For nearly two years I had been researching a famous cycling
route called the Laguna’s Route in Southwest Bolivia. There are sketch maps, satellite images,
documents with turn-by-turn directions attempting to help the next rider, and dozens
of accounts of the journey from cyclists who have completed it on the
interwebs. I had originally not planned
to do the route because, frankly, I was scared of the many things that could go
wrong. Snowstorms, water scarcity,
extreme remoteness, and downright life-threatening isolation are some of the
words I’ve read about the route. Even if
everything goes correctly, the road is still 500km of salty, sandy, snowy, and
rocky 4x4 tracks that criss-cross blindly through the unknown. One missed turn gone unnoticed could be a
death sentence without water or if caught in a snowstorm. The reality is that no matter how much
research I did, the road conditions are constantly changing and weather
conditions at that altitude are always variable.
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| The sketchmap we used for 2 weeks to find our way through the Laguna's Route |
AUGUST 23: After
stocking up on 12 days of food and curing all the water we’d need for the next
few days, we printed off the map we’d need for the Laguna’s Route, which is a
16-page PDF with road conditions, directions, landmarks, water points, wind
shelters, etc. The morning we were
supposed to leave Uyuni, I awoke with a sickness from the previous nights’
gorging on two whole pizzas and a loaf of bread. Gotta carb up, but I guess there’s a
limit! I told Loic to leave, but he
waited the day out for me, hoping I’d get better the following morning. I watched a few movies and studied the PDF
quite extensively, and by the morning of the 23rd, I was set to
cycle through the Salar de Uyuni, and I’d decide whether I wanted to do the
Lagunas Route when we arrived at the island in the middle.
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| Moonrise in the middle of the Salar |
Departing the last paved road for nearly two weeks, we
cycled north on a horribly corrugated, sandy road to the entrance of the Salar
for a few hours, then onto the largest salt flat in the world. At an elevation of nearly 12,000ft, the
surface consists of perfectly flat salt polygons, separated by 1cm high ridges
of salt. The surface changes every few
kilometers, sometimes silky smooth, sometimes bumpy with little salt balls, and
sometimes there are even little holes, through which you can see the first
layer of saltwater below the surface.
You can cycle in any direction and I even went so far as to blindfold
myself for a few minutes, using the wind on the side of my cheek to orient
myself west toward the ‘island’ at the middle.
I put on some Tycho, which I found to be the perfect
cycling-on-the-largest-salt-flat-in-the-world music and explored the vastness. After five hours, the island was still not in
sight, so we decided to stop. Normally,
we pick a time to begin searching for a stealth-camp spot, but out here on the
10,500 square kilometer playground, it was just a matter of which side of the
darkened 4x4 track to pitch camp. Loic
and I actually had a discussion about it and we used the wind coming from the
Southwest to blow us to the right side of the road 500m to a nice spot to
camp. In the morning, the wind wouldn’t
be blowing and we could get back to the main track with less effort – it was a
scientifically justified decision to camp on the right side of the track in the
end, how geeky. We cooked some rice and
lentils and watched the sun sinking into the endless white salar, but with no
land to have captured the sun’s energy, the temperature dropped to 36F (3C)
almost immediately after the sunset and we were forced into our tents. I got out of the tent a few hours later to
watch the moonrise, and then slept like a baby with no sounds, smells, or
lights to distract me.
AUGUST 24: The night
was unexpectedly warm, only dropping to 31F (-1C), and in the morning, it was
only 40km to the island, which became visible after an hour. We were fighting a headwind, but the ecstasy
and allure of the salar were still fresh in my blood. We arrived at the Isla Inkahuasi and met
resident Don Alfredo, who enjoys meeting cyclists and hearing their
stories. We relaxed, did a little hike
around the island, seeing the 1000 year-old cacti jutting high into the bright
sky. A strong wind began whipping the
island late in the day, so we retired to Don’s little one-table restaurant
where we shared our stories with some Jeep drivers and guides over coffee. The route between Uyuni and San Pedro de
Atacama is frequented by tourists on 3-4 day Jeep tours throughout the day. The guides said the southern part of the
Laguna’s Route was currently snowbound and closed, but should be open by the
time we reach it. I watched the sunset
behind the stormy clouds, then retired to Don’s guestroom, a basic affair with
salt floor, salt beds (with bare mattress atop), no electricity or light except
candles, no heat, running water, or bathroom.
It was out of the wind, which is well worth the $4.50.
