Pedalling the Pampa

Pedalling the Pampa I had arrived at the town of Villa O’Higgins after cycling Chile’s Carretera Austral. Villa O’Higgins is at the end of the road. For the few travellers that come here by car they have but one choice, and that is to turn around and go back the way they came. If the car traveller wants to go further south they must go back and cross into Argentina almost 400 km to the north before heading south again. But I was travelling by bike so I had another option.

Every Friday for about three months over summer you can catch a four hour boat trip down the lake, Lago O’Higgins, to a Chilean border post at a place called Candelario Mancilla. There is nothing there but the border post and accommodation for the soldiers that must man it. After getting your passport stamped you head off up a 15 km rough four wheel drive track to a pass. At the top of the pass, if the weather is good, and it was on the Friday that I crossed, you will get your first sight of the majestic peak of Cerro Fitzroy. From there you remove your panniers and put your luggage in your back pack and lug your bike down a 5 km tramping track to another lake, Laguna del Desierto, in Argentina. Here you will find another border post, this time Argentinean, and nothing else unless you count lots of big trout swimming in the lake.

Arriving at the Argentinean border post, the seven of us who made the crossing that day, or should that be week, were met by a very officious customs officer who proceeded to note down all the serial numbers of our equipment. Of the seven of us one was Chilean and after noting down the serial number of his camera the customs officer removed the film. This part of the border between the two countries is one of the few remaining parts still in dispute and so there is still a bit of tension or so it would seem. After getting his camera back he walked out the door, put in another film and proceeded to take some more photos very similar to the ones he had taken before. We all thought it was quite bizarre.

The next morning we got our passports back along with an A4 certificate of entry describing in minute detail when we arrived and what we were carrying. It has turned out to be a great souvenir of my trip.

We then caught a boat down the lake to the other end where there was a road to the town of El Chalten, 37 km away. El Chalten is a trekking and climbing town where people come to trek to or climb up the majestic peaks of Cerro Torre and Cerro Fitzroy. The peaks are extremely difficult technically, sheer granite rock walls, and climbers wanting to climb them must often wait weeks to get a good weather window due to the high winds that prevail this far south. I spent a few days trekking around the peaks taking lots of photos before heading south again, out on to the barren Patagonian pampa.

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004

Glynne Lloyd I was not too sure what to expect on the pampa except wind of course. I had been told that it would be quite boring, miles and miles of barren landscape. Well it was very barren and very brown and would probably be quite boring viewed from a bus or car window. But I found the landscape very beautiful, the browns of the earth contrasting with the various shades of blue of the lakes and sky. The area reminded me of the Central Otago landscapes, especially as they are portrayed in Grahame Sydney’s paintings. As well as the landscape there were lots of animals that made this part of the trip very interesting. There were Huanaco (small llama like animals), the native Rhea which is called a Ñandoo, foxes, and sheep.

It took two days ride to get to the tourist town of El Calafate. El Calafate is situated on Lago Argentino not far from a number of spectacular glaciers including the famous Perito Moreno glacier. I spent a few days there chilling out drinking espresso coffee, eating homemade chocolates and ice creams and taking tourist trips to see the glaciers. Then it was back out to the pampa for what would be the longest stretch between major towns, the 270 km stretch to the Chilean tourist town of Puerto Natales. I was hoping to get there in three days, or perhaps on the morning of the fourth day.

On the evening of the first day I met a Swiss cyclist going the other way who told me that about 60 km ahead was a new section of sealed road that was not yet finished and not open to cars, but the workers let cyclists use it. The only problem he said was that it by-passes the border post by a few kilometres and you have to cycle back to it.

I ended up using this road and it was great cycling on a sealed road but not having to worry about cars. At the end of it I came to a T intersection and I duly headed back east and found the border post. I noticed another gravel road coming in to the border post but did not take much notice of it as I thought I knew the way from the other cyclist’s description. Because of this I did not bother asking the customs official which was the correct road to Chile. This was a mistake.

After cycling about 6 or 7 kms I was surprised that I had not come to the Chilean border post as it was supposed to be only 7 kms away. At this point it began to rain. Soon there was a foot of clay around my wheels and chain. I couldn’t ride my bike so I

Cruising beneath Cerro Fitzroy o Chalten (Glynne Lloyd)

tried pushing it and then dragging it but alas with 6 inches of clay on my shoes I was getting nowhere.

A dump truck came by and offered me a lift. I wanted to do the whole trip without getting a lift but I thought in these conditions for 1 km or so it would hardly matter if I cheated. The driver asking me where I was going and thinking he meant where was I going when I got into Chile I replied Puerto Natales. You see, once in Chile you can either go south to Puerto Natales or north to the Torres del Paine National Park, and I was going South. He didn’t say anything to that.

Half an hour later and still no sign of the border I asked the driver where he was going, to which he replied “Rio Turbio”. And that’s when it dawned on me that I had taken the wrong road. Rio Turbio is a town in Argentina and the road to it runs parallel with the road in Chile that I was supposed to be riding on. What was I to do?

Rio Turbio and Puerto Natales are very close together separated by another border crossing of about 30 km. I decide that I would cycle from Rio Turbio to Puerto Natales that night so that I could get a bus back the next day to the original border post so that I could ride the 50 kilometres I had missed by (a) going the wrong way and (b) getting a lift in a truck.

