We left Coyhaique in good order yesterday morning. We were out of the campground “El Camping” at nine o’clock on our next leg due north. But first meet Florian, another young German whose company we enjoyed briefly when we camped next to his diesel powered Nissan Patrol SUV “never imported to the US,” he pointed out.
Florian shipped from Germany to Canada and from Halifax he drove to Prudhoe Bay in far north Alaska and from there started south except he broke down in the wilderness, alone. He didn’t die and instead got his Nissan to Fairbanks where they welded it back together, a car that freaked mechanics out as they’d never seen this model before. I told him we were lucky as Jeep dealers are much more easy going in South America the two times we stopped by for some advice. He’s selling the car to another German and flying home to Germany next month, meanwhile he’s hiking and having fun.
We had a few things to buy, things we hadn’t found at HiperPatagonico but we found at Unimarc a chain Layne likes least of all.
Yogurt, so hard to find Greek stuff in quart containers but they had tons in this vast warehouse.
We walked and found sugar free almond milk. Score. And granola and shampoo for one third the price we found it in Argentina. Would you pay 15 bucks for a bottle of shampoo? Milei’s reforms are a tightrope for ordinary citizens.
In Argentina two ounces of sliced ham cost nearly six bucks, here we paid two dollars for eight ounces (roughly. They use the metric system here for some reason. 28 grams to an ounce).
And off we went. I know you’re wondering why this emphasis on our supermarket fun but the point of this shopping expedition is that between here and Puerto Montt we have found one small box store to replace what we use in this wilderness. We also left town with a full tank of gas as part of our precautionary shopping.
I checked our fuel consumption on the gravel and we made about 10 miles to the US gallon over 200 miles. On this pavement we usually average around 16. Quiet, easy ride and using less fuel, so pavement gets my vote. Florian smiled when I told him where the gravel behind south of Villa Cerro Castillo.
Oh I don’t mind gravel he said brightly. Which I figured might be why his chassis broke on the notoriously rough Dalton Highway in loneliest Alaska.
I cannot say it was a breathtaking drive. We are used to mountains now and these didn’t even have snow, they were merely wreathed in clouds which dropped drizzle on us.
This is summer in Patagonia. 50 degrees and drizzle is the wake up call. Lunch is 60 degrees and pale light as though there is a sun up there somewhere. Darkness falls at nine and we listen to water tinkling on the roof.
You could make the point I am too dependent on sunshine and I would agree. That isn’t a product of living in the Keys, rather I lived in the Keys because I like sunshine. I lack the gene that allows me to wallow in the wet.
I am finding this road repetitive, but this is what it looks can like.
Oh and a mile of gravel when we arrived in Puerto Aysen and took refuge in the campground near downtown.
It’s the weekend so we’ll let the locals play and resume going north on Monday.
Luckily GANNET2 is a good refuge in rainy weather. A high of 60 and rain for us, and at at least it’s not snow.
We’re hoping to fit in a route via a couple of ferries and Isla Chiloé visited previously, on our way to Puerto Montt.