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| Isla Inkahuasi, made of ancient coral and cacti |
AUGUST 25: The next
day, I was done with my antibiotics and feeling strong enough to continue with
Loic through the Lagunas Route. Leaving
the island with loads of water, we had a very strong tailwind, pushing us
20-25kph over the salt to the southern shore.
After 40km, we reached a dirt ramp that led to the shore where we cooked
lunch in someone’s house and watched as the wind grew stronger, now carrying
dirt and dust across the road and wreaking havoc on the family’s Bolivian
flag. We continued on the track, but as
the road began deteriorating, we got lost a few times and eventually found
ourselves pushing in the deep sand, unsure if we were even walking in the right
direction. By 3pm, the wind was blowing
at perhaps 60mph (95kph), starting a little sandstorm, reducing visibility to
less than a kilometer. Thankfully, we
found an old house used to for irrigation equipment, so we quickly set the
tents up, but with only half a roof and no door, the dust swirled and eddied in
the 10x10ft house, under our tent flies and into all our gear. Around sunset, the sandstorm was raging
outside; with wind upwards of perhaps 100mph (160kph), visibility was reduced
to 50 meters; even the location of the sun couldn’t be determined. I was in my sleeping bag at 6pm, but couldn’t
sleep with all the dust flying over my face and the screaming noise of the wind
on the mud-brick walls. The wind was
even strong enough to blow around the dead mice in the room, que bueno! I had my bandana over my face, but it was
still a quite uncomfortable evening until the wind died down around 10.
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| The sandstorm |
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| A 'road' |
AUGUST 27: Cycling
out of San Juan was difficult in the sand, but soon became easy as we reached
another small salar. Though it still
only 32F (0C) heading across the salar, the day was clear and windless, so we
flew across as the behemoth volcanoes grew larger in front of us. Somewhere after our last water point for two
days, we got lost. Instead of turning at
a fork in the sand/salt road, we stayed straight, which actually made our
journey up into the mountains easier, though it added 20km in the end. We found a nice little canyon to pass the
night and after setting our gear up, had some time to kill. Here’s the thing: we happened to purchase some dynamite on the
Potosi mine tour for the miners, but ended up keeping a stick of the ‘Hydrogel’
stuff for ourselves, along with a little wick.
I have no idea if this is legal or if exploding it outside of a mine is
legal, but the way things go in Bolivia, it seems like it doesn’t really matter. After some calculations and decisions, we
found the perfect place to wedge the dynamite stick and determined that we had
1:18 of time to run. I lit the wick,
dropped off my camera nearby and ran into a sandy hole with Loic, hands over
ears. Unfortunately, we severely
overestimated the force of one stick of dynamite, so the camera was positioned
too far away to capture any of the explosion except for the ‘BOOM’ it
made. Other than a few missing stones, a
big black mark on the boulder, and some displaced sand, the dynamite was a
bust. We ate dinner, watched an unreal
sunset behind snowy peaks, and turned in, a bit disappointed. Lessons for the future!
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| Oh Bolivia, you're so unlawful |
AUGUST 28: The
morning was cold, but pushing 3km in the deep sand to the maintained
International Road warmed us up plenty.
Now we finally knew where we were and where we went wrong. Climbed up into the mountains on the
sandless, smooth-surfaced International Road, and then turned off towards the
first laguna, the point of no return. Lunch is getting interesting as I have run out
of some items and have an excess of others.
So on the menu for Loic was this tomato lentil and rice paste-like mud
and for me: tuna, oatmeal, honey,
peanuts, crackers, and soy protein powder. The road undulated and climbed steeply up a
very rocky track, something I wouldn’t even do with my old Jeep Cherokee back
in the day! Though my back wheel finally
has traction as there is no sand, the rocks made it a bit too strenuous to
cycle with all the water-weight at the front of my bike, so I was walking once
again up and over to a little salar on the other side. There’s not much wind this afternoon again,
thank God because there is nothing to hide behind out here. Coming up on the first laguna was quite
spectacular, blues and whites under an eerie sky, dotted with white and pink
flamingos, vicunas (wild llamas) and foxes around the shore. I took perhaps 97 horrible wildlife pictures
and 3 good ones, a good way to drain a camera battery out here. 10km further took us to Laguna Hedionda,
where we got a nice dinner at a little restaurant and refilled our water
bottles, then were allowed to camp just next door, out of the wind.
