Into the 𝑊 ⃪𝑖 ⃪𝑙 ⃪𝑑 ⃪ (WIND)!

Our early 5am wake up at the guanaco cemetery gave us a few hours of blissful riding, but when the right turn due west came to head to El Calafate, the wind hit hard.  Still, we worked with Lara taking pulls and eventually made it to town.  Pooped, we found a nice coffee house and ordered rounds with some avocado toast.  

El Calafate ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Calafate ) is a relatively new town and mainly known as the gateway to Los Glaciares National Park and the massive Pierto Moreno glacier.

We found an Airbnb close by but had a few hours to kill before checking in.  All of us reeked of sweaty, dirty clothes so we filled the time with using the cafe bathroom to change into the cleanest stuff we had and piling the rest to drop off at a laundromat. Afterwards we properly celebrated the prospect of fresh clothes with ice cream!

Angus, who had stopped his ride in El Chalten, took the bus to Calafate and rejoined us at the Airbnb.  We learned there was a weeklong town festival in progress with music concerts each night.  Although we did attend some of the music in person, our house location was so close to the festival that we could easily hear the loud music inside the closed house well past midnight.  It was fun though and the whole town turned out.

Aside from taking a rest day, we also rented a car to visit the Pierto Moreno glacier.  To save money on the entrance fee of $45/person, we tried to buy online tickets for the three kids as students (Lara technically is still in school) and Anne and Kip as Argentinean pensioners.  It didn’t work.  Anne and I couldn’t speak Spanish, much less with a local accent and the kids didn’t have student IDs showing their current school year.  They were later able to convince someone inside the ticket office otherwise with alumni emails asking for donations but Anne and Kip coughed up the fee.

The glacier hike was amazing. At the waterline, the glacier rose 140’ (40m).  Five kilometers back, it was over 2300’ thick (700m) and moved at a rate of 2 meters forward per day.  We only saw a small portion of the total glacier and were fortunate to witness several massive chunks of the face break off into the lake.  The resulting waves were huge.

On the way out of the park, we ordered a signature gin cocktail supposedly made with glacier ice.

At the end of our stay, Angus was officially off to Puerto Natales to sell his bike and return to Australia.  Anne and I were sad to lose our first-born and bid farewell with the hope he can visit us in France or us visit him Down Under.  The next morning, Andrew also left us on a bus to Natales and we bid goodbye.  We also hope to reconnect with him back in the States or attend one of his concerts when his band does a tour!

Later that day, Anne found a version of her first car she owned, a Renault 4L.

So now it was just our new oldest daughter Lara and us left.  We enjoyed the massive tailwind as we headed east out of town, rolling at 40km/hr barely pedaling.  As we were doing the big climb of the day, we passed another bikepacker stopped on the side and greeted him with “Hola, Bonjour.”  To our surprise, he replied in french and we rendezvoused a few kms later at a shelter.  Upon chatting on each other’s journey, he asked where in France we lived and we replied a small village in the southern Alps called Barcelonnette.  He smiled and knew where it was, since he lived in the nearby village of Tallard.  We were all amazed at the crazy odds.

We continued on and soon the wind hit with ferocious intensity.  Barely moving 5 km/hr, we struggled to keep the bike upright for hours and eventually came to a desolate road maintenance garage.  Fortunately, unlike the previous encounter, the guardian here was very nice and allowed us to tent in his covered carport and brought us water.  Lara had gotten ahead of us and at one point Anne and I took shelter in a culvert to get some relief from the wind.  We were all in tears when we finally reunited, not knowing if the other was hurt or succumbed to the elements.

Later, we were joined by Phillipe who worked for Canyon Bikes in Germany and Ben from Switzerland, who had started his bikepacking journey 20 months ago in Alaska and had recently logged 20,000 kms.  We chatted a little but quickly excused ourselves to pass out in our tents.

The next morning, we made the silly decision to take the Ruta 7 shortcut on “dirt” road rather than stay on pavement.  Asphalt would have meant an extra 130km but we felt with our weeks of Carretera ripio under our belts, we were prepared despite all the warnings on iOverlander.  We even dismissed the intel from the garage guardian that the road was full of baby head stones and we should avoid.

