Tag: bikepacking

Day 22: El Chaltén – Puerto Natales

By the time I got into my tent, I would only be getting a maximum of two hours sleep before it was time for me to get up and head for the bus station, aiming for the 3 AM bus to El Calafate.

I got up quickly and packed up my sleeping kit before rushing along to the bus station. There was a slight issue, it was also the bus to El Calafate airport, and the bus was full and wouldn’t take bikes. A sub-optimal start to my day.

All the other buses were full too, the ticket officer said, except that I could get a ticket, with my bike, for the 2 PM bus, so it seemed that I should take it. After I had, she quickly closed up the ticket office and was on her way, and I was left to deliberate the situation. The situation being, that I’d just bought a bus ticket to El Calafate that would arrive at 5 PM, whereby the last bus leaving El Calafate for Puerto Natales that day, would be leaving at half past 4. Oh dear. I’d also been introduced to the idea that some buses in Argentina took bikes, others didn’t.

Starting to worry, I found a number for a private transfer company, and started to message, surprised to find that they messaged back at 4 in the morning. Soon though, they became unresponsive, and I was left not really having had anything confirmed at all.

I checked again online and found other coach companies, so formulated a new plan. Return to the campsite, set my tent back up, and then return to the bus station before 8 o’clock to check on the other buses. A flawless plan, until the morning, when I turned my alarm off, and promptly fell back asleep.

Mid morning, I tried that tactic anyway, rushing around all the various coach company offices in the bus station checking to see if they had any places available. There were not, and suddenly I had a dawning realisation that I was reenacting an episode of Race Across the World, a series I had watched fervently and clearly not learned anything from. The only difference being that I didn’t have a partner-in-crime to complain at when things went wrong. I had gone from the end of the world, to prime tourist season Patagonia in a day, and the transport woes were the same.

The tourist information desk couldn’t help with suggesting a company to provide a transfer with the bike, but I was pointed in the direction of a wall of taxi numbers, so picked one, and thankfully they responded quickly. Yes they could give me a lift the 200 km to El Calafate. The catch? It would cost 300,000 (£155) in Argentinian pesos, or $215 USD. Well, it was that or spend over £300 on a new flight from El Calafate, so it felt like I had little choice.

Clearly the price in pesos was better value, so, as I hadn’t got any Argentinian money yet, I rushed off to a bank. Finding one, I was initially bemused when I couldn’t take out the amount of money I needed, until I realised that the machine would only let me take out up to £50 worth of pesos a day, nowhere near enough. Not to worry I thought, there was a branch of Western Union nearby, I could take out some dollars, apparently at a better rate than they would be usually, which could help reduce the relative price of the transfer. Only problem, Western Union had no dollars.

I was in trouble, I messaged the taxi company back and said that I didn’t have enough cash, could I possibly visit a cash machine in El Calafate when I got there. How about you pay some of it on your card was the response. Well, ok then, I’ll pay all of it on my card if that’s an option!

The transfer passed pleasantly enough, the route comprising flattish roads of beautiful tarmac, as the road navigated its way around two large lakes – Lago Viedma and Lago Argentino – backed by beautiful snow-capped peaks.

Arriving at El Calafate bus station, with some time to spare until the last bus, which I’d already booked online, I made for the company’s ticket office to ensure that my bike would be allowed as luggage. No we don’t take bikes, the woman said, why does no one check these things. Look at the sign, she said pointing at a sign reading ‘no bici’.

Once the bad cop had her say, the good cop checked my passport and then said that she’d need to phone head office to make sure it was ok. It was, it just needed me to pay an additional fee, specifically for bikes, funnily enough.

That sorted, my next thought turned to bike boxes. I was to arrive in Puerto Natales at half past 10 at night, and my flight the next day was at 11 o’clock. The window for picking up a box was small, so it wasn’t with much hope that I messaged a bike shop to ask if they could sell me a box. Thankfully the first one came up trumps, and not only could he sell me a box, but he could open up early to let me have it.

When the bus arrived into Puerto Natales, a full hour early, I took the opportunity to book a hotel for the night and recover a little sleep. After I’d finished discarding all of the unused food out of my panniers, that was.

Day 19: Caleta Tortel – Puerto Yungay

Distance: 27.18 miles

Time: 3:55

Elevation Gain: 2,336 feet

The next day, Desiree was taking a rest day, and I was pushing on the 45 km or so to Puerto Yungay ferry terminal, ideally in time to make the last ferry at 7 o’clock, and continue the 8 miles to Río Bravo María campsite.

By the time that we headed out for lunch though, that was already seeming optimistic, and I soon started to realise that it was likely I’d be arriving at the ferry port after the last ferry had already left, and I’d be camping in the vicinity of the port.

This feeling was reinforced quite quickly, when Desiree, liking the look of the Calafate cake in a craft shop, proposed the idea of having coffee and cake first, and then going for lunch straight after. Sounded like my kind of plan.

The cake was delicious, and the boardwalk around the harbour offered up fantastic views of the layout of the town, as it reached upwards from the coast. A short chat with some construction workers informed us that the wooden boards used in the creation of the walkways required to be replaced every 12 years, no doubt maintaining the place was a year round occupation.

We moved on to El Mirador restaurant for lunch, and when the waitress pointed out that there were only 3 items on the menu, and one of them was salmon, it was a fairly easy choice in what to have, for both of us.

It was almost 4 PM, before I finally moved on, but it had been a very pleasant day so far, so I wasn’t regretting not getting back on the road in the morning when the forecast was good.

