9. Onto the Carretera Austral

Having pumped up Hannah’s rear tyre fully the night before, we awoke on Lago Yelcho to find it half deflated. After breakfast and breaking camp, we (slightly more efficiently than last time) changed inner tubes, found the tiny leak with the help of our washing bowl, and put a patch on it. We found the baño mentioned previously to be a wooden structure built over a shallow pit and both successfully put it to use without falling in, to our great relief!

We set off later than hoped and soon found the ripio deteriorating. Hannah slipped over properly for the first time, grazing her palms slightly, just in time for a very steep 150m gravel climb. It was impossible to cycle on the loose ripio so we staggered up, Hannah with gloves on. A local with a trailer stopped to offer us a lift and couldn’t believe we wanted to do it ourselves but eventually we persuaded him to carry on. Finally we emerged at the top to find a large bull and some calves sat at the side of the road. Summoning yet more courage we tip-toed past, until finally we were on the flat 5 km into Villa Santa Lucia, our joining point to the Carretera Austral.

We arrived at the village in very cold drizzle and the contrast to previous conditions was enormous. Now on the west side of the Andes we had very clearly crossed a weather divide and swiftly donned trousers and jackets in search of a cafe. Santa Lucia suffered a tragic mud slide in 2018 and the damage was still very evident. It was hard to see where the mud could have come from, the town being so high up, but Chilean flags marked out what we assumed to be the locations of destroyed houses amongst a large area of rubble and earth. It felt like it could have happened yesterday, and was terribly sad to see, knowing the loss of life it caused.

We found a cafe nearby and walked in to a very welcome wood fire, and empanadas ready to be heated up. This, along with fresh berry juice and cake, cheered us up a little, and we started to assess options for the afternoon. The next town, La Junta, lay 69km to the south, with 700m of climbing and potentially some ripio. Although there was a fresh tailwind, getting there looked impossible given we covered only 15 km in the morning. But several wild camp options were available on the way and we both felt good and well fed, so we set off downhill.

The smooth tarmac felt blissful to ride on and soon we were cruising along at 20kmh barely touching the pedals. Even the occasional uphills felt easy and as we descended down the valley of the Rio Frio, the temperature soon climbed enough to remove some layers. The river’s name was clearly derived from its glacial source, the water being a stunning powder blue grey colour, and we could feel the cooler temperatures when passing by it. As we continued down through Park Nacional Corcovado, the km flew by and we began to pass slopes covered in giant rhubarb. Within these, hundreds of frogs could be heard croaking and, as Hannah observed, for all the world sounding like they were playing castanets, clacking away.

We found the first camping option only 2 hours after lunch, Villa Vanguardia, with a lady selling some basic groceries. Hannah went in to buy crisps and a banana whilst Robbie watched the bikes and a large group of turkeys with chicks waddle across the road. The lady’s dog barked at them noisily, which they ignored completely, and soon out popped the lady to feed them. Our legs still feeling ok and the camping area looking a little bleak, we pushed onwards.

2 km later we crossed the border from Los Lagos region into Aysen. Thick drizzle set in and at 4.30pm we stopped under some tall trees for second lunch of cheese, biscuits and banana. With 33 km still to go we didn’t hang around and pressed on, soon arriving at the end of Rio Frio and joining Rio Palena. We passed another wild camp option under a bridge, but this too looked bleak and was supposed to get very cold at night, so we let it go. Soon we started to see a few rafting groups as the river flow increased and eventually crossed over the river via a “golden gate” bridge, much smaller than the real one, but impressive none the less.

With 15km left to go, at 7pm, like a mirage over the brow of yet another hill, a food van appeared at the side of the road advertising fries and drinks. We ordered a large portion of chips and some kiwi juice, and waited whilst the lady kindly filled our water bottles from her house. Wanting a quick stop, we were a little dismayed as she started chopping potatoes, as the fast food was going to take some time. Clearly customers were an unusual event. But there was plenty of daylight left, and 20 minutes later, perfect French fries were worth the wait.

Several chickens were pecking around and with amazement we witnessed the boldest leap into the air and snatch our largest chip! The lady laughed and chased her off. Hoping bird flu wasn’t prevalent we munched on and left at last, energised for the final few hills.

At 9pm we rounded the bend to the first proper camping option since Santa Lucia. Greeted by two very energetic Jack Russells and a more timid border collie, we also met a man who showed us four covered tent areas and the baños. There were no other campers but it looked good enough, and with night drawing in, we didn’t hesitate to heat up some quick pasta with tuna tomato sauce. The shower hut was entirely home-made but quite impressive and blessedly warm.

Clean and fed, we collapsed into bed and listened to the neighbouring cows lowing so loudly they sounded like some wild beasts or even dinosaurs, echoing off the rocky cliffs behind. Our longest day of cycling yet had not been easy, but completing more than 50km in a day now seemed possible if needed, even with some ripio!