Carretera Austral Day #2 Lenca to Hornopirén
December 28, 2019
Lenca to Hornopirén
69.22 Km
Ride Time: 9:15:06
Pedal Time: 6:14:09
Tour Total 115.85 Km xx
We awoke to the loud squawking of birds at 8am. Our tents were in the shade and everything was soaked from condensation.
We had gone to bed at 2am the night before. The stealth camping spot was located through iOverlander. We were about 100’ from the Pacific. The gulf water here was calm. There were beached wooden boats strewn along the coastline.
Dogs had barked in the distance as we were setting up last night. Scott thought he heard hyenas.
It was a slow morning pack up. We set our soggy gear in the sun to dry. Scott worked on his front derailer.
A nice couple who had been camping nearby in a painted Batman van offered us staple provisions. We were fully loaded with such and declined.
We had a 10:30am start. I had forgotten to bring my gloves into the tent and they were soaking wet.
Out in the road I passed hydrangea bushes and numerous other flowers in bloom. In addition to dogs, I saw cows and sheep.
There were steep jagged mountains to the east and a calm turquoise sea to the west as I pedaled south along the coast.
Waterfalls poured from rock cuts to the left of the road. I passed a small hydroelectric plant. Gurgling water rushed everywhere around me.
We entered the small town of Caleta La Arena where we went to a restaurant. I ordered a cappuccino and two seafood empanadas. I asked if I could use an outlet to recharge my devices and was told that I had the wrong kind of plug. I knew that Chile had 220 voltage at 50 hertz, but I didn’t realize they used a European rounded prong. Shit! This was an oversight. I was going to have to really watch my power consumption until I could get an adapter. It’s extremely rural here and small businesses are mostly run out of people’s homes. The stores offer mostly local produce.
The restaurant was adjacent to the ferry and vehicles were queued out front. There was a guy touring on a motorcycle and I noticed they were boarding. We grabbed our cappuccinos and empanadas and jumped on our bikes. I rode right onto the ferry with my empanada in hand. There was no charge. It was a small ferry with 3 columns of vehicles exposed to the elements. We stood with our bikes leaning against the side railing.
I realized that my front wheel hub hadn’t been properly tightened since probably the airport. Crazy scary.
As we left the ferry and pedaled up the hill we were asked to pay the fare. It wasn’t free after all.
We stopped at a small store/ kitchen/ somebody’s home for water. Scott worked on his front derailer while I edited yesterday‘s post.
I got a complaint from an idiot reader from Crazy Guy about a discrepancy on my Northern Tier blog. Get a life.
I was surrounded by breathtaking views of snow capped mountains. There were two southbound fully packed cyclists right behind me. I did a lot of climbing. There were steep uphills and I was fortunate to be riding on a new asphalt surface.
And then the gravel began. The surface became deeply rutted and it was bumpy as hell! I felt like a bronco rider at the rodeo. Yee haw!
I was glad to have 1.75” tires instead of the thinner stock that I’m accustomed to. The low inflation now cushioned my ride. My equipment was getting seriously rattled and I was concerned about screws coming loose. I wondered if there were other parts that I hadn’t properly tightened. I turned around and saw Scott walking his bike up a severely rutted hill.
Fresh brand new asphalt returned and it was as smooth as butter.
And then the gravel returned. I found myself dodging huge craters. Sometimes I went straight through them. It felt as if my fillings were rattling loose.
I was surrounded by roaring streams. I passed numerous beehives for honey production. A beekeeper that stood out lived in a spherical Buckminster Fuller type structure.
For most of the day I wore my short sleeve jersey and riding shorts. I had started the morning in my sweater. The air was cool but the sun was strong. I had doused myself with sunscreen on the ferry.
The climbing was intense and I had gotten way ahead of Scott. I was starving and started thinking about the trail mix in my rear pannier. Highway 7 cut across a stubby peninsula and knew there was a small town once I rejoined the coast. I couldn’t take my hunger pangs anymore, and it had been over an hour since I‘d last seen Scott. I pulled over in the shade of a tree. The freshly laid gravel chunks were uncomfortable to sit on so I grabbed a portable traffic marker that the road crew had placed nearby to sit on. I ate the whole bag of trail mix and waited for Scott.
