I couldn’t help but question my motivation to ride to the end of the road. I knew what was going to be there. The exact same thing that is at the end of every road. An anticlimactic barrier of some sort and then you turn around. 

Even though I knew that would be the case I was still possessed to go ride it. “What if the best “fill in the blank” is in that last section?! You don’t want to miss that do you?” Of course I didn’t so I got up at the crack of dawn, packed my camp and set off down the last section of the Carraterra Austral. 

The weather had had taken a turn overnight. I woke to a frosty morning and instead of the unbelievably blue skies that I had been enjoying, grey clouds were now hanging low on the mountains. All day long intermittent droplets of rain threatened a greater soaking that fortunately didn’t materialize until later. 

I managed to arrive at the ferry dock 20 minutes before the first sailing at 10AM. Once onboard, I met another rider named Din (Dean) who is from Paraguay. We spent the 45 minute voyage looking at maps and photos. Din did not speak any English but he was very enthusiastic to talk with me. I had to dig deep to hold up my end of the conversation in Spanish but it was a fun start to the day. DIn gave me his contact information and told me I could stay at his house if I passed though Paraguay. 

I was the first to disembark which was nice because it put me in front of the dust cloud. From there it was 70 miles of gravel forest road to the end. Even though the weather was a little dreary the scenery was so beautiful. Hundreds of small waterfalls cascaded along the steep banks of the fiords and rivers. When I reached the end… as promised it was nothing special. There was a sign stating that this was indeed the end and there were several bicyclist taking their photos there. I stopped and took a quick selfie but several of the cyclists were not satisfied with that and insisted on helping me with a proper photo. How could I refuse. 

I turned around and rolled back to Villa O’Higgins which is a really small town in the middle of nowhere. I stopped to get some lunch and met a young man named Renaldo. Eighteen years old, Renaldo is from Santiago but came here to help his aunt with her guest house… and to make some money. He was eager to speak English with me (a native English speaker) as he has been studying for a university entrance exam in Canada. He said that his mother didn’t think he could learn English but his father had invested in a private tutor. “I wish my mother could see me talking with you” he said. “Lets make a video!” I offered. He was delighted. We set up his phone and he recorded our conversation while I ate. 

I had to push my pace heading back. Lunch had taken a little longer than expected and I had to catch the ferry at 5:00. The scenery never got old and I like to see things differently while riding in the opposite direction. After the return ferry ride, I rode back to the homestead that I stayed at last night. 

“Esta mi otra vez!” (It’s me again!). The owner just laughed and waved me back to my spot. I managed to get my tent set up moments before the skies opened up and the rain came down hard. 

Tomorrow I need to backtrack another 100 miles before I can head east toward Argentina.