Happy 2012!! Two Thousand and Twelve. Wow. We hope you all enjoyed bringing in the New Year in your own special ways.
Here is our updated map of our location. As usual, ignore the incorrect numbers in the top-right hand corner.
Entries below chronicle our travels from December 25th, 2011 to January 1st, 2012 as we made our way from El Chalten, Argentina to Puerto Natales, Chile.
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Christmas Sunshine
We set out the day after Christmas with a gentle tailwind on asphalt roads, a great combination after 500 of dirt roads in Chile. However, after 90 km the road turned and we immediately slowed from 30 to 8km/hr! We yo-yoed a bit with a cyclist from Latvia who was here for 2.5 weeks and doing some longer days, so when we decided to stop at La Leona Hotel, he continued on with a wave.
We were the only customers in the small historical site and their were so many baked goods, that we couldnt help but eat a baked apple crisp as we attempted to chat with the family on wifi. It was quite ironic that this small estancia (ranch) had better wifi than the whole town of Chalten. La Leona is quite the historical site, as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid took residency for a month here after robbing a nearby bank.
We spent the following hours cooking out front (our stove had a major failure and we spent over an hour tinkering with it to get it to light again). In the later evening, we chatted with the hoards of tourists whose buses made regular stops here along RT 40 between the tourist towns of El Calafate and El Chalten.
The following day we set out with the prospect of reaching El Calafate. A touristy town on the Lago Argentine, the largest single body of water in the country. After turning off RT 40 we again experienced the wrath of Patagonia winds as we slowly moved along the 32 km road to town. Just outside of town we came up on three Italian cycle tourists who had just started from the airport 17 km away. You should have seen their faces as they began their 3 week cycling trip into headwinds that blew us all over the road. Arriving in town was a relief and we went straight to the store for some salami and cheese sandwiches on fresh baked bread.
We took advantage of the grills at the campsite and bbq’d some steaks and potatoes before we turned in, exhausted from the days ride.
~Justino
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Perito Moreno Glacier
We took the afternoon bus to Perito Moreno Glacier, one of the most active glaciers of it’s size in the world. With fewer crowds and some ominous clouds we ate a picnic on the benches on the viewing walkways experiencing the beauty of the spectacular site.
The glacier is 30 km (18 miles) long and 5 km wide, and you are able to get within a stones throw of the 60 meter (180ish feet) high walls of solid ice. The amazing thing about the glacier is that the whole thing advances as much as 2 meters (6ft) per day, which calves (a glacier term: breaks off) gigantic pieces of ice.
The experience is totally surreal and meditative as you wait and anticipate the next piece to fall into the blue waters below. The sounds are as much a part of the experience as the view. Melissa and I just sat in awe, like the rest of the folks, all silent and mesmerized.
~ Justino
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Leaving El Calafate
Departing El Calafate, we again passed the Italian trio on their first official day of riding. Melissa and I chatted about what our first day was like, and how Patagonia would be a pretty tough place to begin such a trip. We climbed a few hundred meters and said goodbye to the snowy peaks in the distance as we once again found ourselves riding the barren pampas of RT 40. The temperatures were cool and fortunately the winds cooperated a bit with a beautiful tailwind and we zoomed along the pavement until we reached our turn. A 70 km piece of unpaved road that serves a short of shortcut when heading towards Puerto Natales, saving 80 kilometers or so of potential headwind road.
We filled our water bottles and set out knowing that not a lot lay in front of us and we had better find a nice campsite with shelter from wind. We made a goal to go 20 km to an estancia we saw on the map. Parts of the road were descent, and other parts were miserably loose with large stones. At one point we veered into the wind and were zigzagging all over when Melissa caught some loose gravel and within an instant she had flipped over and was lying on the ground. I managed to swerve around her and offered to help her up as she was holding her elbow. My first thought was that she may have broken her collarbone, a common injury when a cyclists crashes, but fortunately she had a textbook tuck and roll and just bruised it pretty good. We arrived at the estancia, which turned out more to be just a house with a few trees to protect it from the wind. We knocked and when nobody answered tucked behind the back wall in hopes someone would arrive and give us permission to camp. A sign above the side door noted that this was some sort of police headquarters so we presumed that we wouldn’t be chased out should someone come home soon.
While resting and reading a magazine we brought from Chalten, we were greeted by Fabian. A large broad-shouldered older fella who stuck out his big hands for a shake and immediately offered us to come in. With our dinner preparations already begun, we moved inside as he lit his stove and offered us hot water. He asked us the usual questions and told us we were eating pretty early, 6:30 at this point.
