There's nothing like getting into a damp wetsuit on a cold drizzly morning, looking out onto a mint-green glacial river that you will probably end up in. Whilst Joan and I were being given the talk from our saftey kayakers, Catherine was being told that if she wasn't rafting but still wanted to stay at the nice warm lodge for the day, she would have to drive the crappy van there herself. This was possibly more dangerous than the rafting because the terrain was muddy, and sometimes near vertical, and they had replaced the gear stick with a big nail. After a confident wave and a sudden stall in front of the owner, she got there safely enough and spent a nice day by a fire reading her book and drinking hot chocolates with a kitten on her lap.
On the river, we began our saftey briefing from Santiago, our guide from Peru. He said that the river was higher than normal because of the recent rainfall and would therefore be faster too. We were told that if we fell out, we would be rescued by the safety kayakers, but if it happened in the middle of a rapid, this might not be possible until the next calm water, so we just had to 'stay calm', face downstream and 'keep your legs up'. Our first major rapid was called 'Asleep At The Wheel' and was a class IV+. We flipped almost immediately and went upside down into the raging water. The river was a freezing foaming watery torrent and staying calm was much harder in practice. When we turned to face downstream it turned out that for this rapid, the 'next calm water' was behind another class IV rapid. We can safely say that the swimming the rapids of the Futaleufu is even more exciting that doing it in a boat. We were all eventually expertly rescued and could face the rest of the trip knowing that nothing could be scarier, so we had an amazing day with near constant rapids, and during the quieter bits you could jump off the rocks and float down the river in your lifejacket. All of this was down a stunning stretch of river surrounded by dense rainforest and jagged mountins covered in snow. One of the best days so far. After spending the day with Joan on the river we found out that our routes and schedules were more or less the same so we agreed to cycle together for a while, without being too precious about waiting for one another if we got a late start or wanted to change plans en route. Luckily for us, Joan is good company, a good cook, and is fanatically obsessed with Monty Python, particulary the Four Yorkshireman sketch.We camped in the garden of the rafting lodge and set off early the next morning after a night of yet more constant rain. After just one kilometer from the lodge however, a huge landslide had taken out a 30m section of the road, and had left it piled high with rocks and mud, trees, and a brand new river. This was the only way south without a major detour via Argentina again, so after picking the safest route, we had carry the bikes and bags barefoot through the mudslide. This took nearly two hours as the mud was up to our knees and the stones were pretty sharp. The whole thing was pretty unstable still as it was all so new, which made trying to find the same route each time nearly impossible. Despite needing about 10 trips back and forth, at least it was possible to do this with a bike; cars had to either wait for the earth-moving equipment from the next town or drive back to Argentina. Losers. Sadly the weather just got worse and worse as we continued on and the road was peppered with rocks from the cliffs, fallen trees, and lots of water. Unfortunately, the pet labrador from the rafting lodge decided to follow us for over 20km too, despite us trying to shoo her away. In the end we had to ask someone at the next village to tie her up and take her back the following day. Dogs out here love a road trip and ropes couldn't hold her ... another km down the road she was back again. They eventually tied her with an even bigger rope and that was the last we saw of her. We also found out that much of our 'waterproof' gear was not actually waterproof. I shall be writing letters to all of these companies: North Face, Mountain Equipment, Sealskinz, Merrel, Garmont and Lightwave - shame on you. After just 38km, our shortest day yet without a planned stop, we arrived at a fishing lodge by Lago Yelcho and asked to stay the night. The couple that ran it couldn't have been nicer and even lit a huge fire in their smoking shed so that all of our gear could dry. We threw everything over the rafters; tents, sleeping backs, rucksacks and clothes, and Alfredo kept the fire burning all night. The sky cleared in time for a beautiful sunset and they even had a flowering bush by the livingroom window that hummingbirds came to feed from.
The next morning we left the fishing lodge with their dog and kitten in tow. I lost sight of them after a km or so but we later found out that they had actually tried to follow us for some miles and were missing for about 4 hours. Pets love cyclists.
