Exploring South America by Bike; A Journey of Freedom, Connection, and Transformation

I’m excited to share a piece of my incredible journey through South America and highlight the unique rewards of traveling by bike. Let’s explore how cycling can provide a powerful way to fully experience the world around us.

My name is Nicolás, co-founder of Coigüe Expeditions and a passionate travel cyclist. In 2012, I discovered the peace and joy that come from traveling by bike by venturing to explore the beginning of Patagonia, cycling the Austral Highway, a breathtaking route in southern Chile. I biked about 750 km (466 mi) from Chaitén to Puerto Sánchez, a charming village on the northern shore of Lago General Carrera, Chile’s largest lake. The Aysén Region, with its stunning landscapes and warm, welcoming people, quickly became my favorite part of Chile. Along the way, I passed through remote areas where small communities are connected by a mix of paved and gravel roads, always surrounded by pristine and exciting nature.

The great pleasure and sense that came from this trip stayed with me, continuing to intrigue me with the most beautiful thoughts and dreams while I remained in the city, until 2018, when I decided to hit the road again on my bike. But this time, it wasn’t just about traveling by bike and developing a deeper connection with the places and cultures; it was about embracing it as a lifestyle. Therefore, considering several months for the adventure was key.

Inspired by this trasformative experience, I felt a strong desire to explore more of South America. I wanted an adventure that would be both intimate and vast—one that would deepen my connection with the land, its people, and myself. The diverse, long and vast Andes range offered a fascinating territory to explore, providing an opportunity to connect deeply with Pachamama and draw closer to Inti, the Sun God. During the 8 months I spent saving for this adventure, I only managed to gather enough for 5 months of traveling, and the temptation to cross South America by the world´s largest mountain range, from north to south seemed quite possible.

Using Google Earth to map my route, I decided to begin my journey in Barranquilla, Colombia. From there I plotted my course using the program’s ruler tool, aiming to explore Tayrona National Park and reach Riohacha , one of the northernmost cities in South America. From there, I would head south along the *Western Andean Range until I reached Bogotá, the capital city. I estimate 15 days, cycling about 50 miles per day, to reach Bogotá. Given that it was centrally located, I figured one month would be enough to cross Colombia.

Afterward, I would head to Ecuador, which is about half the size of Colombia, and spend 15 days there. Then, I planned to make my way through Peru, staying for two months, with Cuzco as a must-see destination. From there, I would cross into Bolivia, visiting Lake Titicaca and potentially crossing Uyuni Salt Flats, all within a 15-day timeframe.

Next, I would enter Argentina from the north and continue south for about a month until reached Mendoza, then cross the Andes and head back toward my hometown, Santiago de Chile. This would mark the end of my journey after five months of cycling. What really amazes me is how, despite the flexible planning, everything unfolded incredibly close to what I had envisioned.

The route I was considering became quite clear, and from that point on, I focused on equipping myself with the essentials—everything necessary to live as independently, economically, and safely as possible. I conducted research online to explore various factors, such as the type of bike I would need, by reading the experiences of other bike travelers and watching YouTube channels dedicated to bike touring. Two channels that particularly inspired me were Bikecanine and Biciclown, run by two passionate Spanish travelers who share their knowledge and life stories. Their experiences only strengthened my desire to explore the world on two wheels.

*In Colombia, unlike other countries in the Andes region, the Andes is divided into three distinct ranges: the Eastern, Central, and Western ranges.

Alto de La Línea is a challenging mountain pass located in Cordillera Central, with a 45-kilometer route when considering both slopes. Reaching an altitude of 3,260 meters and an average gradient of 10%, it is considered one of the most difficult pass in South America. Over the years, it has tested numerous Colombian cyclists and has become part of some of the most important cycling races of the Country. Nevertheless, crossing the Black Range to get to Huaraz in Perú, has been the most challenging experience I’ve ever had on a bike.

For route navigation, I used Maps.me, an app that provided detailed descriptions of each route, whether paved, gravel, or trail, and was free to use with no internet connection required. Each day of cycling, it gave me information about the distance and elevation (either high or low) of my destination. With this data, and by checking my speed on the odometer during the rides, I could estimate the time I would arrive at each destination. Every night during my trip, I used the app to mark my overnight stays. It was my trusted navigation tool throughout the entire journey.

