Cycling Patagonia: Punta Arenas to Caleta Tortél, Chile
22 December 2024 - 13 January 2025
22 Dec - Ferry from Porvenir to Punta Arenas (cycling: 7.0 mi (11.3 km); ferry: 27 mi (44 km))
23-28 Dec - Christmas in Punta Arenas
29 Dec - Punta Arenas to Villa Tehuelches (63.2 mi, 101.7 km)
30 Dec - Villa Tehuelches to Villa Renoval (51.0 mi, 82.1 km)
31 Dec - Villa Renoval to Puerto Natales (40.4 mi, 65.0 km)
1-10 Jan - Layover in Puerto Natales (New Year’s Day, sick days, ferry wait)
11-13 Jan - Ferry from Puerto Natales to Caleta Tortél (ferry: 450 mi (725 km))
Crossing the Strait of Magellan
When Europeans first arrived in Patagonia, their primary motive was to find a way around it. With no treasures like gold, sugar or coffee, the southern cone was viewed largely as an obstacle along the way to Asia. Even after Ferdinand Magellan became the first European to sail around the southern tip of the Americas in 1520, Spain, France and England all devoted dozens of voyages to map and explore the region’s labyrinth of waterways - mainly looking for the best shipping route to get from Europe to Asia. As it turned out, Magellan got it right. For several hundred years, the safest route from the Atlantic to the Pacific was through the Strait of Magellan.
However, over the past century the Strait has lost some of its standing. Ships now prefer to sail through the Panama Canal (completed in 1914) because the route is so much shorter. Alternatively, some huge container ships choose to traverse the open ocean around the tip of South America (i.e., Cape Horn), because the Strait is quite narrow in some places - with tricky water currents - making it difficult for the giant ships to maneuver. As a result, the Strait is relatively uncrowded these days. Most of the ships within it are local commercial deliveries, ferries, fishing boats, Antarctic research vessels, and the occasional cruise ship.
It is still a pretty wide water channel, though. And it stood between us and the mainland of South America. To continue our journey, we would have to cross the Strait of Magellan.
Our crossing started with a 20 minute bike ride from Porvenir to the ferry dock. But the sign on the ferry terminal’s door said the ticket office wouldn’t open until 11:30am - handing us a 1.5 hr wait. We killed some time by walking around the docks to admire the old, crusty, crabbing boats. Then we settled into our camp chairs near the door of the terminal to wait. At moments like that we’re always glad to have those camp chairs. They’ve come in just as handy in urban settings (including having a roadside snack while cycling), as they have for actual use around a campsite.
Fortunately, the ticket office opened promptly at 11:30, and the ferry arrived at the dock soon after that.
Our bikes waited patiently near the dock for the ferry, Pathagon (seen out in the bay), to come and take us across the Strait of Magellan. TABSA Ferry Terminal, Porvenir, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Boarding the ferry was pleasantly easy. One of the deck hands showed us where to stow our bikes under a stairwell, resting against a wall. We were delighted when he told us that we didn’t need to lash the bikes to the boat with a rope (a laborious process that we never enjoy). And he was right. The ferry ride was very smooth, with no danger of the bikes being knocked around or tipping over.
Settled in for the ferry ride, our bikes were stowed under a stairwell, out of the weather. TABSA Ferry, Porvenir, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The ferry was packed to capacity with cars, pickup trucks, campers, and even a load of horses. We wondered if the horses had any idea they were going for a ride on a ship. TABSA Ferry, Porvenir, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The ferry ride itself was uneventful, and we both dozed off for a while. Two hours later, we arrived in Punta Arenas.
Christmas in the City of Red Roofs
Punta Arenas (pop. 146,000) is the biggest city in southern Chile. However, its early years were anything but auspicious. Spanish settlements in the area during the 1500s all failed. It took another 300 years before the government of Chile decided that it needed to have a permanent presence along the Strait of Magellan to protect its territorial claims. Finally, in the 1840s Chile sent a group of colonists to build a fort along the Strait. It promptly morphed into a penal colony.
In the late 1880s prosperity eventually smiled upon Punta Arenas. Gold was discovered in the hills across the channel, and wool from the area’s many sheep was in high demand. As global commerce boomed, the city became a thriving port-of-call for all the trading ships passing by. But its glory days were brief - cut short by the opening of the Panama Canal a mere 30 years later.
With its storied history as the main port along the Strait of Magellan, you might expect Punta Arenas to have a romantic sobriquet evoking adventure and mystique. But you would be mistaken. It seems that for most of its history, the thing people noticed most about the city was the color of the roofs - which was red. Different colored roofs were apparently not widely available until the 1970s, and Punta Arenas is still known as the City of Red Roofs (even though most of the roofs aren’t red anymore).