After all of the rain, water was literally pouring off the mountain sides onto the road and made a spectacular journey to Santa Lucia, where we left Juan to get part of his trailer welded. We had finally joined the Carretera Austral, the extreme southern end of the Pan American Highway that will take us past the Patagonian icefields to Villa O higgins, where we cross into Argentina via 'the back door'. The day was overcast so we lost some of the more spectacular mountain scenery but the road itself follows many wild rivers, forests overgrown with moss, and shivering cows.
We arrived in La Junta, a 'gas-station-town' and camped in someone's garden (we asked first). We were joined by a group of five other cycle tourers, four Chilenos and a Polako, also heading south. They were all great and we watched as they tried to repair one bike after a drop into a large pothole in the road. His rear rack had been bent into the wheel and had ripped out a quarter of his spokes. They had to completely re-build the wheel which was quite an achievement in a dark muddy garden. A bigger achievement was Joan finally joining us again at about 10pm after riding the same pot-holed route in the dark with just his head torch to light his way. It was at this campsite that Catherine considered throwing in the rest of the trip for a parrot-kitten that adopted her. Even the owners asked us to take her with us but we didn't have a spare helmet, so we had to leave her. Bizarrely, at night in La Junta, the horses take to the streets.
Expecting wet weather in Queulat park, we were surprised to start with beautiful weather as we skirted the sound early the next morning. Joan had even suggested it may be a 'shorts day' so we optimistically changed in preparation for a sunny cycle. Later on, after nearly 90km of driving rain, misty rainforests and freezing glacier-influenced temperatures, Joan conceded that it may not have been 'a shorts day' after all. Catherine suggested that it was like cycling in a fridge; Joan said at least it doesn't rain in a fridge. We had however learned our lessons from 2 days earlier and it was better to get soaked in as little clothing as possible so that you have less to dry later, and more warm dry clothes to put on when it finally stops raining.
The whole experience wouldn't have been the same without the rain though, and even the steep 500m climb towards the glaciers, via 18 hairpin bends on a muddy loose gravel track was a highlight of the day. Atmospheric and stunning.
We finished this leg of the trip with an optimistically large day of over 130km of ripio road with some paved sections. Needless to say we were still on the road in the evening, the light was fading and we were not quite at the city of Coyhaique. We flagged down a passing truck to carry us and the bikes some of the remaining distance. The dirver not only drove us to his village but went miles out of his way to take us to the door of our hospedaje. He had even asked if we wanted to stay for free at his place - what a lovely guy. I still feel bad about having to rely on lifts but we still did over 90km that day and we hadn't had a complete a rest day since Bariloche (excuses over). We met up again with Joan in Coyhaique as his trailer had finally died, so he caught a bus halfway along the final leg. He commented that the city might not be the promised land that we had created in our minds. It was a bit of a moneypit and even our hostel had a sign on the wall itemising the 'extra' charges such as: filling up water bottles from the tap, each use of the microwave, and use of plates. Oh dear.
We finished this leg of the trip with an optimistically large day of over 130km of ripio road with some paved sections. Needless to say we were still on the road in the evening, the light was fading and we were not quite at the city of Coyhaique. We flagged down a passing truck to carry us and the bikes some of the remaining distance. The dirver not only drove us to his village but went miles out of his way to take us to the door of our hospedaje. He had even asked if we wanted to stay for free at his place - what a lovely guy. I still feel bad about having to rely on lifts but we still did over 90km that day and we hadn't had a complete a rest day since Bariloche (excuses over). We met up again with Joan in Coyhaique as his trailer had finally died, so he caught a bus halfway along the final leg. He commented that the city might not be the promised land that we had created in our minds. It was a bit of a moneypit and even our hostel had a sign on the wall itemising the 'extra' charges such as: filling up water bottles from the tap, each use of the microwave, and use of plates. Oh dear.
Day 36: Futaleufu to Lago Yelcho - 38km
Day 37: Lago Yelcho to La Junta - 80km
Day 38: La Junta to Puyuhuapi - 44km
Day 39: Puyuhuapi to Villa Amengual - 88km
Day 40: Villa Amengual to Coyhaique - 93km
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