Day 8 – Did We Just Become Cyclists? | Chile Travel Diary

Date: Thursday, March 26
Location: Santa Cruz → Marchigüe
Distance: 77 km / 47.8 miles
Mood: Smug, saddle-sore, and weirdly proud of our fake-cyclist era

The Official Plan vs. What We Actually Did

One thing I noticed today, more obviously than other days on this tour: the official itinerary and what we actually did today were not the same. The tour description talks about shuttling out to La Lajuela, riding toward Lolol, visiting the Museo de Artesanía, and having a picnic lunch in the plaza. Instead, we shuttled out of Santa Cruz and started the day at the Museo del Automóvil, part of the Fundación Cardoen museum network, where the collection focuses on older models from the 1890s through the 1980s, didn’t have a picnic lunch or visit the Museo de Artesanía.

I didn’t mind the switch, but think it’s important to note that these itineraries are subject to change (if you’re the kind of person who loves to stick to a plan).

The other thing we were not fully prepared for in Chile in March was the temperature swings. Mornings here are properly chilly — around 5 to 7 degrees — and then by noon it’s pushing 20. Every day starts with that same confused little game of “am I freezing, or am I about to sweat through everything by lunch?”

77 Kilometres, a Pig Snort, and a Cat With Big Plans

I was a little nervous about the distance today. Seventy-seven kilometres is not nothing, especially for two people who do not identify as cyclists and have somehow found ourselves spending the better part of a week biking through Chilean wine country. But this ride felt surprisingly good. More challenging than some of the others because of the rolling hills, yes, but still really enjoyable and, like every day here, the scenery really does a lot of the heavy lifting.

We passed more tiny farms, more barking dogs (lesson learned about stopping for a water break in front of someone’s property), more roosters loudly announcing themselves to absolutely no one in particular, and one pig that gave us a little snort as we rode by. You genuinely cannot make this stuff up.

At one point I spotted this fluffy white cat crouched low like it was stalking prey, and the next thing I knew it launched itself after Brent as he rode past. I laughed so hard. Not because it was threatening in any way, but because I could not stop thinking, what exactly was your plan if you caught him? There was also, for reasons unknown, a dead turkey on the road. Which is not a sentence I ever thought I’d write, but here we are.

This whole region continues to feel like someone built a cycling route through a very charming fever dream.

The Sandwich Stop That Earned Its Own Paragraph

We stopped for lunch at La Jana, which is in Pumanque, not Lolol, which is what the official itinerary said. Most of today’s route is back roads (which we loved), but we ducked into this sweet little community for lunch. Side note: Brent navigated to this restaurant perfectly while the rest of the group couldn’t find it – so I’m taking that as another micro win.

And this was one of those lunches that hits with absurd force when you’ve already clocked nearly 40 kilometres.

I had a chicken sandwich done “italiano” style — tomato, avocado, and mayo, named for the colours of the Italian flag — on one of those fresh-baked rolls that seem to be the default around here and is making me question all bread back home. I honestly don’t know whether it was the sandwich itself or the fact that I was hungry, sweaty, and sitting in a charming little town in rural Chile, but it was excellent. Possibly both. Probably both.

There’s something about a really good sandwich in the middle of a long ride that feels almost spiritual.

The Day We Nearly Beat Jata & The Argument for E-Bikes

This is the part where Brent and I became absolutely insufferable for a minute.

We felt so good today that we nearly beat the driver to the hotel. As in, we literally drafted the van into the driveway. On day 1, he thought he had “lost us” because we were way further ahead than he thought we would be. Not bad for the only two non-cyclists on the trip. And yes, we were pleased with ourselves. More than pleased, really. Quietly smug. Maybe not even that quietly.

We pushed because we wanted to arrive first and get photos of everyone coming in on the final day, which we did, and I have to say — for two people who do not cycle, we’re feeling pretty damn good about ourselves.

There is something deeply satisfying about accidentally getting stronger in public.

