El Chaltein and mt Fitz Roy

First of all we´ll have to admit we had to take a bus for one of the legs. We looked at our time schedule and what we wanted to do before we reached Santiago for Christmas and found out we had nowhere near enough time to cycle all the way and do the hikes we wanted to do. We needed to be in Santiago for the 22nd of December for the arrival of Las Novias, the girlfriends as we´d explained to many people on the route. My sister Lorr and her boyfriend John were joining the 4 of us for new years also so we had to be there on time.
After a lot of juggling figures and debating we took a bus from Puerto Natales to El Chaltein covering distances that would have taken us two weeks to cycle across barren ground with no shops and nothing much to see. Tough decision to take, but we´re glad we did now we´re getting to cycle the Carretera properly.
We stopped off for one day in El Calafate where we met some great people, Charly and Jo Edwards from London and their friend Cyril from Paris along with Jessica from Manchester who was on the same bus. We all got along great, ate out together and headed to see the spectacular Perito Moreno glacier together.

Paul and I headed off to El Chaltein in the evening, arriving late at night and very hungry so we headed into a cafe for a hamburger and a few beers. We ended up chatting to a few of the locals and trying some of the local stout, awfully sweet stuff. Later, round 1 am, well over the limit we cycled in the dark down the gravel main street and headed to the national park free campsite on the edge of town. Only we couldn´t find any other tents in the dark so after a few laps of the building with our head torches lighting the way we pitched up our tent outside the park ranger station beside a picnic bench. Seemed like an ok place to put a tent. Next morning at 9 hunger woke me and first thing I saw was a big field full of tents across the road from us, as it turned out the signs were only on the way into town as I explained and apologised to the Park Ranger who was none too pleased with us, inisiting we move immediately.
Later though he was decent enough to let us leave our bikes at his house while we were hiking.

Fitz Roy park was a better experience than the chilean Torres del Paine, less people so you didn´t have to say hola every 5 minutes and the trails were´in better condition, plus it was all free incuding a great info centre at the ranger station.
As we hiked out of town in the afternoon who did we meet but Charly Jo and Cyril from El Calafate, we hiked together for the day and pitched up our tents before heading up to see the base of mount fitz roy together.
I have to say of all the sights I´d seen so far mount fitz roy was outstanding, the approach shows you the mountain bit by bit, the peaks are awe inspiring and even standing where we were at the base you felt tiny looking up at the peaks. We had a geat clear day, cloud cover lifted and we could see all of the sublime peaks, remembering when they were summited first from the info centre.
The summit of Fitz Roy itself is rarely conquered and the first summit was in 1955, even that was disputed as one of the climbers fell to his death with the summit photos, so much so the other guy returned 11 years later and controversially used a portable compressor drilled rope anchors all the way up to conquer the peak. More info here

I was also impressed by the modern climbers returning from their summit attempts on various peaks. We talked to one pair to find out what they used the ski´s on their backpacks for only to be given a very short answer by one of the climbers; his older climbing parter explained that they´d failed at their attempt and apologised, saying they were tired, the skis were hinged at the front and had directional grip so they could use climbing boots to get over and up snowy sections easily. Later we met more mountaineers on their way down, some clearly elated but more were exhausted and shaky on their feet. Seeing the peaks up close gave me such respect for those guys, I get such bad vertigo that it will never be a sport for me but you had to admire their courage to climb such difficult peaks. Think how much work is involved in climbing 2000 metres with a 50 metre length of rope!

Later at the campsite in the middle of the woods we all ate and shared some wine, everybody cooking up their own camp food concoction, the french english contingent being more gourmet than the rest of us had some vino tinto which we all shared.
Next day we all the lads hiked to see the glacier then we returned to pack up camp and head on to see Cerro Torre. Id said goodbye to Charlie and Jo at the perito moreno glacier, then again at
the hostel in Calafate when our bus was later than expected, and then said goodbye again as they were headed back to el chaltein whereas we´d planned on camping again, only to meet them again later as we arrived at the Cerro Torre campsite and of course say goodbye for a 4th time, We also met Jessica on the trail later on, along with Robbie the Scottish-Aussie hiker who we´d met in the snow at the back end of Torres del Paine and again in El Calafate. Great to bump into such friendly people on the trail and swap stories.
Unfortunately Cerro Torre was hiding under it´s cap of cloud that evening and the next day so we decided to packup early next day and head into town to chat to the owner of a local wine store who we had heard was a touring cyclist also.

