People are hiding in the shade. Sweating creatures of rest. It is an intense summer in South America. Fortunately I am sitting on a bench in Santiago, trees are giving me shade. People walk around, shops are open. On the other side of the Andes , in Argentina, the opening hours of the shops would drive me crazy. Siesta from midday until the very late evening. The situation in Santiago de Chile is better, shops are open, cafés serve cold drinks and people actually do something. By now it is already January 2014. Other traverlers keep on telling me about the climate of Tierra del Fuego. They are causing doubts about my cycling to the very end of South America. According to their speeches it will be a hard time. The forces of nature will surely occure. The weather conditions in the south of Patagonia change rapidly at the end of February, I have more or less two months to arrive in Ushuaia. It seems to me out of the ordinary to think about snowstorms and iced roads on such a nice summer day with 37', not a tiny little breeze of wind is touching my exposed skin. But I know that the climate change is nothing to make jokes about. It is not predictable. Even if I can assume the intensity and the closing window, I know it will be my upcoming challenge for the next two months. The first time since I left the United States of America with my bicyle, I am worrying about cycling. My equipment is in its worst condition and the forces will be the most challenging. Wind, rain and snow will torture me, especially in the nights.
As Niseema and I planed her arrival, I phoned her that my tent won't be good enough for keeping her warm in the nights and we decided it would be better to bring her tent from Mexico.

The remembrance of entering Santiago is fresh. On the last morning I folded my tent, put it into its bag and said my inner farewells to wait for Niseema. Until the moment of her arrival I had the strong hope that my life as a cyclist becomes less troublesome but after testing her tent I had to confess, that her tent is even worse than mine. Despite of its better interior the zips and poles were worse and its performance in the wind was terrible. The poles bend extremely. It has the appearance of a shaking gelatin. Beside these problems, Niseema forgot to bring the rain protection and my tarpeones won't work with her bigger sized tent. It was time to face the truth, my almost unusable tent will be my companion until the end of the trip or the very end if its lifetime.

 In times of rest I am not dealing with my to-do list, I have to confess that I just relax instead of organize, repair and stock before I leave again. I left Niseemas new apartment without spare tubes. That is a really stupid mistake. I just left to cycle hundred of kilometer on dirtroads in an abandoned region. Armin changes his tires and gifted me his old one. After I changed my front tire, I spend my last day with my girlfriend. The next morning suprised with a flattire but it was to late to patch the tube or get some spare parts. I pushed my bike to the bus terminal and worried about my future. Luckily there was a shop which sold strange undefined tubes from India which might fit. Santiago is a typical Latin American city were districts are formed for certain supplies. Outside these specialized districts it is almost impossible to find a shop which sells the same product. I was more than lucky to have found at least this uncertain solution. At the bus terminal I was informed that my bus has a delay of at least three hours but I could use another company. By already owning the cheapest ticket for the most uncomfortable bus, I had no problem with this offer. I ended up in a bus with leather seats which perform as a bed as well. My travel could began.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I skipped some hundred kilometers. I saw these landscapes four times on my other travels with Niseema on my way to Argentina and back. Chile is beautiful in the north and in the south. The valley in between has its beautiful places, too - lakes, volcanoes, the Pacific Ocean and some German influenced cities. A quick view on the calendar told me to hurry up. I case of cycling I would stick to the unspectacular 'Ruta 5', a highway from the Atacama Desert in the north to Puerto Montt in the South. In this case I would see almost nothing. Since my decision to meet Niseema to celebrate with her the New Years Eve, it became clear, that it would be advisable to take the bus to Puerto Montt, the gate to the famous Carretera Austral. Ten additional days to spend for hiking, sickness, bad weather and other troubles are my reward. It seemed to be more attractive to me.
After fixing my bike I took a deep breath. My thoughts were occupied by the goodbye memories of Niseema standing beside my window at the busterminal. It's already our third 'Goodbye' since she spontaneously joined my travels in Mexico and we became a serious couple. Meter by meter I tried to get my rhythm and focused on the nature to suppress my thought about her. The already excisting beauty of the nature helped me to enjoy my comeback as a cyclist. The road alongside the bays and other little villages evoke a first great impression of the upcoming beauty of the Carretera Austral.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some call it the road after the end of the road. As people began to ride the Panamerican Highway, this part had no official road. Since the 1970s the roadwork is ongoing. The difficult realation towards Argentina deepened during the 1970s due to the Beagle Conflict crisis. The goal of the Chilean government under the leader Pinochet was to strengthen the Chilean presence in these isolated territories and ensure the land connection to the rest of the country by constructing this road, which was executed by the Chilean Army's Engineering Command. More than 10,000 soldiers worked in its construction kilometer Fir kilometer through the thick jungle of Patagonia. A higher number of workers lost their lives during this effort until it was opened for traffic in 1988. The roadwork never stopped. Bridges were build and lots of kilometer are even asphalted. The nature varies from rain forest and fjords to snow capped mountains, glaciers and volcanoes through the most sparsely populated parts of Chile.
 

