I don't remember whose idea it was originally. It was probably my dad who, when talking about the legendary route 40 in Argentina, said something like: "I really want to do that on motorcycles,' to which I most likely replied: "Well then, why don't we?". The idea remained a joke for a couple years. Then I finally asked my dad if he really wanted to do it because if so, we could. We just had to start planning. That's how I ended up postponing my Master's degree (though let's be honest, I probably would have done that anyway) to be able to go to the end of the world with my dad.
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| Crossing the Andes northeast of Santiago (Chilean side) |
Our trip started out as what seemed like an endless series of unfortunate events. Like rocks rather than pearls on a very itchy string. First, our flight out of Copenhagen was late resulting in a 24 delay of the entire trip. Then my backpack containing my motorcycle helmet and gloves didn't make it to Santiago with us. This resulted in me frantically buying a couple of T-shirts and renting a helmet last minute because we didn't want to miss any more days on the motorcycles.
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| Crossing the Andes northeast of Santiago (Chilean side) |
When we finally hit the road, it was bliss. For an hour or two. Then we reached the turnoff for the road going over the mountain pass separating Chile and Argentina right next to Aconcagua, the highest point in South America. We had been told the road was very rideable, even paved though we hadn't dared to really believe that and our scepticism was justified. The road turned out to be a never-ending stream of the most unforgiving switchbacks made up of huge loose rocks. Our bikes took a fall or two trying and failing at maintaining balance through some of the more menacing turns but somehow we made it up the mountain side without serious injury.
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| The death road crossing the mountain pass between Chile and Argentina |
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| On the border between Chile and Argentina at Cristo Redentor de los Andes |
After our descend down the Argentinian side we made it back to paved road but our troubles were still just getting started. When we tried to get the motorcycles through customs, we were denied. It turned out our rental partner had forgotten to sign the permits allowing us to take the bikes out of Chile. After several hours of waiting and expensive phone calls, we finally received new signed permits via email allowing my dad to get his bike through. But not mine. Another mistake had been made. This time, a wrong date had been put into some computer system saying I was suposed to take the bike back into Chile that day rather than out. Fixing this mistake required a visit to a notary which wouldn't be open until the morning. Luckily the boss at the chilean border control, with whom I was now on a first name basis, allowed me to take the bike 10 km into Argentina to spend the night at some proper accommodation as long as I promised to come back the next morning when the notary's office opened.
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| Crossing the Andes northeast of Santiago (Argentinian side) |
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| Crossing the Andes northeast of Santiago (Argentinian side) |
Leaving the border at around 22:30, we thought our luck was as bad as it could get. Turns out life can be even more sadistic. Riding down to our hostel, my phone fell out of its holder on the handlebar. We managed to find it after about 20 minutes of riding up and down the pitch black mountain road but not before several trucks had run over it demolishing it to a bar of crushed glass that fell apart in your hand. But we saved the simcard and "luckily", my dad had brought an extra phone so I wasn't completely destitute. Still, we couldn't help but laugh as we ate our midnight dinner at the hostel. A little bad luck is annoying but that much of it is just kinda funny.
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| At the Chilean customs' office |
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| Heading down the Andes in Argentina |
The following morning, we got my bike through customs after only a couple of hours at the border and our road finally seemed to be rock-free, filling up with pearls instead. Zigzagging out of the mountains, we reached the vineyards that cover the Mendoza province. Here, we made a right onto the historic route 40 heading south. This route covers more than 5000 km starting in the north of Argentina close to the Bolivian border and then it goes all the way down deep into Patagonia though we were only going to cover a part of it. Starting out as regular highway in populous Mendoza, settlements and towns thinned out and multiple lanes turned to one. Snaking next to the Andes, route 40 goes through a whole lotta nothing. A landscape only covered with dry bushes and a sparse population of cows. Interupting riverbeds and snowcapped volcanos create a feeling of depth on an otherwise 2D-esque horizon.
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| Staying in Pareditas on route 40 |
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| On route 40 |
Gas stations are the most vibrant and lively establishments on this desolate route though not as frequent as one could hope. We almost learned this the hard way heading into the province of Neuquen when we skipped filling our tanks in the final Mendozan town 60-something km from the provincial border due to the long line of waiting cars. Our map promised us a gas station in the middle of nowhere just beyond the border but when we got there, the place was empty. Shop boarded up and covered with various graffiti. We spent a solid 10 minutes panicking discussing whether we should go back adding more than 120 km to our day or hope our tanks had enough to make it 150 km to the next gas station. Luckily, we didn't have to make that decision because just as we turned our engines back on, a guy emerged from the worndown building and helped us fill up our tanks.