Fitz Roy photos are here

Hiking Torres Del Paine

The torres del paine national park is the most popular park in South america and was one of the big things we wanted to do. You have a choice between a day trip, which is what most tourists do, a 5 day w circuit and the big circuit which takes 8 to 9 days, both of which require you to carry all of your food.

We went to a great free info session given by the legendary Bill, the owner of Erratic Rock Hostel on the hikes and found out the refugio´s or shelters on the back end of the circuit were still closed from winter as there was still a lot of snow on the mountain. The snow would also mean we´d have to carry a tent in case we didn´t make the next shelter. There were also 3 ravines that had no bridges over them as winter avalanches had taken out the bridges and seeing as the circuit was not open yet they hadn´t been replaced so Bill advised us to tackle these first rather than go 5 days and find we had an uncrossable ravine between us and the boat home and have to backtrack 5 days.

We were up for the challenge so we went into town and bought food for 8 days. I know I eat a lot but if you´ve ever looked at 8 days food in a pile you´ll be shocked. No way it was going to fit in my 65 litre rucksack, I´d need to hire a 90 litre, plus Paul had only brought a 45 litre rucksack so we were only going to be able to carry 5 days food at best as we needed space for the tent, sleeping bag and warm clothes.While I had cycled in my leather hiking boots since ushuaia Paul had bought a pair of trekking shoes that weren´t going to be up to 4 days in the snow. The north face fancy dan lacing system had already started to fail. All things considered we opted for the shorter circuit with a bit added on; this would save us 4 days that we´d use to go hiking round mount fitz roy in Argentina and also give us two days to have a go at the ravines and get to the top of the paso gardner, the toughest part of the big circuit with the best views.

We took a catamaran across a windswept lake to the back of the park, ate a quick lunch and hit the trail to the back end of the park passing lago grey on the way where huge blue icebergs calved off the glacier were all parked up at the end of the lake by the wind. With Lago grey living up to its name because of the minerals in the water and the blue icebergs because of compressed glacial snow the view was stunning. At the opposide end after 5 hours fast hiking we got to the free campsite and sat for half an hour watching glacier grey, egging it on to calve off a piece of ice into the water. No luck, the glacier has been receding for the last few years so there wasn´t much happening though we didn´t mind as there were plenty of glaciers ahead on the route north.

Next day we left the tent pitched and packed light for an assault on the paso John Gardner, taking essentials plus a days food as we planned to return that evening. First we had to cross the 3 ravines, the first of which looked like a snow alley an indiana jones rock had rolled down. Winter avalanches had carved out a toboggan run for themselves here so we find a level section to cross where we can see solid rock and the rangers had left a rope to help us up the opposite side. We crossed some snow banks on the bottom of the ravine, feeling for more solid sections with my big boots making good sized foot holes to keep Pauls shoes dry.


At 30 metres wide and 20 metres deep there was some scrambing but nothing too hairy and we climbed up the bank and into the thick forest to find the trail again.

One thing that was really great about the park is that you can drink the water from the streams, glacial water running straight off the mountain tastes great and saves you hauling another kilo or two so after the hard work of the ravine we sat by a stream and drank a bit.


After two easier ravines across rivers we reached the ranger station. We´d passed a "track closed" sign before the ravines so when the ranger appears from his hut and asks us what we´re up to we reckon the game might be up, but once we tell him he chuckles and invites us in by his wood stove for coffee. Inside his hut we meet a spanish couple who´ve just came over the pass, they say the snow is waist high, I guess that´s thigh high for me but still tough going.