 

 

 

 

"There are two roads to Hornopiren, which one is the easiest?"

My trust in advises about road condition, distances and altitudes is pretty low at this point of my travel but after I have had asked three times about the shortcut on the map I thought the statement is verfied, the road will be more or less flat. The climbs were steep and forced me to stop several times to breathe in some air. My lungs screamed out loud, even in the parts with termac. The real Carretera Austral began and the asphalt changed to be a mixture of stones and sand. At the third hill, where I had to push my bicyle, otherwise I was slipping away on the gravel, I had the deep wish to go back to discuss the meaning of the word "flat". At this moment of my travel, the weight of my luggage is at its highest. I kept cloths to protect me from the coldness in the nights and I carry food. Since I entered the nations Argentina and Chile, I cam not able to afford meals in restaurants anymore. The additional weight makes me struggle, the performance of my bike is bad on a ascent. At the right hand I saw a clearing and a little house. They accepted my wish of ending my day to camp at their property and I was allowed to stay and I enjoyed the evening with mate tea and cookies. Even if this was just the beginning I was curious about the life in this abandoned area and we had a long talk about the tradtions, differences and lifestyle in Chile. She pretended to know everything and backed up her sayings with distances, amounts and dates. The next morning I felt refreshed. Beside all the advantages of traveling in company it is incredible how much value inherent an uninfluenced rhythm. The only ferry to cross the fjord from Hornopirén to the entrance of the National Park Pumalín leaves at 10h30 but I took my time for long talk and breakfast with my host. The road became less extreme and I began to enjoy the environment. A thick forest surrounded me. The appearance is like a mix of northern rain forests with winter proved trees, probably evergreen nature. Rivers cut the scenery and small clearings open the view on the bays. Just before Hornopirén the mountains are suddenly snow capped and I arrived in time to stock up with food before I was invited to a cold beer by a fellow cyclist. On the menu I found something unbelievable. This village is already that far away, abandoned and far away to get easy supplies. Most of the values are shipped with cargo ships and have to be ordered much in advance. In this area of the world, I did not expect to find the beer of my small German hometown. Just my low budget prevented me of getting stupidly drunk but they did not have it on stock anyway. The fjord is wonderful and apparently great for fishing. One hour it took us to fish I little poor salmon and there was no other choice than to flip it back into the sea. Anyway, it became night and the overcast was alarming. I decided to get back to my tent for a proper adjustment in consideration of the approaching rain. I trashed my plan to camp outside of town and joined five other shorttrack cyclists. I was hiding under a shelter and in spite of my efforts it was very suprising for me to wake in a puddle, my head wetted by a soaked pillow. An even more stricking moment inherent the next morning. The wind almost folded my tent to a briefcase. Altogether it was a frightening night. My thoughts were fixed on finding solutions for my travel south. In considering of what might will happen in the forthcoming months. Meaningless to say that the others had no trouble with the conditions at all, what multiplied my fears. The boat brought me to the next section of the Carratera, a famous national park. The fjord is surrounded by mountain ranges and bejewled with forest and waterfalls.

