As we pedaled toward the northern limit of Patagonia, the vast landscape continued to surprise and challenge us. Argentina’s celebrated Route 40 led us across treeless, windswept mesas and picturesque canyons where we pitched our tent far from the few, frontier towns. Along the way we shared the road with herds of goats being driven to new pastures for the winter. And in one small village we experienced a scene right out of Alfred Hitchcock’s movie The Birds. With a little help from some kind locals, we managed to keep moving forward - no matter how fiercely the winds blew.

After cycling the Carretera Austral, we chose to cross the Andes quickly, trading Chile’s rainforests for Argentina’s arid foothills. The Pan-American Highway took us along the edge of one of Chile’s largest lakes, with towering volcanos in the distance. The volcanos’ destructive power was evident as we cycled over a mountain pass lined with ghostly dead trees. We then traveled along the Seven Lakes Route, part of Route 40 - one of most fabled and scenic roads in Argentina.

After 40 days cycling through stunning Patagonian landscapes, we share our Top 6 insights from the Carretera Austral - one of the most famous “bucket-list” cycling routes in the world.

Our cycling journey on the Carretera Austral ended where most people begin, in northern Patagonia. Riding among the glacier-topped mountains and tranquil river valleys, we were reminded of the landscape’s darker side - natural disasters that recently wreaked havoc on isolated towns. We enjoyed cozy cabins that offered refuge between rainforest camps within pristine national parks. While ferries helped us continue our journey whenever the road ended at the edge of a deep river or fjord. And along the way we crossed paths with other cyclists from around the world, gaining inspiration from their stories and dreams of future adventures.

As a steady downpour soaked us and our gear, we quickly learned a truth about the Carretera Austral - the western side of the southern Andes is all about rain. We rode through landscapes reflecting the abundance of water with shimmering lakes, rushing rivers, rainforest-covered hills, and thickets of moss, fuchsia flowers, and ferns. The terrain also was more demanding, as we cycled over three of the highest passes along the Carretera Austral. Along the way it was the many small pleasures, like a crackling fire, a pile of fresh, ripe cherries or a roadside meet-up with friends that created fond, lasting memories.

As we sailed across the Strait of Magellan, we left Tierra del Fuego behind. But we still had a lot of Patagonia ahead of us. After a quiet Christmas in the City of Red Roofs, we cycled back onto the Patagonian pampas - encountering some of the hemisphere’s biggest birds, and fields bursting with the pinks, yellows and purples of flowers in bloom. Then three days on stormy seas among the fjords of southern Chile brought us to a tiny town in a steep-sided cove, with no regular streets or sidewalks. Instead there were five miles of boardwalks, and the main part of town lay at the top of 20 flights of wooden stairs.

As we cycled further north in Tierra del Fuego, we were enveloped by the treeless expanse of the pampas. Fields of grass that stretched to the horizon fed herds of sheep and smaller bands of guanacos. But the serenity of the vistas stood in sharp contrast to the weather, which buffeted us with strong winds that made bike handling a challenge and slowed our progress to a crawl. After a couple of tough days, we made it to the border and crossed into Chile. There, our hopes for a rest day were dashed by a terrible weather forecast - forcing an overnight cycling marathon to outrun the storm. Our reward, at the end, was a rendezvous with royalty at the King Penguin Nature Reserve.

The Pan-American Highway ends in the south where it reaches the ocean in the city of Ushuaia. But even though Ushuaia is known as The End of the World, it served as a beginning for us. From there, we resumed our Alaska-to-Patagonia bicycle journey, heading back north towards Colombia. After a visit with some penguins, we were back on our bicycles, cycling over the snowy, southern Andes and across the Patagonian steppe. Blown by the wind and drenched by rain, we found shelter where we could - among stunted, gnarly trees and even in the basement of a bakery - eventually arriving in the industrial center of Tierra del Fuego.

Buenos Aires… the land of red wine, juicy steaks, and tango evokes dreams of romance and style. So when our bicycle tour across the Americas was interrupted in Colombia due to an accident, we decided that this alluring metropolis would be the perfect place for a layover to recover. This blog post summarizes our time in Buenos Aires before restarting our bicycle trip.

We continued cycling southwards, away from the bigger Colombian cities of the north. With each passing mile, the landscape around us became more rural. Gradually we ascended onto higher ridges, with gorgeous views of the Magdalena River below. Small towns, off the beaten tourist path, rewarded us with tales of witches, brave heroines, celebrations of freedom, and holy blessings for travelers. But just after we cycled over the highest mountain ridge, disaster struck - requiring us to rethink all of our plans.

