Goin´to Patagonia

Well folks, here is the scoop. If you want to go from central Argentina to Patagonia, there are two ways. For all you hustlers, just book a flight or cruise into Puerto Natales. For all you bike racers, your callussed bums will be just right for the 80 hours in buses of variable condition, 15 hours in ferries (again, variable condition), some good old fashioned hitch hiking... oh, and go ahead, set a day or two aside for ¨sorry, no ferry today, bad weather. Maybe tomorrow.¨ Our route, in a nutshell, rolled something like this: Mendoza to Santiago, south along the Chilean coast, ferry to Isla Chiloe, bus further south, ferry back to mainland Chile, border crossing, overnight bus, day bus, et cetera, repeat.

Eventually we arrived in Puerto Natales, which really has nothing going for it except being the springboard into Torres Del Painne National Park, Chile´s (and maybe South Americas) flagship park. Against all of our will, we boarded another bus to the park, where we set out on (my first) a multi day backpacking trip. Our 4 day hike really was not that impressive. Just 3 granite spires rising thousands of feet above an emerald green glacial lake on the first day some deer, vicuñas, glacial avalanches and wild rivers on the 2nd day, more mountains rising 10,000 feet above the valley on the 3rd day, and huge glaciers calving blue, green, and white icebergs into a wind ripped lake on the last... things like that. Mix that with a heavy pack, limited amounts of clean clothes, and two smelly souls in a tiny tent and you get love (or murder). Actually, my biggest gripe was the sun setting at 10:45 and rising at 5 am, which really cut into my required 10 hours per night agenda.

Seriously, the park is amazing, I would venture to say the highlight of the trip so far and most likely the most stunning scenery I have ever seen. Chile has the whole park ¨thing¨dialed. There are refugios every 8 miles, so with reservations and a little bit of cash, one can simply carry a day pack a few hours, then have dinner, wine, hot showers and comfy beds waiting for them. Let the record show we had neither cash nor reservations.

A few days later we found ourselves in El Calafate, home to Glacier Perito Moreno, another gigantic glacier. The glacier thrusts forward about 7 feet per day, producing some pretty spectacular calving. Like everything in Patagonia, no picture will ever capture the size of this glacier. It is a few miles wide, dozens of miles long, and about 200 feet tall. To help you out with scale, the small speck in this picture is a boat that easily holds 70 passengers.

The last destination of our Patagonia adventure took us to the north end of Glacier National Park to hike amongst the Fitz Roy range, just outside of strange Chalten. Those interested in foreign real estate investment, buy here now before the 300 miles of ¨highway¨into town is paved. Oh, the hiking, biking, climbing and view is also okay.

So now we are heading north along route 40, the (gravel) road Che Guevara´s motorcyle puttered up some 55 years ago. Unlike Che, we´ll travel by.... you know what, I can´t see that horrible 3 letter word again. In a few short days we´ll be toasting the Gentry's first foray to South America in Bariloche.

Freedom is a Suzuki Fun

Buses can get a little tiresome. While in Northern Argentina, Brig and I decided that car travel was our ticket to freedom. Buying a car in Argentina couldn´t really be that complicated, right? After a few afternoon beers in the plaza, the idea became more than just a passing thought, we deemed it absolutely neccesary to own a car. We spent an hilarious afternoon being decieved by Argentinian used car salesmen. The idea fizzled almost as quickly as it had materialized. We would have to settle for a 3 day rental.

North of San Juan in the wine region of Mendoza was our road trip destination. The cheapest, most gas efficient car we could find was a little, 2 door Suzuki Fun. She will hereafter be referred to as lil´ fun. We stuffed our bags into lil` fun and waved goodbye to the jolly owner of Classic Car Rental as we stalled out at the first light. Driving in a city in Argentina can be terrifying and as Brig gripped the wheel and I gripped the map, we plotted the quickest way out of San Juan. Soon we were flying along the vineyard lined country roads, windows down, listening to Spanish renditions of bad American songs on the radio. There were 2 bars of gasoline in the tank (whatever that means) and we were free and happy. Turns out that 2 bars of gasoline means the tank is almost empty and lil' fun sputtered to a stop in the first town we came to. The fact that this town didn't have a gas station was only a small dilemna. We asked around at locals homes until we found someone willing to sell us 5 liters at a 250% markup. Well, lesson learned, right? The more bars, the better.

In the next three days, lil' fun took us down multiple gravel roads, past gorgeous painted hills, rolling rivers and windswept valleys and dropped us in lovely campsites each night. We visited the Valle de la Luna, a desolate Mars-like park loaded with red rock formations and dinosaur remains. We fought the 50 mph winds in the little town of Rodeo known for the best windsurfing in the world. We spent a starry night in Barreal under the enormous shadow of 22, 840 ft Mt. Aconcagua, the tallest peak in the world outside of Asia. Lil' fun worked hard for us but the roughness of the road finally took its toll and left her with a flat tire.

All in all, freedom was great and we shed a tear as we left lil' fun with her owner. I would like to think she shed a tear too.