The Land of the Wind

Tierra del Fuego? The southernmost island in South America should be called the Land of the Wind instead!

- Freddy, is the wind always like that…?
- No. Sometimes he's twice as strong.

Estancia Viamonte offers cyclists a cabin to protect themselves from the strong wind.

The landscape flattens quickly in a few days after my departure from Ushuaia, all in the south of South America. As I enter the Argentine pampas, I hide behind my friend Freddy most of the time. But even by mutually blocking the wind, we only drive 8 or 9 km / h…

Freddy already knows this climate well. He has already driven a few months in Argentina, from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia. Most of the time in this hellish wind that never stops. From morning to night, it blows in our faces at speeds of 50 to 100 km / h.

The wind diminishes a little at night, but is still present until late at night. It is practically impossible to camp, at the risk of tearing your tent or breaking the frame. So we usually sleep in abandoned cabins.

One afternoon, a Thai man traveling on a motorbike stops by our side. Even though we are standing next to each other, we have to cry out to hear each other. He himself tells us that he has difficulty staying upright on a motorcycle. He shares with us that he met a Frenchman who was planning to drive from Ushuaia to Alaska. A two-year journey. After three days, he gave up, sold his bike, and decided to take the bus ...!

A nice herd of horses along the path.

Cars pass quickly on the road where many have already lost their lives ...

Jack, the Thai man riding a motorbike around the world.

16 km on foot

The island is almost half separated between Chile and Argentina.

The island of Tierra del Fuego, in the far south of the continent, is separated between Argentina and Chile. The Argentine section is actually landlocked in the neighboring country and we have to cross into Chile to get out. But the distances are so great and our speed so poor that we decide to go our separate ways to have a better chance of being picked up by a truck for a few kilometers. I go ahead.

But we are on a Saturday, and December 22 on top of that. The road is practically deserted and the only passing cars are filled with families and luggage for holiday tours. Nobody picks me up.

I decide to just bow my head and push to the border. I tell myself that it will surely be easier to talk to motorists at customs and find someone with whom to board on the Chilean side.

But no.

After leaving Argentina, I realize that the official entry into Chile is actually 16 km further! Including 12 km on soft gravel where it is impossible to pedal. The wind blows me at 80 km / h directly in my face with an infernal and constant noise, as if I were sticking my head for hours out of the window of a car launched on the highway.

In this noise, I can't even listen to my podcasts or music. I start singing alone, pushing my bike to 3 or 4 km / h. "A motel room, on the edge of the 117. I'm waiting to hear from you, my hands behind my head." "

Almost 4 hours later walking in this infinite horizon, I enter Chile. It is 20:30 p.m. and I decide to stop. Average of the day: 6,5 km / h…

The tongue sticking out to push against the wind, between the customs posts of Argentina and Chile.

Reunion

However, I still have 120 km to go to get to Cerro Sombrero, the meeting point fixed with Freddy. I set my alarm at 4:45 am to try to leave before the wind picks up again. Still without willpower in the morning, I don't leave until 9:30 am… Freddy will have to wait a long time for me there.

Freddy by the side of the road in an abandoned cabin.

A few kilometers further, I pass in front of another old abandoned hut. I can see a bicycle parked in front of it from a distance. Then as I approach, I recognize the yellow saddlebags and the red bag of my friend, then finally his bike. Without knowing how it is possible, I have to face the facts, it can only be him!

I enter the cabin shouting his name. Freddy is then asleep, lying on a plank of wood, and opens his eyes in disbelief.

- Aren't you at Cerro Sombrero ?!
- No. And you either?

No one picked it up the day before either. After several hours of waiting, he also decided to drive to the border. He slept on the Argentinian side and left early this morning to go to Chile. Without knowing it, he walked past me before I left, but was then too tired to continue and stopped in this cabin.

"And what are we doing here?" »Well, not much choice, we start riding two again!