After arriving in Uyuni, it was time to take a short break. Steven and I were tired and in need of rest, and Fien was about to arrive.
The three of us took a tour in the area so Fien could start acclimatising to the altitude.
The plan was simple: Steven would continue cycling on his own, while Fien and I would ride together for two weeks towards Salta, where she would fly back. Because of that planning I hardly cycled alone during this period, and I really enjoyed being in good company.
After the tour, Steven set off on his own adventure, and Fien started her very first bikepacking trip. Doing a first ever bikepacking journey at high altitude, in such a remote area, is probably not the most obvious choice, but she was up for a good adventure.
Great heights
The first days we got lucky. Tailwinds helped us move forward, which was very welcome at this altitude with the lack of oxygen.
After months spent high in the mountains, it all felt comfortable to me, but Fien still had to adapt. She did really well, and we made good
It felt special to share this part of the journey with her. We went to university together, worked together, and when I first started talking about this crazy human powered 7 summits journey, she was there. Our lives took different turns, but we always stayed in touch. A few years ago, she started thinking about bikepacking but didn’t know where to begin and didn’t want to go alone. At some point, she realised she knew someone with experience and decided to join me.
With two kids, she could only be away for two and a half weeks. That made it even more special that she was up for this adventure. The planning and preparation was intense for her. With a fulltime job, 2 kids and a few months before this trip she bought a house with her husband so she needed to move just in time. Respect to her for pulling this off!
The landscape changed constantly: vast desert, valleys, canyons. Soon we climbed to 4,200 metres, the highest altitude Fien had ever been at, and immediately on a bike.
We wildcamped most nights, something we both love. This region offered endless beautiful spots, and with the stable weather we really took our time. One morning, I even made pancakes in camp.
After a few days, we reached the border. We changed money, slept indoors, and prepared ourselves. Crossing into the final country of this journey felt exciting.
Argentina immediately felt different. Slightly more expensive, but even small towns usually had more facilities and more food options. People were friendly, welcoming, and camping always felt easy.
In these open spaces, there is always something to watch. One evening we camped near a sand dune to observe a storm far away, enjoying the lightning show. We were lucky it never came close.
Because we were making good progress, we allowed ourselves some detours. Since we couldn’t leave our bikes behind, we simply took them along pushing them up a riverbed to reach old Inca drawings. It took hours, but it was worth it. The ride back down was surprisingly fun on fully loaded bikes.
After about a week, we finally left the plateau. From 3,800 metres, we gradually descended. My body appreciated the extra oxygen, it had been months since I slept below 2,000 metres.
The desert slowly gave way to colour: trees, flowers, smells. It felt like spring after a long winter. We took it easy, visiting a provincial park, walking through rivers, listening to jungle sounds.
Not every day was easy: especially in the afternoons, strong headwinds made our progress difficult.
In the final days towards Salta, we made one last detour via a park and a lake. Along the way, we met Albane. She had flown to Lima, built a bike with no prior experience, and started cycling south on her own. It was inspiring to see someone simply go for it, especially as a solo woman.
She joined us for camping and for the final ride to Salta. Forming a small group of cyclists, sharing stories and ideas, felt like the perfect ending to this part of the journey.
When Fien flew back home, it was time for the next phase: 1.300 kilometres in about ten days.
Rik and Bertrand were joining me on a fixed date for the climb of Aconcagua and the region ahead was known for its relentless headwinds.
Writing this down, I realise how much the previous expedition felt like going to work.
Kayaking solo from Panama to Colombia, being held for hours by an armed group, and carrying a lot of personal struggles along the way. Too many solo expeditions, too much emotional weight, and somewhere along the road, I started enjoying the adventure less.
I was afraid it would be the same this time.
But thanks to the people (my brother Peter, Steven, Fien, Bertrand and Rik) who joined me, everything changed. I was present again. Laughing a lot more. Enjoying every second out there. This time, it didn’t feel like work, it felt like why I started all this in the first place.
Many thanks to my sponsors for making this adventure possible!