It was after 8.30pm when I got dropped off in Rio Turbio, but the driver told me the crossing was Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 paved and that it was flat. For a mountain pass it wasn’t all that steep but flat it wasn’t. After a good climb I got to the border post and got my passport stamped as having left Argentina for the second time that day and then it was up and over the other side for an awesome down hill into Chile. I noticed after about 300 metres when I went to use the brakes that they were still caked in clay. I managed to stop my bike and fix that before heading on down to finally arrive in Chile.

By the time I cleared customs it was dark and I still had over an hours ride to go, with no lights. Eventually I got there after riding on the wrong side facing the oncoming traffic and pulling off the road whenever a car came. But my days drama was not yet over.

I was too tired and dehydrated to think properly and I couldn’t be bothered stopping to find my guide book. I decided to guess my way to the towns main square, or plaza, as there is always accommodation near to the plaza. After awhile I saw a lady coming out of a dairy and I asked her where the plaza was. Very far away she said. She took pity on my and took me under her wing. I was soon in her house with her family getting fed and watered. They told me I must stay with them, so I did. It was great meeting this family and was a good ending to what had been quite a tough day.

I never did go back to cycle that 50 kilometres, instead after a couple of days resting I headed off south once more to the city of Punta Arenas 250 kilometres away. This is quite a boring bit of road but it is sealed and I was looking forward to that after weeks of cycling on mainly gravel roads with plenty of wash board. I had heard that you could easily cycle it in a day if you got a strong Patagonian tail wind. Unfortuneatly I didn’t so it took me two reasonably solid days instead.

Punta Arenas is a city of about 120,000 people. It is a city which made money in the past as a supply stopover for ships rounding the horn as well as from the big sheep stations that existed around 1900. The opening of the Panama Canal spelt the end of it’s days as a major resupply point for shipping but the city has been fortunate with the discovery of large oil reserves nearby.

I spent a few days in Punta Arenas checking out the museums, the big mansions from 100 years ago, and the local cemetery which is one of the most beautiful in South America for its massive mauseliums built by the wealthy 100 years before.

Leaving Punta Arenas, I took a two hour ferry ride to the town of Porvenir on the Western side of the island of Tierra del Fuego. Being on Tierra del Fuego I felt that my southern journey was coming to an end. However I still had 475 km to go, the island is quite big, and another broken spoke.

The northern two thirds of Tierra del Fuego is very flat with very little in the way of vegetation, and also Upsala Glacier, Argentina (Glynne Lloyd)

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004 not many towns. It took me three days to cycle to the town of Rio Grande and the two nights that I camped along the way were a little worrying. I would try and find a hill to put my tent up behind in case the wind that Patagonia is famous for got up during the night. On both occasions I had the tent tied down as firmly as I could and yet awoke to dead calm in the morning with dew on my tent. I think I was very lucky.

The next day out of Rio Grande was a really good day. The weather was great and I was feeling very relaxed and having plenty of rests to lie in the sun. It was beginning to dawn on me that I would soon be in Ushuaia and that my southern odyssey would be over and I think that was probably why I was pottering along trying to make it last longer.

As I was daydreaming a bus passed me, and I thought nothing of it. Then a couple of kilometres down the road I saw that it had stopped and that all the passengers were outside. I started to smile because this was not my first experience of passing a broken down bus in South America. I knew the routine. They would all be standing on the side of the road with their thumbs out as I came along side. But no, this was to be different.

As I came alongside the engine was running and the passengers were not playing the usual stranded passenger games. They just wanted to talk to the crazy foreigner who was cycling in Tierra del Fuego. Where are you from they asked? Can we

Getting lost on the Pampa (Glynne Lloyd)

That night I camped at a lake about 100 kilometres from Ushaia. One more day I thought. But the next day it rained all day and I was back on the gravel and finally in the mountains. I got to within 30 kilometres and came to a restaurant/lodge place. I stopped for a bite to eat and a coffee and sitting drying out in front of the fire I found it difficult to leave. They had a couple of campsites on the property so I decided to postpone my arrival into Ushuaia one more day.

The next day I finally arrived in Ushuaia. As I was cycling into town an Argentinean in a car pulled over and explained that he had cycled from Ushuaia to Anchorage, Alaska a few years before over about 18 months. He told me a friend of his had recently opened a hostel and to go and check it out. I did check it out and it was a really good hostel despite my sceptisim.

And so ended my journey to the end of the world, as the locals like to call it. I still had a few more weeks before I went home in which I would do some trekking around the famous Torres del Paine National Park, take the four day ferry back from Puerto Natales to Puerto Montt, and then do a couple of weeks cycling around the lakes district of Chile and Argentina. But the main reason for me being here was behind me. It had been a great journey.

take your photo? “Neo Zélanda” and “Si” I responded.

It turned out that they were a very famous and historic Argentine cavalry regiment and they showed me their ceremonial uniform on the soldier that was painted on the side of the bus. They were on there way to Ushuaia to a festival to teach the local children about Argentina’s military history.

“What do you think of Argentina?” they asked. “Bella! Linda! Hermosa!” I replied. Which basically means its nice, lovely, and beautiful. “And the people?” they asked.

“Bella! Linda! Hermosa!” I replied once more to which they they broke out into big smiles and then laughed and slapped me on the back

Finally I had to line up with them in front of the bus while their official photographer took photos with everyone’s camera and with this massive big camera which looked like a TV camera. I asked him about it and he said “You are going to be on television”, he told me. When, I wanted to know. “En diez dias, maso menos.” Which literally means in ten days time more or less, but more like meant in ten days time I think, but I don’t really know, may be never. We parted company and for me what was a great day, was now even better after this wonderful experience.

Tramping & Mountaineering 2004