Floating on the Futaleufu
- Mar 10, 2016
- 2 min read
My Spanish isn’t great but it’s good enough to understand what ever “hold on” is in Spanish.
The raft rocks and rolls against the thrashing waves of Mas o Menos - a big, long rapid on the Rio Futaleufu.
Before there is time to wipe the whitewater from my eyes, we hit Casa de Piedra, the biggest rapid on the lower part of the Futaleufu.
With amazingly clear turquoise waters and huge Class V rapids the "Fu" is considered one of the premier whitewater rivers in the world.
The headwaters of the river lie in Argentina’s Los Alerces National Park and runs through the Andes and the Patagonia region of southern Chile.
Bursting out the other side of Casa de Piedra still in the raft brings to a successful end my run on the Bridge to Bridge Section of the Futaleufu - one of the most continuous stretches of big volume whitewater on the planet.
Futaleufu is also the name of the small town where hank and I cross back into Chile. This time it’s a very smooth and fast process. May have been a different situation if my bags had been searched and a stray banana found. Very strict rules about smuggling fresh produce across the frontera.
The only drama is when a monsoon bucket almost dumps its load on Hank and I as Argentinian fire fighters battle a forest fire on the border. We skirt past the flames and smoke above us in the mountains.
West of Futaleufu lies the famous Ruta 7 or Carretera Austral. It’s time my faithful friend and I put ourselves to the test. Leave the succulent steaks behind and ride one of the most famous roads in the world.
But first there is time for one last fine dining experience. Restaurant Martin Pescador or Kingfisher Restaurant serves up sumptuous meat and fish dishes. I try both. The steak and salmon both melt in my mouth. And the red wine washes any stray food from my beard down in style. I may be sleeping on the ground with my arse and back on the stones. But my stomach is getting five star service.
The dusty road winds west. Coasting alongside several lakes before snaking the turquoise river I swallowed the day before. Lago Yelcho’s southern tip provides a beautiful stop to beat away my second skin of fine dirt. I check Hank’s tyres. The stones are sharp and patches of sand send me sliding sideways.
After topping up Yelcho’s blue waters with a bit yellow to make it a pleasant green it’s only a short pull to the Santa Lucia junction. Where I will run into Ruta 7.
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