The Carretera became a world of lakes and big rivers. Exploring on horseback in the timeless Río Ňadis valley revealed an unexpected national monument.
We had rough camped before Río Tranquilo and headed south the following day with Lago General Carrera a constant presence on our left. There was nothing to stop for as such, just a succession of fine views one after the other.
We skirted around the Rio Leones delta, stopping on a bridge to take photographs with colourful purple lupins to the fore – springtime and they were everywhere, hosts of them adding colour to the roadside edges.
A mere 48 km south of Río Tranquilo we came to an early and abrupt stop at the large bridge Puente General Carrera over the outlet of the lake. I knew there was a rough campsite on its north side and although it was a little small and a bit open for tents, the view was just irresistible.
We spent the afternoon on the rather pebbly foreshore of the lake enjoying the distant mountains across the water, then when the sun got too hot for us we moved to the equally stunning view beyond the bridge to the west where the waters narrowed before emptying into Lago Bertrand. It was so dazzlingly blue it was hard not to jump in, but the temperature was icy.
It is a popular spot with fishermen and we saw people fishing from the shore and going out in boats. In the evening the mountains turned a rosy hue as the sun set; later in the night, the southern cross shone brightly over the bridge.
To Cochrane
Again we were caught out by distances! From the bridge over the Lago General Carrera to Cochrane is a mere 36 k – we left at 8 am and arrived in town for a 1 o’ clock lunch!
Admittedly there was quite a lot to distract us en route. The road was pretty: we swung past Lago Negro and Lago Bertrand, with the beautifully sited Hacienda Très Lagos nestled delightfully at the head of the former. It has spacious double rooms and cabanas with lake views starting at US$ 240.
We were entering a world of fly fishing lodges and I get the impression that when the Carretera is bituminised, which cannot be very far away, that this will be a very desirable area indeed.
We dropped down to Puerto Bertrand and had our first sight of the Rio Baker which runs off the great General Carrera and Bertrand lakes. It carries their beautiful blue colour within its waters, which are deep and swift and full of dancing white horses: it is a popular rafting river.
Puerto Bertrand was a sleepy little hamlet in a lovely location. Several jetties stretched away and a cafe offered meals. There was even another bus restaurant, this one with a roof terrace, although it didn’t appear to be open. In the season, it is a white water rafting and fishing base.
We drove on along the valley with the Baker on our right. There were several fishing lodges and cabanas and a couple of cafes overlooking the river to entice one to dawdle.
This we shortly did at the confluence of the Baker with the Nef, a muddy brown glacial river coming down from the Exploradores Glacier. It is much smaller than the Baker but manages to taint it sufficiently to dull its turquoise waters a notch.
The confluence is reached by an easy 700 m walk from the Carretera, the noise of the river heralding its presence in the valley below. It is quite a spectacular place with rapids stretching across the breath of the river, a tumultuous tumbling maelstrom of white water. The confluence just below is quite tame by comparison.
It is a place to linger, or take a picnic – there are even some little pebble beaches above the rapids where the water swirls smoothly, hiding salmon and trout in its depths.
Another viewpoint is a little further along the road where one looks right down the river from high above – watch for the gap on your right.
Traveling through dry rugged country, after 18 km another confluence is reached, this time the Baker with the Chacabuco. It is just after a sign for the Parque Patagonia and is a well appointed lookout stop.
There is a dry toilet with a disconcertingly see-through door and an informative display stand at the lookout which gives a wonderful view over the meeting of the two rivers. It is easy to spot the influence of the Doug Thompkins’ foundation in the standard of the place.
Cochrane
The final steep run into Cochrane follows the brilliantly clear waters of the Rio Cochrane; both the river and the town are named after Lord Thomas Cochrane, a Napoleonic war hero who was later thrown out of Parliament in disgrace. Invited to Chile, he became a citizen 13 days after his arrival in December 1818.
He was appointed Vice Admiral of the Chilean Navy and subsequently captured Valdivia from Spain, ending Spanish power on mainland Chile. He went on to assist Peru and Brazil with their independence struggles.