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| At a gas station in the middle of nowhere on route 40 |
That seemed like a pretty good sign our luck was finally turning around. Not to say we didn't still encounter challenges. The rest of the day took us through almost 100 km worth of loose gravel roads in the scorching afternoon sun heading into Patagonia followed by the heaviest side wind I've ever experinced almost blowing us off the road. That lasted for more than an hour as we were coming up a mountain pass in the setting sun. Coming down on the other side, we finally reached our base for the night right next to the halfway point of the entire route 40. But all of that is part of the deal with motorcycle touring, why we do it. Being exposed to the elements and tackling whatever road or horizon you find around the next corner is part of the adventure and the fun.
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| Gravel roads on route 40 |
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| Halfway point on route 40 |
Our final stretch on route 40 took us through the Lake District. The distance we were able to cover in a day became marginally shorter here as tourists and heavy traffic dominate the area but for good reason. The Road of the Seven Lakes from San Martín de los Andes to Villa La Angostura was paradisiacal and seeing the city of Bariloche across the gigantic ocean-like Nahuel Huapi Lake was positively breathtaking. In Bariloche, I met up with some friends of mine from Denmark (though one of them is originally from Buenos Aires) who happened to be vacationing there at the same time. The world is big, wide, and beautiful and also wonderfully small sometimes.
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On the Road of the Seven Lakes
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On the Road of the Seven Lakes
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| In front of Nahuel Huapi Lake, Bariloche |
From Bariloche, we had to head west to go back into Chile. This time, crossing the border only required the normal amount of Southamerican bureaucracy and took us through a pretty gorgeous alpine mountain pass before descending into a sea of corn fields and green hills. The physical shape of Chile makes any traveling along its vertical axis pretty homogeneous. The Pan-American Highway is the fastest and almost only way to travel north/south in the country unless you want to doodle your way up along logging roads with the ocasional coastal stretch. We ended up doing a little bit of both spending most of our remaining days on the highway to make it back to Santiago in time while making a left every evening to spend our nights next to the Pacific Ocean.
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| Cardenal Antonio Samoré Pass on the border between Chile and Argentina |
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| By the Pafific Ocean near Valdivia, Chile |
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From our hotel next to the Pacific Ocean near Concepción, Chile
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Sunset by the Pacific, Chile
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| Heading out in the morning |
In Santiago, we returned the bikes having to pay only a couple hundred dollars for the damages caused by the death road on our first day. In the meantime, my backpack had showed up at the motorcycle shop. Though I wasn't able to use the helmet I'd brought all the way from Europe, I was reunited with my camping gear which we would be needing the next few days. We caught a flight to Punta Arenas, a fishing town in the deep south of Chile with an unexpected amount of strip clubs and an expected amount of torrential wind. This did prove partially fatal to my tent and seemingly fatal to me and my dad on a hiking trip in Torres Del Paine National Park, the jewel of Patagonia which is only a few hours' drive from Punta Arenas. We pitched up my tent just outside the park and spent a couple of days exploring the jagged mountain massif.
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| Returning the motorcycles in Santiago, Chile |
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At our campsite by Torres del Paine, Chile
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Leaning against the wind in Torres del Paine
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Fixing up our tent and using our truck as protection against the Patagonian winds
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| Torres del Paine National Park, Chile |
While my meetup with friends in Bariloche was preplanned, I ended up literally stumbling upon another friend of mine on the hiking trail heading to the Mirador Torres Del Paine. I met this Aussie gal back in 2018 in Krakow, Poland while on an interrail trip. After visiting her in Australia in late 2019, I hadn't seen her in four years until she walked passed me on the trail, doing one of the bigger treks with her boyfriend. What a wonderfully small world. That was definitely the highlight of the day despite fierce competition from the view at the top and completing such a strenuous hike with my dad.
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Torres del Paine, Chile
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| Stumbling upon an old friend on the trail |
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| By Mirador Torres del Paine, Chile |
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By Mirador Torres del Paine, Chile
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In front of Grey Glaciar, Torres del Paine, Chile
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| Torres del Paine, Chile |
We returned our rented pickup truck in Punta Arenas and caught a bus crossing into Argentina for the second time. Now, we went to the very end of Patagonia to Ushuaia, the southernmost town in the world and the final stop before Antarctica. Here, we spent one day hiking around Tierra Del Fuego National Park and another sailing along the Beagle Channel to Martillo Island, home to a penguin colony. Ushuaia was a busier place than we expected. Enormous cruise ships turn parts of it into complete chaos certain times a day but you can still feel the isolation, mystique, and wonder of the place among the sunhats and numbered name tags.
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| Tierra del Fuego National Park, Argentina |
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| Tierra del Fuego National Park, Argentina |
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| Martillo Island, Beagle Channel, Argentina |
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| Martillo Island, Beagle Channel, Argentina |
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| Reunited with my host family in Puerto Rico, Misiones in the northeastern corner of Argentina |
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| Argentinian asado |
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| Sailing on the Paraná River, Misiones, Argentina |
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| Iguazú Falls, Misiones, Argentina |
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| Iguazú Falls, Misiones, Argentina |
