Cochrane to Trevelin

I left the last blog on a bit of a cliffhanger, to anyone who cares.   Had I mastered the struggle up hills and down dales?  Had I become at one with the gravel and the stones??  Had the struggle between my inbuilt laziness and my drive to achieve the task i had set for myself come to a head???

Well, the arc which I had so artfully set up has been broken by the ridiculous amount of time I have spent bothering to write the next chapter.

After leaving Cochrane, with my five days worth of food, I headed through hard hills, up and down, sleeping between a twenty year-old container hold whilst I did it.

There were some hard yards to go, but I was happy doing it, I had come to a arrangement with myself, and the beauty of the journey was its own reward.  I don't have an awful amount of pictures to back up this claim, but after a few tens of kilometers, after some seriously hard yards over up and downs by the Lago Cochrane, I arrived by Puerto Tranquilo, stayed for the one coffee that my remaining 500 Chilenos would alow, and then kicked on.

After a night kicking on a nearby beach, I headed up into the hills.  I cycled around the ripio, the bamboo shoots and ferns sticking into the roads, having to hack though and duck under the thick shoots to get to the wide river for water, and then hitting a hard uphill, cycling and pushing as the conditions merited, and camping at the top of the pass.  The next day was one of my most enjoyable experiences, downhill for 40 or 50 km, with a drownded forest to one side, the mountains to the other.  After an unremarkable stretch to Villa Cerro Castillo (possibly, I'm going on memory here), with an attempted dog following (and I'm not letting that happen again, you, guilt-endengering fucks!), I hit an Alpine switchback, and made it up to the highest part on the Carretera.  1150m.  Hardly anything in South America, but it held magical forests and deeply shadowed glades, so I stopped there for the night.

Anyway, I swore to myself this would be quick and painless, so, basically I got to Cohaique, chilled there for three days, headed on, uneventfully for two days, then hit a mirador (ie look out, or on the Carretera, a little rain sheltered hut), and slept there for the nght.  After that, the rain came down strong.  I went on cycling, through the Cat's Leg pass, and then, after seeing some cyclists I had met in Villa O'Higgins, and whom were looking for a lift (Yeeees!  Strike one for me!) and a girl who was looking desperately for a lift (shout out to Lail!), I hit a serious hillside. 

Hillside,



The way up was steep, a ripio winding its way amongst the hills, and waterfalls crashing down everywhere. Everywhere!  The landscape was alive with water, a hundred of meters of water crashing down and echoing amongst the hills.  I cycled on, each side of the road cascadin, in g with water at times, washing over the road, roaring constantly, the next bridge announced by its scrape of water on the accompanying trees, the entire landscape sculpted by the onrushing water.  Eventually I got to a section which appeared to be an entire plane of water, so, naturally assuming the water would be no more than calf deep, I headed on through.  After a while, it became obvious that my panniers were going to be subsumed by the water, I hoicked my bike on my shoulder and waded on through.  The foliage each side was verdant; bamboo, ferns and magjestic trees, the water was running over me, and rampaging each side of the road.  I don't have many picture of said conditions, my camera being immersed in a fleece and plastic bag cocoon, but what I have I will post.

Anyhow, I can't really be arsed blathering on - I got to Puyuhaupi in the dusk, was sick for two days, then headed on for Futuleufu, staying there for three days, and now I'm back in Argentina, in
Trevalin, one of the Welsh towns of Patagonia, in what my my guide book very accurately describes as the best hostel in Argentina.  Seriously, you would expect to pay a kings ransom to stay here, but instead it's about 10 squid. 

 Puyuhuapi,

Me with tent,

So tomorrow, to make up lost time, I intend to head to El Bolson, 180km up the road, and that's that.  Kisses to all you dudes and dudesses. X