After just over 4000 miles I have eventually arrived in Ushuaia, the most southerly city in the world! The route here has been on the legendary Ruta 40, legendary because its nearly all dirt road, rough and through the wind swept plans of Argentinian patagonia and when I say wind swept you have to reconsider what you believe to be windy. Patagonia is famous for its constant winds that howl down off the Andes mountains, as I have been heading south, this means a constant strong cross wind, that at times is bordering on the violent. Most nights I have been camping out as they have great camping facilities hear in Argentina and in neighbouring Chile, which I have just spent a few days in. I have been graced with great weather, so it has been a pleasure to do so, the nights have become longer as I have progressed south and its now light until past 11pm.
The riding has been at times quite slow as I try to manhandle my 325kg beast over the rock strewn roads, but the toughest days riding was left to the last day on Ruta 40, when the wind really picked up to gale force. The weather down here is totally unpredictable and I woke to the sounds of my tent flapping loudly in the wind. I had camped that night at an Estancia, which are small farms where you can spend the night; get some food, shelter and a shower. It was built in a hollow, but even that couldn’t protect it from the elements today. I was riding with Axel and we both headed out with a certain trepidation that morning as it was a 300km ride to the next town of El Chalten, the home of the Fitzoy mountains, a range of spires standing 2500 meters proud of the surrounding land.
The wind pushed the bikes with such force that it was easy to end up on the wrong side of the road. Normally you can just steer against this, but with loose stones under your tyres this felt like riding on marbles. To make matters worse, 4x4 that and trucks make deep piles of stones that you have to ride between and if you get blown in to these, there is a very good chance of coming off, not something you want to do in the middle of now where, with no medical facilities or replacement parts for hundreds of miles.
180km took us 7 hours and we were both exhausted by the relentless wind, even when which made stopping difficult as there was a real chance of the bikes being blown off there stands. We arrived at the dust blown town of Tres Lagos where we could refuel with petrol and some extremely over priced food, but at this point I really didn’t care, I just wanted a feed and to get out of the wind. It felt like pure bliss just not to have your body battered by the elements and relax for a while. We felt so comfy in that dust fuel stop that we took an hour and a half just eating empanadas and drinking coffee, god it felt g
ood.
We now had 120km to go on sealed tarmac, which felt like pure heaven, we open up the bikes and relaxed – but not for long. The wind was still strong, but much easier to handle on tar. As we rode along, the elements had a few more surprises to throw at us, as we saw the sky darken and the temperature dropped rapidly as we headed in to the mountains and towards the glaciers. First it rained and finally sleeting, this was such a vast contrast to the dry almost dessert landscape that we had ridden through for the rest of the day. We arrived in to town shivering and extremely keen to get in to a warm guesthouse. Options were limited, but any port in a storm. A hot shower and some good pizza is a great way to make you feel better and put the days efforts behind you, we where both broken from the day though, I would put the mental and physical efforts of today up there with an ride I have ever done. As we made our way back to the guestho
use it began to snow properly – Patagonia, all the seasons in one day.
After a days rest we hiked up to see the spires of Fitzroy, beautiful granite formations surrounded by eerie looking dry forest full of weather beaten trees that grow in the direction of the fierce wind, run though with crystal clear streams that are feed from the glaciers that are still shaping the surrounding mountains. Hiking is not a form of exercise that I enjoy, even though I love my exercise and you are surrounded by great nature, I just don’t enjoy the sensation or effort of it, so after 4 hours of upward effort I resolved to make this my last hike. After taking a shed load of photos, we started our hike down, which was made increasingly difficult, as I seemed to have a sharp pain in my left shin, which got steadily worse as I descended. It ended up taking me 5 hours to hobble down, with each step making my resolve to never hike again more ingrained. Naked and sore I easy the pain with some quality Argentinean whisky, a pleasure never to be missed, that is said with extreme sarcasum.
