Coyhaique, 6 a.m., the race that started a year ago begins: Across Andes Patagonia Verde 2023. It was time to put into practice what I had learned and trained for over the past year: Gravel punks: DNF, Brevet 200 Yerba Loca: Finisher, Brevet 400 Tunquén: DNF (hit by a car: loss of the bike and multiple contusions), Saga 150: Finisher, and Gravel Coast 240: Finisher. I had to gather the experiences from these successes and failures to make the best of what would be a monumental task that we would overcome with heart and mind.
Before the race and that very morning, we all had the same question, considering the weather ahead: Will the gear I have be enough? Will the clothing technology hold up? That day was partly cloudy, with intermittent sun making the heat overwhelming. Many on the road had to shed layers, others opened their jackets, all anticipating the hostile weather approaching. Meanwhile, we took advantage of this window of good weather and a top-notch gravel road to El Blanco, where we would make our first stop to resupply since there would be almost no opportunities to do so for the next 160 km. We continued, at this point in the race, we saw a lot of people everywhere, and we advanced at a steady pace until we reached Coyhaique Alto, where the scarcity of water was noticeable, and it was unsafe to drink from any stream due to livestock and mineralized soil.
From this point, the weather began to worsen; the cold started to be felt, rain began to fall, and CP1 was still over 80 kilometers away. From here, the weather factor became part of the equation, advancing the rest with rain made it a complicated task. We began to put on all our technical rain gear, which protected us for a while, but like everything in life, nothing is infallible; it eventually gave in to the cold and rain. Lesson: no Gore-Tex withstands more than 3 hours in the rain. We advanced, encountering some runners on the way, the cold was hitting hard on some. Although my clothes were wet, they allowed me to keep warm, which saved me until reaching Ñirehuao. Pia from One Drop greeted me upon arrival, saying, "You look very good, keep strong!" I entered the shelter and realized why she said that.
There were many people, sheltering from the rain, trying to dry their clothes and eat something to regain strength. The rain and the night prevented me from advancing despite being physically complete, my gut told me it was better to take shelter. Inside the building, we were safe from the rain and even the snow that fell in some areas.
Many conversations were heard, some wanted to continue, others to withdraw, so the ghost of withdrawal made its appearance. After thinking it over, I thought: "Worrying now won't help, it's best to try to sleep, tomorrow with a cooler head, I'll see." I woke up with a calm mind and thought: "I must continue, I'll see how to advance town by town." I started talking to some who had already decided to withdraw. Some teammates withdrew, while others, like me, decided to continue, reaffirming my decision. In the end, if something happened, we wouldn't be alone. A group was formed with Felipe, Francisco, and Rulo. We would become companions in the long journey ahead, which allowed us to feel safer and look for food and lodging town by town.
We left Ñirehuao heading to Mañihuales. The clothes we left to dry overnight didn't dry completely, so the second set was necessary. We started the journey with a small window of sun around 7 a.m. to take a rolling road with two well-pronounced climbs. Here we got soaked to the bone, the wind and cold did their part, so we saw it necessary to stop in Mañihuales to dry clothes and get a hot meal. We found the Ruta 7 hostel, which kindly took us in and prepared lunch. Around 4 p.m., we planned the route; that day the goal was Villa Amengual and to sleep in the casona del Bosque in the next town and eat well. That day we would do approximately 120 km with relentless rain. We arrived at Villa Amengual and decided to plan the route, knowing we couldn't cover such a conservative distance again. The goal for the next day was to reach CP2 and seal the race. This included passing through Queulat Pass, Puyuhuapi, La Junta, and reaching Lago Verde, talking about over 220 km with plenty of gravel.
The next morning at 5:00 a.m., we got up, it was still raining non-stop, but the forecast indicated it would decrease, and we would face scattered showers on the route. The mind was clear, and the objective was certain: to conquer CP2.