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| Mountain biking with a 110lb road bike, anyone? |
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| Laguna Hedionda flamingos |
AUGUST 29: The
flamingos were making quite the racket, making sleeping in difficult, which was
frustrating because there was no morning sun to warm us today with all the
clouds, so we went into the restaurant to take a power coffee. The owners of the Ecolodge Flamenco’s
Restaurant were very friendly and even included some bread with our coffee,
which is like gold out here in the wild desert.
The track through the rest of the little lakes was quite hard going,
with lots of washboard to contend with.
We began climbing up to a pass at 15,500ft (4700m) under ominous skies. We were pushing the bikes through a really
rocky section after a few hours when a series of Jeeps passed us, with the
tourist taking pictures and what not as they usually do. A few minutes later, we ran into them again
as they were preparing lunch and invited us over! Pasta, tuna, meat for Loic, chips, BREAD,
VEGETABLES, and coke were a few of the things on the menu. I ate three full plates and the guides loaded
us up with pasta, veggies, chips, and bread for the road. What an awesome happening – such good people
out here! Happy as all get-out, we
continued up the pass, clouds growing above and a fierce, cold wind picking
up. Near the top, the sky opened up and
I got my first dose of cycle-touring in the snow. I used to cycle to class in the snow during
college and I loved it. But it’s a
little different when you’re above 15,000ft and there is nothing but desert
surrounding you, definitely no warm classroom or apartment to end at. The wind was coming at a 90-degree angle from
the west, and all we could do was cycle because it was too cold to stop. Once over the pass, there were several
centimeters of snow on the tracks, but because it came in at an angle, we could
still see where the tracks went.
Unfortunately, the tracks went in all different directions, so with zero
visibility, we used the compass to make our way further south. Thunder was cracking over our heads… I was cold, wet and a bit nervous as this was
my big fear coming into this route – being snowbound. Luckily, the skies suddenly cleared way for
the sun later in the evening and we found a nice place to camp, though not out
of the wind. The mountains with fresh
snow against the powder-blue sky looked just like a postcard. If the snow came back, it’d be a really long
night. Peering out my little window
occasionally to look at the huge clouds in the distance, I was greeted only
with shooting stars and a fresh breeze.
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| I've never been so excited about bread before |
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| My first time cycle-touring in the snow |
In the middle of the night, I checked my digital
thermometer, which being a part of a cycling computer only goes to down to 10F
(-12C). It dropped slowly to 10, then read
‘---‘, meaning the temperature was probably somewhere in the
single-digits. Loic got zero sleep with
his malfunctioning tent zipper, and I think I managed 4 hours or so wearing all
my clothes.
AUGUST 30: We had a
sunny cloudless sky in the morning, which we allowed to warm the air to about
32F (0C) before we got to riding. Half
of my water was a solid ice-block and the other half was slush. We planned to push hard to get to a refugio
by nightfall. After a few kilometers of
cycling horrible road, we entered the National Park boundary, which has a
machine that more-or-less maintains the road.
From here on down to Chile, the road is heavily corrugated, making for a
very bumpy ride. The machine takes out
the sand though, making it cycleable, even if averaging only 4.5mph (7kph) the
whole day. Some of the worst sections
were so corrugated that over the bumps, my big crank and pedals were hitting
the tops of the ridges of the road when rocking over them. I can’t believe my bike has made it this
far! My chain shrieks for oil. By lunch the wind was howling, but we made it
to the Arbol de Piedra, a rock that has been shaped into a tree by the howling
wind and blowing sands. We cooked some
mashed potatoes with soup and soy protein chunks in the snowy rock garden,
hidden from the wind. Afterwards, a
gradual 1000ft (300m) descent down to Laguna Colorada followed, with a few
sandy sections where we had to push. If
you have a downhill with a tailwind and still have to get off your bike and
push, you know you’re doing something crazy.
We arrived at the bright red lake with huge salt peninsulas in time for
sunset, and checked into a really nasty little refugio, where the temperatures
inside still dropped below freezing. No
toilet, no water, but there was a light and for 5bs, I charged my camera with a
car battery fed by a solar panel. The
night was windy and we were really thankful to be inside. We had heard that the pass and immigration to
Chile has been closed for snow, but should be opened tomorrow.
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| Arbol de Piedra |
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| Laguna Colorada |
AUGUST 31: The
morning consisted of boiling loads of water and making rice and lentils for the
next two days to Laguna Chalviri.
