So much has happened in the past three days, since leaving Futaleufu three days ago, that it honestly feels like three or four weeks of activity and experiences. Unreal. First, a couple of views from there.

On my hike, far above town. It was so serene and chill up there that I felt as though I’d discovered, yet again, the secret of life. The universe was vibrating in an amazing frequency and I didn’t want to leave, so I just hung out for almost two hours. I need to go back there…

At my hotel, run by a charming Italian named Silvano, who has lived in Chile for the past thirty years. I collect heart shaped rocks, so this really moved me.

Futaleufú is totally magical. From the moment I drove into this very small village, with its stunning mountain scenery in every direction just a stone’s throw from the Argentine border, I knew that I’d found somewhere very special. Adventure beckoned N, S, E and W, so deciding what to jump into was the central puzzle.

I’ve never seen rivers this startlingly green and crystal clear, and they’re everywhere in this region. The glacial till that washes into them reflects sunlight in a mystical way, creating dazzling jewels everywhere you look. You could spot a salmon here from a mile away.

Looking NE while hiking – Chile’s end and Agentina’s beginning – the Cordillera that separates both:

I’m gonna do a little photo dump here, because I feel that they’re so much better at conveying the vibe of where I’ve been than mere words:

Jean Baptiste, originally from France, but living in Brazil and Chile for the past twenty eight years, bicycling to Futaleufu from Chaiten – 75 miles of very challeng terrain on unpaved roads. He’s 79 years young. Tough and very sweet dude:

Rosalinda and her granddaughter. She owns the land from which my hike began, and her family requests a small entrance fee / donation. The best three dollars I’ve ever spent…

What a beautiful sign entering town. Translated, it says “Futaleufu – a Landscape Painted by God.” How incredibly appropriate.

Changing weather headng south towards Puerto Aysen:

Villa O’Higgins – the Sirens’ call – and super difficult to reach, as the Carretera turns into a pretty savage dirt road for the last 790 miles. Gotta have my fillings checked when I get home…

Met Darius Braun in a snowstorm – on his bike – on a mountain pass at 3,800’ el – dropping down to Rio Ibáñez. Iron man – he’s biked from Calgary to here – 20,000 km after suffereing a stroke and paralysis on his left side from a brain tumor that was thankfully removed. Hard to grasp. I feel like a total wimp…

Meandering south:

Un gaucho:

The Rio Baker, world famous fly fishing and rafting river. Its color astonished me:

My view on La Carretera (one of them, anyway)…

Patrick form Poland, who is riding from Ushuaia north and hike a biked from Argentina into Chile. I noticed that he’s carrying a ton of weight and he said he’s got to shed a bunch:

When you get to within 60 miles of Villa O’Higgins, the push requires an eight mile ferry across Estero Mitchell, which connects with the Pacific Ocean 65 miles west. Here’s Inez, who mans the tiny restaurant adjacent to the dock:

No charge for the ride. The government picks up the tab.

Villa O’Higgins is everything I’d read it was – lonely, windswept, forboding and achingly beautiful. It was created only in 1966, and it sits where the icefields of Chile and Argentina completely overtake the landscape.

Fun (kind of) story – I found a gtreat place to camp along the O’Higgins River, which separates Chile and Argentina, about three miles outside of town. A flat, grassy meadow offered plenty of space to park and take photos of the changing sky. That’s Argentina across the lake:

The next morning, after it rained all night, I decided to pull forward and make a large turn to exit rather than simply back out of where I’d parked. Bad idea…. my camper got stuck in the saturated ground, and I couldn’t move it forward or back despite valiantly trying. Fortunately, the cavalry not only arrived, but was camped about 100 meters from me on this desolate little spit.

My buddy Friedl from Austria. What a rig. He pulled me out of the mud this morning after getting bogged down on Lake O’Higgins, where we both camped last night. Amazing dude. Been traveling around the world since 2018.

The shallow grave my camper would have succumbed to:

On Friedl’s truck. So true. We had coffee after the rescue and realized that we viewed life in exactly the same way – time is the most precious commodity that we have and are given, and the way in which we use it makes all the difference in living. Amen.

Yes – it happened again on the way out of Villa O’Higgins – The coffee I bought to go was leaking all over and I reached over to grab it, causing the camper to drift onto the steeply banked and very soft roadside berm. Dang – no way it was coming out, so I locked it and started walking back to town to try and locate Friedl. Within a minute, his Mad Max vehicle came into view, and the cavalry once again extricated me from a tight spot. Geez – not like these were life threatening situations, but if you get stuck here, you’re on your own unless and until someone comes upon you and can assist. I drove northward with extreme focus after that one…

Marketing photo:

En route to Parque Nacional de Patagonia, which was created after Doug and Kristine Tompkins bought and donated land that connected two national reserves to form Patagonia National Park. Stunning in its scale and beauty.

The Baker River yet again, hundreds of miles from where I first spied it in Futaleufu:

Parque Nacional de Patagonia headquarters. An amazing lodge, museum and camping oasis miles and miles from everywhere. Thank you, Doug and Kristine:

Today marks fourteen days into this six week journey. Reflections and observations? Chile is the wildest place I’ve been in terms of geography and landscape. It is staggeringly huge, beautiful and raw. It exudes charm everywhere. It is, however, quite difficult and challenging to access overland but, to me, more than well worth the effort, as the rewards are unreal.

The Chilean people are super warm and inviting, and most don’t have much in terms of material things and possessions. Their souls are kind and welcoming.

Weather – it has rained every day (on and off, mostly) for the past six days, but there’s not much one can do about the weather when on the road. As a number of Chileans have told me – that (rain and wind) is Patagonia, so you’re seeing it in its true form.

I’m headed into Argentina next, where I’ll enter and head south towards Ushuaia – the southernmost town on the planet – and the famed Torres del Paine National Park. Lots to see, so I’m gonna get rolling…