December 13, 2025
Chalten to Tres Lagos
The activity of pulling yourself up a rockface and in so doing climbing a mountain isn't for the fainthearted, yet many here come to do just that and have to wait sometimes weeks for calm weather to scale peaks such as Mount Fitzroy. Interest in climbing Fitzroy didn't get under way until the late 1940s when it was a feat in itself getting to the foot of the mountain because the only access until comparatively recently was along hundreds of kilometres of rough unpaved roads little more than cart-tracks and once here, having to rely on the hospitality of the one estancia.
As late as October 1985 a law was passed for the contruction of a village with the indigenous Tehuelche name Chalten, mountain of the smoke because of the clouds which rise from it. But it would be well into the 1990s before a small urban centre took shape. It was still a rough and ready frontier place when I first visited in 2004 when they'd only begun building a 90 kilometre access road in from Route 40, which itself was still a rough gravel road.
Today its a far cry from its pioneer origins with a regular bus service, soft-non outdoor types sitting in cafes after having rushed up the many trails to have a closer look at the iconic mountain and many bars where load music oozes out of an evening.
Well, I'm feeling disappointed not having had the opportunity to hike more when here. There was high winds for the whole of my stay. Peter one of our group from the Villa O Higgins hostel did a two day hike, but then he is a professional mountain guide. He was lucky to return Thursday as Friday was an awful day with not only strong wind but driving sleety rain.
Today's forecast is for no precipitation and less windy, so I set off at 09. In reality the wind began blowing around 10 and quickly rises to be as strong as yesterday with incredible icy windchill. Its as well I have that warm down jacket from O Higgins on plus full finger gloves.
The road is east so its tailwind and I'm being pushed along rapidly without pedalling, even on the many gradual uphill sections, the wind pushes the Kona and me up. And from the start to middle there are good vistas of Lago Viedma off across open country to the right before disappearing from view for the remainder of the 90 kilometres to joint route 40, which I cover in three and a half hours.
At the junction with 40 is an attractive shelter provided by the road services for travellers, all windows so its light inside; where I eat my peanut butter and banana sandwich. It is good to escape the wind. Shortly after pushing the Kona inside, a motorcyclist enters with helmet under his arm and egghead shaven head shivering from the cold wind. On introduction he said he was Swiss and I was stroke by his ressemblence to a Swiss cyclist Oliver I cycled with almost 20 years ago, the same Swiss-German mannerism, albeit aged 20 years, so I ask his name and he replies Cristoff. Not the same person, yet so alike.
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Presently, as I write up my journal before heading out again, two French cyclists turn up and push their bikes inside. They are heading to Tres Lagos, northbound on the 40 although the actual road continues east, which I will take too as southbound is impossible today due to the wind.
Later I set off before them but they soon come and fly pass me without pedalling, so strong is the tailwind and they seem to be throwing caution to the wind swerving across the full width of the road. Further on as they're slowed by a crosswind section I close the gap and after the road veers back to tailwind, I fly pass making a motorbike noise to laughter all around.
We cover the 35 kilometres to Tres Lagos in one and a half hours. It feels like deja vous for me having been stuck here for a few days in 2023 as the three of us enter the municipal campsite.
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