Ride2Tale — From Bariloche to Tierra del Fuego: Deep Patagonia and the End of the World

"We finally make it to Tierra del Fuego. Unbelievable."

From Bariloche to the end of the world: three weeks, two countries, one glacier, one border crossing with a full search, a track that will go down as the most beautiful of the whole trip, and a ferry that finally drops us on Tierra del Fuego. We're almost there!

El Bolson and Route 40: A Gentle Start

We leave El Bolson with a still-damp tent and a suspicious noise coming from Thomas's bike within the first 50 meters. Immediate stop to tighten the exhaust header mount. We set off again aiming for Los Alerces national park via provincial route 71, but at Cholila we learn the access road is closed due to wildfires. U-turn, back to route 40. Disappointing, but the scenery from the asphalt is already stunning. Mountains, towns that feel like oases, lakes right along the road. We pull into a lakeside campsite around 6:30pm: 30,000 pesos for two, charcoal for the asado included — perfect.

Messi or Mbappé? The Chilean Border

The next day, we cross into Chile for the first time. Border crossings are always a moment of their own. Even in Latin America where it's relatively straightforward, every country does it differently — so we dive into this new experience. Argentine side: 45 minutes in line, and the inevitable question from the guard lifting the barrier. Messi or Mbappé? "Claro que acá es Messi." Right answer, we're through. Five kilometers later, Chilean side: computer declaration, immigration, T.I.P. filled out on the fly — no chassis number, just the make and model written by hand by Adeline. We tried to bring it up, but the officer made it clear it was fine… fingers crossed! Then: first luggage search since we left. The honey goes in the bin. But we're in Chile: it's green, it's beautiful, and the salmon at lunch was excellent.

Route 41: The Most Beautiful Track of the Trip

Two riders named Pablo we met in Chos Malal had recommended it: Route 41 from Los Antiguos to Lago Posadas. We went back and forth on it for a long time, but after much deliberation — and Adeline's insistence — we go for it. 160 km of Argentine ripio on a wide, rideable track. From the very first bend, we're hooked: rivers, snow-capped mountains, Patagonian light. After every climb, a new landscape we didn't see coming. We're blown away and can't understand why there's nobody else out here. Not a single tourist. Just us. We pass a few Americans on bikes with a guide, but that's it — despite jaw-dropping panoramas every ten minutes. Without hesitation, this is the most beautiful track since the start of the trip. We arrive in Lago Posadas exhausted and happy, convinced we made the right call, while most people stick to route 40.

Los 73 Malditos: Turns Out It's Fine

Adeline had been dreading this for weeks. This road, legendary among bikers, notorious for its rocks and brutal ripio. Thomas was convinced it couldn't be worse than what we'd already done. He was right. Big rocks, dry dirt sections, sure. But at 60-70 km/h in an hour, it's done. We're almost a little disappointed. Three months of off-road riding, good tires, confidence built kilometer by kilometer — we get through it. We stop for lunch in Tres Lagos, cross paths with some French riders heading to Ushuaïa, and push on toward El Chalten. As we approach, the Fitz Roy appears on the horizon for kilometers under a perfect sky. We take a ridiculous number of photos. We finally arrive at La Casa de Los Bicicletas, which admittedly looks like a hippie squat, but the sheets are clean and at 40,000 Argentine pesos a night, it's perfect.

El Calafate, the Oil Change, and the Glacier

El Calafate is the tourist town of tourist towns. English, French, Chinese spoken everywhere. Not really our scene, but a necessary stop. We had a full agenda: oil change on the AJP, laundry, Perito Moreno glacier. Except on day one, Thomas wakes up with a sharp pain in his thigh, unable to get up — no idea why, probably a wrong move the day before and the creeping approach of 40… Anti-inflammatories, forced rest. By early afternoon he's better. He does the oil change himself, the AJP is ready for another 5,000 km.

The next day we ride to the glacier. Crowds, inevitably. But the spectacle is worth it: chunks of ice breaking off with a deep boom, the shades of blue, the sheer scale. Honestly, it hit us less hard than Iguazu, but it's still exceptional. We stay a long time, listening, watching. A moment outside of time.

Torres del Paine in the Wind

Puerto Natales is the logical stop before Torres del Paine. We run into Denis, 64 years old, traveling by sidecar after some heart trouble. We'd actually crossed paths with Denis on the road several times without ever managing to talk to him. This time, we finally get to meet him. Thomas and Denis end up talking for hours while Adeline sets up the tent in the hostel garden.

The next day, we head into Torres del Paine. It's cold, windy, and the access track is corrugated. But the mountains, the lakes, the lookouts — this is exactly our kind of thing. The landscape here is unreal, it doesn't get more "Patagonia" than this. We spend three hours crossing the park, stopping at every viewpoint. On the way back, Thomas's reserve light comes on: 100 km to cover on 5 liters. We pray. Thanks to tips from other travelers, we manage an emergency fill-up in Cerro Castillo at a "station" that's not exactly official. Enough to cover the last 80 km of straight road ahead — into a headwind, naturally, just to round off the day nicely.

Punta Arenas and the End of the World Within Reach

Punta Arenas is cold and windy. But la Guarida, the biker hangout garage in town, is a find: friendly owners, an improbable Buell at the back of the shop, coffee on the house. We talk tires and routes.

The next day we head out to Punta Arbol. 40 km of asphalt, then a track that runs right along the beach — we're riding on sand. We reach the very tip, the point where going further without a boat is simply impossible. The sea, the mountains, the wind, the silence. We eat our picnic on the beach. The scenery is incredible.

The Ferry, Tierra del Fuego

February 20: ferry from Punta Arenas to Porvenir. Two hours crossing the Strait of Magellan. We load the bikes, watch the water pass by. And then, arriving: Tierra del Fuego. Unbelievable to finally be here. We set our wheels on the island around 7:30pm. The room at Hotel 644 in Porvenir has a sea view — rustic, traditional, perfect. Ushuaïa is not far now.