After a chat we hit off up the pass through a forest, hitting the snowline where thin powder becomes deep snow and eventually we´re walking on snow the height of the smaller trees. Some steps I just sink down to waist height, other steps I´m lucky and hit a frozen bit of snow and it can support my weight, tough going but good craic, don´t know how the poor spanish couple got down with their loaded packs.


We hit the top of the 1280m Pass, it´s higher than Carauntoohil! and the view of the icefield behind glacier grey is spread out before us with huge crevases and trails of rock on the top. We eat a bit of celebratory choclolate but can´t stay up too long though as the wind is harsh and the we see the weather approaching, time to get below the snowline before our trail gets blanked out and we have to use the gps to get back. On the way down through the deep snow it´s great craic, we take huge steps as if on the moon or walking on sponge and even toboggan down a bit without our packs for a laugh. The thinner snow in the forest is more difficult as it´s started to melt during the day and the going is tricky with slush and mud making for bad footing. It´s getting late as we recross the ravines and reach our tent for some grub and chat to the other hikers. A good days adventure.

For the next two days the weather was a bit Irish, we backtracked for one day and then tried to go up the valle frances, the middle part of the W shaped trail, crossing our first proper rope bridge over a glacial stream roaring below. Strong winds and a pelting mix of hail and rain stopped us half way up Valle Frances so we sat under a tree for an hour watching glacier frances up the mountain. At night in our tent at the campsite we´ve heard it rumbling away, from 7 in the evening on you hear a loud whoomph and the snow avalanche would rumble down the valley opposite us but today there´s no show. The lower valley is still worth having a good look at till the cold gets the better of us and we run out of biscuits.

Later Pauls North Face hiking boots give up the ghost. They have cleverly decided that rather than laces, which have worked for centurys they should use some nylon wire and a click system at the hheel of the shoe. These were marketed as proper hiking shoes but after the lacing system stops shutting and the laces themselves break in the middle of the hike the two of us get our camping stove and using red hot stove legs burn holes in the shoes to fit some laces. A month later the laces are still holding but no joy from north face in terms of replacing the shoes.

We take up the tent and head on to the next campsite in the hopes that we can dry all our soaking gear and boots. We´re pretty tired and damp and the thought of staying at a refugio in a warm bed is appealing only everyone else has the same idea and the place is packed. We nip in for a quick shower, leave our boots and gear by the fire to dry and walk barefoot out to the tent in the rain to cook dinner in the small porch of the tent rather than pay the outrageous money they are charging to use the gas hob, not to mind the price of a cooked dinner. A few friends we´ve made along the trail including Paddy the Cavan man try sparking up a stove to cook but are harshly dealt with by the staff so we don´t mind the outside too much.


Next day we ht the trail with dry boots and gear and cross into the dryer part of the park, making good progress and after 7 hours hiking we reach the torres themselves. It´s clear and we can see the torres themselves and then I don´t mind missing the valley frances the day before. People we´ve met have seen only 1 out of 3 highlights due to cloud so we´re doing well. We´d planning on bivying the night up there at the lookout to see the sunrise and it´s supposed to be spectacular so w e´ve hiked our full kit all the way up as the refugio staff refused to hold our tent overnight. Some of the privately owned refugios are not all that well run or friendly.


Anyhow it´s very cold up there and I guess after a long hike we´re a bit wrecked so we opt to hike down 50 mins to the campsite rather than stay up. It´s good craic at the campsite and we share some Vino Tinto with some welsh, american and israeli hikers. In the morning we get up at 4.30 and hike up with the stove and porridge and eat breakfast at the torres lookout at 840m or so, the porridge tastes great but the cloud cover is in and there´s no red sunrise for us.


After a wellearned beer and the best tasting can of pringles ever on the grass outside the small tienda at the bottom of the trail we hike out to the bus and then head into town to do some damage in the restaraunts eating two main courses in two different places, making short work of steaks and calzone´s and then heading for a few beers with Paddy from Cavan and Timo from the Black forest who we met on the trails.

Some pictures of the glacier and the hike are here.
Next stop El Calafate.