Thankfully we brought 2.5 liters of fuel as boiling cold water at
altitude takes some time! Once packed,
we rounded the lake on a mediocre track and began our climb to the highest
altitude of my life! We camped about 7km
up the climb behind a boulder out of the wind, not wanting to go any further in
case the blue-bird sky changed for the worse.
In the morning, we would hit the high pass only if the weather looked
good. At over 15,500ft (4750m), this
will be my highest campsite of my trip.
At 1000ft higher than anywhere in the continental USA, the air is thin
and the nights are frigid. Loic and I
decided to sleep in my 2-person tent, as he’d get no sleep in his tent without
being able to close the zipper door. We
boiled water and put bottles of the stuff at our feet in our sleeping bags to
help with the warmth, I wore my jeans, thermal pants, and long underwear below,
my long sleeve shirt, sweatshirt, and down coat up top – in my sleeping
bag. Loic was wearing even more layers than
I and had two sleeping bags and a blanket!
We watched Django Unchained and went to sleep around 9pm. I got a few hours, but he didn’t sleep at all
and swore to never sleep above 4000m again.
Once we leave Bolivia, the only high elevation sections will be passes
between Argentina and Chile, where it will be possible to sleep below 4000m and
cross over in the morning/afternoon. The
closer we get to Patagonia, the lower elevation the mountain passes.
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| On our way up to 16,000ft |
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| I'll take mud over sand, thank you |
SEPTEMBER 1: Peering
out the window in the morning, I couldn’t see a single cloud, just snowcapped
peaks and a big red lake in a basin to the north. We packed up in the cold morning and
continued up the hill to the geysers near the top called Sol de Manana. To our delightful surprise, we were done with
all the steep climbing and just had the gentle track to follow to the top. We missed the unsigned junction for the
geysers, but found them by foot, what a treat!
A big geothermal field with at least 5 different holes shooting steam,
surrounded by red, green, blue, yellow, and orange colored rock greeted us. After a delicious thrown-together lunch
behind a boulder, we cranked out the remaining kilometers up to 16,130ft, our
new trip high point. This elevation is
only a few hundred feet lower than the Mount Everest Base Camp in Tibet! When I hit 16,020ft in Peru, I thought it’d
be my highest point because I hadn’t planned to do the Laguna’s Route. We took a few pictures and started down
quickly as it was only maybe 30F (-1) in the middle of the day. It was all downhill to Laguna Chalviri, a
beautiful bright blue and white lake, surrounded by red-rock volcanoes. We pulled up to the little thermal pool, and
jumped into the warm water, ahhhh. The
jeep tourists were nowhere to be seen and the owner of one of the two
restaurants came out to join us with his family. He offered us a room in his
restaurant/refugio for 25bs, which turned out to be a steal because later that
evening, after a group of tourists had come and eaten, he dished up a pot of
soup for us! And with Loic fast asleep
after our pasta dinner, I had it to myself.
Vegetable soup, guys come on! I
met a few of the jeep tourists staying the night there – really cool people all
on short 2-4 week holidays. A few people
even loaded me up with some tuna from the U.S. and powerbars from Germany! Thank you guys!! I had some free wine with them in the
evening, and turned in pretty late. I
fell asleep after watching an episode of the addicting Boardwalk Empire with
Steve Buschimi. The inside of the
refugio stayed above freezing all night, which was a relief, no frozen bottles
of water!
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Sol de Manana geothermal field with wild Vicunas in the foreground
|
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| The highest elevation I've ever achieved |
SEPTEMBER 2: In the
morning, I had my normal Avena (cold oatmeal/porridge) breakfast, but after the
tourists left, we got to eat all their left-over pancakes, and there were a
ton! And they were cooked
perfectly!!! This really helped us as we
got a rather late start, having to first climb up and through the Desierto de
Dali, a colorful, rock-laden desert reminiscent of many Dali paintings. The climb started gradual, but steepened
towards the end, complimented with a strong energy-sapping headwind. It was tough going, but the track was decent
and I could really feel the strength the pancakes gave me! I wasn’t hungry until we descended the other
side and pushed through some sand to get to Laguna Verde for lunch. When the wind picks up, the algae from the
bottom of these lagunas stirs up to the surface, giving it its respective special
color. Laguna Colorada has a red tint,
Laguna Verde is bright turquoise, while Laguna Blanca is an almost whitish
blue. The wind was blowing at maybe 40
or 50mph (70-80kph) at Laguna Verde, making it a spectacular site. It was difficult to linger in the subzero
wind chill though, so we continued to the refugio on the south side of our
final laguna. The price was 60bs and we
didn’t have it, nor did we want to spend $10 US dollars on a little refugio, so
at 4pm, we started up the last pass of the Lagunas Route in the screaming wind,
with little energy to spare. We reached the
Bolivian immigration post at 6km, after about an hour of struggling in the
headwind, got our exit stamp, took a few pictures at the snowy ‘Welcome to
Chile’ sign and continued up the hill.
Towards the top, I could hardly see straight, so decided to walk. Loic followed suit and a half hour before sunset,
we were at the top, 15,300ft (4700m), greeted with a smooth, black layer of
Chilean pavement. Turning right, we
started downhill on the silky ‘carretera’.
Leaving 15,000ft we plummeted down into the Atacama Desert: My altimeter hitting 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9,
then 8,000ft. The temperature was
climbing from 32F (0C) steadily up to 62F (16C) as we could finally fill our
lungs with fresh, warm oxygen after nearly 3 weeks above 11,500ft. I was yelling out the altitude and
temperature to Loic – I kind of felt like I was skydiving! Despite my bruised and battered bike and
low-pressure tires, I managed to hit 75.1kph (47mph), a new high for maximum
speed. We watched the sunset directly in
front of us and pulled into a dry river bed 15 kilometers before San Pedro de
Atacama to enjoy the ‘clearest sky seen from land in the world’ and fell asleep
under shooting stars after a record-long day of 7 pedaling hours, over 6 of
those in the sand up and down high mountain passes. My last 7+ hour day was probably in
California in 2009.
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| Thermal pool at Laguna Chalviri |
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| Laguna Verde |
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| Country number 26 by bike! |
SEPTEMBER 3: We
packed the bikes and continued downhill to San Pedro de Atacama, our first town
in Chile. The difference is already very
apparent. The roads are silky perfect,
the cars and road signs are reminiscent of Europe. We rolled into town to get our passport stamp
and I got my Peruvian honey confiscated by the food folks, sad day, but my
other unmentionables were safely stowed away.
We found an awesome little hostel for $11 (an expensive country, wow)
and met a French couple and an older Australian guy named Nigel cycling around
the Americas (www.browsinaboutonabike.com).
My to-do list I made last night is very long, including
picking up some bike parts, rotating my tires, patching and cleaning gear,
laundry, sewing some stuff, and making budget plans, time-goals, etc. But the most time-consuming item is now
complete, my blog of one of the most incredible yet challenging places I’ll
ever have the opportunity to cycle. I’ll
hang out in San Pedro de Atacama for a few days before heading back over the
mountains and into Argentina – call me crazy, but I’m thinking about taking the
harder unpaved way. Then after that, it
is smooth sailing down to Mendoza, over to Santiago/Valpairaiso and down the
Chilean coast, through the Lakes District of Southern Chile and Argentina, and
back into Chile for the Carratera Austral, the next desolate, unpaved,
challenging section of road between here and Ushuaia.
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| What I will be doing with my time here in San Pedro |
This blog is far too long for comfort, so I salute you if
you actually managed to read all of it.
As always, remember that I am doing this ride for a cause, a very
important cause at that. If everyone
reading this pitches in a few bucks and spreads the good word, we’ll reach our
goal in no time. If I can survive the
Laguna’s Route, perhaps you could tell a friend about The Water Project and One
Ride One World. I promise my next blog
won’t be as long, thank you so much for your support and for tuning in!!
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| Our late-day descent down to warm air and fresh oxygen |
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
SOME SUPER USEFUL INFORMATION FOR CYCLISTS ATTEMPTING THE
LAGUNAS ROUTE:
The following is our account of the route from Uyuni to San
Pedro de Atacama via San Juan de Rosario and the Lagunas, between August 23 and
September 2, 2013. We used the 16-page
PDF including maps and road conditions provided by the lovely folks at www.Tour.TK to find our way through to Chile, so
everything I mention will be used in conjunction with their PDF on SW
Bolivia. Keep in mind that we did this
in late August and it could be a completely different experience for you. In my opinion, the route isn’t the hardest
thing I’ve ever cycled, but the road conditions were the worst. If you are a good cyclist (can handle your
bike, 10 liters of water, and 12 days of food on sand and rocks, weaving often
to avoid obstacles, pedaling hard to not get stuck, etc), are in relatively
good shape, and have very warm weather gear, it is completely doable, though
averaging only 8kph (5mph) should be expected every day. A
summary of our account is located at the bottom of this post.
