***TOTAL STATS***
TOTAL DISTANCE: 9,233km / 5,737 miles
TOTAL RIDING DAYS: 111 days (days when our tushes were on our bicycle seats making forward progress)
TOTAL RIDE TIME: 617 hours 42 min!! (amount of time that our tushes were on our bicycle seats making forward progress)
AVG KM/H FOR THE TRIP: 14.95 km/hr – 9.3 miles/hr
NUMBER OF ENGAGEMENTS: 1 perfect one.
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Here are our final maps!
Another long but good blog here folks!! Below outlines the finale of our journey from Lima, Peru to Ushuaia, Argentina “El fin del Mundo.” Our entries discuss our priceless travels from Punta Arena, Chile on to the island of Tierra del Fuego to the “Southernmost city in the world.”
January 7th – January 12, 2011.
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Welcome to Tierra del Fuego!
Continued excitement and elation as we arrived in Ushuaia, Argentina last night after just over 5 months of cycling. The past week has been incredible filled with joy and enthusiasm after our engagement near Punta Arenas. We celebrated with a fancy sit down meal at La Luna, where the staff all came up to congratulate us with a complementary bottle of champagne. We had king crab and tenderloin with roquefort cheese in addition to the best mocha of my life. YUM.
The celebration continued as we woke up early on January 7th and caught a ferry that crosses the Straight of Magellan to the mighty island known as Tierra del Fuego, our last section before Ushuaia. We began riding around noon after catching the once daily ferry to Porvenir, a delicate fishing town on the western shores overlooking the Straight of Magellan. While on the boat, we continued to eye Mt Tam across the straight in the distance and just kept saying how incredible it was to stand atop and have such a monumental moment take place.
Tierra del Fuego means “Land of Fire” and was named so by Ferdinand Magellan, the conqueror sailing under the Spanish Crown, who “discovered” these islands in 1521. The island’s name has changed overtime from his original name for the archipelago as “Land of Smoke” referring to the smoke coming from shoreline fires lit by the Yaghan natives who had lived there over 10,000 years (they were conquered and became extinct in the late 1800s).
Just 147 km of dirt roads remained on the Chilean side of the island before the pavement of Argentina’s RT 3 which will take us into the city known as “el fin del mundo,” the end of the world. Argentina and Chile’s ongoing rivalry can not only be seen by their division of the island (semi-resolved in the Boundary Treaty of 1881), but also in the battle over the “Southernmost City.” This claim is ironic as there is another city, Puerto Williams, that sits across the Drakes Passage, in Chile, which has a population of just 2000 inhabitants. It was built in order for Chile to compete with Argentina over ownership of access to Antartica. Chile officially does not recognize a town as a city if the population is less than 5000 but, because of country rivalry, they make the claim of the most southern city in the world as well.
As we turned eastward to cross the island, we were hopeful of the famous westerly winds of Patagonia to blow us across but had just a gentle push at most as we did a pretty large amount of hard pedaling on the dips and rollers, admiring the ocean waves in the beautiful sunshine. This lack of wind would be forewarning of future riding conditions we would later learn.
We spent the night near one of the biggest estancias we have seen yet. With over 1000 sheep, this working farm/ranch had about 15 folks herding and shoving sheep through a ramp heading into a huge warehouse style building where i presume they were going to sheering them. It was hard to tell but a lot of noise was happening and they suggested we move our tent to an abandoned vandalized building in the middle of sheep territory. After a closer inspection we denied the offer and moved further down the road closer to a penguin colony we were excited to see the following morning.
We awoke excited in hopes of spotting some king penguins, which we read a cyclists blog from 9 months ago who managed to enjoy a sighting. King penguins are the second largest breed of penguins, second only to the emperor penguins, and are normally only found in 3 places, the Northern tip of Antarctica, South Georgia Island, and the Falkland Islands.
We had a couple varying accounts of where they might be located and hoped they hadn’t gone out fishing for breakfast when we arrived, as we later learned they can fish for up to 9 days while they leave their companion to sit on the egg! Upon rounding a large curve in the road we spotted three campers and some other cyclists we met the day before beside a long fence looking towards a white dome shelter that overlooked what looked like small white spots in the distance…. it was them, King Penguins!
-Justino
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A Rare Visit with King Penguins
We quickly realized times had changed as this was now a private park, where an entry fee of $25 USD was collected before entering. The initial rudeness of the park attendant was later forgiven as you could tell he caught a lot of flak about how expensive the entry was. There certainly is an initial shock, especially when you are expecting it to be free, but it is now obvious that this place is in need of protection from those who are trying encounter better photographs and don’t realize that these are wild creatures.
The guide let us in early as we told him that we were on bicycles and didn’t intend to spend the whole day at the park. We walked along a hardly definable path to get to a 2 x 12″ piece of wood across the river where the penguins had settled. It was obvious that they have not invested much of the entry costs into a more stable bridge. Our first encounter was on the shore where our guide managed to spot them in the binoculars. We slowly approached and crouched down before sitting on the sand about 20 feet away. The penguins were quite fearless, and they acknowledged our presence before diving into the frigid waters and swimming around us giving us a pleasant display and warm welcome. They splashed and trumpeted before submerging and departing for some breakfast.
