Villa O'Higgins-Ushuaia, last but not least stretch

It is about time to tell you about the last weeks about my journey before it's too old to remember! I am actually back in the Yukon, and it is a bit heartbreaking to go through these memories that already feel so far away, even though I've been only back for a week.

So let's get back where we stopped! At the end of the Carretera Austral, in Villa O'Higgins, I (and many other cyclists) took an old-fashioned boat to get to the Chilean border. It was actually a great occasion to get to know better many cyclists, as I had been mostly cycling alone during the days I hadn't had that much time to get to know them, just crossing their path here and there. The lake was not really peaceful, and the trip fairly long (4 hours)... An hour more and at least 4 or 5 of us would have been really sick. It was awesome to all reunite on the boat, I even met Flo and Tom again, that I had met once before in the middle of the Salar de Uyuni. They were really surprised to see me as I had told them at the time that I was going back home in December. Plans change...

Once we all went through the Chilean border, 22 km of rough, mostly trekking trails awaited us to reach the Argentinian border. I crossed with fellow biker Jorge and his fat bike and a bunch of fun young trekkers, while the rest of the bikers took a bit more time as they gave a hand to the Arthur and Caro to get their tandem through all of this (which was not the easiest).We crossed many creeks, went through mud ponds (I didn't feel safe getting my camera out at these moments) and pretty narrow trails to end up on a magnificent view of the Laguna del Desierto, with the infamous Fitz Roy that we could guess through the clouds at the other end of the lake. This was probably one of the most physical and fun days of my entire trip, I was on such a high of endorphins that I barely felt the weight of my bike and paniers while puching it in uphills. We arrived in the evening at the Argentinian border where we set up camp, the wind was so strong even in the forest that I woke up covered in dust. The next morning we had to take another boat through Lago del Desierto to get to a dirt road that led to El Chalten. Unfortunately the boat didn't come in the morning as it was supposed to, and my fellow cyclist Jorge decided to get to the other side of the lake by taking a 15 km hiking trail that followed the lake side. I started hiking with him, pushing our bikes, but after 15 mn I decided to go check out the trail a bit more and decided I wasn't going to continue, as it was a little steep trail in the mountains and that I had used all my energy the previous day; Jorge decided to go on his own and that we'd meet later. I went back to the Argentinian customs and it turned out that a boat just arrived minutes later, I could imagine Jorge frustrated of his decision... I'll learn later that he made it through half of the trail in five hours before abandonning his bike as the day was ending and he didn't have warm gear nor much food left. So he had to go back there the next day with two other friends to get his bike back. I'd only see him again as he was getting on a bus, giving up biking as he had seriously damaged his achilles. I guess he wanted to test himself choosing that route, he definitely met his limits!

On the road to El Chalten I was pretty amazed by the landscape; I didn't know before getting there that this little town had become a mecca for trekkers, and there is a good reason for that, you can look at 360 degrees around you and only see the most beautiful views of rivers, mountains and glaciers. It was a bit of a shock to arrive in a touristy area after leaving the rather wild Carretera Austral that I'd miss until the end of the trip (and still do). I also had my first encounter with the infamous Patagonian winds, as they through me off my bike like an invisible hand; the wind gusts were so strong for about half an hour that I had to stop and sit with my face covered, as rocks were flying all over. Another reminder of the amazing power of mother nature... As all the other fellow cyclists arrived in town we enjoyed some great meals all together, we felt that the days were counted before the end of the trip and wanted to enjoy some time together as much as possible.

When leaving El Chalten I finally decided to go to El Calafate although it was not my initial plan; everybody told me I couldn't miss the glacier there and I wanted to enjoy the group energy for a few more days. I continued biking on my own during the day but would be happy to meet some friends for lunch time and for camping at night. I encountered this sign above that explicitely reminded us to beware of the wind, I now knew what it meant... It was quite a change from the lush vegetation we had been through further up north, as these were the first kilometers of the toundra we'd be enjoying until the end of the trip. It was funny to meet some emus, the ostrich's cousins; these birds have suc a particular shape!

Was I happy to go to El Calafate and go see that famous glacier? Well hello yes! Even though I've had the chance to meet a few glaciers in the north (yes, meet, as I consider them as very alive) but never had I had the chance to see one like this. I spent an entire day with Tom and Flo contemplating it from head to toe, through different lights as the sun followed its route. I think meeting a glacier is the most humbling experience possible, you feel so tiny compared to these peaceful giants.