The next two days I camped in the National Park Pumalín. The NorthFace owner Douglas Tomkins bought this untouched nature after his divorce. The end of his relationship inherent a split up in the work relation and Tomkins use the money of selling the clothing company 'Esprit' to finance the park project. Lobyism and fears about a divided Chile were critical problems for Tomkins. The unfamiliar project, a private reserve in Chile ones by a foreigner, initially generated skepticism and political opposition. Beside the orgin of his wish to create an area without direct human influences it was always the plan to create an area with public access and an infrastructure which preserves the untouched nature by informing about environmental issues at the same time. The park has a propagation from Argentina until the Pacific Ocean and protects some of the last remaining stands of Alerce trees, one of the oldest species on Earth. The Chilean government feared a divided Chile and the wood industry worried about their share. 98 percent of the park acreage was bought from absentee landowners.
The second camping was special. The clouds left and we had an open view on several glaciers followed by burned forest. My eyes followed the destruction until a bunch of clouds in an otherwise cloudless sky. It was the activity volcanoe Chaitén which exploded in 2008 and continued to be active. Forests near the volcano have been burned by pyroclastic flows and lateral explosions. Large parts of southern Argentina and Chile have been coated with ash, with possible longer term consequences for agriculture, although not only negative as ash adds new minerals to the soil. I personally breathed in the ash which is still coating the district of Bariloche, Argentina. Everytime the wind blows through the trees and bushes or a car drives over the dirtoads it leaves dust in your face which most of it is apparently ash from the Chaitén eruption.
On the next day the activity was much less than at the previous days. Just some little smoking overcasted the destroyed cap. We cycled two kilometers next to it and my eyes were fixed on the volcano before we left the national park to camp and barbeque in the city of Chaitén.

 

Diary Quote:
"The Carratera Austral is not what I thought it will be. My source of information was Joanna who told me it is supposed to be the nicest part of the travel, a cyclists whisdom. It is not that abandoned and the term life threatening is an issue of the past. Of course I cycle in a wonderful environment but it all has a touch of tourism and normal habitat. I even had to fight to enjoy the cycling in a section of construction work. The road condition is aweful between Santa Lucia and La Junta but in a clear view, this is why we cyclists are cycling in this region instead of taking the Ruta 40 in Argentina? We want the solitude, the pure nature. Adventurous days on a unpredictable road. So far so good, wouldn't the scenery be spoiled by rude and aggressive drivers and dozens of dump trucks. It's just to much action on the road and the feeling far away from harmony. The stones and sand surface makes it hard to have a look around and the dust and permanent danger of cars, busses and trucks is creating a bad energy. I really can't tell that I like Chilean society by now and this part of the road inherent the issues for my bad opinion. There is no respect for another person. The crowded places and intense discussions of other latin nations disappeared. The street life vanished from the screen and a cyclist is nothing special, not even a reason to look at. I don't want to be admired for what I am doing but it was nice how much interest and love my cycling created since I started. At least I want to be treated nice. Nobody, really nobody, out of approximately 50 car-drivers who saw my pleading for a reduced speed, did react on my signals to drive slower. They continued with full speed. Stones are flying around, dust takes your view, dries out your mouth. You lose the control of the bike and your concertration. I will never understand a racing driver in the moment he sees a cyclist fighting up a steep hill on a lonely dirtroad. The worst example is following: My friend Robbie pushed his bicycle up the hill. He has had chosen a little path in the middle of the road where less stones made it at least a bit easier to push the loaded bike up the mountain (650m altitude). Especially after a long day you just try to keep going, you chose the easiest part of the road to push. I almost freaked out as I heard Robbie, an retired Canadian teacher, telling me, that the approaching car held next to him, so that the driver could tell him not to walk in the middle of the road. No respect."

The next days the traffic became less and less. The behavior of the drivers was the same but at the small amount of traffic and the well prepared dirtroad, let me time to enjoy the landscape. Finally, it was time to visit Puyuhuapi. Somewhere in Peru I swobbed a novel for an independent German travel-guide. It is an heavy book but I had some detailed information about the Carratera Austral and the trekking in the National Park Torres del Paine which I have had assumed to be a good idea to visit with info about the hikes. Cutting out necessary pages is not an option since I love books and would not destroy one on purpose. In a little section about the Carretera, I could find a map and some information about Puyuhuapi.

