South America

Carretera Austral, Part 2: Losing Pavement, Gaining Scenery

February 6, 2016

The Carretera Austral is slowly being paved. From the ferry landing at Caleta Gonzalo to Puyuhuapi, the road shifts back and forth between gravel, pavement, and construction. Often, it’s 20 miles of pavement, followed by 20 miles of gravel. Rinse, Repeat. 

Much of the Carretera looks like this.

 

But there’s this one wide spot in the road…why? It’s the runway. Yep. The highway IS the runway.

 

Scenery just keeps getting more spectacular. Paved section.

At Puyuhuapi I looked for a campground that I had intended to stop at, but it apparently no longer exists. So I decided to continue south of town and see what else turned up. Not far out of town on the lake was a sign that said “Camping Toninas”. It didn’t look like much but I decided to give it a try. It was mid-afternoon and spots were still available. I pitched my tent and decided to do some maintenance on the bike. 

Coming into Puyuhuapi.

 

Campground on the lake.

A couple of hours later I noticed two BMWs pulling in. It was Daniel and Joey from open-explorers.com. I had last seen them in Cuenca, Ecuador. I invited them to share my campsite, and Joey cooked dinner. It was nice to eat from a plate rather than a mug. There are definitely advantages to two people traveling on large bikes with large panniers. Joey has a full kitchen setup with a nice selection of spices. Sure beats my pasta-in-a-mug dinners. 

Sharing my campsite with Joey and Daniel. Thanks Joey for the great meal!

The campground filled up and was less than great, with limited facilities considering the number of campers. But it served the purpose, and I got to visit with Daniel and Joey again. 

Carretera Austral, Part 4: Puerto Rio Tranquilo and the Capilla de Marmol

February 8, 2016

Puerto Rio Tranquilo is a spot on the road. There isn’t much here, but this time of year the population swells dramatically as bicyclists, motorcyclists, backpackers, and families in cars pour into town, mostly to see the Capilla de Marmol, or Marble Chapel.

The town of Puerto Rio Tranquilo. The whole town.

The lake here is large and beautiful, the color hard to describe and changing constantly under sun and clouds.

 

 

It’s a short boat ride to the Capilla de Marmol

 

 

Yep. Crazy. They drive the boats right into these caves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is a photo of the wall of the marble. That’s not a reflection: it’s the marble striations continuing below the water. Impressive.

 

The actual Marble Chapel.

I stayed in Puerto Rio Tranquilo two nights. On the second evening, two women pulled into the campground: a German on a BMW F800 and a French woman on a DR650 Suzuki with Chile plates. As they set up camp I introduced myself. It didn’t take long to figure out that the woman on the BMW, Ira (who also goes by Diana, because Ira is about as common as Pat in South America and nobody can understand it), was the same woman that Judith had ridden with through Cañon del Pato in Peru. She had since met up with Celine, who arrived in Santiago with absolutely zero motorcycle experience, and after four hours of instruction bought a DR650 and hit the road. Wow.

My campsite overlooking the lake. There were some sites with better views further down, but much more wind as well.

 

Poor photo taken well after dark. Ira (Diana) and Celine invited me for dinner. Two meals in a week not in a mug! Woo Hoo!

The next morning I left for a short ride to Cochrane and more stunning scenery.

 

This will be as far south on the Carretera Austral as I go. While it’s possible to continue all the way to Villa O’Higgins, there are no more rideable passes to Argentina below here. Tomorrow morning I plan to head back toward Argentina via Paso Roballos. Depending on availability, I hope to camp at Kris Tompkins’ newest park before crossing into Argentina.

As of now, I still need to make it another 1100 miles on these tires to Punta Arenas, where I hope to find new rubber. The front tire is beginning to wear in a scallop fashion, which makes the gravel even more tricky. The rear is just wearing down, but I think (fingers crossed) it will last until Punta Arenas. The chain and sprockets are another story, and could become a problem somewhere between here and Buenos Aires. But I’ll worry about that when the time comes. For now all I can do is keep adjusting and lubricating the chain, and trying to take it easy on them, which is difficult with nothing but gravel, dust and ripio.

Cochrane, Chile to Gobernador Gregores, Argentina: A Good News/Bad News Day

February 11, 2016

Bad News: I discovered this morning that my rear rack is broken completely through in two places where it meets the left pannier rack. The ripio (badly corrugated roads) along with the heavy weight I have on the rear of the bike has finally started to take its’ toll.