Our group of 5 then walked to a more stationary group near the rivers edge where a a young penguin was regrowing some new feathers and others just stood quietly. We spent the better part of two hours in silence watching these majestic animals stand still. One would occasionally extend his neck to scratch his chest with its beak and another would waddle a bit closer to recognize our presence.
In the end we felt that this one of the more special experiences on the trip thus far, as we don’t know when we’ll have another such encounter with these rare birds.
~Justino
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Look up “Hospitality” in a dictionary and you’ll find “See Argentinians”
Where do I begin? Argentina, we love you with all our hearts.
After our meditative morning with King Penguins, we hunkered down for a day on gravel roads with an unusual headwind. Yowsers. Of course, by this point, a headwind that is ridable is not all too bad. We road on, high on our visit with the beautiful birds, and made it to the Chilean border at 6:00pm. The “aduana” as the border crossings are called, was filled with frowning workers and a terrible torture movie of some sort on. Get me out of here asap please.
Since both borders are open 24 hours a day, and the Argentinian crossing was only 6 miles away, we decided to continue on since we heard from previous cyclists that the Argentine aduana hosts cyclists! We enter the patrol building and simply laugh. The guards are playing upbeat dance music, drinking mate, and smile to greet us at the door. I am immediately taken back to our New Year’s dinner with the boys of aduana Cancha Carrera. After we do our normal passport stamp into the country, they show us to a waiting area which is toasty warm with a stove and hand us keys to the nicest shower I have had yet on this trip. We slept cozy on the floor as the wind howled outside.
Next morning, with the wind once again on our side although just a light breeze, we rolled to Rio Grande, where we hoped to fish for some big trout. Turns out, you need to spend over $150 for a one day fishing permit, and the cops scan the shores of the river with binoculars. Hmm.. expensive hostels, only a closed campsite, and minimal food. We decided to move along, unsure where to camp and weary because dark clouds were starting to roll down from the Northeast.
As we exited town, we rolled slowly along the suburbs, known as “barrios,” and saw a couple working in a greenhouse. Gardeners are usually nice folk, so we pulled over and asked if we could have a little water and camp near the greenhouse. We immediately became part of the Vargara family, as Julia and Jorge took us into their work shed, that had a table, stove, heater, water canister, radio, tv, and bed, to sit and chat over mate and crackers with dulce. (By the way, how crazy is it that every gentleman that has been a huge help to us on this trip has been named Jorge?)
I felt at home chatting with the Vargaras, even though they did not speak a word of English. They were patient with my Spanish and did not make fun of me when I struggled to talk but rather encouraged me on and found it fun to play charades when I did not know a word. Jorge and Julia have four charming sons, aged 21, 15, 12, and 11. What impressed me the most about their boys is their sincere passion for life and lack of teenage angst. They came over to meet us and we spent the afternoon meeting their chickens, dogs, and playing in the field. They told us we should stay sheltered from the evening rain in their garden house and must attend dinner at their home. We walked with them back to their beautiful casa in the barrios for a delicious meal of large quantities of milanesa (pounded carne with breaded crumbs), 3 large bowls of fresh lettuce from the garden, and 2 kilos of potatoes. Four growing boys and two cyclists… you can imagine the amount of food consumed. “There are never leftovers in this house,” Julia laughed.
Of course, dinner in Argentina is normally around 11:30pm, so by the end of the meal, we thanked our amazing hosts with glossy, tired eyes for delicious food, ping-pong, music, and laughs. They encouraged us to return on our way back from Ushuaia, which we could not refuse. With big smiles and full bellies, we spent the night in their garden house, cozy and warm once again as the cold rain began to pour on the tin rooftop.
The rain continued throughout the night and into the next afternoon so it was not a hard decision to stay another night. After all, we do not leave Buenos Aires until mid-February so we are in no hurry. Jorge came over to pick some spinach and was excited to see us for an afternoon mate break. His two youngest boys wanted to take us on a fishing trip, so we spent the afternoon hiking through thick weeds to the Rio Grande with fishing poles (we were just going to watch them fish). Justin laughed as he felt like he was 20 years younger, as these boys explored just like he did as a little boy.
The family told us we once again must come to dinner, no if, ands, or buts. Turns out, it was Aunt Marie’s cumpleanos (birthday)! We spent the afternoon/evening chatting while cooking a huge feast of spinach cannelloni. We made 60 crepes and boiled spinach, chopped over 12 onions, who knows how many pounds of hamberguesa was cooked in a tomato sauce, and after wrapping the cannellonis, they were baked with fresh cheese topped on each. Talk about melt in your mouth goodness. Holy cow. The best part, we all cooked it together as a big huge family (well the boys would take us away from time to time to show us their break dancing skills, or pictures of their soccer stars). At 11:45pm, we said grace with a total of 13 of us at the table and feasted away.