The town was pretty isolated until 1988 when the Carretera reached it and still has a slight frontier feel about its diverse roughly thrown together buildings. However, as Patagonian towns go, it was quite a buzzy little place: the Panaderia La Estrella was open for empanadas and real coffee (I actually had one of the local specialities, a raspberry juice, which is quite refreshing) and there was a local craft market in the square, lovingly adored with a huge Christmas tree.
Rose bushes, yet to bloom, lined the streets and they had sparkling road signs – this place is trying hard. That said, it was hard to find a half fresh vegetable anywhere (anywhere south of Coyhaique come to that) and the prices were about three times more expensive!
A nice place to stay is the Hotel Ultimo Paraiso, made entirely of local wood and only a couple of blocks off the square. Bedrooms come with fireplaces and home produced breakfast – doubles start at CLP 145,000.
Calluqueo Glacier
Roads on maps invite exploration and one that caught my eye led to a viewpoint over the Calluqueo Glacier. The X-901 leaves the Carretera 5 km south of Cochrane and roughly follows the Río del Salto for 44 km to its source at the glacial Laguna Calluqueo.
It was a stunning drive down a valley of high snow covered peaks offset against thousands of purple lupins which covered the sandbanks in the milky turquoise river, rioted along its edges and festooned the roadside.
Interspersed with pinks, white and yellows the heady flowery essence filled the car as we drove with open windows. The spikey mountains ahead were reminiscent of Torres del Paine, with the twin towers of Cerro Los Mellizos and other needle tipped peaks.
Finally the glacier was fully revealed, a white icy mass descending some 10 km from the spectacular 3,706 m heights of Monte San Lorenzo, the highest mountain in Patagonia. It was named after the first settler to the region who arrived in 1941. A thoughtfully provided mirador with bench seats gave us a grandstand view for our coffee stop.
A little further on the road ends and a path through the trees can be followed to the glacier face, which is retreating approximately 25 m a year. Trips can be organised in Cochrane if you want to actually walk on it – some cross the lagoon by boat.
The road, built in 2015, lapses into a rough track which fully runs out after 3.8 gentle kilometres. The Chilean army obviously intended extending it further but it never happened and the trail is now the end (or the start) of the Ruta los Pioneros, a long distance route which leads to Villa O’Higgens. It was once the only access to that town before the Carretera was built and today is a popular walking or riding trip.
We followed it until the makeshift road ran out in a grassy meadow where rolling horses created dust clouds. The wilderness hut appeared to be occupied by a gaucho so we did not investigate further.
Walking back we had superb glacier and mountain views and were lucky enough to see a pair of Magellanic woodpeckers, the male a glossy black with a vivid red head.
We retreated some 3 km to the Puente Calluqueo to wild camp beside the Río del Salto. It was one of those rare and glorious days in Patagonia when the sun shone brilliantly from a cloudless sky.
Later the setting sun turned the Mellizos towers a rich orange and tinged the surrounding mountain tops before night fell and revealed vivid stars.
X-903
It was such a fabulous glacier view that we returned to the Mirador for breakfast, watching the boat slowly chug across the lake. Calluqueo was first photographed in the 1940`s and has retreated some 4 km, leaving bare scared sides to the valley.
15 km north of the Mirador, the X-903 branches off for 28 km to Lago Brown. The 2WD gravel road gave us some excellent views of Monte San Lorenzo which had a glossy icy cap. It can be approached via the San Lorenzo hacienda, 9 km off the road, but unfortunately a 4WD was necessary and we didn’t feel like hiking in. There is supposed to be a really cool campsite with mountaineering and horseriding possibilities.
We never quite reached Lago Brown as the Chilean Army was road building again and the road was closed just before the lake. It appears they are trying to make a link with the road at Lago Cochrane to the north.
We turned around and picniced on the pebble flats below the shiny new Meccano bridge over Río Tranquilo. The day was surprisingly hot and we found a wild camp further down the valley on the river. We curled up amidst the lupins in their glorious savage profusion.
Río Nadis Valley
Finally we drove south from Cochrane through rough rugged country, feeling sorry for the heavily laden bicyclists that zig zagged up the steep hills in the heat and smothering dust.
We found quite a few of them a little later on at the junction with the X-902 at the bridge over the Rio Barrancoso – it was obviously a popular overnight stop.
