Pat’Alaska, Part 2: Punta Arenas - Torres del Paine - El Calafate
Can you spot Ilse? Riding into Torres del Paine between granite giants is definitely a sight etched into our memories…
We started our bikepacking journey in Ushuaia and have traveled the island of Tierra del Fuego via the “Fin Del Mundo” route. Now, we are in the heart of Patagonia and continue our way up North…
Thanks for reading along! You can support our journey by becoming a Patreon member and access live updates, stories and early video-releases — and maybe even a postcard from our next destination. Cheers!
Rest, Repairs and Recharging for the Road ahead
We finally left the island of Tierra del Fuego behind. We’re on the mainland of South-America now!
We spend a week in Punta Arenas— editing our first trip video, showering, and eating lots of food. We stay in the cosy apartment of hosts Roxana and José, a lovely Chilean couple who takes excellent care of us. The hospitality and kindness we have received so far is incredible...
In between editing, we make some phone calls to family and friends, visit Margoni Bikes to get new chains and cassettes for our Surly bicycles, format our camera’s memory cards and eventually set off again on Highway 9, heading north!
Punta Arenas to Puerto Natales: Battling the elements
Our first day out of town is a short one. Since there aren’t many good camping spots along the busy highway, we camp at Parque Chabunco, a public camping area overlooking the Strait of Magellan. We sleep for at least 10 hours that night—who would've thought town stays could be so exhausting? 🙂
The stretch from Punta Arenas to Puerto Natales is relatively short (about 230 kilometers), but we manage to stretch it over 4 long, tiring days. The fierce winds slow us down significantly, and in the process, we've learned to stop fighting them. Instead, we - rather ungracefully - lean into them and try to follow their rhythm… That means, pedaling slowly and wobbly on the shoulder of the highway. Both Ryan and I overcome the worst parts of the day with some good music or an interesting podcast.
Slow-going on Highway 9, accompanied by a motorcyclist.
Highway 9 offers little shelter, but we get lucky every now and then! Along the way, there are a few places of refuge (mainly bus stops) where weary travelers can escape the weather for a while. Even though some of the windows are broken in the bus stops, it does the job!
Left: A tribute for the wind. / Middle: A bus stop, and a true lifesaver from time to time. / Right: Ruta 9
On the second day, fierce wind gusts force us to go into hiding twice: First in a hostel under construction, where the kind owner lets us eat lunch inside. Secondly, in an unlocked refugio, where we watch wildlife through the window before falling into a sound sleep.
Left: A free refugio next to the highway. / Right: Watching a skunk - from a safe distance - dance around the refugio
The last morning, we race to Villa Tehuelches for a feast of coffee and muffins, which fuels us for the rest of our journey to Puerto Natales.
Puerto Natales: Gateway to Torres del Paine
We stay three days in Puerto Natales, enjoying late-night walks under a half-full moon along the bay and meeting fellow bike-packers at the hostel downtown. The city is small and charming, although obviously catered to tourists. Nonetheless, we feel at home straightaway!
Quote by author Isra Al-Thibeh.
We decide to splurge and treat ourselves to a gin cocktail at Last Hope Distillery— the southernmost distillery in the world! We simply could not let that opportunity go by, right? :)
Not that Ryan and I are gin connoisseurs - if anything, we like beer best - but we make an exception every now and then. We drink two fizzy, pink gin cocktails that earn our wholehearted stamp of approval!
Bottom left: Eyes closed = sign of approval! / Top right: Sign of the city and statue of the mysterious Mylodon.
Before leaving town, we stock up on noodles and couscous as our main food supply in Torres Del Paine National Park. We heard so many stories of travellers and locals, and can’t wait to lay eyes on the park ourselves. Feeling both intrigued and intimidated by the online camping permit system (via different companies) and rather complex logistics, we aren’t quite sure what to do… Most travelers seem to have booked permits weeks or months beforehand, and arranging things last-minute isn’t very ideal. In the end, we just decide to plan nothing and see what happens! Plans usually change anyway.
