In Mendoza, headed to salta

Over 4 days we crossed the andes into mendoza from Santiago. We´re resting up for a day then heading north to salta. Some of the landscapes we cycled through were sublime, so an update will have to wait until we get the photos uploaded

La Junta to the ghost town - Chaiten

Next day we woke with the sun blasting our tent from the other side of the valley, I had to get out of the tent but Paul managed another hour of sleep by poking his head out the tent door. Hats off to his ability to sleep as for the last two weeks his inflatable camping mat was leaking, causing him to sink to the hard ground in the middle of the night or end up sleeping on his side. He´d either have to re inflate it two or three times a night or just sleep on the hard ground.

After the mandatory Porridge and a blast of mate to wake us up we were sitting our enjoying the view when we saw a camper van approaching from the distance. The german driver and his wife stopped for a chat, nice people, and I´d have to say the german people are great adventurer´s we´d meet them in all places having brought their campers, jeeps bicycles or plain hiking boots from home, but to get to this end of the carretera with a big camper van topped it all.

Over the next two days we passed Villa st Lucia which was basically a crossroads with a supermarket, then after a long days pedalling over another high pass in the heat we reached the small lakeside village of Puerto Cardenas.

All day we´d been thinking of cold beer or worst case a cold drink or an icecream so we were fairly dissappointed when we rolled into the village only to find no shop. Our luck was in though as there was a travelling van selling fruit so we bought 3 kilos of fruit for a bout 3 euro, a mixed bag of apples, cherries, peaches and oranges , all of them perfectly ripe and fresh. Sitting by the side of the lake eating the fruit later it was hard to believe that this was the first time we´d had fresh fruit since Buenos Aires, two months earlier!

The lads in the van told us there was a house up the road that had a shop out back and stocked beer, the norm for small towns in those parts so we went to investigate. Two old dears who looked like they´d never drank in their lives told us they didn´t sell anything, not to mind beer so we had to cycle back to the lake, the lads in the van having a right good laugh as us.
We were used to the odd hick local having a go at us or trying to make fun of the tourists but it was bad form tricking two dusty, sweaty cyclists after a hot day when they knew we´d had to cross the mountain pass earlier on the road.
We didn´t care too much though, we were in too good a mood as we were only 50km away from completing the Carretera Austral and reaching the port town of Chaiten where we´d get the ferry north from.
A volcano had erupted in Chaiten in May 2008, Click here for some background and a map of the town´s position. We knew the town was offically still evacuated, I´d read reports on the internet that a flood had swept away some houses in the town in october so we weren´t quite sure what to expect. Other travellers had painted vastly different stories ranging from all is well in the town to one guy saying it wasn´t possible to go there. All we knew for sure was that the boat was still running and that one shop in the town was open. Worst case we´d buy some supplies and camp by the port.

We hit the road early that morning, glad of the cool of the morning and making good speed. At this stage we were both fit and strong from the gravel roads and once we hit the asphalt 28km from town we were hitting 24km per hour, a fast pace for a loaded touring bike, both of us eager to see the volcano and what state the town was in. 10 km from town the road started to have fine dust on the hard shoulder so we reckoned we´d see the volcano at any minute but we had to wait till we were right in the town before the bolw of mountains round the town let us see what looked like one of the smaller volcanoes.

For a small volcano it had wreaked some destruction on what was obviously a beautiful setting before; A small town with the fjiord on one side and a ring of peaks in the background was now reduced to a demolition zone.

As we rolled into town all we could see was a layer of ash and the crumpled wooden houses that the lahar had swept along in it´s path. Rather then lava it was the volcanic ash that had done most of the damage, coating the town in a thick layer first but then clogging the river before the buildup rushed into town, ploughing through the wooden houses, wrecking all but one bridge and cutting a new path through the settlement. Like junior cert geography houses on the outside were eroded away; one of them now sits out in the bay like a tombstone among the grey sea of ash, the houses on the inside had 1 to 3 metres of ash dumped on their streets, back yards and living rooms. Have a look at Pauls photos of the destruction

