Ever dream of visiting other planets? In Chile’s Atacama Desert, lunar valleys, martian red canyons, and the world’s clearest views of the milky way bring the universe down to Earth.
My friend Keith and I hitched a ride into San Pedro with a vacationing family. This adobe town is the sole base for adventures in the region.
With a few hugs to the little girl’s unicorn toys, I stumble out of the car into the street.
The air is thin: we’re at over 2,400 metres. Dusty roads lead right up to the clay walls of homes. The view ends with red rock hills.
“It’s so dry,” I try not to point out the obvious but it’s legitimately remarkable.
This is the driest desert on Earth after all.
NASA ran the same tests on the soil here as their rovers did on Mars. As on Mars, they found no life.
The UV index is often purple. Which is an interesting choice of colour to indicate “deadly.”
11. Purple. Certain death.
There’s nothing in the air to filter the sunlight.
Basecamp (San Pedro, Atacama)
Local people are a mix of Bolivian, Chilean, and indigenous, although most just consider themselves of the Atacama.
Their world is simply so different, ancient, and isolated.
“Hey! How’s it going?” We meet Chris, a friend who’s been here for a couple weeks.
“The way to see the Atacama is by bike,” he explains. “It’s cheap and you see way more than on the bus.”
We drop our bags in a friend’s adobe home. Adobe is such an effective insulator that I shiver inside from the shock of the cold air.
This desert is constantly uncomfortable. Good thing it’s spectacular.
Back in the town square, we buy Mote con Huesillo. It’s a beverage unique to the Altiplano: a glacially carved plateau spanning Bolivia, Northern Chile and Argentina.
You’ll also find Bolivia’s famous Uyuni salt flats in the region.
Mote con Huesillo is made with pieces of corn and dried peaches.
With the floating corn and re-hydrated peach balls, it looks like something from a biologist’s trophy shelf. Yet, it’s sweet, delicious, and filling.
The streets of San Pedro are divided by function. The main ones, Caracoles and Tocopilla, near the plaza are set up for tourists. If you want a tour or a hostel, you will have no trouble finding one here.
Another part hosts the markets, and another an iconic adobe church.
“Always check a few different places for cash conversion,” Chris warns.
Anywhere, this is a good practice, but in San Pedro the difference in exchange rate is out of this world.
With a market value of $100, I was getting rates everywhere from $40 to $75 to $92.
Perhaps it’s because this is an isolated border town with Bolivia that sees a lot of traffic.
Also, the few ATM machines often run out of cash and most businesses are cash only. These are good things to know before arriving.
Logistics settled, we’re off to see five sights that make us feel we’re on another planet.
1. Swallowed up by the Devil (Devil’s Throat, Atacama)
“Let’s go to the Devil’s Throat,” Chris suggests. “It’s nearby and a fun bike ride.”
Devil and “fun” sound like an odd combination, but curiosity wins me over.
We ride out of town and into a wide canyon valley on rented mountain bikes. Most rental companies offer quality bikes with repair kits, helmets, and maps.
On route, we stop and take off our shoes off to walk the bikes across water. Wait, aren’t we in the driest desert on Earth? Somehow a tiny river meanders through the valley.
Then, we meet the Devil itself. Thin, winding switchbacks lead up the canyon wall.
It’s a place where “danger falling rocks” signs could be everywhere.
Huge bike-eating potholes and freshly smashed boulders from the gorge walls keep the path interesting.
Orange sandstone swirls around us. Windows and cliffs open up the tunnel and give us a view over the sandy valley below.
“Whaaaa!” A sand drift cuts across the road.
My bike doesn’t stop dead as expected. Instead, it continues moving straight toward a cliff, choosing to follow inertia and not the handlebars’ directions.
Then, thankfully, it falls flat underneath me.
I’m left straddling the air and cursing the Devil. It’s living up to its name.
At the top of the trail, we reach a tunnel drilled straight through the mountainside. In the middle of the cave, it becomes pitch black. There’s only light at the either end.
We ride towards the light.
Roar.
Suddenly, ATVs are coming up fast behind me. I have no lights. They have no lights. There’s no way to yell.
Somehow, I reach the other side before being run down.
The decadent blue of the sky against the red of the sands never gets old. Hills roll away from us in all directions.
The ride down is more eventful. The added speed makes the lack of control on sand less manageable, while potholes and falling children await around each tight bend.
My hands ache from gripping the brakes. What a ride!
2. Heading to church (San Isidro)
Back in the valley, we rest under a very flimsy tree. Its tiny fern-like leaves look crispy from the sun.
“Let’s go up there,” Chris points. “Let’s go to church!”
After spending time with the Devil, it seems appropriate. We head up a small hill rooted in the canyon.
As we reach the top, we’re blinded by a glowing light. God? No, the church itself is bright white and reflects sunlight in all directions.
Its walls look radiant against the rich red earth and deep blue sky. Beside the tiny building, deep in the valley, the silence alone is meditative.
To leave, we descend with the bikes into a series of tight rocky passages near the church. In some sections, we have to walk the bikes, in others, we pass them down two metre drop offs.
“Up there are Inca ruins. You pay to go in but I hear it’s worth it,” Chris says.
Atop the valley wall is a human-made one. In classic Inca style, it blends right in.
It’s amazing to see how far reaching the Inca Empire really was.
All day, we’ve been weaving in and out of the landscape. Keith suggests watching sunset over the city.
We cycle up the highway for the best view.
The Atacama’s red rock and sandstone landscape is always in sunset hues.
When the day’s pink light falls on it, it creates colours my eyes can’t process. It’s fluorescent.
I’m left in awe.
