Crossing day was bright and with light winds, which we aimed to take advantage of fully. The ripio was undoubtedly tough going, but traffic wasn’t too busy, the air was fresh and horseflies relaxed, and we were boosted by some beautiful wild flower verges and mountain backdrops.
Midway through the morning Robbie heard a howl follows by very angry barking and saw a house dog charging across its garden towards him. Unsure of any fence he stopped abruptly and tried to dismount whilst moving. Unfortunately he caught his right foot on a pannier strap, the bike toppled underneath him and he ended up downward facing dog, back side presented precisely at the oncoming beast. Unable to move he awaited the bite with resignation.
Ten seconds later Hannah arrived in fits of laughter, and the dog safely behind a fence had turned away in scorn at the pitiful site of the perceived threat scrambling around on the ground. Hannah eventually helped Robbie to his feet, and we continued south, pride hurt but nothing more.
Soon we emerged at the upstream end of the mighty Futaleufu River, famed for its white water but here looking quite gentle.
By 1pm we were at the border crossing and rapidly passed through the Argentinian exit post. The Chilean border was on a different scale and large signs informed us of the produce we could under no circumstances import in even the smallest quantity. This included fruit and any animal products, so we set to the last of our tasty cheese and cherries with agusto. The main concern was now fruitcake, and we had been told to declare everything or risk a hefty fine. We duly did so, four armed guards checked every pannier (not too meticulously) and after a few border stamps, we were through. We are delighted to confirm that fruitcake may pass into Chile unimpeded.
Chile welcomed us with silky smooth asphalt and rolling hills down to Futaleufu town, where we soon found a pleasant eco campsite 2 blocks north of the centre: no fire pits or picnic tables, but recycling, organic waste bins and wood fired showers. Tent pitched, we quickly headed into town to do battle with cash machines and phone sim cards. Here the differences were stark: we had cash in 10 minutes and sim cards 20 minutes later, which we installed in a small cafe with mint tea and cake. Futaleufu was a much smarter town than any we’d seen in Argentina, with manicured lawns and rose bushes, and clearly was doing well from the outdoor tourist industry.
Chores done early, we had a look around and went in search of food. Dinner was a disappointment. We found a nice looking resto bar with a reasonable menu, but it turned out half the food was unavailable. Hannah asked if there was anything vegetarian and they suggested falafels, which turned out to be deep-fried chickpea flour. Robbie went for some very bland but enormous meat on chips. All ok but the falafels were absurdly expensive. We knew Hannah staying vegetarian would be difficult in South America but it’s still frustrating when the supermarket next door is brim full of tasty vegetables.
On Tuesday we spent the morning stocking up on groceries. Calories were proving a significant issue for Robbie whose Fitbit suggested he hadn’t burnt fewer than 4000 on any day for two weeks, and appeared to have lost weight. Amazingly we found some protein body mass powder in a pharmacy and decided to give it a try. It was an extra kilo in weight but Hannah nobly offered to carry it on condition it was eaten as quickly as possible. Challenge accepted.
We had avocado and cheese lunch at camp and headed off for the afternoon to start the 76km leg to Villa Santa Lucia. Tarmac continued for longer than expected but soon we were back on ripio just as bad as any in Argentina, and it appeared to be bin day with us leapfrogging a very dusty bin lorry collecting from all the side tracks, making it a tough afternoon.
There was no obvious organised campground available so our trusty ioverlander app suggested a few wild options. The first looked ok but we carried on to the second, a rafting launch point by the river where a changing block was being built. We arrived early evening with no one around, and it was spectacular: a grassy meadow right above the river with access to a beach with trees growing down to the water’s edge. Our first proper wild camping, it felt odd to erect the tent and start cooking: we felt sure someone would come to tell us to clear off, or it would turn out to be invested with rats. But as the sun went down, we were left in complete peace with only the sound of the River Fu. A truly remarkable spot.
On Wednesday morning we took our time getting up and drying off the tent after some showers. Soon after breakfast a raft appeared drifting down river, followed by another, both calmly paddling to shore, and we were greeted by two friendly raft guides. Some men started working on the raft building above and a couple of trucks arrived with more guides. Our peace shattered, we quickly moved our tent out of the way as more rafts arrived followed by a minibus of raft tourists. They were very friendly and asked if we were bike rafting, which sounds amazing, and would make progress down river much faster.
It was time to move on and we spent the morning oggling the rafters and canoeists as they took on the rapids alongside our route. Early into the day, Robbie noticed that in bottom gear he appeared to have another cog exposed below the others. An extra low gear! For how long he’d been cycling without this hear we had know idea but it’s discovery was very welcome. A short stop by the road side to tighten the gear cable did the trick and Robbie could now enjoy pedalling uphill at 6 kmh rather than the frustratingly tough 7 kmh!
The river was spectacular surrounded by towering mountains, and as we headed south, it gradually opened out until we reached Puerto Ramirez and sought a lunch spot. Hannah found a good one by a stream ideal for refilling water and we tucked in to cherries, cheese and bread. We noticed a curious bee-like fly, blue with orange fur, buzzing around us but assumed it was just another bumble bee.
That afternoon our route turned north for a while and then west as we followed a large river meander. At last we came out on the southeast shore of Lago Yelcho. We had been followed throughout by the strange bee fly which finally announced itself as a type of horsefly by biting Hannah solidly on the arm. Hannah fought back but this enormous fly was clad in slap-proof armour and had the utmost tenacity, unwilling to give up without blood until several miles later. Hannah was finding cycling strangely hard going too, until at last we came to our second wild camp spot of the week, nicknamed beach paradise by ioverlander. Only then did we discover the slow puncture that had set in on Hannah’s rear tyre however many km previously.
The beach spot was beautiful and this time shared with several others. We quickly got the tent up and then braved the cool lake waters to take a sorely needed but very quick wash. Just as a half naked Robbie dipped his toe in the water, one of the turbo horseflies reappeared and targeted Robbie’s bright white shivering torso. Torn between icy lake and veracious fly, the lake won, and Robbie was in and out in a flash. Racing back to his sandals, the unsuspecting fly was annihilated with a pop between left and right shoe, and Robbie rushed back to warm up by the tent.
That evening we met a couple of interesting fellow campers: a motor biker from Boston managed to get his bike up the beach to a spot further down and we compared pedal to engine travel. Later a South African / German couple pitched opposite us with their car and we had a good chat. They showed us a very clever wood-burning camp stove that gave off a perfect cooking flame with just a few twigs. A local señora stopped by to collect £2 each in fees: it seemed she owned the beach, and told us about a “baño” we should use nearby. We decided to leave that treat for the morning and watched the shadows climb up the hills on the opposite lake shore before bed.
Pedalling_Patagonia 