Futuleufu, Chile Rafting

Bit of a flash from the recent past that has been sitting on my desktop forever until I had a connection that I could upload from - Matt Kelly, Robin, Evan, and I went rafting for the afternoon in Futuleufu. The Fu is one of the top white water rivers in the world usually making the top 3 to 5 on most people's lists.
The section we did was class 3 to 5 rapids and one helluva ride - the class 5 section was optional but after finishing up with some 4+ we were ready for more and they got an extra 15,000 pesos out of all of us.
Because we were a strong group of four cyclists we were able to spend some time playing in a class 4 wave train called the Escalator - surfing the raft burying the nose in holes etc . . . the raft nearly flipped several times. However, the rapid ended in a giant eddy so it was easy to retrieve the ejected then ride the eddy back to the top of the wave train!
The water was clear as glass and clean enough to drink - good thing because you end up drinking quite a bit.
Things got a little exciting towards the end on the last run of class 5 rapids. The guide emphatically said, "don't swim here," because it is dangerous. So, Evan got ejected bucking over the top of a monster wave but stayed close enough to the raft for Robin to extend a paddle while I hauled him into the raft.
Also, very scenic with the occasional break to look around. Overall a fantastic day with amazing guides from all over the world, South Africa - United States - Peru. Thanks to Evan and Robin for talking Matt and I into joining them . . . not that is was all that hard to do.

Onto the Pampas

El Chalten was a great rest stop after finishing up the Austral Highway - good place to hang out, eat all you can eat pizza, hike a little, gaze at Mt FitzRoy, and play some poker - pasta served as chips tortellini was worth 500, spaghetti 1000 . . . Evan as a former casino dealer and serious poker player kept everything in order.
Condor de los Andes was a wonderfully tolerant with our large group of rowdy cyclists numbering upwards of 10 at times. Evan bequeathed his travel guitar to Ti, known to us as Natalie Portman, when we were on our way out the door at 3:30 in the afternoon towards Calafate 220km away.
We raged out of town with a strong tailwind that pushed us down the road at 40kph onto the pampas with not a tree in sight. Passing along Lago Viedma we could see the Viedma Glacier coming down to the water in the distance.
I had a combination of mechanical issues - the simplest was replacing my rear derailleur cable but my rear hub sounded like a box of rocks so I had to spin a little easy hoping my hub did not seize up and leave me beside the road.
Passing storms produced a continual series of rainbows as we moved down the road.
Lots of wildlife on the pampas mostly Guanacos (camelid), Rheas (like a small Ostrich), and hares.
In our first 2 hours of riding we covered over 75km of riding and we stopped at about 100+ km. I stayed at a small hotel with Doug and Janice in order to use Doug's freewheel remover and enjoy their excellent company. My bearings were square and the drive side cone had disintegrated into metal chunks - the horrid grinding sound that prompted my stop was my bearings sliding around the race . . . not rolling. I removed the large pieces of scrap iron, popped in some new bearings, whatever that was worth, and kept the hub loose.
Those funny Argentinians - a common sign defacement.
Day two was a little tortuous listening to my hub grind away, wheel wobbling, rear disc rubbing for 120km. After 70km our destination and my hope for hub salvation, Calafate, came into view on the other side of Lago Argentino but it would be a hard 30+km grind into a stiff headwind after rounding the end of the lake. However, Evan and I shared the load drafting each other with 2-3 minute pulls.
I was able to get a new 8 speed disc hub laced onto my old rim for less than $75 at Calafate's only bike shop and will be rolling to the end in style for the next week.

The Bum Dawgs . . .

The name was Evan's idea and received a derisive reception. Robin favored "Robin and his Merry Men" - too long. Matt is his enthusiasm for the Spanish language wanted a literal translation of "bum dogs" but that makes us sound like dog's asses . . . Then Robin said it in his best gangster Scottish, and it stuck. So on our last full day together the Bum Dawgs rented a car to go see the Perito Moreno Glacier and perhaps fish. Lucky for us the glacier is only 70km away so our crack of 2pm start, after seeing the sunrise before going to bed, was not an issue. Besides the novelty of effortlessly cruising into a headwind at 70kph we saved a bundle of money on transportation.I admit to be a little jaded about seeing yet another glacier - been there done that, climbed them but I was wanted to hit Lago Roca to go fishing on the way back so I was down. I have seen a few sublime natural wonders - the Cordillera Blanca in Peru, the Grand Canyon, Iguassu Falls, the Northern Lights, and now I can say Perito Moreno Glacier. Driving into the park we rounded a bend and all of us said wow! After traveling for well over a year you tend to fancy yourself as something other than a tourist but all of us fell into snap happy tourist mode taking individual photos in front of the glacier then group shots. The series of walkways crisscrossing the cypress forested hillside facing the glacier offered perfect views. Tourists were strangely subdued watching the creeping immensity of the glacier watching without speaking.The glacier is 5km across with an average height of 74 meters high where it meets the waters of Lago Argentino and a total depth of 170 meters - the tour boats on the water offer a little perspective. Perito Moreno is one of the few glaciers in the world that is growing as well as being the third largest reserve of fresh water in the world.Driving out of the park I took a little cat nap in the back seat while we headed for Lago Roca on a rough dirt road for 30km - so nice to be driving over washboard versus pedaling! We piled out at the lake in a spot that looked good for fishing . . . the wind was wailing, it was cold, an not a soul in sight. Perfect fishing weather but we hesitated on the bluff commenting on the chilly wind - then I went to the trunk for my rod. We scrambled off the bluff to the shores of Lago Roca to stand on a small point on the beach. Theoretically the wind should be driving bait fish down the lake where they should gather around the point . . . within 10 minutes Matt had a fish on and lost it. His second tease of the day but that is another story. I walked down the beach to get a wind break for casting when I heard Matt and Evan hooting and hollering. Matt landed a nice 32 inch Lake Trout - dinner! We continued fishing until sunset but Matt was the only one of us to land a fish . . . Robin wandered the beach collecting bits of flotsam though he usually enthusiastically joins us to read a book but it was too windy.
We drove back hungry and euphoric with our day contemplating eating one of the numerous suicidal hares dashing in front of the car if we happened to hit one - a little Patagonian surf n turf.

