Chile & Argentina - part 2: Fin del Mundo

It was with heavy hearts that we departed our sanctuary of the Marriott hotel in Santiago, making our way south. The weather was nice, and we chuckled to ourselves as we blasted along the auto-toll road, knowing that we wouldn't be able to pay the fees and the police apparently not caring in the least. [Perhaps another instance of having a low-key SUV passing along it's benefits to us] We stopped briefly for me to attempt a phone interview, but despite having 3G coverage, it kept cutting out and I had to give up. We spent the entire day driving south along great roads, the kilometers falling away, along with the temperature.

Southern Chile or Iowa?

“Is that the road?” Bethany asked as I pulled over along the shoulder. Looking off to our right, we saw a dirt and rock lane that went along a fence-line and directly in front of a house. The entrance had a gate on it, and we were unsure if it was truly a road or a private path. Figuring it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, we pulled along the lane and made our way back towards the river. The road became increasingly fun to drive [read: rough] and we bumped up and down, not really slowing because the sun was laying low against the horizon and we wanted to scope the place out in the last vestiges of daylight. The GPS brought us to the coordinates along the river, in the vicinity of a campground [on the other side of the stream and up a ways], but without the exorbitant price tag. The sound of the running water serenaded us as we set up camp and quickly made dinner, hopping into the tent as the temperature plummeted with the sun sinking below the horizon.

We awoke to the river steaming in the crisp morning air.

The following morning we woke early, knowing we had plenty of driving ahead of us. There was a small blackberry bush next to the car, but few of the berries were ripe. As we drove out along the path back toward the road, we realized many of the bushes lining the lane were blackberry bushes, most heavy with fruit. We stopped and hopped out, spending the next 15 minutes on a picking rampage, the air silent in early morning light, occasionally broken by muttered curses as one of us pricked our fingers on a thorn or dropped a berry on the ground. With our ziploc bag nearly full, we hopped back in the car and drove off, our fingers stained with the deed done. We probably could have finished much quicker if half my crop didn't just end up in my mouth as I picked them. “Oops, kinda sorta squished that one!” I'd think to myself, and pop it in.

This region of Chile is flat plains dominated by a few isolated mountains, and it was one of them that we spotted far off on the horizon and drove towards all day. In the afternoon we stopped next to some falls [Saltos de Petrohue] and hiked in the shadow of the volcano. We passed a group of older American tourists, all of them with walking sticks, but some with more knowledge about them than others. My personal favorite was the tall older gentleman who had his walking stick completely extended to over six feet, his hand head level or maybe even higher. Another highlight was the young guy who had his girlfriend take glamour shots of him on his phone, posing un-ironically for the shots.

The waterfalls weren't particularly big, but the volume of water flowing through was impressive.

Driving a little further on, we arrived at the national park along Petrohue lake, a beautiful lake surrounded by the mountains was our view for the evening as we camped along the rocky beach. The following morning we hiked along a volcanic rock trail towards the volcano, terrifyingly named the Paso Desolacion [Desolation Pass]. The valley leading up to the volcano was gradual and a full wide plain, giving us great views all around. The only issue was that the darn lava gravel kept falling into our shoes as we walked, causing us to pause and do the hokey pokey every few steps as we shook it out.

I spy with my little eye: a Sweetcakes!

Awe-inspiring peak in the distance.

El volcan. We couldn't help but noticing some of the exposed rock on the sides of the volcano. It's heating up!(?)

Sadly, no Smaug sighting.

Overlooking the lake from our hike around the base of the volcano.

Continuing on to Puerto Montt that afternoon, we realized that given the changing season and our desire to get to Ushuaia, we were going to have to zip through Chile, skipping many of the national parks we wanted to see. We'd also heard from other travelers that the eastern side of Argentina, our planned northbound route after Ushuaia, was pretty boring. We realized that if we doubled back, we could cut across to Argentina and make the rush to the southern tip of the continent and then return north through Chile, staying ahead of the advancing cold while enjoying the national parks. High-fiving each other for our [belated] brilliance, we got our oil changed and laundry washed. The woman was kind enough to promise us that she'd have it done by 6 [dropped off at 3; unreal turnaround time in South America!]. After paying $50 for an oil change [y u do dis chile?] we purchased our Chilean national park passes then went to a mirador to cook the rest of our perishable food [yay border crossings into Chile] and started the rush south by first heading north.

