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Published: January 29th 2018
The river runs from the Chile-Argentina border down to the Pacific. Blue and clear, it had become a raging torrent when my road joined and followed it Southwest through the mountains. What was unexpected was to find a large group of rafters and kayakers going down it. That looked really scary. I followed them down to where they took out. The organizers and some of the clients were Americans. They didn't seem to have lost anyone.
The road out of Trevelin into Chile to Futaleufú was deep gravel. After a brief 10 km pavement respite, it was gravel again until I reached the Chilean equivalent of Argentina's Ruta 40. It is called the Carretera Austral, Ruta 7, and runs North South through this broken up part of Chile. It was paved when I turned onto it -- a really beautiful run down deep valleys. Too bad that some sections are still under construction, so it was back to the gravel and dust again.
The small town of Puyuhuapi where I will spend the night, is down on the Pacific ocean (though it looks like a lake). I had sawfish tonight (first time) at a restaurant that was trying to
make everything using local foods. It was really good. But it was strange to watch folks would walk in, look at the menu, talk to the waitress, and then walk out. She explained that they were trying to get people to try new, local foods, and they refused to prepare chicken and chips and sandwiches. Sort of the opposite of what capitalism is about -- responding to the consumer... She said the restaurant would try and hold out against fast food as long as they could. I wished them well. My food was great. Tonight I am sleeping in the German Hostel, and listening to everyone talking German in the lobby. Where am I?
Distance traveled: 280 km.
Tot: 0.446s; Tpl: 0.024s; cc: 14; qc: 27; dbt: 0.0101s; 1; m:saturn w:www (220.127.116.11); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb