Austral adventures

The ``First Year of ALMA Science'' meeting was held Dec 12-15 in Puerto Varas, a small town in Southern Chile.  Farther south than I had traveled before, I decided to take a few extra days before the meeting to explore Puerto Varas and the surrounding region.  I'll leave the science out, and tell you about my pre-meeting adventures here.

Day 1:
Flying south, I had chosen a window seat on the side of the Volcano Osorno, and I had a sneak preview of the dramatic natural setting I would be exploring.  Once we descended below the clouds, I noticed the incredible green hues that colored the rolling hills.  Later in the morning, arriving to the Hostal Erika where I would be staying in Puerto Varas, I was greeted by Erica herself and invited inside to enjoy what they call here "desayuno alemán" (German breakfast), including home-made bread and kuchen.  Beautiful landscapes, hospitality and delicious food, so far everything I had heard of Southern Chile was true.

First view of the Volcano Osorno

Fueled by the kuchen, I assembled my bike (yes, I brought my bike from Santiago), and Erica began explaining where I might want to visit.  For my first day, I decided on an afternoon ride to Frutillar, a town about 30 km northwest of Puerto Varas along the "Ruta del Lago", a scenic route that circles the Lago Llanquihue.

I noticed the wildflowers along the roadside, and envisioned myself cycling through the Texas hill country, and the beautiful scenery allowed me to enjoy even the uphill sections just a little bit.  Until one steep climb, when I heard a snap, and suddenly stopped progressing.  My chain.  Fortunately, I was just a few kilometers from Frutillar, my destination, so I continued onward, walking all but the downhills, which I coasted on my bike.

Frutillar is home of the kuchen.  Erica told me that the german-descendent residents began opening their houses as bed-and-breakfasts to tourists and competing to serve the best kuchen, so of course I took a break to enjoy a kuchen and a coffee as I waited for the bus back to Puerto Varas.  Sunday afternoon in little Frutillar, there was no way to fix the chain, so I loaded my bike into the front row of the bus, paid two fares, and enjoyed a leisurely "ride" home.  I think I was the only one in the bus who even noticed the incredible view of the Volcano Osorno across the lake, but at least it distracted me from worrying about what to do with the bike.

The volcano, peeking through the clouds, and the sailboats.

In fact, I needn't worry.  I stopped at the first shop I saw in Puerto Varas, and asked if they had a bike technician. The answer was no, but in fact one of the guys in the shop knew how to fix bikes anyways, and brought his tools to the sidewalk where he fixed my chain on the spot, and tuned my brakes!

With the sun still shining, nearing the longest day of the year here in the southern hemisphere, I fit in a quick evening swim in the lake, feeling like I was complementing my tour around the lake by now jumping in.  Day 1, I ended refreshed and rejuvenated for what I hoped would be a longer ride, chain intact on Day 2.  In retrospect, I realize the best thing that could have happened on Day 1 was a broken chain, because it put the idea in my head that the next day I could ride out of town, point-to-point, and take a bus home.  Day 2, I would cover some ground.

Day 2:
Destination Ensenada, 45 km from Puerto Varas in the other (east) direction around the lake.  The first 10 km I rode along a designated bike lane, and another approximately 20 km with a shoulder marked for bikers only, this was a leisurely ride with fewer hills than yesterday, and luckily less stress on the chain.  Arriving to where I expected to take a break in Ensenada, I just about passed through before realizing that the few cabañas and small restaurants were in fact the town.  Then I remembered Erica, the inn-keeper, who had told me I might as well continue to Petrohue, and I realized what she meant.

Saltos de Petrohué

10 km more, I arrived to the Saltos de Petrohué, waterfalls and rapids passing through black volcanic rock formations, with the Volcano Osorno looming above.  Onward 6 km to Petrohué, the next (non-) town on my journey.  Petrohué is at Lago Todos Los Santos (All Saints Lake), with a ferry across to another town en route to the Argentina border.  The ferry had already embarked for the day, so I enjoyed a break on a peaceful rock by the lakeside, and turned back.

Petrohué, and the rocky beach where I took a break.

At the bottom of the hill, I came to a split in the road, and made the choice to take the road I hadn't taken from Puerto Varas; in other words, heading farther away in search of a town called Cochamó, which for some reason had caught my attention on the map. 46 km, but I thought if I got tired, I could stop in Ralun, which I knew nothing about except for the signs that said it was 30 km on the way to Cochamó.  A good option, just in case, until I pedaled through it, (non-)town number 3 on my journey today.  Leading to Ralun was a substantially long down hill, which I enjoyed at this point, and which made me think that I must have been climbing previously without noticing.

