Issue link: https://bluemagazine.uberflip.com/i/25241
WHAT THE AUTHOR USED: GIANT YUKON (WWW.GIANT· BICYCLES.COM). THIS BIKE IS PERFECT FOR ROUGH ROAD RIDING. HAS FRONT SHOCKS AND 24 SPEEDS WHICH MEANS THAT YOU WONT HAVE TO GET OFF YOUR SEAT TO CLIMB THE ANDES. . . .' . . . WHAT THE AUTHOR USED: B.O.B. YAK (WWW.BOBTRAILERS.COM).USING A TRAILER IS A VERITABLE PARADIGM SHIFT IN HAULING CARGO BY BIKE. WATCH THE ENVY CREEP OVER THE FACES OF THE SADDLE· BAGGERS YOU MEET. THE TRAILER CLIPS ON AND OFF YOUR BIKE IN FIVE SECONDS AND ALLOWS YOU TO KEEP ALL OF YOUR GEAR TOGETHER IN ONE BAG THAT CAN BE CHECKED AS LUGGAGE ON A PLANE. Channel (named for the ship in which Darwin visited the area). Andres remembers the Beagle Channel dispute as a bizarre confluence of nationalism, sport and religion. "We had just won the World Cup," he gushes, "and we were going crazy with joy. But Chileans and Argentines were pointing guns at each other right over there," he says, motioning at the mountains. "We didn't know how to feel. The Pope finally sent a cardinal to talk some sense into us." The Beagle Channel dispute would fina lly be resolved through this papal diplomacy in 1985 to Chile's favor. I ask Andres if it might have turned out differently if the Argentines hadn't at least had their World Cup. "Might have been full-blown war!" he says smiling. As we take our leave of Andres to climb the Andes back into Chile, I ask him how the Argentines and Chileans get along today. "We have no problem with them," he says. "If anything, they have a problem with us!" "We're headed over the mountains today, and we'll ask the Chileans about you all too," I tell him. "Ok, just don't tell them what we said," he jokes. The scrappy road that winds into the Andes and over the Futaleufu Pass back into Chile has firm narrow ruts and loose gravel banks which have been ca rved by sparse auto traffic the way that small moguls grow up in the wake of skiers. On gravel roads, biking is no longer the relatively passive "ride" that pavement serves up. Gravel requires great precision-veering an inch off a firm track in the road immediately throws you into a grinding, off-balance slow- down in a mess of loose rock. It's a rougher sort of biking, complete with clouds of gagging dust with every passing car. Fortunately, very few cars bother with this passage into Chile. At Argentine customs, an old official bearing an uncanny resemblance to "M*A*S*H's" Colonel Potter is delighted to see us. He hasn't seen anybody pass through in a while. Li ke most everyone who has taken an interest in our gear, the old fellow falls for my gear trailer. "Hey I like your carito," he says, calling it, as has everyone else despite having never seen such a th in g, a "little car." Angling to end this small ta lk, I ask, "How is the road on the Chilean side?" "The same," he replies. "Actually, over there, it's worse." Back inside Chile, we pass through quaint Futaleufu, where children and chickens seem to be the sole residents. This town is the river launch point and an absolute mecca for whitewater rafters but it doesn't offer much to the two-wheel set. Making our way west again along the beautiful, swimming-pool-blue Futaleufu River, we approach the mighty Carretera Austral ("Southern Highway"). "Mighty" not because of its size-it is a rough, unpaved, narrow road - but because it is the only road in Chile, south of Puerto Montt. Formally, the "President Pinochet Southern Longitudinal Highway," this 1,000- kilometer road was created by the dictator in the 1970S as a means of encouraging Chileans to settle the sparse South. The effort had some success, though today only a tiny fraction of the population lives in the area. We ride 25 miles north on the Carretera toward Chaiten, only two days from Puerto Montt. It is possible to ride the Carretera all the way to Puerto Montt from