Wed 12th, Oct
The glacier I could see from my little shed had a trail up towards it through the national park. After a breakfast of scrambled eggs and bread toasted on a stick precariously balanced over the fire I packed and left my panniers in one of the buildings. I rode the 1000m to the trailhead on an unloaded bike and locked it at a ranger’s hut.
Once over a wooden suspension bridge above the rapids, crashing down from the glacier’s meltwater, I took the windy climb for 3.5km up to the viewpoint. The trail was narrow and overgrown, still the temperate rain forest felt like tropical jungle, just colder. Thick roots and creepers mix with ferns and mosses and streams spill down rock faces into the path, the air thick with humidity.
I reached the viewpoint just in time, within 10 minutes a cloud had swept in up the valley and obscured the glacier, still a kilometre away in the distance. The Ventisquero Glacier hangs at the top of a vertical cliff in a deep V between peaks. From the overhang spill two thin waterfalls that whip and fray in the wind. By the time the water reaches the bottom of the cliff it has turned to snow and lands in a drift, mirroring the triangle of ice above. I had time to take a few photos and eat some of yesterday’s leftovers at the viewpoint before the cloud came in and started dropping huge snowflakes into the forest. The walk down was surreal with flurries coming through the canopy and the quietness that snowfall brings.
Down in the valley the snow had turned to rain but by the time I got back to the campsite the sun was breaking through so I got a move on towards the mountains. I made the mistake of sacrificing lunch in order to get some distance covered, this caught up with me when a foreboding road sign came into view: steep winding roads, next 5km. I cracked a can of tuna, drenched a piece of bread in olive oil and got some calories in me as a few cars went up the hill to the first hairpin bend.
It was a big climb, about 600m vertical on dirt road with steep corners, but I got into a good rhythm and could rest a little on the straights. On the right-hand turns I had to switch to the opposite side of the road to avoid the impossible corkscrew on the inside. Up and up through the rainforest, gaps in the trees gave a view down into the valley where small clouds were trapped. Towards the top I began to pass piles of snow on the side of the road and soon more was coming form the sky. Not the big soft flakes from this morning but hard ice pellets that collected in the contours of my bags. I was producing enough body-heat from the climb to not feel the cold, even my gloveless hands were comfortable as I pedalled into the ice. The road widened up and the opposite side became a lane of freshly laid concrete paving, I moved over to that side and picked up some speed as I approached the plateau. Cresting over the top gave a spectacular view of the next mountain over and in a brief moment of clear skies I changed my layers and prepared for a cold descent. I snapped a couple of pics but the batteries were struggling in the cold and the camera shut down. It was getting quite late in the day and I was keen to get back to lower altitude before the temperature dropped any more.
The road down was intense. I was up to 50kmph for much the way on the smooth concrete. It was the smoothest road I’d seen so far and at times I was concerned it would be too slick with the amount of water running across it. I lost feeling in my hands and the snow that soon turned back to rain stung my face and pushed through all the gaps in my waterproofs. Glad to be lower down but still with no idea where I would shelter for the night I stopped at a junction to take stock of my options; turn off course towards the nearest town 35km away at sea level, or continue along the mountain road.
The next 130km along the Careterra looked particularly remote so I played it safe and headed towards Puerto Cisnes where I could restock on food. At this rate I would still be riding in the dark by the time I got there, I wasn’t keen on the idea as I was already soaked-through and cold. Following the cliffs down the valley I spotted a turn off that went down to the bank of the Río Cisnes. The clouds had lifted temporarily and I was greeted with sandy beach in the sun, cold green water flowing by and round a bend. A kingfisher flew by, wings almost touching the surface. There were patches of bushes and trees giving cover to soft ground, hidden from the road I set up camp. I went to explore the beach but the freezing rain came back so I set in for the night, put on layers of dry clothes and cooked a huge pot of lentils. Before it was fully dark I had lay down and fallen asleep, straight through for eleven hours.
Austral Spring 