Chile Declares New Patagonian Parks Route

Long segments of the Carretera Austral still pass through wild areas with few or no services.

Imagine a highway through the wildest parts of Alaska’s Panhandle—where the terrain allows no continuous roads—and, if you look south, you’ll find the rough equivalent in Chile’s Carretera Austral. It passes through a thinly peopled region of sprawling steppes and craggy volcanic uplands, dense rainforests surrounding soaring summits, powerful whitewater rivers, and deep fjords and navigable channels with countless islands, marine mammals, and even glaciers that reach the sea. It makes a matchless road trip, with world-class adventure options for cycling, trekking, climbing, rafting, and kayaking, along a track that, relatively speaking, is still barely marked—much less beaten.

The Piedra del Gato viaduct bridges a section of the narrow Río Cisnes canyon.

In the early 1990s, the late environmental philanthropist Douglas Tompkins and his widow Kristine McDivitt envisioned a project to preserve Patagonia’s thinly populated Aisén region in an interconnected system of national parks. On a continent where skeptics have traditionally viewed large landholdings, especially those controlled by foreigners, with suspicion, they created the 1,117-square mile Parque Pumalín and the 1,015 square-mile Parque Patagonia—formerly a sheep ranch—with the intention of donating them to the Chilean state.

Kristine McDivitt (center) speaks to a group of potential donors at Parque Patagonia.

In some parts of the region, wire fences still keep sheep from becoming roadkill but, in others, the removal of sheep and fences has allowed native wildlife like guanacos to thrive, restoring a wildness that ranching had diminished but could not destroy. Now, after adding stylish infrastructure to mimic parks like Yellowstone and Yosemite, the Tompkins vision has finally gained approval from the Chilean government, which just announced creation of a Ruta de los Parques—“Route of the Parks”—that will promote a string of wildlands in the country’s southernmost region. Several existing reserves will be upgraded to national park status.

In the new Ruta del los Parques, access should improve to little-visited units like Parque Nacional  Corcovado.

Chile’s national parks will soon occupy a percentage of its territory comparable to that of Costa Rica, a much smaller country. In a Santiago memorial service, Socialist President Michelle Bachelet described Tompkins as a “world-class philanthropist.”

Highway improvements should reduce incidents like my encounter with a bus on a blind curve.

As pavement and other improvements proceed on a highway that’s still mainly gravel (and where I myself have wrecked two 4WD vehicles, with extenuating circumstances), 2018 will be a key year—the coming austral summer will be the first full season for the Ruta de los Parques. Even as the region’s appeal becomes better known and the infrastructure improves—long segments of the highway still have few or no services—the surrounding area should become an ever wilder attraction.

Parque Pumalín from the new trail to the crater of Volcán Chaitén

Defining Patagonia

As the Southern Hemisphere spring and summer approach, my thoughts turn to Patagonia – I’ll be updating my guidebook to the region later this year - but many of us have only a vague idea what that means. Consequently, I’d like to try to define the region that has stimulated the imagination since Ferdinand Magellan first landed there in the 16th century.

Intending visitors may think first of iconic landscapes like those at Torres del Paine (pictured at top) and the Perito Moreno Glacier (pictured above) but, most broadly, Patagonia comprises much of southernmost South America (mostly Argentina, but also parts of Chile). Its name probably derives from the first aboriginal inhabitants that early explorers encountered – “Patagones,” roughly translated as “people with big feet.” Though its etymology is unclear, this descriptive term for people who dwarfed the Spaniards in stature may have originated with Magellan’s Italian chronicler Antonio Pigafetta.

Hearsay grew that legend, as the 18th-centurty illustration above suggests, but the region’s native people are still a good starting point for defining the region. Until the late 19th century, the Tehuelche, Mapuche, Huilliche, Puelche and other mobile peoples dominated the area south of the Río Colorado (in Argentina) and the Río Biobío (on the Chilean side), and they are still a presence today – most conspicuously in Chile.

Broadly speaking, those boundaries still exist today: by broad consensus, Argentine Patagonia consists of the mainland provinces south of the Colorado - Río Negro, Neuquén, Chubut and Santa Cruz - plus its sector of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago (the sign in the photo above, taken at the Colorado, says "Patagonia starts here"). Much of this is a “Big Sky Country” – think Montana, but with an Atlantic coastline populated by marine mammals (whales and seals) and penguins.

In Chile, Patagonia traditionally begins at the channels and fjords of the thinly populated and densely forested Aisén region (pictured below) – almost roadless until recently - where ferries and airplanes have long been the main means of transportation. It’s an area that resembles British Columbia and the Alaska Panhandle.

