Exchanges: Puento Weber to Puerto Natales.

January 11, 2016

Park administration: typical Chilean painted wood houses with corrugated iron roofs and picket garden fence.

There is no way anyone could've discovery my stealth campsite such was it's out of the way location from stopping vehicles, which there are none from evening to late morning the following day. The nearest house is the park administration house two kilometres further, which I reach before eight. A rainy morning, though not raining overhead yet, there's rain ahead with intermittent sunshine and rainbows. And, strong wind.

I have it as tailwind until the park administration house where the road curves right and it become a near impossible crosswind pushing me out into the road, onto gravel where I've to suddenly plant my feet firmly on the ground to prevent the bike skidding out from under me. This stretch lasts for near five kilometres across open exposed riverside plain, until the road curves left to the park exit gate and further, a bridge back over the river, whereby it's tailwind again. Though I have misgivings here, seeing a road beyond the bridge turn right again, carved into a hillside opposite and following parallel to the river and assume it is the continuation of the road I'm on, not having a detailed map to know any better. I predict a tough day making poor progress in strong crosswind. But two things happen in my favour. The paved road bridge continues on; whereupon, the road splits in two, with the left split signposted Puerto Natales; it climbs up over the hill, but such is the tailwind which blows me uphill almost without pedalling.

Finally cresting the hill the road rolls down and follows a lake shore for a while, then climbs away and crosses into a partly wooded valley with rock outcrops, abundant streams and level grassy areas suitable for camping. Then, the tarmac ends and the road reverts to ripio while continuing into a wider valley with the first houses in a while in branch roads with bus shelters out by the roadside.

It is just as important to keep the bike dry.

It is then that the rain has moved in again just ahead of me and as it is that time, I stop at one of the aforementioned bus shelters for lunch.

While eating I meet the first of four cyclists today, when along come a tandem with a young couple from England, but living in Switzerland, rainjacket hoods up against the cold and rain and struggling into the wind. They ask me about the national park and I tell them the road is tough. And where I camped not far beyond the park entrance, as I think they are for entering the park late and will therefore want such a place not far on, thereby saving on entrance fee. I let them know that the information leaflet says, camping outside of authorised campsites is strictly forbidden, with ten years in prison if caught.

When leaving the bus shelter, a car that had been parked for quite a while opposite, the driver of which gets out and beckons me over and with a mix of Chilean Spanish and hand signals, indicates that he needs a hand to push start the car. Me and his wife, a big woman start pushing, while he with one foot out on the road and the other in the vehicle steers into a downhill laneway, whereupon the car runs forward on it's own and he jumps in. The car then jumps to a halt and starts up. I wave and set off but they follow me and pulling up alongside me, hand me out two packets of biscuits as thanks for helping, which I am delighted with. Something to look forward to eating later when energy is waning. A worthy exchange for labour.

French couple Millau and Vincent, sport balloon tyres run at low pressure providing good grip on unpaved ripio.

The rain is soon dripping down on the road ahead and with it its raw cold.

Descending a hill I see two more cyclists coming the other way enclosed in hooded rainjackets. A French couple, Millau and Vincent, riding on great big balloon tyres run at low pressure, providing good grip on loose stones. Vincent tells me their tour will be mainly on tracks including loose sand. And they give me a map of Puerto Natales, marking the hostel where they stayed and say I can camp in the garden. Yet again a useful exchange.

Just as a shower moves on leaving clear sky in it's wake.

Further the rain has abated and the sun has come out. But the stony unpaved ripio goes on and on.

I am looking forward to reaching the Milodon cave, which features in Bruce Chatwin's book "In Patagonia" whereat I'll snack on those biscuits. It is around six o'clock and from few vehicles during the afternoon, there's now lots of work pickup trucks and tipper-trucks speeding by back home for the night, forcing me off the best line round the loose stones and leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

Then there's quite a climb left across the valley, which then swings sharp right and continues up parallel to rocky escarpment, where ahead I recognize from an old black and white photo in the book, the overhanging rock and the cave underneath.

On getting to the reception building, I find what I'd expected; namely, they charge money to go and look at the cave: four-thousand to foreigners; not a lot of money, but having only five-thousand, I thought I could experience difficulty drawing more cash at the ATM later. Therefore I didn't want to have squandered cash that may be useful to pay a first night's camping in Puerto Natales on sightseeing. Instead I find a picnic table on the sheltered side of the building, where I boil water to make coffee to have with the biscuits.

Approaching Puerto Natales on "Seno Ultima Esperanza" Last Hope Bay. I wonder how it got this name. Did Chile around the time of settlement of the area (1900), send all it's worse types here? In this remote frontier was their last hope and if they failed, they were absolutely fu-bleep cked.

I reach Puerto Natales at eight, secure a place to pitch the tent in the garden of the hostel Vincent marked on the map. Then am successful in drawing Chilean pesos at an ATM. Then find a supermercado. Cycling back from which I become disorientated, loosing the way and taking twenty minutes finding the right way back to the hostel.

Today's ride: 89 km (55 miles)
Total: 3,993 km (2,480 miles)

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