Good News: I’m in Cochrane, and there’s a welding shop here.

Bad News: The welding shop is closed. The guy is out of town until next week.

Good News: There’s a hardware store here, so I bought a few hose clamps, and used one of my tire irons, the hose clamps and some zip ties as a brace until I can find a welder. 

Bad News: It’s another 120 miles of ripio across Paso Roballos today, and in the process my front fender pouch manages to fly off somewhere before the border crossing. Of course I didn’t see it. So I lost a spare inner tube, my other tire iron, and a few CO2 cartridges I was keeping as a backup inflation method (my compressor works fine so far).

From my campsite in the National Park outside of Cochrane.

 

Heading towards Parque Patagonia on X-83, just north of Cochrane. The road here is relatively smooth and nice.

 

Lots of these guys running across the road. Also ostriches at one point.

 

Valle Chacabuco

 

I’d like to thank Dr. Michael Bell, DDS in Austin, Texas, and Dr. Stuart Anderson, DDS, in Corona, CA. Both of these guys are clearly excellent dentists, as none of my fillings fell out over the 100 miles of hellish corrugated road. The scenery was a nice distraction also.

 

Parque Patagonia headquarters. This is where Doug and Kris Tompkins spent their time. I didn’t ask if it was Doug’s plane out front, but that’s my guess.

Good News: I still have one tire tool, clamped to my rear rack. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve changed a tire with one tire tool, and luckily these tires are fairly easy to change. 

Bad News: My phone seems to have also suffered today, though I don’t think the ripio is that bad in my tank bag, since the package of cookies next to the phone was fine. Not sure what’s up with the phone, but it definitely topped off today’s cascade of fiasco. It won’t power up or charge. It’s a brick at this point.

Good News: Ever since I bought a Garmin Montana in December, the old Zumo has behaved itself and worked fine, even on the ripio. I definitely don’t need to be carrying two GPS units (although my phone was my backup, and it’s now dead, along with several apps I’ve been relying on), but as soon as I get rid of one GPS, I’ll wish I had it.

Another “road goes on forever” photo. Ruta 40 north of Gobernador Gregores, just before the rain started. This was the first pavement in many days, and also the beginning of the brutal crosswinds that will just get worse further south. Anything over about 45 mph was scary. It’s amazing how much guardrails change wind direction. After a while you learn to prepare for the beginning and end of the guardrails by leaning less and more.

Bad News: Twenty miles out of Gobernador Gregores, it starts to rain, and my fuel system woes start to appear about the same time. I just barely limp into Gregores in the rain before dark.

Good News: The nicest guy I’ve met in Argentina is a welder in Gobernador Gregores.  It ain’t pretty, but in 20 minutes and for $4 my rack is back in one piece, for now at least (would have been faster, but he’s a funny guy and we were enjoying joking with each other, even though he doesn’t speak a word of English and my Spanish is pretty poor). I also managed to clean my fuel pump/filter/injector again this morning. My fingers turned black pressing on the filter screen…not a good sign. I wish it was a detachable/replaceable filter, but like many fuel injected bikes, the filter is in the fuel tank before the pickup for the fuel pump. Thus it’s integral to the pump, which I think is about $350 retail. Ouch. I’ll keep cleaning it as long as possible.

Bajo Caracoles, Argentina. Notice the pumps: completely covered in travelers’ stickers. That’s what I noticed at the time. About fifty miles later is when I noticed how badly my bike was running.

Bad News: My front tire is definitely beginning to look “iffy”. Still just under 800 miles to Punta Arenas. Fingers crossed.

Good News: As my Spanish teacher in Guatemala likes to say: “Es La Vida”. I always liked his attitude.

Gobernador Gregores to El Chalten

February 13, 2016

As I ride along the 40 miles of unpaved Ruta 40 between Gobernador Gregores and Tres Lagos, I imagine a conversation between the Ruta 40 construction supervisor and his road crew, discussing this section of road:

Supervisor: “Ok guys, we’ve only got about 4 billion truckloads of gravel left, so we have to decide where best to use it. Here are my recommendations: First, if the road is straight and the wind is blowing straight down the road, don’t bother to put gravel down. It will be too easy for the motorcycles to get through. However, if the road curves sharply, or in any area where the wind is blowing hard at sharp angles to the road, be sure there is a deep layer of gravel. And if you can find a few big rocks to put in the road, use them too. You will also need to smooth the gravel out every few days in order to prevent the cars from making tracks that the motorcycles can follow more easily. Don’t fix the road; just make the gravel depths inconsistent.”

