From Anchorage to Ushuaia by Bike

For the last few weeks we have shared many unforgeable moments with other cyclo-tourists. Heather, of course, who has been traveling with us since November; and also Rebekka and Urban, Swiss couple that we have frequently met up with; Thomas and Julie, the couple from New Zealand; Ashlie from Canada; Sean from Ireland; Elodie and Sylvain, the French couple on a tandem; Martin from New Zealand; Benjamin and Alejandra, a French-Chilean couple also on a tandem who helped us out a lot when we had problems with Sara's bike in Villa Cerro Castillo; and Denis from France. In Cochrane we met Arnaud and Guillaume, quite coincidentally, who are from the Jura, where I grew up. They are on a six month tour of South America, after already having biked through Europe and Asia. Meeting all these people has helped us a lot – sharing information, encouraging each other, splitting accommodations, and of course, having a good time.

There were about a dozen of us cyclo-tourists all in the same hostel in Villa O'Higgins, waiting for the boat. Even Seth and Kirsten were there, the American cyclo-tourists we stayed with in Santiago de Chile. The boat was delayed one day because of the strong winds on the lake. The next morning, after biking the last seven kilometers of the Carretera Austral all together, we got on the ferry for three hours of rough water across Lake O'Higgins. We went through the Chilean customs on the other side, in Candelario Mancilla. The unique thing about this border crossing – the reason we wanted to do it – is that it is only accessible on foot... or by bike! No cars cross the border there. It was lovely to bike without exhaust fumes, through the beautiful  landscape: a turquoise lake surrounded by snow capped mountains and hanging glaciers.

We had been planning to rent a horse to carry some of our bags so that the bikes would be lighter. We had made a reservation, and yet it seemed the wrangler was not interested in renting out his horses... So it was with fully loaded bikes that we began the difficult and even treacherous ascent. Four hours and not a little bit of pushing later, we found ourselves at the top of the pass, the official border between the two countries. We seemed to be right on schedule, and according other cyclo-tourists, it would take about three hours to get down the other side. We met a Belgian cyclists going the other way who told us that our friends were about an hour ahead of us. We knew that the most difficult part was still to come. There were narrow trenches that the front panniers wouldn't fit through, so Sara figured out how to attach them all the backs of the bikes. It made the bikes harder to control, but easier to walk along the narrow and winding path. It was like a boot camp obstacle course! We crossed over many rivers carefully maneuvering the bikes on narrow branches and we picked our way through a muddy swamp. We pushed and pulled the heavy bikes over countless steep inclines, slipping on the wet roots. We fell over a couple of times from the unbalanced weight of  the bikes, scratched our legs on the bushes, and bruised our calves on the pedals.

After another 4 hours of struggling along, we had only covered about 4 or 5 of the 7 kilometers. We were exhausted and at 9:30 it was getting dark. In the last river crossing each of us ended up with at least one foot in the water, and so we pitched the tent quickly in the driest spot we could find. Then we had to filter water, make soup and pasta for dinner ,which we ate in the tent sheltered from the rain, We didn't get to bed until 1:00 am! The next morning we had to get up at 7:30 to try to get though the last part of the crossing and make the 12:00am boat across the Lago del Desierto, the earlier of the twice daily ferry crossings (the second didn't leave until 6 in the evening). Only half a kilometer along, we had to unload everything from the bikes to cross a river. In the rain, the roots were more slippery and the trail more muddy than the day before. The last section was a very steep downhill  through a narrow trench, and we were pulled along by the weight of the bikes. The brakes were nearly finished since, just like in Ecuador a couple of months ago, rain and sand is a deadly combination for brake pads.
We were very relieved when we arrived at the bottom just after 11, went through the Argentinean customs, and could see the boat arriving. We got on with Denis, Urban and Rebekka, who had all arrived the night before. We all took about the same amount of time going up, but it took us more than five hours in get down, while it only took them about three and a half.

On the boat we avoided being scammed by the employees who wanted an extra 10 pesos for each bike. After eating lunch together on the other side, we all set off, once again in the rain, to cover the 36 kilometers to El Chalten. The rotten weather meant unfortunately that we didn't get to see the famous Mount Fitz Roy. It was extremely windy all night, and we were hoping to get a better view of the gorgeous mountain range on a hike this afternoon.

And if we had to do it over again?

Sébastien: “I would take off the right pedal, or maybe both of them! I would not bother to try to keep my feet dry or out of the mud.”

Sara: “I would wear rain boots! I would pack lighter, or at least wait for horses so that I would have been able to better appreciate the unique and spectacular border crossing.”

Heather: “I would take a backpack so that the bike would be lighter. I would also get better panniers, ones that are easier to load and unload. Also maybe more waterproof gear... but I think that applies to all of Patagonia, not just this border crossing!”

Sébastien