Valdivia - San Martin; trouble strikes.

We had rain most of that day. We had woken up not that early because we slept too well. After leaving Don Jose's place we started pushing pedals towards San Martin for a second day. We had a nice sun that morning but at midday things started to change. We had planned on reaching Puerto Fuy for the journey, a small spot right next to the Pirihueico lake and our last stop before reaching Argentinian soil. The road surprised us with several climbs and a rain that would join us for most of the day. At night, thing would go a bit dramatic.

Sun, Rain, Rain, Sun and Rain again.

People in the south is used to the rain. They say that when it's sunny, you have to seize the day and enjoy the outdoors. They also say that when it rains, well, you just have to accept it and be happy because that's the way the south is. Gladly with Camila, we are both happy under the rain, otherwise this second pedaling day would have been pretty bad.

After a nice morning at midday a light rain started, soon the light rain became thicker. We had arrived to the end of the pavement and a gravel laid ahead. It was time to eat and there was a small supplies store where we filled our stomachs with some sugary candies. We still had to pedal around 20 kilometres to reach Puerto Fuy so we asked if it was ok to cook outside the shop, a lady, probably owner of the shop, said she had no problems with us staying there so we improvised a roof to protect us from the rain. When we were ready to eat the rain hit harder, lucky for us, once we were done eating rain ceased a bit and we were able to continue under light rain.

It was a nice morning for pedaling.

The sky was threatening us with some drops though.

Finally thicker drops started to fall.

The road at this point changed drastically, it was really beautiful before too, amazing viewpoints where you could see the Panguipulli lake. Some shelters to cover yourself in case of rain and signs explaining what you were looking at, also some picnic tables to eat while looking at the lake. It reminded me a bit of Norway and the stops there are next to the roads where you enjoy the magnificent scenery.

Still, this gravel road had something. People say it's the south's magic. Maybe this magic hit us, or the scenery plus the pedaling made it all wonderful. Despite the fact it was raining, Camila also agreed the place was amazing. The gravel gave the road a touch of a more rural area. We started feeling we were finally on the countryside where not many people go.

Gravel all the way and the girl in orange.

The rain stopped, we had time to snap a pic.

A bridge with an amazing river. We felt like jumping into the water. The hybrid and the armored.

The rain continued and road got heavier for our legs. After around 2 hours of pedaling, light rain became heavy rain, it got darker and it got steeper. We were going uphill all the time now and we still had to go another 15 kilometres till Puerto Fuy. With nothing more to do but to pedal we kept pushing. Around 6 pm we arrived to Neltume, another small spot lost in the area. This place was 5 kilometres away from Puerto Fuy and it's THE place with a 24/7 shift polyclinic in the area. In case of emergency most of the people goes there seeking for medical help. If they can't help you there, then you have to go to Panguipulli somehow. If you can't reach Panguipulli, well , you are screwed.

After crossing the small town of Neltume, a huge climb was waiting for us. We were tired after pedaling under the rain and going uphill most of the time. We wanted to camp, but I was kind of skeptic about doing it under the rain and something was telling me to reach Puerto Fuy and find a hostel where to spend the night. Nonetheless, we asked for camping sites around the area just to get a negative response from all of them. Closed because it's not summer they said, who would camp under this weather?. Most of the camping work from late November, early December till March. Being October, we were out of luck finding a place where to camp. Wood would be a problem too, with that heavy rain, finding dry wood to make a fire would have been a bit troublesome. We decided we had to climb the hill and reach Puerto Fuy.

Puerto Fuy and the horror.

We made it to Puerto Fuy. Maybe it was around 8 pm. I can't really tell, it was still raining and it was almost night dark. It had been like these the past 3 hours though since the rain got heavier, so telling what time of the day it was wasn't really possible. After some looking around we found a homey place where to spend the night. We dismounted our things and got warm and cozy right next to the typical southern stove that people use for a different set of things like cooking, drying clothes, warming the house, boiling water, etc.

Talking with the landlords was cool, they were an mid elderly couple who had spent their whole life in the area. We had a nice 'once' with them and got ready to sleep. Camila mentioned that her stomach was kind of jumpy maybe because of what we have had for tea. I made my specialty before sleeping; scrambled eggs, melted cheese and some salami. This accompanied with mate weed sets me ready to sleep.

