I was now two days back from Matt Kelly and mounted up my reacquired mountain bike tires and rolled out of Futuleufu monster truck style. While the tire ordeal was a hassle I appreciated my fat treads on the washboard and loose gravel leaving Futuleufu for the famous and much anticipated Austral Highway.
I rode along the Futuleufu River that I had rafted three days before with Matt, Evan and Robin. Matt and I were getting ready to roll out when we ran into Evan and Robin – they are two other cyclists we had met earlier in Trevelin, Argentina grillin' and campin'. They convinced us in all of two seconds that we should join them rafting one of the top 3 white water rivers in the world and what a ride! Class 5 white water so clean you can drink from the river and drink it we did – class 4-5 white water is some big stuff and all of us swam except moi . . . my legs were clamped onto the raft for dear life plus I have a little experience on the water so I kinda knew what we were getting into – but that will have to wait for another post when I get the photos from Evan – but I just had to tease.
The first night I camped on the shores of Lago Yelcho cooking over a nice campfire in only a light drizzling mist. A few others were camped along the lake shore – some rare Americans from Seattle that I chatted with and a couple Israelis recently released from military service hitching South America until their money ran out. Israelis are probably the single biggest foreign tourist contingent because nearly all of them seem to travel once they have completed their compulsory military service. I kept tripping over the same groups in the next couple days as we hopscotched each other down the Austral Highway sharing travel stories and food.
I was bound for Coyhaique, the biggest city (pop. 50,000) mid way down the Austral, about a five day ride. In between are some towns with basic services (food) that are small weather beaten collections of wooden houses with beater pickups parked out front that remind me of a cross between Maine coastal fishing villages – not Bar Harbor – and high mountain towns in the Rockies.
Traffic was never heavy as I weaved back and forth avoiding extended washboard sections and soft gravel. However, when trucks do pass I am thinking a little rain might be a good thing to damp down the blinding dust - each morning I wake with gravel bars in the corners of my eyes.
Most every sign is spray painted with "sin represas" or no dams - the whole region is slated to be dammed with a series of five dams for hydropower largely to supply mining operations to the north and eventually in Patagonia. This will include the Futuleufu River among many others. Most agree that it is inevitable but a shame when you consider these are the cleanest and wildest rivers in the world coursing through incomparable wilderness. I can not help but feel a little sadness riding through this landscape with the knowledge that it will be gone if I ever return. Chile is not noted for its responsiveness to citizens or environmental responsibility but that will be another story.
For now I can drink freely from all the water around me . . .
streaming off the glaciated mountains all around - until I reach Puyahaupi located on the end of a fjord that eventually weaves to the Pacific.
I got a nice break on a short ferry ride around some road construction before entering Quelat National Forest
The route is popular with cyclist heading north and south - sometimes I feel we nearly outnumber cars on the road. I ran into Pete and Nafisa who were starting their trip north and chatted comparing route notes - check them out at
www.southamericabybike.blogspot.com/
I continued along the fjord filling up at one of the many waterfalls before finding a spot to camp in the open on a stone beach by a dock.
I considered camping on the dock
but was glad I did not because a boat docked in the night dropping off about 15 construction workers and illuminating my rest spot with a bright flood light but everyone was friendly and amused to see me there - I even got a morning coffee invitation and offer to stay on the boat if I was cold.
However, I started the next day early into the heart of Quelat National Park beginning a large climb - well large by Patagonian standards 500 meters in about 10-12 kilometers, not Peru standards to be sure.
The whole region is a temperate rain forest with a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar. The surrounding granite peaks loom over the valley with glacial waterfalls on every mountain side. I keep snapping pictures until my battery starts to get low.
The descent off the pass is a steep road of river cobble until I hit the paved road below at Piedra Gato and take the opportunity to change tires and see how my boot job is going to hold - it is still holding after nearly 200km.
Despite the mountainous terrain the road largely follows river drainages which makes for pleasant riding combined with a fierce Patagonian wind on my back - suppose all this will change when the valleys are flooded . . .
At the first little town I again run into Matt and Natt plus Miriam, from Holland who has joined them - plus Robin from Futuleufu. Joos, a friend for Coyhaique that I met in Mendoza, unexpectedly shows up when he notinces the bikes beside the road while passing by with some clients he is guiding! Patagonia can feel a little small at times for being so immense.
That night we camp in a barn on a small estancia with lots of dogs and livestock - nice to be out of the night rain.
The morning dawned gorgeous
The nenxt day was rainy but good riding weather for Robin, Matt and myself to bang out 120km into Coyhaique. Scenery was predictably nice with waterfalls and cattle on the plateau that Coyhaique sits on. We were all in need of a good shower and some clothes washing. We would spend the next few days as a large group of rowdy cyclists and I visited with Joos.
