The Missing Link…  So how far off the beaten path are you willing to travel?  Regardless of where most tourists go, I’m yet to even find a map that shows a linkage of roads along the Chilean coast from La Serena to Caldera.  But that didn’t stop us.  Google Earth showed a maze of tiny roads that fizzled out into a coastal mountain range.  During the scout it took me several attempts to find the passage, but my challenge now was to lead this group of courageous peddlers back through it.

  Our first day out of La Serena began on the Panamericana Norte.  It was paved, scenic, but there was a 14km climb with 600m of elevation gain mid day.  The final stretch of the day took us down a dirt road to the remote town of Punta Choros, a windswept fishing village with fabulous seafood, but also a popular tourist destination for viewing the sea lion and penguin colonies or whales during migration.  And this is the point where on all maps the roads end.

We began our second day with an 8km convoy through a myriad of intertwining sand tracks.  Pick your line!  Some were corrugated, some were ankle deep beach sand, none of them were easily cycled, but it was only 8km.  The majority of the day was spent on a relatively smooth road with great tailwinds, but the unforeseen challenge of the day was the last 20km.  It was a mining access road with a loose surface and a long gradual climb.  As we progressed up this road the surrounding mountains closed in around us until we found ourselves riding through a spectacular slot canyon barely wide enough for our support vehicles to pass.  Our destination, El Higuero, at least that’s what I think it’s called; there were certainly no welcome signs.  It’s a ghost town, leftover from the mining boom 80 years ago.  The southern end of which had been buried by landslide.  What remains are a few roofless houses of dry stone or adobe walls, a plethora of rusty tin artifacts and a cemetery.  Perhaps the creepiest cemetery I have ever visited.  Most of the graves had been desecrated and broken open, skulls and human bones scattering the ground.  I can’t imagine that many gringos have ever set foot in this place let alone pitched a tent and spent the night.

Our third day was perhaps the most challenging day of the tour so far; over 2000m of vertical climbing on very rough roads.  But what goes up must come down.  Our support vehicle had to detour because the switchbacks were tighter than its turning radius.  Once again two wheels prove to be superior.  Navigation was not easy either as there were many dead end forks leading to remote communities or new mining developments.  And of course, the smooth road is never the right road.  As we descended back towards the ocean we rejoined the pavement for the last 25 km only to be hit in the face with a gale force headwind all the way to our picturesque beach camp.  What a day!  But this group seems to thrive on the challenge, invigorated by facing the elements.  

Yesterday was a long stretch beginning along the coast and gradually moving inland passing some bizarre geologic formations.  We have now entered the true Atacama Desert, the driest place on earth, yet ironically situated on the shore of the Pacific Ocean, the largest body of water on earth.  Today we rest in Caldera a quaint port famous for smuggling weapons into this region during the war of the pacific.   But a hot shower, a good night’s sleep, some delicious fish, a fine glass of wine and an internet café makes this stop more than luxurious.

From here we will continue along the coast to Antofagasta, where we turn inland and begin our acclimatization for the Altiplano where we will face extremely harsh conditions; altitudes of 4800m, subzero temperatures, lack of food and water supplies, blistering sun and relentless winds.  Vuelta…

It was the  enviable perfect cycling day. A crisp early wake up with cyclist rugging up in their layers, but I am a bit freakish and enjoy the chilly mornings especially when I can sit with a steaming cup of coffee and watch the sun rays hit the bare hills that surrounded our mountain camp. The dark, dull brown treeless hillsides were instantly transformed with hues of bright pinks and oranges as the day brightened, a sign of the hours ahead.

It began with over 20km downhill on a paved trafficless wide road taking us deep into the twisting valleys. Crossing a bridge we followed the gushing river, the road tumbling and turning as much as the icy waters travelling below us. A bit of gravel, a bit of pavement, a head wind, a tail wind, no wind, cold in the shadows, hot in the sun. We were teased at every turn, especially with the thought of when would we see the origin of the river, when would the Andes finally come into view?

