First day leaving Chos Malal, I already knew it was going to be a boring one. We had around 4 hours of riding ahead and no services at the end of the day. So I kind of decided to lean into it — to actually sit with the boredom and see what it does to me. What do I do when I have all the time in the world and nowhere specific to be? I think I still need to learn how to be bored.
We ended up “camping” in an abandoned house where you can only get in through the window. The funny part? There was a Wi-Fi spot nearby, so the internet actually worked while we waited out the storm. At first the storm started, then stopped, and I felt like an idiot for stopping early… but then the clouds rolled back in and it all made sense again.
At some point the cops showed up. We thought we were in big trouble for breaking into an abandoned building — but in the end they just parked, used the Wi-Fi, and left. Guys just wanted to watch some instagram reels, can’t blame them.
Another random thing I noticed in Argentina: on the side of the road you constantly see these little red shrines for Gauchito Gil. He’s a kind of folk saint here — a gaucho/outlaw people believe protects them on the road. Drivers leave bottles, flags, or small offerings when they pass by, so some stretches of highway feel like a continuous line of red mini-altars.
The wind
The wind saga continues. We cycled to the town of Las Lajas — an easy 4-hour ride with just a bit of wind, nothing too bad. We decided to stay for the day since the forecast for the next destination looked brutal: –3°C at night, rain all day, and 60 km/h headwinds. No, thank you.
It actually felt great to just chill at a campsite for once. A couple of other cyclists showed up too, and we spent time hanging out and chatting. I’ve noticed that compared to hiking, cycling feels lonelier — when you hike, you naturally meet people and spend more time together. On a bike, everyone’s more spread out. So having those moments to connect makes it feel like the full experience — biking, camping, and real conversations. At some point I even ended up drinking wine out of a bowl because… why not.
Also, I got curious about the history of Las Malvinas (the Falkland Islands). You see Argentinian flags everywhere with the islands printed on them. Read up on it — quite the story.
Continuing on
After resting, we continued with another day on the bike. We started early because we knew the wind was going to pick up. We had 5.5 hours of cycling and 1,200 meters of gain ahead of us, so we were back in climbing territory. After the rest, it honestly felt like time was flying and cycling was suddenly easy again. I guess resting really is training.
That day I felt a bit in a flow state and really enjoyed it. I spent a good chunk of time daydreaming about my “ideal” bike setup for future trips — which probably just means more trips are coming. At the end of the day we arrived by a river, jumped in for a quick dip, and camped near these amazing “monkey puzzle” trees.
It’s funny — the day before we jumped in the river and it was close to 28°C. The next morning we woke up and everything we’d left outside was frozen, including our water filter. Hopefully, since it was inside the bag, it didn’t break, but we definitely need to be more careful with that going forward.
The day itself was interesting: a mix of gravel that felt like a construction site and some regular road. I felt really good on the bike, attacking the small climbs and just enjoying the riding again. We rolled into a town called Aluminé and honestly, there’s construction on both sides, but once Alumine gets its roads sorted, it will pop. It’s definitely going to be super popular. Invest in Alumine now, boys and girls — I’m telling you first.
At the end of the day, I even made a sign for Phil. He somehow didn’t see it, but in my opinion it was a pretty clear sign. What do you think?
Funny how even this far south in Argentina, the views remind me of Montana — rolling hills, open spaces. It’s like nature is the same all over the world, just copy-pasted into different places.
These past days I’ve really felt a big wave of love for cycling again. I loved the uphills, I loved the downhills, I just loved moving. I caught myself daydreaming about other future trips on the bike. Cycling is amazing. I love it.
You see, there’s been a lot of love for cycling lately.
We passed through San Martín, which is a super popular ski and summer tourist town — full of people from Buenos Aires and quite a few Americans too. Definitely not for our budget. So we camped about 6 km outside town at a campsite that’s technically “day use only”, but we still pitched the tent for the night.