i think i need new cones . . .

of course they don't have them here . . . damn only 700 or so kilometers to go but this puppy is done rolling after nursing it along since Peru. I hope they can sell me a new rear disc hub . . . .

Mount FitzRoy

Mount FitzRoy is a mere 3375 meters (11073 feet) but is one of the premier challenges of the Alpine climbing world first ascended in 1952 by French alpinists Lionel Terray and Guido Magnone. Even now Fitz Roy is climbed maybe once a year, and when you look at the photos you can understand why then consider Patagonian weather . . . But we had a nice clear day - they are getting rare - to catch a glimpse from El Chalten, Argentina.A short hike up the valley to Laguna Capri improved the view even more

ride, ferry, ride, hike, ferry: back in Argentina

We had to get up at 6:00am to catch the second to last ferry of the season out of Villa O'Higgins pedaling the final 8km of the Austral Highway ending on the shores of Lago O'Higgins. The day promised to be long - a 4 hour ferry ride, a 22km hike-a-bike over a small pass and down to Lago Desierto to hopefully in time to catch the last ferry across to the road. We had been hearing accounts from cyclists heading north. Knee deep mud, river wades, thick brush, horse path ruts that swallow your bike, lions, tigers, poisonous snakes, cannibals etc . . . So I was jazzed to go.We rode to the ferry and gathered into a group 11 cyclists waiting for the ferry. I pulled the left over wine out of my rear pannier and passed it around in celebration of finishing the Austral - besides I did not need the extra weight on the hike a bike.Lucie and Torrie pulled up who I had not seen since the Cordillera Blanca, Peru and I managed some more jump pics over the course of the day without injuring myself. The ferry was comfortable moving towards a clearing day and we milled about taking photos, chatting in anticipation of the trail to come. Nine of us disembarked at Candalaria Mancilla, two continuing on to see the glacier, and we chatted with a Swiss cyclist washing his bike in the lake - same nightmare stories, "you will never make the ferry today!" We headed up to the Carbinero Post to stamp out of Chile.The first 15km was a straight forward climb on a rough dirt road that brought us to the start of the trail on the Argentinian border. By this point we were wondering how bad could this really be? Can 7km really take another 4-5hours? A Spaniard arrived in a spastic stumble up the trail wild eyed and muddy. We asked, "Como estas?" He moaned, "mal! muy mal!", adding, "have fun while you can!" Hmmmm. . . could we catch the ferry? "NO! es impossible!" Jesus Christ! it took him 4.5 hours and he looked reasonably fit. He said we would not be able to ride any of it and Matt will never get through with his trailer - you should strap it on your back! Well nothing like a good challenge and we were off.


The trail started off with a muddy brushy narrow bang that had me thinking if this continues it will be a very tough little trail . . . but the trail also relented to some great single track! Three of us had a blast on our mountain bikes riding close to 40% of the trail when we were not pushing through bogs or fording rivers. Most bike tourists are just not mountain bikers . . . especially East Coast mountain bikers - this was just like an upstate NY spring! Matt and I dusted the puppy in two hours with ear splitting grins the whole time. We all made the last ferry across Lago Desierto with time to spare after stamping into Argentina.
Ten bikes packed into the back of the boat we passed underneath the glaciers overhanging the Lago Desierto.
We disembarked and camped by Lago Desierto - all pretty happy to be back in Argentina. The campground charges 25 pesos or about $6-7 but a number of us had no money left. The caretaker said no problem pay what you can and if you want you can use the shower inside my house - typical laid back Argentina - definitely not Chile.
The next day Matt, Robin, and Alex hiked up to the nearby glacier and Matt took my camera with . . .
I went fishing in the river across the road that was the out flow for Lago Desierto. We only had a half bag of rice left . . . good motivation to catch fish! After catching 8 small rainbows, I was about ready to give up and eat plain rice. First, I would drag a streamer through a hole that I knew must hold a large fish . . . 4th - 5th cast and wham! I saw a big brown slash and gulp my woolly bugger. The fight was on for the next 10 minutes while I tried to keep him from breaking my tippet . . . lacking a net I jumped in the river grabbing the fish to catch the largest brown of my life at a solid 23 inches. Normally, I would release such a nice size fish but we were hungry. My feet are never gonna be dry in this place . . . After gorging on fish we set off at 5:30pm for 37km into El Chalten
and settled in at the base of Mt. Fitzroy to attend to our bikes and raid the first functioning ATM in over 500 kilometers.
Later that night in Chalten, Robin composed an impromptu haiku about the experience titled

The Spaniard

he came from the woods
have fun while you can he said
he was talking shit