Santa Julia, CL to Puerto Rio Tranquilo, CL

34.0 mi / 7.1 mph / 2036 ft. climbing
Home: Cabañas Los Alamos

With today’s route into the town of Puerto Rio Tranquilo now 10 miles longer than I had initially planned, we were again up at 4:30am. I’d put a 50% chance on someone showing up and setting up camp after we had gone to sleep (because most other cyclists here are crazy), but stepping outside of the abandoned house revealed nothing but the full moon setting behind the black wall of mountains (by the time I fetched my camera, it had already disappeared!) It was 53°F inside the house, and despite having no glass in the window or door in the doorframe, it was definitely warmer than outside, perhaps signaling a return to normal after the strange heat of the last couple mornings.

Many iOverlander reviews about wild camping spots on the Carretera Austral say something like “it’s visible from the road, but there is no traffic after dark anyway”. Rett counted six cars passing in the darkness between our 4:30am wakeup and our 7am start, so either those reviewers are all too asleep to realize how many vehicles continue overnight, or predawn traffic (like many other things) has increased in recent years. Either way, we were completely undisturbed, and I’m sure it wouldn’t have been any different if we’d pitched our tent out in the open.

The gravel-gods chose to smile on us, granting a near-pavement-like “wet” gravel for the first 10 miles. I don’t think it rained at all overnight, so the damp surface (and resulting smoothness) must just be a result of a shaded riverside microclimate much wetter than the dry lands around Coyhaique we were in a few days ago. Combined with the mild hills, we were able to “finish” the last 10 miles of yesterday’s ride in 80 minutes, literally twice as fast as our first 10 miles yesterday. When we passed our previously-targeted campground, Rett said “yeah, that would have been impossible to do yesterday”. I disagreed; it certainly wouldn’t have been fun, and even in retrospect I would have recommended against it, but now knowing how relatively “easy” the stretch was, I think she could have made it if we’d had no other option.

The smooth, more dirt-like “wet” gravel allowed us to cruise easily at double-digit speeds. Even the washboards (visible at left) tended to be avoidable, and not particularly jarring in the rare cases we were forced onto them.
The Murta River shows its unusual brightness even in the deep shadows of morning.
The relatively-small up-and-downs were mostly rideable even when steep, again because we weren’t also trying to ride through a stone ball-pit.
Squeezing the road between this cliff wall and the river was the one spot where it got pretty rough, but we’ll take that over being routed high above the riverbed!
As usual, being up early let us enjoy the glowing morning light.
Given all the mountains and water in Chilean Patagonia, I’m surprised these mirror scenes haven’t been more common.
The mirroring is a bit more abstract here.
It seems strange that in this off-grid area, the government spent enormous sums to somehow string fluorescent lights under the surface of the river, but there’s no arguing that it looks cool!

When the road crossed to the west bank of the Murta River, the gravel gods suddenly revoked their beneficence, returning us to some of the worst loose and washboarded stuff from yesterday. I guess they just wanted to help us get back on track with our original plan? Which…fair! After a couple miles, the loose piles became more-compacted, but washboards remained a regular problem. Especially to Rett’s backside, since her ability to rise from her saddle while moving is a skill she’s still developing, so she was pretty much taking a direct hit from each bump. The nice “wet” gravel of the morning soon became a distant memory, with passing vehicles now kicking up thick clouds of dust. Many of the hills were quite steep, and although Rett’s stomach had thankfully settled compared to yesterday, I still helped ferry her bike up several of them. The only other touring bike we saw all day on the road was in the back of a passing pickup truck, which made Rett surprisingly angry, but I think in retrospect she will feel proud for not “cheating” (heavy air-quotes there, since there is obviously no such thing as “cheating”, but it’s still fair to take pride in our efforts).

The Murta valley broadened and turned into some New Zealand-style hillsides.
In most parts of the Carretera Austral, there are so many mountains that there is usually a mountain blocking you from seing other mountains, so this was a rare panoramic view of a wall of half-dozen peaks.
There were two or three houses near this planted tree-hallway, making it the densest bit of civilization we’d seen in two days.
The cool thing about mountains hiding each other is that you can then be gobsmacked when a window briefly opens to a massive rock like this.
Here the Murta’s milkiness becomes more green than blue.
A bit of Montana.
“I’d live there!” is of course what we said of the house down on the curve of the river.
This distant group of buildings is not a village, but a cemetery! How can there be more buildings in one place for dead people than we’ve seen in total across two days for living people?!
Our first view of General Carrera Lake definitely had echoes of riding to Glenorchy alongside Lake Wakatipu in New Zealand.
Bright blue water, ringed by mountains, and cut in by complex peninsulas and islands, it’s a real visual feast.
Some flowers highlight the contrast with the highly-saturated water.
An incredible view, before the dust clouds from the vehicles come to ruin it.
Looking back down from the steepest hill of the day, a 15% grade that at least was partly “paved” with pavers. They came a little late, since it reached at least 12% on the gravel section, but it was amazing when rolling onto the pavers to feel it suddenly get at least 1 gear easier to pedal.
More hobbit country on the shore of the very un-hobbity-named General Carrera Lake.
#FindRett riding along the big lake and the big mountains.
The lighting on this particular cove, at this particular moment, made the color especially visible.

So despite changing up the last two days of our four-day stretch from Coyhaique a little bit, we made it to Puerto Rio Tranquilo just as planned, and checked into the small-but-livable cabin Rett had found and booked for us on WhatsApp. Having no chips to eat with our roadside PB&J lunch was maybe the biggest consequence of our change, since the original idea had been that a short final day would get us to PRT by lunchtime. Instead, we went out to a hopping place for a burger and beer dinner. In the evening, a windy rain kicked up, marking a well-timed end to the perfectly-clear stretch that got us to here from Coyhaique, exactly as predicted.


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