Earlier, we’d swum in the lake in San Martín, and later I started feeling this insane itchiness all over my body. I tried to fall asleep for an hour and just couldn’t. In the end, I had to get up at 11 p.m., go down to the river, and wash off, hoping it would help. Thankfully, it did — but I still only fell asleep around midnight.
Ruta de Los Siete Lagos
We started the famous Ruta de los Siete Lagos, and I actually really enjoyed it. We began with a small climb in the morning, and then the traffic picked up — so many rental cars flying past, people literally coming from all over just to see the lakes. The lakes are beautiful, but honestly, a bit overhyped.
On the bike, though, it was pretty nice. You just stop every few kilometers without even checking the map, just following the signs to miradores and viewpoints. The weather turned on us again — rain, low clouds, barely any visibility — so half the time you couldn’t even see the lake. Classic “it’s about the destination, not the journey” tourism, which I’m very happy not to be doing.
In the end, when the sun finally came out, I caught myself thinking: when do we actually appreciate the sun? I really appreciated it this time. Just feeling that warmth on my face was all I needed in that moment. I’m glad that biking — and the previous hiking trips — taught me how to appreciate nature in these small, simple ways.
Chile
We finally entered Chile, which came with some solid climbing. Honestly, at just 1,300 meters of elevation I already felt so cold I had to pull a buff over my nose. I thought, alright, we’re entering the zone where I’m gonna be screwed. But in the end, it wasn’t that bad.
This section really reminded me of southern Colorado with all the dead trees. And the way we entered was pretty special — crossing from Argentina into Chile with national parks on both sides, just great views all around.
We eventually rolled into Entre Lagos and stopped at the supermarket. Great selection, way better prices than in Argentina, so I was extremely happy. We also tried the classic Chilean street food: the completo. It’s basically a hot dog with some tomato and palta (avocado). Honestly, it would be great… but the sausage sucks.
Around the lake
Starting the day, I thought it was gonna be a great one — we’d cycle past two volcanos. On paper it was supposed to be pretty flat; in reality, not so much. We still got a bit of elevation in on rolling terrain.
The day turned cloudy and then it just started raining… and kept raining for a few hours. It wasn’t a cold rain, but still — cycling in the rain for that long is never really fun. At some point, though, I caught myself thinking: honestly, this is nothing. I’m in Chile, on a bike trip I chose, loving the ride, loving the new country, excited about what’s ahead — and my “problem” is that I’m wet. Worst case? It keeps raining, the night is damp, my sleeping bag is a bit moist, I wake up, ride an extra hour or two, and then I’ll be in Puerto Montt, dry again. When you frame it like that, it’s really not that bad.
We tried to duck into a few restaurants around the lake — it’s a pretty popular loop — just to warm up and chill for a bit, and that helped break up the day. In the end, the sun actually came out. It didn’t magically dry everything, but it made the last part of the ride feel a lot nicer.
And somewhere in between the rain, the clouds, and the volcano views, I came up with the most ambitious cycling plan for my future yet — so I’m pretty happy about that.
We finished the day camping by Lago Llanquihue, the same lake we’d been circling around all day. The sun finally came out in the evening, and it was honestly pretty amazing.
Otras cosas
1. We actually ended up ranking what matters most when cycling in South America. First and foremost: wind. If it’s really windy, you just know it’s going to be a shit day. Then comes rain — if it’s pouring non-stop, you basically can’t do much, cycling included. Only after that do we look at the road surface: is it full-on gravel, smooth asphalt, or that bumpy washboard gravel (a.k.a. tarka in Lithuanian) that just shakes your soul. And only then, only then, do we care about the elevation.
2. Overall, in the last 10 days, I feel like the bike really became a part of my life. I love moving that way. I love cycling. I can sit on a bike for hours. Until now, it still felt a bit like “just a trip”. But at this point, it feels different — like the bicycle is going to be a bigger and bigger part of my life moving forward. And I’m very excited about that.
Stats (8 out of 9 days of cycling)
Total
794 km | 41 h 33 m | 8,205 m gain
Daily Averages
99 km | 5 h 12 m | 1,026 m gain