We hit the bed and Camila said her stomach was hurting more now. She didn't want to take anything for the pain though and said that with some sleep it would go away. Well, it didn't. After around 1 hour she started saying she couldn't sleep and wanted to throw up. She rushed it to the bathroom and around 20 minutes later came back looking as a ghost. "It hurts badly" she said, so she started looking in her medical supplies kit and took some stomachache pills, 15 minutes later, she would throw them up again. This going to the bathroom, puking, coming back to bed, went on for around 3 hours. She would throw up, feel a bit better, we would try to sleep, and once again the pain. Around 4 am the pain got uncontrollable. Camila started to roll around the bed claiming it hurted, and that it hurted a lot. We took some medicine it was supposed to be used in strong stomachache pain but as soon as she drank them she threw up. We made some herbal tea, but we got the same result. At this point I think she started hallucinating because what she was talking was all nonsense. "Leave me here, I will go back to Santiago somehow." "I will die, it hurts too much, leave me to die here and reach San Martin", "Baaaaawwwwww it hurts baaaaaaawwwwwww, have you seen the sheeps already?" Lol wut? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" what? what?, ok, enough. I told her I would go wake up the landlords and ask them if they knew if the local polyclinic was open, she said no but the pain was too much that she agreed. I talked to the landlords and the man said it didn't open till 8 am, the only option was to go back to Neltume because that's the place they have night shifts. He said he could take us in the pick up truck if it was a serious emergency and so I said yes. I talked to Camila and in a lucid moment she agreed and said yes. "it hurts i'm gonna die!!". It was 5 am and we had to go back to Neltume. At this point I thought we would have to go back to Valdivia if shit got too serious, I even thought about an appendicitis but it didn't hurt where the appendix is. We blamed the 'once' we had. Those scrambled eggs with cheese and salami may have hurted her, a bomb for the liver, but the bomb didn't do a thing to  me, I was just sleepy. It could have also been the water. But I drank the same water all the time. We went back the steep hill and the 5 kilometres to Neltume in the pick up truck with the land lord. Camila was seated in the back sit trying not to throw up all over the pick up truck and trying to cope with the pain. We made it to the polyclinic and after some waiting (Camila; "why do we have to wait so much! where's the nurse! it hurts! baaaaaaaawwwww!") the nurse arrived with a clear sleepy face wondering who the heck were we and what the heck had happened.
What's going on? she asked, I told the story and she played a bad poker face and said "Who the heck eats that before going to sleep?". I do, I said, and here we are :). After some examinations she concluded the only way to stop the pain was to give her a direct shot to the vein. After 10 minutes laying there still in pain Camila blurted; "Give me something for the pain! Please!.". I can't give you nothing, the nurse said, woman up! the pain should go away soon. After around 20 minutes, finally, Camila started to feel better, or at least, the pain started to disappear. The nurse gave me some pills and instructions and said that she had to rest and eat lightly. Of course, I replied, and went our ways.

We went back with the landlord. Camila was feeling better now but she felt really weak. We reached Puerto Fuy again, it was 7 am and we hand't slept at all. I told Camila about spending the next day there at the hostel and not taking the ferry to cross the lake. I considered it was much better to have a rest day to check how her stomach would react rather than keep on pushing. With a noticeable weak voice she said she wanted to continue, that she could but we would take it easy. We agreed on discussing it after some hours of sleep. The ferry would leave at 1 pm and it was the only chance to cross the lake that day.

Pirihueico Lake.

We woke up around 10.30. We slept almost nothing but Camila felt much better. We discussed about leaving or staying, I still wanted to stay, but Camila wanted to keep on. After some minutes talking we agreed, not to my like, that we would continue. Had it been me, I think I would have chicken out and had given up that day. Where the heck did Camila got strength again to keep on I have no idea, but she seemed convinced that we had to keep going and maintain the schedule to reach San Martin. After seeing her last night bawling nonsense and rolling in the bed asking for something to stop the pain I would have never imagined she would tell me "no, we have to keep on". When I told the landlords we would leave and take the ferry to cross the lake, their faces turned into an "are you nuts?". The lady warned us that there was nothing ahead and that if we had an emergency we would be on our own. The man told us that there was a police post a bit after the border and that we should seek for help there in case of need. The ferry would leave at 1 and it was 11.30. We had to rush it.

Camila was feeling much better, I guess the direct shot to the vein worked as intended because she even ate that morning. Not as much and as me, of course, but enough for a breakfast. We also had the problem with customs. We couldn't take much food with us because they get rid of it at the border and we didn't know if we could get some more food at the other side. We got ready, and with some doubts from my side, we departed.

The ferry left at 1 pm. Not much people was crossing that day. A couple of police vans a couple of cars and a huge truck. Not much for being such a wonderful place. The ferry crossing reminded me a lot of the time I spent in Norway, the landscape and the air were so fresh and pure it was wonderful to breath it. As the day before had rained most of the day, the upper part of the mountains had a bit of snow and it was a really beautiful and replenishing sight to be there. I think that also contributed to Camila's desire of keep pushing. Still I have no idea where she got energies from.

From the Ferry.

From the ferry.

After 2 hours we made it to the other side of the lake, we still had to go 11 kilometers in order to reach the border and make our leave of Chilean soil. After nearly 100 metres a pick up truck stopped and offered us a ride till the border. A friendly guy asked where we were going and if we wanted a ride. We said yes and mounted the bikes up the pick up truck. This guy, who never told us his name, was a Carabinero, police officer. He works at the police post in the border carrying out the duty of guarding the border with Argentina. He also drives a motorcycle around the area making sure all is in order. During summer he has to hike up the mountains for several days in order to check that nobody has crossed from Argentina to Chile without notice. One would think, what the heck could go wrong so far from the city with people leaving away from each other and enough space to be free, at the border high up in the mountains. Well, shit also happens here and he told us how couple of nights before one guy wanted to hit another with an axe because they had a minor fight. He also told us how people try to smuggle cocaine or other drugs through non authorize paths and how people usually get losts in this process. Shit's tough up there it seems.

