Looking forward to rest in Cochrane, but the only camp ground was the back yard of a stingy woman. The clouds had caught up, the river Baker lost its color and all became grey around us while the pouring rain chased us into the metal shelter of a kitchen sat up for campers in the very back. It was amazingly crowded - mostly backpackers heading to the established treks around the area. It rained so hard we couldn't set up the tent. One of our frenchi friends braved the shower and came back reporting that the warning signs to take a short 10 minute showers were all too hopeful to be true.....the warm water lasted a whole THREE minutes (on a timer - what an investment!) and not a second more before it dumbed cold water all over your sore body. Not even enough time to rinse your hair after shampooing.....(Ophelie headed half dressed from the first to the second shower for a full three minute hair rinse). I felt anger rising. I am usually very outspoken about issues like this, language barrier or not, but I made a conscious decision to cool my jets this time, don't ask me why......I just wanted to focus on peace with me and around me. I just wanted to feel that feeling of letting go in spite of myself and I did! I just rinsed my body until the water temperature changed. I didn't need to wash my hair - had a good hot shower at the campground the night before. Standards get lowered, but I am still ok!
It really wasn't the town "to write home about", but we were able to stock up with plenty of food and head out after two nights rest. Crossed the Rio El Salto ripioing our way to the turn off to Tortel a 46km detour (out and back). James was not convinced at all, but right at the turn off we were confronted with a very steep rutted uphill to continue or a fairly smooth rutted downhill towards Tortel (supposedly mostly flat....) We found another one of our french accountancies at the turn off drinking mate with a Brazilian. The frenchis were all decided to head to Tortel. James and I looked at each other - I really didn't want to go UP that way today ....clouds hanging around up there too. I know I have to do it sooner or later, but why not procrastinate a day? James gave the decision to me and we headed down towards the water and a little village highly recommended for it's unusualness.
Of course the road wasn't all flat and the ruts and ripples gave us more brain scramble. Ok, let's hitchhike our way out tomorrow - we really don't need to do this twice...agreed!
It was suggested by fellow cyclists that we turn off the main road to Tortel towards the airport strip right before climbing over the hill into town. Looking for abandoned wooden sheds to camp. We found a huge shelter for the four of us to camp before it poured down rain. This could almost considered luxury!
We had a scrumptious evening meal and a good night sleep before we explored the town. The frenchis decided to spend another day in one of the overpriced hostels in town and we gave ourselves a couple of hours to find out what this village is all about. James wasn't impressed - I felt kind a neutral about it. It surely wasn't Venice with it's carless wooden walkways snaking their way from building to building right at the edge of the water.
"Caleta Tortel is a lumber town with an intricate walkway system built by the town’s inhabitants which run several kilometres around the cove (“caleta”). Without these walkways, the only way to communicate and travel between houses would be by boat, given the density of the vegetation and the steepness of the hills around the cove.The walkway system has become part of the town’s culture and a local tourist attraction."
The sky cleared enough to reveal some near by glaciers. The highlight for me was the grocery store (could it be any different?) in downtown. "Nature was calling me" again and the kind owner let me use their very own, private bathroom facilities (and yes, it is a very touristy town!). We got some more provisions while I had my eyes on the eggs again. The nice lady behind the counter was ready to sell me half a dozen when I stopped her, explaining that they will not survive the bike ride on that damn ripio out there waiting for me.....though I would love some eggs....She talked me into it, securing the raw eggs in carton and wrapping the bejesus out of them with clear tape.....I was highly skeptical to say the least! But she was just too confident and nice to say "no" to. James wasn't having any of it....though I knew he would enjoy the eggs if they should survive.
Not too impressed with our outing we went to fetch our bikes at the edge of town, hugging our frenchis good bye for the second time - this time we knew though we would probably not see them again on this tour, since they were heading to Punta Arenas to do a trek and we were heading to the eastern shore - the Atlantic coast after surviving the Carretera.
We saw some hitchhikers in the morning when we came into town- they were still sitting on the same spot by the middle of the day....surely didn't look good to hitch a ride today. All of two cars (no trucks) passed us on our 26km ride back to the C. Austral (yes, the sign said 23km, but it was 26km one way- which makes it a 52km detour!) - It took us about a bit more than two hours to get back to the main road and that damn hill we knew was waiting for us.
Another one of those days when James and I both feel comfortable to agree to "cheat" and wound up riding the whole thing anyways.
