Features
Over the volcano
By
Gavin Wright : 01-Jul-2010
In the spring of 2009, a team of Australians- three cyclists, one support driver and a dog- tackled a ride in chile from sea level to an altitude of 5,400 metres (17,717 feet).
Starting at the Chilean Pacific coast, the riders (Hugh from Melbourne, Nic from Darwin and Gavin from the Gold Coast) first crossed the Atacama Desert, then cycled steadily up Ojos del Salado, the highest volcano in the world (it rises to 6,893m above sea level).
They battled against a difficult environment, with strong winds blowing at minus 20 degrees, until their wheels ploughed into soft sand at extreme altitude and they could go no farther.
Hugh and I had bikes from the Giant XtC hardtail range, Nic rode a brand new, full suspension Giant Anthem XW Elite. They were not Olympic athletes, but three fit, strong cyclists.
Carolyn (from Albury/Wodonga) was the support driver and Devo (a quiet whippet) was her companion in the car. Two of the team have type 1 diabetes, which added significantly to their accomplishment.
Organisation, permits, research and communication were all done via the internet. The team all knew what to expect before they arrived, but the consistency and condition of the road and track remained a gamble. You can only learn so much from snaps and emails from mountaineers.
The final group email went out two days before flights and simply said: "See you in Santiago."
RIDE REPORT
Day 1: Playa la Virgen to Copiapo, 75km
Having cycled down from Copiapo (the only town in the whole region) the day before and camped on the beach, we lined up first thing and posed for photos in the surf. It was a small stretch of sand on a long rocky coastline with only a couple of red-headed vultures to witness the start of the ride.
Starting the journey meant plunging into the Atacama Desert. Fortunately it was not too hot, but the first 20km was a sandy surface and a path that could be cycled along was sometimes tricky to find. After crossing the dry Copiapo River bed, we joined the Pan-American Highway for about half the day's distance. A mild tailwind pushed us on to the first of the little truck stops on the outer limits of Copiapo, where we wolfed down ice creams.
The last 10km into town was on a rail trail: a superb bike path 2.4m wide with dividing lines along the route of the old narrow-gauge railway to the coast.
It was here that we had the only puncture of the trip. As we rode into Copiapo proper, where municipal gardeners use heavily thorned prunings to keep people off the nature strips, my back wheel got too close, grabbed a branch and that was the end of that inner tube.
Copiapo, at 430m above sea level, is where we hired the four-seater ute, bought all our food and water supplies and left our bike boxes. Here we slept in beds for the night.
Day 2: Copiapo to Vegas de San Andres, 100km
We caught the early morning traffic along the main east-west road out of Copiapo. There were plenty of cars and trucks, but also bikes and we formed a fairly impressive peloton at one point. We reached the right turn for the mountains at 8km and then cycled through a large industrial zone that seemed to disintegrate in stages as we passed. We finally farewelled the last of the ruins, a small building with torn tarps flapping out front, at 23km.
The road led on upwards, although for a large part of the day the rise was almost imperceptible. Mountains now sandwiched us in ever-varying patterns of colours, lines and shapes. The absolutely straight road marked the centre of the absolutely flat valley. The ground around was all rocky and dusty. The road was paved, but worn.
The support vehicle stopped and waited every 10km, just for us all to catch up, eat if necessary and make sure we were still headed in the right direction (although there are only two or three junctions over the next few hundred kilometres).
This slow climb into the Andes was all still in part of the desert, something I hadn't anticipated. It last rained here in 1570 (they still talk about it) and NASA uses these valleys for practising with their Mars machines. The temperature peaked at 38 degrees in the early afternoon. This was enough to have one rider off his bike and recovering in the meagre shade of the support car at 76km, just 6km before the only hard climb of the day.
As the road became steeper, the slope dropped off as a cliff to the left and trucks bullied their way round narrow, blind bends. The climb took us through a slender mountain pass with massive boulders perched overhead.
Just before the 100km mark, we entered a wide, grassy area and pitched our tents at 2,500m above sea level.
Day 3: Vegas de San Andres to Maricunga, 75km
At 20km into the day's ride we passed two mining centres, to the right and left of the road. Immediately afterwards, the road surface deteriorated significantly and became not much more than flattened mud.
We knew the big pinch was coming and about 30km farther on we stopped and looked up at the disappearing zigzags of the road. Up ahead there was no doubt what we were in for, just the question of how far we would ascend.
In fact, we put our heads down and pedalled up from about 3,600m elevation to 4,400m. It's against all the rules to climb this high this quickly, but we knew it was to be followed by the exquisite treat of a 20km, 650m vertical downhill and I was hoping that this very temporary rise to over 4km would get everyone's system working overtime, making more red blood cells to carry oxygen round the body.
After the climb, we sailed down into the huge flat valley of the Maricunga salt lake. We could see the border control post, a brown building on the far side of the valley, from nearly 10km away and this was our goal for the day.
Arriving at the official building, we were told we were welcome to sleep on the floor of their big hall.
Day 4: Day off. Maricunga salt lake and Chilean border control post
At 3,750m above sea level, we were all pleased to take a recovery day and acclimatise. We took turns strolling out into the vast flat plain towards the snow-white crust of salt, soaking in the colours and scale of the mountains rising high around us in every direction.
Devo was glad not to be cooped up in the car all day, but a little wary of a landscape that was quite lunar. The green-uniformed border police were happy for us to stay for two nights and let us use their computer to send emails. Very little traffic passed through the control post.
