A meeting with the Carretera Austral
- Mar 21, 2016
- 3 min read
The shock of running into a paved road is soon soothed and smoothed away as my first taste of the mighty Carretera Austral is a stretch of the shiny new tar.
It seems the pavement on this once formidable road is being laid down faster than the hookers in a brothel offering free tastings. This is great for the people who live in the remote Patagonian region of Chile but for the motorcycle purists it will be a sad day when the Carretera Austral inevitably is totally paved.
But for me, it’s a nice break from the stony and sandy stretch from Futaleufu.
Hank lurches to a shuddering halt. While I am distracted by the beautiful scenery and don’t have to watch intently for a sharp stone or patch of sand, the pavement comes to an abrupt end.
It’s back to rocks and ripio (dirt).
I enjoy lunch with a stray dog in La Junta’s main square. After thinking of calling it a day in this small community the tumbleweed blowing past me convinces me to roll on.
North of Puyuhuapi the grey sky finally stops teasing and the rain that will last several days starts to fall.
Settled by German colonists, Puyuhuapi’s architecture could trick you for thinking you are in the Alps rather than the Andes. A bit damp I make for Casa Ludwig. However, the casa is full so it’s back into the rain.
On the shores of Puyuhuapi Sound I find the mermaid. La Sirena campground will be home to Hank and I for two nights as we attempt to ride out the rain.
The campground is filled with young Chileans hitching up and down the country during their summer holidays. The covered tent sites are a treat and the camp kitchen warmed by a wood-burning stove is heaven. The smoky confines host conversations in broken Spanish and English, dinner parties consisting mostly of pasta and impromptu music performances.
High on a mountain, the melting ice cascades down from the face of Colgante Glacier. It’s like watching sifting flour fall through the sieve.
The glacier is in Parque Nacional Queulat just south of Puyuhuapi. After a short ride south I set up camp in the national park before going for a quick scamper up to the glacier lookout. The trail scales and traverses the Rio Ventisquero Valley. The blue-green glacial water gushes down continuing to carve out the valley created by the retreating block of ice before running into Puyuhuapi Sound and the Pacific Ocean.
It’s pissing down when I reach the Enchanted Forest after an early and damp start from the park. The Carretera Austral winds its ripio way up the curves of “Cuesta del Queulat”. Twisting down hill I reach the “Bosque Encantado”. For me the enchantment lies in the canopy’s ability to reduce the amount of water filling my gloves, boots and pants.
It also appears elves, pixies, fairies and the wolf from The Never Ending Story could leap out at any moment from the forest’s fluorescent green mossy curtains. But I fear they are all taking shelter from the rain.
The first rays of sunshine break through the clouds at Villa Manihules. I warm up on a “caficeito” and a “completo” – instant coffee and hotdog with the lot - at a roadside stall. The combination warms the cockles of my chilly extremities and the mustard, mayonnaise and tomato sauce escapes from their bun confines to seek sanctuary in my beard.
The ripio is replaced by paviemento. And it’s a coast to Coyhaique. The carretera follows the gentle curves of the blue Rio Simpson and the reserve named after the river. High bluffs hem me in before I climb out of the valley and look down to Coyhaique, the regional capital of Aysen, bathed in sunshine.
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