Four Sudeten German families thought they would be just the first vanguards but nobody was allowed to follow them after the beginning of the World War ll. The families stayed and I was curious about this little village and the old German traditions, conserved in the isolation and expanse of Patagonian wilderness. The map just showed me three streets and constructed an imagination of an abondened German village. I arrived and became sad about what I saw. The village expanded with tourism facilities and the German houses lay unused in high grass, ignored by all, tourists and citizens. One little information board tells you about the history. No German flag nor a attempt to use the history as a symbol for tourism and identity. Cities like Puerto Varras or Frutillar conserved German traditions and are using them to attract tourism but also for a identity they are proud of. I skipped to see those places in high expectations of Puyuhuapi. What a bummer!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chiles younger history, and especially Patagonians history, is strongly influenced by German settlers. The name Patagonia most likely has its origin in the word 'patagón' used by the explorer Magellan to describe the native people who were taller than Europeans of this time. Other subsequent reports like the one of Pigafetta, who claimed to have measured natives of more than 3,5meter in height, led to the view of the indigenous as giants. Another possible origin is that one of Magellans favorite books mentioned an uncivilized folk named Patagón and it just could have been taken from there. Later expeditions of James Cook and John Byron pointed out that the natives are quite tall but no taller than 2meter and by no means giants.

The expansion and the death:

Patagonia (Chile and Argentina) has a density of 1.9 persons per km², most of the people live on the Argentinan part. That gives you an impression about the solitude on the Chilean side.

In the early 19th century the exploration of the outlast natives of northern Patagonia intensified and a lot of Mapuches indigenous migrated to the southern parts to live as nomads. They have stolen Argentinan cattle to pass on the Chilean side to trade for goods, especially for alcoholic beverages. Soon after, the both governments began an aggressive phase of expansion into the south, increasing confrontation with the indigenous populations. Argentine authorities worried the strong connection between the tribes and Chile on base that this allegedly gave Chile certain influence over the pampas and a war over territory.

Conquest of the Desert:

The Conquest of the Desert was an Argentine campaign by to subdue or in better saying, to exterminate the native people of the South to end the possibility of Chilean expansion in those regions and to end the attacks. Indians stole many horses and cattle, killed men defending their livestock, and captured women and children to become the slaves or brides of Indian warriors. By killing and displacing the indigenous, they cleaned the road for Ethnic European settlers who became a big reason for Argentinas economical rise by turning Patagonia into a breadbadket and Argentina to a agricultural superpower on the world market. The Conquest is commemorated on the 100 peso bill in Argentina what chose that the Argentinian view is to have brought civilisation. Mass executions and the prevention of birth for servants and prisoners.

Julio Argentino Roca directed the campaign. His words give an insight on the motives:

"Our self-respect as a virile people obliges us to put down as soon as possible, by reason or by force, this handful of savages who destroy our wealth and prevent us from definitely occupying, in the name of law, progress and our own security, the richest and most fertile lands of the Republic."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diary Quote:

"On a hot day in Columbia I saw once a fat woman in tight clothes. She was sitting on a chair and as she was permanently being molested by dozens of mosquitoes. Once in a while she waved around with a weird thing, I first thought of it being a tennis rack. In fact it has the shape of one but was pass through with electricity. The mosquitoes got smoked.
Sometimes, while my daily fight against two different kind of flies of Patagonia, I wish to have this gadget. Especially the northern parts are overpopulated with those flies. They never disappear. Even if you hit them hard, they just shake it off and attack you again. The attacks are pretty painful. Especially by going slow on an ascent, they are a plaque. My mother bought me a shirt two years ago. I guess it cost a fortune, it was meant to be an anti mosquito shirt. The only problem was, it is short-sleeved. I took it with me on my travel but just on a few occasions, I did not wear it. In terms of light traveling, a barely used item is oddly. I gave it a try and could watch the probusces crunching on the special surface of my shirt. Actually these insects like Robbie more. On the first day of the Carretera Austral we met and somehow went all the way down to Puerto Cisnes where he takes the boat back to the airport, a one way to his home Canada. Beside his nice companionship he became an important part of my travel by giving me his tent. You are reading right, from now on I am cycling with a water and wind proofed tent. Our last days together we spend in Puerto Cisnes, a small fisher village where the people complain about big Spanish fishing boats and their huge catching nets. The impact of Spanish, US American and Canadian leadership is a burden and a gift for the nation at the same time. On the one hand it brought investement, knowledge and work. On the other hand the strong privatization makes Chilean politics and economy dependent and helpless. Fishgrounds close to the shore are almost destroyed, mines are owned by foreign nations, water and electricity prices are not under Chilean control.