Turning another random bend along the road and unexpectedly the river valley opened and the entire horizon was filled with snow capped mountains. Stunning. Our views were no longer barred in by the valley walls but now our eyes could relax on the backdrop of the Andes, jagged peaks flanking the plains, strutting high into the cloudless  blue sky. There was no interruption to the mountain range, no
distractions, no car horns or impatient engine rumbles.

It was a Sunday, which always feels different in South America. People are that little bit more happy and relaxed as few work and most try to spend the day with their families. So as I pedalled along there were the waves and greetings of locals as they gathered for a long lunch. On the outskirts of one town the weekend horse races were underway. I
stopped for a chat and a beer with the Ramirez family who were perplexed to the thought of why someone would choose to cycle over the Andes and tried to convince me of the virtues of swapping my bike for a horse.

As I left the races I was joined by a couple of local road cyclists. They had obviously been inspired by the competition and thrashed me riding up a steep little hill but stopped shortly afterwards for a chat and a laugh before continuing on their way, their motorbike support vehicle puttering along behind.

Closer into town the plains became more fertile with small family farms extending along the banks of the river. I didn’t know where to focus, on my left there yelling and screaming as two young kids ran barefoot through the paddocks, jumping fences as they tried to keep pace with the bike. In front the street was framed by huge willow trees, branches drooping to touch the path. And all afternoon there
were the Andes, patiently watching from the west. I love the feelings in the mountains, the unpredictability that at any second this could all change the sun could disappear and I could be pummelled by gale force icy winds or be caught in a snow storm. But today there would be nothing. It was the perfect day, sharing moments with locals, cycling peaceful roads overseen by a tranquil mountain range.

  -- Marlo Perry

Pushing those pedals through grey sand and rocks for 72 km on a winding and hilly off road, the riders are at one with this stunning Chilean terrain. They do not only see the mountains on their right (east as we go north up the coast) and the Pacific Ocean on their left but they experience them in their full majesty.

Muscles are sore, bodies are tired and yet, glimpsing sight of the camping area thrills.

We have reached a true Ghost Town. El Higuero is where there was once a small miners’ settlement and it was abandoned many years ago. Virtually no one comes here anymore.
That is, except for our adventurous group of cycling explorers!
Isolated from any highways or local traffic, we are in a setting of 8 or 9 ruins dating from around 1870. The stone buildings have no roofs and the wooden and stone crosses marking the graves in the little stone walled cemetery (yes, there is a cemetery in our ghost town…spooky but hey, we’re fearless…) are wind worn but still standing.

As each rider pitched their tent alongside the crumbled walls of the ruins, for some protection from the wind, individuals called out “Hey, I found an old helmet-a miner’s helmet? It is rusty and cracked and very old-who know how many years it’s been here?”

Another picks up some turquoise and blue rocks that are scattered all over the area and we realize together that the greenish-blue is oxidized copper (many copper, silver and gold mines in northern Chile and not far from here) and the blue ones are probably lapis.

We cycle through a rocky desert and turns out we are surrounded by precious metals and stones! The riders’ discipline and persistence brings them rewards and treasures …of many different kinds.

--  Ruth Schonblum

There are many moments when you question what you are doing, cycling for 4.5 months through South America, these usually occur when you pack up your wet tent at 6.30am and set off in the rain on a flat paved road flanked by non-descript fields or when you are cycling on a jutted gravel road with sand patches and surrounded by thorn bushes.
There were no doubts in our minds as to what we were doing as we left Cordoba and entered the Central Sierras (the second highest mountain range in Argentina). The road followed a river valley and then started to climb and changed to gravel as it twisted and turned along the mountain range. We travelled north west from Cordoba and then south to San Juan with the scenery changing from cattle pastures, to barren craggy dry mountains, down a hair raising pass to flat thornbush veld, thick at first and then as the terrain turned more desert-like, with only the thorn bushes surviving in this harsh terrain. We arrived in the fertile (although dry in winter) valley of San Juan with kms of vineyards and orchards, keen to taste the products of the vineyards! From San Juan we started to climb again, back to desert, mountain terrain, a steady slow ascent out of town and then a long road, flanked by mountains, lunch at an abandoned train station and then the start of some more serious ascents....the days to come would entail steady increases in altitude from 640m in San Juan to our peak of 3200m at the border crossing with Chile. We dont necessarily know what the exact terrain and extent of the climbs until the day before, the next day we had an exhilirating 20km descent down to a river and then followed the valley through the foothills of the Andes, at last catching our first glimpse of the sow peaked Andes range.