On the way out of town we meet up with Martin and Lauren, who ridden in a different direction to get some work done on their bike. There had hooked up with 3 Ozzies riding on Kawasaki 650`s. We had a catch up and all headed out of town towards El Calafate and the giant glacier of Perito Moreno, 6 bikes and 8 people, it was all becoming quite a road train. Perito Moreno is 30km long, 5km wide and 60 metres high, but what makes it exceptional in the world of ice is its constant advance – up to 2m per day , causing building-sized icebergs to calve from its face. This is not just a sight for the eyes, but also an experience for the ears as the ice cracks and groans in front of you, all shades of blue and white mixed together as the unstoppable force of nature is working in front of you, it is truly a beautiful sight to behold and makes you consummately aware of how insignificant we are and how short our lives are in the scheme of time as ice that is thousands of years old floats of in the lake.
Our road train then headed for Chile and the Parque National Torres del Paine, home to yet more beautiful granite towers of the Andes, these are the mountains that you will see in every ,magazine article on Patagonia, shaped like the teeth of a giant saw, there stand at 10,000 ft, while you stare up at them from 150ft, quite impressive.
No hiking for me as my leg had become worse from the previous efforts and had swollen badly, causing me to have to change gear with my heel as I could not flex my foot. Kate, out team physio diagnosed it as a inflamed muscle tendor connection and I was ordered to rest with my foot elevated, I had no problem with this , as the other hiked off, I relax with a book in the sun and feeling the energy from the surrounding wilderness. The Torres dominate the surrounding area and every where you ride you can seen then standing high above the land, snow capped in the sunshine and reflecting in the mirror like lakes.
Next stop was the port town of Puerto Natales and my first glimpse of the sea for quite a time. We treated out selves to some drinks in the town’s only boutique hotel, with great views over the sound and a glorious sunset, a contrast to our wind campsite. We made our way to Punta Arenas to catch the ferry across the Straits of Magellan to the island of Tierra del Fuego, to be told that the ferry was sold out for the next 4 days, we could however try to hang out at the dock and see it we could get a cancellation fro the evening crossing. Six bikes don’t take up too much room even with panniers and tents and bags, so we managed to squeeze on board for the 3 hour crossing of one of the roughest stretches of water in the world. Lady luck was shinning on us that evening and we sailed across smooth open water with out incident, arriving on the bleak island as the sun started to sink glowing orange and red. For such a harsh environment, the people live in extremely flimsy house, constructed of nothing more than corrugated tin and hardboard, with only single glazed windows and ill fitting doors that let in every draft, god knows what its like in winter when you have to survive constant gails and freezing temperatures, then get up in the morning to head out to sea, it makes you appreciate how easy we have back in England and other western nations.
The following day we crossed the island on dirt road that hugged the rugged coast line, air fresh with the smell of the sea, shingle beached with shanty style huts and fishing boats pulled up high to stop the sea pulling them back to the surf. It was surprisingly warm and we where blessed with a tail wind that made riding easy and enjoyable. We crossed the border to the Argentinean side of the island, where everything is at least 30% cheaper and spent the night in the industrial town of Rio Grande at a great hostel. The others camped in the gardens, but I needed a bed tonight, so crashed in a dorm, that I had to myself, its amazing how luxurious this scant room seemed, £8 well spent to have a mattress and a warm blanket and no tent flapping all night. The hostel had a huge kitchen and we did a communal spaghetti Bolognese, always an easy way to entertain the troops.
Leaving town we where hooted and cheered by locals as our train of bikes headed out towards Ushuaia, for some of us it is our final destination, for some mid way and for me and Axel, just the starting point, as we are both heading to North America. The Argentinean side of TDF is very different to the Chilean side, which is barren , flat and treeless, we were now surrounded by tree-covered mountain, more reminiscent of Canada than anything I had seen so far. We headed through the mountains on lovely paved roads all excited to be reaching a huge milestone – Ushuaia, the world’s most southerly city – and a mecca for overland travellers that
drive and ride across the Americas.
