Distance: 41.38 miles

Time: 6:39

Elevation Gain: 2,293 feet

For those who read my blog about my trip to Norway in the summer, you will no doubt remember that I had a slight challenge with regards some tent poles being damaged in a storm. Well, after many months without contact, I received an email from Big Agnes to say that they would like to send me some poles so that I could get my tent back in action!

Thankfully, they arrived at the end of November, so I was able to bring the Copper Spur on this trip, along with a lot of duct tape, just in case…

After a reasonable night in the tent, despite the hard, stony, terrain it was pitched on, I slowly roused and took my stove and cooking kit down to one of the lakeside shelters that had now been vacated by some early leaving campers. Pablo joined me and started boiling some water for some of the many packs of freeze dried semolina that they had been gifted for the trip. A thoughtful gift until you consider the extra weight of carrying 50 food pouches around on your bike.

Marlen had a bit of a fever and had been in the tent for around 12 hours at this point, but she did manage to take on a little food before promptly dropping back off to sleep. I was a little concerned that she wouldn’t be feeling fit enough to ride, today, but Pablo still seemed to be readying to go, so I followed suit.

It sounded like Pablo and Marlen’s plan was to try to get to Chaiten, 20 miles away, and find a hotel or Cabaña to try and get some recovery. Seeing as the typical mileages I’d been planning around were double that, I realised that I should really push on to El Amarillo, 15 miles farther on, having first made sure that Pablo and Marlen got to Chaiten without a hitch.

Eventually, back on the road, at 12:30, the rough track along the lake continued, before climbing up steeply to a bridge over the Ríos Rayas, in what felt like a fabulously remote area.

First one cyclist, and then a pair of cyclists, passed going the other way, before a trio of large trucks threw up a massive dust cloud that took some time to settle, forcing us to stop.

At long last, the tarmac returned, and it felt magical, smooth and fast, and shortly afterwards, I had phone signal for the first time since Hornopirén.

Soon, the sea came into view, as we dropped towards the coast at Santa Barbara, before instantly turning back inland and grinding up a severe climb onto a plateau backed by stunning views of Volcan Chaiten, before we enjoyed one last descent to Chaiten.

The small town seemed deserted, and many places were closed, but then we found a small restaurant open, and it was excellent, with friendly staff and huge portions, for what would be our first proper meal since the pasta we’d had in Hornopirén two days prior.

It had been very enjoyable riding with Pablo and Marlen, but Marlen’s trip was to finish in Balmaceda, near Coyhaique, in about the same timeframe as I was hoping to reach El Chaltén, which was double the distance. Pablo would be continuing south afterwards, with some friends.

As we stepped outside, it started to rain, which didn’t make parting ways any easier as Pablo and Marlen pedalled the short distance to, what looked like, a very appealing cabaña, whereas I looked at the grey skies and made for the supermarket, before crossing the bridge over the Río Blanco – which signified the edge of Chaitén – and started off in the direction of El Amarillo, quickly stopping to put on my waterproofs. It was a pleasant cycle along flat tarmac roads, through fields backed by mountains, the only issue, in fact, was the rain.

Until a team of dogs in high spirits departed a farm up ahead, that was, with two racing away up the road to get in front of me, and the rest chasing me from behind, easily covering the short distance. I veered all the way over to the far shoulder and pedalled as fast as I could, but the dogs that had pushed ahead now came rushing across the road and were in a direct collision course with my bike, until I feinted in their direction, which caused the lead dog to pause just long enough for me to get by, and with a change up of the gears, I was gone.

After covering the 15 miles to El Amarillo, I was thoroughly damp, and with the rain not abating, I was very keen to avoid camping, so I checked out all of the locations where Cabañas were marked on the map, but they were all either closed or full. So I made for the campsite at the end of the road, in Parque Pumalin, crestfallen to see that the campsite areas all appeared to be many kilometres upriver, and beyond a road closed barrier which could fortunately easily be circumvented on a bike.

So, passing many large grassy areas en route, I struggled up the rough track to El Grande camping area, with the signposted 5 km, actually 6, and feeling like much more. On arriving at the large open grassy area, I was pleased to see an open toilet block and a scattering of other campsite users, as I readied myself to set up camp in the now torrential downpour.

It was nearly ten o’clock by the time I was ready to hide myself away inside the tent, cooking up a large pan of lentils and tuna in the vestibule, the tent mercifully doing a good job of keeping out the deluge from above.