21.3 mi / 6.9 mph / 2807 ft. climbing
Home: Picnic Area Wild Camp

Yesterday’s near-90°F high had dropped to 58°F by morning, but the day was forecast to broadly be at least as hot. By the time we got on the road it was already warming quickly, but hopefully our ascent to the spine of the Andes, even if 11,000 feet lower than the passes in Peru, would still have a moderating effect.

The road out of Curarrehue continued to be as quiet as it had been on yesterday’s entry, and we even had a good shoulder to start. That went away once we crossed the border of the National Park (there was a guard standing in the road, but no entry free), and while a 900-foot climb up a 10% grade is usually not the place you want to see your shoulder disappear, traffic remained minimal so it was no problem. It was really hot though, so we did a lot of stopping, and walked up some of the sections that easily-exceeded the 10% average. Thankfully the existence of this unusual thing called “forest” meant that shade was easy to find.

Partway up that brutal, switchbacking climb, we took lunch down in a forested hollow off the road, after I determined that the flies who would begin harassing us when we stopped in the sun of the road had no interest in following us into the shade. But even after we reached the “top” and began the “flat” final five miles to our destination, plenty of steep (but shorter) climbs remained. That caused a lot of anguish for Rett, which in turn causes a lot of anguish for me. She was angrily rejecting my offers to help (by walking or riding her bike up the steep back-aching sections where she had to push), and for once I relented, respecting her commitment and understandable desire to do the climb all on her own (which was easier for me to do because we weren’t pressed for time).

We reached our destination, a picnic area within a few miles of the Argentina border, a little after 1pm. Usually developed areas like this in a National Park (or anywhere) are strictly no-camping, but iOverlander had plenty of reports of people spending the night without any issues. While the “development” didn’t include a piped water supply or toilets, it had a parking area, picnic tables, a too-huge-to-be-useable concrete firepit, and plenty of flat, cleared grassy areas, which is a set of amenities beyond most wild camps. And a fast-flowing icy river backed the picnic area, with a couple of accessible spots on the bank within 50 yards of walking. So that’s where we immediately headed to wash up and cool down a bit.

And then we settled in to wait out the afternoon heat, setting up our chairs in the shade of one of the many monkey puzzle trees, and battling the mildy-annoying flies. Thankfully the 3800-foot elevation helped, and it topped out at 82°F in the shade, which made it possible to wear protective clothing. There were about 10 people in 3 or 4 parties using the site when we arrived, and every time a group or two would leave, they’d be replaced by newcomers. It was after 7pm when the last day-users departed, leaving us and two pairs of gringos in campervans over in the parking lot spending the night. They were obviously visible to anyone driving by on the road, so it surely would have been fine for us to just pitch our tent in the middle of the field, but I still put it behind a circle of brush.

When we stay at an AirBNB (like we’ve been doing for 90% of our time in Chile), there are always plenty of things to distract us when we reach our destination. So the advantage of getting to a campsite really early, with no Internet available, was that we could actually spend time relaxing in the outdoors, in this rather spectacular location! In addition to the giant volcano, the majority of the trees in the area were the strange “monkey puzzle trees”, or araucarias, and I enjoyed strolling around and photographing them.

I’m proud that without Internet, I correctly guessed that they’re related to New Zealand’s iconic kauri trees, even though they don’t look obviously similar. But both have a “prehistoric” feel, and looking closer, they both have stiff arrowhead-shaped leaves (though monkey puzzles’ are juicier), and in young versions, the leaves grow directly out of the trunk. And the monkey puzzles, like the kauris, evolve into wildly different shapes as they age. The monkey puzzles start spindly and covered everywhere in leaves, then become nicely “tree-shaped” in middle age, only to turn into wide mushroomheads on top of straight, thick-barked boles when they’re old enough to lord over the forest.

One of the best things about camping here is that the border station a few miles away closes at 8pm, so the already-light traffic dies to nothing. That made it especially beautiful to walk around near sunset. I was walking down the middle of the road, saw “7:56pm” on my phone and just as I told myself “I guess we’ve seen our last vehicle for the night”, a car came absolutely screaming up the road toward the border! He either didn’t make it in time, or was really just going to pick up one of the border workers, because 15 minutes later he came driving back down the mountain.