Adventures with Crocodile Dundee

Anna's new accessories

This has been a tumultuous week for the author as criticism of his work was received for the first time. The previous blog post (that only some people were able to read) highlighted some of the lesser known problems we face each day and apologies for the content are certainly not forthcoming. To notice one day that a complete section of last weeks blog had been unceremoniously deleted made me feel rather like a North Korean journalist. It is clear to me now that I must sing from the party line - Anna is happy, healthy and smells like chamomile.

This week of cycling has been an entertaining one as we were joined by uncle Dallas, or big Dal; an Australian directly resembling Crocodile Dundee in both appearance and abilities. Before leaving Cohaique he fixed Anna's front rack, attached a handy new box to her bike and fashioned a handlebar bag out of a camera case; all in less time than it takes to say "throw another shrimp on the barbie." Not only did he manage to pass some of his worldly knowledge onto us but he also kept us constantly amused with his colourful stream of comments on 'nutbars' (all motorists), and 'cats' (everyone else).

With the weather staying hot and dry our first few days out of Cohaique felt somehow like a family holiday in the south of France, with frequent breaks for ice-cream and our first dip in the river. On the second day out of town we arrived at our next 'casa de cyclesta', this one run by Jorge, a legend of a man who has housed around 3000 cyclists in his time. We were even treated to an impromptu performance by an Argentinian couple funding their travels with their guitar and ukulele.

After 2000kms without so much as a scratch on our pristine bicycles, things started to break just as we left the last bike shop for 400kms. 20 kms out of town I noticed my wheel was wobbling like a tipsy toddler and we pulled over to take a look. A couple of spokes had seen better days but handyman Dallas tightened things up and hopefully it all holds together for the next week or so.

Our honeymoon of paved roads was soon over and we returned to the delights of gravel. With them we were back to snow capped mountains and forward to rainforests. The climbs were tough but the views were as spectacular as ever.

After spending a few days looking for fishing utensils we finally managed to locate the necessary items and were ready to go. On setting up camp beside the river one night Dallas confidently threw in a line as we prepared for a trout dinner. Two hours later after successfully hooking a 2 pound stick we settled instead for pasta.

We had been hearing horror stories of the upcoming road for days and tentatively set off from La Junta for a 70km section described by one man as 'the worst road in the world.' Anna was newly kitted out with a big fat new tire while Matt manfully slid onwards on his anorexic wheels. After 10kms Dallas noticed his GPS had disappeared and we headed back to camp to look for it, but to no avail. With that sweaty backtrack our chances of finishing the stretch in one day were slim and we came to a halt well before the end. The road was even worse the following day as we choked our way through dusty air and wobbled our way over the rocky road, the surface of which more closely resembled an English beach than a road. Some slow motion falls and subsequent uphill pushing were the theme of the day.

We camped at Santa Lucia, a small village at the turn in the road. After much deliberation we have decided to cross back into Argentina as Dallas continues North through Chile. We parted ways over a breakfast tub of ice-cream and set off for Futelefu. We arrived dirty and bedraggled the following morning, ready for a good hose down. From here it is just 10kms to the border as tomorrow we cross countries yet again.


 

sun

Due to the sensitive nature of the topic covered here previously, Anna has decided to remove the content so as not to offend anyone/embarrass herself. Matt decided to post about certain health issues that he thought were funny but are, indeed, not fun for anyone involved.


Aside from the problems highlighted above, we have had a successful week or so of cycling. The weather has been incredible, for the first time allowing shorts and t shirts to be worn throughout the first day, and then long sleeves and trousers to cover the sunburn on the following days.

We cycled with the Swedish/Argentinian couple for the first day out of Cochrane, leaving late and taking our time to enjoy the views and the sun. We spent 3 hilly days cycling through some of the most picturesque places we have seen,  the road following the river and spending our nights camped beside lakes.

The water is the most vivid of blues, containing a mineral from the glaciers that makes for some amazing sights. Where two rivers converge, you can see each shade of blue join to create a third that flows invitingly onwards. In the heat of the day (something we didn't think existed a week ago) the water looks so appealing until you dip your little toe in and run back to the warm safety of your socks.

We arrived in Puerto Rio Tranquillo after these three amazing days and spent the following morning on a boat rather than a bike, visiting the marble caves an hours journey away. The caves were very pretty interesting but it was the journey back across the choppy lake that got us our moneys worth.

The next 3 days were more challenging and were dominated by pasta and pedaling as we moved away from the lakes and into forests. After some sizeable climbs on the first couple days the drop from 1200 metres to 100 metres on the final day helped us pick up some speed on our way into Cohaique. This town is the biggest we have visited and even boasts an ATM, the first we have seen since re-entering Chile. We are staying in a 'casa de cyclesta', essentially free accommodation just for cyclists provided by Boris, a man who we are yet to meet.

Two nights of baking and merriment with our temporary companions from around the world and we will soon be ready to go on our way.

N.B. The map bit of this blog actually works now and soon maybe we will even manage to update the photo bit.

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Beginning the Carraterra Austral

We left Villa O'Higgins feeling supremely confident about our cycling ability as we sped speedily past a chainsmoking Frenchman pulling a trailer. With water cascading from hundreds of waterfalls straight from the glacier just above us we no longer needed to carry our body weight in water and it made a huge difference. Sadly this confidence dissolved rapidly in the rain that began to fall and we ducked into an unused house after 40 km to dry off. With the rain falling heavily we managed just another 15km to another refugio in the form of a small wooden cabin where we managed to relight the fire and spend a dry and warmish night.

The rain had only intensified by morning and we resigned ourselves to getting thoroughly wet as we forced ourselves to leave in the early afternoon. The views were beautiful but with our extremities freezing rapidly we weren't in the highest of spirits as we made it to the ferry crossing. We leaked onto the boat and aggressively hugged the two radiators on board for the duration of the crossing. On the other side we joined a Swede, an Argentinian and a German in another purpose built refugio and very slowly warmed our cockels.

The next day brought better weather but with it news of floods further up the road. With the road ahead blocked and running low on cooking gas we changed plans and detoured to Tortel, a tiny village built on stilts beside a lake. With all the heavy rain a section of this road was flooded as well but a helpful fella popped us in a truck and drove us through the worst of it. A dog, soon to be named Yungay followed us the 40km to town and stayed dutifully by our side for the next 2 days before we managed to persuade her to follow another cyclist back home.

We spent a relaxing day wandering about Tortel, and met an awesome Canadian family embarking on their 7 month cycling trip around South America with a 4 and 5 year old cycling in tow. We spent the following morning waiting with them for the almost ever present rain to subside before setting off again in the afternoon.

The road for the next few weeks is unpaved and our skinny tyres have about as much grip on the road as teenage girl has on her emotions. As people fly past us with what seem like bus tyres on their bikes we slip and slide onwards at a much gentler rate. We happened upon an impromptu campsite in the evening and joined the wine, chocolate and campfire provided by our American, Swiss and French neighbours for the night (and Zoro the dog who had followed them for their 60km ride).

A bumpy and slippery journey the following day brought us (and Zoro) into Cochrane where we are loading up on supplies before heading onwards later today.