Cowboys on the Carretera

The Carretera Austral is the name given to the road that runs 1800km the southern mountainous section of Chile, starting in the north at Puerto Montt at 41º south and ending at 49º south at Villa O'Higgins and the northern end of the Southern Patagonian icecap. Along it's route it winds past jagged mountain peaks, majestic fjords, huge inland lakes and lush temperate forest. The centre of the region is Coyhaique, the only population centre of any size, and the best place to use as a base for exploring the southern section of the road, which is what Ray and I intended to do.

We had planned to meet in Coyhaique after making the journey across from Argentina. This trip involved first a bus from Perito Moreno, then a micro from Los Antiguos across the border to Chile Chico, then a ferry across Lago General Carrera, then another micro to Coyhaique. You never know quite how far you are going to get when you attempt this all unplanned, and I met Ray in Chile Chico waiting for the ferry that had never left the day before. A few hours later and we were in a nice hostel in Coyhaique, and booked on a 3 days horseriding trip that a couple of Fench guys in the hostel were waxing lyrical about. Despite both of us being pretty much beginnners, the idea of several days in the saddle exploring the surrounding countryside sounded great.


Starting out

The day after we found ourselves in the company of Omar and Oscar, two Chilean cowboys who spoke no English, along with 5 horses - mine was called Crystal (or the Spanish equivalent). After being given a pair of chaps and a poncho we headed off in to the unknown - literally. It was a learning process as we began the steep climb up the mountain we were heading for, initially through green pastures then into thick beech forest. Accompanying up along the way were the 3 farm dogs, with seemingly infinite energy and enthusiasm. We picked our way upwards through dense woodland until we reached the tree line and emerged onto a barren hilltop, where there were excellent views of the surrounding country. We stopped shortly after for lunch – after 3 hours in the saddle I was a little stiff but not too bad – the horses had been walking almost all the way though.

Lunch was a parilla, the traditional barbequing of meat over an open fire, and we enjoyed steaks and beer before a short siesta in the warm sun. After a while we moved on, up the mountain, moving into patches of snow and scree as we reached the top in a chill wind. From here we could see Cerro Castillo, a collection of impressive mountain peaks some 50km south. The surrounding countryside was characterised by deforested valley bottoms dotted with ranches and steep wooded hills and mountains - it was beautiful, but not hard to see the scars when looking at the degree of deforestation.


On top of the mountain

We headed off the other side of the mountain towards the ski station – down precipitous slopes that left our lives fully in the footwork of our horses. Without mishap we descended to the empty ski lodge where we were to spend our first night – 4 people dwarfed by the huge wooden structure, sitting close around the stove to keep warm as the temperatures droppd below zero.


Oscar - how to pose as a cowboy

The following morning we set off in thick frost, and my poncho came in handy for the first time. As the sun rose it burned off the cloud lying in the valley and we rejoined the ripio roads to make our way to Lago Frio, a beauty spot where we enjoyed another parilla with pork and beer this time. The parilla is different from the other kind of barbeque common here – an asado. The asado involves barbequing a huge quantity of meat over a fire on a spit shoved in the ground – the parilla is a more typical grill over the fire arrangement.


In the morning cold

Moving on in the afternoon, we cut through more forests in a warming sun that took the cold out of the wind. I was beginning to feel a little stiff and sore; both Ray’s and my horse tended to walk slowly then trot a little to catch up with Omar and Ocsar – and not being an expert at rising trot I took it all sitting, and in increasing amounts of pain.

The forest was alive here with locals collecting freshly cut wood for the winter, but there were also vast quanities of wood left lying on the ground from ancient operations to clear land for ranching, mostly stacked in piles and left to rot. That night we camped by Lago Pollux, in a tranquil spot by a lake where we enjoyed another parilla. The only thing missing was marshmellows as we warmed ourself by the fire and looked at the stars.