We continued on good gravel road through small towns of Calingasta and Barreal, a fertile valley and a small oasis after 100´s of kms of little life (human, animal or plant) and overnight accommodation at a homely hostel, a pleasant surprise considering we thought we were bushcamping! We set off the next day in good spirits taking the back roads out of town and then a good gravel road with snow capped mountains our prima vista.....and then it changed to jutted gravel road for 80km with a few patches of bad paved road. At lunch time there were a number of us who questioned whether to carry on but I thought I would continue a little longer and jump on lunch truck when it came past. We cycled in silence for some time, holding back the urge to curse or cry and then I looked up and saw my cycling parter silhouetted in front of the Andes and thought, wow, this is beautiful, this is why we are here, there is no reason to complain. I continued the full 80km on gravel, with a fabulous tail wind, a long head thumping/butt grinding dowhill and then silky smooth paved downhill, pushing us at 40km+ down to Uspallata.

The next day we were heading up the Andes to Parque de Aconcagua, staying at Puenta del Inca, a ski resort, at 2700m and the base of the Aconcagua Trek (in summer). We were on a busy truck highway, being the main thoroughfare between Chile and Argentina. It was tough going mainly due to the cold, as there were plenty of descents to allow us to rest from the ascents. We had set off early to avoid the potential strong winds and only had 70kms planned for the day. After lunch (before 10am!) it was more of a steady climb and I could feel the affects of the altitude (I am a coastal girl after all), my legs felt heavy so frequent stops...for photots were necessary. We stopped at Lamas Biancas ski resort for coffees and watched the skiing - what were we doing cycling??? A short climb up to our hostel and relaxing lunch (2pm) in the sun, much like a skiing holiday! The predicted wind did pick up in the early afternoon making it tough going for the last 10km or so.... and forced us indoors to keep warm and enjoy hot milk with melted chocolate bombs - a chilean delight.



Our last day in the Andes (for now) and we were all quite nervous, we needed to be trucked to the border through a treacherous tunnel (Cyclists not allowed), border crossing (which was endless searches of bags and truck for 30 people, it took 3.5hours) and then the most exhilirating ride down the mountain, countless switchbacks, speed records broken (not by me!) for 25kms....just beautiful!!!

We cruised into San Pedro, a beautiful fertile valley - vineyards, olive groves, peach trees in blossom, walnut trees and stayed at a serene campsite with natural spring, our last night before Santiago....and a few bottles of Argentian wine to polish off before we start tasting the Chilean!




Its not goodbye to the Andes just yet!