At the entrance to town there is a large wooden sign informing you of such, which I am sure features in everyone journey photo album. We stopped for the obligatory photo shoot then headed in to this town that is the starting point for any one venturing over to the Antarctica on the many vessels that now ply these waters. Its might be the most southerly city in the world, however is has little else going for it, windswept and over priced is really a better description, however, it is cause for celebration and after finding our campsite – yes I am camping in the southern most city in the world, little option actually as all the hostels are full – we cracked open some ice cold beers and sat in the sun overlooking the Beagle Channel, where Charles Darwin first sail up over two hundred years previous.
I feel relieved to finally be here, but this is literal the start of my journey, from now on its all north and a long long way. I’m sitting currently in a warm café, as it has rained all night and the forecast is the same for tomorrow, not the best thing when in a tent or a motorbike or you desperately need to do some laundry and I do. We are planning a big feast tonight in out camp kitchen and some red wine to keep out the chill, while dreaming of sun soaked beached in distant lands.
As I finish writing this, it has just started to snow – bollocks!
ood.We now had 120km to go on sealed tarmac, which felt like pure heaven, we open up the bikes and relaxed – but not for long. The wind was still strong, but much easier to handle on tar. As we rode along, the elements had a few more surprises to throw at us, as we saw the sky darken and the temperature dropped rapidly as we headed in to the mountains and towards the glaciers. First it rained and finally sleeting, this was such a vast contrast to the dry almost dessert landscape that we had ridden through for the rest of the day. We arrived in to town shivering and extremely keen to get in to a warm guesthouse. Options were limited, but any port in a storm. A hot shower and some good pizza is a great way to make you feel better and put the days efforts behind you, we where both broken from the day though, I would put the mental and physical efforts of today up there with an ride I have ever done. As we made our way back to the guestho
use it began to snow properly – Patagonia, all the seasons in one day.After a days rest we hiked up to see the spires of Fitzroy, beautiful granite formations surrounded by eerie looking dry forest full of weather beaten trees that grow in the direction of the fierce wind, run though with crystal clear streams that are feed from the glaciers that are still shaping the surrounding mountains. Hiking is not a form of exercise that I enjoy, even though I love my exercise and you are surrounded by great nature, I just don’t enjoy the sensation or effort of it, so after 4 hours of upward effort I resolved to make this my last hike. After taking a shed load of photos, we started our hike down, which was made increasingly difficult, as I seemed to have a sharp pain in my left shin, which got steadily worse as I descended. It ended up taking me 5 hours to hobble down, with each step making my resolve to never hike again more ingrained. Naked and sore I easy the pain with some quality Argentinean whisky, a pleasure never to be missed, that is said with extreme sarcasum.
On the way out of town we meet up with Martin and Lauren, who ridden in a different direction to get some work done on their bike. There had hooked up with 3 Ozzies riding on Kawasaki 650`s. We had a catch up and all headed out of town towards El Calafate and the giant glacier of Perito Moreno, 6 bikes and 8 people, it was all becoming quite a road train. Perito Moreno is 30km long, 5km wide and 60 metres high, but what makes it exceptional in the world of ice is its constant advance – up to 2m per day , causing building-sized icebergs to calve from its face. This is not just a sight for the eyes, but also an experience for the ears as the ice cracks and groans in front of you, all shades of blue and white mixed together as the unstoppable force of nature is working in front of you, it is truly a beautiful sight to behold and makes you consummately aware of how insignificant we are and how short our lives are in the scheme of time as ice that is thousands of years old floats of in the lake.
Our road train then headed for Chile and the Parque National Torres del Paine, home to yet more beautiful granite towers of the Andes, these are the mountains that you will see in every ,magazine article on Patagonia, shaped like the teeth of a giant saw, there stand at 10,000 ft, while you stare up at them from 150ft, quite impressive.