• Red marker: One night
• Blue marker: Two nights
• Green and yellow marker: Three nights

The less you carry, the more room there is for discovery and connection . One of the most profound aspects I found on bike touring is the freedom and joy that comes from traveling light. If you’re planning a bike adventure and there are items on your packing list that you might not use daily (out of the repair and first aid kit among others), it might be a better idea not to bring them. Every item takes up space in your saddlebags, and every extra bit of weight is felt. I was tempted to bring a book, which I wisely left behind on the first night. There’s both physical and mental relief in not carrying unnecessary gear, which clears the way for the true joy of living a simple and austere lifestyle. The joy of traveling light isn’t just about what you leave behind—it’s about the incredible experiences that await when you embrace, what I believe, the greatest opportunity to have a deep connection with the essence of freedom and joy.

Smile from the beggining of the day until going sleeping: A typical day begins with the first rays of morning light as I wake up with the sun. Even on cold mornings, there’s something magical about making coffee while still wrapped in my sleeping bag, watching the sun rise behind the mountains. Setting up camp and packing my gear is always a peaceful yet essential part of the routine. Then, the excitement of pedaling into the unknown takes over, with an open heart ready to embrace whatever the road brings. As I ride, the world unfolds before me, and a deep sense of freedom fills my spirit. Later, as the sun begins to set, I start searching for a safe spot to camp. Once I’ve found the perfect place, tired but happy, I set up my tent, prepare a replenishing dinner and perhaps for the next afternoon, and settle into my sleeping bag with the smile. I check the route for the next day, then drift off to sleep, surrendering to rest as the sun slips away.

My greatest challenge! Along the way, it’s incredible how challenges appear every day and how the spirit grows stronger by facing them. As mentioned, the most demanding part of the journey took place from the low desert fields of coastal northern Peru to the city of Huaraz. To get there, I ventured across the Cordillera Negra (Black Range) mountain pass, a 114 km (70 mi) uphill stretch, reaching an altitude of 4,160 meters (13,500 feet) above sea level in two days. I had never pushed myself so hard as I did there! The reward upon reaching the mountain pass was the opportunity to admire the Cordillera Blanca (White Range) to the east, with Huaraz at its feet, and the serpentine paved road that would lead me there.

Without considering the many challenging sections I had to face along the Andes, sure, there were difficult moments during the trip, but they were few and far between, and the overall experience was so incredible that they hardly seem worth mentioning. Anyway biggest challenge occurred on day one. Starting my ride from the humid and high temperatures of Barranquilla, I cycled through what felt like a “hellish route”—a stretch of road with water but no shade on either side, connecting that city to Ciénaga, a very smeled and abandonate town. I covered many miles with no human or vehicle presence, and no support throughout the entire journey. Within the first few miles, I ran out all my fresh water and pushed myself hard to escape from that hellish stretch. When I began to experience serious symptoms of dehydration, I decided to recover some energy by lying under a bush, but soon realized this idea will not help, so I continue moving forward. A few minutes later, I encountered few people drinking cold water from the back of a truck. I honestly believe that without them, I wouldn’t be able to tell this story. When I finally reached Ciénaga, I found a room to stay and rest. That night I told myself that this would be the most difficult moment of my entire trip—and thankfully, it was just as I had propose.

On any bike trip you choose to embark on, be sure to spend the first day acclimating your self from the place where you’ll start your ride. I completely understand how exciting it is to begin a bike trip, but seriously, you might want to temper your expectations on the first day. For the upcoming days it’s also important to continue studing the route and prepare with the necessary items to avoid potential dangers. Equally crucial is how we interact with people along the way. Always be kind—that is the key. When you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. If you’re kind to others, nothing will go wrong.

In terms of saving money and maintaining independence, I tried to camp as much as possible. However, there were several factors I had to consider for safety and comfort. At the beginning of my journey, to avoid the intense heat of the Guajira Peninsula, I had to start pedaling as early as 3:00 AM and keep going until around midday, before the temperatures became unbearable. As a result, finding a room with air conditioning was essential in the northernmost part of South America.