Back on the road with Marcelle and Claudine, we planned to reach the Park Torres del Paine where we were hoping to bike through it. Turned out the wind was so strong we gave up this idea pretty quickly, and headed directly to Puerto Natales. We slept two nights close to road maintenance buildings where the guys were incredibly welcoming, allowing us to take a shower, use the kitchen, in short it was a better service than most campgrounds and for free. I guess they're that welcoming because of their culture, and also because it can be pretty sketchy to camp around with the wind (yes I'll talk about this natural element quite a bit until the end of this post...). On our last day to reach Puerto Natales back in Chile, we had a pretty intense day, the face and side winds pushed us to practice our drifting (I thought it was perfect for the next Haines to Haines bike relay). We biked 115 km, climbed 1300 m with wind, rain and snow. In other words, we were really happy to enjoy a good restaurant when we arrived in town, still pretty excited by our fun day (as you probably noticed through the last months, the most challenging days turn out to be my most fun days, now that I can handle them better than in Bolivia...).

After a couple of days in Puerto Natales, enjoying my friends for the last time (the end of the road/ feel was getting stronger and stronger) I got back on the road on my own, as I wanted to ride the last part on my own, the way I had started my trip. I went through endless prairies filled with adorable lambs, admired the multicoloured Patagonian lupines, took the time to digest everything I had lived for the last months. On my way to Punta Arenas I spent a night sheltered by an old hangar as advised by the local police; the wind blew so hard all night long I could just see the entire wooden frame shake so hard I ust thought I was going to die crashed under its debris when it would collapse. At 3 in the morning I even got out as the wind was reaching its peak, but eventually I was so tired I just decided to take the risk and I did actually survive. The next afternoon side winds would eventually become so strong that I'd have to stop and sit and hide my face again; as it wasn't getting any better by the end of the day and there was no shelter around for my tent I gave up and hitchhiked the last 80 km to Punta Arenas. I actually wasn't less scared in the car as the driver found it very fun to drive at 150 km/h while reading text messages on his phone, as the wind gusts would shake the entire truck. I did survive to that, too, and was quite reassured to see that all the bikers I met at the hostel also had ended the day hitchhiking, it was not just me who was a whimp, it was actually challenging for everybody.

I enjoyed a couple of days in Punta Arenas, which is quite a big city; how strange is it to have experienced the end of the world on the Carretera Austral only to find a fully developped area further down south? And people warned me to expect the same as I'd arrive closer from Ushuaia. I crossed the infamous Magellanes Straight, and even though the ferry was fairly big, 3 meters waves shook us for three hours. A kind German cyclist offered my an anti-seasick pill which I gladly accepted, as most of the ferry's passengers emptied their breakfast in the toilets over the trip. As I watched the big waves crashing on the side of the boat I could imagine Indigenous people crossing on their little canoes, fighting the elements.

Here I was, on the legendary Terra del Fuego (the land of fire). After biking about 40 km, totally captivated by my surroundings I stopped violently in the middle of a downhill as something was going wrong with my bike. After a quick glance I realized that my front axle had broken, and I felt like this was probably the end of the bike ride. I could either go back to Punta Arenas to get it repaired, but wouldn't have time to go back to the Terra del Fuego then, or I could hitchhike to Ushuaia, but the idea of arriving there by car didn't tempt me at all. So I walked for a bit pushing my bike, until I met a fisherman close from his shack. I started chatting with him, explaining my problem, and he started looking at the broken piece, the bike, and went to get his friend and a mettal saw. I wasn't quite sure about his plan, but he thinned my front racks where they are attached by the axle, and managed to put everything back together with the half centimeter of screw that was left on the axle, and in less than an hour I was back on the road. I was so impressed by these men who maybe don't even know how to write or read, but have developped amazing problem solving skills. And I'll be forever grateful as they allowed me to achieve my dreams.

I felt emotional as these were the last days of the trip but also because I thought about the first people of this land. This land was named after the first people had made fire on the coast when explorers arrived. I read that they were 3000 when the explorers arrived, but as these famous adventurers shot them as they pleased, there were only a few hundreds left after a few years. When I think about it I can't believe that the first people of the Americas were considered for so long as the savages, and that the explorers are still celebrated through the use of their names for places, such as the Magellanese straight, although these same men would be trialled for crimes against humanity if they were perpetrating the same crimes nowadays. Having visited or lived in a few places now on this continent, from North to South, I grew a profound realization of what European explorers and other Pilgrims have destroyed in such a short period of time (they arrived in the Yukon and the Terra del Fuego about the same time, in the late 1800) compared to the time humankind has lived on this continent. It gives me vertigo just to think about it, and the fact that generations of kids (and adults) read the conquistadors' adventures, stories of the discovery of the "new world" and dream about them disturbs me. Of course these books often omit the atrocities of the genocide of the First People. From North to South, the gold fever often accompanied these dramatic episodes of history. What would this continent be like if Europeans hadn't invaded the Americas? I'm not saying it would have been all perfect, the Incas might have destroyed quite a few of these cultures to build their Empire, but at least Potosi's silver miners would have worked and suffered for the enrichment of their own region, not for some people enjoying their Bolivian silver coins in their faraway European countries. I won't pretend to know historic facts well enough to make a thorough analysis of conquests and human migrations, my knowledge has come mostly from stories and opinions people have been sharing with me these last months, but these are enough to feed long days of thinking while riding.

