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The Rocky Road to Chile Chico

By Chris Thompson - 2009-04-06

Return to the Wilderness

We are pedaling out of Cochrane. The road is hot and dusty. The sky is big and blue above us. The cold ‘Rio Baker’ flows swift and deep below us. What is happening? Are we sweating? It hasn’t been hot and dry enough for sweat in quite a while. The sun burns our necks gloriously. A sun burn never felt so good. Nevermind the depleted ozone layer. Patagonia has turned a deep shade of blue, cool green, and snowy white. We climb up to the other side of the valley. Our late start has caught up with us, so we camp after a short day’s ride. A grassy meadow is our home, a fire is crackling on our hearth. We have stacked up a pile of scavenged firewood big enough to last us for the winter. The sun sets over the Andes, while we cook hotdogs over the hot coals. Save for the pies the local livestock have generously left us, things couldn’t get much better. The next day, our dreamworld of green pine forests, and tall mountains continues to pass by us, gently spilling us onto the shores of Lago General Carrera. I sit down beside the edge of the dusty road. It’s time to eat, I take out my lunch of apples, ham, cheese, and a few rolls of ‘hallulla’, the round table bread so commonly eaten down here. A lunch on the road never lasts long enough, but sooner or later we have to keep on moving.

Tomamos un Devisio (We take a side trip)

Soon we turn off the road towards Coyhaique. Instead of passing along the north shore of Lago General Carrera, we’ll go along the southern road that skirts the lakes edge. We have a friend from Puerto Natales in Chile Chico we want to see. A few miles from the crossroad is our first big climb. The road is so steep, it is impossible to do anything but push the bikes. A short half a kilometer recieves a thirty minute rest. Wallace finishes the climb first. "Don’t tell me whats around the corner, I don’t want to know yet" he tells us as we catch up to him. The day is spent climbing, and then rolling down into little towns dotting the shore of the lake. Everyone tells us the road to Chile Chico is terrible. This is the start of it. We climb, and descend, climb, and descend. Every climb is slow and painful. Our rear tires kick up stones and skid out. I find myself pushing my bike, slowly up the roads. At the top, I spend a few minutes marvelling at the views, and then begin the slow and bumpy downhill. We spend the night at the top of a switchback, sharing a windy field with some bored horses.

Daniel Abandons us For Four Beautiful Women

We wake up early in the morning. A layer of dew covers my sleeping bag. I look over and see Daniel packing up his bike. He has to ride to Chile Chico this morning to catch a bus north. He decided to leave the three smelly ‘hombres’ he’s been living with for the last few months and spend some time with beautiful women in Santiago. I can’t really blame him. It is the last time we’ll see each other for a few weeks. His sisters are visiting him in Santiago, so he’s taking a mini vacation from our trip. We say our goodbyes, and he heads off. As the day moves on, the horribly steep roads transition into hard packed salt roads. The mountains slowly turn back into pampas. We’re crossing into the higher plains that border Chile and Argentina in this area. The bright greeness beegins to dry up. Wallace looses his waterbottle in a stream. We end the day with a smooth rushing downhill into Chile Chico. We find our friend Eva. It is such a rush to be greeted by a friend, so far from home. Our trip is becominng a series of islands of friends, seperated by an ocean of ripio and mountain waves. We’ve landed on the shores of Chile Chico.