The border and to Argentina we go!.

Camila was feeling much better. With the ride, we got to the border quite fast. Before going through the process of leaving the country we ate next to a huge dog guarding the border control. Sun was shinning above our heads and the beautiful landscape plus the weather lifted up our spirits. As the ferry crosses the lake only once a day, and being it the only way to get from Chile to Argentina, nobody was expecting us at the border. They usually wait for all the cars to pass and then nothing else really happens, so most of them leave to do whatever they feel like till the next ferry arrives or leaves. As we were riding, we arrived to the border way later than the rest of the cars, so it was a surprise for everyone to see a couple of bikers arrive. After eating and waiting for the people to get to the control office, we departed towards Argentina. With almost no food and me worried about Camila's health we kept pushing. It was 4 pm and we wanted to keep pushing as far as possible as we didn't even have flour to cook some 'chapatis' (replacement of bread). So we kept on towards Argentina and the customs.

Republic of Argentina.

Good bye Chile, at least for a couple of days, it was Wednesday and we would come back next Monday to Chile. We crossed into Argentinian soil quite fast, and again, nobody was expecting us at the border, so when we entered customs they didn't even bother to check if we had some forbidden things such as vegetables, seeds, or other organic things. We just went on into Argentinian soil, no checks, just a stamp and that was it. We asked the guys at the Argentinian border if they knew where we could get some bread, they told us to ask some 100 meters down the road, there they would know.

Ahead laid the gravel road that would lead us to San Martin, it was early, around 4.30 pm, so we still had some more sunlight to continue. We kept going and found a nice museum house resembling how colonists lived when they got here, we asked a girl who was in charge of the place where we could get some bread or flour. She said there was a restaurant around 100 meters away and if nobody was there we could ask in a house in front of the restaurant. Those were our only options till San Martin, which definitely we wouldn't reach that day.

We reached the restaurant but the girls in charge of it said they didn't have anything to sell, and they had barely something to eat, they were waiting for the 'Patron' who was supposed to bring supplies from San Martin, but they hadn't heard anything from him. The woman in the house in front hadn't baked bread for selling that day. We met also other bicycle tourers who were on their way to Chile. They warned us how hard the road had been for them that day and how it took them 7 hours from San Martin to reach that point and that at some points they had had to hop off the bike and walk. Geez, bad omens for the road ahead and no bread for us that night. We thought we were going to eat just soup when from the distance a gaucho appeared riding his horse. I asked him if he knew where we could get some bread or some flour for baking it and he said that he would gladly give us some. We followed him and on the way the rest of the group of Argentinians bikers showed up. The gaucho asked if anyone had some medication for muscle pain, he had had a back pain the whole day which was killing him. We had some, so we told him we would give him some pills. The gaucho invited us to his place and after finding a plastic bag he proceed to give me around 2 kilos of flour, he asked if we needed more, certainly 2 kilos was way more than what we needed. He also gave us some salt and wanted to give us yeast. He was really nice and was really thankful for the muscle pain pills we gave him. We were thankful for the flour, we would eat some soup with chapatis that night. Once again, the road provided us with what we needed. The gaucho also offered us a place where to put the tent, he said he liked to help people up there because he knew at some point he would need others help, so it was an exchange he was happy to make. It was too early to stay there though, so we kept moving.

We continued pushing pedals for a bit more of 25 kilometers, but the way was hard as the other bikers had said. Mostly going uphill but nothing so terrible to hop off the bike, otherwise we wouldn't have managed to pedal 25 kilometres uphill. The bends on the road were amazing. The road changed drastically from what we had had in Chile. Constantly in Chile we would find houses next to the road, cars passing, not that frequently but still cars passing next to us. People from there to here. Never really on our own. Here, there we no houses at all, just the lake to the right side and the mountain to the left side. This caused a small problem when it started to get dark because it was kind of difficult to find a nice place where to put the tent. Finally, at the side of the road, we found a flat area where to put the tent. We made chapatis with the flour we got from the gaucho and made a wonderful soup that kept us warm for the night. At the other day we were suppose to climb around 12 more kilometers and the continue in flat for others 6 or 7 more in order to reach San Martin. Camila made it for the day. We had few hours of sleep and a intense day of pedaling but her stomach didn't betrayed her during that journey. She used energy who knows from where, after all that throwing up and pain she had the night before, she was feeling quite ok. We had to rest though, we knew the next day would be difficult too, climbing with all that load on the bike isn't as fast as one would think.

A bend on the road towards San Martin, they are actually like the sign.