DAYS 132-148 SOUTHERN CHILE
C H I L E B O R D E R C R O S S I N G
We haven’t planned much of this trip. We might have a broad idea of things we want to see or places we want to visit, but a lot of the time we’re flying by the seat of our pants, figuring things out a week or a even a day in advance. And it’s cool because it gives us freedom. The freedom to change our minds, to redirect our course on a whim. If we like a place - we stay, if we don’t - we get our butts on the next bus. We’re not in a rush to have it all figured out. We’ve let a lot of it surprise us along the way. And I for the most part, l really like surprises.
But sometimes the lack of planning can leave you in a pickle. Like when you arrive in a teeny tiny Argentinean border town (that is actually 7 miles from the border) at 4am. And there are no taxis. And you’ve got 100 pounds of camping and climbing gear stuffed into an extremely awkward-to-carry duffle and a couple of giant backpacks that might as well be filled with cement bricks.
And when that happens you really have no choice but to pick up your shit and walk. So we did. We walked and walked and walked along the desolate stretch of highway. And we watched the sun rise over a beautiful empty desert and gorgeous purple mountains, all the while complaining about our breaking backs and cursing every car that passed (and by every, I mean two or three) for totally ignoring our desperate, outstretched thumbs.
But, alas…three and a half hours later…we shuffled our weary little feet across the border and into Southern Chile. And my god there is so much to love about this place.
I love that the empanadas, which I didn’t think could get any better, did. I love that all the women grab you and kiss you on the cheek when they say hello, even if they have no idea who you are. I loved that we were constantly passing by lakes so filled with pigment, they prompted Brad to turn to me and say “Do you think we’ve seen every shade of blue there is?”
We’ve slowly made our way north little by little. Chile Chico to Puerto Rio Tranquilo to Cerro Castillo to Coyhaique to Puerto Aysen. Mostly in bouncy busses that stir up the roads and suck up the dust and spit it all over their passengers. So that when you arrive to wherever it is you’re going, you’re always covered in a thin, familiar layer of dirt.
We’ve stayed in a lot of really cool little towns. The kind that giant mountains wrap themselves around and chain grocery stores haven’t yet ruined. With populations like 300. Where you can forget luxuries like ATM’s or wifi and are forced to put your terrible Spanish into practice with men wearing crooked berets, fluffy mustaches and big leather belts wrapped around their Levis.
We’ve spent some time laying low and some time exploring. We floated through fantastically beautiful marble caves. We wandered into the woods for days at a time without enough food. We hitchhiked back to town and shoved giant hamburguesas covered in avocado (I also love that Chileans put avocado on everything) into our starving mouths.
We met up with friends. Drank lots of beers. Tried bike-packing for the first time through the insanely gorgeous and hellishly ginourmous hills…and despite the almost unbearable buildup of lactic acid in our quads, we had a blast.
Right now we’re sitting in the great room of a ferry that will take us through the the night, up through costal fjords and out of this beautiful region. I cannot wait to sit on the deck and say my goodbyes to the Patagonian stars for they are biggest and brightest and hang-down-in-your-face-iest I have ever seen. And I’m hoping I just might be able to burn their image into my memory.
Until next time.
-Kenze
