is courteous.
Crossing the bridge before town, looking just upstream there was an old walking bridge, with the timbers just hanging from the cables.
Harrison Ford was seen crossing the dilapidated and treacherously dangerous structure over equally treacherous frigid, rapidly flowing waters below.
Only he could traverse such a structure and live to recall the event on the other side of the river!!
It truly was like a movie setting.
Riding was still easy with a few climbs, some locals told us there was only one cuesta, slope, between here and the next pueblito.
Soon we came to the Rio and turned off the carraterra and followed the road up the river.
It to was another glacial feed river, milky in its presence.
We found a great camp right alongside the waters. Cal fished with no luck.
The night was spent playing guitar, listening to music and talking about our lives.
The sound of the river was that between rapidly flowing and lazy rapids. Just the perfect flow rate with a sound everso soothing and relaxing.
The morning sun would bath us from the east across the river.
Mountains with patchy snow were very close to the North West from camp.
The snow was a patch work affair on the treeless upper reaches.
Our progress has been slow, relaxing and enjoyable, the 3 of us are in no hurry.
The presence of a river near the end of the afternoon is often enough to see us pull in looking for a campsite.
We have been without trout now for a few days.
Myself and Cal are starting to crave for a meal of the fish.
It is hard to believe it is Christmas tomorrow, out here doing this, it has a lot less significance for me.
I think back of all the mad rushing around, socialising, relentless buying of gifts and food that proceeds this special day.
It is so nice not to be caught up in that frenzy. Here we are on Christmas eve morning on the banks of the Rio Engaño in Patagonia. Things could be a lot worse.
At the moment
I am still in the tent typing, it is 0830, Alex took an early morning walk, Cal made me coffee in bed.
Alex is now back and the guys are playing guitar. Cal is very good.
The river is still soothing us with the sound of her waters.
For me this is a Christmas eve morning of feelings that words at the moment cannot describe.
There is a peaceful warmth flowing in my veins, a kind of peacefulness when everything at the time is just perfect.
Guitars do have a lovely sound. Possibly we will leave this idyllic location a little late today!! Possibly??
24/12/2013 Rio Engaño to riverside camp sth of Villa Leon
D65, T5/9, Av1.77, Max43, Tot 23604, 13807
Fine and warm Northerly winds
Yes we got away about 1200, no sooner had we hit the Austral, the corrugations started, in no light way. They were filling rattlers.
Soon were were riding alongside Lago General Carrera.
This lake had an almost pastel like blue colour, so vivid. The country was alot drier now. It is the largest lake in Chile and extends across the border into AR. There it is named Lago Buenos Aires.
This is normal between the two countries with most passes having different names, it can be quite confusing when talking about their locations.
It was a kind of day where we were climbing ridges leading down to the lake and descending their other side all day.
Traffic again was light.
Arriving at Villa Tranquilo, we bought a few provisions. Alex tried to find a gas cylinder with no luck. We enjoyed some of the nicest bread we have had in some time.
Cal and I are now buying these big cans of sardines, to eat on bread or crackers. We all left the pueblito with overly full stomachs.
Again we were blessed with tail winds out of the north west.
We also bought wine, a xmas cake and potatoes for dinner.
All the rivers we were passing now were not really trout habitat, they were milky and flowing rapidly with no egg laying gravel or weed present.
We were looking for a campsite with exceptional qualities, ambience and fishing, afterall tomorrow is xmas day.
Come about 2030 nearing the end of the ride along the lake we headed into a track that we hoped would take us down to the river we had just crossed.
Again, it was a huge turquoise affair, in a big hurry with white water at regular intervals.
We headed in about 1km to an open area, unfortunately the river was bordered by impenetrable vegetation. Out we rode.
Things were looking a little grim as to finding an idyllic Christmas camp.
Riding on and now getting towards 2100, the best we could come up with was a flat gravelly area alongside a smaller though still milky river.
In this area were growing Rosehips, they are still flowing, displaying their pink petals. They are to be watched out for with their thorns.
We set up camp, it was a far cry from our visions of a good camp.
We lit a fire, ate the cake and drank wine. Christmas greetings were exchanged at midnight.
Alex presented Cal and I with a Transylvania fridge magnet each, a great gesture.
We sat around the fire for some time chatting and then climbed into bed. Three tired cyclists
It was somewhat of an anticlimax, Kind of like arriving at your favourite holiday town to find everything was booked.
We were disappointed but never had our spirits dampened.
During the night a huge gust of wind woke us all.
The Hilleberg tent felt very solid during the brief onslaught from nature. Callum and I are wondering how we got on without this tent.
It has so much room inside and the vestibules at each end can take all our gear if need be. It has all sorts of vents and screens. The weather proof ceiling vent is great for reducing condensation.
Given torrential rain and wind I feel we would still be comfortable.
We all woke up in the middle of the night craving for water.
25/12/2013 Lago General Carrera to 10 km before Cochrane
D73, T5.5/9, Av 12.27, Max 53, Tot 23,676, 13,880
Howling norwester, fine.
We all arose around 0800, the camp was not one to hang around. Alex wanted to get to Cochrane early, so he departed about 1000.
We bade farewell, knowing we would catch up again. Cal and i were in no hurry.
I had to fix a pannier, a mounting screw had let go.
Some advice to other tourers using Ortlieb Roller backs.
Just check the 4 screws holding the plastic bar that the hooks are attached to make sure they are tight. The gravel and corrugations for the last couple of weeks had worked them loose.
Carry spare screws, the black plastic nut always fall into the pannier.
I treated myself to a xmas shave down by the river. We were ready to move on about 1200.
The idea was to take another nights camping and get to Cochrane early boxing day.
This was one Xmas Callum and I wont forget, Alex included.