After a last night of camping and a last day of biking on the unpaved Chilean road, I arrived to the Argentinian border where once again I benefited from the Argentinian hospitality as I was able to cook and sleep in a waiting room at the customs. The next days were back on the paved road, with heavier and fast traffic until Ushuaia, nothing of an end of the road feel as I had been warned. I got mad after drivers in a way I hadn't been in a long time, as they would just honk at me, expecting I'd get off the road each time to let them pass (which of course I wouldn't do). I was also hosted in an Estancia (one of these gigantic properties with huge herds of cows or sheep), then in a bakery whose owner was welcoming every biker coming through Tolhuin. I biked the last 100 km of the trip under the rain and in the fog, before arriving, finally, in Ushuaia. During the entire trip I hadn't shed a single tear, even during the toughest moments, and 10 km before the end a jeep passed by me and all the passengers openes their windows and cheered at me, shouting "yaay, contratulations, you made it!", and suddenly my emotional valve reopenned and I cried all my soul, of happiness, of sadness, of everything, realizing what I just had accomplished, and how long I had imagined that moment.

I spent my last day in Ushuaia hiking with Daan, a Dutch cyclist I had met a few days before. We were pretty amazed by the kind of landscape we found at the border of the city, I guess we just didn't expect the southern end of the world that way. It was another day in this paradise we call planet Earth, that I never get tired of discovering.

I slowly returned north, not without spending one last week in Santiago, where I started feeling pretty confortable as it was my third visit. I enjoyed some time with Rodrigo, Maïté and Carmen who had welcomed me each time I'd be in town, and with my favourite Chilean cyclists, Oscar and Pedro that I had met a month earlier. They made me visit every single corner of the city centre just as Michelle Bachelet was taking over as new President, and hike the surrounding mountains, which made me really appreciate this city. I also met Javiera, an artist friend of a friend who had moved back to Chile after living for 5 years in Montreal, which gave me a better insight into the field of arts and culture. Between her and a couple of really interesting sisters I met, I felt like I could find some good friends to hang out with here, and that this shouldn't be my last visit.

The last time I had travelled for a long period of time was the year I arrived in Canada, and I did not return to France after that trip. It was a bit difficult this time to leave as I had enough time to really get attached to this country and its people, but the Yukon has called me back for now; still I will continue learning Spanish and life will tell what comes next for me!

I really thank those of you who have followed me here, I really enjoyed sharing this experience with you, I hope this inspires you to follow your dreams, whatever they are.

Comments

[Jonas]

Hi Stephanie,

can I ask how long it took you to get from O'Higgins to Ushuaia? Thanks for the great post!

[Stefanie]

Hello Stephanie! I am also a female solo cyclist and would like to get some advice about your trip. I will be traveling through some of the same parts as your trip starting this September for 5-6 months. Could we exchange emails? Mine is stefanieogawa@yahoo.com. Look forward to hearing from you! And CONGRATULATIONS!!!

[Roues Libres]

Que de chemins, de routes, de sentiers et de lacs parcourus! Bravo steph, on était là à la Paz pour le départ, c'esr magique d'imaginer tout ce periple. On a lu tes etapes avec beaucoup de plaisir etant nous meme passes par là. Bonne route stephane y jerome

[Stephanie Chevalier]

Hello Stéphane et Jérôme! J'ai suivi un peu vos derniers mois de voyages, c'est drôle de voir comment ça se passe pour les amis parti dans le sens opposé!
Me voici de retour, je pensais être prête mais réalise que ça prendra du temps pour réellement descendre de mon vélo, mon corps est dans le nord mais mon coeur et mon âme sont restés coincés entre Ushuaia et Santiago...
Merci pour vos précieux conseils de départ, et je vous souhaite encore plein de beaux moments en Colombie et où que votre route vous mène après!