I met southbound cyclist Mateos from Brazil who assured me that Scott was coming. He made fun of Scott’s skinny tires and I told him that I had the same kind.
Scott finally caught up and we cycled a few more kilometers to Hualaihué were we found a small restaurant that served me three salmon empanadas and two sodas. I was disappointed they didn’t serve beer.
An annoying little girl bothered us while we waited for our empanadas. She was climbing all over the outdoor structure, her feet dancing on our table. Hearing my complaints, Scott later exclaimed that at least she didn’t grab your beard. Both of us were tired. We had done a lot of climbing today, and we were still behind on our sleep.
A pair of south bound cyclists rolled into town as we were leaving. We had another 18 km to Hornopirén.

I filled up my water bottles from spring water pouring out of a rock on the side of the road.
There were leaves sprouting out of the ground that were as big as me. Massive snow covered mountains were to the east, probably in Argentina.
Our first order of business in Hornopirén was arranging a ferry. We rode to the ramp and asked at the coffee shop. There was a ferry leaving at 12:30am and another tomorrow at 10:30am. It was 8pm and we were both tired. The prospect of sleeping on a ferry wasn’t appealing so we opted for a campground. We rode back to Camping El Tagano where I showered with seldom yet so satisfying hot water, bringing myself back to level 1. It was nice to be wearing clean underwear, socks, and be out of my cycling clothing which I washed and hung on a line.
The campsite proprietor recommended Entre Montañas restaurant, which was just past the Copec station. All directions in Hornopirén involve the Copec station.
Entre Montañas had a huge fire pit which they were using to grill meat. They also had WiFi. I ordered grilled salmon with shrimp on a bed of vegetables along with four Cerveza Austral pale ales. It was a great well-deserved meal. At one point the power briefly went out. A thin orange crescent moon hung low on the horizon.
After dinner we rode back to the ferry office, which had reopened at 9pm. We had gotten conflicting information, and were now told that tomorrow’s 10:30am ferry was full. We got ourselves on the waiting list and were assured that we’d be able to board in the morning.
I picked up two cans of beer and rode back to campground. I finished yesterday’s report before turning in. The stars overhead were brilliant.
Lenca to Hornopirén
69.22 Km
Ride Time: 9:15:06
Pedal Time: 6:14:09
Tour Total 115.85 Km xx
We awoke to the loud squawking of birds at 8am. Our tents were in the shade and everything was soaked from condensation.
We had gone to bed at 2am the night before. The stealth camping spot was located through iOverlander. We were about 100’ from the Pacific. The gulf water here was calm. There were beached wooden boats strewn along the coastline.
Dogs had barked in the distance as we were setting up last night. Scott thought he heard hyenas.
It was a slow morning pack up. We set our soggy gear in the sun to dry. Scott worked on his front derailer.
A nice couple who had been camping nearby in a painted Batman van offered us staple provisions. We were fully loaded with such and declined.
We had a 10:30am start. I had forgotten to bring my gloves into the tent and they were soaking wet.
Out in the road I passed hydrangea bushes and numerous other flowers in bloom. In addition to dogs, I saw cows and sheep.
There were steep jagged mountains to the east and a calm turquoise sea to the west as I pedaled south along the coast.
Waterfalls poured from rock cuts to the left of the road. I passed a small hydroelectric plant. Gurgling water rushed everywhere around me.
We entered the small town of Caleta La Arena where we went to a restaurant. I ordered a cappuccino and two seafood empanadas. I asked if I could use an outlet to recharge my devices and was told that I had the wrong kind of plug. I knew that Chile had 220 voltage at 50 hertz, but I didn’t realize they used a European rounded prong. Shit! This was an oversight. I was going to have to really watch my power consumption until I could get an adapter. It’s extremely rural here and small businesses are mostly run out of people’s homes. The stores offer mostly local produce.
The restaurant was adjacent to the ferry and vehicles were queued out front. There was a guy touring on a motorcycle and I noticed they were boarding. We grabbed our cappuccinos and empanadas and jumped on our bikes. I rode right onto the ferry with my empanada in hand. There was no charge. It was a small ferry with 3 columns of vehicles exposed to the elements. We stood with our bikes leaning against the side railing.