He then proceeded to show us photos and letters he has received from previous cyclists, turns out he hosts quite a few! Following our rice and lentils we heard the Italians roll up and the quite house turned into a cyclists frenzy. We enjoyed the protection from the wind and the bunk bed with his daughter’s toys lying around. Thank you Fabian for your generosity and washing our dishes after you refused to let us do it.
~Justino
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Heartbreak with Headwinds
With 50 km of tough dirt road remaining we got an early start and were riding by 6:30am. The sheep on the hillside were surprised to see us as they scrambled away to the sounds of our thin tires throwing stones on the loose riverbed. By 8:30 the wind was on full-force. We were pushing our bikes and our progress had come to a near halt.
We laughed a bit and joked about how silly this was that we were seriously going 3 km/hr. Riding was deemed impossible, and pushing was so slow. It felt like someone was throwing handfuls of sand in your face and we then started questioning if we would make it to the end of the road where another estancia was for water and relief at the end of the day. A car passed us and didn’t even stop and Melissa and I were taken aback that we are seriously in the middle of a dry and windy land, and people just drive by like we are sheep in the pasture.
The next truck that came by had the Italian woman from the Italian trio. She had taken a lift a few kilometers earlier as the fellas declined. Fortunately they did because it left a bit of extra space for us to have a lift. Our first since Lima, and as we arrived at gas station 18km later, we couldn’t have been more relieved to be off the loose stones and ridiculous windy, and smokey road. The wind was so strong that a big rig truck was blown over a ways down the road.
We had just been broken the news that Torres Del Paine, one of the most popular National Parks in all of South America, had caught fire. Irresponsible tourists disobeyed posted signs and lit a fire in a dry, old-growth area and it was now threatening lives, structures, and incredible pristine landscape. Sadly, with fierce wind and dry grasslands, the fire spread over a large portion of the park.
Unsure of whether we should head towards Puerto Natales knowing that the park was closed was a tough decision but we wanted to celebrate the New Year and not be torn with broken hearts somewhere on the side of the barren road, so we pushed on.
~Justino
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Carrera Argentina Border Post
When we arrived at another border post for Argentina, we took care of the necessary exit stamps and then asked about a safe place to cook and camp from the wind. We walked behind the building and I hollered at two guys working with their heads down in the 120km/72mph winds. I pointed to an empty garage type hut and they laughed and said it was for the horses. One of the men led us over to an old victorian style home with the windows covered with medal sheets (the glass had been busted out by wind) and there was wind howling through the walls. Some hay, grain, and saddles lay strewn about but there was plenty of space to have protection. While eating some spaghetti with a less than par canned tomato sauce one of the guys came in and offered us some water. His name was George and he was a soft spoken gentleman. He shortly returned with a 2 liter bottle, and a packet of tang. He also brought a bottle of cider and explained it was to celebrate New Years.
We did our evening routine and were just about asleep when George came back and clapped three times. He said it would be cold in the building and to come join him in the warm, insulated border patrol building that had just closed.
The border patrol staff were celebrating new year’s a day early as only three people would be on duty the next day. They invited us to join them for a classic bbq meat Argentinian dinner with them. Of course, dinner time in Argentina is somewhere between 11pm and 12am, so we worked hard to stay awake, sleepy from our windy battle, by playing great matches of ping pong and sharing stories. After a delicious meal around 11:30 (with the sun still in twilight on the horizon!), we tucked away in an office room on cozy mattresses for another protected night from the merciless wind. We love Argentinians!
~Justino
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Feliz Ano Nuevo!
We arrived in Puerto Natales on New Year’s Eve after navigating through smoke-filled valleys paralleling Torres del Paine. The wind took a day off and a cold chill settled on the land with a light rain. We cheered on the rain to help with the fire.
After visiting with a sister of a team member from Justin’s Arden Park Swim team back in Sacramento (small world!), we cuddled up in a cozy hostel to bring in the new year with fellow travelers and cider. After banging pots and dancing in the streets, we tucked into bed to get some much needed sleep after two days of staying up past midnight and riding through rough weather.
We are still overcoming our sadness of not being able to see the park. I am trying to come to terms with the fact that the park will never be the same in my lifetime. However, I must be grateful though for all the beauty I have been blessed to see on this trip. We are planning now to backpack through less explored areas at the tip of South America with our extra time.
About 700km to Ushuaia – that could be 7 days or 15 depending on the winds… I do not have the words yet to describe the state of shock I am in as I look at all the maps posted on walls here of the local area and seeing Ushuaia as one of the main attractions.
Hoping for tailwinds and sunshine,
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