El Viento

Refugio ? – San Sebastian, Tierra del Fuego, Chile

The breezes develop unchecked for thousands of miles out in the Antarctic before coming ashore in Tierra del Fuego.

There are no trees for miles around. 

There are no hills or ridges to block the wind.

By the time it reaches us – biking along with our completely non-aerodynamic rigs – the gales have worked up some serious momentum. 

And when it comes out of the west/southwest, as today’s wind does, it has a freshness that can only be described as glacial.

Which is why it was a good thing that we were heading due east. Pretty much exactly with the wind. 

Wow. For all the more complaining we do when the wind is against us, you have to give credit where credit is due. And when this chilly Chile wind is at your back it is magical. Pushing us along at 25 miles per hour with hardly any effort at all. In fact, the main effort was in steering – because in the occasional sections where we veered one way or the other a little bit the cross wind was wicked. 

But the other thing about going with the wind . . . It’s way warmer. Now let’s say that the wind is going 30 miles per hour. And you’re going 5 miles per hour into the wind. That’s a net 35 miles per hour of cold wind in your face. But, on the other hand, let’s say you are going 25 miles per hour with the wind. Well, then you just have a net 5 miles per hour gentle breeze at your back. (I’ll have to remember to incorporate all of this into my next math lesson. Remember, I used to be a math teacher – and I love math. We could even do a real-life lesson with the kids and bring them biking. That’s a lesson you won’t soon forget . . .)

Anyway, we were in the net five category today. 

Except when we occasionally stopped to go pee or change clothes or something. During those intervals we were subjected to the full gales of the Austral October . . .

And we had to do some serious clothing changes. Because getting dressed at the Refugio came with kind of the anti-Popo’s Driveway Effect. I mean, the air temperature might have been 40 or so, but with the wind whipping through the broken windows it felt more like zero. 

The only good thing? Our clothing bags were very light when we headed out this morning – because we were literally wearing everything . . .

But maybe I skipped ahead too far. Because last night was interesting as well . . . Remember, we set up our tent in the refugio with the broken windows and doors and the hole in the roof where the stovepipe used to stick out. 

It was all good until about 10 or so. And then the wind began to kick up, and it started to rain. And it turns out that it is actually worse to be in a building with broken windows and a hole in the ceiling than outside in a situation like this. Because if there is any accumulation of rain it doesn’t soak into the grass – it just builds up on the floor and pretty soon your tent is floating around in the broken refugio. And the wind – well, when it comes through the windows it seems to have a channeling effect that is worse than outside normally. Like if you’ve been in a big downtown area on a windy day . . . Worse, when you set up your tent inside you can’t stake it down – so it’s just caving in in the wind. 

Fortunately, there were two small saving graces here . . . 

First, it really didn’t rain much. Just kind of spit at us to let us know that it could rain if it felt like it. So the tent was never floating around . . .

Second, having seen the forecast, and having experienced our terrible night in the wind a few weeks ago, I stopped at the ferretería – hardware store – yesterday morning, and picked up some string so that I could tie the tent down. I ended up mooring the rain fly to the broken window sashes – so at least the tent had a little stability. 

But, wow. Not a relaxing evening . . .

Still, we managed to take stuff down and have a nice hot coffee and oatmeal breakfast before we headed out. With plenty of cream and butter and sugar to add some calories – and maybe some blubber to keep us warm. (After being down here a bit, we can see why these arctic creatures – penguins and whales and such – develop such a nice layer to keep them warm . . .)

Okay – now skipping back to San Sebastian – our destination for the day. 

We arrive at the hostería – I guess kind of like a hostel, but with a restaurant type facility as well. We are famished – but, ironically, with the wind we arrived too early for lunch. Our host – Jimena – doesn’t start serving lunch until 12:30 and it’s only like 11:30. So we have some hot cocoa and empeñadas and such – and then we ask her about the penguins. 

Jimena knows everyone. She calls her friend Arturo, who runs the town tow truck, and he says he thinks he can give us a ride to the penguin colony in a few hours. She also calls the people who run the penguin colony tours or whatever and gets us a reservation to take a tour. 

She shows us to our room. It’s interesting. There is no heat, and when we ask her she says the heat comes on at 6 p.m. Makes sense, I guess. I mean, in general there’s nobody around during the day . . . And we’re saved by two factors. One, incredibly nice, hot showers. And, two, big thick wool blankets. 

Let’s pause here for a second. Hot showers. Seems like such an obvious thing. But hot showers with real hot water – like where you need to add some cold water at first or you can’t even get in the shower stream – and where there is a strong enough stream of water that the water is still hot by the time it reaches your feet – now showers like that are incredibly rare in this part of the world. But oh so welcome. Especially after being in the wind and elements for so long . . .

And then the wool blankets. So nice. And, really, there ought to be lots of wool around here because the only thing more common than guanaco down here are sheep . . . Anyway, I crawled right under the wool blanket after my nice hot shower. I think it was two hours later that I emerged from the deepest sleep that I have had in months. 

So nice.

Sadly, though, there must have been a traffic accident or something because it turned out Arturo couldn’t give us a ride to the penguins. But no worries. With the billion miles per hour winds we were a little ambivalent about seeing them today anyway – and I guess you can get a penguin tour in Ushuaia – so we still have that to look forward to . . .

Well, the wind is supposed to die down by tomorrow. Won’t be with us anymore, but shouldn’t be a big factor for the next few days. 

The plan is to head over the border to Argentina, and then make our way down the Atlantic – Atlantic! – to the coastal town of Rio Grande. Hopefully, after my Power Nap and a night in the hostería we’ll be refreshed and ready to roll . . .