Some other travelers along the way.

Ralun to Cochamó began with a sign that said something about a "narrow, winding road for the next 16 km".  Since I hadn't seen much traffic, I thought this was okay, and in fact reading between the lines I realized this meant "incredible views for the next 16 km".  This section was along a river, or maybe another lake, with the road winding along the hillside, and the sunlight striking the green hills just right.

Promiseland, it seems.  Ralun to Cochamó.

When a bus began to approach, I was at first somewhat surprised that any large vehicle could even navigate the narrow, dirt road, thinking also that it was the only bus I had seen for some time now.  6 pm, about 1 km outside of Cochamó, when I read that the sign on the bus said Puerto Varas, I flagged it down and asked if another bus would be coming through.  No, the driver told me, this was the last bus to Puerto Varas.  I had no choice, but to tell him I needed to get on the bus.  His assistant hopped off the bus, swiftly loaded my bike into the cargo area, and I boarded the bus, only to walk down the aisle and realize I was still wearing my helmet and bike gloves, but no one even seemed to notice.

I never saw Cochamó.  During the bus ride home, I reflected on my journey, and I realized that if the bus ride took 1 hour 40 minutes to return to Puerto Varas, my adventure pedaling to that point in the road where I met the bus had been a sufficiently long one.  And, in fact, Cochamó was just a point on the map that gave my journey a destination, but the real goal was the journey itself.

I realized that there are moments in my life that merit an audible, "Wow!" Alone and in awe of my surroundings I had several of these moments that day.  There are also moments when I come to a crossroads and I have to choose whether to turn right, the direction from where I came, or left, the direction I don't know yet.  Today I chose to turn left.  And, when I got tired, I sometimes wished I had turned the other direction, but I kept pedaling.  Maybe towards some dot on the map, maybe towards another bunch of roadside wildflowers, maybe uphill or maybe downhill.  Hopefully towards another "wow" moment.

Day 3:
Waking up to cloudy skies and the forecast of rain, but keeping the "journey" theme, I decided to head as far south as possible, this time leaving my bike behind and traveling by bus.  "Rural Bus", it was called.  From Puerto Varas, I took a local bus 20 km to the bus terminal at Puerto Montt, which seems to be the local transportation hub.  At Puerto Montt, I waited at the "rural bus" platform for the next bus to Caleta La Arena, a ferry port that links the Carretera Austral (southern highway).  The bus was crowded, with locals and their shopping bags, which I considered a fun part of the adventure, since we were apparently heading away from all commercial establishments.

Rainy, coastal scene on the "rural bus".

The highway wound along the coast of a Pacific inlet, as the other passengers flagged for the driver to stop when we passed their driveways, schools, and random destinations.  I was the only one still on the bus, aside from the driver and some kid who seemed to be keeping him company, when we arrived at Caleta La Arena, where the road ran into the sea, and a line of cars waited for the next ferry.

A sign for salmon empanadas led me into a little shack-like restaurant with a view of the ferry dock, where a few people were standing by the wood stove, staying warm and dry.  I ordered the empanadas, and watching the rain fall outside the window, feeling cozy within these walls which told the stories of many travelers like myself, I decided that this was an appropriate destination for my journey after all.  I watched the ferry come and go, but I didn't get on, I stayed dry until it was time to catch the same bus back towards Puerto Montt.  The bus driver was amused when I got back on and paid the return fare, but my spanish wasn't sophisticated enough to tell him my new philosophy about journeys and destinations.

So, I took my seat by the window, and I watched as the tempestuous seascapes passed by.  Along the way, a new set of random people from their random bus stops boarded en route to Puerto Montt, where surely they would do their shopping and return.  For them, this was a part of their routine, and for me, it was an exotic adventure, along a dramatic highway to the farthest south latitude I have known.

I returned to Puerto Varas in time for the opening reception of the meeting. I walked into a room of about 200 astronomers, many of whom I knew and others whose names I recognized from scientific papers, and so began the week of mingling, discussing, collaborating, presenting exciting science results from ALMA.  The weather stayed gray during the week, even the volcano obscured by the clouds, so as not to tempt us to come out and explore the beautiful landscapes.  My days of austral anonymity and adventure were over, back to my life as a scientist-in-training.

(More photos here.)