The Duluth of the South

Frutilla – Ralimo, Chile

What is with the term “dry run”? 

Like: “We’re going to take a dry run at camping.”

The whole point is to emulate the conditions that you might have to deal with – especially the more challenging conditions. So it seems like what you want is a wet run. But for some reason that term has not caught on . . .

We had a little bit of that in the last 24 hours. It didn’t really rain overnight, and the tent, sleeping pad and bag were all remarkably comfortable. But it did sprinkle a bit as we were packing up and making breakfast. Again, part of our “dry” run.

We wanted to make sure things like the stove worked before we set off into the wilderness . . . 

Before we get into that, a little side note here . . . Remember the few days before we headed into Mexico? Diana and I were just talking about how heading out on the Carretara Austral feels a bit like that. It’s obviously not the same thing; but there is that same sense of the unknown, mixed with some foreboding. In Mexico’s case it was drug cartels and a general sense of lawlessness. Here, it’s the rain and cold and gravel. Hopefully, like Mexico, we can talk afterwards about how worried we were before – but how great it all turned out. 

We’ll see . . .

But back to breakfast. The idea was to make coffee and tea and then eggs. It’s one of those whisper light type stoves where you have a separate gas can; you insert the intake into the can, screw it on, and then pump to add gas pressure to the line. Except, when I went to pump, there was nothing. No pressure – just a piston moving freely in a cylinder. 

Now, you may recall something similar happened to us on our Toronto trip a few years ago. I went to pump up my tire, only to discover that the pump had no pressure. That time I ended up breaking the pump altogether. I tried to add some insulation stuff to create a vacuum, but just ended up gumming up the system and breaking the pump. Not good.

But what was good about that experience? I learned from it. What I learned is that the little felt pad that moves up and down in the cylinder and creates the vacuum that forces air – or in our case now, gas – into the tire or the stove, can dry out. When the pad dries out it shrinks a little, and the shrinkage makes it so there is no more vacuum – because the pad is now too small for the cylinder. 

What I should have done on the Toronto Trip was to wet the felt pad and let it re-expand. 

So this morning – when the pump had no resistance – what did I do? Well, at first I panicked. 

“S—t!”

Then I looked for the little tool that used to be in the camp stove bag. Not there. I must have thrown it out after years of not using it, and, really, having no idea what it was even for . . .

”S—t!”

Okay, let’s try the tools that we do have. Somehow, miraculously, I was able to take the piston apart without wrecking the whole thing. And there it was – a little shrunken felt pad. (I guess it dried out during the transit months while it was stuck in Chile Customs . . .) Play with it a minute and get some gas on it, and, wa la, it’s working again. 

Even bigger miracle: I’m able to put everything back together. 

Coffee, tea, and eggs were excellent! We even finished breakfast before the rain started. 

The rain . . . Exactly what we needed. For our wet run, don’t you know . . .

Raincoats – check. 

Fenders? Hmm. Didn’t have that figured out yet. But, as some readers suggested today, there is another solution. Sadly, what is pretty much always available in Latin America? Big plastic pop bottles. 

Swiss Army Knife makes short work of one of them. A few zip ties later and I have a pretty good rain blocker and Diana can now bike behind me without getting a road shower . . . I guess you could say that I Mungered up a solution . . .

And then a word on Ruta 5 – the main road that we’ve followed, basically across the whole country. We were lamenting this morning that we’ll miss this thoroughfare. Especially since Santiago, Ruta 5 has been like a little raceway for us. Pretty flat. Big shoulder. Seems like the wind is always at our back. And every 30-40 miles there’s a COPEC station – with full-on U.S.-like services. We both like COPEC, but Diana REALLY likes COPEC. The other day, as we approached one along the road, Diana told me how much she likes COPEC blue. I mean, it’s so bad that I sometimes get a little jealous. Who is this COPEC guy anyway? What does he have that I don’t?

Alright, so we’re in Puerto Montt now – after taking our last cruise on 5. (Diana almost started to cry when we finally left the yellow onion road . . .). 

We ended up finding one of Latin America’s little hallways of a bike shop. I wasn’t hopeful – but they were amazing. They found four big tires for us – all tubeless-ready. We also found mittens and some base layers at the Puerto Montt Mall. So we are feeling pretty ready for anything that the Carretera might throw at us. 

Okay – and now to address the title of this piece. Was not expecting much from Puerto Montt – but it was a pretty cool city. On the Reloncavi Sound. Ocean going ships – just like in Duluth. Big hill going down to the water. Nice path along the water. I mean, Puerto Montt’s a little confused in that it has it’s mall right on the water – kind of where Duluth’s Canal Park would sit. But otherwise they are like perfect sister cities. It’s even cloudy and rainy and cool most of the time. 

And then, after we finished with Puerto Montt, we biked along the first ten miles or so of the Carretera – and it feels pretty much exactly like the scenic drive to Two Harbors – even complete with places to buy fresh fish. Plus, as with Lake Superior, the farther you head out on the Carretera, the more remote it gets. 

The Duluth of the South. Fits like a glove. But it had better be a waterproof glove because the rain is coming . . . 

Now that we’re wrapping up with “normal” Chile, I wanted to talk a little about the country and some of our observations. First off, Chile seems to be one of the most advanced countries we’ve seen in terms of tomorrow’s energy sources. We’ve seen lots of wind turbines. Tons of solar. And we’ve even seen some hydro power projects. 

(We interrupt this blog for a special message:

I know that the U.S. is not exactly on fire right now in terms of its energy policies – unless we’re talking the liar, liar, pants on fire brand of fire – but if you are thinking that this might be the year for you to invest in the power of the sun, our daughter Ellie can maybe help you. She works for Sisu Solar. For you skiers out there, yes, it’s like Finn Sisu. Finnish spirit and all . . . Anyway, you can email her if you’re interested. Emunger@sisusolar.com. Lots of blog points at stake here . . . 

She’ll take good care of you. And Diana and I are pretty darn proud of her . . .

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming . . .)

Maybe one of the reasons Chile has a ton of solar is its special relationship with China – Chile’s closest trading partner. We see a ton of China Malls in Chile. As far as we can tell they are basically re-branded dollar stores – and I guess that all the stuff must be from China. 

(Diana is currently mad at me because I bought a razor at the Chinese Mall the other day. When I went to shave today the darn thing didn’t work. Pretty sure the Chinese have no idea how to make real razors because the men don’t have a lot of facial hair. Diana says I should have known that, and that I bought the ineffectual razor intentionally – so that I could keep my beard until Ushuaia – which, she thinks, might be the next opportunity to buy a real razor . . . I guess I appreciate getting that much credit – you have to be pretty smart to be that deceitful . . .)

Forget the Chinese part though, Chile seems to be the biggest country for regular malls in the whole world. As far as we can tell, every even reasonably sized town in Chile has a mall. Filled with American type stores – like Columbia, North Face, Yogurt Lab, Starbucks, Dunkin’, etc. Ironically, we haven’t seen a Patagonia Store . . . 

Basically, it’s like Southdale and Ridgedale got married, had lots of little mall children, and they all married Chilean sweethearts and moved down here . . .

Who knew? 

Well, we’re not expecting anymore covered shopping experiences going forward . . . Just us, and the rain, and the gravel, and the wind, and a whole lot of beauty . . .

Come find us if you haven’t heard from us in like a month . . .