I left Antofagasta after a single rest day to break up my ten days peddling to knock 1000km off the Atacama Desert between Inquique and Copiapo. Only 800 km to Santiago after 2600km of plowing through the desert. I no longer gaze longingly at the tour buses blowing past me on the Pan American . . . well maybe just a little but no danger I will flag one down - I even refused a ride offer from a trucker!
I climbed back up to the desert plateau to continue on my way after being told repeatedly that the dirt road along the coast was in terrible condition.
While stopped at an intersection contemplating my immediate direction in life Patrick, a Canadian cyclist traveling from La Paz, Bolivia to Patagonia, pulled up and we decided to take the road less traveled down to the coast hoping for pavement or at least a solid dirt road. We traveled a couple kilometers before camping in the desert off the road.
The next day we crossed over a small mountain range passing a large international observatory (out of sight) and dropped back onto the Pacific coast to camp well before sunset.
The rocky spit defining the bay offered the perfect opportunity to forage in the rocks for crabs and mollusks. However, I had no idea what I was doing until a local gathering seaweed, living in a tent down the beach, offered to show me the ropes. Sorry no photos of my lesson as I was busy getting wet learning how to stab crabs, pry sea urchins out of the surging tide, and carve lapas (a tasty mollusk) off the rocks, as well as getting a lesson in bird identification and the vagaries of the waves.
However, I put my lessons to good use a couple days later down the coast. I found no sea urchins, known to me as uni from Japanese sushi menus, but crabs were plentiful!
I am rapidly becoming the crab terror of the Pacific coast and they make a great after dinner snack around the campfire while drinking a cheap Merlot.
The coastal stretches have been real blessing, in this otherwise desolate landscape, with easy camping on beautiful beaches, sweet sunsets, intense stars, and a cool morning fog lasting until 10 or 11 am.
The little fishing villages allow easy access to water without having to haul around more than seven liters.
Camping followed a progression of cruising along the coast into small port communities . . .
along immense white sand beaches
Then climbing back up onto the plateau and camping along side the road in what ever spot we could find out of the wind.
Occasional restaurants in bleak little mining outposts along the Pan American serve trucking traffic but they are not lacking in holiday cheer and the wood stove was welcome for taking the chill off the morning ride.
Despite being bleak during the day the sunsets and stars are always spectacular
And I am finally starting to see vegetation in spots - it may not look lush but all things being relative this was a veritable garden of Eden.
The last afternoon before coming into Copiapo we are pounded by a vicious sand filled head wind on the plateau as we ground along at 9kmph . . . I was hoping to find a large shrine and sure enough
A memorial to a 14 year old girl and several dead 20 somethings with an event tent in the back off the road!
Without discussion we pulled in immediately and made ourselves at home. The highway is being widened to a divided four lane so the lanes closest to us are closed to traffic - perfect for our drunken weave into the wind then providing shelter from passing traffic in the night. Thank you Memo and Coco!
The next morning is a short 60km ride to Copiapo where I planned to take a two day rest. I start to see olive groves in the river valley and then before I knew what happened was riding along my own tree lined highway. . . maybe this desert will be coming to an end.
I left Antofagasta after a single rest day to break up my ten days peddling to knock 1000km off the Atacama Desert between Inquique and Copiapo. Only 800 km to Santiago after 2600km of plowing through the desert. I no longer gaze longingly at the tour buses blowing past me on the Pan American . . . well maybe just a little but no danger I will flag one down - I even refused a ride offer from a trucker!
I climbed back up to the desert plateau to continue on my way after being told repeatedly that the dirt road along the coast was in terrible condition.
While stopped at an intersection contemplating my immediate direction in life Patrick, a Canadian cyclist traveling from La Paz, Bolivia to Patagonia, pulled up and we decided to take the road less traveled down to the coast hoping for pavement or at least a solid dirt road. We traveled a couple kilometers before camping in the desert off the road.
The next day we crossed over a small mountain range passing a large international observatory (out of sight) and dropped back onto the Pacific coast to camp well before sunset.
The rocky spit defining the bay offered the perfect opportunity to forage in the rocks for crabs and mollusks. However, I had no idea what I was doing until a local gathering seaweed, living in a tent down the beach, offered to show me the ropes. Sorry no photos of my lesson as I was busy getting wet learning how to stab crabs, pry sea urchins out of the surging tide, and carve lapas (a tasty mollusk) off the rocks, as well as getting a lesson in bird identification and the vagaries of the waves.
However, I put my lessons to good use a couple days later down the coast. I found no sea urchins, known to me as uni from Japanese sushi menus, but crabs were plentiful!
I am rapidly becoming the crab terror of the Pacific coast and they make a great after dinner snack around the campfire while drinking a cheap Merlot.
The coastal stretches have been real blessing, in this otherwise desolate landscape, with easy camping on beautiful beaches, sweet sunsets, intense stars, and a cool morning fog lasting until 10 or 11 am.
The little fishing villages allow easy access to water without having to haul around more than seven liters.
Camping followed a progression of cruising along the coast into small port communities . . . 
along immense white sand beaches
Then climbing back up onto the plateau and camping along side the road in what ever spot we could find out of the wind.
Occasional restaurants in bleak little mining outposts along the Pan American serve trucking traffic but they are not lacking in holiday cheer and the wood stove was welcome for taking the chill off the morning ride.
Despite being bleak during the day the sunsets and stars are always spectacular
And I am finally starting to see vegetation in spots - it may not look lush but all things being relative this was a veritable garden of Eden.
The last afternoon before coming into Copiapo we are pounded by a vicious sand filled head wind on the plateau as we ground along at 9kmph . . . I was hoping to find a large shrine and sure enough 
A memorial to a 14 year old girl and several dead 20 somethings with an event tent in the back off the road!
Without discussion we pulled in immediately and made ourselves at home. The highway is being widened to a divided four lane so the lanes closest to us are closed to traffic - perfect for our drunken weave into the wind then providing shelter from passing traffic in the night. Thank you Memo and Coco!
The next morning is a short 60km ride to Copiapo where I planned to take a two day rest. I start to see olive groves in the river valley and then before I knew what happened was riding along my own tree lined highway. . . maybe this desert will be coming to an end.
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