Let’s chalk it up as a learning experience, albeit a very painful one.  On the plus side, there was little traffic as even a Jeep Rubicon might need new shocks after that 70km.  The tandem made lots of new sounds and we had to stop several times and walk, as there were no lines to ride.  And it was cold and rainy to add to the fun.  

But before the crap really hit, we managed to race some of the local hotshots, the Greater Rhea ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greater_rhea ). It is the largest native bird in the Americas, weighing up to 27kg. And they haul ass…

We reached the garage after 70km and many hours of body-numbing beatdown.  It was early afternoon and we were cold and wet.  The guardian offered us beds in a workers dorm trailer for $10/person.  Kip was fully ready to stop but the others wanted to get some food in and warm up before deciding.  Our goal had been Cerro Castillo that day which entailed another 55km of road.  Feeling a littler better after lunch, we pressed on down the road.

But after 10 km, a massive headwind hit which stopped us completely.  We could barely hold up our bikes when standing on the ground.  There was no way we could go forward, even completely fresh.  So we turned around and let the wind push us the 10km back to the garage.  We coasted at 35km/hr without pedaling.

We were happy to have shelter, a warm shower and use of the garage kitchen.  All night, the wind howled and we seriously thought the trailer we slept in would flip over. Metal clanged against the roof.  To add to the seriousness, the leadoff story on the nightly Argentinean news was about the high wind warnings accross the country.  Checking the weather forecast and the Windy app, there was no use to wake up early.  The next several days were going to be horrible constant wind with gusts up to 100km/hr, all blowing against the direction we needed to go.

We saw a possible window of less wind in the late afternoon and decided to try for the border.  Cerro Castillo is in Chile 55km away and involves a border control to leave Argentina and a second control 10km away to enter Chile.  We were having a difficult time to determine the control closing hours, hearing anywhere between 8pm to 10pm for each.  To reach the first control by 8pm would be a major effort and the dirt road between the two would add at least an hour for the second, more if the wind was tough.

So Lara, Ben and we set off,  A few other bikepackers had passed through the garage earlier after doing the Ruta 7 sufferfest and were already on the road ahead.  They were strung out down the road like a death march.  Working with Lara, we caught each one and invited them to join our draft train.  They were all exhausted from the earlier effort and we were fresh, so the two of us rotated in front and blocked the wind.  Our road buddies were super appreciative but around 7pm, we realized our pace pulling the group would miss the 8pm border closing.

So Lara and we took off, telling the group we would try to stall the border guards until they arrived.  We buried ourselves for the last 14km and were blessed with a nice long downhill to bridge the distance.  Pulling in before 8pm, we found out their closing was actually at 8:30pm so we played with the pet foxes at the control and waited for the group to arrive.  Everyone made it.

We all then set off for the Chilean control, hoping it closed at 10pm and the ripio would not be too brutal.  After about 500m, we got a huge surprise of fresh concrete road rolling us all the way to the border.  Sweet!  We filled out the forms, had the dog sniff out bikes for fruits and veggies (not allowed + no meat, dairy, nuts, honey) and we were back!  The mercado was still open so we swung by and stocked up on food - nothing for the dog to find since we had run out of food that morning!

Along with Ben and Lara, we rented an Airbnb in Cerro Castillo and decided on another zero day as the forecasted winds were above 60 kph .  Our next destination is the Torres del Paine park and biking in gale-force gusts to reach the entrance 50km away would be stupid.  For once, we made the right decision!

We also spent some time together with our bikepacking pals Aaron from Buffalo, NY and Angel from the UK (originally Bulgaria) who we had been hopscotching for the past several weeks. Exploring the small town of Cerro Castillo, it was quite evident the normal wind direction, but we learned it is the site of one of the largest rodeo festivals in Chile. Also, raising sheep is big here with all the open land.

Next up, adventures in Torres del Paine park and beyond!