In Uyuni, you can find most all the food you can imagine,
though there is no supermarket. The only
thing we couldn’t find was dry soy milk, though you can find the real thing at
the little store selling all the other milk products. Don’t forget extra toilet paper! Oh, and I ate a pizza at Arco Iris Pizzeria
and got sick... beware haha.
The road to Colchani is indeed quite horrible, though as of
August 2013, they are building a new paved road from Uyuni to at least Colchani. As of now, it is only half-complete and not
yet paved. There is a sign in Colchani
marking the junction for the Salar, whose ramp is 5km from the junction, can’t
miss it. From there, you can’t see Isla
Inkahuasi until 30km before it, but just head on the well-defined tracks going
West and you can’t go wrong. Apparently
compasses malfunction frequently, but the cheap one we picked up in Potosi
worked just fine. Also note that if you
are riding a steel bike, it’s best to use your compass at least a meter or two
away from the frame.
In Isla Inkahuasi, the house very near the shore is that of
Don Alfredo, the island’s first resident.
He loves cyclists and has a big book of those who have passed
through. We stayed in his house in a
spare room (no electricity, sheets, bathroom, or running water) for 30
Bolivianos, the same price as the Refugio.
This price is in addition to the 30 you have to pay to come on the
island, well worth every penny, the little hike is beautiful. In the evening, Don will even use his battery
to charge your electronics for a few hours.
From Inkahausi, the tracks going almost straight South are
those that lead to the ramp coming off the Salar near Colcha K. There are actually two little Tiendas selling
crackers, beer, and other small things right at the Salar’s exit; you can even
find water. The little town is called
Puerto Chuvica.
The road to San Juan from the Salar is the worst of the
entire Laguna’s Route. Lots of pushing
in deep sand as Bolivians try to farm here, then wind just carries their sandy
tilled fields into the road and beyond.
Also, route finding is impossible as well, even with the PDF. We found a road heading just west of South
with power lines running along it. After
6km on this, there is a track heading West which all the Jeeps take, it leads
to San Juan. Looking West you will see a
mountain ridge coming down into the valley from right to left. You head around a little spit, then after a
few kilometers, hug the mountains on your right, going to the right-side of
another small, solitary mountain. There
is a sign on the way saying San Juan 24km.
It’s actually only 14km but really hard going.
In San Juan, there are plentiful hospedaje’s and
alojamiento’s. There are pretty big
tiendas where you can find lots of basic things including cookies, tuna, rice,
pasta, lentils, soup, beer, etc. Despite
what has been said, there is a lady selling fruits and vegetables 6 days a
week; just ask around for her house. She
also sells dried mashed potatoes. There
is a family selling bread, but didn’t have any when we checked. At Hospedaje Max, we stayed for 50 bs
(bargained from 80bs) each in a room with three beds. It’s very clean, quiet, has a kitchen (no
stove), has piping hot water, and electricity in the evening. Location is just opposite the big expensive
white tourist hotel.
Coming out of San Juan, the road is difficult for only a few
kilometers, and then you are cycling on the Salar de Chiguani, whose surface is
even better than the Salar de Uyuni. If
you have a tailwind, you’ll fly. It’s
like this until the military camp at 30km from San Juan and continues for a few
more kilometers along the railway. Make
sure to cross the railway and go through the military camp. We didn’t take water here, but it can
apparently be found in metal boxes by the railway.
This next part is rather important: The PDF branches off from the railway for
some 10km, and then begins to climb a hill (you can see the road in the
distance). No jeeps take this way
anymore as the road is just too sandy.
Save yourself hours of pushing uphill and skip the first 4200m pass
altogether. After leaving the railway on
the track on your left, keep following the main track alongside the mountains,
don’t climb anything, stay on flat ground keeping giant Volcano Ollague in
front of you. Halfway to the volcano,
there is a tiny village where you might find water and a windbreak. There are some pretty sandy sections that
require pushing, but it’s not too bad.
Eventually, you will arrive at the International Road at the base of the
Volcano. A few kilometers before
reaching the road, there are a few rock outcrops on the left side of the road,
perfect for camping.