One of the things to do in Punta Arenas is walk up to an overlook for great views of the city, with the Strait of Magellan in the distance. From this vantage point we only saw a couple of buildings with the iconic ‘red roofs’ that used to dominate the city. Blue seems popular these days. Hill of the Cross Overlook, Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
With Christmas approaching, we ended up spending a few extra days in Punta Arenas to relax (and to ensure we had access to food and shelter over the holiday when stores and many small hotels close). Here are a few photos from our walks around this city of the South:
As expected, the explorer Ferdinand Magellan is fondly remembered throughout Punta Arenas as the first European to successfully sail around the southern tip of Patagonia. In addition to many businesses and landmarks bearing his name, a grand statue of Magellan holds the place of honor at the center of the main plaza. Plaza de Armas, Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
This troupe of young drummers was out one afternoon at the base of Magellan’s statue, entertaining folks with their energetic performance. Plaza de Armas, Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A bike path and pedestrian walkway ran along the banks of the Strait of Magellan. It was accented with plenty of public art, like this mural depicting lively waterfront scenes of the past. Costanera Waterfront, Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
One of the most famous works of art in Punta Arenas is the Monument to the Crew of the Schooner Ancud. This was the boat that carried the first permanent, Chilean settlers (10 men, two women and a child) to the Strait of Magellan in 1843. It also established the first, formal claim of the Strait by Chile. Costanera Waterfront, Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Interestingly, one of the main attractions in Punta Arenas was the municipal cemetery. Its opulence recalls Punta Arenas’s heyday, when residents became fabulously wealthy from the international commerce supported by the city. This passageway through sculpted trees led between areas of the cemetery. Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Palatial mausoleums - often with Croatian or Germanic surnames - projected the former wealth and power of families who made their fortunes here. Punta Arenas Municipal Cemetery, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Many of the grave plots were established by ‘societies,’ that often provided resources for the burial of their members within the group’s plot. For example, this gravestone referenced the Equestrian Society, and even included some horse statues for good measure. Punta Arenas Municipal Cemetery, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
In Punta Arenas, Christmas was a relatively subdued event. There were almost no public holiday displays, even in the central plaza. This cheerful Santa, waving from a balcony on a commercial building, was one of just a handful of decorations we saw around town. Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A Bit of Bike Maintenance Drama
On Christmas Day everything in town was closed, so we took the opportunity to do some work on our bikes. The chains had “stretched” a bit. (Well, chains don’t really stretch, but they do elongate since the area around the rivets becomes worn and larger, giving the appearance of a stretched chain.) So one task was to use the ‘eccentric bottom bracket insert’ to tighten the chains. This is done by rotating the insert to increase the tension on the chain.
We were able to tighten PedalingGal’s chain without any problems. But PedalingGuy’s eccentric insert wouldn’t rotate. No matter how hard he pushed on it, the insert just wouldn’t budge (and to be clear, he pushed really hard). We had a similar problem the last time we changed the chains, in Panama City. Back then, we managed to get the insert loose with an overnight soak in WD-40, and a lot of elbow grease. But the problem was becoming more serious. We decided that we needed some professional help.
The day after Christmas we took PedalingGuy’s bike to the Patagonia MTB Trails bike store in Punta Arenas. In addition to getting the insert un-stuck, we hoped that they could remove, clean and grease the insert so that we wouldn’t have this problem in the future.
It turned out to be a massive undertaking. Luckily, Javier (the top mechanic) spoke great English, so we were able to explain the intricate problem to him, and what needed to be done to fix it. He’d never worked on an eccentric bottom bracket before, but he totally understood the problem and quickly set to work with an assistant to try to loosen the insert. It still wouldn’t budge.
The two of them must have worked for more than an hour before finally getting the insert out. They removed the bottom bracket then pounded on the insert with a whole range of tools, including an assortment of rubber mallets and rivers of WD-40. For a long time it looked like the insert would never come out. But the longer the mechanics worked, the more they seemed motivated to try even harder. Finally, using a massive Allen Key with a handle almost a meter long that provided lots of leverage for two bike mechanics pushing at the same time, the insert budged just a millimeter or so. That was all the encouragement they needed. Another 10 minutes of pounding and turning, and the insert finally came out.
As we expected, the stainless steel insert had corroded and fused with the steel frame, creating a chemical bond. Javier sanded off the rust, greased the insert, and slid it back into its casing - as smooth as butter. Everyone cheered.
However, then we hit another snag. When Javier tried to re-install the bottom bracket he discovered that the threading was damaged. As a result, one side of the bottom bracket wouldn’t screw back in. After trying heroically, but unsuccessfully, to put the bottom bracket back together, Javier told us he would have to get a friend with a special machine to fix the threads. Of course we were worried, since the bike shop did not have a replacement part that would fit our bikes.
But everything worked out in the end. By mid-afternoon the threads were repaired and the bike was ready for pickup. It was a huge relief. And if we’re lucky, we should be able to adjust PedalingGuy’s chain in the future without any problems.
Javier (on right), the top mechanic at Patagonia MTB Trails bike shop, used a bit of magic (and a lot of WD-40) to remove, clean and grease a badly-corroded part on one of our bikes. Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The Road Northward
We had originally planned to stay in Punta Arenas through New Year’s Eve. But when we saw that a good weather window had opened up, we cut short our stay and ventured out on our bicycles again on 29 December.