Round the corner we were interviewed and had our details taken by a Carabinero. I guess the town is under police control to avoid anyone looting, we´d heard of backpackers staying in abandoned houses so the Carabinero´s wanted to know how long we were staying and where.
We had a beer outside the one supermarket that was open and then went to find the one lodging that was open. Cycling round we could see the chilean flag flying on houses that people had returned to, a lot of the houses were unoccupied. We stayed the night in a self catering cabin that still had a musty smell and the damp traces of flooding.
Next morning we went to the port to get the ferry to Puerto Montt, it was a sad scene at the port as there were lots of locals there with the salvagable contents of their houses on the backs of jeeps and lorries. For many this was goodbye to Chaiten, I think that given the level of volcanic activity the Chilean Government are controversially not going to rebuil the town. Certainly the work that the few bulldozers and diggers were doing was more to build a levee to prevent the river flooding again and to keep the mouth of the river free so the ash could escape downstream.
As we left on the boat we were glad to have finished this leg and be on our way to some more adventures but sad to see what was a really beautiful place destroyed.

The photo album of this leg are here

Coyhaique to La Junta - fishing time

Bike pannier racks fixed, well watered, fed and rested we hit the road out of Coyhaique and climbed up the steep hill out of town before beginning a long descent. The temperature was getting hotter now and by now mid day cyclingwas hot and tough going. Often our hats or tshirts would have streaks of salt on them after the days cycling. Two weeks ago it was cold enough to keep butter in our bags where as now we were having to drink lots. Pity the butter wouldn´t keep as we´d found Irish made Kerrygold dairy butter in the better chilean supermarkets, much better than the tasteless bland butter they produce locally and a real shame to have to eat half of it in the evening and the other half the next morning!

We pedalled out of the city, camped in the next village and then hit the road again, passing through our first road tunnel and remembering the good advice we were given to take our sunglasses off and turn on our bike lights for the dark of the tunnel. Only dangerous passes and the 100km of road in and out of the Regional capital were paved so on the second day out we hit gravel again. Not that I minded particularly, I guess on gravel you have to pick your line where as asphalt can get a bit boring as you´re just pedaling away.

I won´t try and describe the scenery as to be honest we´d seen so much that compared to the rest it was a bit un remarkable, I´m not saying that the view was anything approaching boring, just that we we´d seen so much we were on landscape overload.

Later that day we hit another section of asphalt and then camped near road bridge by a deep river. We´d been meaning to get some fishing in for some time and this looked like the perfect spot with lots of fish jumping. In the morning hunger woke me so I went fishing using a bamboo pole and caught 2 nice trout for breakfast. Paul was joking about having trout for breakfast so you can imagine how surprised he was to be handed the frying pan with a cooked fish when he got out of the tent.

Villa Amenguales and the road works
Next day we passed through Villa Amenguales, stopping at one of the small grocery mini mercados to pick up our usual exciting cuisine from their selection of non perishable food, Pasta and porridge being about the height of it. How the locals put up with it or dont die of scurvy I don´t know.

Shortly after the town the tarmac ended and the gravel began, worse still they were laying new gravel that was so soft our bike wheels were sinking, making the uphill progress tough going and we ended up having to walk uphill past the road crews in their rollers and graders. We got cycling again but after another 12km the newly laid gravel had been loosened by traffic and our forward progress ground to a halt. The gravel sucked at the bike tires making it heavy work and it felt like we were having to put in three times the work in the heat and dust. Very frustrating, I think Paul and his bike even had a bit of an argument, I ended up walking and both of us came off the bike or had to push start a few times on the long uphill stretch. Like most days of the Carretera we were rewarded later on in the morning with some downhill, though with the loose gravel it´s more like surfing as the bikes have little grip

Piedra Del Gata

Before 1pm we passed the famous Piedra del gata, a rocky ravine where a clear river roars over a rocky bed. The water there is so clear you can watch the salmon run from the road. A concrete bridge has been built over the river but like a scene from an action movie the river has washed away the start of the bridge. Keeping up with their usual safety standards the locals have just put some plastic tape and two bollards up to stop people driving into the river.