When you reach the International Road, turn left and follow
it for 21km. You will see the junction
for the sandy road on the PDF on your left after 13km. Keep on going another 8km as per the
PDF. The condition of the International
Road is fantastic as it is maintained and used by trucks, cars, etc. No washboard, very little sand, no pushing
necessary, though steep in the beginning.
After 20km, you will clear a small steep pass and have a
steep descent; at the bottom is the right-hand turn for Laguna Hedionda. It’s not marked but very well visible. Cross the sandy meadow and begin the visible
climb in front of you. The road is
absolutely horrendous, this time with big rocks, kind of like the annoying
sections on a mountain bike ride you just have to push through. It’s cycleable if you’re very very fit as
it’s extremely steep and requires much coordination to not hit the
basketball-size boulders lining the way.
Luckily it is short-lived and then you have an equally rocky descent to
and through a few salars. After the top
of the second little climb after 4km from the International Road, you’ll see a
myriad of tracks. Just take the least
sandy one and you’ll go through the little canyon in front of you, don’t go up
the tracks to the right… I’m not sure where they go, but they climb and you
don’t have to climb.
Reaching the first lagoon is quite spectacular and there are
a few abandoned houses that’d make a perfect campspot near the lake. I don’t believe you can drink out of any of
the lakes. They have something in them,
salt, borax, maybe arsenic, etc. Another
10 easy kilometers of relatively good road (good as in horrible, but you don’t
have to push) you’ll reach Ecolodge Los Flamencos, an expensive hotel on Laguna
Hedionda. The owner is very friendly and
you CAN buy bottled water here, though it’ll run you 15bs per 2 liters. They say the water from the spring is NOT
potable, and will sell you some of their own water supply for 2-3bs per
liter. We ate at their restaurant, 35bs
for a Tortilla de Verdura, rice, and some tomato and avocado – small but
delicious. They allowed us to camp
beside the hotel for wind protection.
They even have wifi and encouraged us to try it out, but we were
exhausted and didn’t check to see if it was working.
The road through the rest of the lagoons isn’t as easy going
as the PDF makes it out to be, but the climb up to the 4700m pass isn’t as
sandy as the PDF states. For us, it was
all cyclable except a few rocky sections near the end. We made the mistake of not going to the right
to avoid climbing the pass. Most jeeps
seem to go to the right to avoid it. We
had a snowstorm at the top, which wasn’t so pleasant. With no visibility (blizzard conditions) and
no sign for the Hotel de Desierto, we missed the junction. A jeep driver told us earlier that you could
perhaps pass the night in one of the rooms meant for the jeep drivers at the
hotel for much cheaper than the hotel itself.
From here the road is hard-going for only perhaps 5 to 8
kilometers, and then is fine thereafter.
It also doesn’t undulate as much as the elevation profiles on the PDF
indicate. There is no steep downhill and
uphill near the abandoned house, just a long steady climb. The abandoned house can’t be missed, looks
like a good wind shelter too. From here,
you will enter the national park, where route-finding is no longer such an
issue and the road is actually somewhat maintained with a machine all the way
until Chile. It is still very hard going
but there is little pushing necessary.
The Arbol de Piedra is on your left near many other cool
rock formations. There is a toilet here
and an edifice to hide behind for wind protection. Up until this point, we have had winds from
the North, not the southwest as we had expected, thank God.
The track down to Laguna Colorada is quite sandy and
requires some frustrating downhill pushing.
You’ll see the lake from a ways away.
You pay the 150bs for a 4-day park entrance here and continue another
100m around the corner to all the refugios.
Unfortunately, the nice refugios are reserved for jeep tourists, so we
were stuck in the middle one with 6 beds.
Other than a little table for cooking, at 30bs, it wasn’t a good
place. The toilet was clogged and hadn’t
been cleaned in weeks, nor had running water.
The beds are situated on concrete blocks too small for the mattress so
it’s easy to lean and go overboard during the night. There are cold showers, flushing toilets, and
tap water just next door at the owners’ house.
There is a tienda that was closed while we were there, but the owner of
our refugio has a little tienda of her own, selling crackers, cookies, beer,
etc. No pasta or rice that I could
see.
The track around the lake is in decent condition and there
is one more refugio that is supposedly nicer along the way. There is a junction a few kilometers down the
road, stay right to cut off a kilometer.
At ten km from the park entrance and refugios is a turnoff to the right
for the other nicer refugio, some 2-3km away.