Beside the camp fire

The morning dawned grey and cold, with a light but steady drizzle that persisted for most of the morning as we moved towards Lago Castor on our route back. Here the ponchos truly showed their worth, keeping out wind and rain, and keeping in warmth. Crystal, my horse, threw a shoe at some point and went lame – from thereon my saddlesore state was compounded by her uneven gait but there was no alternative but to carry on.
We crossed the ridge back into our starting valley at a much lower point – the mountain we had first gone up was in cloud and there was a suggestion of snow at the top. We soon came back in sight of our estancia, not too early for me as I was in increasing amounts of pain. We got back in time to enjoy some refreshing maté, national drink of Argentina and locally adopted here in Chile, and said fond goodbyes to our horses before relinquishing our ponchos and chaps. These would have made totally inpractical but great souvenirs, but I had my eye on getting some full leg goatskin (with wool!) chaps somewhere.


Me and Crystal

The following morning, clean and rather stiff (myself, at least) Ray and I had a lazy morning as we collected our Toyota HiLux 4x4, to begin our adventure south to Villa O’Higgins. We didn't leave until late afternoon and enjoyed the paved road and views through Cerro Castillo as the sun went down between the stilleto peaks. We reached the end of the paved section and the beginning of the ripio that would accompany us for the next few hundred kilometres, and started looking for a place to camp as darkness fell.


Morning on the Carretera

We wild camped a short way off the road beside a river, and slept out in the open to watch the incredibly bright stars. I woke in the morning covered in a layer of frost and ice, half frozen with cold. We headed on after a leisurely, warming breakfast, continuing south through the forested mountain scenery until we reached Lago General Carrera, and began driving around the huge lake.


"We may need the 4 wheeel drive for this one..."

The weather was fine - still, sunny, and the views were superb. Shortly after a lunch stop beside the lake we had the tremendous good fortune to meet Felipe, a Santiago businessman and owner of a ranch in an isolated area outside of the town of Cochrane. After getting talking he invited us to his ranch to watch the annual round-up and branding of calves, a big event on the Patagonian calendar which is as much of a social occasion as a chance to show off skills with a lasso. We enthusiastically accepted, and arranged to get to his ranch, 30km off the Carretera, the day after next.


North of Cochrane

We continued down to Cochrane that evening - Felipe described the weather as the best day he had seen in 10 years in the region - and camped in the middle of town. The town, population 500, was well equipped and had a friendly atmosphere. We decided to visit Caleta Tortel, some 120km to the south, the next day before our ranch trip.

Caleta Tortel is a unique village that started life as a fishing and timber town, built almost entirely on stilts on the edge of a steep fjord, and reachable only by boat. Two years ago a road reached the town, and this will probably change it forever, but for the moment life still goes on as it always has on the beech wood walkways that connect the village as it wraps itself around the fjord's rocky edges. The town sits at the southern edge of the Northern icecap, but lies in a valley full of lush vegetation characteristic of temperate rain forest. It is a little disorientating to be looking at such a huge diversity plants whilst only 500m higher a glacier lies on a mountain - a juxtaposition unique to Patagonia. It was drizzling as we explored the town, slipping on the boardwalks whilst uncovering the range of houses from tiny old shacks to huge new houses, all built on stilts in a lightweight wood frame construction. There was a quiet atmosphere to the town, almost as if no one really lived there, and it was slighlty eerie and gloomy - if not very interesting. Ray and I headed back for our camp in Cochrane after a few hours to continue with our cooking on the open fire efforts - so far paying us off with excellent results.


Caleta Tortel


The following morning was wet as we started the 2 hours drive to cover the 30kmn to Felipe's ranch, La Colonia. The ranch sits on the southern bank of the Baker River, the largest river in Chile, with views north to the icecap and mountains. The first 15km of road are reasonable ripio, after which the drive is truly an off road experience - the first vehicles reached the ranch about 5 years ago, before which it was an 8 hours horse ride to Cochrane for supplies. In the rain the going was very muddly and more than once we wondered if we were on the right track, but eventually we reached the 2 new cabins, old house and fogon that comprise the heart of the ranch. Felipe was very pleased to see us, and glad that we had persevered through the mud to get there. He introduced us to his cousin Bernardo, an agribusiness consultant who also acted as veterinary adviser for the ranch. Felipe was a warm, kind and generous host, who went far out of his way to make us feel welcome and at home. He gave us a tour of the buildings - the new cabins were only 2 years old and the height of luxury, whilst the old house was 100 years old and full of the history of the ranch, permeated with the smell of must and leather. He took us to the fogon, a hut containing a fire and asado, that is the social heart of a ranch where the cowboys will gather to eat. We were introduced to all the cowboys, who were sitting out the rain and drinking maté, waiting for the side of beef ribs to finish cooking.