There is some controversy in the cycling and cycling tour community about e-bikes. Some riders don’t like that they’re allowed on tours, but this is my diary and here’s what I think:

e-bikes make cycling and tours like these more accessible to more people (not necessarily less fit people, but also people like me with serious injuries that might otherwise not be able to manage those distances)
riders are pissy about e-bikes on tours, should get over themselves. Riding an e-bike doesn’t make you less of a person (contrary to what some might say)
e-bikes aren’t just for non-cyclists. In the past few years, we’ve ridden with plenty of “serious cyclists” who are choosing e-bikes on these trips just to make their time more enjoyable.
e-bikes aren’t “no effort”. These bikes are pedal-assist and have 3 levels. For context, I only ever used level one on this trip, so it’s like someone giving you a little boost but you still have to work.
If you really don’t think e-bikes should be on these trips, you should go find a trip that doesn’t allow them (and keep your elitist attitude to yourself)

IMPORTANT NOTE: No one on this particular trip was a jerk – absolutely no one. But I’ve been on tours previously with people who were jerks about those of us on e-bikes. No problem for them to blow by those of us on heavy e-bikes on the downhills going 70+ km/hr (which is infinitely more dangerous than going uphill), but they get sassy about e-bikes respectfully passing them on the climbs “on your left!”.

Rant over.

The Monastery That Should Have Been Haunted But Was Far Too Charming

Our final hotel of the official trip was Hacienda Histórica Marchigüe, a restored historic property in the Colchagua area that traces back to a Jesuit-era estate and has 30 rooms.

And this place was ridiculous in the best way.

Our room had two levels: a lower living space with the bathroom and this massive old window with a bench overlooking what can only be described as a secret garden, then a loft-style king bedroom upstairs. It felt like the sort of place that should absolutely be haunted, except it was way too charming to be spooky. The whole property was like that — all winding paths, old stone, greenery everywhere, and grounds so pretty they almost felt fake. I’ve said this before on this trip, but once again it looked like we were walking through a romance novel.

The hacienda is centred around this gorgeous open-air courtyard, and after we arrived we did what we always do: wandered, put the drone up, took photos, and generally tried to soak it in before the day got away from us. You could spend hours just roaming around this place and not get bored.

Then we had happy hour with the group — pisco sours again — and one of the loveliest conversations of the trip, where everyone shared what surprised them most and what they’d loved most. By this point, the group felt easy with one another in a way that only seems to happen when you’ve all sweated through enough kilometres together. Here are a few stand-out comments that stuck with me:

“How safe Chile feels after some media and travel advisories make it sound unsafe”

“How friendly and genuinely helpful everyone we’ve encountered was”

“How cyclist friendly that most vehicles are”

“The exceptional food – no one was expecting the level of food and meal quality”

And, because you need to see this…a little lookbook of the Hacienda:

One Last Supper Under the Lemon Trees

Dinner was private, set up in the courtyard under the lemon trees, and it was exactly as beautiful as that sounds.

They had a full bar set up, everything included, and a female pit master working the open fire who had apparently been grilling for at least an hour before we even sat down. The food was fantastic: pork ribs, chicken, sausage, giant steaks, grilled onions, roasted potatoes, and then a dessert spread that was wildly generous even by Chilean standards — a full caramel cake, raspberry mousse, panna cotta, fruit, the works.

It felt like the perfect last supper for the group, which made the absence of Mark and Mary more noticeable. They’d had to leave a day early because of a death in the family, which was genuinely sad. You spend enough time with people on a trip like this that the missing seats are felt.

Still, it was a beautiful night. The kind of dinner that makes you slow down a little because you know the shape of the trip is changing.

Final Thoughts

Today was one of those days that sneaks up on you. It didn’t have the drama of the spider day or the stress spiral of the broken-drone-and-smashed-phone era, but it had something better: it just worked.

The ride was long and surprisingly manageable. The scenery was ridiculous. The lunch stop delivered. The hotel was absurdly charming. Dinner under the lemon trees felt like a proper ending.

And maybe the funniest part is that somewhere in all of this, Brent and I — two people who do not cycle — have become weirdly competent at this. We just hit several PR’s each: most consecutive days cycling and longest distance cycled, ever. Pretty awesome.

I would never say we’ve become cyclists. Let’s not get carried away.

But accidentally-becoming-cyclists?
That, I’ll accept.

Food Breakdown 🍽️

Winner of the Day: Dinner under the lemon trees at Hacienda Histórica — the giant steaks and that whole open-fire spread
Close Second: My chicken italiano sandwich at La Jana
Drink of the Day: Pisco sours at happy hour