Tuesday, 25th Oct.
Today was a wild one. I slept well in the the bunk-house Refugio in Patti’s garden campsite but still woke up stiff and aching from the roads the day before. On the advice of some Brazilian riders I’d met back neat Coyhaique I was preparing for at least three days without seeing a shop so I spent the morning cooking up a big breakfast and some egg-fried rice to carry with. I’d been contemplating spending another day here to get over the aches but the rain that was forecast never came and it was a great day to get on the road. Just as I was ready to go Patti asked where I was headed, I told her Villa O’Higgins and beyond into Argentina. She paused, looked at me, and asked whether I was sure the border was open. I had just assumed it was, there were no restrictions on entry any more to either country and I hadn’t heard anything to suggest that they would be closed.
“Before you leave town, go check with the Carabineros about the border” she suggested. I cycled across the plaza to the police compound and asked the young officer at the desk. “Closed for public health reasons until further notice” was his reply – I had him type it into my phone translator so I was sure. I was a bit stunned, how could I have got this far, having shared my plans with so many travellers and locals alike and not heard about this? It wasn’t just the O’Higgins border, but a handful of the small crossings in the area. The nearest open border was at Chile Chico, a day and a half’s ride back the way I’d come and then the same again eastward along Lago General Carrera. It meant a total re-evaluation of the trip, with much more time on the Argentinian plaines that I had expected. I had to sit and think about this one.
I was in the plaza making some calls and trying to find some resources to further confirm the closure when I got talking to a chef from one of the nearby hotels on the Rio Baker. He told me not to listen to the police, “they are crazy”, and that he’d just come from O’Higgins and it was open. This just added to my confusion so I found the local municipal office and asked there. I must have had good timing, the receptionist just looked at the man standing next to me at the desk, he made a few calls right there and then and told me that, yes, it was indeed still shut due to the pandemic. I rode back up past Patti’s and told her. She further explained that it was because the smaller borders didn’t have designated border police, only the local Carabineros; who I can only assume don’t have the authority to check covid vaccination status.
I deliberated; head back north now or continue south just to return? I had no desire to go to O’Higgins just for the sake of it but I had planned on a detour to the interesting looking village of Tortel in the same direction. I started riding back north thinking that to be the best option, just get to Argentina and continue the journey south, but I got to the first corner and paused; something didn’t feel right. It felt like I was rushing with no real purpose. I’d come all this way and didn’t want to just end the journey down Carretera Austral there and then. I was talking to myself: “when else would I ever come down this way? Slow down. What is the purpose of this trip, just to get to the end?”
I spoke to some friends who were a couple of days ahead of me to let them know the news. They told me that the road condition improved south of Cochrane as hardly any traffic goes that way and that the scenery was remarkable. This and the draw towards seeing Tortel was enough to have me turn around and continue south. I’d have to backtrack eventually but it’d be a symbolic end to the Chilean part of the road, and not a hasty retreat.
It was 2pm by now, I figured I’d get 50 or 60 kilometres done and once I got riding all the aches of the morning disappeared, I felt good and strong and began on the desolate but smooth dirt road to the south. Some near mountains kept me company for much of the way and I passed a couple of small lakes. A handful of vehicles passed and I put on a podcast and cruised along in great spirits. To keep my phone charged I attached it to the dynamo attached to my front wheel. The only problem I’d been having was making sure the connections stayed firm as they would sometimes get rattled out and I’d be unknowingly draining battery. So today, for the first time, I fastened my phone on top of my handlebar bag using the single strap that held it closed. For the first three hours, no problems. Hour four, soon after I’d put my headphones away but still kept the phone where it was, I stopped at the top of a hill to take a photo only to look down and see the charging cable hanging free, no phone in sight.
I looked around, checked my pockets and bags, nothing. While doing this I made my second biggest mistake of the day, I missed the first two cars going in either direction. If I’d spoken to either driver I might have had a better chance of finding it but after riding back 5km to where I took the last photo, and then back again scanning the sides of the road, no sign whatsoever. It was evening by now and I’d ridden an extra 10km. I remembered seeing a campsite on the map at the next river confluence so rode a fast descent down to the junction and took a 4km track off the main road. At the end of the track was an opening on the banks of a small river that is one of the most beautiful campsites I’d ever seen. I was met by a man in blue overalls, with more than a few teeth missing, who walked me down to a shelter in a field surrounded by a wide river valley and mountains topped with glacial fields, the ice blue breaking out through the snow cover. Sheep and tiny lambs wandered around in the next field and a excitable young dog kept me company while I pitched my tent. A separate shelter had a fire pit, dry wood and some tree stumps to sit on. I heated up the rice, made a hot chocolate and sat by the fire thinking about the day and what my next move might be.
Austral Spring 