I realized that my front wheel hub hadn’t been properly tightened since probably the airport. Crazy scary.
As we left the ferry and pedaled up the hill we were asked to pay the fare. It wasn’t free after all.
We stopped at a small store/ kitchen/ somebody’s home for water. Scott worked on his front derailer while I edited yesterday‘s post.
I got a complaint from an idiot reader from Crazy Guy about a discrepancy on my Northern Tier blog. Get a life.
I was surrounded by breathtaking views of snow capped mountains. There were two southbound fully packed cyclists right behind me. I did a lot of climbing. There were steep uphills and I was fortunate to be riding on a new asphalt surface.
And then the gravel began. The surface became deeply rutted and it was bumpy as hell! I felt like a bronco rider at the rodeo. Yee haw!
I was glad to have 1.75” tires instead of the thinner stock that I’m accustomed to. The low inflation now cushioned my ride. My equipment was getting seriously rattled and I was concerned about screws coming loose. I wondered if there were other parts that I hadn’t properly tightened. I turned around and saw Scott walking his bike up a severely rutted hill.
Fresh brand new asphalt returned and it was as smooth as butter.
And then the gravel returned. I found myself dodging huge craters. Sometimes I went straight through them. It felt as if my fillings were rattling loose.
I was surrounded by roaring streams. I passed numerous beehives for honey production. A beekeeper that stood out lived in a spherical Buckminster Fuller type structure.
For most of the day I wore my short sleeve jersey and riding shorts. I had started the morning in my sweater. The air was cool but the sun was strong. I had doused myself with sunscreen on the ferry.
The climbing was intense and I had gotten way ahead of Scott. I was starving and started thinking about the trail mix in my rear pannier. Highway 7 cut across a stubby peninsula and knew there was a small town once I rejoined the coast. I couldn’t take my hunger pangs anymore, and it had been over an hour since I‘d last seen Scott. I pulled over in the shade of a tree. The freshly laid gravel chunks were uncomfortable to sit on so I grabbed a portable traffic marker that the road crew had placed nearby to sit on. I ate the whole bag of trail mix and waited for Scott.
I met southbound cyclist Mateos from Brazil who assured me that Scott was coming. He made fun of Scott’s skinny tires and I told him that I had the same kind.
Scott finally caught up and we cycled a few more kilometers to Hualaihué were we found a small restaurant that served me three salmon empanadas and two sodas. I was disappointed they didn’t serve beer.
An annoying little girl bothered us while we waited for our empanadas. She was climbing all over the outdoor structure, her feet dancing on our table. Hearing my complaints, Scott later exclaimed that at least she didn’t grab your beard. Both of us were tired. We had done a lot of climbing today, and we were still behind on our sleep.
A pair of south bound cyclists rolled into town as we were leaving. We had another 18 km to Hornopirén.

I filled up my water bottles from spring water pouring out of a rock on the side of the road.
There were leaves sprouting out of the ground that were as big as me. Massive snow covered mountains were to the east, probably in Argentina.
Our first order of business in Hornopirén was arranging a ferry. We rode to the ramp and asked at the coffee shop. There was a ferry leaving at 12:30am and another tomorrow at 10:30am. It was 8pm and we were both tired. The prospect of sleeping on a ferry wasn’t appealing so we opted for a campground. We rode back to Camping El Tagano where I showered with seldom yet so satisfying hot water, bringing myself back to level 1. It was nice to be wearing clean underwear, socks, and be out of my cycling clothing which I washed and hung on a line.
The campsite proprietor recommended Entre Montañas restaurant, which was just past the Copec station. All directions in Hornopirén involve the Copec station.
Entre Montañas had a huge fire pit which they were using to grill meat. They also had WiFi. I ordered grilled salmon with shrimp on a bed of vegetables along with four Cerveza Austral pale ales. It was a great well-deserved meal. At one point the power briefly went out. A thin orange crescent moon hung low on the horizon.
After dinner we rode back to the ferry office, which had reopened at 9pm. We had gotten conflicting information, and were now told that tomorrow’s 10:30am ferry was full. We got ourselves on the waiting list and were assured that we’d be able to board in the morning.
I picked up two cans of beer and rode back to campground. I finished yesterday’s report before turning in. The stars overhead were brilliant.
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