Meteor zone?

Pulling into the parking lot at the end of the lane along the lake in Puerto Varas, we tried to figure out how to not be too conspicuous as we wild camped that night. There were two young guys with their tricked out cars sitting in the gravel lot, trying to act cool. As Sweetcakes came rolling to a stop facing them a few feet out, they quickly hopped in their cars and sped away. Either we interrupted a drug deal or Sweetcakes ain't nothin' ta fuck wit.

The GPS coordinates were for the parking lot, but it felt a little exposed to us. We saw a little path that led down right along the water, with the path snaking back along the water's edge another 200 meters further back, under the ledge. Realizing the opportunity for some additional privacy [and the little fire pits along it showing others had the same idea in the past], we drove down and back. The rocks were very loose and the crunching was tremendous; so much for stealth camping. Pulling to the end of the lane, we proceeded to hang out to make sure we didn't get kicked off the beach after we'd gone through the hassle of setting up. With time to waste, and a wide open view looking out over the lake, I set about cleaning up our camp. Latin and South America have a terrible penchant for littering, so the next half hour I did what I could to clean up our site, quickly filling up five grocery bags with garbage, and an additional four beer boxes. We settled into our chairs to read and watch the sun set behind a patch of smoke from a nearby forest fire that smudged the sky and horizon.

In the end, we thanked ourselves for having the gumption to camp at the end of the lane rather than the parking lot; with it being Friday night, the original parking lot quickly filled with people hanging out and drinking, staying there all night [literally; I woke up at 6am and people were still out].

Normally the statue appears to be reaching up to one of the volcanoes behind the lake. We couldn't see the volcano due to a nearby forest fire.

The drive to the border with Argentina was through the lake region of Chile and so of course it was absolutely gorgeous. The border crossing was quick and painless, with the added bonus of them apparently not running the car search because it was the weekend. We'd parked on the outskirts of the border and walked up to complete the paperwork, and had all of our stamps. After we finished, there was an area for the car search portion, but no guard was right there waving us over, and the guard we'd passed just before looked at our ticket with all the stamps showing we'd been through immigration and customs and waved us through. “Should we see if someone is around?” I asked Bethany. “Hell no, let's go!” came her reply. We passed through the last checkpoint and started cheering; our veggies were safe! WOO. [#justoverlanderthings]

Bethany's brother Michael informed us earlier that week there was a Motocross race outside of Bariloche [the town we were driving to] that weekend. We'd noticed people at the border in the mandatory Fox, Thor, and DC apparel that's ubiquitous at MX events, and not long after we left the border we started passing the line of parked cars on either shoulder, with police spaced every few hundred meters waving us to slow down. Apparently parking for this event was only roadside, because we ended up driving past several kilometers of parked vehicles, eventually hearing the familiar brapp BRAAAAP of four stroke engines. It was a perfect day for the race and we wish we had time to spare to take in the festivities.

Bariloche is very clearly a ski village. Driving through it, we made our way past the tourism and out to a wild-camp spot at the base of a mountain and along a stream. Hanging out, we periodically waved to people passing nearby on their mountain bikes. We washed our dishes in the river [ah the life of glamour we live] and then made our way into town to change some money. We shopped around a little bit this time, eventually settling for a pretty good exchange rate. We counted the money and swiftly made our way back to the car to get the $1000 out of our pockets and into our lockbox.