Departing Punta Arenas, we rode northward along the Strait of Magellan waterfront, past fields bursting with colorful spires of lupine flowers and occasional crowds of European rabbits (both invasive species, imported from Europe).
Christmas time seems to be the peak season for lupine flowers in southern Patagonia. We cycled past fields just bursting with color. Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Punta Arenas has a pretty big urban footprint. It took us over an hour to finally escape the urban sprawl. Traffic was pretty thick all the way to the edge, and unfortunately the road lanes were narrow, with no paved shoulder. We ended up cycling on the gravel margin until we finally reached more open country and the traffic abated.
This wool processing factory was one of many businesses that extended the city’s urban footprint for many miles to the north. It’s one of the biggest in Chile, cleaning and combing more than 3,000 tons of wool each year. It takes almost a million sheep to produce that much wool. Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The Punta Arenas Airport lies at the far, northern edge of town. The surrounding fields were dotted with a surprising number of these radar domes, suggesting the site is an important location for gathering weather and navigational data. North of Punta Arenas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Out on the pampas, we were struck by how many cyclists we encountered on their way southward. It seemed that we had entered the high season for cyclists hoping to end their journeys to Ushuaia in the pleasant summer weather. We stopped to visit with five of them, (from Germany, France and Austria), while a couple more rode past us with just a wave.
Felix and Michelle, two cyclists from Germany, stopped to visit with us on the side of the road. They had started their trip in Calgary, Alberta (Canada), and offered some tips for the road ahead. Chabunco Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Some of the best moments of the day came from wildlife sightings. In addition to lots of guanacos (we have seen thousands of them, by now), we finally saw some rheas! (Actually we saw lesser rheas. There are two species of rheas in South America.)
Rheas are the South American version of an ostrich. While they’re not quite as big as their African cousins, rheas are still the largest birds in South America and they’re quite impressive. They’re also very easy to see on the plains north of Punta Arenas. We saw at least a dozen large groups of them feeding in the grass, often near sheep or guanacos. We even were lucky enough to spot a few very young chicks running along behind their mothers.
A very young Lesser Rhea trotted through the grass behind its mother. South of Villa Tehuelches, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Our second great sighting for the day was South America’s other famously big bird, an Andean Condor. It is one of the largest flying birds in the world by wingspan (the rheas mentioned above - and related birds like ostriches - are larger, but flightless).
The German cyclists had given us a heads-up that there was a major condor roosting cliff to the west of our route, so we kept an eye on the sky hoping one of the birds would fly in our direction. And before long we caught sight of one, distant bird soaring through the sky. It was too far away for a good photo, but through binoculars it was easy to identify. It was clearly a very large bird, with big white patches on top of its massive wings and a generous, fluffy, white collar. That made us very happy. Seeing a condor was one of those life-long wishes that we’ve fulfilled on this trip.
Sadly, however, we did not see any Chilean flamingos. Although they are sometimes observed on lakes near the road we traveled, they are considered rare. All of the lakes that we passed where flamingos had previously been reported were populated, instead, by large herds of sheep.
We passed several big lakes, which were usually surrounded by large herds of sheep. South of Villa Tehuelches, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We had planned to camp along the road, a little over 40 miles (65 km) from Punta Arenas. However, when we arrived there it was just around 2pm (early to stop for a camp) and we were feeling strong. With only a little over 20 miles (32 km) to the next town, we decided to keep going.
It made for a pretty long day, especially since we had been off the bikes for quite a while. The final 15 miles (24 km) were the hardest because we were getting tired, and a headwind picked up, of course. We finally rolled into the very small town of Villa Tehuelches (pop. 170) around 6pm in the evening, ready for a rest.
The town was small enough that there were no formal accommodations. However, several people in town rented rooms in their homes - called hospedajes. In other countries the hospedajes we had seen tended to be more formal, and often were indistinguishable from small hotels. But in Patagonia, the hospedajes were genuinely like rooms being rented in someone’s house. We ended up getting a room in Irma’s house, which was a premium spot in town because it had a private bathroom (the other hospedajes only had shared bathrooms). Another bonus was that she let us store our bikes inside a small storage room near her kitchen. It was perfect.
Irma’s House, the hospedaje where we spent the night in Villa Tehuelches, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Unfortunately, it was a Sunday. So the only restaurant in town was closed. We ended up grabbing a couple of protein bars, ham & cheese sandwiches (which were mostly bread) and some drinks at the little snack kiosk along the main road.
We shared our picnic table with Garth, a rare cyclist from the USA, who was heading south. He had started his trip in Puerto Mont, Chile, and was nearing the end of his journey. We were particularly intrigued that, unlike most long-distance cyclists, he never camped and thus had to ride however long it took to reach the next town with a bed. That can be a pretty long distance in some places. But because he travels without a tent, sleeping bag or cooking gear, his bike is light. That makes it a bit faster, and thus easier to cover the many miles between towns. An interesting, and perhaps not such a bad strategy (if you don’t mind some extremely long cycling days). As if to confirm this, he looked very tired.