It was time for us to leave the high mountains, at least for a little while. A rapid descent from the Central Andean Ridge landed us in the fertile Magdalena Valley. Over the next week we cycled through Colombia’s heartland, bordered by the distant, blue-gray ridges of the Andes that rise nearly three miles into the sky. We crossed a wide, rushing river to reach Colombia’s largest inland desert, where we lost ourselves among strange, ghostly shapes. Then a final, quiet bike ride through the countryside brought us back to the shores of the fabled Magdalena River, among monuments to some the region’s strange, mythical inhabitants.

We departed Medellín in the company of a couple of hundred other cyclists, all climbing a big mountain on a Sunday just for fun. The descent brought us into Colombia’s coffee heartland, but we still had to cycle up and over the Central Andes. We climbed up to a picturesque mountain town, and then over the 11,083 ft (3,378 m) Alto de La Línea pass - one of the highest in the country - where forests of wax palms (Colombia’s national tree) grow among the clouds. From there we dropped back down to the Music Capital of Colombia, and spent a couple of weeks enjoying the Colombian National Folk Festival, where groups from all over the country come to celebrate their cultural heritage.

Our ascent into the Andes Mountains began gently, as we cycled upstream along one of Colombia’s biggest rivers. But soon enough we were climbing out of the valley, and discovered just how formidable the Andes can be. After several days of cycling through a deep canyon flowing with waterfalls, forests shrouded in clouds, and high mountain pastures, we had gained 9,000 ft (2,745 m) in elevation. From there we plunged into Medellín in a single, long and grueling day - where a rest in The City of Eternal Spring rejuvenated us for the road ahead.

We had arrived at the Darien Gap in Panama, where all roads end - requiring travel by air or water to reach Colombia. Our ‘quick, 1-hour flight’ from Panama to Colombia took 19 hours longer than expected, but at least our bicycles survived unscathed. Eventually we arrived in the historic, walled city of Cartagena. From there we cycled across a broad plain whose culture reminded us more of the Caribbean than South America. Airy buildings with thatched roofs lined chocolate-brown waterways and seaside beaches, with vast expanses of green savanna in between. Soaked in sweat from the heat and humidity, we looked forward to the higher elevations and cooler temperatures of the Andes Mountains which lay in our path to the south.

Panama stands at the crossroads of two continents. At its narrowest, just 30 miles of land (48 km) separates the world’s largest oceans. Here, where the Pacific and the Atlantic Oceans nearly meet, the Panama Canal bridges the gap and creates one of the most important international waterways in the world. In addition to the canal, Panama’s vibrant traditional, indigenous fabrics formed the backdrop for festivals celebrating the Lunar New Year (Asian) and Holy Week/Easter (Catholic) holidays, reinforcing Panama’s distinction as a ‘melting pot’ of cultures. Our road ended in cosmopolitan Panama City, where on any given day we could visit a historical old town, a scenic Pacific waterfront, or a nearby tropical forest. It was a wonderful ‘adios’ to our journey across North and Central America. South America, here we come!

Costa Rica. The name conjures up images of tropical jungles teeming with wildlife. We were really looking forward to cycling across this fascinating country. Then a triple whammy of strong winds, oppressive heat, and rapidly deteriorating tires created more than a few challenges. But the country’s lush landscapes, ocean vistas, gorgeous birds, enormous crocodiles, and incredibly generous people ensured that we had an amazing visit.

Central America has many countries crowded into a relatively small space, leading to frequent encounters with immigration offices. Having crossed quite a few land borders over the years, we nonetheless wondered if we were up to the challenge of Honduras and Nicaragua. Both have a reputation of bringing even the most seasoned travelers to their knees with less than well oiled bureaucracies. Luckily, we successfully maneuvered the bureaucratic obstacle courses at the borders. A home run in getting a visa extension in Nicaragua gave us the time to enjoy the capital city of Managua, and soak up the wonderful, historic ambiance of Granada, on the shores of a freshwater lake inhabited by sharks.

From Guatemala City we had only three days of riding to the border with El Salvador. Yet Guatemala continued to enchant us, with pre-Christmas festivities in one town and a colorful saint’s day procession in another. After a difficult border crossing, we once again marveled at the differences between countries as El Salvador revealed its own, unique character and beauty - even though our holiday plans in San Salvador didn’t quite work out as planned.

After the big climb out of Lake Atitlan’s ancient crater, we cycled through more of the Guatemalan Highlands. In the historic city of Antigua, we soaked up the interesting mix of Mayan and Spanish influences before climbing a volcano. A final push took us to Guatemala City, where we celebrated the approaching Christmas holiday as we worked on bike repairs.

As we continued our cycling journey through the Guatemalan Highlands, each community we passed though had its own, unique character. Giant kites fluttered in the wind over a mountain town churning out colorful textiles. Mayan ritual sites clustered in a new-age enclave where music filled the air. And international cuisine was served in a town where most people’s native language was Mayan. But the main attraction was the breathtakingly picturesque Lake Atitlán, with its backdrop of three volcanos - where a pre-dawn hike led us to a quetzal, Guatemala’s national symbol.