The shed men of Patagonia

Next leg of the trip was the 250 km stretch north from Rio Grande, across the border at San Sebastian into Chilean Patagonia and then west to Porvenir for the ferry across the straits of Magellan into Punta Arenas. We knew the prevailing wind was from the north west so we´d have a few tough days ahead.

The morning we woke up to leave Rio Grande the wind was howling through the town. Once we left the shelter of the town on the road north to san sebastian we were battling a strong headwind. We´d gotten out of bed early to avoid the strongest wind at mid day but for no gain. We were working hard to get 12 km per hour against the wind and Id missed 2.5 hours of time in my warm bed. Mighty

It was a slow and steady day; fighting the cross wind by leaning the bikes into the wind coming from the west to the left. Some times the wind would gust and lean the bike over and you had no option but to go with it and end up in the gravel hard shoulder. As your front wheel had no grip on the gravel to steer you back on the road we would end up stopping and walking the bike back onto the tarmac. Trucks on the road made it even more difficult as a truck from the opposite direction would blast you with even more cross wind sending you towards the ditch, where as a truck going our direction would block the cross wind for a second or two, sounds good I know only this meant the wind you were leaning the bike against was gone and you ended up headed for the white line in the middle.

By lunch we´d made 65 kms and stopped over at the back of an estancia on a lawn among the old horse drawn carts. We slept for an hour in the tent and then pushed on for the last 22km round 6, the last 22km took an hour and a half but felt like 3. It was cold and wet and after a long day neither of us were feeling like sprinting the last few kms to the border. We slept the night in the argentine border crossing waiting room, which might sound a bit crap but we had hot showers, a gas hob to cook on and a tiled floor to sleep on for free. The floor was the first bed I´ve fitted in since I arrived here!

Next morning we loaded up and the wind was howling. The border crossing had an awning like a petrol station and as I went to push off west towards the chilean border crossing the wind was too strong to take off. Had to walk the bike a few steps thinking it must be the building creating a wind funnel. 100 metres down the road and the wind hadn´t let up, we were cycling in our lowest gears and still only making 8 km per hour progress. The 14 kms of flat gravel road to the Chilean frontier took us 2.5 hours with some of that being us walking the bikes. We even tried tucking into the slipstream of one or two of the lorries who were crossing the border to avoid the headwind only they were wise to us and sped up.

The wind was unbelievable, at one stage I felt gravel hitting my face and looked up to see a lorry rounding a corner a good 500m ahead, in the field a river was being churned up over it´s bank and the birds were even finding it hard to make progress. Later we found it was 140kms per hour, no day for cycling so we camped for the day and slept at the chilean frontier, hoping the wind would die down in the evening so we wouldn´t have to bus it to Porvenir. There was a 9 o clock bus what went to Punta Areas the long way round tomorrow that would pick us up at the frontier worst case.

By 8pm the wind had died so we decided to make a run for it to Porvenir. There would be little or no traffic on the porvenir route at night so we put on our head torches and hit the road west. It might have been dark but we were making 22 kms per hour on the bikes easily and it wasn´t all that cold. All was going well till about 11 at night when the wind started to pick up again. There was no getting away from it so after doing 37kms in the dark on the gravel road I spotted a small galvanised shed by the side of the road where we slept for the night. Hardly the ritz but even if one of the sheets of metal on the roof was missing it kept the wind off us and we had a good nights sleep.

Next morning the wind was strong as ever and we were a bit wrecked. There was no point in heading off west against the wind as we were 110 kms from Porvenir and with that wind it would take us the guts of 3 days to get there. We only had a little less than 2 days food as there were no shops in the border towns like the map suggests. We learnt the hard way that a dot on the map might mean anything from a town with a bakery to 3 houses and a police station with no shop. The border between Argentina and Chile is very disputed so I guess both sides are keen to call places towns to stake their claims, without a thought for hungry cyclists looking for food.

Our options at this stage were either turn back and get a 9 bus tomorrow at the border 37kms back; easily done in an hour and a half as with the wind behind us we´d not even need to pedal, or we could try get a lift from passing traffic so we had a go at hitching.

