Chile: The Most Astounding Mountains vs. the Boring Desert

TIERRA DEL FUEGO

Mike decided he wanted to go see the larger King Penguins that are about 3 feet tall on Tierra del Fuego.  To get there we crossed the Strait of Magellan via ferry, drove a gravel road across windswept grasses on one side, and the sea on the other, for 100 kilometers and finally found the reserve.  

On the way, we stopped for the night at the ONLY trees we saw.  Period.  Everywhere, they have been cut long ago for firewood; in fact giving the island the name by explorers of Tierra del Fuego “Land of Fires.”  While sailing past, they saw many, many small fires built by the natives to keep warm!

We had company at our campsite.  A little old man, probably a sheep herder. Apparently he lived in the tiny shed attached to the public toilet.  I first saw him a short distance away, just staring at the camper.  Then he was gone, then he appeared again, and then was gone.  

Later, he appeared again, just standing and watching.  I went over and tried to talk to him, but as he chattered away, I did not understand one single word!  He may have been speaking a local native tongue; then again, most Chilean language is simply unintelligible to us.  He was like a unnerving spirit around camp the way he appeared and disappeared so quickly and quietly!

At bedtime, we realized we had a very flat rear tire, something Mike fretted about all night.  At 7 AM, we awoke to ice on the windows, but thankfully no wind.  Mike began the task of locating the jack, struggling to raise the camper high enough, when he heard a vehicle.  (There are VERY few vehicles on this gravel road at 7:30 am). I ran out and flagged down an extremely helpful bus driver, who had to access his own tools to help the remove the spare because of stripped bolts holding it on. 

I walked out and apologized to the two very nice ladies who were the only passengers on the bus.  They were Chilean and asked how long we had been in the country, where we had been, where we were going, where we were from. . . . My Spanish is definitely rusty, but we managed and it was a fun visit.

After an hour, we were on the road again, and made it to the penquin colony.  These King penguins, like the Emperor penguins, and unlike the miniature penquins who nest in the ground, hatch their eggs on their feet.  The King penguins take turns incubating the egg and searching for food.  With Emperor penguins, the male does all of the incubating.  These penquins are just now returning to these grounds to mate and raise chicks. 

The chicks grow VERY fast reaching the height of the adults in only about 6 months.  However they are SO easy to spot!  We were watching a group of about five move down the beach.  The very last one was a fat, furry brown waddling ball of fur.  Reminded me of a hairy brown bear cub, or a little Sasquatch or Yeti waddling across the rocks!

This adolescent penquin was quite clumsy and kept falling down while waddling, and Mom kept turning around fussing at him — she seemed to be saying, Get up! Keep up with us! Why are you so clumsy!  Quite amusing to watch.

We had to circle around and returned to our campground near Punta Arenas, because the one “gomeria” (tire fixer), on Tierra del Fuego was coming back at 3, then it was 6, and we figured it might actually be the next day before he returned.  So, we left and came back to the city to get the tire repaired before heading north, extra mileage of about 50 miles.

TIRE REPAIR IN PUNTA ARENAS

As I mentioned, it took seven stops to get it repaired.  The first place told us where to go, the second sold tires but did not repair. The third also sold tires, but did not repair them, but sent us to a gas station that was close to a place that did. Yes, the gas station said, right next door and pointed next door.   No, said the place next door. It’s on the other side of the gas station across the street!  Geeze!

We are both getting frustrated trying to come up with the necessities of living. We need water but we can’t find garafones (never saw ANY) and we weren’t even sure the grocery stores had water to sell (they did) because they don’t open until 10 o’clock. And, I already mentioned trying to get propane. 

We tried to stay at a campground that had a spot to park a camper so we could get hot showers. But it did not open until the next day, and the next place we tried never answered the door.  Showers will have to wait — again.

TORRES DEL PAINE

Arghhhhhh! Our Chile map is incorrect; our Torres Map doesn’t extend far enough to explain which road to GET to the park.  Road signs are inadequate, our GPS is hopeless.  Of course, we have no WIFI to use “Maps”.  After a very heated discussion between us, I finally resorted to stopping first a bus driver, and then a woman to ask directions.  Both gave me the same answer.  Mike was still disagreeing and he asked the driver and guides of a tourist van.  Same answer, so away we finally went. It turns out, we had missed the “south way” into the park, but entered a more northerly entrance.

As we drove in, the Torres (towers) stood like beacons in front of us.  These are the famous ones of the photos.  We continued on, paid our entrance fee of $12,000 pesos (about $18 each) and continued slowly down this gravel road.  We came closer and closer to the base of the mountains.  

Never have we seen such spectacular, jagged mountains up this close, with no moraine, and only a couple of low hills and a lake between us. From this lake, these peaks shot straight up 9,000 feet into the most awe-inspiring, surreal views you can imagine.  Jagged peaks, snow and glaciers, stormy peaks disappearing in and out of the clouds with snowstorms — they had them all!

We continued on past, making our way to a campground (with hot showers!!) for the night.  The next morning, after a night of rain on us, and snow on the mountains, we retraced our path in the intermittent sunshine.  They were even more spectacular.  How can I ever edit my photos down to a reasonable number!  These mountains did not disappoint.

