I am, for better or worse, done with this trip. But not done, because my odometer says 2950km, so agonizingly close to 3000km, and with plenty of excess energy to finish it off sometime this week. I want to go to the end of Ruta 3, which is basically the end of a string of roads that starts in Alaska.
Tierra del Fuego is not for camping. It is flat, windy, freezing cold and devoid of protected areas. There are no trees, save for a few that have been mistakenly transplanted and are in the process of getting uprooted by the aforementioned wind. My host one night told me that it is impossible to generate wind power down here because the largest of windmills just aren’t strong enough to withstand the onslaught. I have made it to Rio Grande Argentina, on the Atlantic coast of South America, after pushing myself to my physical limits for one last time yesterday and limping here on sore knees today. I’m in the final stretch, with only about 230km left to Ushuaia.
This blog post brought to you in three parts, as it’s apparently been almost two weeks since I updated. These were composed on three separate occasions in my tent. I figure this is the best way to try to show you how my trip to Torres del Paine went. It’s hard to really do a “Torres del Paine” blog post when you’re on bike, because the approach, trek, and exit are all 3-4 day experiences in themselves.
Quick post today. I wasn’t going to head to El Calafate originally, but I was drawn to the mountains across Lago Argentino, and needed a reprieve from the sudden change in direction of the wind. So, to make this post somewhat useful, I’m going to give a short update and then throw up some resources that might be of interest to future travelers along this route.
Out of Tres Lagos, I understood that there would be one pretty bad day, going almost directly west to Lago Viedma. And it was. 70km, about 2/3 of it mostly of it straight into a headwind to what most cyclists refer to as “The Pink Hotel.” The Pink Hotel is an abandoned restaurant where many travelers stay on their Ruta 40 journey. On one wall is a “cyclist register,” and on the other a “motorcyclist register.” Fun to look through past occupants, and a must stop if you see it along your journey.