The Next Town Was Even Smaller…
Our next day’s ride started with a lovely breakfast prepared by Irma, our hospedaje host. Out on the road, our good luck continued. We had a tailwind! This was so rare for us in Patagonia that we noticed immediately. The wind is one of cyclists’ biggest concerns on the pampas. Tales of its overwhelming force are legendary, with almost everyone who cycles here having stories of being blown off the road or worse. Some deem the winds intolerable and give up completely - hopping on a bus or hitching a ride in a truck. With the rare tailwind, each pedal stroke was a gift as we were pushed along by the strong gusts. We started to envy all the cyclists traveling southward, who normally had these tailwinds.
Before long we caught sight of the area’s most prominent landmark on our left. Rising over 450 feet (135 m) from the surrounding plains, the Morro Chico really stood out. On the otherwise flat, grassy pampas, the steep-sided bluff could be seen from very far away, and has served as a navigational landmark for travelers throughout history. For us, it provided a welcome and scenic change in the landscape.
The Morro Chico rose strikingly from the otherwise flat grasslands of the Patagonian pampas, bringing some welcome diversity to the scenery along our route. North of Villa Tehuelches, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
With the wind at our backs, we arrived at the little restaurant at the foot of Morro Chico before 11am, ready for a midday break.
Inside the cafe three other cyclists were huddled around a table, looking at a map. They were from Italy, and were heading south towards Ushuaia. For most of their journey they had enjoyed tailwinds, but they were now having to contend with an unwelcome headwind. In response, they had decided to stop for the day, and spend the night at the restaurant (which also rented a few rooms). Their plan was to depart around 4am the next morning, hoping to cycle for several hours before the mid-morning headwinds picked up again. We gave them some insights on the road ahead, then settled in for a nice, relaxing meal.
At Morro Chico our route took a sharp, left turn that changed our nice tailwind into a pretty strong side wind. Our pace slowed somewhat, but not as much as we expected. An upside was that the more leisurely pace gave us the chance to stop more often and enjoy the scenery. A highlight was that we ended up seeing another Andean condor, much closer than the one from the day before. They’re so big that it was easy to spot them if we kept an eye on the sky. And they seemed to be in no hurry, which gave us a chance to get a really good look as they soared in slow circles overhead.
With summer in full swing, the Patagonian sheep farms were rounding up their herds for shearing the wool. At this ranch, we saw several sheep dogs herding the flock towards the shearing barns. East of Villa Renoval, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The banks of every small stream we passed were blanketed with colorful patches of lupine flowers. The lupines are not native to Patagonia. They were brought over by European settlers as garden plants, but escaped. Now they grow in thick clusters wherever there is enough water. East of Villa Renoval, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A herd of horses watched us carefully across a field of golden flowers. East of Villa Renoval, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Our second sighting of an Andean Condor was even more exciting than the first, because this one was much closer - allowing us to get a great look at this magnificent bird. East of Villa Renoval, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
One of the region’s most conspicuous and distinctive birds was the black-faced ibis. They’re particularly noisy for an ibis, with loud, honking calls that sound a lot like geese. They make such a racket that they can be as bad as roosters or barking dogs when they hang out near your campsite. East of Villa Renoval, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Around 3:30 in the afternoon we rolled into the very tiny village of Renoval (pop. 26). There’s not much infrastructure there, but it does have a cosy cafe that serves truckers and occasional minibuses transporting tourists between Punta Arenas and a national park to the north. We had heard that cyclists could ask at the cafe for permission to spend the night in an old, no-longer-used office building next door (for a small, voluntary donation).
It was a pretty rustic arrangement. The building didn’t have water, and some of the rooms didn’t have any light. But there was electric power in one of the rooms, and a space heater we could use to take away the chill. We had enough room to comfortably spread out our sleeping bags on the floor, plus we were able to use the clean, warm bathrooms and wifi at the cafe while they were still open. It was a great place to spend the night in a region that didn’t offer any other options.
Our ‘indoor campsite’ at the unused office space in Villa Renoval. We spent a warm, dry and comfortable night there, with permission from the Cafe El Leñador next door. The picture on the wall is a framed puzzle that someone must have spent hours putting together. Villa Renoval, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
New Year’s Eve Cycling
It wasn’t the most restful night. But we didn’t want to delay our departure because the wind would be lightest in the morning - which is much better for cycling. So we managed to rouse ourselves out of bed by 7:30am, and headed over to the cafe for breakfast at 8:30, when they were supposed to open.
Except they were still closed. We ended up waiting until nearly 9am for the cafe to open. Part of the problem was that the power had gone out during the night, and was still off. We were lucky that the cafe used a gas stove, so they still were able to cook up some eggs for us.
Unfortunately, all the delays meant that we didn’t get onto our bikes until around 9:30am, which was later than we would have liked. But we were happy to have had the chance to eat a good breakfast, which gave us an energy boost.