By now we´ve had to take siesta´s out of the heat of the midday sun so further on we take 2 hours by a river to eat, have a swim in some freezing water and relax before pushing on for the afternoon. Every day we end up cycling through the big clouds of dust when traffic passes, like cycling in fog so we usually try to take a deep breath when cars pass. The dust, suncream and sweat all mix together so by the end of most days we´re caked in a layer of gunge, so we´ve ended up taking a good wash at any opportunity.

In the afternoon we take a narrow rocky road up a mountain pass. Its so bad we´re reduced to pushing the bike up a steep, narrow road strewn with small rocks, with a couple of shiny new oil lorries coming downhill towards us. As we´d find out later they were supplying the roadworks on the opposite side of the mountain. All the way up the carretera we´d meet roadworks, more and more of the road was being paved and while it would mean an improvement in the quality of life for the local people it would mean an end to the adventure that was tackling the Carretera Austral. It would be more accessible to tourists, bringing the crowds and taking a bit from the unique remoteness of the area. Paul was quick to spot that the proposed power lines for the proposed Hydro scheme down south would run along here, all the more reason to put in a good road to transport the plyons. He´d also noticed that the spans of the new bridges they were building along the route were very over specced, hinting that the proposed hydro scheme might be more planned than proposed.

I guess the feeling we got cycling along was that we were privaleged to be seeing the area at the end of an era, with the new roads, increased traffic and ugly power lines it would never be the same in the future.

After we crested the pass it was getting late in the day and I was a bit wrecked tired. We had a bit of a debate about where to camp and decided that if somewhere suitable came up we´d call a halt to the days cycling. I was more wrecked than Paul and didn´t fancy spending the night up on a high pass. My luck was out though as once we descended the gravel hairpins on the other side of the pass the road was surrounded by thick undergrowth with little space to throw a tent up.

We plugged along, and after we reached the shored of the lake we knew we couldn´t be too far from the national park in the area. We asked a passing motorist how far up the road it was and were happy to find it was only 5km, it´d been a long day of hard cyclng so we were happy to see the famous hanging glacier on the side of a mountain as we crested a hill along the newly improved gravel road.

After camping the night in the Park we hiked up to the viewpoint were rewarded with some loud icefalls from the glacier, chunks of ice fell off the advancing edge of the glacier, hit rock son the way down and exploded like flour or castor sugar being sifted on the way down. With the sound taking time to reach us, the crack and boom of the ice falling only reached us after the ice was finished falling, giving us plenty to time to take in the picture, then the sound. Each time a lump fell of you´d find yourself trying to predict what the sound would be like. So far this was the most impressive natural feature we´d seen. I know I´m beginnning to sound like a bit of a tree hugger and don´t worry I´m not about to grow dreads and chain myself to anything but it was sad to see that the glacier is retreating, 10 years ago there were two steps to the hanging glacier like a penny pusher in a seaside arcade.

Getting back from the hike we stopped on the rope bridge over the glacial river, glad of the natural air-con afforded by the cool spray off the river before we packed up and cycled into Puyhuapi. On the way in we were stopped by the roadworks for a bout 5 minutes only to be let through to cycle pass a gang of roadworkers laying dynamite to blast the new road out of the rock. By now we´d been cycling along a Fjiord and when the road snaked along the Fjiord enough we reach the small town by the lake shore. The town was settled by german people in 1947 so it had unique german style houses and streets named after it´s founders; Walther Hopperdietzel and Otto Ubel. In fact the colonists were so industrous that they had built a road themselves to link the town with the next lake valley and lucky for the townspeople in modern times this influenced the people building the carretera austral to bring the highway through the town instead of another valley, keeping the town on the beaten path. The whole town was very dusty when we visited as there were roadworks to tarmac the road into and out of town but the locals all said it would be good for the town in the long run, of all the small towns we´d passed through they seemed to be the most progressive, even producing a tourist map of the sights of the town. That two of the sights were a fish farm and a gravel pit didn´t deter the tourist board. The sunset above shows you how beautiful the setting of the town was.

After our usual feed of Lomo a lo Pobre and chips we headed back to our campsite and to sink a few beers by the hobo stove in the campsite´s rain shelter. That morning we had something approaching our first disagreement, more of a sign of how tired we were than any big rift between the two of us so a few beers and a rest day are welcome.