“Next, we want to be sure the motorcycles have to ride in the deep gravel, so we have to prevent them from getting off the gravel and onto the old road that runs right next to the new deep gravel. This old road is in great shape, and it would be very easy for motorcycles to operate on it, so build a large rock barrier between the old, good road, and the new, deep gravel road. If you can’t find enough large rocks to build a barrier, dig a deep trench between the two roads.”

I took this photo after crossing through the trench and climbing over a low portion of the rock wall, thereby gaining access to the “old road” which was in much better shape. The “new road” (deep gravel) is on the other side of the rock wall on the left.

“Last, we have separated the gravel by color. Be sure to use the gravel that best matches the dirt color so that it will be more difficult for the motorcyclists to tell where the deep gravel begins. Also, when possible, after a long distance of deep gravel, be sure to use a section of gravel that appears to be pavement from a distance in order to give the motorcyclists false hope.”

It only takes about a minute of riding in this gravel with a 40mph crosswind to realize that you have to make tiny corrections, and if you want to change “lanes” to a different car tire rut, you need to do it deliberately but cautiously. More than once, I went to change to a different rut, and the wind and gravel carried me all the way across the road to the opposite side before I could re-correct. My front wheel just kept pushing gravel regardless of what direction it was pointed. There is a point somewhere between about 9mph and about 40mph that works well, but you are at the mercy of what the wind and the gravel are going to do. The paved sections aren’t a problem with the wind, as long as you remain aware of the turbulence caused by the guardrails and various “hills” next to the road. 

The last 60 miles into El Chalten are good pavement and straight into the wind. 

Hmmm, how bad do I need gas? Not THAT bad!

 

Lake Viedma, on the way into El Chalten

 

Nearing the entrance to El Chalten. Note the clouds obscuring the mountains in the background. This would soon turn to rain.

As I pull into El Chalten, a small town that looks and feels a bit like Crested Butte, Colorado, I see Daniel and Joey’s BMWs parked on the main street. I stop and look around but can’t find them. It’s beginning to rain, so I decide to head for the campground. On the way out of town, I pass Thomas and Yazmin’s rental camper van on the other side of the street. 

The last six miles northwest of town is unpaved, and the rain continues, turning the road to puddles and mud. When I finally arrive at the campground, I decide to keep my camping gear dry, and rent a dome that has a kingsize bed inside. It’s cold, but comfortable. 

Dome Sweet Dome

 

Campground pets

Morning dawns clear and sunny. The road has begun to dry, and as I leave town, I glance back at the incredible Mt Fitzroy and Cerro Torre.

Cerro Torre and FitzRoy. Note the clouds that appear to be coming from Mt. FitzRoy. “El Chalten” literally means “smoking mountain”. Apparently the early settlers here mistook the clouds for smoke, and thought FitzRoy was a volcano.

 

El Chalten has become one of the great trekking destinations of the world. But with my ankle still swollen and bruised from my Bolivia crash, I’m in no condition to hike. So I will have to take a rain check on the trek and plan to return another time. Onward towards El Calafate and the bottom half of the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares.

El Chalten to El Calafate: Perito Moreno Glacier

February 14, 2016

The ride from El Chalten to El Calafate is all paved, and relatively short at around 130 miles. The Perito Moreno glacier is another 50 miles west of El Calafate, so add another 100 miles round trip to the glacier and back to the hotel in El Calafate. Still a fairly easy day.

There are two parts to the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares: the Northern part of the park includes El Chalten and Mt. Fitzroy, as well as the Glaciar Viedma on Lago Viedma. This glacier is over a mile wide at the point where it enters the lake.

The Southern part of Los Glaciares includes the Perito Moreno Glacier, on Lago Argentina. This glacier is three miles wide and stands 240 feet tall where it enters the lake, and is 19 miles long overall. Both of these glaciers are part of the Southern Patagonia Ice Field, the third largest supply of fresh water in the world. Perito Moreno is one of only three Patgonian glaciers that is actually “stable” or growing and not receding.