However, once we were on the road the real trouble began. Based on the weather forecast, we thought we would have a tailwind for most of the day. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the wind came from the front. Within an hour it was whipping along at 20-30 mph (30-50 kph). That slowed us down a lot. We were lucky that for the first 2.5 hrs our route trended mostly downhill, which partially offset the wind.
In the bottom of a broad valley we stopped to take photos of another, spectacular patch of lupine flowers. Moments later, a pickup truck stopped near us and a very cute couple got out to take some photos, too. That’s how we met Jack and Linda from San Francisco, California. They were very sweet and curious about our trip - wishing us a safe journey.
A dazzling patch of lupine flowers near Casas Viejas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Our new roadside friends, Jack and Linda. They also had stopped to photograph the flowers. Near Casas Viejas, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
But on the ascent out of the valley, our pace slowed to a crawl. After about two grueling miles (3.2 km) of climbing into the wind, we reached a bus shelter that is somewhat famous among cyclists. Built for guests at a nearby resort hotel, the shelter was quite posh, with 360 degree views through big glass windows, a functioning door, benches inside, and even a trash can.
A sign on the door said the shelter was only for the use of hotel guests, and that it was monitored by security cameras. That made us a little nervous. But it was so heavenly to have a spot to rest out of the wind that we took our chances and enjoyed a snack break inside. In the end, no one came by to hassle us. Ten minutes later we were back on our bikes, eager to reach our destination.
From the top of the big hill we had a screaming, rapid descent into Puerto Natales (pop. 19,200). As we approached the city, car traffic increased dramatically. The road was narrow without a shoulder, and many of the vehicles passed uncomfortably close to us when there was oncoming traffic. It didn’t take long before we were cycling on the gravel shoulder for safety, which slowed us down even more.
It was a relief to finally arrive at our hostal. Even with a few more hiccups (like not being able to find the proprietor for 45 min, delaying our check in), we eventually started to relax. To help make space so we could fit both our bikes inside the room we rented, the proprietor tipped up one of the three beds onto its side, and leaned it against the wall. After we maneuvered both bikes up a narrow staircase, we were finally settled in. Somehow we managed to clean ourselves up and find dinner. Even though it was New Year’s Eve, we were in bed before 10pm - too tired to stay up for the New Year.
It was a surprisingly quiet night for New Year’s Eve (or maybe we were just too tired to hear anything), because we didn’t hear the usual fireworks and celebration at midnight, and felt well rested the next morning.
Which Route North?
We spent the next couple of days puzzling over which route to take north. There were two main options, with additional, smaller variations. One route headed north on land, skirting the foothills of the Andes before dipping eastward into Argentina, and crossing back into Chile near the outdoorsy town of El Chaltén. This route is quite popular with cyclists heading southbound, because they have the wind at their backs. Heading northward, the headwinds can be brutal. In fact the winds are so fierce that they have been known to tip over vehicles. In order to prevent vehicle tipping, the police will sometimes close the road to vehicles. Many northbound cyclists end up giving up and taking buses through the more open grasslands. We prefer to avoid taking buses or hitching rides, so this was not appealing to us. The land route also involved three different ferries, and all their associated delays. To top it off, the weather forecast for this route was not good with stronger than normal winds expected.
The other route was one that was suggested by Garth, the cyclist we met in Villa Tehuelches. From Puerto Natales, it included a single, longer ferry ride up through the fjords of western Chile. This way had the advantage of avoiding some of the worst weather conditions heading northward, having to catch fewer ferries, offering gorgeous coastal scenery, and saving us the trouble of competing for over-priced, sub-standard lodging with hoards of other travelers in the touristy towns along the land route.
Both routes connected with the southern start of the Carretera Austal, the famous ‘Southern Highway’ that has become an internationally famous bicycle touring route (and which we planned to incorporate into our trip).
We made it to Puerto Natales (where PedalingGal is pointing), nearly 500 miles (800 km) from Ushuaia (labeled in big blue letters on the map). Now we had to decide which route to take as we continued northward. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We actually struggled with this choice a bit more than you might expect. But the final decision was sealed when we had breakfast one morning with an Italian cyclist who had just returned from biking a loop through Torres del Paine National Park to the north. Our desire to visit this national park was one of the reasons we were still considering taking the land route. However, when we asked him how the journey was, he snorted and said he would not do it again. The dirt road through the park was rough, and there was a ton of tourist traffic that sped by, throwing up clouds of dust. Plus, as expected, the wind was awful. He told us plainly that he thought it would be better to take a tour to the park than bike through it.
Not long after that we made up our minds to take the longer ferry. But when we started researching that option, we hit another snag. The ferry only ran once a week - and the next two ferries were fully booked. The soonest we could reserve a spot on the ferry was 16 January - 12 days away. That seemed like an awfully long wait.