One day at a time, one moment at a time, one step at a time, … Words to live by :)
For the first time since we left Ushuaia behind, we’re back in the mountains! It feels like a gift, after the rough start we’ve had, to be surrounded again by snowy peaks and green hills. With stunning views left and right, we cycle past the Cueva del Milodón, a large cave where remnants of the extinct Mylodon were found (see photo with the “Puerto Natales” sign). We meet more and more fellow bikepackers, flying by on their way south. So far, we have only met one other person cycling north. Most cyclists are either French, German or Spanish. I have heard rumors of a Flemish cyclist, but have yet to run into him or her :)
We bike downhill the incredibly scenic route beside Lago del Toro and set up camp right before the park boundary at Rio Serrano— a great river for fishing. Villa Serrano is a teeny-tiny, touristy hotspot that borders the park and caters to many tourists. We pass by expensive lodges and hotels, but since our budget doesn’t allow this, we camp in the town’s backyard - for free! And we’re not the only ones here…
Ryan photographing fluffy baby geese and their proud, watchful parents.
Late night drone shot of Villa Serrano. We were camped right by the river Serrano.
Exploring Torres del Paine by bike
The following morning, we venture excitedly into the park and stop at the entrance station - there’s nothing quite like proper bathrooms with toilet paper and soap after days of digging holes in the ground! We pay the entrance fee - $32 per person, yikes - and head off towards the famous mountains, the Torres and Cuernos family.
Riding the gravel road into the park and feeling mighty small in a place of granite giants…
Stopping at almost every corner to gawk, it’s clear that we need some time to take in the beauty of this place and squander around. In other words: Time for a day off! We spend two nights at Lago Péhoe campground ($36 per night for two) and wander around by bike and on foot. It feels good to be a tourist sometimes and take some time off the bike.
Early-morning sunrise shot, with the towers bathing in a pink backdrop.
The park is actually relatively small with just one or two roads, currently under construction. It’s a lot of fun exploring the park on bikes— we have the freedom to stop and explore without parking hassles… though we do need to watch out for tourist buses and construction trucks sharing the road. Most vehicles, however, drive carefully and give us plenty of space. One bus even pulls over and give us two chocolate bars - trail magic at its finest! We spot condors soaring in the wind and take in views of aquamarine lakes and glaciers from afar.
Cycling Through Patagonias Fierce Winds: Embrace the Unexpected
When the weather turns sour, we leave the park on the Y-156. This road is technically still under construction, but the park ranger ("guardaparque") assures us it is safe and allows us to pass through the road blocks. The construction workers kindly escort us all the way to Lago Sarmiento, where the road turns 90 degrees and we suddenly face brutal sidewinds coming from the west. With gusts up to 70 km/h, it feels like a massive fan is blowing us sideways! Forced off our bikes, we take shelter in a shack and crawl into our sleeping bags, desperately trying to stay warm in the windstorm.
Left: “Where does all that rain come from?” / Right: Home for the night.
Cyclists, or tourist attraction?
Every 15 minutes, tourist buses pull over, with 10 to 20 people hopping out to photograph Lago Sarmiento— and us! The past few weeks, we were often asked for a photo by both locals and travelers, but now we experience one camera flash after the other. We wonder: How many random photo albums will we end up in? :)
The relentless wind whistles on, leaving us no choice but to spend the night in the shelter. Our tent barely fits, and even though the creaking roof keeps us awake most of the night, at least we’re safe!
We see why so many buses make a pitstop: The view of Lago Sarmiento is magnificent.
The following day, we hurry out of our sleeping bags, eager to be on the move again. The wind, though still fierce, has eased significantly. On our way to Cerro Castillo (a small ‘pueblo’ bordering with Argentina), we motivate ourselves by talking about podcasts we’ve listened to, particularly an interview with “Mistborn” author Brandon Sanderson. Ryan is currently reading the books, and I put them on my to-read list.
