The infernal volcano and unexpected nocturnal visitor

18.3.- 9.4.2024

Futaleufu - Santiago de Chile

I had just arrived in Futaleufu by hitchhiking. I was now cycling towards the nearby border station in the afternoon sunshine. After the border formalities, I had arrived between the mountains in Argentina.

The lush nature had now changed to a dry desert. The forecast still showed heavy rains for tomorrow.

I tried to get as far as possible from Chile, where most of the rain would fall. I drove as far as I could and pitched my tent in a small meadow next to the road in the twilight. I picked up apples for food from the neighboring wild apple tree.

The next day was bitterly cold. I drove a few kilometers to a nearby campsite where it would be nice to keep the rain off. It was located on a small winery.

I now had the opportunity to give my taste buds a taste of local foods. At the same time, I got the opportunity to spend time in warm indoor spaces, which the campsite itself did not offer. I was the only customer in this family owned place.

By nine o'clock in the evening it was pitch dark and the rain was lashing the tent at a steady pace. I was already wrapped up into a warm sleeping bag when I was invited inside for the night. I got my own room and enjoyed myself also a warm shower indoors.

In the morning, the heavy rains were over and I set out to ride the most direct route to El Bolsón. It would start there a mountain bike trail called the Patagonian Beer Trail.

The transition route turned out to be a national park and it was wonderful to see waterfalls and towering mountains up close. So the trip became its own destination.

The wild campsite by the lake and by the rugged mountains was one of the best so far. As the sun went down, I grilled quesadillas for dinner. Shortly after dusk, the starry sky lit up clear to the sky. I laid down in a good back seat to watch this display of the sky and I put on relaxing music for the mood. As one song, e.g. Black Sabbath's Planet Caravan was perfect for this moment.

"

We sail through endless skies

Stars shine like eyes…

"

I woke up at night in pitch darkness from the tent when I heard footsteps approaching. They were very slow moving and I concluded that they belong to a large animal. I couldn't figure out what it could be.

The steps slowly came closer and closer and the heartbeat accelerated at the same pace. Now the sounds were 10 meters away at the end of the tent. I opened the tent door as quietly as possible and turned on the lamp's light to full brightness to point at the target.

The white cow looked at me from there and we were both equally surprised. It quickly ran into the forest.

On my way to the city the next day, I stumbled upon Casa de Ciclista. Closer to retirement age the couple owned a small farm and ran free accommodation for cycle tourists.

They were long-distance cyclists themselves and had explored all around South America over the years.

All the plants in the garden were also available to the guests. For cyclists, there was a renovated shed, where had everything needed for simple living including a warm shower.

There were also guide books for South American travel. I learned new things about this country from the Lonely Planet guide. Although the knowledge of certain compliments of Argentina came a little too late, when the hostess greeted me warmly with a kiss on the cheek when I arrived. For a Finn, this is always surprising.

There were also two other cyclists. Canadian Keifer and German Tab. They had lived here for about a week already. Tab had cooked numerous of proper dishes. In the evening, we baked stick bread on the embers of the fireplace, which was dipped in a sweet puree made from plums from the garden.

The owners had said they were raising money for the next bike ride, so I left a generous donation to the farm from my overnight stay. I then continued the next day to the nearby El Bolsón to prepare the departure for the Beer Trail.

Jesse had arrived the day before by chance here in the same town, so I joined to the same hostel. An overnight stay with breakfast costs 16 euros.

There was a lot of people at the hostel, which is always gratifying when traveling alone. The evening was spent at the dining table eating, chatting and listening to the most wonderful travel stories.

Two Dutch students had ingeniously combined writing a master’s thesis during a long and inexpensive trip.

Jesse and I would set off in the morning. We drove together the first day, but then the plans diverged and we went in different directions.

I found a place to spend the night at a city-run camping area. There was no one there on a public holiday and the toilets were also locked.

Another cyclist who was on the same route as me came late. He had such a different daily rhythm and I didn't see him after that.

He had siesta until at least 12 o'clock in the day before he started doing anything at all.

The days now featured desert landscapes and scorching sun. The mountain passes were really startling and at times so steep that the bike had to be pushed up.

Fluid was consumed at least 5 liters per day and still seemed to be a small loss of fluid.

After the third day on the Beer trail, the scenery changed a lot and I had new stuff to admire in the environment. Despite the name of the route, the mouth did not experience the taste of malts until the end of the trip.

The route developer Taneli had done a good job planning the route and I proceeded according to the original daily rhythm.

However, I didn't take a single rest day during the 6 days, so I was very exhausted when I got there to San Martín de los Andes.

This city was located on the shore of a large lake, surrounded by mountains. It was quite a busy tourist town. I think I found the cheapest hostel for 20 euros, which included breakfast.

The hope was to have human contacts again after a long lonely journey. However, the hostel was very quiet. I went to the recommended brewery to taste the offerings, but despite the traffic, I didn't meet any other passengers there.

Just when I was going to sleep at 10 o'clock in the evening, two guys walked into my empty hostel room. George from England and Danny from Holland. Both were long-distance travelers and travelers of their own way. The time flew by as we chatted excitedly about our travels for three hours.

The next day, George was going on a day trip to the mountains and invited me along. From being tired despite the situation, this was a very good and relaxed activity.