Perito Moreno Glacier

 

 

 

 

Every 10 minutes or so you hear a loud “crack” and then a canon-like sound. The canon is the chunk of calved ice hitting the water. It’s hard to get a handle on the size of these things: some of the chunks I watched break off and hit the water were larger than an 18-wheeler.

 

 

This area is one of Argentina’s premier tourist destinations, and it’s high season here. This is killing my budget, but thankfully I spent a number of nights in the tent up til now. Most places are fully booked, but I was able to find a hotel in El Calafate for $70 a night. There is also a huge music festival going on in town this week and next, and there’s no need to buy a ticket because my room is close enough to the stage that it might as well be on it.

I stumbled on Daniel and Josephine again yesterday as I was returning from the glacier, and we ended up meeting for dinner last night. As Daniel said, we are approaching the “bottleneck” of adventure tourists headed for Ushuaia at the peak season, so I’m sure I’ll run across them as well as others as I continue south.

Today is a “down day” as I do a little maintenance and shop for a new phone (not sure I’ll buy one but will look anyway; they aren’t cheap here. But then I don’t really need a phone anyway…it’s the apps I miss. Perhaps I can substitute my iPad for a while….Hmmm. Will have to explore that idea.

The tires look like they might make it to Punta Arenas after all, so will continue to keep an eye on them (especially the front, which is wearing very oddly), and cautiously do the last 350 miles to the bottom of the world.

On to Puerto Natales tomorrow.

Gauchito Gil

February 16, 2016

Sandy had posted a question in the last couple of days asking if I had seen any of these red roadside memorials in Argentina.

 

The answer is Yes, they are everywhere. They usually have a large number of red flags posted on and around them. I had no idea what the significance of them was, until Sandy asked about them, so I asked her to research it. Here’s some more information on the story (and legend) of Gauchito Gil.

 

 

 

 

 

Many of these memorials also have a large number of water in bottles, as well as other beverages, placed in offering to Gauchito Gil.

I’m sure there’s more to the whole story yet, but it seems Argentines enjoy celebrating this defacto saint.

 

One Photo Pretty Much Says It All…

February 16, 2016

Yes, that is snow. Big flakes. Paso Dorotea border crossing, just before Puerto Natales, Chile, Tuesday, Feb 16 (middle of summer in the Southern Hemisphere).

Punta Arenas! Phew….Made it! Then…Oops.

February 18, 2016

Arriving in Puerto Natales in the rain, snow and wind, I made a difficult decision to skip a highlight of this area: Torres del Paine National Park. It’s supposed to be beautiful. And I’m sure it is. When it’s dry, or warm enough to enjoy. Unfortunately, with the very strong winds, rain, and snow (and COLD), it wasn’t my time. Puerto Natales was completely booked full. I finally found a small backpackers’ hostel with one available bed in a 9×9 foot room with seven other people. I was numb, and my fingers were beginning to feel like frostbite, even with the winter gloves and the heated grips, so I took it.

The next morning the sun was out but the wind was already blowing hard and it was still in the upper 30s as I headed towards Punta Arenas. My front tire was to the point that I was stopping every ten to fifteen miles to inspect it, looking for any signs that the tire was beginning to fail. The two side-by-side knobs in the center had worn smooth with the carcass of the tire.

I stopped about halfway to Punta Arenas in Tehuelche for a cup of coffee to warm up. Very nice lady in a cafe and I was her only customer. About thirty minutes later a bus pulls up, full of Greek tourists. As usual, they were curious about the crazy Texan on the small motorcycle.

We talked briefly, wished each other “Buen Viaje” and we all took off for Punta Arenas.

I eventually made it, with my tire still intact. Once again, the town was fully booked, but I found a campground just north of the airport. I am completely baffled as to why this campground was totally vacant. Yes, there was some trash there, but not terrible, and not everywhere. I chose a spot away from the trash, with decent wind protection, and set up camp.

Easy to figure out which direction the wind blows here: look at the trees. Then park the motorcycle facing directly into the wind so it hopefully stays upright, and set up the tent so the doors are not facing the wind. And use ALL of the tent stakes.

 

Notice that the picnic tables only have benches on the upwind side. Nobody wants their food blown into them while eating.

 

All of the shelters face the same direction, for obvious reason.

In the morning, I climbed out of my tent and looked around. I was still the only person in the campground. Odd. But enjoyable. Definitely no complaints from this hermit.