Torres del Paine

WESTERN ARGENTINA ! THE LONG, LONESOME ROAD

Well. . . . . . I’m trying to think of something positive to say. . . . . Oh, where the highways are good, they are very, very good; smooth, gentle curves, no concrete seams. . . . . . And, . . . the town of El Calafate is a quite fancy, cute, little tourist town. . . . . And, . . . well, that’s about it for the positives!  

Shortly after crossing into Argentina, we stopped for gas.  As I walked around the back of the camper to change drivers, I gasped; our spare tire was GONE!  After we had gotten the tire repaired, and the spare mounted on the back, the two bolts holding it on had been stripped.  The repairman had one new one and put it in, but just one.  So, eventually it jiggled loose, and the spare was gone.

One hour up the road from there, we stopped at a highway department yard for the night. . . . and it was then we discovered the tire on the camper was going flat again.  Too dark to put on the second spare from underneath tonight.

The next morning the wind is blowing wildly, but Mike crawled underneath and removed and jacked and changed tires.  But the spare was low!  A man lived up at the office of the highway yard — and he had an air compressor.  What good luck!

We made our way about 60 no-problem miles to Calafate to get a new tire or at least a new tube.  A great young man at a campground helped Mike call the camper dealer, but they would not spring for a new tire.  So our helper told us where to go to get it fixed.  New tube, and a cut in tire, but no problem fixing.  He actually got a new tube, cut the center out of the old one and created a “jacket” for the new tube for extra protection! 

Only problem?  The repairman wouldn’t accept Chilean or US dollars, only Argentine.  Mike spent 45 minutes going from place to place, looking for ATMs that worked; or a bank or money exchange.  Finally a restaurant changed money for him!

The next morning we hit the road north.  One has to go into Argentina, to go farther north and then get back into Chile, as there is the huge Patagonian icefield in the way, and no other roads!  We started for Mt. Fitz Roy, reputed to be a beautiful, massive mountain.  It would take a 120-mile extra round trip to go there and back, then head north again.  Twelve miles into this side trip, we could see storm clouds touching down to the lake below the range and determined we probably could not see anything of these mountains and turned around.

We drove 7½ hours today and saw nothing except western Argentine desert— the grasslands of the Patagonian Pampa.  No towns, no houses, no scenery, nothing except boring desert that looked much like Nevada’s Highway 50’s “lonesome road”, or northern New Mexico’s “mal pais” (bad country).  Even the sheep and guanacos were few and far between. No rabbits, few birds.  A very few large rhea (look like ostriches) stood out a couple of times.  

Numerous guanacos along and on the road.

We spotted a few rheas.

Marvelous old wagon

Cute dog with "doggles".

The only good scenic in three days.

More guanacos

Then the wonderful highway quit and we had 35 miles of 25mph horrible, washboard gravel roads before we had pavement again.

And the wind.  Never have I seen such strong winds. I needed a hiking pole to keep from getting blown off-balance. We finally made it to a small town, Gobernador Gregores and looked for a wind-protected place to park for the night.  The one campground wasn’t “open“ and wouldn’t let us just park there, even for money.  

Other boondocking sites were too exposed, when one has a porta-potty sitting outside!  We finally settled on the gas station where we sat in the  camper with the wind howling and the camper rocking and rolling.  My God!  How do people live here!   We have a little less than one day before we cross back into Chile.  Maybe less wind — and somewhat warmer?  Maybe. . . ? 

Noon the following day, we were in Perito Moreno after 5 ½ hours of driving.  We left early in hopes of beating at least some of the wind.  No such luck.  Driving while being buffeted by the wind from every direction as we went around curves, dodging the baches (potholes) and small groups of guanacos on the highway presented a driving challenge.  

Reminded me of a computer game I once played:  racing a car dodging potholes, tumbleweeds and other cars!  And speaking of guanacos. . . We saw hundreds.  On Tierra del Fuego they are called GWAN’-ah-coze, but in Patagonia and the rest of Chile —gwa-KNOCK’-os.  Go figure.

SOUTHERN PATAGONIA IN RETROSPECT

An observation:  this is a place for young, fit, and tough people.  Hostels and cabanas abound.  Buses are very useful.  Hitchhiking is acceptable.  And the mountains would be beautiful to hike in — if one was well prepared for these conditions. Mike said, “If we were just 30 years younger and had lots of time, what a great adventure we could have traveling and hiking down here!”

After traveling the last two weeks, here is what we would recommend to anyone else thinking of doing this trip:  DON’T cross the western Argentina Pampa desert!

Fly to Punta Arenas and use a taxi to get around to the Nao Victoria and the Magellan Island ferry to see the small penquins.  Then take the ferry to Provinir, and grab the bus or a tour to the larger penquins.  Return the same way.

Ride a bus to Puerto Natales, rent a car (not a tour) and enjoy those awesome mountains.  Fly out from there, or return to Punta Arenas and fly north to Puerto Mott.  Use the internet, which can be found in most restaurants and gas stations, to make reservations in little cabanas which are everywhere.  All this would save you three days of pain and boredom.  We’ll see what else we have to recommend after the remainder of this trip!