A Day On Ruta 40

So our plans required getting to El Chalten, way south, the trekking capital of Argentina, then to El Calafate, and then to Puerto Natales in Chile for our Torres de Paine trek. We are to do warm-up day hikes in El Chalten and El Calafate. But, between Bariloche and El Chalten is the Cueva de los Manos, the Cave of Hands, something very long on my must-see list. It is an hour or so off the route, from Perito Moreno, half way to El Chalten. All that is to say...instead of simply flying to El Calafate and then El Chalten, we had to take the bus to Perito Moreno and then get a transfer to the Estancia at the Cave of Hands. 12 or so hours altogether. Fortunately, El Chalten Travel has all this covered, bus, transfer, lodging and eats. An experience not be missed, anyway, since it was all along Argentina's fabled Ruta 40. Fabled largely for passing through hundreds upon hundreds of miles of nothing, in high winds, interesting perhaps to people who have not seen Nevada. But we'll now proudly paste Ruta 40 stickers on our campers. Jan. 27.

South of Bariloche, you're still in lake country

A protest camp in El Bolsen; I guess we'll be seeing these soon enough in
Trumpistan

But then things begin to dry out and the wind picks up

A shrine, marking a fatal accident...consisting of water jugs

Not a casino in sight

Wind

Interesting settlements here and there, sometimes single units, sometimes
duplexes, as here; perhaps mining or petroleum exploration

Passing through a town

Pretty stark, most of it

More wind, gale force, unceasing

Ruta 40, nowadays paved pretty much all the way; not quite
the adventure it was not very long ago

Argentinan long travel buses are actually pretty nice, deeply reclining seats,
meals served (enchilada with yellow/green/brown interior, juice, cookie),
hot water for coffee, mate', air conditioned, B-grade American movies
("Maldicion" comprises most of the script of these ultra violent movies); we
got to El Chalten just a little late but made our transfer just fine

Road Of The Seven Lakes, 2

Continuing our day in the Argentina lake country...Jan. 26.

Big fly fishing country

Our trusty steed

River connecting two of the lakes

Thus

A free campground...minimal facilities, however

Thus

Forest sculpture

Another beautiful lake

Beware the fresh water crabs, however

She likes it, she likes it

The parilla-meister at Bamboo serves our lunch

Share a single order of steak lomo and frites; portions here are
more than ample, the above would have been 3 filet mignon
portions in the US

Bamboo

In San Martin de los Andes

We miss our camper(s)

San Martin plage

Lago Villarino

Adios, San Martin de los Andes

Road Of The Seven Lakes, 1

In order to see the Argentine lake country, we signed up for a day excursion on the Road of the Seven Lakes, the Ruta de Los Siete Lagos. The excursion was in a Sprinter van, conducted in both English and Spanish, with stops for photo opps and exploration. Technically, the route goes from Angostura to San Martin de los Andes, but since we started in Bariloche, we also got to see rather more of Lago Nahuel Huapi. Huapi is a giant lake, but I think we have now sailed or driven past most all of it. In any case, the seven lakes are: Dopey, Sneezy, Grumpy... wait, no, Machonico, Escondido, Correntoso, Espejo, Lacar, Falkner, and Villarino. We had our longest stop in San Martin de los Andes, enjoying another great parilla lunch, but the town we found most intriguing was Angostura, where we had a brief stop. Jan. 26.

Click to enlarge: leaving Bariloche, a Romulus and Remus and the She-wolf
sculpture in a park by the lake; much Italian culture and heritage in Argentina

Nahuel Huapi

Looking back to San Carlos de Bariloche

Catedral, under which we hiked the previous day

El Tronedor, again

In Angostura, log architecture and log art everywhere; typical of the lake country,
and Patagonia, if more pronounced in this pretty little town

Now starting the Seven Lakes proper

In 2012-2013, one of the Chilean volcanoes erupted and inundated this area with
more than a meter of ash; it took months too clear it all out, first in the towns,
then on the road; this is some of the residue

Big trees all around

We figured this must be called Castle Mountain