Hitching with two bikes and a full set of bike luggage isn´t easy and while I can imagine two guys with a few days stubble standing by a shed in the middle of nowhere isn´t the most inviting place to pick someone up, nobody showed any sign of stopping. It was a good thing we had some food. Some sped up, buses drove on and ignored us and one lorry driver even gave us the finger. Some farm hands stopped and sparked up when I offered them a few dollars to get us to the next town but never came back. It looked like we were going nowhere. Nobody wanted to give the shed men a lift.

Late in the aftenoon I saw a white transit van coming over the road, taking it´s time and holding two buses up behind it. The buses were all over his tail, usually on a ripio gravel road everyone drives in the one lane, there´s space for two but one lane tends to wear better so the bus couldnt get past. Rembering when I had a landrover and it wouldn´t do any more than 55 without burning clouds of diesel and I used to hold up traffic I had a laugh to myself and though fair play to him, what´s the rush.

The white van stopped when I waved him down, the bus nearly crashing into him and Leo the street performer agreed to give us a lift. Turned out he had no mirrors on the van and hadn´t seen the buses. He was delivering statues to a town in the north, wasn´t going to Porvenir at all but my mention of 100 US dollars got him interested in the sights of Porvenir. We lumped the bikes in the back and with the three of us peering out through the cracked windscreen we hit the gravel road west. We were sorted.

On the way over we were glad we hadn´t tried to cycle for it. The two towns where we had thought we´d get food were deserted fishing villages so we´d have ran out of food. The wind would have been too much also as the sea on the straits of magellan was whipped into more white horses than I´ve ever seen and the old white milk van was struggling along at 60 kms per hour against the head wind and the hills. We didn´t mind the slow pace though and were delighted to get there 3 hours later. Better still we found out that the ferry which usually ran at 2 was delayed till 6 - we could make Punta Arenas tonight and be in civilisation for a few beers.

On the way over Leo was laughing at how much petrol his bosses van was using because of the weight and the wind. I´d smelt petrol inside but thought it might be from the stuff rolling round the back. Lucky the Van was dual fuel as when the petrol ran out 50kms from town he switched to gas. When we filled the van with petrol before heading for the port I saw petrol dripping down from underneath the van. We popped the bonnet and I saw that the fuel line was rubbing off the brake cylinder and dripping a decent amount of petrol down the side of the engine. Lucky someone had designed the exhaust on the opposite side to the fuel line in the factory!

Duct tape didn´t fix the Leak so while Leo went to buy some new fuel hose we chatted to two NZ motorbikers Steve and Rich we´d met at the border crossing the day before. They were surprised to see us given the wind but it turned out we´d camped just 10km back the road from them last night. Later, with Leo´s van getting better milage we said thanks and cycled to the port, our 20 minute head start on the motorbikes just getting us to the port before the bikers.

We cycled onto the ferry and after tieing our bikes down we got a good spot for leaving the port and watched the waves breaking over the bows of the roll on ferry. The crossing was rough and no doubt the sea water wasn´t the best thing for our bikes. Turns out it was worse for the motorbikes as one of them had fallen over and wouldn´t start when we arrived in Punta Arenas. We all pitched in and after two laps of the car park with 3 of us push starting the unloaded bike it wouldn´t start. I asked some welders refurbishing a ship nearby if they had jumpleads and next thing we had 5 of the lads and a jeep over chatting and helping out. After a lot of jumpstarting heating the sparkplug with the welders torch cured the problem and bike fired and we headed into town in convoy. Two bicycles and two motorbikes headed into town in convoy on halloween night at 10 pm must have been a sight as we got a few cheers from the locals trick or treating.

We had a few pints and food later with the lads who stayed at the same hostel in Punta Arenas before taking two well earned rest days in civilisation. The lads motored on, Rich first then Steve two days later after we had some more bike fixing to do before a battery charge and fuel filter change sorted it out.

A great adventure on this leg but hopefully we won´t end up stranded again!