They are visible. At 15km, the
junction for Sol de Manana appears, though there is no more sign for Laguna
Colorada, only a sign for protecting the environment. There is a little canyon here that would make
a great windbreak as well.
The road up to the pass is in great condition, but is pretty
steep in the beginning. When you begin
nearing the geysers, you’ll see two options, a road to the right and one to the
left of a mountain right in front of you.
Climb up towards the volcano, and then turn left to go directly to the
geysers. The old customs sign as
indicated in the PDF no longer exists.
There is no signed junction for Sol de Manana and we missed the real
junction. So, we instead walked which
was simple and we got to see more than just the main geyser on the road. There are 5 or 6 active fields. The big geysers can’t be seen from the road,
but are down in a little depression. You
will see a few small buildings and a cylindrical tower, the junction is just
before these to the right. If you miss
it, there is another small geyser alongside the road in another kilometer or
two. There is also an abandoned house
near the main geyser.
The road undulates a little further and there are a few
buildings, perhaps for research that would make good windbreaks, though at
5000m (16,400ft) it’d be a cold night.
It might be better to sleep near the geysers as the ground is nice and
warm. After the pass, the descent to
Laguna Chalviri is decent and the view is extraordinary. Once at the lake, you’ll first pass a
national park office, which seems to have an empty room with a door and dirt
floor, but we didn’t ask if we could camp there. I’d recommend continuing 1 kilometer to the
hot springs and few restaurants. There
IS a refugio here, where the owner will not only let you have a bed for 25bs,
but will feed you all the tourists’ leftovers.
We had a pot of cold vegetable soup in the evening and 16 delicious
pancakes waiting for us in the morning with coffee, tea, dulce de leche, and
marmalade all for free. The hot springs
are also a delight, very warm and with a great view of the lake. For 25bs, this place is a cyclists’ oasis!
The road from here through the Dali desert is gradual at
first as says the PDF, but steepens quite a lot at the end. It’s in good condition, no pushing required
if you can cycle on a narrow tire track.
The descent to Laguna Verde is a few kilometers longer than the PDF
indicates and some pushing is still required at the end. I’m not sure if it was just the day, but it
was extremely windy here. The stream crossing
between the two lakes is deep, but there are rocks laid out and it can be
carefully done without getting wet.
There is a chain of refugios near Laguna Blanca, then another nicer one
a kilometer or two further. The owner
has water (treat it) and beds for 60bs, a bit out of budget, but it looked nice
on the inside. The climb from here is
hard with the wind, but the track is in good condition until the paved
road. Note that the paved road does not
start at the customs post as says the PDF, rather is dirt all the way to the
principal road heading to San Pedro. We
didn’t have to pay any exit fee to leave the country and were granted 24 hours
to immigrate to Chile, which is located in San Pedro de Atacama. I have read blogs of cyclists who have
skipped this and snuck through Chile east to Argentina, which I wish I would
have known possible before we descended 2200m to San Pedro!
In Summary, changes for the PDF:
San Juan has vegetables.
The climb from Chiguana should be done on the international road, though
it adds 15-20km. Wifi access and water
for purchase at Laguna Hedionda. No
steep climb to and from the abandoned house near Arbol de Piedra. There is a turnoff for a refugio 10km south
of the refugios near Laguna Colorada on the PDF. There is no sign indicating Laguna Colorada
19km north of Sol de Manana. There is no
customs (aduana) sign near Sol de Manana.
Laguna Chalviri has a fantastic refugio, not only a restaurant. The descent from the pass in Desierto de Dali
to the junction at Laguna Blanca is 18-19km, not 15km. There is a second refugio 2km south of the refugios
near Laguna Blanca on the PDF, but is more expensive than the others. The 5km road from the Bolivian customs office
to the main road (in Chile) is not paved.
All refugios will exchange dollars at 6 to 1 (normally 7 to 1). There is a machine that helps maintain the
road a bit between the park entrance 10km north of Laguna Colorada all the way
south to the border. The coldest
nighttime outside temperature we experienced was -12C at 4650m. The pass near Sol de Manana and the Bolivian
customs post were closed due to snow when we began the route, but opened a few
days later as a machine plowed snow on the road. Winds were out of the North giving us a
tailwind every day except the first two days on the Salar (headwind out of the
West) and the last day through Laguna Verde (crosswind out of the Southwest). We had a sandstorm near Colcha K, reducing
visibility to 50m, and a blizzard with 2cm accumulation near Hotel de Desierto. Good luck!