I complained lots the last weeks, Chile hits me hard and I will have to find a way out of this thinking to enjoy my stay. To focus on the nature and minimize local contacts will be best."

 

I took a deep breathe and cycled back to the Carretera Austral. The road from Puerto Cisnes had no disturbing traffic. The clouds hang deep and waterfalls covered the bold mountains. In moments without overcast I could see snow capped peaks. All surrounding mountains were actually high enough to be covered with ice and snow. Not more than 800m above me. As I reached the junction to Coyhaique, it began to rain. First I thought I can continue, then I saw a shelter and thought I can bide one's time to go ahead. After an hour of pouring rain I began to think of pitching the tent but I could not find a place. My whole body was shaking. Mainly my wet feet began to hurt. Some cars passed by but nobody stopped. Two days before an Israelian girl died while hiking in this region, her clothing was not adequate. "

 

Diary Quote:

"I just jumped in the middle of the street to stopp a car. the rain is so strong and my feet hurt. It looks like it won't stop raining today. I thought about the girl who died two days ago. My situation is not that bad but I cannot see a place to pitch my tent and in this cold I prefer to hitch a hike until the next shelter, my shoes should not be any more wet. The car just passed by, like every other. It was be unbelievable hard to hitch-hike in this nation if Chileans not even stop for a cyclist who jumps on the street by showing alarm signal. These guys should know about the Israeli, I cannot understand their ignorance."

 

I began to cycle in a period of less rain. After some kilometer I saw an abandoned governemental house and through my belongings over the fence. As I entered I saw cycling pants hanging over a clothing line, two other cyclists slept in a tent, protecting themselves of a recordbreaking rainstorm. According to the local news 450mm of rain dropped on the earth, months worth of rain. Fortunately I cycle in the rainforest and the soil is used to huge amounts of water.

The road already was empty but the rain forced most tourists to stay in their cabins, I had the road for myself. Something else changed also. The next 250km were paved. I could enjoy the landscape but the wish of finding a sideroad became more and more overwhelming. After I stayed two days in a Casa de Cyclistas, I took a detour from the Carretera Austral in the direction of the Argentinan border. My wish came true. Finally I was cycling in a region like I expected the Carretera Austral would be for its full lenght. Nature, Solitude, forcing winds and endless dirtroads. The highlight of those days became the Valle de la luna (Moon Valley). My new tent could stand the wind and rain, the doubts to arrive in Ushuaia became less intense.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On a steep hill I almost could not climb as a result of additional winds. The winds soughed and I could not hear the approacjing car. The driver came close in high speed, broke harsh behind me and the noise of a sliding car on gravel made e frightened enough to loose control. My bike crashed. Blow me down! Angrily I went to his open window and asked him about his mental condition. He was acting like he will jump out of the car and I stepped back by telling him to come out of his car if he really wants. His failed intimidation forced him back in the car. As I saw his arm searching for something in the compartment, I though of a spray but he took a 20cm long knife out of the box and hold it into my face. I did not run away. took out my cellphone and told him that I am going to make a picture of his license plate. It was dumb to not run but my bike lay in front of his car and he probably would have driven over it. On the other hand I did not think he was willing to stab. He did not, went back in his car and almost crashed my bike. In the last moment I could push my bike away that he could not drive over the tire.

 

The landscape around Coyhaique changed. The settlers were allowed to make firesfires for agricultural use of the teritory. The fires were out of control and became a natural desaster. Some reforesting programs try to bring back the old flair but the area is to big. Anyway I was surrounded by gorgeous landscape. I planed to tack the ferry to Chile Chico, a bordertown to Argentina. The southern part of the CarrateraAustral is supposed to be even more beautiful but I had no time to continue on the gravel and the price of the ticket for the ferry in O'Higgins, where the Carratera ends, costs a fortune.

 

Daily heavy winds up to 100km/h are a symbol for the crossing to Argentina. Fortunately it is a westwind and it blast me to Perito Moreno where my last part of the trip will began: going south to the Tierra del Fuego.