I headed into town to get new tires. Unfortunately, a bit of searching the day before revealed that tire choices were much more limited than I had hoped here. The Yamaha dealer had nothing but true MX tires; not road worthy. The Honda dealer had one Pirelli MT90 front and no rears. The main guy in town, Alejandro Lagos, is fairly well known in the adventure touring world, and I went there first. He also had no Pirellis; he mainly deals in Heidenau tires for the big BMWs. But he had a couple of Heidenau tires that would fit my bike: a K60 rear (good) and a K76 front (not as good…more of a street tire than off-road). At this point, I couldn’t be too picky. I needed to get to Buenos Aires, and the last of the gravel was between here and Ushuaia (I think). So I agreed to those tires.

My bike went onto the lift and into the air…

Bike up on the lift, rear tire done, front tire being changed. Photo taken just before disaster struck.

I was sitting on a bench just to the right of where this photo was taken. Suddenly I heard a loud crash. When I looked toward the bike, my mind had trouble processing what I saw. My bike was completely upside down, wheels in the air, license plate upside down. Adrenaline kicked in and I ran over to help (in hindsight I wish I had taken the time to pull the camera out of my pocket and take a photo). The bike was still strapped to the lift, and the lift was on its’ side next to the bike. It eventually took three of us to lift the bike enough to get the pannier out from under the lift so we could lower the lift and then lift the bike back up onto the worklift. My GPS was gone; it had made first contact with the concrete, along with the mirrors, the right side of which also exploded on impact. Brake fluid was leaking onto other components from the front master cylinder (that happens when a normally highest-point vent becomes the lowest location on a master cylinder). The right handguard was bent, the exhaust shield was dented, my Garmin gps dock was in two pieces. Things were basically a mess. But of course, it could have been worse, and I kept telling Alejandro that: he could have been under it when it fell. It could have been a $20,000 BMW covered in brittle plastic. Nothing broken was preventing me from continuing my trip. He was very apologetic and clearly felt terrible. I suppose I should have been more upset, but a lot of things have changed since I began this trip. It’s just a bike. It’s mechanical. It can all be fixed. And of course, I’m about as low-maintenance as they come. He definitely got lucky in many ways.

I pulled out the new Garmin Montana that I have been carrying since January, and installed it. Alejandro looked for a replacement mirror, but had nothing with reverse threads (a Yamaha thing). He offered to order a new mirror for me from Santiago, but that would take days and I wouldn’t be here. I still had a left mirror. I could still ride.

I did eventually get a discount on my tire change…probably not as much as I should have considering the expense of the gps dock, but what’s done is done.

After my morning excitement, I decided it was a good day for a day off. I rode out to my lodging for the night…a beautiful place in the woods north of town run by an incredibly nice couple and his mother (of course they are nice…they are Chilean).

Tomorrow I hope to do some sightseeing and relax a bit more before my last two days of venturing south.

Tips for Navigating Central and South America

February 18, 2016

About a year and a half ago, I rode my Super Tenere from Texas to Canada and back. Along the way, I met up with my friend Tom and we rode together for a while, going our separate ways in Montana and meeting up again on the way back down in Utah. On that trip, I had a GPS failure, and an aftermarket electronic item I had installed on the bike also failed. We joked at the time that the ideal setup would be “paper maps and an air-cooled 650” for simplicity. Little did I realize then that I would be taking an air-cooled 250 on this journey. And while I carry a few paper maps with me, I still rely on my GPS for a lot of my navigation.

For those following along that might be considering a similar trip, I thought I’d offer some insights into navigation that I’ve gained over the last several months, as well as some other small things I learned along the way.

GPS and Nav

First, if you are truly hard-core, old-school and savor the journey via paper maps, more power to you. It’s still probably the best and most satisfying way to go. On the other hand, if you’ve come to rely on turn-by-turn GPS instructions, you’re probably going to be frustrated and surprised in Central and South America. Somewhere in between is a good solution, and I’ve come to rely on a combination of technology to get me where I want to go rather than where Garmin thinks I should go.

If you use a Garmin GPS device, you may or may not have noticed that there is a lack of maps available for some parts of the world, including down here. Much of that gap has been filled by Open Source Street Maps (OSM). For free. Type a little information into a website, and within a short time, you have a custom file you can download and install on your GPS. This is certainly better than nothing, and works relatively well, but also has a number of failings. For example, it doesn’t even recognize cities the size of El Calafate or El Chalten in the list of cities. It also won’t always route you in the best manner, regardless of whether you have “avoid dirt roads” or “avoid tolls” or whatever switched on or off. Therefore, a little extra work is required.