The hostel was so comfortable and i was tired so I stayed there for three nights. Then it was time to move on. I had to gradually travel far away to the airport in Santiago. My bike trips in Patagonia started to be finished.

However, the local bus company refused to take the bike on board. It was the only public connection away from here. I suggested different days, but nothing worked. People's possible luggages went before my bike.

Hitchhiking seemed like a potential option, because there were a lot of traffic. Most of the cars were even empty pick-up trucks.

During the 1.5 hours, however, no one stopped. What a disappointed. I then cycled to the next town, Junìn de los Andes, to try my luck. Fortunately, the wind was favorable and the journey of a couple of hours passed in a leisurely roll.

There are other bus companies operating here in the small town and I got confirmation of the bus leaving the next morning.

I found a hostel for 9 euros for one night. It actually resembled a large and cozy detached house, from which I got my own room.

In addition, one local bicycle traveler and a french couple on a tandem stayed there.

During the previous hitchhiking, this couple had passed me. The one at the front of the tandem steered the bike, while the one at the back scrolled the phone with both hands and booked a place to sleep. Handy!

My bus left early in the morning twilight. The massive, more than 3700 m high volcano Lanin along the way was not seen in the fog of a rainy day.

The bus arrived in Chile, in a city called Pucón. I planned to spend a few days here, as the volcanic environment offered a variety of experiences.

The next day was also rainy. I took the local bus to the hot springs. Floating in pools of different temperatures was a great activity for recovery.

I then started the excursion to the volcano Villarrica, at the foot of which this village was located. The volcano is the most active in Chile. It last erupted in 2015.

I asked about a guided trip to the lava lake of the glacier at the top. Excursions were not possible right now, because the volcano was too active.

Villarrica, which is over 2800 m high, was still completely covered in fog, and I hadn't seen a glimpse of it. I pedaled up the slope in the pouring rain.

I stopped to visit the guided tour of the lava tunnels inside the mountain. Lava flows had once formed tunnels and now they were safe to visit.

At the end of the cave, the guide turned off the lights. We were silent for a minute. It was the darkest and quietest place I had ever been.

I continued cycling towards the viewpoint Mirador Los Cráteres. Actually, the journey from here on was about pushing the bike.

I tried to find a place for the night as soon as possible, where I could leave my bike and continue on foot tomorrow. However, the environment was too dense jungle. I ended up pushing the bike for a couple of hours to get there.

Now mother nature pulled the cloud curtains aside and I saw for the first time a snow-topped and infernally smoking volcano.

In the darkening evening, I set up the tent in the middle of the path to the viewpoint. You shouldn't actually spend the night here because of the active volcano. However, no one else was here anymore, so I could spend the night in peace.

I woke up at night to watch a great and wild display. Among the clear starry sky and under the Milky Way, an ancient volcano lived its mysterious life.

The summit's 200-meter-diameter lava lake illuminated rising clouds of smoke. The big clouds of smoke looked like burning red flames.

The volcano surrounded by the stars was so unreal-looking that a few hours passed quickly while looking at it.

I slept for a long time and spent a slow morning looking at the scenery. The observation deck offered 360-degree views. The first guest was a trail runner who arrived at noon, due to the long journey.

Going downhill by bike was much faster this time, although still tiring. I continued mountain biking on the volcano for a while, because it was a unique opportunity.

In the afternoon, I skied down to the city's black sand beach to spend a beach day before the bus left. The water was pleasantly warm, because it was volcanic soil that reportedly warmed it.

Pucón offered great experiences for a few days. I now took the 800 km long night bus to Santiago. I would have liked to watch the scenery from the window of the bus during the day, but this night line was the only direct connection. It is said that the countryside is so boring on the way that even the motorcyclists I met said they avoid the route.

I arrived early in the morning to a city in the metropolitan area. In the huge city of 5.6 million inhabitants, it is not safe to pass by some areas. There were cops everywhere and lots of them. It was a little startling when everyone was wearing riot gear.

I waited at the bus station for about an hour for the sun to rise, and then I pedaled carefully along the planned route with local knowledge to my accommodation. It was located on the other side of the city in the better-off area.

Countless homeless people slept on the streets and I carefully followed the bike routes so that I wouldn't have to drive into the cars on the 8-lane road.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Finland recommends avoiding several areas here. You still had to cycle through them. Everything was still safe right now. Then when there are bigger conflicts, the mood here escalates wildly.

Driving through these streets, I remembered the Finnish Karate youth national team's trip to the competition in this same city 5 years ago: Riot police shot rubber bullets, water cannons and tear gas, the Estonian team's hotel was set on fire, and they fled to the Finns' hotel.

The Finnish consulate sent a message to the coach asking if they would come with an armored car to evacuate to safe place.

I got to meet Karate coach Janne Karttunen before my trip and received invaluable training on travel safety, which he also does for work.

Well, about those scares. I was always alert in the city, and I never once felt threatened.

The city itself was an interesting place to visit. The owner of the Airbnb apartment also lived in the same apartment. Whenever he saw me, he greeted me with a good-natured handshake, several times a day. The calm pet in the apartment was also like a therapy dog.

Then it was time to say goodbye to South America and the warm Latino culture. The direction of the plane was now the United States.