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Published: January 22nd 2007
Strength against the wind!
Snack break, Christmas Day, overlooking Lago ArgentinoI am having a nightmare. An unrelenting headwind is blowing dust and grit into my face as I ride directly into it. The wind is progressively sapping my energy, blowing me across the road or off it, and frustrating all my efforts to move forward. I retreat inwardly, ignoring the brown landscape, experiencing nothing but the roaring in my ears and the constant attention my bike needs to keep upright.
But it's not a dream; it's our first day cycling in Patagonia.
We had planned and catered for 3 days, plus 1 day's contingency, to complete the leg across the semi-arid Argentinian steppe from El Calafate to El Chaltén. Leaving El Calafate on Christmas Day loaded up with 10 litres of water, plus rice, pasta and veggies, we set off east into a fast tailwind. 32km later we turned north-west around the edge of Lago Argentino onto Ruta 40 — and into a ferocious headwind. We struggled on for a further 36km before meeting a Swiss couple on a tandem who, that morning, had left El Chaltén, 140km away. Feeling deflated, we set up camp in a dusty culvert to escape the howling wind. We had to weigh the tent pegs down with rocks to prevent the wind wrenching them from the poor soil. A fine dust had penetrated the fabric of the panniers, creeping into our clothes and behind Dave's contact lenses. Spinifex-like grasses shed blades into everything. Christmas dinner was a gritty affair cooked in the lee side of the tent. We managed to make a celebration of the day with 2 pieces of handmade chocolate
Typical Patagonian landscape between El Calafate and El Chaltén
The road was good here, but in some places it was corrugated or very soft from El Calafate, and the last mouthful of Claire's birthday scotch. Although we were both shattered we still spent a sleepless night, disturbed by the mad flapping of the tent in a wind that lasted all night.
We awoke early to a bright calmness and broke camp in record time to take advantage of the favourable conditions. 10km later the bitumen ran out and the road turned into slow rubble. As a tour bus passed us we could see passengers leaning against the glass taking photos of us: we had become a curiousity in this dry country that you can see stretching away forever. We managed to restock our water supplies at a roadworkers' cabin; the road is being paved from each end, and we were to discover that only two short sections remain unpaved. This is a benefit that has come as a result of the current president, Nestor Kirchner, a Peronist and a native of Santa Cruz province, the only Patagonian to be elected president. The locals are making great loads of hay while this sun shines!
Later, after rounding a bend in the low hills we were greeted by a view of a dry plain
running down to Lago Viedma. A cruel, cold headwind hit us full-on. A short while later it started raining — horizontally! The dust covering our bikes, panniers and clothes turned to mud. An opportune quarry pit in the otherwise flat landscape offered our only chance of shelter and so we took it and set up camp after only 40km.
The next morning we fared a little better, starting with a slight tail wind. We quickly covered the 20km to the junction that would take us to El Chaltén, but on turning into it we were met once again by the strong headwinds that blow from the Andes. On this day they seemed particularly strong, and it brought our speed down to a miserly 4km an hour on flat, paved road! It was still 90km to El Chaltén and we had very little water left, having come across no habitations since the previous afternoon. Riding was dangerous as the gusts blew us across the road unexpectedly and with the roar of the wind in our ears we couldn't hear anything coming from behind. After riding for about 30 minutes and making only 2km, we made an executive decision to turn
around, put the wind behind us and head for Tres Lagos, a small town that was marked on our map further east. This is the first time in any of our cycling experiences that we have been blown off course. From Tres Lagos we hoped to catch a bus to El Chaltén. With the wind now behind us we were pushed down a newly paved road. And pushed up: Claire stopped pedalling part way up a rise and, not only was she pushed up by the wind, she gained speed! We covered the 40km to Tres Lagos in a record 1.5 hours!
Tres Lagos proved to be a typical Patagonian town: a few wide, dusty streets, a handful of houses, 2 small corner shops, a clinic and a police station. The streets were deserted except for a pack of dogs roaming around irritated by the wind. With the help of a local we booked onto the bus, which passes by every other day. With a day to spend here, we rented a cabin for the night and sat in it watching the walls shake in the wind, washing our clothes, and practising our exerable Spanish. Even the locals exclaimed
about the wind. (Living here would drive us mad.) While we waited for the bus at a lonely petrol station outside the town, we watched a local youth spend hours listlessly spraying thousands of crickets with WD-40. It was a pointless exercise, as the crickets abounded in the tens of thousands. It seemed to be a picture of the typical lack of hope that exists in small, remote towns everywhere that have not invented a new future for themselves in a rapidly changing world.
El Chaltèn is another isolated Patagonian town, and sits at the confluence of the Fitzroy and de las Vueltas rivers. Marcel, the grandly moustachioed owner of a hostel that we stayed in, remembers when there was no town here. He grew up on a sheep estancia (large property) near Tres Lagos. He told us that the Argentinian government established it to reinforce the country's territorial claim in this remote area. This is a game that Chile and Argentina play against each other with zeal on both sides. For some years, El Chaltén was a grid of streets with signs pointing to the police station and other official offices — but with no buildings. Eventually, offices
and homes for government staff were built, and the town peopled. Then climbers began to use it as a base for scaling Mount Fitzroy and the other almost-vertical peaks here. Now, although it retains a government function, in summer at least it is a tourist town. The permanent population of 450 swells to 1,000 workers during the summer, and they cater for the 2,000 tourists a night who stay here.
