From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

Guest writer: Heather Keachie

It's been almost two weeks since I've been riding with Sara and Sébastien. Everything that you've read in their blog is true, and it's a pretty accurate description of their trip. But they sometimes leave stuff out. A lot of the day-to-day stuff doesn't make it into the blog and so I thought I'd take this opportunity to tell you a few short stories from my point of view.

The Rain

The life of a cyclo-voyageur is not as glamourous as you might have first imagined. Some days it rains. Since leaving, we have had quite a few days of rain. Tuesday morning, we were a day behind the original schedule. We had to leave, and it was pouring rain. Pffft, you think, what's a little rain! It rains here all the time. Rain for a cyclo-voyageur is different. First, you have to think about all your stuff. Are my bags waterproof enough? Will the bread we bought for lunch survive? Then, what to wear. Sara and Seb have high tech stuff, but I tried to come on the cheap. Borrowed rain pants and a rain jacket from Canadian Tire. The sleeves leak. They have rain boots, but I don't and wet socks are no fun, no matter how scenic the landscape. Pictures were taken – I looked ridiculous but when we arrived that night my feet were mostly dry.

Sebastien is always the optimist – the rain, it's clearing up, he says. I believed him at first, and now Sara and I are both sceptical. That same afternoon Sebastien had a flat tire (the second since I arrived). Practically no flat tires until I came, and now they been having a few equipment problems. Well, after 18000 km, the tires have lived a good life and don't owe them anything. The rain had just let up a little, and we stopped for a quick snack break. Just as we were about to get going again, Seb's back wheel was flat. It takes about half an hour to change a flat, and naturally, by the time we finished, the rain had started again.

Eh oui, that's a day in the life of a cyclo-voyageur.

Fishing Trips

Not all the good stories are about bikes. Two nights ago, we decided to camp – second night in a row of bush camping. We landed a sweet spot. By a winding river, and still in sight of the famous Lenin Volcano, by whose foot we camped the night before (well represented in pictures, btw). It was a little close to the road, and we weren't sure we could really camp there, but there were no signs posted. Better to beg for foregiveness than ask permission, right? Prescient words, as you will see.

We stopped earlish, and set up the tent around 7. Sébastien decided the moment was right to break out the retractable fishing pole that they had been schlepping around in their bags since Vancouver. Not one fish caught to date. Seth and Kirsten (from Santiago) had told us that fishing without a licence is generally no problem in Chile, but that in Argentina we should be careful since they can be quite sticky. First, the set up. The line needed to be set and the lure attached. Fortuntately for Sébastien, Sara's patience with those kinds of details is much greater than his. He freely admitted that the whole operation would not have been possible with his “assistant.” Then, the essay. The reel is broken, and doesn't work very well, which means that it is hard to cast and hard to reel in the line. After much discussion and some studying of the instructions, we decided on a lure and on the appropriate way to cast. First time out,  stuck in the weeds by the side of the river. Then the bobber got disloged and started to float away downstream. Undaunted, Sébastien handed me the pole and lept along the river bank, stopping only to pick up a long stick. The bobber was retrieved just in time, and no one fell into the water. We could see the the trouts jumping out of the water just downstream of us, mocking.

In the end, no trout were caught, and the whole fishing attempt was abruptly ended when the lure got caught in the tree. No amount of jumping, running, or waving around with sticks would disentangle it. And so we abandoned our dreams of fresh fish for dinner, and happily cooked pasta on the camping stove. Another time perhaps?

The next morning as we were packing up, an official looking car stopped by the road and two men began walking towards us. Did you spent the night here? they asked. Clearly we had. Camping is not allowed next to any of the rivers in Argentina, they said. We apologized, saying that we didn't know and hadn't seen any signs. While we spoke with one of the men, the other was touring our campsite, paying close attention to the river bank. Finding nothing, he walked back to towards us. Oh well, he said, that 's ok. Don't worry. You're not here to fish though, right? Sara answered: oh no, mostly definitely not.

The food

Camping, you say? Travelling by bike, you say? You must eat a lot of pasta and rice – two things that pack light, fill you up, and can be cooked relatively quickly on a camping stove. Well, you're right – but only by half. When we're on the road, we often have pasta for dinner. But when we're not camping, it's wonderful to be able to cook a little something different. Sébastien is a quite a good cook, and willing to make the best with the ingredients available. And of course, as you already know, this is prime wine country.