It was a tough stretch back out of Caleta Tortel, into the wind, and I hadn’t got very far at all, when I passed the Colombian couple from 2 nights before on their way into town.

If I thought that the initial part was tough, I hadn’t seen anything yet. Conditions had worsened when I reached the bottom of the climb over to Puerto Yungay, and the sign at the bottom warned of 20 km of dangerous curves. Sounded fun.

The opening hairpins were unrideable and I was forced to push up what seemed like a steep open boulder field. As the road climbed, the views back down towards the river had virtually disappeared into the gloom.

The next part was direct, steep and narrow, and with the addition of a few cars making their way over the pass, it was a tricky part to navigate, but eventually the road climbed onto a plateau and swept past Lago Caiquen.

Dropping down the other side, I had to manoeuvre my way around a truck that had skidded into the safety barrier, and was now stuck, at times having to battle with my bike to stop it doing the same, thanks to brakes that were struggling in the wet conditions.

Eventually, at almost 9 o’clock, I rolled down the hill towards the ferry port at Puerto Yungay, dragging my bike up a ramp towards a building with a porch which offered some shelter from the rain, while I looked for somewhere to pitch my tent.

Soon after, I heard voices from inside, and then someone opened the door. You can sleep in here if you want, said one of a pair of German cyclists, Fabian and Noah, who were inside a waiting area that was apparently there for the usage of cyclists.

Fabian and Noah had teamed up while waiting, for several days, for the boat, at Candelario Mancilla, perhaps a precursor of things to come for myself as I’d be taking the same boat in the opposite direction. Yes they had the phone number for the ferry company they said, and that was the first I’d had the correct one, it was evidently a very popular service, I didn’t have a booking and now I was stuck a day away from Villa O’Higgins, without any signal. There was a boat scheduled for the day after next, and unless I was very lucky, I wouldn’t be on it.

Day 14: Camping Doña Dora – Puerto Río Tranquilo

Distance: 24.23 miles

Time: 2:55:26

Elevation Gain: 1,811 feet

After I’d set up camp, my phone picked up a little reception, and I received several messages from Desiree, saying that she’d met a Danish cyclist, while she was at the side of the road trying to catch a lift, and he’d told her that there was a campsite in 12 kilometres, so she’d set off towards there, before optimistically putting out her thumb towards a passing vehicle, and had ended up getting out by Lago General Carrera, and was at a campsite, around 10 miles from Puerto Río Tranquilo, and about 13 miles ahead of me.

In the morning, she messaged again to say that she was making for Puerto Río Tranquilo, and that she could let me know if she found anywhere good to say. She also mentioned that she was planning on going kayaking to some marble caves on the lake the next morning, and forwarded me the number. That did sound fun, but what time? I had cycling to do. 6:00 – 9:00 am? Well, I probably wouldn’t be cycling at that time, I supposed…

In my head, the route would soon be gradually dropping to the shores of the lake, and then I’d be ambling along, relaxedly taking in the views from the lakeside. The road, however, had other ideas, with steep climbs on poor terrain de rigueur for the day.

The long gradual downhill never seemed to materialise, and soon I was near the edge of the lake, pausing to take on some fuel and reapply my sun tan lotion in the warm sunshine, I realised I still hadn’t reached the point at which Desiree had camped the night before, and had only just past it, when she messaged again to say she had found some available beds in a dormitory cabin at Camping Río Chirifo.

As I progressed over steep bluffs along the lake-side, I fielded some messages regarding kayaking the next day, and by the time I arrived in Puerto Río Tranquilo, I merely had to complete the formalities.

When I arrived, Desiree was having lunch in the restaurant, Casa Bruja, near the campsite, and her hake dish, Merzula Austral, looked so good, I ordered the same. New meal of the trip time.

After I’d settled into the functional, but slightly less than salubrious, accommodation, we took a trip down to the supermarket, and then paid a visit to a panadería on the way back up the road, where we sampled some berry kuchen, the German word for cake revealing the nationality of historic settlers in the region in the 1930s. The delicious cake was an excellent way to fuel up for our early morning kayak session.

Chile for January

It has not escaped my attention that 2026 will signify a decade since I started writing this blog, and so, I thought it would be a good opportunity to mark the occasion by ticking a fairly significant cycle-touring challenge off my list: namely, the Carretera Austral, or ‘Southern Highway’.

The Carretera Austral is an 800 mile sliver of tarmac and gravel, that cuts through a sparsely populated, and geographically complex, portion of Chile’s Patagonian Lake District. Begun by General Pinochet in 1976, the route was only fully realised in 2000, and links a series of tiny – previously isolated – coastal communities between Puerto Montt in the north, and Villa O’Higgins in the south.

As Villa O’Higgins is a long way from an airport that offers regular commercially-available flights, there is the added complication that I will need to push on farther south, via a combination of ferries and hike-a-bike, to reach a remote Argentinian border post near the popular trekking hub of El Chaltén, before continuing southwards and ultimately crossing back into Chile, ending the trip in Puerto Natales, which, conveniently, offers the dual purpose of providing a means to onward flights, and also acting as the perfect launchpad for visiting one of my longest-serving bucket list destinations, Torres Del Paine National Park.

It would be something of an understatement to say that I am extremely excited about having the opportunity to undertake this adventure, one that I had been contemplating for many years, before seriously considering it for last winter. Then, when I spotted that Pierre – who I cycled with in Vietnam in 2020 – was attempting the route, last year, I was determined to get – not only – some advice about the challenges he had encountered, but also an endorsement that I should do it too…