Chile’s southernmost region of Magallanes, which includes part of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago, is indisputably Patagonia, but the more northerly “Lakes District” south of the Biobío has actively embraced the designation – in that sense, “Patagonia” is becoming an informal brand (rather than a line of clothing). In an area resembling Oregon and Washington, this brings the Chilean boundaries more closely in line with those in Argentina, and cross-border travel is routine here.

Geographically, Argentine Patagonia about the same size as Texas or Turkey, and Chilean Patagonia roughly comparable to Germany, but environmentally speaking the differences are striking. As you travel west, Argentine Patagonia’s thinly vegetated steppe (pictured above) turns to southern beech forest as it approaches the relict glacial lakes on both sides of the Andes (as pictured below). Farther south, the steppe becomes Magellanic moorland, while the glaciers and icefields still survive – a great reason to get to know this vast area, but far from the only one.

Patagonia's Marbled Caverns

Frequently, on this blog, I have described the Carretera Austral as Patagonia’s top road trip. I’m fortunate enough to revisit the area almost every year, but I haven’t yet described many of its attractions – which, despite the wild country, are often close to the highway.

At the town of Puerto Río Tranquilo, about 220 km south of the Aisén regional capital of Coyhaique via a mostly paved route, a cluster of roadside trailers, tents and containers advertise tours to the Capilla de Mármol, a string of swirling marble grottos at the west end of Lago General Carrera. It’s a huge lake, covering nearly 2,000 square kilometers in Chile and Argentina (where it goes by the name Lago Buenos Aires), but motorboat excursions to the caverns take only a couple hours – wind permitting. Trips are usually on a first-come, first-served basis.

Boatmen from Río Tranquilo carry half a dozen passengers or so to the grottos, gradually exposed to view by wave action over several thousand years. Marble is physically strong but chemically weak, accounting for the smooth surfaces.

Some of the grottos are small islands, but most of them hug the shore where, in good weather, the boats can enter. In some cases, passengers can leave the boat to explore the caverns, but walking even short distances on slippery marble entails a risk. The excursion is best in late summer or early autumn, when lake levels are at their lowest and boats can approach more closely and enter more deeply.

Puerto Río Tranquilo’s just a village with only about 500 residents but, returnin from the boat ride, there’s a new brewpub restaurant, Cervecería Río Tranquilo, just across the two-lane road. There’s also an improving accommodations scene, led by Refugio El Puesto.

Chile Is Kuchen Country

When contemplating Patagonia, travelers eagerly anticipate the lakes, forests, mountains, fjords and other wildlands of this scenic, thinly populated region. Until they actually arrive, though, they don’t usually give much thought to the food that will sustain them – except for Argentine beef and Chilean seafood, the cuisines of both countries have a low profile, but be ready for some surprises.

In the northern hemisphere winter, fresh fruit from southernmost South America – such as blueberries and raspberries – has become a common sight in supermarkets. In season, in Chile, these and other fruits give their flavors to kuchen, the Germanic goodies that owe their origins to-19th century immigrants who settled throughout a lakes district that stretches several hundred miles from the city of Temuco south to Puerto Montt, the home port for ferries to southernmost Patagonia.

Kuchen – a word that Chileans pronounce similarly to the original German, but do not capitalize as a proper noun – are a common dessert on Patagonian cruises, but they’re readily available throughout the country. Chileans devour them at onces (“elevenses”), a late afternoon tea that bridges the time between lunch and a relatively late dinner.

Chilean kuchen are diverse, ranging from pies to pastries to coffee cakes and cheesecakes, but my own favorites have more filling than crust – particularly if that filling is berries, but a strudel-like version is also common. Some people enjoy the presence of caramelized manjar (the Chilean word for dulce de leche), but that’s too sickly sweet for my taste.

There are quality kuchen almost everywhere, but I’ll offer a few recommendations here. Only 20 minutes from Puerto Montt, the lakeside town of Puerto Varas has multiple bakeries and a summer artisan’s market (pictured above) whose kuchen stands are a big attraction. A bit farther north, known for its stunningly modern theater, the village of Frutillar features the tiny but tasty Kuchenladen and a formal teahouse, surrounded by lavender, that goes by the name Lavanda.

Kuchenladen has a branch in the more northerly resort of Pucón, where Cassis (pictured near top) is also a good choice; in the Aisén regional capital of Coyhaique the best choice is Café de Mayo. Farther south, at Puerto Natales, try the Kau Lodge’s Coffeemaker (pictured below); in Punta Arenas, go for Chocolatta.