On Easter Island, we had access to the kitchen (barely; but that's a story for another time...) and we cooked every night. In Santiago, we cooked a ratatouille for Seth and Kirsten. I made a strawberry tart, pie crust from scratch. In Villarica we had two nights with a kitchen, and we made pancakes and steak (different meals, natch). We also made quiche. Not our best attempt since the oven didn't work very well. The quiche took forever to cook and then (my) crust got burnt. And we ran out of gas for the oven and the hot water.

We're in San Martin de Los Andes now. The night before yesterday we went out for a parilla – a kind of barbeque that is served at the table with all different cuts of meat. It was the only thing that kept us motivated yesterday, through 70 km of headwind. (Well, that and a hot shower!). Yesterday afternoon we met some French backpackers in the grocery store and we invited them over for dinner. We made gratin dauphinois with grilled red pepers and a tossed green salad. They brought dessert. And wine.

Up next

We're heading out tomorrow morning (sore legs and potential hangovers notwithstanding) to do the Seven Lakes Road. Apparently very beautiful. And the first couple of days we'll be in the forest – sheltered from the wind, says Sebastien. Vamos a ver!

Take 3 somewhat tired cyclists who decided that they're not going to make it to the next town to find four walls and a roof to sleep under. Well they had decided to camp that night anyway.

Fill their panniers with non perishable food like pasta and rice, and a decent ready-to-serve tomato sauce.

Have them bike all day.

When they start to get tired – but not too tired – have them look for a good place to camp. The ideal location: a little flat ground, sheltered from the road and from other people, close to water to wash, cook and filter, and with a nice view of a volcano, or perhaps a lush valley. The ideal weather: blue sky and a warm sun.

And then the camping begins: pitch the tent, arrange the panniers inside, filter water to drink and cook with, shower in the river before the sun goes down and the temperature plummets, cook dinner on the little camping stove, eat and then go to bed. There's lots to do, and you have to bear in mind that the earlier the cyclists can stop, the better the chance that they will be able to get it all done without getting annoyed, rushed, or cold.

Don't forget to add a pinch of joie de vivre, good spirits, some optimism, stories, and laughs, each carefully mixed in the right proportions.

We tried out this recipe on Friday, between Victoria and Villarica. [Trans. note: In order to improve a little on this recipe, Sara and Sébastien surprised Heather with a bottle of wine that they had secretly carried with them all day! Wine tends to make all recipes better, including this one, and especially considering not all the conditions were entirely ideal... warm temperatures have been a rarity.] Now we're about to cross over the Andes and head back into Argentina, land of good steak!

Sara

It's been 5 days now since we've been back on the bikes.

On Sunday, Seth showed us what he had done to fix our panniers (thanks again, Seth!). We helped Heather organize her stuff and sort through what she absolutely needed to bring with her. She had only one pannier for the front and so we also managed to cobble together a bag tied to the other side of the front rack to balance out the weight. We attached the lights and the rearview mirror, and we bought her a bike computer as a welcome-to-the-team-“Pladusol” present.

Monday we took us bus 500 km south. Lots of cyclists had told us that it wasn't worth it to bike that section, and that it was better to take a rest. And this head start means that Heather can bike with us all the way to Puerto Montt, where she'll be able to catch a bus back to Santiago, and then Toronto. We arrived late that night in Los Angeles, and it was raining. It took us a little while to find a place to stay.

Tuesday, back on the bikes, under the rain. Heather started off ahead, while we took our time to save our muscles. And in the afternoon, the old team once again took the lead, and we all stopped for a cyclist-sized snack.

On Wednesday, we had mostly good weather, some rain. We had some trouble finding a decent place to sleep. We were surprised by how cold it is here. At night the temperature dropped almost to zero and we didn't even bother looking for a place to camp.

Thursday was a big day: 70 km with a headwind. But the morale remained high!

Cycling with another person, and especially Heather, has given us energy and a renewed perspective on the trip. She sees things that we don't notice anymore and points them out to us. She stayed optimistic even when it took us an hour and a half to find a place to sleep. She thought up some different lunch possibilities too, to switch things up a bit.

Sharing this trip and all our experiences over the past 18 months has made us realize how much we have accomplished, discovered, seen or refused to see. We know we are lucky to be here, although we don't really like being called lucky, since we really made our own luck when it came to this trip. We have changed a lot, and our perspective on the world has been broadened.

