28.1 mi / 10.8 mph / 1941 ft. climbing
Home: Cabañas Claudia

We set out shockingly late from our cabin (9:30am), because we knew we wouldn’t be able to check in to our new place very early, and predicted that we would have neither heat nor horseflies to beat. On our previous ride Rett hadn’t even needed to wear her net at any point, so our cautious hope is that the flies have a sharp seasonal peak, now passed, and/or we have exited their geographical hot-spot for the moment.

The ride was again reasonably gentle. Even though La Junta was a meeting of rivers and we were now heading back upstream, the overall grade was again minimal. And while we used our lowest gears many times to ascend the steep up-and-downs, none of those bumps were higher than 50 feet (excepting the 250-foot one that brought us up to the level of Lake Risopatrón).

We were right about both the temperatures (they remained comfortable) and the flies (they remained absent). The former effect (along with clouds, and even a few drips of rain) might have influenced the latter, since the flies really seem to like heat and sunshine. We could have easily made it into town and eaten lunch there, but we again decided to enjoy the outdoors while eating along the lakeshore.

Puyuhuapi sits at sea-level on an arm of the Gulf of Ancud, the first time we’ve returned to salt water since leaving Chaitén five days ago. So it’s a rather strange twist of geology that Lake Risopatrón, 500 feet above town, with its southern shore less than three miles away from the Gulf and aligned in the same narrow valley, doesn’t have an outflow in that direction, and instead exits northward. Perhaps something to do with a glacier dropping a giant load in the valley? Or another (long-ago) landslide?

Our accommodation wasn’t ready yet, but the woman cleaning it let us put our bikes in our cabin’s separate-but-attached laundry/storage room, allowing us to explore the small town unencumbered. We checked out a couple of the small grocery stores, and then did an unusual thing for both us and this region: walked into a restaurant/bar for a mid-afternoon drink and dessert!

The town’s welcome sign said that Puyuhuapi was founded in 1935, which makes it quite young compared to the world average, but roughly normal for this barely-settled part of Chile, and quite old compared to when the Carretera Austral connected it to the road network in the late 1980s. We had seen quite a bit of construction on the edges of town, at least some of it clearly tourist cabins, so I get the feeling that the region is still adjusting to the tourism that Carretera Austral has delivered. It surely took years after the highway opened for it to even become tourist-able, and then it’s likely taken years after that for locals to become convinced that the tourist flows are consistent (or even consistently growing) and sufficiently-sustainable to support additional investments. But then each new paved section of road and each new cabin makes it easier for even more tourists to come, continuing the cycle of growth.

Thus I’ve been trying to remain conscious of the fact that, more than almost anywhere else, our experience riding here is likely quite a bit different than it would have been just five years ago, and five years from now it would be different still. And I think that’s what’s created some of the surprising-unevenness, where in Villa Santa Lucia, a simple food truck felt like an unusual bit of modernity in the small rural town, while here in only-slightly-larger Puyuhuapi, there is a restaurant with electronic menus serving craft beers, fancy cocktails and desserts, and has a musician singing and playing guitar to entertain guests in the middle of the day.

Days 4-5

Home: Cabañas Don Claudio

For rain-avoidance purposes, we had wanted to book our cabin for four nights, but it had only been available for three. No cancellation materialized, so we were forced to move to another place, also managed by Rett communicating via WhatsApp. We booked two more nights with Don Claudio, and when we checked out of our first place and walked the two blocks to the second, we expected to again just park our bikes, but were pleasantly surprised when Don Claudio appeared and welcomed us to check in immediately. In the cloudy light rain he offered to light the already-built fire in the wood-burning stove, which seemed unnecessary. But the next morning it was definitely quite cool inside so I fired it up myself. As we have been able to tell from all the smoking chimneys, even at the height of summer in Patagonia, heat is sometimes still necessary!