Fall is in the Air

Liucura Bajo Sur – Mulchen – Perquenco, Chile

When we arrived at Cabanas el Cristo we didn’t have real high hopes for the evening. It looked like it was going to be more of a motel, or even a love motel, type place. It was right off the highway, the only restaurant was a half-mile walk down the road, and when we biked up there wasn’t even a sign – just a blank concrete wall. 

But, whatever – at least it wasn’t out of the way. 

Before we could ring the bell two dogs came up to greet us – barking fiercely and jumping at the gate. 

“Oh, great, the place is also home to CUJO and Friends . . .”

It was at that point that we first saw Alexandra – apparently the proprietor of the place. She came over, opened the gate, shushed the dogs, and gave us a proper hello – or, hola, I guess. 

Things started looking up. 

The dogs – Olivia and Sammy – turned out to be harmless, nice, and pretty funny. Olivia is some type of lab/golden retriever mix and has a heart of gold. Sammy is one of those hot dog type canines where they forgot the legs. Sadly, Sammy has short dog’s disease; he’s constantly attacking Olivia, who just stands there and does her best to ignore the insecure little runt she has to live with . . .

Alexandra showed us to our place. At first we thought it was going to be a regular motel room. Exactly what we were expecting. Nothing special, but it would do . . .

But then she veered off in a different direction, and soon we saw that our true destination was a little cabin – a cabana. As it turned out, it’s super nice. Looks like it’s about as old as Felipe’s geodome – that is, barely used. Everything seemed brand new. Two bedrooms. A wood stove. And a kitchen! 

Now, maybe you people in America living in your own house don’t think a kitchen is that big of a deal. 

“I’m sick of cooking . . . Let’s go out . . .”

Umm. No. 

We’ve always liked cooking. But this trip has just given us new appreciation for important it is to us. 

It’s sinking in now . . . Okay. There’s a kitchen. 

But we have no food because we had no idea these cabanas would turn out to be such a score . . .

We ask Alexandra if there’s a supermarket of any kind around. 

“Si, in Perquenco. Cuatro kilometers.”

And it turns out she’s driving to town in five minutes. 

So now we’re loading our bikes in the back of the pickup – because we don’t need to ride a lot more today – and anyway, we’ll have to make the return trip . . . During the five minutes we wait for Alexandra, Diana notices that there are some rudimentary grills sitting around outside the cabana. Good news all around.

Alexandra seems super nice. She tells us that she has a 30-year-old daughter who has lived in Miami the last five years and is married to a Cuban-American. Alexandra really likes Miami: “It’s not cold, like this part of Chili . . .” 

No grandkids yet . . . We tell her that people have kids late in America; Diana was 34 when she had Ellie, our first. 

Successful trip to the grocery store, and on the way home I find not one, but two different apple trees. Turns out that both of them are kind of in front of houses, but one of them is clearly growing in the right-of-way – which makes it totally fair game. I grab a few – and, I must say, they look pretty good. (This is in addition to more raspberries and some figs Diana picked this morning – so an all around good foraging day!)

But there’s still more foraging to do. While there is a grill, there’s no wood in the cabana compound. No worries. We aren’t in the Atacama. This place is basically Northern Minnesota or Wisconsin – there are sticks and pine needles and stuff everywhere. I stop, grab some of this stuff, strap it to the back of the bike, and carry on.

Did I mention that I really love this part of Chili? 

In the end, everything came together for a spectacular surprise meal: grilled pork chops, Diana’s special recipe mashed potatoes and cabbage (hint: lots of cream in both), squash (I’ll get back to this), and a little bottle of sweet wine (wine is so cheap here – pretty sure they don’t tax it at all – might even subsidize it . . .). 

There were a few other little hiccups with the fire that I wanted to mention though. First, while I grabbed some wood, there was no paper sitting around on the roadside, and there’s none here in the cabana either . . . How to start the fire? Answer – dumpster dive in a garbage can in the area. Plenty of paper product and cardboard in there . . . The second problem? Hmm. I started the fire alright – but then I was sidetracked with other duties and the fire burned down too much and now there’s no more wood in the cabana compound – which has no vegetation and is completely surrounded by a concrete wall. Solution: search around a bit and find a few bits of 2×4 that somebody must have been using as part of a construction project. Fire is back on track and dinner is saved!

In the end the porkchops were perfect.

The whole meal was MUCH better than whatever we were going to get at the roadside restaurant down the highway . . .

Okay. Squash. There’s a lot of rich discussion here. 

Do you know why we buy and eat so much squash here? Because they sell it in little pieces. You can buy half a squash, or a quarter squash, or, as we do these days, even an eighth of a squash. They just take a knife or a saw or whatever and hack a piece off and give it to you. The rest just sits there waiting for the next person to ask for their share. 

