Change In The Weather: PanAm km1162 to1075.

March 17, 2016

During the night I lay awake listening to the rain. Vincent's climatologist friend was right: the find weather would break on Thursday. There's no need to say, like everybody else, I hate riding in the rain. Its not too bad on level road, but there's not much of that here. Route 5 runs inland but roughly parallel to the coast, where every estuary and inlet and river valley, the road plunges steeply into and can be seen ahead going straight up and out the other side of such hollows. This type of road, especially some of the steep gradients of 12-13 per cent there are here, is horrible in the rain. The brakes are soon not very effective, and it's cold descending.

But just as it is getting light, it stops and doesn't start raining again. Looking out at 7.41 by my watch, there's a large hole revealing blue sky in otherwise thick cloud and I hear the slush of cars pass on nearby rain soaked road. I will remain put a while longer this morning awaiting the road to dry out.

Then there is a puddle inside the tent, opposed where I sleep and underneath a small hole in the flysheet I thought I'd fixed using a film of puncture repair glue. This I fix with a bit of insulating tape when the tent has dried.

I am on the road at half nine, the sun now shining through broken cloud. The plan today is to reach the ferry and cross to the mainland and find a place to camp. Which will leave a short day tomorrow to Puerto Varas, where I plan a few days off the bike.

The road surface has deteriorated to badly fractured concreted, fractures big enough to drop a bike wheel into, though mostly crossways rather than in the direction of travel. The shoulder is now intermittent, small parts paved in the same concrete, but mainly a mix of paved and gravel. And quite narrow in places, just about the width of the bike with a curb and or metal crash barrier on the inside. Not ideal since the road has returned to be steep up and downhill like before later on yesterday, mind I said it was level.

Is this a bus shelter? or a bull shelter? Where cows wait for a bull.

I reach Ancud after four major hills in a row within five kilometres, then one stupidly steep climb into town. I thought it would be a nice place to lunch, but being a seaside town, not such a good place to be when its cold and windy, which by this stage in the day it has become. I have to take shelter sitting on the pavement against a wall along the seafront promenade, instead of the idyllic scene sitting on a bench looking out to sea envisaged earlier when it was calm and warm. Then before I finish eating, a dark cloud and rain, which I'd been watching move closer finally reaches me and I've to quickly pack up as I'm splattered by icy drops of rain. Though it is no more then that. The edge of the shower as the rain moves on east leaving clear blue sky in its wake and cold wind.

A memorial to four from Ancud, that were taken away never to return after the military coup in 1973.

I return back the way whence I entered town. The town located out upon a peninsular with only one way in and the same way back to the main route 5, which continues over a long bridge across a bay and with a tailwind, I bowl along the next gently undulating 27kms, the road surface much improved with a paved shoulder, to Chacao, where I board a waiting ferry for the mainland.

Old roadside commercial building; notice faded advertising on the roof.

Disembarking the other side I'm confused by a confusing sign, Puerto Montt, pointing left and somewhere local, right, when the only major road is to the right. I ride along the major road and stop and ask directions in a shop. The woman inside confirms Puerto Montt is straight on.

About four kilometres further the autopista (motorway) begins, which isn't a problem as there are no signs barring cycling and there are bus stops and pedestrian along the wide shoulder, so I suppose it is legal to cycle here. There is also a turnoff, the beginning of a sandy track which I ride off down until coming upon this grassy plot to the side, hidden from the track behind bushes where I've camped.

Things have gone to plan today. Tomorrow I can look forward to that short day to Puerto Varas, followed by some days off the bike to rest and get the journal up to date.

I see myself as having come a long way north since leaving Ushuaia, but I need to get another few hundred kilometres north to escape possible cold or wet weather conditions.

A typical wooden church of Chiloe, in Pargue, the mainland ferry port.

Today's ride: 97 km (60 miles)
Total: 7,079 km (4,396 miles)

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