When we reached la Junta I was eager to seek out a fishing guide who´s number I´d been given back in the regional capital. When we stopped in a small cafe for coffee we enquired and like most small towns in Ireland the lady running the place knew him, gave him a call and within 20 minutes we were sorted for a fishing trip the next day. Next morning, after we wild camped the night by the river, Javier, our guide met us near our pitch with his boat and we headed upriver for some fishing.

The river was both wide and flowy so the light aluminium launch had to fight the current to get upriver, the boat hopping along some of the rougher sections with Javier picking his way upstream. We could see the rocks below as the water was less than 1.5 metres deep in spots and crystal clear.

Paul fished using a wet fly up the front of the boat while I used a spinning rod out the back of the boat with Javier manning the oars in the middle. After 10 minutes fishing in a clear area I reckon Javier had decided these two could actually fish and weren´t going to lose all his hooks so we headed upstream again, Javier trying to find some deep pools or shaded areas where the trout would hide on the bright day. 10 minutes later I had my first fish in Patagonian waters, a good sized brown trout and after a bit of a fight we released him and started fishing again. Over the day my casting improved, Paul got the measure of the wet fly and we had some great fishing. Javier rowing the boat downstream past deep pools where the fish were and the two of s picking our spots to land the hooks with the rods. Often I´d be retrieving the spinner only to see two trout competeting for a bite of the hook, I´d slow down my reeling in to give them a chance and then hook them, great sport.

I caught about 8 fish on the spinner, Paul caught two on the more difficult wet fly and by the time we finished our half day´s fishing we were well hungry. The two trout we kept made a great lunch by the riverbank before we hit the road for the afternoon, covering 48km along a stunning valley before we camped by a section of the old road leading to a bridge that had been washed away. We washed in the river, glad that the streams had warmed from the the limb shattering cold of down south to allow us to wash without needing to defrost.

The photo album of this leg are here

The Carretera Austral to Coyhaique 03/12

I guess what I´m writing now happened before Christmas but hopefully you´ll find it interesting and I´ll manage to condense 2/3 of the Carretera austral a bit better than my previous posts. So much to write about.

After the tough day on the gravel we stayed 2 days in the well laid out campsite in Cerro Castillo, one to rest up and one to see the Cuevo de los Manos. The cave was supposed to have ochre cave man paintings of their hands on the cliff face but was the biggest let down ever, we reckoned it was the cliffs of moher of Chile! Having taken the bad unpaved road through the mountains instead of the paved road with the idea of seeing the Cuevo we weren´t too dissappointed, the mountains were spectacular enought in their own right. Black basalt rock formations rising steeply to form pillars and buttresses giving the Cerro its Castle like look, definitely worth seeing.

Back at the campsite the owner and his family were very friendly, he and his brother ran horse trekking trips and were happy to chat to us about the area and his horses. On the morning we were hitting the road north again the lads passed us in their van, beeping the horn. Sound fellas I thought to myself, only a few hundred yards down the road they braked and the reversing lights of their small lorry/horsebox came on. Must have forgotten something back at the campsite I thought, only when we cycled up to them they were offering us a lift to the next crossroads. We´d started the day with the aim of making the 104km to Coyhaique, the capital of the region. Granted the road was apshalt but it still had a 1024m pass to cross so it was going to be a tough day. Rather than look a gift horse in the mouth we hoiked the bikes in the back of their small lorry and then hopped in, their english sheepdog dog happy of the company. We got a few strange looks passing farms with a dog and cyclist peering out of the horsebox for the 10km or so.

After saying goodbye to the lads we headed up the pass in our bottom gears, the pass was called the hill of the devil or Cuesto del Diablo, not sure if it was the steepness or the dark rock at the top that made it so foreboding to earn it that name. Generally though on the carretera austral they only put tarmac on sections where it´s absolutely necessary, usually any of the mountain sections that had asphalt had a fair few crosses at the roadside. We didn´t hang about much at the top of the pass as it got cold up there quickly.

We descended again, ending up in another valley following the course of a gushing river as the road snaked along a narrow valley of dark rock, it got pretty cold as we were still at 1000m or so. From the looks of the road I´d say it would be snow bound in the winter and given how cold it was on a summers day you´d be looking at snow chains in the winter. Another hour of pedalling uphill and we started to descend goodo, passing through some amazing valleys with rusty red rock formations and streaks of copper ore lying exposed on hillsides. Chile must have some amount of mineral deposits.