As we set out the next morning without a cloud in the sky, I had a hard time shutting the garden house door. I would truly miss this family- their warmness and generous ways will stay with me forever. We really hope to visit on our way back (Julia said she will teach me how to make empanadas!). During our morning ride conversation, we discussed our time spent with the Vargaras and noted that while there was little to no food in the house (no pantry), very little space (three bedrooms and one bathroom for six people), there were more than 20 plates stored in their cabinets. It was easy to see the value of this family was sharing time with loved ones, old and new.
Melissa
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Bakery Heaven
From the Vargaras, we only had 98km to the small town of Tolhuin with the slogan “the heart of the island.” This little town is known for its huge bakery La Union which so happens to be a Casa de Cyclistas! We rolled up to the back door of the bakery around 3:45pm and before we even dismounted our bikes, Jorge (surprise, surprise about the name) came running out to greet us with hugs and a smile. Without knowing anything about us, he gives us a quick tour and shows us where to park our bikes in the storage building where a room is dedicated to cyclists with beds and a clean bathroom and shower! We were first shocked by the amount of flour stacked in the building – which they go through in less than two months time! Jorge later explained that they go through about 4,000lbs of flour during the weekend!!!
We set our stuff down, put on warmer clothes, and walked over to the bakery for some good eats. Jorge and D showed us around the inner workings (the place is huge) and then we entered the bakery from behind the counter. Our first pastries and hot drinks were on the house… then our seconds… and when we tried to pay, D just kept giving us the thumbs up and saying our money was no good there. Unbelievable! We were so grateful for our stomachs… and a little nervous for our growing bellies with delicious pastries and ridiculously tasty empanadas (pastries stuffed with chicken or beef).
Our roommate for the night, Nezumi -another cyclists from Japan riding to Ushuaia from Buenos Aires, had a spectacular energy, excited by the little things in life. He did not speak much English or Spanish, but we didn’t mind. When I said, “Hello, my name is Melissa,” in Japanese, a phrase I learned 10 years ago from my friend Yuka Nakagawara while we sat on the bench during a high school basketball game, his eyes widened with priceless excitement and we all had a good laugh. Justin and Nezumi exchanged juggling and magic tricks before we all called it a night with nervous jitters about our next day of riding.
In the morning, we went back into the bakery for more goodies, and again D refused to let us pay! More empanadas, cheese bread, and pastries filled our bellies and we packed more for the road. Each item we asked for a certain amount of, he added a few more for good luck. We love you Argentinians. Did I already say that? Because I could say it 1,000 times more.
We separated ourselves from the delicious treats around 10am and hit the open road for the last time (well, heading South to Ushuaia on this journey at least). We caught up with Nezumi at lunchtime and shared our copious amounts of bread and cheese. He was delighted and shared some cookies as well. Our last climb was nice and gradual with sunshine and a few scattered clouds. The scenery beautiful and the encouragement from cars passing by brought tears to me eyes once again (I have had a lot of happy tears this trip!).
Laughter came from all of us when cars and busses passed by with cameras hanging out of every window to take pictures of us. Justin and I explained as best we could to Nezumi how we sometimes feel like giraffes in a zoo with all the tourists stopping to take our photos. Often times, when we stop at rest areas where a tourist bus pulls over, I prepare myself for a dozen pictures. I find it special that women come and huddle around me to ask questions (which I try my best to answer) and line up one at a time to get a photo with me – I wonder how many countries in the world have digital cameras with me and La Tallarine Verde (my bike) on them.
The best Giraffe moment was back in Bolivia on the Laguna’s route when a jeep skidded to a halt and two Koreans jumped out of a car and just started snapping picture after picture of us on a rough climb. The scariest was in Northern Argentina, when a man driving a car the opposite direction was also trying to take photos of us on a main highway.
“I feel like a Moviestar!!!” Nezumi said with the biggest smile possible. I laughed and shook my head in agreement as we all crested the last climb to Ushuaia… now, it was a beautiful gentle roll to el fin del mundo.
~Melissa
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El Fin del Mundo
Well there you have it, 155 days after landing in Lima, Peru we find ourselves relaxing at the tip of South America with countless stories that touch our hearts and hopefully yours, as well as new friends to greet our future with. This is what traveling is all about – letting loose from the comforts of home, accepting challenges that push you to new levels of growth, and feeling the excitement of truly living in the present moment.
Thank you to our friends and family back home for all your love and encouragement, and thank you to our new friends and family we have met along the road. South America, you have been good to us.
I guess these giraffes are headed back for the open plains of Africa were they’ll fit right in again :).
(Oh, and on a bit of a side note, I have spent our first day relaxing here at a hillside campground with a view of Drake’s straight researching wedding details and I am now officially a member of “the knot” website. Ha! We are getting married!!)
With all our Love,
Melissa & Justin
[As I finished signing off, Sweet Home Alabama started playing on this Spanish radio! I feel like it would be the rolling credits if this was a movie… maybe we could change the lyrics to sweet home Argentina!]
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