We first met Heidi in Oaxaca, Mexico, when we were all new to this long-term travel experience. Heidi flew into Mexico from London, arriving a few weeks before us. We'd been in Mexico little more than a week when we met. Heidi went on to continue backpacking through much of Central and South America, teaching English in Buenos Aires for a few months as well. She was in Bariloche though, so we met to catch up. She introduced us to Juliette from NYC, also spending time seeing Argentina. They showed us to a legit German pub with numerous [and cheap!] beers. I wanted to cry I was so happy.

After all this time on the road, I still enjoy waking up in our tent!

The next morning we made sure to do a quick grocery run since we were going to be on the road much of the time for the next few days. Naturally this included fresh baked pastries and a bag of doritos [we ate the ENTIRE bag the night before...ooops] The drive south along Ruta 40 was beautiful, as we'd heard from other travelers. We even were able to stop and get a free hot shower at one of the gas stations. Sign me up as a long haul trucker!

Check out the slope of those peaks!

Patagonian wind.... FML!

That evening we found a wildcamp spot along the lake near Sarmiento and got our first exposure to Patagonian wind. Constant 30mph wind with gusts that had to push 50. Keeping the car doors open to move stuff to the front of the car so we could sleep in the back was difficult, and the wind speed only picked up later in the evening. Despite that, we did our best to enjoy the sunset, then marveled at how loud it was inside the vehicle as the wind whipped over us. We were quite glad we had the option of sleeping in the car as the tent would have been torn to shreds.

Our beautiful, but extremely windy, campsite.

Good morning, Monday!

The following morning we left Ruta 40 and made our way towards the Atlantic coast, passing near several oilfields en route.

Hello, Atlantic Ocean! We haven't seen you since we ferried from Panama to Colombia.

Upon reaching the coast, we enjoyed having the ocean along our side as we made our way south again, coming to Argentina's Coastal Circuit just north of San Julian. We left the pavement for the gravel trails hoping to see penguins or sea lions, but to no avail. Instead, we began searching for a good wild camp spot that would keep us out of the wind. Eventually, we found what appeared to be an abandoned [for the season?] campground that was nestled under a rock overhang and provided some shelter from the wind. We made camp and began to cook all of our food again, as we'd be crossing back into Chile the following day. We think it may have been a popular make out spot for the youth of San Julian, as several cars went by, one of them actually pulling in and getting ready to back into the same spot we were in before seeing we had it occupied and hastily speeding away, nearly getting their car stuck in the loose rocks. We chuckled.

Entrance to the Coastal Circuit. Ike: "If something happens to Sweetcakes, you're walking to the next town."

An old lighthouse along the coastal circuit.

Sand blowing in the crazy winds.

We cooked all afternoon in the wind. Beans, more beans, eggs, granola, sausages, and potatoes. Noms!

The sunrise was spectacular.

We couldn't figure out if these were ostriches or emus. According to a quick google search, it looks like they are actually rheas. 

Counting down the kilometers to Ushuaia.

The next day, we saw a roadblock as we entered the highway and had flashbacks to the hours we waited in Bolivia. Thankfully, it didn't affect us and we continued on. Later, at one of the police checkpoints, we were warned that the trucks were unable to travel due to the roadblocks, so we should refuel wherever possible as gas service could be interrupted along the way to Ushuaia. As we continued on, we passed two more road blocks and hundreds of stopped trucks, but each time car traffic was allowed to pass. We noticed that many of the protesters had green jackets on that might have said something about trucking. We're of the mind that it was a trucker's union protest, which would explain why so many trucks were stopped while traffic was still flowing.

Earlier that morning when we'd filled up with fuel, we had a weird instance of Sweetcakes dying at the gas station: she'd start, but die within 2 seconds. It happened 3 times while we were waiting in line for gas, but then I noticed that flooring it while starting would keep it going, then it'd settle back to idle without any issue. I figured something odd had happened, as at first I'd started it but there was lots of ambient noise and I'd let off the starter before it'd actually caught. She drove fine though, and we made our way onward. When we stopped for gas the next time, Bethany moved Sweetcakes after filling it, and said the same thing happened again. Looking it up online, we saw bad gas could be the culprit [and the least scary of all the potential issues; bad fuel pump? PASS PLZ] The small towns we were stopping in didn't have mechanics around, so we continued on to Rivadavia, the nearest town of any size that had a mechanic. As we arrived, we stopped to get gas again and shower at another gas station. Bethany hopped out to search for the showers, and while she was doing that I killed and started Sweetcakes several times, not flooring it, to see if she started normally. Thankfully, she did, so it appears that it was just a case of poor gas quality.

