Hard work (?)
6 hours of hiking with 1,700 m of gain followed by 6 hours of gravel riding with another 1,200 m really did a number on my body. I honestly felt like I was back on those first days in Colombia—thighs, quads, calves all sore. Not painful, just… cooked. I guess I’m just human after all.
Gravel always makes me more tense. Emotionally I’m glued to the ground in front of me, trying not to slice my tire open on a rock, so there’s less time to actually enjoy the scenery. On this day I mainly just wanted to arrive. The goal was simple: reach the old pier at the abandoned ferry station and camp there.
After dinner, a Mexican guy rolled in—he’s been cycling for seven years, all around South America. No rush, no timeline, just riding. He even has this extra little cart tied behind his bike to carry all his stuff. He weighs about 60 kg and the bike setup is 80 kg. That’s hilarious.
We talked for an hour in Spanish, and honestly, I got another compliment on my Spanish. Slowly I’m starting to believe that if I just keep going, maybe one day I could actually be fluent. I would love that. And I guess that means continuing the Spanish journey after this trip too.
Caleta Tortel
Alrighty — approaching the famous Caleta Tortel. Apparently it wasn’t even accessible by road until the early 2000s; before that, it was all boats. The whole place is connected by wooden boardwalks—literally a few kilometres of them—and it always rains here. Luckily only light rain for the boys today.
We went for a walk and instead of turning back, decided to make a loop by climbing 200 m up the hill and coming back into town from the other side. Classic bad decision—muddy, wet, and basically zero views because everything was inside the clouds. Still… kind of interesting in a weird way.
Cycling here was actually easy: under 3 hours, almost completely flat, less than 300 m of vert. Honestly the recovery day I needed. The walk made it feel like a real full day anyway.
We were eating sopaipillas con palta y queso (basically the cheapest filling option in Tortel) and checking out the extremely random food options here. Interesting menu choices, let’s say.
Camping in the rain tonight but luckily the trees are protecting us, and I’m just happy we didn’t have to cook fully exposed in the downpour.
Break the day & stay getting dry
Woke up at 6:30am – the feet-side of the tent was literally in a puddle, but my Garmin congratulated me with a sleep score of 100. That has never happened since I bought the watch in May 2024. I don’t believe it at all – I’ve had much better nights of sleep – but no time to think about that. There’s a ferry at 10:00, and we’re 30 km away with 700 m of elevation.
First 10 km were easy until the intersection. Then started the actual climb: 15 km, 600m, steep, bike-push territory mixed with short stretches of cycling.
Why the rush, you ask? Three different weather apps all promised a massive downpour starting around noon. So the plan was at least to cycle the morning part dry’ish and then find shelter.
We reached the ferry with about 5 minutes to spare. If we missed it, we could’ve waited inside the small waiting building—but it was taken over by what seemed to be a homeless person. First time I’ve seen a homeless person in South America, and out of all places, Puerto Yungay, Patagonia – literally in the middle of nowhere. This guy raised about a hundred questions. Google that place.
Rain picked up hard, so on the boat I was borderline shivering. Luckily on the other side the rain slowed down again. I’m really glad we made that ferry; if the downpour had continued we probably would’ve ended up sleeping right there at the dock on the far side.
Next plan: maybe camp at Maria’s in 12 km – supposedly indoor accommodation.
We made it – rain wasn’t that bad. Bought some bread from the family, then continued to Refugio para Ciclistas. Apparently this region is known for crazy rain so there’s more “infrastructure” for cyclists. Refugio means you have a roof over your head and a bench to sit on.
Light rain, but the refugio was still kind of wet inside. Weather wasn’t horrible – more like showers – so we continued 10 more km to the real shelter with a wood stove. The promise of fire is powerful.
We ended up cycling 78 km with 1600 m gain in 5h15. The final refugio was such a gift – wood fire, we dried our tents and sleeping bags from the previous night.
From the outside it sounds like fun and giggles, but these Chilean climbs really mess with my head. Too steep for me to pedal properly – my cassette is too small and my lowest gear still isn’t low enough. Same story as before, but now we’re closer to the end, so… baby steps.
We made it, everything’s dry, and as always – the road provides.
Villa O’higgins
Alrighty, only 3 rainy hours to the end of Carretera Austral—easy peasy I said in the morning, but the sun actually came out and the kilometers were easier than expected.
Just chilled in Villa O’Higgins, feeling surreal to be entering back into Argentina in a few days.
Back to Argentina
So I’m ready to tell you our big plan for getting back to Argentina and reaching El Chaltén. Since we’re in Villa O’Higgins, the first step is taking a passenger-only ferry across Lago O’Higgins. It runs only twice a week, and calling it a “ferry” is generous — it’s basically a small boat. Bikes are allowed, luckily.