Fitzroy (called Chaltén, which means smoking mountain, by the indigenous Tehuelche people), Cerro Torre, Poincenot and the other peaks here have a reputation of being "ultimate", despite their average height (of less than half that of the Himalayan giants), because the sheer granite faces present long stretches of arduous technical climbing. In addition, the weather in the area is inclined to be treacherous. We were very fortunate to enjoy great weather that also gave us excellent views of this magnificient mountain range.
El Chaltén is also a popular destination for the many cyclists who wish to make the the overland crossing between Argentina and Chile, where the southern end of the famous Carretera Austral is. This 1,240km dirt-and-gravel road is our destination, and why we are here, too
— but first, some trekking.
We had met up with a Dutch couple, Ellen and Pierre, and spent some lovely days with them exploring the trekking paths of the northern section of Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, home of Fitzroy and the other peaks. The trekking was pretty easy, with short hauls between campsites, and with beautiful views and a variety of landscapes. We celebrated the new year with Ellen and Pierre. Almost. Cold rain on the afternoon of December 31 drove us into our tents. We slept and played word games, and then the rain cleared in time for us to cook dinner outside. Soon a howling wind was blowing straight off the edge of the southern ice field only a couple of kilometres away, and after sharing some sugar-coated peanuts and a cask of red wine that we heated over the stove, were all in bed by 11pm. It was still only 3 degrees at 11 the next morning, when we started on a short, steep walk to a lookout of Mount Fitzroy.
We left El Chaltén, headed north for Villa O'Higgins, one of the remotest towns in Chile, and not far across the border. There is
Cerro Torre from De Agostini campsite
Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, Fitzroy section no road access, and the paths to get us there are suited to hikers and definitely not cyclists. We tackled the crossing in several parts:
- riding 37km along a dirt road from El Chaltén to the southern shore of Lago Del Desierto;
- taking a boat 14km across the lake to the isolated Argentinian customs and border post — this saved us a rough hike with our bikes and gear;
- trekking 6km up a high pass to the Chilean border carrying only our gear in backpacks borrowed from Ellen and Pierre, and camping on the border that night;
- returning the empty backpacks early the next morning, before retracing our steps with our bikes, pushing them all the way along a narrow, difficult track;
- loading the bikes with our gear and riding 15km along a dirt track (including one wet river crossing) to the Chilean customs at Candelario Mancila on Lago O’Higgins;
- catching the ferry to Villa O’Higgins, which included a 7km ride.
We interspersed the crossing with a couple of hikes. We are told that, of the thousands who come to El Chaltén to walk, only about 2% go to Lago del
Desierto and points from there. The second side-trip was to the remote Refugio (shelter) Rio Diablo, which gives access to a lookout over Chile and a glacier of the great southern ice field, the largest body of ice outside the polar regions. The border guards told us that about 200 walkers a year make the trek. The border guards like to ride up there regularly, judging by the amount of horse manure we encountered! It was beautiful, and alive with birdlife and flowering shrubs, orchids and peat bog plants. (The border guards kindly looked after our bikes and gear while we made the trek.)
If the crossing to Villa O'Higgins sounds quite complicated and tiring — it was! Not only did we have to carry enough food for several days (including for the side trips), we weren't allowed to take any fresh fruit or vegetables across the border, so we had to time the rationing so that all the prohibited foodstuffs were eaten before we got to the Chilean customs. Also, the ferry across Lago O’Higgins operates only on Wednesdays and Saturdays (and sometimes not at all if the weather is bad) and there is nowhere to buy extra
Revealed at last
Poincenot on the left, Fitzroy on the right food should one miss the ferry. We made it with perfect timing and after a two-hour cruise, had only 7 more kilometres to ride before we found four walls, a warm bed and a hot shower in Villa O'Higgins. Bliss after eight unwashed days in the open. Our timing was good in another way, too: the supply truck that keeps the 500-odd people of Villa O'Higgins fed comes only twice a month in summer (and once in winter), and it arrived the morning after we did. We were glad we bought food early, as by the afternoon, the only fresh produce still available was the hardy staples: spuds, carrots, onions and garlic.
Although a handful of hardy western pioneers have lived in this area for a hundred years or more, slowly displacing the Tehuelche, the towns here are much more recent. Villa O'Higgins was founded in 1967, and, until recently was accessible only by boat.
We are now resting in Villa O'Higgins for a couple of days, in sunny, windless heat of 18 degrees, before we tackle the Carretera Austral.
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Sheila Woolley
non-member comment
You're crazy!!
Dave, I hardly recognised you with all that hair on your face but Claire, If I were you, I would be jealous as at least Dave would have a warm face when the wind threatens to blow you away! Seriously though I admire your courage but think you are crazy. I will satisfy my desire to see that part of the world through your blogs and stick to warmer climates myself. Keep pushing on, you will have some wonderful memories at the end of it all. Sheila