We faced Queulat, which turned out to be quite friendly as the way up was paved. Reaching the summit after 500 meters of climbing, the fun began. The north side of Queulat was unpaved, so we had an entertaining descent of dirt. We took the road to Puyuhuapi between pavement and dirt, arriving in town around noon. We sat down to eat some completos and cakes to then continue our journey on a paved road to La Junta. We stopped at the Copec in La Junta for more food, knowing that Lago Verde was a 4-hour gravel route with nothing to resupply. The beginning of the route had loose gravel, requiring a lot of effort to pedal, about 7 km, to then reach wonderful gravel, quite climbing but also rolling. Hours passed, and we advanced until we entered the night, seeing the lights of Lago Verde from afar, with a spectacular view. We got into position to use the aerobars, and in a few pedal strokes, we reached the town. Unlike CP1, here we could dry our clothes, and the locals had food to supply us. We decided to find lodging and slept in town, with the mission to rest well since we had achieved the goal of conquering CP2 a day before the closing.
The next day we woke up at 8 a.m., to have a delicious country breakfast prepared by the place's owner where we stayed, a marvel, then we set off towards La Junta. The way back was somewhat downhill, making it quite rolling, and the climbs were short. We arrived at La Junta around 1 p.m., resupplied, and decided to take a calm day since we didn't need to reach Puerto Balmaceda due to the CP being closed due to bad weather. We decided to take advantage of this and return to Puyuhuapi, which would host us that night. We ate well and decided to rest, planning to reach the finish line the next day, which would involve facing a little over 200 kilometers with plenty of gravel.
The last day of the long journey awaited us. We rested and ate well, had breakfast, and my stomach started acting up. I decided not to give it much importance since I only had reaching the finish line in my mind. We set off at 6 a.m. to face the longest climb of the journey, Queulat but on dirt, a 9 km climb with 500 meters of ascent on dirt. I took it at a steady but consistent pace. We crowned the top of Queulat and felt that the job was done. We headed towards Amengual, not knowing that from here the route for me would be a battle against my stomach, which wouldn't let me eat anything more, and I could only drink water, so my pace slowed down. My mind began to cloud with ideas until, after a few stops, I managed to feel better. I only thought that I had to reach that day; so much work couldn't be wasted. This feeling was greater than the pain, so I decided to continue and continue. I don't have much clarity on how I was going or how much I was advancing, I just focused on pedaling until we reached Mañihuales. We stopped at the Copec, refilled water, and said, "only 70 km left." I took some medication, and with my stomach somewhat more under control, we set off towards the finish line. Leaving Mañihuales, we faced a headwind on the highway, which was really a battle. We kept advancing, fighting against the wind until we reached the detour towards Villa Ortega. Here, the dirt began, with climbs that, although not the hardest of the race, were in a straight line, feeling like they never ended. To avoid exhausting my mind further, I pedaled these straights looking at the ground, listening to music. We reached Villa Ortega, and a cement section began, leading to the last descent before reaching Coyhaique. I managed to eat a fruit, and with my colleague Rulo, we encouraged each other, saying: "We're almost there, let's go, we can make it." Honestly, the stomach didn't matter anymore, and emotions began to surface. Although the gravel road was quite bad, it was downhill, so we had to take advantage of it. We reached the final detour towards Coyhaique, knowing we had only a few kilometers left. With images of the race in my mind, having overcome the hardest day for me due to my stomach pain; emotions overwhelmed me, a tear escaped, and I began to think about my family, how important they are. Even though you do this for yourself, in some way, they are all part of this journey. I constantly thanked them for being attentive to me throughout the journey. My wife, my three children, my parents, my sisters, and my sister-in-law, so many emotions ran through my mind until I reached the finish line, where the great Gravel Academy was waiting for us with fan
Maybe I’ve left some things out, but I tried to be as honest and concise as possible in this account. Ultimately, I believe that Across Andes is something you have to experience. People can tell you about it, but living it through your own sensations is something else entirely. It’s truly something beautiful; you learn to know yourself and discover where your limits lie. Thank you for reading this far, a hug!
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