    - Natasha Barker

There are times when, as a staff member on one of TDA’s illustrious cycling Tours, it’s important to remove oneself from the day to day grind and find peace, or at least some kind of quiet, or at the very least a dark place to be slothful.  This is how Hatice and I found ourselves leaving the ambitious cyclists and fellow staff of the Vuelta SudAmericana, in Santiago, and venturing off on our own for some R&R.   We didn’t venture far.  We took the subway to another neighborhood of the city.  To anyone who has been to Santiago before they may know that the Subway system is immaculate.  The tile work is very 1960/70’s brownish hazy hopeful socialist style.  It made me think of the Metro lines in Montreal, and my mind wandered into thinking whether the engineers/architects of these two distant subways may have had some relation.  At one point there was even the thought in my mind to actually research this curiosity, but as of yet it hasn’t happened, so I’m still pleasantly believing that the two subway lines have some affinity with each other.  By the way there is really no particular way to describe what brownish hazy hopeful is, and I wouldn’t want to finger socialism as an inspiration for the Santiago subway system, though perhaps any kind of public transportation system is intrinsically for the people/socialist in nature.  Regardless, the wall art/graffiti in Santiago is joyous and full of political intrigue, and could also lead one to believe that the city is romancing the left (though in most other aspects it appears to be the most commercial/corporate city in South America, so forget everything I’ve said)   Anyway, Santiago is a great city for cycling, there is a river which runs through the city and lush parks line each side of it.  Bicycle paths loop their way through these parks, allowing cyclists to reach their destinations safely (though to cycle on the roads, as in most cities requires patience and much alertness in traffic)  To conclude, though I’ve barely started and have said very little…
After moving everyday for almost 4 months (cooking on cycling tours) stopping in one place for even a couple of days can feel like being marooned on an island (luckily one where my wife is also marooned, the wine is splendid, there are busses that can take you anywhere you want to go, satellite television so you can watch bollywood movies into the wee hours, a hardcover copy of Roberto Bolanos’ final book (a Chilean author recently deceased) Well… I forget what the point of this paragraph was, but in essence, Chile is a wonderful country, so if you get a chance, hop on a bike and ride your way across it (or just laze around Santiago, you won’t regret it)

Van Cordoba naar San Juan. Hoe moet ik deze 5 dagen omschrijven of in woorden uitdrukken?
Sectaculair? Mooi? Overweldigend? Awesome? Kippenvel?
Ik weet het niet. Ik kan het eigenlijk niet in woorden uitdrukken.
Ik maak fotoÅ› en films bij elke bocht met weer een ander schitterend uitzicht. Ik kan er gewoon niet mee stoppen. Maar zal ik ooit precies kunnen weergeven hoe ik het nu in het echt zie? Ik denk het niet. En toch wil ik  proberen jullie iets mee te geven van wat ik hier beleef, zie, voel en ervaar.



De omgeving en uitzichten zijn werkeljk spectaculair deze dagen. We fietsen 3 dagen over Dirt Road. at betekent gravel, zand, kuilen, etc. Het gode nieuws is dat er minimaal verkeer is. Heel zo nu en dan eens een auto en that´s it. De bergen met de haarspeldbochten geven na iedere bocht weer een ander kippenvel moment. Voor mij en ver in de diepte ligt het dal. De srakblauwe hemel daarboven. Het is helder zodat ik zo ver kan kijken als ik wil. Naast mij de bergwanden, achter mij de haarspeldbochten van de Dirt Road die ik net geklommen heb. Nu volgt de beloning; de afdaling. Na elke bocht stop ik. Ik wil hier wel uren blijven, maar ik moet toch weer naar de volgende bush camping vandaag. Dus toch weer verder.


Ik voel me klein en nietig in dit geweld.
En dan, dan zie ik hoog boven mij een enorme vogel zweven. Het zal toch niet he. Het zal toch niet een Condor zijn? Ik weet het niet.
Een maatje fiets me achterop en stopt natuurljk ook. We kijken samen naar de vogel. Hij komt steeds dichterbij en dichterbij en maakt cirkels boven ons. Het lijkt wel of hij nieuwsgierig is wie we zijn. Hij is op een gegeven moment zo dichtbij dat ik het gevoel heb dat ik hem kan aanraken. Ik zie z´n kop, vleugels, kleuren. Hij is zo groot als ikzelf. Het is een Condor!
Dan heeft ie genoeg gezien en gaat er weer vandoor; met de thermiek omhoog. Waaauw!
Heb ik hier woorden voor? Eigenlijk niet. Maar het gevoel is overweldigend.   Groet van een zeer dankbare,   Dirk van Asselt Alias El Leon.   