We raid the minimarket in Cerro Castillo and fuel up on sandwiches with bell pepper and zucchini omelets. After lunch, it’s time to bid Chile farewell and cross into Argentina via Paso Rio Don Guillermo. We meet an Australian motorcyclist and we share some tales of the road. That evening, we ride with a tailwind, making our riding surprisingly easy… So this is what it feels like to ride a bike properly? What a feeling… 😊
Back in Argentina on the Ruta Cuerenta
After riding many miles on Ruta Cuarenta (R40) without seeing a single soul or shelter—except for one French bikepacker and a few cars—, we arrive at a crossroads around 8 PM. There's an abandoned gas station, a random police station, and an AVGP station. The attendant in the latter offers us a container with two mattresses for the night, for $10,000 (roughly €10). We gratefully accept and settle into the old container, sheltered from the howling winds. We cook inside and fall asleep shortly after dinner.
The final 100 kilometers on the way to El Calafate are mellow and peaceful, with long stretches of gravel and concrete riding, plus tailwinds propelling us forward. Here, we encounter several bikepackers heading north to south—including a very brave couple on a tandem (!!) and a Welsh cyclist who has ridden all the way from Alaska (hats off to both). We stop at an abandoned police station for a leftover lunch of slightly shriveled sandwiches with sticky cheese and dulce de leche. The walls are covered with messages from travelers over the years, and it's pretty magical to read all the names and quotes from people around the world. (See photo above)
A never-ending sea of yellow. The repetitiveness of the pampa is slightly boring, but can be meditative at times.
A magical night before El Calafate…
Our last night before reaching El Calafate is one of our favourite moments of the trip so far… We camp next to the road, but far enough to be out of sight. After pushing our bikes up the hill, the evening light turns orange and pink. In the distance, the peak of Mount Fitz Roy, or Mount Chaltén, and its brothers and sisters grace the skyline . Not long before we crawl in our sleeping bags, the moon slowly rises from the hill beneath the tent. We bathe in the moonlight and realize once more that the best things in life are free…
So, what’s next?
A new chapter, a new struggle: Ryan has discovered some serious cracks around his tire's spokes, so our priority is getting his bike back in shape before visiting the glacier of Perito Moreno, the iconic towns of El Chaltén and Villa O'Higgins, and ride the beloved Carretera Austral ... To be continued!
Thanks for reading and following along! You can support our journey by becoming a Patreon member and get access to live updates and early video-releases — maybe even receive a postcard from our next destination :) Cheers!
Pat’Alaska, Part 1: “Fin Del Mundo” — Bikepacking at the End of the World
We’re cycling from Patagonia to Alaska! We leave from Ushuaia, where we start the ‘Fin Del Mundo’ bikepacking route and finish in Punta Arenas.
Thanks for reading along! You can support our journey by watching this episode on Youtube and becoming a Patreon member for live updates, stories and early video-releases. Cheers!
Statistics:
Length: 628 km
Avg. Speed: 12 km or 7.5 mi/hr
Days: 13 (from south to north)
Resupply Points: Tolhuin, Pampa Guanaco, Cameron
Start: Ushuaia (Argentina)
End: Punta Arenas (Chile)
Inspiration: Bikepacking.com
Bikepacking the Fin Del Mundo
We have successfully finished our bikepacking trip from Ushuaia, Argentina to Punta Arenas in Chile! In two weeks time, we crossed the Tierra Del Fuego, at the very southern tip of South America. This is about the closest you can get to Antarctica - and it shows! The land is rugged, windswept and even has some penguin colonies. History looms around every corner - from the Strait of Magellan (named after the European sailor in 1520 who discovered the archipelago), the Beagle Channel (not the cute dogs, but the surveying ship with Charles Darwin) and the Drake Passage (not the Canadian rapper, but Sir Francis Drake who accidentally ended up in these frigid waters).
Ushuaia (population: 82,615) is an interesting town, and has a few decent camping and cycling stores. Beware, though: There is no wide selection of products due to import restrictions, so try to bring all your gear with you and, if possible, not lose your luggage during the flight - LOL 🙂
Celebrating the beginning of our journey at the famous ‘Ushuaia’ sign!
Leaving Ushuaia behind
On the 8th of January, our bikepacking trek begins! With bags loaded with food and over 6 liters of water each, we set out on the official route. Leaving the streets of Ushuaia behind, we turn onto a gravel coast road that hugs the shoreline. It doesn’t take long before the narrow forest trail forces us off our bikes… Here comes the hike-a-bike!