It had been a great few days riding together, we had a heap of fun. Though it was nice for Callum and I to be together again, after all that is what it is about for us. Spending time with others is great, but unless there is some other kind of bond other than just riding together.
The time comes when both parties know when to say goodbye. It is kind of an unspoken knowledge. We will no doubt see each other again on the way south.
Cal and I were really enjoying the road. The northerly wind was aiding greatly.
Crossing the bridge that spans the narrowest section of the lake we began a steady climb for most of the latter part of the day.
We stopped for water from Lago Bertrand.
Soon we came upon the place where the River Baker begins. To say this is a huge river poorly describes the volume of water passing me as I stood on its banks amongst trees. There were waves washing the shore from the sheer volume moving past. The rapids present were from rocks well below the surface.
This river has the greatest volume in Chile. It may not mean much to you but it flows at the rate of 900 cubic metres of water per second. That is a 300m by 300m equal sided box of water cruising on by every second.
As a comparison at Rangiriri on the Waikato River in NZ, on 24/12/2013 flow rate was 209 cm3/sec.
The discharge of the Clarence River is 160cm3/sec
The Baker and Pascua Rivers are fed by the largest ice fields in the world outside of Greenland and Antarctica. Despite being only 170 km long, the Baker River has the highest flow of any river in Chile at an average of 870 cubic meters per second (m3/s),[1] drains 26,726 km2 of land,[2] is Chile's largest remaining wild river, and runs along the edge of a proposed national park. Half its water comes from Lake General Carrera, South America's second largest and deepest lake, shared by Chile and Argentina. The other half of the Baker River's water comes from ice melt from the northern Patagonian Ice Field Ref: Aquapedia.
Riding along above the river for sometime there were lodgings offering fishing, rafting etc, some very upmarket.
We stopped for lunch and a fish alongside the river. Fishing from a boat would be more productive in this huge waterway, we guessed.
Where we had lunch, the main flow was way across the other side. On our side the water was actually flowing upstream such were the currents.
We spent some time in the warm sun out of the wind. Cal had his bike parked above us on the slope, the wind blew it off the clic stand. It did a complete roll down the hill. No damage, we were lucky.
Come 1900 we approached a bit of a climb, climb we did, it never ended, though we were literally pushed up hills in the wind, especially the cuttings. Once at the summit, now 2030 we headed down in the hope of finding a campsite on the inevitable river below.
The inevitable river below was inaccessible, so we had to keep riding. Again, we ascended a switch backed road to get out of the river valley.
Once at the top and traversing along the slope down to the river, at 2100 I got a flat tyre. This was repaired. You would not believe it, at about 2130 cal got his first flat tyre for the trip.
This was repaired. We needed a campsite pretty soon though we already talking about riding in the dark.
We stopped to fill the bladder with water, to allow us to camp anywhere.
We were riding slowly looking for gates or fences down. The latter was spotted. We managed to straddle the fence and get the bikes down to what was a hole in the ground from excavation.
This was needed to get out of the wind. It was actually a great campsite, river or no river.
We finished eating at 2330 and retired to the tent both of us were asleep in a ridiculously short time.
It had been one of those totally unexpected days. We were only 9km from Cochrane.
We were so relieved to have put that big range behind us. Tomorrow would be an easy ride to town after 6 nights in the tent.
They were a fun filled 6 days with Alex, in country that ranged from high rainfall to rather dryish terrain.
26/12/2013 To Cochrane.
D10, T 44min, Av13, Max46, Tot 23686, 13,890
Cool and overcast
We had a great nights sleep after a huge meal last night. The campsite sufficed to keep us out of the wind. We were surrounded by Rosehip plants and other spiny vegetation.
It was a short climb to Cochrane, we stopped fpr a fish in a river with trout written all over it. Slow flowing a clear green and good cover.
The writing was a bit obvious, the trout probably knew what every lure looked like, being this close to the road.
Arriving in Cochrane we booked a cabaña to treat ourselves.
These are like self contained small dwellings. Here we got the fire going and washed clothing, spent a fortune at the local supermercado.
Don’t buy Bencina here another small ferretería in the west part of town had 2 litres cheaper than the price of 1 at the main general store.
We roasted a heap of chicken and relaxed in the cosy little pad for the night and watched a bit of tele.
I over ate, having been in the tent for 6 days. Little things like hot water on tap and different food are so luxurious. Ice cream is always a favourite in towns.
We briefly caught up with Alex who was camping in town. There are cyclists everywhere.
For me it is very important to keep my blog up to date on the road each evening or at least in the morning whilst I have battery power.
This allows the small details to be documented. Though like everything sometimes I don’t feel like writing. Then other times it just flows.
Trying to document events of a few days ago can be difficult and lack spontaneity.
 Frosty morning on the Rio Blanco
 Cerro Castillo
 Alex and Cal near Laguna Verde
 Many hands make some places more accessible
 The "Carretera Austral"!!! Patagonia!!
 Drying our gear over lunch at Puerto Murta.
 Excellent campsite, Rio Engaño
 Laguna General Carrera
 The best camp we could find for Christmas eve, not so good
 Birth place of the Rio Baker
 A quick fish near Cochrane
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 Heading through the and on up the range
 The American light weight guys, 100+km/day
 A great bush camp
 Camping Laguna Verde
 Valle del Rio Murta
 The Harrison Ford bridge Puerto Murta
 Tons of room in the Tarra
 Laguna General Carrera
 Hasta luego Alex, bien viaje!
 Camping above the Baker before arriving in Cochrane
 Lovely colours
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Those trying to save Patagonia.
"Our beautiful wild Patagonia ¿who would do this? Hydroaysén would do it
Patagonia ¡without dams!"
This lovely place is changing fast.
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