November 21, 2025
Route 265-KM107 to KM36
From setting off at 08.30 from the wild campsite by the stream, it is slow going on such a hilly route as it continues steadily upwards for a few kilometres more. Followed by a short steep downhill that levelled out gradually, whereupon begins patchy worn tarmac; and from level to a barely perceivable climb. Furthermore, the wind began blowing from the west and as it is open and exposed, I worried if it got up to strength, it could be a hard day struggling against headwind. In the end, it remained little more than a breeze and later I didn't notice it much.
After that the steep climbs are relentless throughout the day and the equally steep descends are too short lived. It was hot and there was quite a lot of traffic and the sealed road had long reverted back to gravel that each passing vehicle stirred up a cloud of dust in its wake. Usually, three or more cars would all approach at once on a particular steep hill, either coming down or going up forcing me off the firmer middle over to the loose stuff to the side to let them by. While sweat oozed from facial pores combining with the powdery dust to cause stinging irritation.
Nevertheless, when all is said and done, I was surprised at how scenic it is with a long stretch carved into the mountainside above Lago Carrera and at one point descending right down to the water's edge: a pictureque coast road with fresh snow on the mountains on the opposite side.
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I pass a good wild campsite, a stand of lenga trees around 16.30, too early to stop. Unfortunately, the way on is more populated with small farms, fields of cattle and uniform fencing on either side. Later I pass a farm campsite, but there wasn't any one about and in any event, it looked unlikely to have card-payment. Later still, I reach a small village called Mallin Grande with a shop at the roadside where I'd hoped for a cool drink, but it was shut.
However, only a short few hundred metres on as the road swung right and uphill, the fence on the right was down with a well worn trail into lenga woodland. The cows had made a mess with cowpats everywhere, though it was quite a while ago as the pats were dried solid and I managed to find a suitable level spot against a dwarf lenga tree to camp.
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