The Carretera Austral

We picked up my aunt and uncle from the airport in Puerto Montt and hit the road up to the volcano Osorno and a waterfall I had read about.

I got another migraine after our hike, and enjoyed that one even less, having been hoping that it was a once off. Little was I to know that the migraines would carry on every second day like clockwork for the next 30 days. The funny thing that I noted, after they stopped and which I still have no explanation for, is that I got the first one on the 10^th of January and the last one on the 10^th of February. But more on that later. We caught a series of ferries, including a 6 hour ferry through the cloud covered fjords from Hornopiren to Caleta Gonzalo, passing huge waterfalls and little valleys that I ached to explore.

Upon completing the ferry portion of our trip, we were now officially on the Carretera Austral, heading south to Ushuaia. 

With some energy left, Mom, Dad, Heidi and I decided to hike to another waterfall that was classed as 3 hours round trip, medium difficulty. What followed was a trek up and down wooden staircases, clambering over tree roots and rocks, fording a bustling river because there was no bridge and climbing house sized boulders, complete with ladders and rope.

The reward however, was 100 percent worth it. A thundering waterfall, with mist surrounding the canyon, and the river gushing its way hurriedly towards the ocean. We sat in awe for a while until we started getting cold and then turned back and made our way home. 
Making our way more and more south, we came to the little town of Puyuhuapi, just 15 km from a national park that I insisted we go to, as it had in its center one of the things I knew we might never witness in our lifetime: the Ventisquero Colgante, the hanging glacier.

Perched between two mountain peaks and with two torrents of water falling some 50 meters to the river below, it was worth the 6 km return hike, including 1 ½ km uphill climbing. As we were a bit late in the afternoon, it was just us at the lookout with a light drizzle falling, the chucao birds hopping around begging bits of crumb, and even a friendly little mouse (so much cuter when they aren’t in your house).     

Continuing down the Carretera, we stopped over in the coastal towns of Puertos Cisnes and Aisen, witnessing in the former the curious Festa de Pesca Frito, which had nothing to do with fried fish in the slightest. The entire town comes together and builds a house, complete with windows, walls and flooring, affixed to huge wooden beams under the house, and then collectively pull it down the beach with long ropes until the beams submerge. The floating house is then floated across the bay and pulled through the streets to someone who needs it. In this case it was a lady whose house had burned down two weeks before and she had nowhere to go. A show of community and neighborly compassion that warms the heart.
The largest town in the region is Coyhaique, where we stopped over for propane and new hiking boots for Mom. We also went to an oculist, to see if my migraines weren’t perhaps the product of bad eyesight. Sadly they were unable to help me, other than to inform me I’m slightly nearsighted.

Finally we wound our way to the grand ending of the Carretera and one of the jewels of the trip: Lago General Carrera, a blue green beauty that almost hurt your eyes to look at. 
Puerto Murta, a blip on the map, but a memorable stop on our way, was a dusty, forgotten place with one little restaurant where we stopped and asked the lady if she could make us breakfast. She agreed and we found ourselves in what appeared to be her front living room, haphazardly converted into a dining room. We even brought our own bacon and asked her to cook it and she ended up charging us a dollar an egg. Ah, the best of memories.

Rio Tranquilo in February was so hot you felt as if you were drowning in the thick air. We purchased tickets for the earliest boat out to the Capillas de Marmol, the marble caves, because being the photographer that I am, I wanted the best lighting and nobody wanted to die of heatstroke. The boat nosed through the water, the morning chill setting over us. The freestanding pillars of marble, created by an ocean long ago was bone white and the surrounding turquoise of the water made a stark contrast. Our guide told us that in past years when the water level was lower, one couple had their wedding on a piece of marble right there in the middle of the lake, in the shadows of the “Chapel” as it is known. He also said that if you touched the “Chapel” once you would kiss the guide, twice you would marry a Chilean and three times you’d marry the captain. The guide was cute enough in my opinion, but the captain wasn’t risking three times, so he steered us far away.

Driving the rest of the way around the lake, through the border and to the town of Perito Moreno, we dropped off Jabez and Stefan for their camping trip. We would rendezvous in El Calafate 4 days later.