On the other hand, I frequently encountered groups of Venezuelans walking south along the highways, looking for better opportunities away from the political challenges they faced in their home country. This situation also made camping feel unsafe, as I couldn’t guarantee my security.

When the route took me into larger cities, it was important to arrive during daylight. I also made sure to find a safe area near the most interested (touristic) parts of each city or town. It was always a relief to reach a place where I could take a shower and leave my belongings safely before heading out to explore the city on foot and perhaps stock up for the upcoming days. I estimate that I spent about half of my trip by camping and the other half by hosteries or similar.

During the long, solitary rides, my thoughts constantly remind me that I am exactly where I want to be. Gratitude overwhelms me as I realize how incredible and magical everything is—perfectly designed to elevate the human spirit to its fullest. The endless roads, the supplies, and the constant support from the people I meet—whether through a simple hello, goodbye, or smile—make every encounter feel like a driving force that propels me forward.

On long journeys like this, I feel my true essence come to life. There’s a simplicity in cycling that allows you to reconnect with yourself, with nature, and with the people you meet along the way. Every encounter becomes meaningful, and every landscape—whether it’s an awe-inspiring mountain or a quiet village—seems to be an essential part of the journey. Traveling light by bike is not just a way of getting from one place to another; it’s a way of experiencing the world in its purest and simplest form.

Traveling solo or with a partner? It seems there is no definitive answer to whether one option is «better» or «worse.» The experience of a long bike trip, regardless of the route chosen, will be strongly influenced by the decision to travel alone or with someone. If you have a great partner or friend who is willing to explore the world on two wheels with you, and you believe that together you could make a great team, it can be an excellent choice. Traveling with a companion (or perhaps more than two might be too much) gives us greater security, both personally and with our belongings. For example, if you decide to stop at a shop on the route, one person can stay with the bikes while the other takes care of the shopping, ensurence the procecure is carry out without worry.

However, from a deeper perspective, something that doesn’t happen when we travel alone is that we can’t fully share what’s happening and how we appreciate the constantly shifting landscapes, and the people with their distinct accents and ways of life. These are irreplaceable moments that don’t stay in anyone else’s memories unless another biker is with you, sharing and experiencing the joy by firsthand. Anyway, if you travel solo, you could capture and perhaps share those moments by writing an article. The companion you choose will deeply influence the tone of the adventure. If there’s no chemistry, or if your goals diverge, continuing the trip solo can be a natural choice. However, if the connection remains strong, there’s no doubt that the friendship will grow so much that it will likely last beyond the journey.

In contrast, when we don’t have a partner to share the genuine joy of traveling on two wheels, we have the opportunity to open ourselves more to the world and to people. Traveling alone socially obligates us to interact and engage more deeply with the cultures we encounter. When traveling solo, we embrace solitude, allowing us to experience a genuine and authentic connection with others that lifts the soul, enriches us, and puch ourselfes to keep going and going. Only in those moments, I believe, is when one truly becomes empowered, because we learn to trust in ourselves and people without reservation. And that’s when we have no problem leaving our bikes outside a shop and going in to make our purchases with total confidence.

Embarking on a cycling adventure, whether through the vast Andes or across any terrain, is more than just a physical journey—it’s a personal transformation. Traveling light, connecting with the land and its people, and embracing the unpredictable nature of the road fosters a deep sense of freedom and joy. The beauty of bike touring lies not in reaching a destination, but in the experiences and lessons gathered along the way.  

Chile is, without a doubt, a land of contrasts, rich in natural elements that captivate the interest of any bike traveler. At Coigüe, I´m expanding the offerings to include a new kind of service. I´m focusing on exploring our territory in-depth to create meticulously planned bike routes and promote guided cycling tours across diverse landscapes. The Araucanía Andina Bike Tour is an invitation to explore the northern part of the Los Lagos and Volcanoes District, safely and comfortably, while connecting with the most fascinating features of this wonderful region.