After that crossing, we have 20 km of steep, gravel-mud-dirt “road,” where you’re basically pushing your bike for 4–5 hours. So: 2 hours on the ferry, then 4–5 hours of bike-pushing misery. Eventually you arrive at Lago Desierto.
At Lago Desierto, you can take another ferry to the other side, but it’s expensive — $35 per person plus $15 per bike, so $50 each. Instead, we decided that one person stays behind with the four bikes while the remaining three hike around the lake. The hike is about 12 km and should take around 3 hours.
Once reunited on the other side, we still have to cycle the final 36 km to El Chaltén. And that was the original plan.
Did it work?
Plan sounds exciting, doesn’t it? Well… it actually has a bottleneck. Lago O’Higgins can get really windy — and when I say windy, I mean 50 knots, so around 80–90 km/h. And that’s exactly what’s happening to us for the next few days. The forecast shows constant wind between 70 and 90 km/h.
So we’re basically stuck in Villa O’Higgins until the wind calms down, which will probably take about 4 days. For now, we’re just chilling, eating, and waiting for the best to happen. What else can we do?
It’s funny — you can plan everything in Patagonia, but in the end, the weather decides who’s in charge.
Mind games
Oh yeah, it’s now confirmed — we’re waiting extra 4 days, and hopefully we’ll leave on the boat once the wind finally dies down. Until then… time. Too much of it.
And that brings up the real question: what do you do when you suddenly have all the time in the world? This place has one restaurant, a supermarket, and that’s basically it. Nothing more, nothing less.
The funny part is that because we bought the tickets with Phil’s American credit card — Capital One, baby — we (well, it is actually Phil only but he is generous and treating others too) technically have money to spend now that the trip is delayed. In theory, we could buy everything this town has to offer. In reality, this town has almost nothing. We’ve now started calling Phil Sugar Daddy, but since we’re in Chile, it had to be in Spanish — so he’s officially Papá Azúcar. No idea if that’s even the correct translation, but it’s funny enough. As long as we keep each purchase under $50, it’s all good and fully reimbursed.
So here I am, asking myself: what would I do if I truly had all the time in the world? Because that’s exactly what I have right now. I am already bored and there are two full days of doing absolutely nothing. It rains every 30 minutes, so leaving town doesn’t really make sense either.
To some extent, we now have all the money we could reasonably spend here — but we’d still much rather be on the Argentinian side, in El Chaltén. So does money bring happiness? I don’t know. Not in these four or five days, at least.
I guess it’s a good moment to slow down and reflect — even though I kind of hated being there for so long.
The reality for 6 days
So what do our days look like here? Pretty basic.
First of all, we were lucky enough to pitch our tent under a roof — a big win with temperatures close to zero, plus rain and wind.
The daily routine includes chopping wood. We take turns, and it keeps us warm while we’re in the hut.
The hut itself has no insulation at all, so we’re using a lot of wood just to stay afloat. We spent many, many, many hours in that hut. It has a small kitchen, so we can cook, sit around, hang out.
And one thing became very clear to me: I’m not ready for a 200–400 people small-town lifestyle. It feels like people here just exist — they don’t really live.
There is a Wi-Fi spot close to the hut. Even though it’s technically covered, you still can vet wet — rain gets in, the air is damp, and if the weather is bad for too long, it’s hard to stay there. And while we were here, it was raining most of the time.
6am to 9:30pm
So finally, the day has come. We’re leaving Villa O’Higgins.
The morning started with about half an hour of cycling, followed by a 2 hour bumby boat ride.
After that, we had to rush to make sure we caught the ferry. Rushing meant cycling when possible and pushing the bike when it wasn’t. The first 14 kilometers were fine. The last five, though, were literally a hiking trail that had been rained on for the past four days. Mud up to the ankles. Constantly stuck.
At first, I thought it was funny. But honestly — no. I take that back. It wasn’t funny. It was type 3 fun. Not fun during, not fun looking back, and definitely not something I want to repeat.
However, that day we got the best views of Mount Fitz Roy in the background, so I managed to take some shots. I was extremely happy just getting closer and closer to it.
After that came another ferry. To save some money, I gave my bike to Phil and hiked around instead. I was already completely exhausted, but even after that, there were still 2.5 hours of cycling left to reach town. So I did that too. Combination of physical and mental exhaustion didn’t allow me to fall asleep either, great.
All in all, my day ran from 6:00 a.m. until 9:30 p.m.
Cycling stats (5 days cycling, 5 days stuck in O’higgins)
331.8 km | 21 h 21 m | 4,674 m gain
Daily Averages
66.4 km | 4h 16 min | 935 m gain