Chapter 5 Vuelta de Chile

Días 29-33: The race to the capital is on and those sandals come in handy at last (512km)

Día 29 Slippery slope (Curacautín to Los Sauces)

We’re trading the steady progress and sensational surroundings for some good old, head-down, tarmac-y, enduro schleps.  

The reason? Nicole, Jake's girlfriend, touches down in Santiago early Sunday morning (it’s Tuesday today).  

The distance? 855km stand between us and Santiago, the Chilean capital.  

The caveat? We won't make it. Jake will need to get a train on Saturday afternoon wherever we are. It's just a matter of how far we can get. 

I've got an extra day, but I am booked into the shared apartment on Sunday night. Paying for a bed I’m not sleeping in is something I’m only willing to do once. Therefore, Monday is my train day if I haven't made it to Santiago. 

---

Tuesday 10am 

We start late and Jake casts shade on my plan of hitting 100kms.

Jack: “You’re such a conservative, have some faith!”

Jake: “I’m just being realistic.”

Only some hair-ruffling, grin-inducing downhill can solve this sort of domestic fracas.

Fortunately, our route offers the kind of elevation plot you’d gladly introduce your mother to. A full 60 miles of smooth decline with the comforting backdrop of luscious farmland and moderate tree coverage. Kms fall like Tory seats in the 2024 election; frequently and to our great pleasure.

Marathon long, eye-wateringly straight roads line the afternoon after 30 sushi pieces for lunch. Finally, the marvelously named Los Sauces, squirts into view with 124km on the clock. A tree-lined cove 50m from the road will do for the camp tonight.

Nearby, chained dogs sense our presence, but their barks fail to alert any hostile humans. We enjoy their inability to explain our presence to their owners. Another safe night secured at no cost.  

124kms down (a new record), 731kms remain (5 days left)

---

Día 30 Tensions rise (Los Sauces to Los Ángeles)

“To be Mapuche in Chile is to be a hologram. Or a computer virus.”¹

A day of foreboding images. Ash licks bare arms as we watch flames flicker higher than rooftops in downtown Los Sauces. It’s logging country, and the indigenous are angered by this use of the land. They believe it cannot be owned. 

Anti-state graffiti sprawled on every bus stop; dissent is visible. Armoured vehicles overtake, stuffed with young soldiers in khaki, solemn and focused, on their way to force back Mapuche gains. 

The resistance is strongest here, and it’s in danger of becoming something much more traumatic for the Chilean state.

Pedro Cayuqueo writes so eloquently about the prevalence of police violence and racism, unearthing secrets the state wants to remain obscured. Their discovery would only slow the nation building project.  

“Diversity, for 20th century thinkers, was a problem. They stopped at nothing to enforce uniformity. Believe me, diversity in the modern world is nothing but a strength. A valuable asset for businesses and the economy of a state. But sadly Chile remains in the past, tethered to another century.”²

A huge advertising board. A family with the whitest of white faces and absurdly saccharine smiles, ‘Dream homes on your own land!’ 

It’s a gash in the natural landscape , rising over three Mapuche locals at the bus stop, their clothes hinting at their impoverished state. They share nothing in common with the figures ‘above’ them. 

---

“Everyone loved the queen,” an old man tells us at a service station.

“Your country is so much better lead than ours. Strong military men. But we are still young, only 200 years old. You are 1000 years old,” he says wistfully.  

“And where are your girlfriends?” asks his friend. 

---

We stealth camp in a field of Christmas trees outside the city of Los Ángeles. We’d have to stick around another 7 months for anyone to think of looking for us here.

Another 100km ticked off; the centurion life suits us well on these arrow-straight Roman roads. 

100kms down, 631kms remain (4 days left)

---

Día 31 Health kick (Los Ángeles to Pemuco)

I’ve settled on a dietary plan: downgrading from 95% vegan to something a little more flexible. The thing is, scrambled eggs here are different class.

