Day 11: 12.04.2017
Puerto Natales to Cerro Sombrero (The Hill of the Hat)
350 km (But we are warned that fuel will be very tight and that careful riding is needed – I am on a GS Adventure with a bigger tank, so no problems for me, but ET will have to be careful)
We are warned upfront that the night stop at Cerro Sombrero is a dump but that there are no other choices along the route. This is mainly because we are now finally reaching Tierra del Fuego (The land of Fires – so named by the early Spanish settlers due to all the fires lit by the then Indian inhabitants).
We will also cross the famous Magellan Straights – by ferry, this time hopefully a RoRo – so we can ride on and then ride off forwards never having to turn around, unlike the ferry at Puyuhapai which required a turn around either before boarding or once on board.
It is a miserable riding day, lots of wind and cold, but not freezing. We have also been warned that the first fuel stop may not be open and when we get there the warnings are accurate. It is desolate and deserted with the pumps locked and clearly not dispensing the juice we need. So, it is on to the next possible fuel supply, at a refinery en-route, but quite a bit further on.
As we head South the going gets progressively more unpleasant with the wind increasing and Patagonia baring its fangs, working on repelling the “gringos”! The gringo’s press on, through the deserted village of San Gregorio and soon we get to the ferry station at the Magellan straights. I am a bit tardy and ET has negotiated with the Ferry Master that we can make the ferry we see in front of us. I cannot make it and in any event, we both need a coffee and something in our tummies.
An eye opener was the clearly marked “minefield” on our right in the area between the road and the sea. A reminder that all was not well between Argentina and Chile in the 1970’s. Digging a bit deeper I find out that this has to do with a tussle over the land in Tierra del Fuego and what belongs to whom. This is a recurring theme in Argentina and resulted in the Falklands war. The Falklands, known as the Ilas Malvinas in Argentina are claimed by Argentina as their own and they still have difficulty in accepting the outcome of a vote held in the last ten years, in which the inhabitants of the islands, voted by an overwhelming majority, to remain British. More difficult to accept, I think, is the fact that a small island nation led by a woman, some 9,000 kms away, managed to comprehensively defeat the mighty Argentinian army. In truth the dominance of the army over all aspects of Argentinian life was shattered as a result of the war and the incompetence of a heavily shielded officer class exposed for the incompetence it had developed in isolation from reality. The suffering was mainly restricted to young national service conscripts who were poorly led, poorly clothed in bitterly cold conditions and underfed. In many cases the professional British paratroopers, hard off regular conflicts, took pity on these youngsters, preferring not to shoot them.
Apparently in the war, Chile stationed radar in the south and fed information to the English about aircraft taking off from their bases to attack the boats and troops in the islands, much to the ire of the Argentinians, understandably!
So into the ferry terminal we go, out of the wind and cold, for one of the least memorable meals on my life topped by a pretty shitty coffee as well. At least the toilets were clean.
Our ferry arrives. The trucks and cars are off through a short bit of sea. No flat ramps a la Norway here and for sure we are going to get wet. The challenge will be the steel ramp which is sure to be very slippery when wet. There is also an added challenge in the form of a small additional ramp in place for the buses which have a wider wheel base. SO we will need to negotiate this as it is not going to be removed.
Exiting the Magellan straight ferry – fighting the oil service vehicles. The big unit in front of me left hand side, is a fracking rig.
That is me in the dayglo yellow – so that ET can see me in front of him and follow. We are called for and on we go, head up and open up it is. Straight to the right hand side. No tie downs or securing blocks as one has in Canada or Norway. After all this is Patagonia. Land of the tough not some first world “nanny state”. We share the ferry with mainly large commercial trucks, all from names very familiar to me, Schlumberger, Weatherford, Halliburton. Oil Field Service companies and the equipment is for “fracking”. This gives us a hint as the territory we are entering. It is “oil country”, much like Alberta and the Yukon in Canada. I expect to see the “donkeys” shortly. This are the Don Quixote like oil pumps, and I am not disappointed as the first one appears shortly after setting off from the ferry station. This is cold, godless and windy countryside mainly inhabited by shepherds and tough oil field workers.
ET and I forge on through this barren countryside, finally starting to see some signs of life in the form of depots for the oil service companies. Then an airfield, although given the strength of the wind I wonder how any light aircraft (This includes executive jets and turboprops) can land here if the wind is not blowing directly down the runway. In addition taxing must be virtually impossible for small Cessna’s and Beech aircraft. My Aviat Husky would have been blown away and it reminds me of a day I nearly wiped out at Moreson on my home airfield, with a wind of similar speeds.
Cerro Sombrero is a short distance off the main road south and we peel off, stopping by the gas station to fill up. I have learnt over the years of riding in remote locations to always fill up before hunkering down for the night. In the morning you never know if there is going to be fuel and it is better to have an afternoon and evening to search for it. There is no problem here and soon we are at the Hotel.
The Hosteria Tunkelen is no-one’s idea of a dream honeymoon destination, but we are delighted to be out of the wind. There is no electricity in reception and ET has to assist the receptionist to reboot her computer. The beer is cold and delicious, nevertheless I limit myself to half a glass. ET is thirstier.
We chuck our stuff in our rooms which are functional and clean, but more importantly warm. We drift down to the small dingy reception area. This is similar to a lot of small South African country hotels of days gone by. There are interesting pictures of the early Indian inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego. They look very similar to Eskimo’s and the First Tribes of Northern Canada. Tall proud people with displays of successful fishing and hunting. This is also interesting as with the exception of the llama like guanaco’s, an armadillo (once) and the very occasional fox we do not see any wildlife at all. Compared with Africa where as a minimum one sees buck and other antelope everywhere, this is disappointing. Clearly it has all been hunted out, starting with the Spanish colonists and then by the South American’s themselves. This is mainly sheep country and the flocks are enormous even by Karoo standards. Patagonian lamb is also famous but I am not convinced it is as good as Karoo lamb. It misses the taste that is infused from the herbs in the veld and Patagonia does not seem to have the same abundance of scrub but rather only windswept grassland.
A bigger surprise is to follow. Dinner is at the hotel. We are dreading a hotel dining room dinner here but there are no alternatives. However in the same way that the Estanza Angostura had setup to handle groups of backpackers, motorcyclists and the like, so to had this establishment. Their dining room was very nice. They had a good menu and an excellent wine list. We have a great evening with a very social communal meal. The restaurant is busy and the owner runs a tight ship with tremendous personal involvement. I love seeing these entrepreneurial people creating businesses and making money in crappy places. I am left reflecting on what a big money and job generator tourism is. In South Africa we have so many advantages, particularly in respect of European based travellers, most of which are being squandered by red tape and deep-rooted corruption.
Once again bed is most welcome. We have our second biggest day tomorrow. ET and I have already decided we are not taking the mainly dirt option, there is enough dirt riding on the mainly tar option to keep us happy and in any event the additional distance does not warrant the dirt choice. Not with this wind. Our destination is Ushuaia, the most Southerly city in the world and one of the gateways to Antarctica. Already our English riding friends, Andy and Emma have dropped their bikes in Punta Arenas (our end point in four days time, as well), they have been picked up by the support vehicle and driven enroute to meet us in Cerro Sombrero. They will not ride again as they are booked on an Antarctic cruise leaving from Ushuaia. They will be staying with us in Ushuaia.
So sportsfans, good night and good luck.
The next episode will deal with riding to Ushuaia, the world class bakery in the middle of nowhere on the way. ET being a “dog magnet” in the town after we we stop in to have lunch and then the ride from Ushuaia to “Fin del Mondo” – “The End of the World”.
©Biker Pilot 2017
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