We set off from Cordoba for 5 day stretch to San Juan and bush camping was the accommodation for 4 nights. We were looking forward to hitting the start of hills and what promised to be stunning scenery of the Sierras. Little regard was given to the weather and wind conditions as our minds were set on leaving the flat boring paved roads experienced from BA to Cordoba ...and tailwinds.



Our first camping site was Bush camp 1 along a dirt highway with strong winds buffettingthe tufts of grass. I was on the truck due to a nasty chest cold but all hands needed to pitch kitchen tent in the gale force wind. The wind died down and with the sun out it was a glorious afternoon and just a few minutes walk away was a kiosk with coffee, beer, wine, chocolate and toilets! As the day drew to an end, the temperature dropped dramatically, the wind picked up as we headed to bed around 8pm and during the night we experienced thunderstorms and then complete calm with full moon lighting up the surrounding hills. Next morning the temperatures were sub zero and a fine mist covered the area and drenched our tents as we packed up and headed off.



Bushcamp 2 was located in a yard outside a 17th century Jesuit church and school and a step up with toilets. Whilst it felt more sheltered, it was a clear night and bitterly cold as we settled in our tents for the night around 7.30pm! A few rebels walked the half km back to town only to return at 8.30pm! We woke to frost on our tents and bitterly cold temperatures...breakfast had moved to 8am so we could get ready in light and when warmer. I didnt want to leave the warmth of my sleeping bag and tent but the sun was shining and I felt better so with several layers from head to toe we set off for a 9km climb with spectacular scenery and then a magnificent 16km descent surrounded by shadowy mountains. Yes, the road was rocky and the wind bitingly cold but the sun was shining, the terrain mountainous - one of my perfect cycling days!!! The next 70'km was straight dirt road with sandy patches which kept you on your toes/pedals I should say, lose concentration and one could find oneself stacking and covered in dust! Yes, it happened to me, a hilarious sight and no damage done.



Bushcamp 3 was on the side of the road, now aptly named ´Dust camp´at 96km and you had to be careful of devillish thorns when pitching tent or wandering off from the sandy roadside. Fortunately there was no wind or rain otherwise I am sure we would have had gloomy faces, just a mangificent sunset and a brillian starlit sky and absolute silence, only 1 car passed in the night!

Bushcamp 4 was set to be in the desert and at the bottom of a descent at around 120km ...there would clearly need to be an ascent! After 5km of dirt road we welcomed the smooth paved road and enjoyed mountains and desert scenery to lunch at 70km. We kept a steady pace line in the afternoon with Gerhard, Jurgen and Hans with frequent photo and rest stops to appreciate the view and a short climb before descending to our oasis...desert camp. An early enough arrival to enjoy the surrounding mountains, clean bike, change tyres and relax over a few drinks before dinner at 6pm - osso bucco - our chef Miles certainly looks after us with delicious varied meals followed by campfire aand a few stories regaled to the newcomers.

I realised we were a third of the way through the full tour and couldnt believe it had gone so quickly yet we still had huge challenges ahead. Another evening with amazing stars and silence.



We woke to a beautiful morning and sunrise and back on flatish (we thought) paved road. It was steady slow incline to lunch. The afternoon session was broken up with coffee con leche and ice cream at the gas staion ( a huge attraction for weary cyclists) and a tree lined road surrounded by vineyards and mountains. It was pretty warm so we were not tempted to stop for wine tasting and a hot shower in a hotel room was much more appealing after 4 days of bush camping!

We had one rest day in San Juan, wine region not quite as popular/well known as Mendoza, but I can attest to the wine being of excellent quality with several opportunities to appreciate Viognier over the Chardonnay and the Cab Sav over the Syrah...but I cant remember the vineyards. We frequented our favourite coffee shop Bonafida (Vida cafe equivalent) and wine bar and savoured the tastes of Argentina at a classy restaurant (El Sanchez) with excellent steaks as well as the local restaurant for empanadas. the cycling and outdoor shops continue to enjoy our custom as we stock up on parts and warmer clothes and look forard to next 6 hilly days to Sangitago Chile - Adios!