We push our heavily-loaded bikes up and down grassy paths, meeting hikers and mountainbikers along the way. At one point, we cross farmlands and carefully hoist our bikes over the fence of an estancia (cattle ranch). The first river crossing - over Rio Encajonado - marks the point where the crowds disappear, leaving us to our own senses.
The perfect camp spot for spotting cruise ships and whales.
On a small hill overlooking the Beagle Channel, with Ushuaia fading in the distance, we set up camp. It’s late, but the summer sun lingers here - reminding us of the Swedish midsummer nights on the Kungsleden - and the winds slow down completely. Ryan excitedly roams around the campsite with his camera, while I settle into a detective novel (the Ruth Galloway-series, I’m a huge fan!) and soon sink into a deep sleep.
The Horrible Hike-A-Bike Continues
The sun fills the tent as we open our eyes and hear the birds’ orchestra. It’s 10 a.m. - clearly, we needed the rest. After two morning coffees and a handful of granola, we pack up and push our bikes up-and-downhill. Hand-to-heart, beginning the route like this is really challenging. Carrying our 40+ kilo bikes, we navigate fallen tree trunks, overgrown trails, and muddy slopes. Bloodied and dirty, we rely on teamwork to get us through the morning. I distract myself with a podcast to stay focused, while Ryan guides our bikes around obstacles when my energy falters.
Two of my favorite things to do: Snacking and resting.
A few hours later, we emerge from the forest, feeling like Indiana Jones! We follow the coastline, walking across a pebble beach before reaching another river crossing. On the far side, we stumble upon an abandoned farm, and dreams of an “off-grid, homestead life” pop up in our minds. For the first time that day, we climb back on our bikes - thank the stars!
Pedaling at last, with a mountain range on the left and the sea stretching out to our right, we ride through flowery fields as the evening falls. We are in a military zone now, but luckily for us, there is no troop or division to be seen. Today’s challenges are slowly disappearing from our minds as we set up our tent near the shoreline and watch the sky darken.
Seaside Treasures and Angry Dog Encounters
Left: The island is home to many crested caracaras, always on the lookout.
Right: The scenic Highway 3, that the route manages to escape most days.
The following day, the gravel road winds through soft and undulating terrain. We ride past small fisher villages and seafood restaurants. Even under a light drizzle, the ride is pleasant and easygoing… That is, until we approach Ruta Tres (Highway 3). Out of nowhere, a pack of aggressive dogs -four, maybe five- comes charging at Ryan. The alpha dog blocks his path, teeth bared, and refuses to let him through. We shout and clap our hands, but eventually, we have no other choice but to grab rocks and throw them in their direction to ensure our safe passage.
Encounters like these can be kinda nerve-wracking. Aggressive behavior of dogs is one of our biggest fears of life on the road—if you have tips or tricks for dealing with them, we’d love to hear them in the comments below!
Fueling up with food: Resupply in Tolhuin
Eventually, gravel turns into concrete and we grind our way up the pass, riding along the shoulder of the Pan-American Highway. It’s really raining now and the Patagonian winds threaten to blow us off our bikes. Soaked and shivering, we seek refuge in a small local restaurant. To our surprise, the place is filled with live music and they serve best empanadas on earth - lucky us! Strengthened once more by hot food and green tea, we press on towards Tolhuin, where we end up staying the night in a tipi, sheltered from the howling winds.
Tolhuin is mostly known for its legendary bakery, Panaderia La Union, and their incredible baked goodies and sweets. The owner offers touring cyclists a place to sleep in the basement-for free! It’s a simple kindness, but one that means the world to those of us on the road. :)
Left: Ryan, resting in the hand of a giant. / Right: The wooden welcome sign of Tolhuin.
Thousand hues of yellow on the Pampa
The section beyond Tolhuin takes us inland, through vast grasslands painted in endless shades of yellow and brown. The native plants, as tough as their windswept environment, make it hard to sit or lie down without some buffer or protection.
Out here, we feel worlds away from the Pan-American Highway - and civilization itself. Over the coming days, we’ll encounter native birds species, wild horses and guanaco families, but we’ll rarely see another soul. Most buildings we pass are empty and abandoned, like the haunting hotel at Lago Yehuin. It must have been quite the sight in its glory days, decades ago.