We turned west up the Río Ňadis valley. A pastoral idyll unfolded before us as we drove through pretty mountain fringed pastures with clearings and small farms. It was like stepping back to a bygone time when everything was handmade: the houses, the corrals, the gates, even the water troughs were made of wood.
After 10 km of gate opening we arrived at Camping Río Ňadis, an idyllic estancia on the Río Baker. It almost had the look of an English park with scattered large trees under which horses twitched their tails in the shade.
There was a grassy camp area with mountain views and a beautifully made bunkhouse and kitchen. A separate quincho was built around an old tree which supported the roof and all the tables and benches were handmade – they would cost a fortune to make in England but wood is in abundance in Patagonia and there seems to be a real craftsmanship in the work.
A wandering German was the only other person in residence. Gerrard spends 4 months a year in Chile and keeps a car in Santiago. He was mulling over whether he should apply for Chilean citizenship, wondering if other options were desirable in the unsettled climate of present day Europe – he would certainly be following a long established tradition of German migration to the country! The area was actually first explored by a German, Hans Steffen, in 1898.
The Río Baker was 10 minutes away in the next field, undercutting the bank as it ran wide and brown towards Caleta Tortel. We had an evening stroll through a paddock still containing the remnants of the felled giants that once grew there – the wood was still good and burned well.
Paso Don Carlos
The estancia offers good value riding trips so at 9 am the next day we were introduced to our mounts. I got a Thelwellian chunky buckskin with short legs and bushy mane and tail who did a great job of transporting me 24 km up and down the valley.
Accompanied by Lorena, the owner’s daughter, and a cheerful gaucho we rode out through a forest of coigüe, ñire and scattered dog roses, through cleared meadows and finally along the banks of the Ňadis and Baker rivers.
After 7 km we passed the last farm, where an outdoor larder sheltered joints of meat. A little further on there was a little abandoned wood shingled house which had apparently belonged to the farmer’s grandmother but at the age of 80 she had moved to Cochrane – I’m not sure which was the more remote!
After several steep stream crossings and an area of sheet rock where we dismounted and led the horses, we arrived in a woody clearing and tied them up. Nearby were some vicious rapids where the Baker narrowed through a gorge – Lorena said people normally carried the canoes around that section!
Looking above the gentler waters downstream, a sheer cliff face protruded on which one could see a rough track – this marked the Paso San Carlos, our next destination about 20 minutes walk away.
The San Carlos pass sits between 26 to 107 m above the Río Baker at an altitude of 590 m. Its total length is approximately 644 m. Whilst not pretty, it is impressive – the whole concept of the thing is unbelievable when one sees what it has gone through: I would have at least expected a gold mine on the other side! It was actually opened in 1902 to link the area to Puerto San Carlos.
We started off on a narrow bush track, crossing a couple of picturesque streams with waterfalls and reached a flat area with an old broken down gate. Turning the corner from there, we were in the pass proper: first of all, there was a national monument sign then the track narrowed alarmingly around the side of the hill.
It crossed a rockfall area and hugged the cliff face where at one stage a little wooden bridge had been constructed over a particularly narrow area. The path had literally been hacked out of the rock, giving a solid surface and a rocky overhang. It then rose sharply and passed through a small tunnel in the rock before merging back into the forest.
The whole thing was precarious in the extreme and there were places where I certainly did not want to look down!
We picniced on the pass then walked back to our ponies for the return ride to the estancia. It had been a pleasant day exploring in the steps of the old pioneers.
The wind rose in the late afternoon and we were later amused by the appearance of a cyclist who epitomized the word ‘knackered’. Ken was from the Orkneys and had left Ushuaia 2 weeks previously. He had chosen to travel lightly, without even a stove, thinking to buy food en route, not realizing the lack of facilities on this part of the Carretera.
The strong headwinds (most cyclists choose to travel south with them) had reduced his estimated 200 miles a day to less than a 100 and the ripio roads and brutal hills had caused a further reduction. Now there were no hot showers on tap and the senora was not doing food. We offered him dinner but he just reeled away into a bunk room to collapse!
He was a good example of someone underestimating the Carretera – perhaps only cyclists these days capture some of the real essence of the original track where the going is still tough, long and dirty!