Bethany returned and said the showers weren't available, which we'd planned to use while we waited for the mechanics shop to open after siesta, but with Sweetcakes apparently fine again, we decided to soldier on towards the border, as the idea of sleeping at the gas station was unappealing with so many truckers hunkered down for the protest.

Permiso, coming through!

The crossing back into Chile was very easy. Since this was a fairly short stretch of Chile [few hundred km's] and much of the traffic was heading towards Ushuaia, they let us keep our permit information for Argentina and told us we could reuse it once we crossed back to Argentina a few hundred kilometers down the road. The only real issue was when Bethany was trying to verbally say our license plate number to one of the customs agents. The letters are VJL. V is pronounced “oo-bay”, but the man kept hearing it as: “oo bay [U B] and kept writing UBJL and getting confused.

Once we got across the border we drove south 30kms and then turned onto gravel and immediately went north almost back to the border, arriving at Pali Aike National park, named after the indigenous peoples who lived in this area. The ranger at the park warned us to watch out for pumas. We were happy to put our national park passes to use, and drove back to the camping area. We knew there were shelters here, and saw on the registry a couple from the US had checked in the day before. We hoped we'd get to make new friends! Alas, we found the campground abandoned, but were happy the shelters were around. We opted to set up the tent in one of the 3 sided shelters, then took a walk around one of the extinct volcano craters, seeing a cave that was excavated in the 1930's with evidence of humans dating back over 6 thousand years. Later that evening we cooked a nice meal of chorizo and mashed potatoes. We had just poured ourselves some vino and turned on an episode of the Simpsons, and then we both sat down on the same side of the rickety picnic table and the damn thing tipped over on us. Doh!

That night we ended up being extremely grateful for the tent shelter, as the wind was incredibly strong and there were bursts of heavy rain, which sounded like a torrent on the corrugated metal shelter. The wind would periodically list and drop the roof as well, which made it sound like the end of the world. The night sky was amazingly crisp and clear, though. Alas, we didn't see any pumas.

We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

Panorama from within the volcanic crater.

We debated setting up our tent inside the cozy cave, where they found evidence of humans from more than 6000 years ago.

Ferry from the mainland to the island of Tierra del Fuego.

Waiting for the winds to calm so we can board the ferry.

Ike braving the extreme winds to cook lunch for us during our 6 hour wait for the ferry.

Landscape of northern Tierra del Fuego.

We awoke the next morning to even stronger wind, and drove to the ferry that would take us onto the island of Tierra del Fuego. As we drove up, though, we saw a long line. Pulling past many of the semis and getting to the end of the car line, we could see whitecaps on the waves in the Straight of Magellan from the wind. We went to one of the buildings to confirm what we suspected: the wind was too strong for the ferry to make the crossing. It would maybe run later. Later was purposefully left open-ended. We arrived at 9-ish in the morning. By 2 in the afternoon, we were prepared to spend the night there. Then, miraculously [and without any real change in the wind] the ferries began pulling around. We were on the first one, and like that [20 minutes] we were across and disembarking onto the Land of Fire! We realized that we didn't have a ton of sunlight left though, and our dash for the border back into Argentina was hampered by paved road that turned to rough gravel with lots of traffic. Nevertheless, we made it to the border, but then called it quits after making it back into Argentina. We pulled into the hotel that was right on the other side of the border crossing, used what scraps of food remained to make a dinner of tuna and sundried tomatoes in red sauce with pasta. Luckily, the bottle of wine made up for the food. [actually, it was half decent!]