Sara

A week without news... it's because we were enjoying ourselves on Easter Island. Enjoying what exactly? The white sand beaches? No, there's only one beach. The warm sub-equatorial sun perhaps? Not so much, since out of the 7 days we were on the island, we only had sun for 2 of them. But that didn't stop us from exploring the whole island and from going on some super hikes – 25 km one day! But none of our clothes properly dried out the whole time we were there, and Heather managed to get quite a sunburn – from all the rain, naturally.

Seriously though, the Moai – the stone statues the island is famous for – really were both mysterious and impressive, and we don't regret a moment having gone. We spent the week making the most of the island and the islander life. Easter Island depends on tourism, but we found that the locals were not always very welcoming (not exactly surprising considering their little island is overrun with more than 300 tourists a day) and that the prices were a least 3 times as high as on the continent. Sara found that the Polynesian culture of the island was similar to that of the Maoris of New Zealand.

At our hotel we met Dave, an American who was teaching English in Santiago. We talked a lot with him and ended up splitting the cost of the rental car for our last day on the island. There was much laughter and general merriment.

The island is relatively small and almost everything is accessible on foot. We saw the quarry where the maoi hats were hewn out of red stone, and the bigger quarry where the statues themselves were carved before being carted (either upright or laying down, depending on the theory) to their platforms. We also visited some of the caves where the original inhabitants of the island had been living in when the first Europeans arrived, and some of the craters where they grew food, sheltered from the incessant winds.

Most of the statues are in pieces, having been knocked down several centuries ago, and they are eroding, slowly disappearing into the earth. Those that have been restored seem better able to withstand the weather. The inhabitants of the island are also losing their culture, not due to erosion, but to the constant influx of tourists, the newest conquistadors to arrive on the island. There are quite a number of Europeans, particularly French, who have come to run tourism businesses on the island.

Our final impressions of Easter Island? If you are in Chile, don't hesitate to go. It's another world out there in the middle of the Pacific and the culture is really interesting. Don't forget that everything there is negotiable – souvenirs, lodgings, and especially access to a kitchen, which considerably lowers the price of the visit. But if you're in France, or Canada, we don't necessarily recommend making a special trip. [Trans. note: from what Sara and Sébastien have told me – and you can check out the pictures for yourselves – the Galapagos Islands were much more spectacular and well worth a special trip].

Sara & Sébastien

This trip is outside the scope of the Association Planète Durable et Solidaire. But we will use the site to keep you updated on all our news and adventures.

We stayed three days in Vina del Mar with Vanina and her daughers, who were excellent hosts. After saying goodbye to them we headed towards Santiago. We ran into trouble right away – no bikes on the highway and there was no alternate road to take. Most of the highways in Chile allow bikes – I say most, because this one definitely did not! We spent quite a while looking for a different route, but in the end we got on the highway anyway. We weren't on it long before we were stopped by a official highway patrol. We explained our situation, and they let us continue on the highway... continue straight to the next exit that is. Cheers, thanks!

After 40 km on a country road, we had to get on the highway again, luckily one that allowed cyclists. We camped by a service station, with bathrooms and most importantly, running water!

The next morning we had two new problems: two tunnels ahead, no bikes allowed. But the Chileans had it all figured out. We put our bikes in front of the cameras and an "Assistencia" car came to pick us up and take us and our bikes through the tunnel. Impressive!

By the time we got to Santiago we were, understandably, a little tired. But there was one more obstacle to overcome. The Santiago buses would have nothing of us two cyclotourists and would cut us off regularly. Sébastien quickly reverted back to his old Parisian reflexes, but I had a little more trouble.

We finally made to Seth and Kirsten's, an American couple who've settled in Chile for a while. They're warmshowers members, and they were both warm and welcoming. They offered us everything a cyclist could need!

We've been in Santiago since Monday now, and we've been busy. We had two microfinance meetings, saw a little of downtown, and fixed my back wheel that was still making noise (it was the free wheel!). We were also able to use Seth's sewing machine to fix a couple of things, we changed quite a few things on the bikes (the cassette, a gear wheel, and the chain – after more than 18000 km!),  we put together a package to send back to France, and we cleaned our panniers. The week flew by, and our hosts were super helpful. Seth wasn't working and he was happy to help us out. We really appreciated it!

Heather arrives this morning, my friend from Canada and the translator of our English blog. Tomorrow we're all going to Easter Island, which you can only get to from Chile and Tahiti. We'll be back on our bikes in a week, and all three of us will head South to Patagonia.

Sara