here, although on ly via a ferry connection, and only in high summer. North of Chaiten, en route to Puerto Montt, the Carretera passes through the extremely controversial Pumalin National Park. The park is the only one of its kind in a nation full of national parks, for several reasons. First, it is owned not by the Ch ilean state at all, but by a private American citizen, mall-fashion tycoon, Douglas Tom pkins, founder of Esprit clothing. Secondly, it almost completely bisects Chile, dividing the nation into two parts, creating what feels like a breach of national security akin to the French taking back the Louisiana Territory. Tompkins upset many Chileans when it was revealed that he used intermediaries to buy up the land a piece at a time, so as to disguise the fact that an individual was to own such a sizable chunk of Chilean turf. After taking a ferry to Chiloe Island, we finally get a good chance to ta lk behind the backs of the Argentines. "The Argentines, we always say, are achiporro," says the tiny, round vendor of a bounty of sea critters. "It's a Chilean expression," she says, giggling, "which means, they always think they're superior." The seafood on th is block of street vendors in the city of Castro is destined for bowl of curanto, a melange of surf and turf which is enjoyable to anyone who doesn't mind having no idea what they're eatin g. Around Chiloe Island, Chile's Chilote population inhabits tiny fishing villages on small fingers of land jutting into the water. These fishing villages are frequently connected only by rough gravel roads which typically plunge into towns at grades so steep, only the strongest cars are able to climb out. EI Boliviano is right at home in Curaco de Velez, one such village. Riding his bike into the water, he tosses it back on the beach before plunging into the sea. Never mind the fishermen going about their daily routine. EI Boliviano manages to purchase a fish which he insists he'll be able to cook at camp that night, despite the fact that we have only a pot. "We'll use sticks," he says. But a more important detail gets in his way of going primitive. Our flights home depart the next day from Puerto Montt. The Bolivian gives the fish to a passer-by who doesn't actually seem to want it. Back at the curb in front of the Puerto Montt ai rp ort, we break our bikes down to repack them for flight , again with an audience of bemused onlookers. Just as with starting a journey from the airpo rt itself, there is something very satisfying about delivering oneself to an airport by bike. EI Boliviano, in classic overstatement, insists it is the only way he'll travel to airports here forward . • DECIDES A NIGHT WHAT THE AUTHOR USED: COLUMBIA FLEXI'UTE (WWW.COLUMBIA.COM).THIS JACKET IS BOTH WATERPROOF AND BREATHABLE. IT ALLOWS YOU TO RIDE THROUGH EVEN THE WORST SOUTH AMERICAN RAI N IN RELATIVE COMFORT. WHAT THE AUTHOR USED: COLUMBIA ALL' MOUNTAIN SWEATER(WWW.COLUMBIA.COM).THIS PIECE PROVIDES WARMTH FOR NIGHT AND HIGH'ALTITUDE . . • • • t • , WHAT THE AUTHOR USED: ARMY·NAVY SURPLUS, GREEN COMBAT SHORTS. BUT FOR THOSE WHO WANT A SLEEKER LOOK THERE IS A GREAT SELECTION OF BIKING SHORTS. CHECK OUT THE LATEST STYLES FROM LOUIS GARNEAU (WWW.LOUISGARNEAU.COM).REI (WWW.REI.COM) AND PERFORMANCE BICYCLE (WWW.PERFORMANCEBIKE.COM) FOR IDEAS. : . WHAT THE AUTHOR USED: COLEMAN EXPONENT CANYON SLEEPING BAG (WWW.COLEMAN.COM).IT STUFFS TO THE SIZE OF A LOAF OF BREAD, WEIGHS LESS THAN THREE POUNDS, AND IS PERFECT FOR FALL WEATHER. BELL'S GHISALLO (WWW.BELLSPORTS.COM) IS A VERY VENTILATED OPTION FOR ROAD PUERTO MONTI FRUTILLAR PUERTO OCTAY PUERTO FONCK INTERNATIONAL HIGHWAY INTO ARGENTINA VILLA LA ANGOSTURA SAN CARLOS DE BARILOCHE VILLA MASCARDI EL BOLS6N ESqUEL TREVELIN FUTALEUFU VILLA SANTA LUCIA CHAIT EN CHONCHI (ISLA CHILOt) CASTRO (ISLA CHILO~) CURACO DE VELEZ (ISLA CHILOt) PUERTO MONTI 33