Tuna and pasta for dinner, and plastic flowers to celebrate our arrival to Tierra del Fuego.

As the km's dropped, we began to realize we were approaching Ushuaia: the southernmost point of our trip and a real landmark for an overlanding trip through the Americas. Sure, we weren't ending here, but this was still something special. The land had been wide open grassland in Tierra del Fuego for the few hundred km's we'd driven so far, but I'd remembered reading the blog of another overlanding couple from when they'd arrived here and had it in my head that it was mountainous and scenic. As I was thinking this, mountains began to rise in the distance: snow-capped and beautiful. The last 100km's coming into the city serve as almost a victory lap for a trip like this: swells and dives along the road, shimmering lakes, vibrant fall colors of orange, yellow, red on the green trees, bright white snow on the higher peaks. Huge grins were on our faces as we approached. We passed several different bicyclists, laden with lots of gear and clearly other overlanders. Each time we passed we rolled down the windows and stuck our arms out giving big thumbs-up signs. As fun as this was for us, the sense of accomplishment to them must be incredible. And like that, we turned a corner and saw the towers, announcing our arrival in El Fin del Mundo (the End of the World).

All ferries and border crossings complete, the only thing between us and Ushuaia are the kilometers.

The landscape changed from flat grasslands...

To craggly forest...

To beautiful mountains and lakes...

And even snow!

A little giddy.

#NoFilter

We made it!

View overlooking Ushuaia Bay.

Long ways to Bs As.

Colorful port city.

Beautiful sunny afternoon on our first day in Ushuaia.

Sun setting behind the mountains.

Ahh, the Argentine butcher shop!

And then the snow arrived.

 Across the bay; the other half of Ushuaia

 Looking back towards the city. WHAT A VIEW!

The next day we took an afternoon boat tour of Ushuaia bay, seeing birds that looked kinda like penguins except they could fly (imperial shags), sea lions, and a tiny lighthouse at the end of the bay. It was a bit of a dud of a tour, but I'm convinced we are just spoiled by traveling at our own pace. We get to see exactly what we want to see, exactly when we feel like seeing it. And if we are bored? We move on. Not so on these organized tours. But you do learn the answers to questions such as, "Why the hell is there a city of 60,000 people this far south?" Turns out the government wanted to encourage more people to live down here (to legitimize their claim to the land?), so in the 70s they created tax incentives for businesses located in Ushuaia. Within 10 years the city's population had increased five-fold. Yes, five-fold. At the time the city did not have formal lots laid out, hence the chaotic layout of today's Ushuaia. 

 "FLYING PENGUINS!" - Bethany

 Pictured: Ike and Pete

Blerg?

 How I look when I'm listening to Mumford and Sons

 GET IT!

 Sunnin' hard

We recovered from the lame tour with a mountain of meat. Argentina, I love you!

Celebratory parrilla for dinner!

 YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

The next morning we had a bit of sunshine, so we drove up to the Martial Glacier near Ushuaia. We were shocked to see how much snow they had up there, compared to the light dusting down in the town. We hiked up the snowy ski runs for a beautiful view overlooking Ushuaia Bay. The snow was perfect for building a snowman, so we built ourselves a tiny one in between the snowy gusts of Patagonian wind that tried to blow us back down the mountain. We were happy we had a warm, dry place to return to that evening. Even better, we got to watch Wisconsin beat Kentucky in the Final Four game! Go Badgers!

 Things boding well for the day!

Why...why are we camping here again?

 See how the sky goes from blue to white? Tons of squalls coming down off the mountain

 You done good, Sweetcakes.

I loved all the color popping through the snow.

The mountain streams were rushing with the new snow melt.

 Still a kid at heart

 Sure it was cold; but views like this make it worth it....