Lots of motorbikers passed us going the opposite way giving us a wave or the one legged motorbike salute. Great scenery, warm weather, everyone was enjoying it bar the poor cyclist that was cycling up the opposite direction to us. Later in the day we descended through some rolling alpine farmland, the temperature rising nicely as we dropped altitude and the bikes not needing too much encouragement to hit 45km per hour and more on some sections.


We hit Coyhaique late in the evening, pasing through cliff formations similar to those in Edinburgh on the way in, it was probably the most enjoyable days cycling we´d had so far. The route had everything, a tough pass, a section in the mountains where we weren´t quite sure where the dark valleys were going to end, some decent rain showers and then a warm descent through spectacular formations followed by lush alpine meadows. 104Km and smiles all round, time for some Lomo a lo Pobre! ( steak and chips).

As our hostel is a bit out of town and downhill we cycled in for a feed, the bikes feeling all funny without the luggage. We went on the tear till late, the first town in a month with anything resembling nightlife and though the beer was crap we eventually found a good pub where one of the barmen kept feeding us the tail end of what ever cocktail he was mixing. Some interesting cycling on the way home!

Our hostel was a really unique spot, tucked into a hilly grove of trees across a river valley outside town, made entirely of wood and with a really relaxed atmosphere. Better still it had a great breakfast of porridge with stewed fruit and cream. After so many weeks of just swallowing the porridge in the morning it´s hard to believe it could still taste good. Can´t say enough good things about porridge really- at this stage we´re even thinking of contacting Flahavans Porridge in Ireland to see if they´ll sponsor us! Even a set of the naff tracksuits they used to give out in the 80´s would do!

At the hostel we meet a really friendly Swiss Colombian Couple Philippe and Ana who are great to swap tales of the road and advice with. They even give us a list of houses where cyclists can stay for free because the owner has toured or just likes helping cyclists out. In one place they had stayed for a whole month! so it sounds like a great plan for when the money will be tight or to give us a place to rest up for a few days.

On the day we were due to leave we packed everything up only to find the bumpy gravel had got to Paul´s front carrier. The aluminium rack was broken and we were going nowhere till we got it fixed as his bag would have fallen off a mile out the road. Given that aluminium welders are hard to find back home we were surprised to find that the bike shop in town would weld it. Nice bit of good luck for it to break here as opposed to out in the sticks.

We decided to have a few steaks before we hit the road and had to eat pasta and sauce for lunch and dinner again and seeing as there was a barbequeue out the back of the hostel we thought we´d fire it up. The hostel owner told us to help ourselves and to gather pine cones to start it, only we couldn´t find any charcoal. Eventually he explains that using dry wood gathered from the ground we could make our charcoal from the fire. He warned us not to burn the place down and once we´d sparked up some tinder we could see what he meant, the dry wood we´d collected from the ground went up so fast that you could see why forest fires could take off so quickly.
The steaks tasted great, and out on the patio we had some good bottles of Chilean Castelliero Del Diablo with Ana and Philippe. That we only paid 4 euro for a wine that costs 13 euro back home adding to the taste!

just taking a break

Apologies for the lack of posts, after reaching Santiago we´ve been very Busy.
Paul and I met Emily his girlfriend and headed to Valparaiso for Christmas eve and had a great Chirstmas dinner, complete with draught cans of Guinness thanks to Emily.
A few days later Paul and Emily headed south on their travels to explore chile and argentina while I headed to Mendoza with my girlfriend Rosie, sister Lorr and her boyfriend John.
Right now I´m in Pucon,the chilean lake district with Rosie, headed rafting some grade 4 rapids the afternoon, Rosie´s headed to the beach, by odd co incidence Lorraine and John´s backapcker tour is in town too so no doubt we´ll meet up later for a few drinks and I think Paul is somewhere between Mendoza and Santiago.
Lots to write about, will probably have to wait till Rosie heads home and we reach a cheaper place to stay for a few days and plan the rest of the cycling.
Alls well,