A desert fox prowled round the perimeter of sheds and containers. We were warned it would be rabid.
Day 5: Maricunga to Refugio Claudio Lucero, 77km
The first 15km ran flat and parallel to the salt lake. When the road finally bent off to the left and started to climb into the hills, we soon spotted vicunas, which are like little llamas, hopping about on the slopes.
The climb became steeper, but not nasty, and we came to the view of the waterfall that we had read about, a startlingly energetic flow of water in an otherwise totally arid land.
The three peaks of Tres Cruces came into view. Distances are very difficult to judge in these landscapes - it was hard to believe that the peaks of these mountains ahead of us were over 2km vertically higher. We finally entered the high plain at 4,300m altitude. The road became corrugated in parts and we passed a sign declaring Zona de Badenes. This meant a roller-coaster. In winter this whole area is deep in snow and when it melts, just for a short while, a massive amount of water flows off the plain. In order for it not to wash the road away, a series of deep dips has been created. Or was it just to take the wind out of high-altitude cyclists?
We still gently climbed - the highest point on this road being 4,600m above sea level, just a few kilometres before the sign we'd all been struggling to reach. The road sign indicates Ojos del Salado, off to the right. In fact, it points straight out into what appears to be a trackless plain of sand and gravel.
The sign is not really in the right spot, but the first of the mountain refuges can be seen from here and the team dutifully laboured their way across the loose surface to the two-storey wooden shack, home for the next two nights.
Day 6: Day off. Refugio Claudio Lucero
This refuge sits at 4,530m altitude, near the start of the track leading up the big volcano. It's actually very comfortable, with two rooms up top, both with wooden beds and mattresses, one room having a floor-to-ceiling window that gives a view of Ojos del Salado, the peak of which is still over 2.3km further up into the sky. There was absolutely nothing to do, though, so we piled into the car and drove about 12km further down the road to Laguna Verde.
Three different types of flamingo can be seen on the shores of this salt-water lake and when the light is right the water glows a stunning bright blue. There are also thermal pools, hollowed into the rocks at the water's edge. In the thin air and biting cold it's sheer pleasure to sink into the hot, steaming water and relax amid the mysterious, floating green blobs.
Day 7: Refugio Claudio Lucero to Refugio Atacama, about 25km
We cycled through some extraordinary scenery on this day. The melting ice and snow forms into jagged, complicated shapes in the warm sunlight and we passed whole fields of this ornate phenomenon. Snow-covered peaks and a barren, grey land now surrounded us.
The track had a high sand content and finding ground solid enough to ride on became a major job. Sticking to the dips of car tracks helped, but any stray rock could knock the back wheel into deep sand and send a cursing cyclist off his pedals. Our Darwin cyclist was lighter on her bike and didn't sink so readily into the sand.
This had the other two riders consoling themselves that any mountain lions (of which we had read rumours) would most likely pick out the smaller, isolated member of the pack.
We had 670m to climb vertically, but the track was still not clear of winter ice and we had to make some major detours. Unfortunately, these all involved riding down a long way to where the melt was passable - and then climbing back up steep slopes to rejoin the trail. It got much colder and the wind became stronger.
Finally arriving at Refugio Atacama (5,200m above sea level), we found that a ranger had taken over the official refuge (a metal container containing four bunks and a table). There was a big dome tent, but this was not for sleeping in - we had to erect our lightweight tents in the howling, freezing wind. We also learnt that the track was not open for motor vehicles past this point, which meant if we wanted to reach the last refuge (Refugio Tejos), we would need to carry packs with tents, water and food.
We could see the track ahead winding steeply up the high slopes.
Day 8: Beyond Refugio Atacama, 1.4km
We had been told that the usual pattern up here was for the wind to drop off at night and start up again about midday. But this was not what we met with. The minus 20 degree winds blew strongly all night and into the morning and the team arose, frozen, tired and in very low spirits. Devo looked a lot like Sir Edmund Hillary in his smart, padded coat, but we could tell he wasn't a happy whippet.
By mid-morning, the few climbers present had packed up their gear and were headed back down the mountain. Conditions were hostile, and no one thought they would reach the top.
The decision was made for us also to leave, but before that happened, two riders wanted one last stab at the track, just to see how far they could get.
Stumbling and constantly remounting our bikes, we managed less than 1.5km on the 16 per cent gradient and in the bitterly cold wind. We eventually had to admit defeat: there was no question here of finding a more solid path to the left or right - it was practically a sheer drop - and the track itself turned completely to soft sand. We could pedal no farther, but the altimeter showed we had reached 5,400m above sea level, higher than Everest base camp. The ute was loaded once more and the team descended in a few hours what had taken so many days to cycle. Driving it all in one go certainly rammed home exactly how high we had climbed. And we had done every centimetre of it on our bicycles.
By nightfall, the whole team was showered, changed and tasting some hard-earned, good quality Chilean wine back in the warmth and comfort of Copiapo.
Notes
Copiapo is about 800km north of the Chilean capital, Santiago, a bus journey of 10 to 12 hours. A company called Aventurismo has the concession on Ojos del Salado. This means that anyone climbing the volcano has to pay it US$160 per person for use of the trails, refuges, emergency assistance, and so on.
A man called Maximiliano Martinez runs Aventurismo, which is based in Copiapo. There are national and local government permits required to travel here, which have to be shown to the Carabineros at various stages. These are free and details of how to get them are on the Aventurismo website.