The only constant sign of human presence are the never-ending fencelines, where death is omnipresent… Life on the pampas can be ruthless, both for humans and animals. We get used to the company of guanacos: Shy and quirky-looking members of the camel family with gangly legs and curious minds. They kind of look like they were drawn by a child, a strange mix of llama, horse and camel.
Ears up, tail down: Guanacos rule the world in Tierra del Fuego.
Worries about Finding Good Water
Finding potable water is an issue that has us worried, since the airline lost our brand-new water filter *sobs*. Natural waterr sources are scarse on Tierra Del Fuego, and the few we do encounter are likely contaminated. That’s why we’re especially grateful for the occasional estancias we come across. Every day or two, we stop by and ask a farming family to fill our water bottles, and they kindly do so. We try to carry each more than 6 liter with us at all times. That usually lasts us for about 2 days.
We’re making good progress… until we’re not! With gusts of 85 km or 53 miles/hr, we barely manage to stay steady on our bicycles. Our daily distance drops to a mere 40 kilometers or 25 miles. On the barren plains and grasslands of Tierra Del Fuego, there is no place to escape these winds.
At night, we take refuge wherever we can— animal shelters, tree coverage, bridges, anything that offers some form of protection. When the winds get too strong, there’s not much else to do but hunker down in our brand-new tent and hope for the weather to calm down.
Waiting out the worst of the wind.
Seeking refuge in shelters and abandoned places.
Love Knows no Boundaries
Along the route, we encounter some trail angels— that’s what we call people who help travelers, hikers and bikers in any way. One of them is Nestor, a retired navy officer, who drives us to the Argentinian border post with Chile. We’re forever grateful for him, helping us escape the worst of the storm!
Yippee — we made it to Chile!
The customs officers are equally kind, welcoming us and even offering the use of their shower! After cleaning up and getting our passports stamped, we ride into Chile — country number two!!
We stay our first night in Chile in Pampa Guanaco (wonder where they got the name from…) in one of the free wooden shelters in town. Staying up late, we lose ourselves in books and maps, savoring the day. It’s our first night sleeping on Chilean soil, and it feels special — like the start of a new chapter.
The next morning greets us, however, with another grueling day of headwinds - and I mean, serious headwinds - but as we near the final stretch of the Fin Del Mundo route, the winds shift in our favor. Blessed with a strong tailwind, we’re blown straight into Cameron, a picturesque seaside community with a campground and general store.
Riding down from the road, the quaint village of Cameron appears.
The last 150 kilometers of the route brings us closer to society: we see more people in this stretch than we’ve seen the entire trip so far!
Meeting people along the way is part of the magic.
That’s how we meet our van-life friends, Ivo On Tour, a fun and energetic German couple traveling in a converted firefighter truck.
And on the final night of the route, we camp at another abandoned shelter and share the space with three fellow bikepackers — one from France, another from Belgium/Canada and the third from the UK.
Exchanging stories with other travelers, we get a glimpse of what lies ahead: the towering peaks of Torres Del Paine and the beauty of the Carratera Austral and Bariloche. Listening to their tales, we dream of the surprises that Argentina and Chile still have in store for us…
Bikepackers unite at shelters, seeking some refuge from the wind.
Our final day is the longest one yet. The thought of a comfy bed and warm shower keeps us going as we push towards Porvenir. In 7 hours and 100 kilometers, we make our way over a mix of concrete and gravel roads, helped along by tailwinds.
From Porvenir, we catch the daily ferry to mainland Chile. We pay $9.000 Chilean pesos per person for the ferry trip - bicycles travel for free - and we arrive safe and sound in Punta Arenas.
The first leg of our Pat’Alaska journey is officially over! We look back on these early weeks with happy hearts and hungry stomachs :)
As we rest and refuel, we’re busy wrapping up a Youtube video about the route and mapping out the next stage: a mostly off-road route to and through Torres Del Paine, eventually connecting to the famous Carretera Austral… To be continued!
Thanks for reading and following along! You can support our journey by becoming a Patreon member and get access to live updates, stories and early video-releases — and maybe even a postcard from our next destination :) Cheers!