u Chile is smiling, curious, beautiful to die for and the only limit is the time you have to visit it. This has been our problem.
such strong and intense feelings that they almost frighten you for their purity. I have a romantic vision of life and the bike represents my place in the world, the dimension in which I feel most at ease, even on a saddle and with all the related pains. When I'm cycling, everything seems much clearer. It is truly the perfect combination, snow and bike, respectfully carefree and wisdom. Joys and sorrows. Meters and kilometers. Powder. We venture into the deafening silence of the Carettera. While we were organizing the trip, I immediately gave up the idea of using a tent. I know from experience that after 8/9 hours of cycling, resting is the most important thing. But even this turns out to be a mistake, in winter Patagonia is dormant and it is difficult to find where to sleep and eat. Our kilometers increase as we drag ourselves between a pueblo and the other in search of refreshment. I can't say it was easy, the wind of Patagonia is so strong that it makes the north wind looks like a normal thing in comparison. The rain has slowed everything down and the dirt roads never seemed to end. The important differences in height had unintentionally improved our physical and above all our mental form, because when the legs were screaming a few meters from the end of the climb the head silenced them with a simple: “don't worry, it will be worth it”. And it was true, to every drop of sweat corresponded a visual spectacle directly proportional to the effort just made.
Every centimeter traveled has filled our eyes with crazy scenarios: from the lakes to the snow-covered glaciers, from the volcanoes to the frost fields of Patagonia, from the cities to the Pampas, from condors to seals passing through alpacas. And finally people, so lovable that they always greeted you with a simple horn beep. Chile is smiling, curious, beautiful to die for and the only limit is the time you have to visit it. This has been our problem. The goal was not reached, we were not able to cross the whole Carettera Austral, and now, with a cool head, I think that after all it was a consequence of what we felt inside, bewitched by all that nature in perfect harmony with the earth that the host it, we hoped our journey would never end. In short, a "must return” written between the lines. The reality is unfortunately another: our time available is over and we have to find a way back to the north, at home my family is ready to cook me the pasta and I can't wait to finally change the pants I’ve been wearing for about 40 days. On the way back, after endless hours on the bus, we decide to stretch our legs a little. We put together all the pieces we left on the street and manage to finally climb the first volcano we had planned at the beginning. It was supposed to be a day-to-day adventure, a quick interlude before getting back to Santiago. That's not exactly what happened, but this is another story. Que le vaia bien chicos.
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