Crossing borders by boat, singletrack, and grueling hike a bike

 15 March

After waiting 2 days for the next boat to leave Villa O'Higgins, all the hikers and bikers were anxious to get moving; what better time to head off into the unknown than 6pm.

 A wild hour and a half later, we were all dumped on the opposite shore to spend the night until passport control opened the next morning to allow us to leave Chile. Even though I wanted to get moving, the sunrise over the lake was well worth the camp out. 

A dirt road turned into 5km of super fun single track down to the lake to get my stamp into Argentina. I had the option to wait 5 hours for another boat or attempt the infamously difficult 12 km trail. No debate needed, I took the trail. 

5 hours and 2 very tired arms later, I popped out on the other side of the lake to be greeted with 40 kms of dirt road in the pouring rain. Knowing a warm shower was somewhere at the end, I pedaled on. 

El Chaltén is a funny little mountain town, with some of the most famous climbing peaks in Argentina mere steps away from town. I really wanted to see Cerre Torre and Mt Fitz Roy (the mountain skyline is the Patagonia company's label) but the weather forecast was dismal. I spent 2 days washing out my smelly clothes, drinking coffee, and sampling all the dolce de leches pastries I could find. Finally, after so much rain (0.86 inches!) I had my window. A hostel room full of stinky feet and farting boys was all the motivation I needed to get out the door at 4 am to hopefully catch the sunrise at Cerro Torre. 

I hiked too fast and had to huddle against the wind and snow until the sun came up, another hour in, and still no break in the grey. Finally, unable to keep warm, I headed back down the trail and across to Fitz Roy hoping the clouds might not be caught up on those peaks since they were just slightly farther east. 

What amazing trails, no wonder El Chaltén calls itself the trekking capital of the nation. Everywhere you look, glaciers, lakes, alpine meadows, and birds. I could have spent another week exploring the area.

With the faint outlines of the famous peak barely visible, I counted it as a success. Down the trail I descended into warmer, drier weather and my feet took me directly towards beer and empanadas.

Now I go to Calafate, this time by bus to help me make up a few miles. It should be drier and warmer there, but there are no guarantees with the weather in Patagonia.