Lonely, I am not.
I rode along the Futuleufu River that I had rafted three days before with Matt, Evan and Robin. Matt and I were getting ready to roll out when we ran into Evan and Robin – they are two other cyclists we had met earlier in Trevelin, Argentina grillin' and campin'. They convinced us in all of two seconds that we should join them rafting one of the top 3 white water rivers in the world and what a ride! Class 5 white water so clean you can drink from the river and drink it we did – class 4-5 white water is some big stuff and all of us swam except moi . . . my legs were clamped onto the raft for dear life plus I have a little experience on the water so I kinda knew what we were getting into – but that will have to wait for another post when I get the photos from Evan – but I just had to tease.
The first night I camped on the shores of Lago Yelcho cooking over a nice campfire in only a light drizzling mist. A few others were camped along the lake shore – some rare Americans from Seattle that I chatted with and a couple Israelis recently released from military service hitching South America until their money ran out. Israelis are probably the single biggest foreign tourist contingent because nearly all of them seem to travel once they have completed their compulsory military service. I kept tripping over the same groups in the next couple days as we hopscotched each other down the Austral Highway sharing travel stories and food.
I was bound for Coyhaique, the biggest city (pop. 50,000) mid way down the Austral, about a five day ride. In between are some towns with basic services (food) that are small weather beaten collections of wooden houses with beater pickups parked out front that remind me of a cross between Maine coastal fishing villages – not Bar Harbor – and high mountain towns in the Rockies. 
Traffic was never heavy as I weaved back and forth avoiding extended washboard sections and soft gravel. However, when trucks do pass I am thinking a little rain might be a good thing to damp down the blinding dust - each morning I wake with gravel bars in the corners of my eyes.
Most every sign is spray painted with "sin represas" or no dams - the whole region is slated to be dammed with a series of five dams for hydropower largely to supply mining operations to the north and eventually in Patagonia. This will include the Futuleufu River among many others. Most agree that it is inevitable but a shame when you consider these are the cleanest and wildest rivers in the world coursing through incomparable wilderness. I can not help but feel a little sadness riding through this landscape with the knowledge that it will be gone if I ever return. Chile is not noted for its responsiveness to citizens or environmental responsibility but that will be another story.
For now I can drink freely from all the water around me . . .
streaming off the glaciated mountains all around - until I reach Puyahaupi located on the end of a fjord that eventually weaves to the Pacific.
I got a nice break on a short ferry ride around some road construction before entering Quelat National Forest
The route is popular with cyclist heading north and south - sometimes I feel we nearly outnumber cars on the road. I ran into Pete and Nafisa who were starting their trip north and chatted comparing route notes - check them out at www.southamericabybike.blogspot.com/
I continued along the fjord filling up at one of the many waterfalls before finding a spot to camp in the open on a stone beach by a dock.
I considered camping on the dock
but was glad I did not because a boat docked in the night dropping off about 15 construction workers and illuminating my rest spot with a bright flood light but everyone was friendly and amused to see me there - I even got a morning coffee invitation and offer to stay on the boat if I was cold.
However, I started the next day early into the heart of Quelat National Park beginning a large climb - well large by Patagonian standards 500 meters in about 10-12 kilometers, not Peru standards to be sure.
The whole region is a temperate rain forest with a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar. The surrounding granite peaks loom over the valley with glacial waterfalls on every mountain side. I keep snapping pictures until my battery starts to get low.
The descent off the pass is a steep road of river cobble until I hit the paved road below at Piedra Gato and take the opportunity to change tires and see how my boot job is going to hold - it is still holding after nearly 200km.
Despite the mountainous terrain the road largely follows river drainages which makes for pleasant riding combined with a fierce Patagonian wind on my back - suppose all this will change when the valleys are flooded . . .
At the first little town I again run into Matt and Natt plus Miriam, from Holland who has joined them - plus Robin from Futuleufu. Joos, a friend for Coyhaique that I met in Mendoza, unexpectedly shows up when he notinces the bikes beside the road while passing by with some clients he is guiding! Patagonia can feel a little small at times for being so immense.
That night we camp in a barn on a small estancia with lots of dogs and livestock - nice to be out of the night rain.
The morning dawned gorgeous
The nenxt day was rainy but good riding weather for Robin, Matt and myself to bang out 120km into Coyhaique. Scenery was predictably nice with waterfalls and cattle on the plateau that Coyhaique sits on. We were all in need of a good shower and some clothes washing. We would spend the next few days as a large group of rowdy cyclists and I visited with Joos.
Lonely, I am not.
these pictures make me long for spring and summer in thr rockies...I have seen these peaks and cows and meadows and rivers and fences and rutted roads before and I can not wait to roll over and through them this year...so glad to see you are in a biking nirvana and may the final miles be peaceful...
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