We walked over to the ferry office on the waterfront to ask for advice. After a lengthy consultation with the receptionist we figured out that we could buy a ticket for a 16 January departure to hold our spot, but then attempt to travel standby on an earlier voyage. The receptionist implied that there were often spaces available for standby passengers at the last minute. That sounded great. We decided to buy the ticket for 16 January, and get on the waiting list for 10 January. That would give us time to visit Torres del Paine National Park before departure. Our plan was sealed.
Layover in Puerto Natales, Chile
Suddenly we had a bunch of time to explore Puerto Natales. The city sits on the shore of the Last Hope Sound, among the labyrinth of fjords that snake their way among the southern Andes. Although it is surrounded by steep-sided mountains, Puerto Natales itself occupies a relatively flat patch of land at the mouth of the Natales River.
They’ve built a waterfront promenade that offers a pleasant stroll along the shores of the Sound. Nearly every day we walked there. In the distance we could see snow-capped peaks and glaciers that were part of the great Southern Patagonian Ice Field (outside of the poles, only the Greenland Ice Field is bigger). The waters of the Sound always had a few scattered boats at anchor, including both well-kept sailboats and ancient, rust-bucket fishing boats.
A view across Last Hope Sound, with two black-necked swans in the foreground. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Chimango caracaras - a small, scavenging raptor that behaves a lot like a crow - were common and quite tame. We would often seen them perched on street signs, surveying their surroundings. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Among the works of art along the city’s waterfront, the Monument to the Wind is probably the most unique - with two figures soaring high above the water. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
One of several glaciers that loomed over the far side of Last Hope Sound. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
South of town was the Fishermen’s Boatyard, where hundreds of small fishing boats were dry-docked. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Right next to the boatyard was the Artisanal Fishermen’s Pier, where another huge number of colorful little boats were crowded close together. Apparently they have plans to dredge a larger safe harbor for the fishing boats, but until then they will snuggle together near the pier. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
One of The ‘rust bucket’ old fishing boats out in the water. You’d have to be pretty brave to go out to sea in that one. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A view of the Southern Patagonia Ice Field under a stormy sky. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Roz and Jeff were two other cyclists (from Canada) that we met along the waterfront. They were riding a tandem (bicycle built for two) with the sign, ‘Grandparents on Board’ (in Spanish) on the back. They were also planning to take the ferry, but would be on the one a week before us. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Touring Torres del Paine National Park
During our stay in Puerto Natales, one of our top priorities was to visit Torres del Paine National Park. Dominated by the iconic mountain spires of the Paine Massif, the park is one of the largest and most heavily visited natural areas in Chile. Although it’s easy to see photos of these spectacular mountains online, the allure of seeing them in person was irresistible. And since we were no longer going to ride our bicycles through the park, we decided to take a tour.
Booking our tour at the last minute, in the high season, presented some challenges. Notably, all of the tours led by better-known companies were full. As a result, we ended up booking with a small company. But that turned out really well. In addition to us, the tour included just one other, incredibly sweet couple from Mexico City. Both our guide, Javier, and the couple from Mexico spoke fluent English, which made the tour much easier and more informative for us. Javier also was very knowledgeable and friendly, setting the stage for a wonderful day.
It would be impossible to list every sight we saw along our big loop through the park. But here are some of the highlights:
In the grasslands on the north side of the park, we saw lots more guanacos. The high concentration of guanacos there is one reason why the area around Torres del Paine NP has one of the highest concentrations of pumas (the guanaco’s main predator) in the world. Near Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
An adorable group of young guanacos. Near Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We stopped at an office of the national park to pay the very hefty entrance fee (US$35/person for foreigners, which is 3.5 times the fee for Chilean citizens). Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Stormy clouds obscured the tops of the towers that give Torres del Paine National Park its name (center right). But they were spectacular, nonetheless. Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Throughout the park we saw tons of the famous Calafate berries, which grow profusely throughout western Patagonia. These sweet berries are hugely popular as the main ingredient in a variety of treats including pastries, jams, candies, syrup, ice cream, and even a cocktail called the Calafate Sour. But the mystique of the berries arises from one of Chile’s most often-repeated legends: that anyone who eats a Calafate berry will return to Patagonia someday. I guess we’ll be back! Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A waterfall along the Río Paine, which connects several of the park’s big, glacial lakes (with the Torres del Paine towers in the background). Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Ta da! Some of the most impressive mountains in the park are called the Horns of Paine. Rising over 8,000 ft (2,450 m), they’re among the taller peaks. But what makes them stand out is their dramatic, glacially-sculpted shapes, and the contrasting colors of a pale granite base topped by dark sedimentary rock which resembles a shadow in the photo. Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
An Andean Condor sailed in slow circles over a distant, alpine ice field. Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The Hotel Pehoe occupies a privileged position on a small island in Lake Pehoe, with spectacular views of the Horns of Paine. Originally built as a fishing lodge, the hotel can only be accessed via a foot bridge from the mainland. Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Beautiful, granite pinnacles. Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We had the chance to hike out to Gray Lake, which flows out of the Gray Glacier. Although we didn’t get close to the glacier itself, we saw icebergs that had calved off of the glacier floating across the lake. Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A view from a hilltop towards Gray Glacier and the Southern Patagonian Ice Field. Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
As we departed the park to the south, we had an awesome view of the Paine Massif across the Serrano River Valley. Near Torres del Paine National Park, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Hungry after a long day of touring, we ordered one of the big grilled meat platters for two as our dinner. For dramatic effect, the pile of meat cuts was served over hot coals. It was a huge meal, and we couldn’t finish it all. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Waiting and Wondering if We Could Board the Ferry
Getting onto the ferry to Caleta Tortél, Chile, was not particularly easy for us. As mentioned above, we wanted to go ‘standby’ on the ferry that was scheduled for 10 January. However, the standby process for the ferry was not particularly rigorous, and required multiple steps on our part.