In addition to the OSM maps installed on my Garmin, I use a combination of Google Maps and an app called Maps.me. Google Maps allows me to look at the bigger picture, zoom in or out and determine whether the road is paved or dirt, and gather wayoints along my route to force the GPS to take the route I want. In addition, maps.me has more detail, better off-road routing capabilities, and lists many more campgrounds and other facilities than the Garmin and OSM maps. It’s possible to download the maps from maps.me one country at a time so you don’t need wifi to use them.

I also use an app/website called iOverlander.com to find campsites and hotels that have secure bike parking.

ATMs

For the most part, ATMs are plentiful and work well throughout Mexico, Central and South America, and are the easiest way to get money these days. Certain banks and credit card companies are better than others about not charging international transaction fees. I will leave that research up to you. I had no problem getting money from ATMs all the way until Chile and Argentina. These two countries dealt me two different problems, one (Chile) easy and one (Argentina) I still haven’t figured out.

In Chile, nearly all ATMs, regardless of which bank you are at, are operated under the Redbank name. Just like in the US, you insert your card and enter your PIN, and then are given a variety of choices, including “Balance Inquiry”, “Deposit”, “Withdrawal from Checking”, “Withdrawal from Savings”, “Withdrawal from Credit Card”, etc (in Spanish of course). If you’re like me, you already have this routine down: insert card, enter PIN, select “Withdrawal from Checking”, select or enter amount, take cash, take card, take receipt, go. However, if you do this in Chile, you will inevitably get a “Transaction Denied” response and no money.

Here’s the tip: At the Menu Selection screen, typically in the lower left corner, is a selection that says “Extranjero”. Which means “Foreigner”. You have to select this first, then it will take you to a new screen and you can select from where and how much.

Argentina is a totally different situation. Nearly every time I approached an Argentine ATM, the first time I inserted my card and selected a withdrawal amount of 1000 pesos (about USD$70), I got a message that said I had exceeded my daily limit. Each time after that if I selected a lesser amount (preset selections on the screen include 700, 500, 400, 300 pesos), I got a message that said I had “entered an invalid amount. Try again”. Of course, I hadn’t entered an amount; I had simply selected one of the choices presented to me. But I never did get any money. And I wasn’t alone. I watched tourists from the U.S., Germany, and Australia achieve the same result and leave frustrated and without cash in several cities.

Adding to this is the fact that there are no money-changers or Casa de Cambio places at any of the Chile-Argentina border crossings where I crossed, and no towns nearby. Which makes it even more important that you have Argentine pesos  before crossing the border. As one follower mentioned previously, it is possible to exchange money at some stores, even at some gas stations. Example: in Gobernador Gregores, the bank refused to change my Chilean pesos for Argentine pesos, and sent me to the supermarket. The supermarket told me I could buy groceries with Chilean pesos but they would not exchange them outright. Eventually, the service station was the only place in town that would exchange them, and then at a horrible rate.

Camp Stoves

I carry a gas canister (iso-butane-propane) cook stove with me. In researching this trip, I read a lot of information on the internet that said not to use this type of stove, because gas canisters were not available in South America. Which is absolutely untrue. I saw canisters for sale in Cartagena, Quito, Lima, Mendoza, El Calafate, Punta Arenas and many other places, typically under the Doite brand name. Nearly every large city or tourist-based small town had an outdoor or camping store that sold Doite canisters. I must admit I didn’t buy one or use one, as I began my trip with two canisters from REI in the U.S. and these have lasted me this far. If you are traveling two-up or camp/cook more than I did, you may need more fuel. But it is readily available with just a little planning. It remains to be seen if I can find canisters in Africa, but I will find out next month in Cape Town.

Parque Pingüino Rey

February 20, 2016

I left Punta Arenas on the 1pm ferry to Porvenir and Tierra del Fuego. While waiting on the ferry, the weather constantly danced between light drizzle and sunshine. The wind was ever-present of course, but not terrible, at probably 20 to 25 mph. 

Mauricio and Mama at Casa La Escondida. This was a superb place to stay just slightly outside of Punta Arenas, and a big part of the reason was the hospitality, although the accommodation and food was excellent as well.