   - Natasha Barker

One of the most noticeable and curious thing when you bike (or drive) anywhere in Argentina are small shrines dedicated to miracle worker and healer Gaucho Gil.

It appears and depending which guide books you read that Gaucho Gil was a sort of Argentinean 19th century Robin Hood who refused to fight in a civil war or may have deserted from the army, robbed from the rich and gave to the poor, until he was caught and promptly executed. Before he was executed he told the executioner that when he goes home, he will find his son gravely ill but again depending of which version you read, Gils blood or proper burial will save the son.

And when the executioner showed up home, there he found his son very ill and did what Gil told him and his son recovered.

Since then many miracles have been assigned to Gil as well as prayers for safe returns and as we travel we see dozens of shrines all smothered with red flags, kerchiefs, plastic bottles (go figure why the plague of 20th century is used as a tribute) and many other gifts.  



We actually had an honor to pass by the place where Gil was supposedly executed about 26km from Mercedes, where a whole village and industry has sprung up in memory of Gaucho Gil. When I stopped there to take a look I found a statue of Gaucho Gil on left side of a church, a statue of Angel of Death on the right side of the church and a church decorated on the wall with everything from bicycles to a gallon or was it 5 gallon of a bottle of Chivas Whisky left by pilgrims. And everywhere I looked there were pilgrims praying and touching the statues.

85km to Los Gigantes and our bush camp in the middle the Sierra de Córdoba. It’s quite beautiful here but for some of us it wasn’t fully appreciated until we got to camp because of the brutal wind conditions we rode through for the last 25 kilometers.

The day started out warm in Córdoba and full of scenic promise. It’s our first real scenic and hilly ride since leaving Buenos Aires and everyone was upbeat and enjoying the morning ride. We ride through lovely towns like San Roque with its beautiful shoreline and rocky cliff sides and through Tanti where we have lunch and the usual après-lunch coffee stop. The morning ride really energizes me for the afternoon ride as well as the upcoming days in the Sierras and the looming Andes. After lunch we expect to ride 25-30km of dirt road, up hill. Okay fine, it’ll take us longer than usual but it’s still early and it’s a gorgeous day of blue sky and great vistas. Two kilometers into the dirt road Jessica, Hans and I find “Brujas” a tiny and charming teahouse where we enjoy coffee, tea and a wee rest before tackling the remainder of the Sierras.

The dirt road was actually fine to ride, simply fine gravel and sand like dirt, some annoying rocks but not too much traffic and the grades weren’t bad at all. The Sierras aren’t that high, we’re at around 1,750 meters at the camp and there are lots of winding switchbacks to get you up. It was the wind. It was raging. I’ve ridden and raced in extremely high winds before but this was grueling. I was hurled into the ditch three times by the winds (aided by fatigue and a serious case of bonking too though I’ll admit) My hands were painful from holding the handle bars too tightly to stay in as much a straight line as possible and upright, my lips and mouth were parched from the dust and lack of water and my right calf was on the verge of cramping for the last 5km. It was so strong we couldn’t go faster than 6kph. There was a tiny but blissful downhill part to the camp on down which we were pushing hard and only going 13kph. But it didn’t matter, we were home.

So, at the end of the day 85km took Jessica and me 5 hours and 45 minutes with an elevation gain of about 1,200 meters from Cordoba. It was truly the toughest 25km of my life, as much physically as emotionally. I wanted to scream and burst into tears several times but I just looked over at Jessica and we both just laughed at the utter ridiculousness of our situation. Seeing the defeated look on my face in camp Dirk confidently says “In 20 minutes you’ll feel much better, no problem.” “Do you promise?” I ask earnestly, “Yes” he replies definitively. And you know what? He was right. The pain, fatigue and frustration always go away and are soon replaced with “Wow, I made it, we’re here and it’s really beautiful. Awesome!” Now we just have to do it all again tomorrow and the next day- awesome.

   - Hannah Spence