3. Mars rovers (Valle del Marte, Mars Valley, Atacama)
The next day, Keith and I hitchhike out of town to Valle del Marte, the Martian Valley.
Some tours now call it “death valley” and I wonder if it’s just marketing.
This is the main Atacama destination if you want to go sandboarding down dunes. Keith rents a sandboard and I bring cameras.
We walk into the arms of Mars Valley with no idea what to expect.
First, we encounter salt caves, where gaping holes fall several metres into caverns below. The drip-drop formations look like frozen sand castles.
Everything is red rock and white salt. Wind and water have created swirling tunnels to explore complete with windows and pillar formations.
There is no water here.
Something about that makes me anxious. The air is thin and dry. I don’t even notice if I sweat. I guess the air must claim all moisture.
I feel for the first time that I’m out of my element. I’m an alien here, ill-adapted for the climate.
I am on Mars.
From the sheltered salt caves, we arrive at the big open dunes.
I watch as sandboarders carve a slow path down the mound. You can wax your board well but sand has a lot of friction.
Boarder after boarder learns lessons in physics, stalling and slamming into the dune. Unlike water, sand isn’t a soft landing.
I imagine the friction burns.
I walk up. Each footstep sinks into the sand, and I only gain a few inches each time.
From the top, I watch the dune’s spine snake away into the jagged canyon beyond.
This is spectacular. It’s like seeing every type of desert landscape in one image.
Perfect cone shaped volcanoes with ice caps line the horizon.
“There are over 40 volcanoes in the area,” a sandboarding guide tells me.
The Atacama is beauty and danger all around. Maybe this is a valley of death.
Keith takes a few runs down before getting exhausted by the heat. Once the harsh midday sun hits, all of the boarders leave.
We go to grab dinner, leaving Mars behind us.
4. To the Moon and back (Valle de la Luna, Moon Valley, Atacama)
After our day at the dunes, I’m ready to saddle up on a bike again. The route to the Moon Valley, Valle de la Luna, is about 38 kilometres (24 miles) round trip.
The paved highway to the valley is smooth and flat. I can see why biking is popular.
All along the valley are stopping points where you can do short hikes to see views.
The landscape looks like sound waves, as if music is erupting from below. Smooth sand dunes, jagged fiery cliffs, and deep gorges sweep the soundscape.
We stop and look out over a vista.
The land is like nature’s art gallery.
“Where are we?” I wonder. Every science fiction novel I’ve read flashes into mind, like we’re on a giant movie set.
It really is as close to space as you can get on Earth.
We pull over at the old salt mines. I find the archaic equipment way more interesting than the tunnels. There’s something steampunk-esque about it.
It looks like we’re in the middle of winter. The white salt coating the rocks and earth sparkles against the sandy soil. This salty coating is what gives the Moon Valley its name.
Conspiracy theories also point to the Atacama as a prime filming location for the “faked” lunar landings in 1969.
Standing here, I can see why.
At the end of the park are some bizarre, lonesome rock formations. Los Tres Marias, the Three Marias, and what to me looks like a hungry T-rex.
As the heat of the day fades, we begin the long ride back. The highway is segmented with rocky sections meant to slow vehicles.
When your bottom is a bit sore after biking for several days, hitting those bumps is like an electric shock.
Soon, every time we hit the speed traps I scream my way through them. Keith joins me a few times in support.
Thus, we howl our way out of Moon Valley like werewolves.
Awoooooooooooooooo.
The sky is nearly dark as we arrive in town and, for us, it’s about to get darker.
5. Atacama night life (stargazing tour)
With no moisture to cloud the air, the Atacama is one of the best places on Earth to see the Universe.
In San Pedro, I’d stepped outside my friend’s home the first night and was starstruck. The Milky Way was glowing so clearly that I didn’t need a fancy camera to see it in detail.
Tonight, we get picked up in downtown San Pedro and driven out into the countryside.
Kilometres from the city lights, you’ll find the realm of the astronomers. Light is precious here and kept to a minimum.
On Chris’ recommendation, we’d booked the SPACE stargazing tour to see the stars through the most powerful telescopes in the area.
Our guide is a Canadian astronomer working at the centre.
“This is the Disco Ball Star,” he points one scope off into the heavens.
I take a look and am dazzled by the most sparkling diamond I’ve ever seen. Each flash hosts a spectrum of colours.
“Here is a cluster of four hundred million stars,” he says casually, while setting up another scope.
At first, it looks like a smudge, but then the stars come into clarity as a collection. I can’t comprehend how many suns I can see.
I walk from telescope to telescope. In one, there are Saturn’s beautiful rings turned on their side. The planet’s moons stand in a perfect line above them.
“Did you know the rings are made of millions of ice boulders? That’s why we see them so clearly. They reflect all the white light,” our guide says.
Another telescope shows Jupiter close enough to see its famous spot, a giant storm many times the size of Earth.
The universe is incredible but it’s also incredibly cold outside. With no moisture to hold any of the sun’s heat, it evaporates away into the night.
At the end, we all sit inside a round adobe room chatting stars and big questions over hot chocolate.
“What’s the most amazing thing about space right now?” I ask our guide.
“I’m really interested in the new evidence supporting gravity waves. If we understood them more, it could allow us to build new technology to reach the far ends of space.”
Whoa.
Until then, the fastest way to get to other planets is a visit to the Atacama, Chile.
I mean, if it’s good enough to fake a lunar landing here, it’s pretty convincing.
Besides, after spending the day on Mars, it’s nice to return to Earthly comforts, like hot chocolate and a comfy bed.
In San Pedro, you can truly have the best of all worlds.