 

While waiting in line at the ferry dock, I met this couple from israel traveling Patagonia in a rented Wicked camper van (same type van as the Austrian couple I met earlier). They’re just getting started on their camping journey, and I’m pretty sure I’ll see them again in Ushuaia.

The ferry ride is about two hours. As soon as I rode off the ferry and into Porvenir it began raining, sleeting, and the winds suddenly increased to about 50 mph. I set off out of town only to find that the pavement immediately stopped. It was mostly gravel, but in a few places there was no gravel, and it turned to slick, snotty mud. I slipped and slid and managed not to crash somehow but my tires balled up with mud so bad that the bike wouldn’t steer at all. Eventually the rain let up, the wind increased even more, and the mud came off my tires in the gravel and rock road.

I stopped at a place on the side of the road with some big trees thinking it would offer some wind break, but the trees were too far apart. As I stood there, I dropped one of my gloves. The wind caught it and it took off faster than I could run with my bad ankle. After about a hundred yards I managed to catch it just before it blew under the fence and out to sea. My physical therapy for the day complete, I remounted and continued toward the Penguin Park.

My GPS coordinates were for a place I found on iOverlander that just said “grassy spot” and was about a mile past the penguin park. I was hoping there would be a hill or dune or something to hide behind with my tent. When I got to the penguin park there was a guy on a loaded motorcycle there so I pulled up next to him, noticing the German license plate. Ernest was on a beautiful late ’80s BMW R100GS, and had just finished the tour of the penguins. He said the park ranger told him he could sleep in a small “house” up the road and I was welcome to join him. The park was closing soon, and I had planned to visit the King penguins in the morning, so I followed Ernest up the road.

When we got there, it was a tiny building about 7 feet wide by 10 feet long in the middle of the grassy field I was planning to camp in. Inside the building was a metal bunk bed frame (no mattresses), a table, and a stove made out of a cut-down 55 gallon drum. 

We started a fire in the stove, put the air mattresses and sleeping bags on the bunks, and Ernest cooked dinner. It was actually pretty comfortable. Just before dark another couple showed up: a German brother and sister hitchhiking/backpacking to Ushuaia from Punta Arenas. They set up their tent on the less windy side of the building and slept there. 

Nothing for many, many miles to block the wind. Except this great little hut with a stove, table and beds in it. It’s actually for the sheep herders here, but they let others use it when they aren’t. And the employees at the Penguin Park show their appreciation by keeping it clean. If you could see the bikes better, you’d see that Ernest’s BMW is spotless, while mine is covered in mud. He left Porvenir before the rains.

Ernest cooking dinner in the nice, warm hut. Cut-down 55 gallon drum wood-burning stove in the bottom right corner of photo.

The wind finally dropped to probably 30 mph or so this morning. The King Penguin Park doesn’t officially open until 11am, but when I rode up around 9:30, the ranger was very friendly and invited me in early. I spent about an hour walking around watching the penguins. The size and color of these guys is amazing. I wished I had binoculars. In the photos, if you look closely, you can see several young penguins, who aren’t old enough to have the orange markings yet.

After visiting the penguins it was another 30 miles or so of gravel road to the border crossing into the Argentine side of Tierra del Fuego. 

The ghost town of Onaisin. This looked like the school or community center.

 

The entire remains of the town were fairly intact but fenced off. The town was established by English sheep herders in the 1890s, but apparently didn’t last. It sits on the shore of Bahia Inutil (Useless Bay).

 

You see a number of abandoned wrecked cars sitting where they met their demise on the side of the road. This one says “Better Cycling” on the side of it.

As I finished up my paperwork and was just leaving the border crossing, Ian rode up. He’s been to Ushuaia and is on his way to Buenos Aires to ship home. 

It was good to see Ian again. He’s headed to Buenos Aires and home. I hope to see him again in a few months.

The pavement begins with Argentina Ruta 3 at the border crossing, and it’s a smooth, beautiful road all the way to my hosteria tonight in Tolhuin. I’m only sixty miles from Ushuaia, but this hotel on the shore of Lago Fagnano was just too nice and relaxing not to stop at for a night. 

South of Rio Grande on the Atlantic coast: When the tide goes out here, it REALLY goes out. Like about a quarter of a mile.

 

My hotel for the night, overlooking the lake.