The first hurdle was to secure an early number on the waiting list. That required showing up at the ferry office before they opened at 8am on 10 January - even though the ferry was not scheduled to board for another 12 hours. So we dragged ourselves out of bed before 7am, ate a quick breakfast, and arrived at the ferry office around 7:40am.
To our surprise, the ferry office was already open, and another couple was already inside ahead of us. They had a car, and also were hoping to board this ferry on standby. They ended up getting spots #1 and #2 on the waiting list (which we had hoped for), and we had to settle for spots #3 and #4. After confirming that our position was secure, we headed back to the hotel. We wouldn’t need to be back until around boarding time.
After packing up all of our things in hopes of departing, we headed back to the ferry office at 6pm. Other passengers were already starting to arrive, and there were several additional folks now waiting with us for standby slots, including a guy traveling by motorcycle and a couple of backpackers. That’s where we met Friedrich, a German who had been living in Brazil for the last 10 years. He had ridden his motorcycle down from Brazil, through Argentina, and wanted to take the ferry back north.
The Crux Australis ferry, at the dock just prior to being loaded with cars. Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
In the end we had to wait all the way until 8pm - after nearly all of the other passengers had boarded the ferry - before finding out our fate. But the news was good! Finally we were called up to the counter and issued new tickets, allowing us to board the ferry. We were elated that we would not have to wait another week for the next ferry. (In fact, all of the folks on the waiting list made it on board, which was fantastic.)
All of the cars had already been loaded onto the ferry, so we had to squeeze past them. We ended up lashing the bikes to one of the metal staircases that led to a big shipping container, which was used to store passengers’ extra luggage and supplies for remote towns. We were intrigued to see that there already were three other touring bikes parked there. Later we learned that they belonged to a group of cyclists from Argentina.
Our bikes can be seen lashed to a metal staircase, sandwiched between some cars on the ferry. Crux Australis Ferry, Puerto Natales, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
After that it took some time to finally get things sorted out with the ship’s crew. It became painfully obvious that the crew did not receive any information from the office staff about our boarding. Their list still had the names of the original passengers who had been assigned to our seats, not our names. This created quite a lot of confusion, as the crew members checked, double-checked, and triple-checked to make sure that they knew who we were and where we belonged. Eventually, everything got sorted out and we were allowed to go occupy our seats.
Once we had settled in, we jumped on the task of trying to secure a hotel room in Caleta Tortél for our arrival. Since we hadn’t been sure we would get on the boat, we hadn’t finalized any plans. Now the race was on to try to nail down a reservation via the cellular network before we left the port (there was no wifi on board). We managed to get out a few inquiries for rooms via WhatsApp, but received no positive responses before the boat left the dock - and all access to the internet - the next morning.
Rough Seas on the Ferry to Tortél
One of the oddest things about the Crux Australis ferry is that, even though the ferry sets sail around 8am in the morning, all passengers are REQUIRED to board 12 hours earlier, the night before departure, and spend that night on the boat while the ferry sits in the harbor. This is doubly odd because there are no cabins. All passengers spend their time in an assigned seat which is a lot like a seat on an inter-city bus, and that only reclines about 60 degrees. While it’s better than an airplane seat in coach class, it’s not exactly comfortable for sleeping. At least each row had only two seats, so we didn’t have anyone right next to us. But we didn’t have any restful nights.
We spent three nights on the ferry, arriving in Caleta Tortél around 8am on the third day. All meals were included, but the galley only accommodated about 40 people at a time. So the passengers had to eat meals in four, 20 minute shifts, called by row number.
Since the galley tables seated four people we met some nice folks during our meals, including several Chilean families that were traveling around the country on holiday and a couple from Vancouver, Canada, who had cycled down the Carretera Austral, and were heading back north via ferry before flying home. The Canadians had cycled throughout North America and Europe, but mostly on trips that lasted just a couple of months. They were very interested in how we managed to be gone from home for so long (at this point we’d been on the road for 2.5 years).
The weather was quite pleasant the morning of our departure. But by mid-day a big storm blew in that lasted through the afternoon of the second day. For much of that time, fog and rain obscured all the views of the fjords. When the boat traveled through the wider channels, it was rocked and splashed by some pretty big waves. We were comfortable enough inside the cabin, but unfortunately some of the waves splashed over the side of the boat, and repeatedly doused our bikes with salt water (mixed with a bit of grease from the ship). On the bright side, the heavy rain probably helped to wash off some of the salt. But our panniers were speckled with a few, permanent black spots from the grease.