No hiking for me as my leg had become worse from the previous efforts and had swollen badly, causing me to have to change gear with my heel as I could not flex my foot. Kate, out team physio diagnosed it as a inflamed muscle tendor connection and I was ordered to rest with my foot elevated, I had no problem with this , as the other hiked off, I relax with a book in the sun and feeling the energy from the surrounding wilderness. The Torres dominate the surrounding area and every where you ride you can seen then standing high above the land, snow capped in the sunshine and reflecting in the mirror like lakes.
Next stop was the port town of Puerto Natales and my first glimpse of the sea for quite a time. We treated out selves to some drinks in the town’s only boutique hotel, with great views over the sound and a glorious sunset, a contrast to our wind campsite. We made our way to Punta Arenas to catch the ferry across the Straits of Magellan to the island of Tierra del Fuego, to be told that the ferry was sold out for the next 4 days, we could however try to hang out at the dock and see it we could get a cancellation fro the evening crossing. Six bikes don’t take up too much room even with panniers and tents and bags, so we managed to squeeze on board for the 3 hour crossing of one of the roughest stretches of water in the world. Lady luck was shinning on us that evening and we sailed across smooth open water with out incident, arriving on the bleak island as the sun started to sink glowing orange and red. For such a harsh environment, the people live in extremely flimsy house, constructed of nothing more than corrugated tin and hardboard, with only single glazed windows and ill fitting doors that let in every draft, god knows what its like in winter when you have to survive constant gails and freezing temperatures, then get up in the morning to head out to sea, it makes you appreciate how easy we have back in England and other western nations.
The following day we crossed the island on dirt road that hugged the rugged coast line, air fresh with the smell of the sea, shingle beached with shanty style huts and fishing boats pulled up high to stop the sea pulling them back to the surf. It was surprisingly warm and we where blessed with a tail wind that made riding easy and enjoyable. We crossed the border to the Argentinean side of the island, where everything is at least 30% cheaper and spent the night in the industrial town of Rio Grande at a great hostel. The others camped in the gardens, but I needed a bed tonight, so crashed in a dorm, that I had to myself, its amazing how luxurious this scant room seemed, £8 well spent to have a mattress and a warm blanket and no tent flapping all night. The hostel had a huge kitchen and we did a communal spaghetti Bolognese, always an easy way to entertain the troops.
Leaving town we where hooted and cheered by locals as our train of bikes headed out towards Ushuaia, for some of us it is our final destination, for some mid way and for me and Axel, just the starting point, as we are both heading to North America. The Argentinean side of TDF is very different to the Chilean side, which is barren , flat and treeless, we were now surrounded by tree-covered mountain, more reminiscent of Canada than anything I had seen so far. We headed through the mountains on lovely paved roads all excited to be reaching a huge milestone – Ushuaia, the world’s most southerly city – and a mecca for overland travellers that
drive and ride across the Americas.At the entrance to town there is a large wooden sign informing you of such, which I am sure features in everyone journey photo album. We stopped for the obligatory photo shoot then headed in to this town that is the starting point for any one venturing over to the Antarctica on the many vessels that now ply these waters. Its might be the most southerly city in the world, however is has little else going for it, windswept and over priced is really a better description, however, it is cause for celebration and after finding our campsite – yes I am camping in the southern most city in the world, little option actually as all the hostels are full – we cracked open some ice cold beers and sat in the sun overlooking the Beagle Channel, where Charles Darwin first sail up over two hundred years previous.
I feel relieved to finally be here, but this is literal the start of my journey, from now on its all north and a long long way. I’m sitting currently in a warm café, as it has rained all night and the forecast is the same for tomorrow, not the best thing when in a tent or a motorbike or you desperately need to do some laundry and I do. We are planning a big feast tonight in out camp kitchen and some red wine to keep out the chill, while dreaming of sun soaked beached in distant lands.
As I finish writing this, it has just started to snow – bollocks!
3 comments:
We'll have some good hiking for you up here in Colorado when you arrive! As it's on the other side of the world gravity will help your knees.
bolloxs
How fantastic is it with all that space and such breath taking scenery! Love it!
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