Welcome to Argentina!

We get a text that our 7:30am ferry has been moved up to 7am. It is a 8km ride of the bikes to the ferry and we get to bed at midnight, resulting in a very short sleep when the alarm went off at 5am. But the bonus was seeing the sun rise over a nice roll along the water.

We arrive at the port along with many other bikepackers and hikers. The ferry is only for bikes and individuals, no cars or motos, and holds about 20 people. The boat ride across the first lake takes about 2 hours and is spectacular. We have great views of glaciers on the sides.

Everyone is super excited as we disembark to start the notorious Ohiggins-El Chalten Argentina Border Crossing Challenge. A real adventure, it involves two ferries, two border controls, 17km of steep loose gravel double track, 5 km of muddy, rooty downed tree hike-a-bike singetrack and the very real possibility of crappy weather. The first ferry is cancelled about 50% of the time due to bad weather (friends from Barcelonnette who did this route in Feb 2024 were delayed 6 days waiting in Villa O’Higgins) and the second ferry only runs at 11am and 5pm.

So our goal is to pack light on food, push hard and make the afternoon ferry (most camp halfway between the two boats). But the challenge hits right off the boat as we half to wait 3 hrs in the outside cold for an exit stamp to leave Chile. Argentina will not let you in without this stamp and the computer has broken down in the Chilean office. So we wait and wait and wait, watching our hopes dash to make it to El Chaten for evening burgers and beer.

Finally, we do get inside and get our passports stamped in about 5 minutes while watching an Eminen/Rhianna music video on a TV screen. And we are off on the doubletrack, multiple pushes of the tandem up steep grades but steady state progress across the no man‘s land zone between the two countries.

The pushes were good warmup for arriving at the Argentian frontier as that’s where the road ended and the mud began. For context, it rained over 30mm the day before (>1.25”) and the bogs that were normally muddy were quite deep now. We started off trying to ride the singletrack but quickly realized we brought the wrong bikes and tires, plus ripping off our rear panniers on trees and bushes on a few occasions. So basically hike a bike for 5 km through mud and streams, pushing, cussing and bleeding from a hundred pedal strikes on the back of our calves.

At 4:50pm, we finally see the Lago Desierto from up high, the crossing of the second ferry. The path looks steep but somewhat rideable, so Anne nervously mounts the tandem and we plummet down the track on our 700x50 road tires, brakes squealing loudly from all the mud packed into the calipers. And we arrive at the Argentina border control at 4:59pm, the ferry still at the dock and the boat captain pointing at his watch. Lara and Angus are still behind, not quite dumb enough to ride down what we just did, so we let the captain know we are waiting for our family.

And then we get a view of the field in front of the pier. It is a postcard photo of the lake looking directly at the Fitz Roy. Turns out we can camp for free there and take the 11am ferry the next day whereas we have a 40km dirt dirt after tonight’s ferry to reach El Chaten. We are all exhausted and trashed after the mud slog and quickly decide to stay. Though we buried ourselves trying to make the ferry, we are all quite happy to pitch tents and uncover whatever scraps of food and gel shots that might be hiding in our bags for dinner. Other hikers and bikers arrive over the next few hours and we have some nice discussions before finally passing out.

Thinking we would be bored awaiting the 11am ferry, we sleep late and find ourselves hastily collapsing the tent as the ferry comes in view about 10:50am. We board and settle in for the 45 minute ride across the lake. Soon after, we are back in the saddle and on a scenic rocky road to El Chalten, the “Smoking Mountain.”

El Chalten is nestled in a beautiful valley of cliffs, glaciers, rivers and the iconic backside of Fitz Roy. It is bustling with restaurants, breweries and tons of American and European tourists who fly into the nearby airport of El Calafate and ride over. Known as a hiking and climbing mecca, quite a bit of development is in progress and we can only image what it will look like in 10 years.

And we get our first taste of Argentina inflation. Prices are crazy here, read Aspen, CO prices. $32 steaks and $4 packs of Ramen noodles (the $0.49 cheapo college ones in the US, not the fancy gourmet ones!). The only saving grace is the happy hour beers of 2 for $8 pints.

We find the last remaining patches of level ground in the backyard of the Casa Azul to pitch our tents for our two day stay. It is a comfortable hostel with warm showers and internet, save for mealtime when 6000 people crowd the kitchen and one gas stove. Also it seems half of France is here.

Our first day is recovery and we go to a nearby cafe for 5 hours and order multiple rounds of Lattes and pastries while cranking out a blog post and other admin tasks. The second day we hike the Laguna des Los Tres to the base of Fitz Roy, a 22km trip with 1000m climbing. The weather is perfect and we meet and hike with Sandra, a nice young lady from Germany over on sabbatical to explore South America.

It is the end of the biking road for Andrew, he will stay an extra day in El Chalten and catch the bus to El Calafate. Andrew, Lara and us roll out of town, boosted by an enourmous tailwind with hopes to make it to El Calafate in two days. There are virtually no services or water between the two towns, save for a ranch/hotel about halfway and the pampas region is beautiful but quite inhospitable.

After crushing the first 90km, we turn into the tailwind we had enjoyed the last three hours and it is crushing. The three bikes take turns drafting doing 1km pulls but the crosswinds and gusts toss us all over the road. Parched and out of water, we are quite relieved to arrive at the ranch La Leona.

We go inside and order rounds of hot chocolate and upon seeing their signature Fritz Roy lemon tart, order on of those too!

While inside, we noticed a wall with a lot of old western-style photos and memorabilia. Turns out the infamous bank robber Butch Cassidy and his partner Sundance Kid, hid out here for one month during their robbery spree through the Americas. Some other bikepackers we talked to later who had camped there said they felt like the place was haunted.

Pretty exhausted, the smart move would have been to call it a day and camp here, but no one has accused us of being smart (well, maybe Anne). So we check iOverlander and see there is a road maintenance shack about 40 km ahead that will let you pitch a tent in a sheltered garage and has a water source. But that will involve three more hours into the late afternoon of brutal wind.

So we push and push and push, bikes whipping around the road and grateful the traffic is light. We arrive at the garage about 8pm, wiped but happy. That was to be short-lived though as the guardian told us we could not stay and either need to backtrack 20km to an abandoned house or continue 6km forward to a bridge in a depression. Mounting our raw butts back on the saddle, we push forward.

Arriving at a small bridge, we find three culvert pipes underneath and heaps of guanaco corpses, several recently deceased. Apparently, this is where guanacos go to die. At this point, we didn’t care. We just wanted to pitch tents, crawl inside and pass out. And we did.

Rest was short as we decided to wake up at 5am to get miles on before the wind got intense again. We wanted to minimize suffering while trying to balance fatigue.

Stay tuned, Pumping up the Jam in El Calafate!