Aconcagua: "You shall not pass"
Día 37: a 2000km detour in the name of Daft Punk
Part of Chapter 5 Vuelta de Chile
Día 37 Pasos Fronterizos Day
Río Blanco to Los Andes (GPX 34km)
Morning brings a rethink. The temperature has dropped. The 2000m peaks surrounding our campsite hollow, red last night in the fading sun, are now carpeted in snow. Aconcagua has spoken.
Over eggs in a border town restaurant the owner casts wise words of shade on our plea for the latest news.
“It’s closed. The pass will open when the weather permits. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
We’ve missed our window by one day. The snow will likely remain all week.
We head back to down Nicole, who’s waiting at Aconcagua’s mighty feet, clocking our fastest 60 minutes of the trip so far at 31km/h. Gravity did us a solid there.
Chile and Argentina share the longest border in South America. It stands at 5,150 kilometres or 3,200 miles. For context, the entire length of Great Britain is 1000km or 600mi.
In fact, the Chili-Argie frontera is the third longest in the world. Guess the other two before you scroll to the end for the answers.1
There is a natural geographic boundary between the two in the form of the Andes mountain chain. It has the sort of elevation profile that two nutters with no respect for their career progression would choose to cycle up and down repeatedly.
When flitting between the two coutries there is a diverse platter of Pasos (crossings) to choose from, around 45 to be precise. It’s the opposite end of the selection buffet available to UK voters, whose the two leading parties where recently referred to as “two cheeks of the same arse” by SNP MP Chris Law.
The problem for us is that that heavy snow I mentioned earlier is closing down our hopes of a crossing faster than you can say, “Rishi, can you turn the pool heater up please darling”.
After last night’s snow, All the other passes are blocked down south until Pino Hachado, a 20 (TWENTY) hour van detour. Our other options are to mill around on this side and wait or head north through Chile instead and miss out the Argentinian section altogether.
Given Nicole’s shorter timescale in South America and Jake’s desire to leave Chile, I let them decide what we do next.
Jake pushes hard for the ultra-drive. Nicole and I lock in.
We’ll be sad to give up on Paso Los Libertadores. But we’re tired of Chile. We want Argentina. Time to leave this long, thin country behind.
We roll the dice.
2pm The van, two bikes stuffed in the back and three humans stuffed in the front, pulls out of Los Andes heading South. The Panamerican Highway arrow straight ahead.
Santiago passes, spirits remain high.
4pm Rancagua, San Fernando, Curicó.
We’re retracing my all-night enduro route. This time with I have good company and no need to signal left and right with my arms.
7pm Talca, Linares and Parral all fall to the Daft Punk van before the sun sets. 400km dropped already. The motor holds firm.
10pm San Carlos, Chillán, Cabrero.
8 hours on the road and still charging on. Hot showers for 90p near Los Angeles, legs cramped, skin gleaming. We clatter into a riverside campsite at 1am. Gentlemen (and Nicole) to bed, for tomorrow we rise at daybreak.
2am The wind rips and rain batters my tent. Motorway coffee wrestles my eyelids open till gone 3. Minimal sleep forecast tonight. We need to get up early to beat the snowfall.
7am Mulchen, Collipulli, Victoria.
Tension builds as we climb towards the pass. Soon we’ll know the fate of our gamble; the PasosFroterizos Twitter feed will update at 9. More snow has fallen across the spine of the Andes overnight. It’s going to be tight.
9am Curacautín, Malacahuello, Lonquimay.
We take the exact road we cycled down a fortnight ago, back into Mapuche territory. A flying volcano country visit for Nicole. A glimpse of tierra we didn’t think we’d see again.
The feed won’t refresh. Where are the updates?
10am Mitraquen, Porvenir, Licura.
And finally, Pino Hachado. 872 km driven. We arrive to a queue at the immigration office. Passengers nervously waiting. But good news is on the way.
THE PASS IS OPEN. Jake punches the air in delight. His call was good. Total vindication.
To cement our triumph, the rest of the passes are closed. Twitter is flooded with angry punters screaming conspiracy and demanding that they open despite heavy snow and 100km/h winds. My personal favourite comment:
“Open the pass, for the love of god.”
Today will forever be known as PasosFronterizos Day, and each anniversary we shall gather to raise a glass to those who were shut down by snow. We three escaped thanks to the quick thinking of Hjudson.
Consider that border crossed.
We rise high above white hill tops, delirious in our triumph. Thousands of monkey puzzles gaze down from icy perches, uninterested in our puny, frantic existence.
We claim a fraction of their wisdom, as we sweep down into the home of maté, vino and Julio Cortazar.
As well, of course, as those two young revolucionarios, Alberto Granado and Che Guevara.
¿Que onda che?
I wonder how they manged their border crossings without the help of a billionaire cyberlord’s tweeting platform.
Seems like they still did ok.
End of Chapter 5
Next time
¡Vamos a Argentina!
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If you fancy a few more photos from the journey, here they are.
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