 Easter vigil

Easter morning we awoke to a beautiful sunrise over the city. The wind had died down a bit and the sky was clear. We packed up and drove a few kilometers down the road to Tierra del Fuego National Park. We hiked a couple of the trails, mailed some postcards from the Fin del Mundo, and drove Sweetcakes to the end of Ruta 3. As the sun began to set behind the mountains, we set up camp in one of the park's campgrounds. We were surprised to read in the park pamphlet that you could collect wood from within the park to build fires, so we each collected an armload of twigs and small branches. Ike went to work lighting our fire, a skill he hasn't put to use since... Canada? Not 5 minutes later the park ranger rolls in and tells us we can't use the local wood for campfires. Turns out it is allowed elsewhere in the park, but not in that particular campground. Oops. With our dreams of a warm campfire and an excuse to use our rainbow fire sticks shattered, we broke out our camp stove and cooked dinner in the wind. Yippee.

Easter morning in Ushuaia.

 End of the world post office.  Sweet mustacioed man inside, with a bazillion stamps to cover your postcard in. I'd hope so for $5 per card.

Not a bad Sunday hike

 For a brief time, the Southernmost 4Runner in the world?

 THIS IS HOW COOL PEOPLE STAND

 End of the road; Antarctica eventually!

 You know it's a good waterfall when Ike asks: "So, where's the waterfall?"

 What did I just say about being a kid?

 Sweetcakes acting as windbreak

 View from the campsite

The next morning we headed back into town to find a mechanic. Sweetcake's power steering had been squealing for a week or so, and even though it worked fine, we figured we should have it looked at before we head towards the very rural Carretera Austral in Chile. Actually, we had no problems with the power steering until the (highly recommended) mechanics in Bogota had to drain the line for a repair... thanks for the expensive botch job, guys! We stopped at the first mechanic's place we saw, but they were all booked up for 2 weeks. Luckily there was a Toyota dealership in town. They listened to the sound and said our power steering fluid was just low. Ike and I weren't completely convinced, but they topped us up for free and said the noise should subside within a couple of days once the air worked its way out of the lines.

Now that we had made it to Ushuaia, we could slow down our travel pace a bit. So I begged Ike to pull over on the way to our campground that evening and we had a beautiful midday hike near Lago Escondido. That night we stayed at Camping Hain. I guess the extreme latitudes attract the kooky campground hosts, because this hodge-podge campground reminded us of the one we stayed at in Dawson City, way up the Yukon Territory of Canada. With a beautiful view of the snowy mountains, hot showers, and a place for travelers to leave their mark, we loved this place!

I mean...I guess we can stop if it's like this. 

The views down here are just amazeballs 

Adding ourselves to the wall! :)

We had planned to get up very early in order to visit a colony of penguins before catching a ferry off the island at 2pm, on top of the 4 hours of driving and a border crossing (our 7^th between Chile/Argentina!). Apparently we have forgotten how to set an alarm on this trip, because we accidentally set it for 6:30pm. We woke up at 8, decided to skip the penguins, and make a mad dash for the ferry. The border crossing was easy (and Chile didn't confiscate any food, for once!) and we made it to the ferry dock with plenty of time to spare.

Chilling out as we wait to get off the ferry into Punta Arenas. Not going anywhere soon.

A couple of hours later we arrived in Punta Arenas, back on the mainland. We zipped into a grocery store, bawked after spending $30 on two small bags of groceries, and then headed south along Chile's Ruta 9. We drove more or less to the end of the road, the southernmost part of the mainland continent. Boom! That night we found a place to park along the coast, caught a glimpse of a dolphin in the cold ocean, and crawled into Sweetcakes to stay warm and dry for the night.

 Now this is fun

The next morning we woke up to a windy drizzle. We gave up on soldiering to the very end of the road, which by now was a muddy mess, and headed back up to Punta Arenas. As we write this we are holed up in a hostel, where its warm and dry, waiting on Sweetcakes to be fixed up by the mechanic. We took her to a shop in town to get a second opinion on the whiny power steering, and it turns out we need to repair the pump. $315 to buy a new pump, or $175 for them to repair the current one. Goodbye, budget!

You are in the Geographic center of Chile! [because we count Antarctica....] orfl orfl