Day 1: Great start

Though it was chilly and drizzling when I rolled out, it wasn’t too cold, and after about ten minutes the drizzle disappeared, the cloud level rose a bit, and I was treated to just about 100km of spectacular scenery on undulating, relatively smooth gravel roads. I crossed paths with a few other cyclists going the other direction, having a quick chat, talking outlines of our trips and more specific details of the roads to come. Really cool to feel the solidarity  on the road; everyone on the carretera austral is “doing” the carretera austral, so even the folks in cars and motorcycles honk, wave, share stories, etc. Really good vibes during the day, followed by successfully using the untested tent, sleeping bag, and camp side at night. Reason for optimism!

Day 2: Absolute misery

Today, the drizzle was proper rain, it only stopped a few km before the finish, and it never warmed up. Four degrees C and rain is no fun. My hands were frozen to the point that shifting was a challenge, meaning my thumb slipped a lot, and every time it banged against something, it felt like someone slammed a door on it. I only rode 40km or so, but on a mountain bike, on shitty roads, it was more than enough time to descend into pretty dark mental places. I spent hours swinging from “if I got hit by a bus, at least I’d have a good excuse to stop,” to “if I get a flat, my fingers are gonna break trying to change it, and I’m gonna die frozen on the roadside.” Fun! It took me about 90 minutes to warm up again when I finished, and by that time I had also eaten so my mood improved.

Day 3: An apology from the cycling gods with some sun and a warm tailwind

According to the weather forecast, it was supposed to stop raining around noon, so I hung out in the hostel until then and wound up chatting with a really nice Italian couple, which instantly improved my mood. Still, I had absolutely no desire to leave. But leave I did, and I was rewarded with the most pleasantly surprising day that I’ve had on a bike in a really long time. I had been expecting rain and cold, but what I got instead was sun and a tailwind and temperatures that warmed up from 7° when I started to nearly 20° when I finished 85 km later, after having rolled through and over some mountains and enjoyed some spectacular vistas with dramatic sun poking through the clouds. It’s not really an exaggeration to say I was euphoric, what with the scenery, pretty good roads and just generally good weather. The first 20km were the same as the last 20km from yesterday, so I was also able to understand that the roads sort of melt in heavy rain, the bonds between the grains of sand loosening to the point of what I, in my misery, would have described as riding on a hard-packed beach. Anyway, same road, dry but uphill this time, and 4 kph faster. Another reason to hate the rain. I also managed my fueling much better. Key to staying out of dark mental places: warm hands and adequate glycogen stores. Got it. My ride ended at a campsite on a river with a dramatic view of the mountains. More of the same tomorrow please!

Day 4: I think I might quit

It was raining so heavily in the morning I decided to see if waiting it out would work. It didn’t. I left around 13.30, figuring I could stop after about 50km in the next town if things didn’t get better. They got worse. It was so cold and wet that a poor girl on her bike had taken shelter at a bus stop and was hoping to hitch hike her way forward, as she was too cold and wet to keep going. “Otherwise I’ll just camp here, at least it’s dry, and I really can’t cycle any more like this. It’s supposed to be snowing up top.” Well fuck me, looks like I’m off into the snow. The 5km climb was fine, working hard and all, but rollers and descending meant that my hands froze again, despite two layers of latex gloves and a pair of full length gardening mitts to boot. And, because I had waited so long in the morning, I had already eaten most of my snacks and was left with two little bars for a solid three hour ride. So, lesson from yesterday about keys to happiness clearly not learned: my hands froze and I bonked. And again, clouds obscured the views, so the only redeeming quality of the ride is that I made it to a town with a bus station. And maybe that it didn’t actually snow, though at least that would make the story more interesting.

I’m in crisis mode. The forecast is for the same cold and rain for the next ten days (aka, as far as the forecast goes). I really really don’t want to “abandon” the carretera austral, it’d feel pathetic, cheap, and just sad, but I’m struggling to find reasons to keep going. Around every new bend is another Hudson River School landscape, except if the forecast is correct, all I’ll see is clouds, so why be frozen and miserable to see nothing. It’s not an event I need to finish, it’s just meant to be beautiful and fun, and right now it’s gray and miserable. Ugh. Not in a good headspace.

Day 5: Hell yeah

It was sunny enough to wear my sunglasses and that alone would make it a good day, but there were plenty of other reasons too. Turns out a Finn from the hostel is cycling at the same pace and in the same direction, so we fell in together shortly after departing, and over the course of the day he came out of his typical reserved Finnish shell to be very good company. He is a former silver medalist in the Finnish national championships for the olympic distance triathlon. And now severely out of shape (for his standards), hence why we can ride together. Having company was great, but having sun and relatively warm weather was tops. Almost good enough to make me forget the two miserable days behind me. Almost. I’m incredibly suspicious of the weather, and the forecasts, so while I’m much further away from abandoning than yesterday, I haven’t abandoned the idea of abandoning altogether. Let’s see.

Day 6: windy fun

Mikko the Finn and I had another leisurely start, timed to a dry weather window. Big breakfast from the lovely little lady at the campsite and we were off, again in sunglasses, again in a very good mood. The bulk of the day was spent skirting Lago Chelenko (aka Lago General Carrera), which is the color of a Mountain Dew marketeer’s wet dream, a glacial turquoise blue that changed tone with every new angle and every passing cloud.

There’s always been wind, but today was the first day it really made its presence known. The prevailing winds are from the NW, so when we were descending NW, the winds prevailed so hard into our faces that we actually slowed down despite a 4% grade. Amusing going downhill, but the gusts ground us to a literal standstill going up. Can’t only complain though, had a nice tailwind for a while too.

Day 7: Rest, planning, and marble caves

First rest day of the trip, and I need it. I’ve ridden 29 hours over the past eight days, which is about 3x what I’d ridden in the two months prior. And while some people wax poetic about the corrugated ripio (gravel) and its mythical ability to make colors twice as rich and mountains twice as dramatic, the sensation it provokes in me is that of getting my saddle jackhammered into my ass for hours on end. It’s bone-rattling and exhausting, so I’m happy to have a break. Was also a chance to see the marble caves, lucking out with the last boat of the day because the waves on the lake had gotten big enough to surf. (Look at how the water changes color in the photos. Beautiful.)

The forecast hasn’t changed (solid rain for the next three days), and because I’m already a bit behind, I’m gonna take a couple of busses to get to the north end of the carretera austral, where I’ll hop over the mountains to warmer, drier Argentina and work my way up to Bariloche for a little city break.