Imagine doing that in the U.S. You can’t. Because they won’t do it. Because, I think, some inspector person would go berserk. Food safety and all. For my part, I think the world is a lot better off the Latin American way. After all, squash is good for you. And you kind of have to cook it to eat it – so are you really going to get sick from cut-up squash sitting around? 

Moving on . . .

Today’s song:

Fall is in the Air (not Love is in the Air – sounds too sappy. I never listen to sappy songs…)

Fall is in the air. Everywhere we look around.

In every sight and every sound. 

And I don’t know if we’re being foolish,

Don’t know if we’re being wise,

But Patagonia – we believe in,

I think it’s there – just over the rise.

Fall is in the air. In the fading of the trees.

Fall is in the air. In the thunder of the seas.

And I don’t know if we’re just dreaming.

Don’t know if we feel safe.

But Patagonia – we believe in,

And it’s there when the south wind blows

Fall is in the air . . .

Fall is in the air . . .

We seriously did hit autumn today. Cold winds blowing. Out of the south. So strange. But that’s the way of it down here . . .

Love the crisp feel to the fall air. 

And really love the feeling that we’re back in the land of seasons. That whole middle part of the planet – it’s okay to visit now and then I guess. But not having seasons – I’m not sure I could deal with that in the long term. I think all of us in Europe and Canada and the U.S. sometimes forget how lucky we are in this regard. I mean, even Houston is at like 34 degrees north latitude – about the same as Santiago. So even Houston has some seasonality. And, obviously, we have much more in Minnesota . . . The perfect amount, if you ask me . . .

Of course, the problem with fall when you’re on a bike is that fall leads to winter. And, of course, traveling north-south just exacerbates that problem. 

Which brings me to our next decision tree. We were planning to head to Osorno – in Chile’s lakes region – and then bike over the Andes into Argentina and down to Ushuaia. But then Felipe – of geodome fame – told us that he had recently traveled to Caleta Tortel – which is down in the crazy fjords and glaciers and volcanoes and archipelago part of Chile – and then he took a two-day ferry through the fjords to Puerto Natales. I guess you see whales and orcas and stuff. Sounds amazing.

So now we’ve changed plans once again. Forget the ride over the Andes. We – or, rather, Diana, just purchased ferry tickets. There’s only one ferry per week – so we bought ours for three weeks from now. 

It’s 999 miles to Caleta Tortel – meaning about 50 miles per day on average. We’ll have about another week of “Central” Chile and the Chile Lakes District – and then we head to the crazy part of the country. I don’t know where Patagonia officially starts – but my sense is that it should be getting crazy beautiful here pretty soon . . .

You know what rhymes with crazy beautiful? Super unpredictable weather. Could be windy – although I think that’s more on the Argentina side. Could be rainy. Could be cold. But my sense is that with all that water around the temperatures aren’t going to vary much – probably in the 40-50 range most of the time once we get down there . . . Good weather for penguins . . .

Oh, and after the ferry drops us off in Puerto Natales we will have about 500 miles left in order to reach Usuaia. Will be mid-April by then – which equates to our mid-October in Minnesota – except we’ll be about as far south as International Falls is north . . .

Nervous and excited. 

There’s not exactly a ton of people living in this whole part of the world. So we’re going to need our camping gear.

And the good news is that the package has been delivered. That’s right. It’s out of DHL’s hands. A small miracle!!!

The not-so-good news . . . DHL wouldn’t let us change the delivery address – so the stuff was delivered to our friend Maria’s cousin Rodrigo’s house in Santiago. Fortunately, Rodrigo has been awesome throughout this whole ordeal and Rodrigo and his wife shipped the package to Orsono. It should be there waiting for us when we arrive in a few days. Fingers crossed (is that a thing in Latin America?).

We’ll see – but we are like little kids on Christmas Eve. Can’t wait to tear that package open . . .

Tomorrow – we are diverging from the main highway to check out the lakes district. It’s a little bit of a long haul but we’re hoping to make it to the town of Villaricca on Lagos Villarrica. 

Did I mention that the riding has been really nice? A little bit more rolling today – but nothing too crazy hill-wise. Pine trees, pretty rivers, and bucolic scenes have made for some very pleasant days. On the not-quite-as-good side, though, we did bike through a lot of fire-damaged landscape today. Reader Mike T warned us of this months ago – when, I think, the fires were still raging. But didn’t seem real then . . . I guess something happening thousands of miles away in a place you’ve never been can seem like it’s happening on a different planet . . . Well, we’re here to tell you – it’s real alright . . .

That’s the news from this wonderful part of Chile. Send us a line – we love to hear from you . . .