By the afternoon of the second day, the weather finally began to clear, and we could enjoy the scenery more. Here are some photos from the journey through the fjords:
An observation deck provided views of the surrounding landscape, and of the vehicles parked below. Crux Australis Ferry, Paso Moria Vicuña, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The fjords of southern Chile. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A porthole in one of the double doors that protected us from the elements. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Although it was a multi-day trip, the ferry had no cabins. Instead, all passengers were assigned a reclining seat on the second level (above the galley and engine rooms). Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The weather was fairly stormy for most of the trip. We spent a lot of time in our seats, enjoying the view from our window. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A view out onto the rainy deck. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
With all of the rain, water flowed down the mountainsides in hundreds of frothy rivers and waterfalls. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Along the way to Tortél we made a stop in Puerto Edén (pop. 176), a tiny village that is only accessible by boat. We were allowed to disembark for about half an hour while supplies for town were unloaded. The dock was piled high with wooden logs, one of the main exports from the area. Puerto Edén, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Colorful fishing boats tied up at the dock where they received supplies from the ferry (including the brand new sleeping mattress on the Atun boat). Puerto Edén, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
As we departed Puerto Edén an intense, glowing, double rainbow appeared low across the water in the dim light. The lower rainbow was one of the brightest and most intense we have ever seen. In fact, we saw 8-10 rainbows on that voyage. Maybe they should rename the boat the Arcoíris (rainbow in Spanish). Near Puerto Edén, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Taking in some fresh air on the boat’s deck. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Bird life was relatively scarce on much of the trip, but we did spot a few ocean species including this black-browed albatross. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The fjords of southern Chile. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Arrival in Caleta Tortél
After three nights of fitful sleep in what were essentially reclining bus seats, we were very ready to arrive at our destination. In the dim, early morning light, we joined other travelers in packing up our things.
It was a brisk, but fair-weather morning so we went out on the deck of the ferry to watch our approach to the little village in the cove.
Early morning light as we approached Caleta Tortél on the final day. Crux Australis Ferry, Magallanes, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
View of the village as our ferry approached. The big structure in the center is the municipal government building, made from local wood (as were most of the buildings in town). Along the water’s edge, we could see one of the village’s famous boardwalks. Essentially, they have no typical sidewalks or streets. The town can only be visited on foot, by walking along the 5 miles of wooden boardwalks. Besides the ferry, the village can only be reached by one road that stops at the far end of town, at the top of a steep cliffside with 20 stories of stairs. Caleta Tortél, Aysén, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Looking back at the ferry from a nearby hill. No cars or trucks were allowed to get off at this stop since there was no road, only stairs that climbed the steep cliffside that splits the lower and upper portions of town. Caleta Tortél, Aysén, Chile. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
That’s when we finally got a cellular signal… and received the bad news. The hotel where we had confirmed a reservation (during our short port call at Puerto Edén) had written to inform us that a previous guest had decided to stay an extra day, therefore we no longer had a room.
That was not good because Caleta Tortél, like many villages in South America, doesn’t have any big hotels. All of the accommodations are family-run rooms or cabins for rent. They are not listed in any online booking services, so information about what they offer is spotty, at best. Furthermore, it is nearly impossible to know if they have availability without contacting them directly. As a result, finding a place to stay can be time consuming - especially at the last minute, when many of the places will already have bookings for their one or two rooms. Thus, we had a major task ahead of us.
PedalingGuy waited with the bikes near the dock, while PedalingGal spent the next four hours trying to find a suitable place to stay. In addition to having to visit individual accommodations personally to check them out, her progress was slowed by the fact that Caleta Tortél is a very vertical town. Nearly all of the accommodations were up steep flights of stairs, on the precipitous hills that line the cove. Gamely, she trudged up and down the rickety stairways, knocking on doors, and looking at the few rooms that were available.
Maddeningly, we even lost another cabin. The owner at first had told us it was available… But by the time we returned with our bikes the current guest had decided to extend their stay another night! We were bumped again.
In the end we found a cabin way up on a hillside, that was only available for one night. We hauled both fully loaded bikes up the cliffside, climbing more than 200 wooden stairs (or about 20 stories) to a tiny cabin that we barely fit into. Once inside, PedalingGuy lit a fire in the wood stove and we opened all our panniers to begin the process of drying out (our bikes had been soaked for days by the storm on the ferry). At least we had somewhere to stay.
A lovely dinner that evening helped to brighten our otherwise dark mood. The woman who served us was wonderfully kind, and the food was delicious - especially since it was the first real meal we had all day. We felt even better after a fantastic, warm shower - the first we had in three days. As a steady rain fell outside, we stayed warm and comfortable with the wood fire. Perhaps Caleta Tortél would be a nice place to visit after all. It certainly is unique. More on Tortél in our next blog post.