In the fogon, asado on the go

The day's events were postponed until after lunch due to the rain; Felipe took us for a horse ride to see the Baker River, then we returned to the fogon for an early asado in the hope the weather cleared. The meat had been taken from a freshly slaughtered calf that morning and was excellent. The typical Patagonian way of eating is for a cowboy to use his own knife to trim meat off the asado and eat it with a small amount of bread. Because of our presence and el patrón Felipe's, we were honoured with plates and fresh salad as the cowboys ate in their normal fashion.


In the old house

After lunch the weather cleared and the task began of first worming the cows, then branding the calves. As the cows were wormed I had some inteesting chats in Spanish with Bernardo - he was very clued up about local disease status and health control. The ranch was 14,000 acres but could support only 280 cows plus followers, and 500 sheep. The severity of the winter here is a major limiting factor in the beautiful country, but the beauty disguises a shortage of suitable pasture that would allow 30 times that number of cows in the UK.


Chewing the fat with Bernardo

After the cows came the real action of the day - branding the calves. Small numbers of calves are run around in a corral containing several cowboys, all wielding rawhide lassos, and they endeavour to rope both front legs of the calf and trip them up, before pinning them to the floor and branding them. There is incredible skill in the timing, accuracy and strength required to lasso calves, and the skill is a source of pride and friendly competition, as well as a small amount of showmanship for the spectators. Usually neighbours from surounding ranches will attend these days, often meeting people that they would only see twice a year.


Don Hector, ranch foreman

After 30 or so calves had been caught traditionally, the quicker and safer method of branding them in the race was adopted. We retired to the fogon, to enjoy another asado (the other side of ribs) before staying the night in the old house, full of history and maybe a ghost or two.


Catching calves....

The next morning dawned bright and almost clear - there was a dusting of snow on the mountains that had not been there previously and a nip in the air. After a typical breakfast - reheated beef from the night before - we left for the corral where the next batch of cows and calves were ready. As the cows were wormed Ray and I walked up a nearby hill to get a better view of the estancia, the Baker River and the icecap to the north, and descended in time to see the branding start.


Felipe (left) and Ray

As the action was taking place there was an asado cooking by the fire next to the corral, a traditional cut of the entire underside of beef from pectorals to udder, complete with skin and hair on one side. It is quite unusual to see this cooked as it requires time, skill and an unusual cut of meat, only possible if you slaughter your own animals.


Lasso!


All too soon the calves were finished, and Ray and I realised we would have to make the journey back to Cochrane after lunch. We tried to eat in traditional style - I certainly hadn't mastered trimming your own meat off the asado, and we ate in the quiet sun sipping beer and enjoying the atmosphere. Shortly afterwards we said our goodbyes to the cowboys and our heartfelt thanks to Felipe, and made our way back to reality after our brief immersion in genuine Patagonian culture.


More asado

The journey back seemed half as long as we talked about everything that we had seen - truly an experience money could not buy - and before long we were back in Cochrane, looking at the snow that now covered the peaks around the town. We decided against going all the way south to O'Higgins - the weather was turning and we wanted to be somewhere warmer. So the next day we sped back to Coyhaique, surprised by the amount of snow that had fallen in just a few days, especially in Cerro Castillo where it had reached the road. Back in Coyhaique and we made arrangements to head further north to Chaiten, 400km futher north and in the heart of the temperate rainforest that characterises the northern section of the Carretera Austral. Winter here is coming, from the snow on the mountains to the chill in the air to the frost in the morning, and I want to feel warm again!


Cerro Castillo

Ray and I got to Chaiten, Ray having abandoned his plans to cross back in to Argentina when his connecting bus vanished. So we spent a couple of days enjoying the hot pools, mud baths, crashing waterfalls, 3000 year old trees and dense forest, all in incessant rain.


Hot pool and mud bath......

...crashing waterfalls.....

.... and 3000 year old trees

It was nice, but not on a par with our southern Carretera travels, and after 2 days we took the overnight ferry north to Puerto Montt, heading for the famous Lake District of Patagonia.


Tree hugger!