Paila de huevos, pan y café have become our staple desayuno in mid-Chile, and when it costs £5 for two, it’s a no-brainer. Still no meat, although twice I’ve bitten into pig flesh due to misunderstood orders. Thankfully, I lived to tell the tale. 

Today marks the start of Jake’s health kick. Cheese, humus, peanuts and chocolate biscuits have been put on the ‘off’ list. Eggs, fruit and ‘health’ biscuits populate the ‘on’ list. I had to remind him of his new committment when he ordered cheesy empanadas at the first stop. We look out for each other you see.

87.5kms down, 544kms remain (3 days left)

---

Día 32 City slickers (Pemuco to San Carlos)

We’re being pleasingly roasted in actual summer weather. The first time it’s been a consistent tshirt and shorts situation.

These are the kind of bikepacking termperatures we're used to. Jake from his monumental Nairobi to Durban quest. And Jack from hotfooting it across France and Iberia, as well as some unseasonably sun dazzled days in the Scots Highlands. The warmth is welcome.

---

Noon finds us chilling in Chillán. A brief but intense affair in city surroundings leaves me keen for Santiago. Jake on the other hand can’t wait to get out. This may be because he needs constant access to open air baños. His stomach is not playing pelota.

Jack: “Come back to the light Jake. The sunshine world wants you. Don’t let the darkness take you away.”

Jake: *groans and rubs stomach*.

We spin east at speed, hurtling through vineyards towards the cordillera before jerking north once more. No more climbs for the foreseeable.  

We finish on 99 today.  

Q: Does this trigger my desire to run a meaningless 1km extra with my watch to secure another cien (100km)?  

A: No, of course not. 

Q: Has this happened previously?

A: No comment. 

I begin to yearn for Santiago. It’s so close. I know I can make it in two more days if I push hard.

99kms down, 445kms remain (2 days left)

---

Día 33 Aquaman takes a train [Adiós Jake] (San Carlos to Panimávida)

When people ask Jake to describe his bikepacking style, he claims to be a maverick aquatic pioneer.

When people ask Jack how he describes Jake’s bikepacking style, he tends to agree. If by maverick you mean misguided, by aquatic you mean moist, and by pioneer you mean oddball.

That's harsh. I'm just jealous.

For six weeks, Jake has been nothing short of a really annoying rep for Shimano. He’s worn them with white socks (sometimes double pairs) almost every day, and don’t I know it.

Today, for the first time, the sandals actually seem like a good idea; finally vindication has arrived.

---

We head on and on down a risky route on what I pig-headedly insist must be a way over the impending waterway. Jake repeatedly questions this and suggests going round.

A bone shaking rock path finally slithers into a pacy river. Step forward Aquaman. Jake cruises through the waves, bags fixed high above wheel, feet cushioned as if they were sheathed in sponge.

Jack loves the first crossing, despite shoes tied around neck and toes searching for purchase on slippery rock. The second and third crossings, to retrieve heavy panniers, one balanced on each arm like an over enthusiastic porter, are rather more pain inducing.

In fact, one toenail relinquishes the dreamy sun and dappled water in exchange for a sadistic trip to the pain cave. It crunches into hard stone and brings an end to the river crossing fun. Jake, until this point filming and laughing from the opposite bank, is rudely instructed to go and get the panniers as Jack lobs them into a bush. Fun time over.

Once I’ve got over my heavily bruised foot digit I summon the decorum to bid farewell to my most excellent travelling companion. Train for Aquaman. One way ticket to Santiago. Hope u find some rapids there bro x

For me, an afternoon 60km, another river crossing, and a lonely pizza after it turns out my booked hostel doesn’t exist.

I’m saved by a taped live recording of Macha y el Bloque Depresivo, ‘songs infused with the luxurious sadness, romantic despair and perverse happiness of poets, sailors and sinners.’

104kms down, 341kms remain (1 day left)

I’m ready to go full enduro. Tomorrow, Chile Chico delivers.

150 hours cycling ✅

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Instagram | Komoot

---

Next post:

Previous post:

1. Pedro Cayuqueo, Porfiada y rebelde es la memoria (2018)

2. Ibid