I have not done my job, I have not kept up with posts on my trip, my first big outdoor adventure, my trip to South America.  I survived, I am back in the U.S. (unfortunately), but I must move on, get on with my life.  I will quickly finish this trip in subsequent posts.  I will get to Zarate, a port city west of Buenos Aires, Argentina.  I would ship my van from there, I would hang for days making sure Argentinian customs did not have any problems, and then eventually, I would fly back to the US.  I was glad to be back, initially, but well, time has allowed me to reflect, better appreciate what I had done, where I had gone, what I have seen and experienced.  Even with the challenges, the frequent uncertainty, issues with the language barrier, it was still a blast.  We, me and my van survived, we both made it back to the US, and actually, we have enjoyed a number of smaller, less adventurous outdoor adventures since.  I hope that continues.

Peninsula Valdes was a disappointment, I had hoped to see some elephant seals up-close, and maybe even killer whales offshore, waiting for elephant seal and sea lion pups to stray into the surf. There was really no place to hike, or bike, though the beach at Puerto Piramidides was very nice. After leaving the peninsula, I headed back to Puerto Madryn for a night, more banking, and it was a nice town. I wild camped south of town on a bluff overlooking the ocean before I again headed north the next day. I stopped in Las Grutas for a night on the way, next destination, El Condor, south of Viedma and Carmen de Patagones. This would be my last stop before officially exiting Patagonia and making the run for Buenos Aires. This would in some ways be the last stop on my adventure, the rest would be work, just driving to get to the port city of Zarate, northwest of Buenos Aires, where I would drop off my van for shipment back to the United States. My adventure was almost over.

The trip up Ruta 3 to Viedma was easy, and it was a short trip down to the coast and El Condor. There were a number of private campgrounds in El Condor, and I ended up at one on the west end of town, right across the street from the beach. I planned to chill a bit, start the process of packing, catch some rays, and, see some sea lions and hopefully, a bunch of parakeets.

The first day, it was windy, really windy, but I headed off to the Reserva Faunistica Punta Bermeja anyway, to see some sea lions.  But, this short trip turned out to be another Argentinian disappointment. They charged me $5 pesos to take a short walk to a platform high above the beach, and the colony of sea lions. You could see very little, you were a hundreds of meters above the beach, and again, like Punta Delgada on Peninsula Valdes, I am not even sure if I took any pictures. 

I stayed in and around El Condor for a few days, accessed the wifi at the Tourist Office in town, biked a bit, and went into town, Viedma, still more banking, and had to address a tire which was losing some air. It turned out that the tire had a half dozen leaks, one caused by a nail which had totally penetrated the tire. We put on the spare tire, and did not bother to try and fix the damaged one; I just hoped that I would not get a flat the rest of the trip.

I liked El Condor, nice little beach community, and as it was the end of the season, kids were back in school, tourists were gone, and it was quiet. Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate, it was windy, very windy a couple of days, even too windy to hang on the beach, which was very nice. It stormed one afternoon, really stormed, thunder, lightening, wind and driving rain, the whole enchilada. And one afternoon, on the recommendation of a woman working at the Tourist Office, I biked down to the end of the road in town and walked along the beach to where the parakeets live.  El Condor was home to one of the largest colonies of burrowing parakeets in the world, it was time to see something special. There were none, tons of borrows, but nobody was home. It turns out that the best time to see these animals is in the morning, early, though you do have to go at low tide, as at high tide, the water comes all the way to the base of the bluffs where these birds live.

So, one morning, early, even before coffee, I biked down to the end of town and headed down the beach, and was greeted with quite the spectacle, the largest colony of burrowing parakeets in Argentina (and maybe the world) was awake. And it was loud, really loud, as I walked slowly down the beach taking pictures. The tide was coming in, but I did have plenty of time to enjoy the insanity of thousands of parakeets getting ready for the day. The colony here in El Condor extends over 9 km down the ocean-facing, sandstone bluffs, and is believed to include 35,000 active nest burrows. These birds are highly gregarious, colorful, and loud, very loud. These birds are also monogamous, and lifelong breeding pairs excavate burrows into the faces of cliffs along the ocean, with tunnels of burrows extending up to 250 cm into the cliffs.

I wandered down the beach for maybe 3 km photographing birds, pairs hanging out on the cliff, birds on the wing, lots of birds, hundreds, thousands, it was very cool. The weather was great, plenty of sun on the southeast facing cliffs, and beautiful parakeets everywhere. I enjoyed what would turn out to be my last time exploring the wildlife of South America. Experiencing this huge colony of parakeets was great, an unexpected wonder. 

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I left Camarones after a very good few days, but I still needed to make progress heading north. I had not finalized plans for shipping my van back, but expected to do so very soon. At this point, I still had at least a few weeks, if not closer to a month, though I could not dawdle. 

I drove the 72 km from Camarones back to Ruta 3, and headed north. I passed on Punta Tombo, a common stop for many, as well as Trelew, Gaiman and Rawson and made my way to Puerto Madryn. This was a nice, coastal town, bigger than I expected, and very busy, it was Sunday. I wandered around to see if I could find a cheap hostal for the night, no luck, so I wild camped, in a parking lot along the beach, next to a small naval station.

The next morning, after coffee, breakfast, and a quick stop a grocery store, I topped off the fuel tank and headed up the road to Peninsula Valdes and Puerto Piramides. It cost me $330 pesos to get into the reserve, Reserva Faunistica Peninsula Valdes. I had heard that the peninsula is actually privately owned, even if it is currently managed by the Argentinian park service; there are still several large estancias and many sheep. All I later learned is that the roads are horrible, some of the worst I have experienced during my travels.

I went into town, Puerto Piramides, neat little place, tiny in fact, and headed to the municipal campground, which was a zoo. I paid my $170 pesos for me and my van, and wandered around trying to find a spot to park. There are not really any designated campsites, you just park wherever you can get a little shade, and not block the road. I bet there were a 1000 people in that campground, just crazy. I found a place to park, with at least some afternoon shade, and headed to the beach, which was also pretty crazy. But it was low tide, and the beach was huge, a very nice beach. I went for a swim, water was cold, but nice, and then hung out until early evening. It was a pretty mellow late afternoon, evening. Things quieted down later as many people left, it was Sunday, perfectly fine with me.

The next day I headed off for Punta Norte, about 70 km away, where there was supposed to be a nice colony of elephant seals, a few penguins, and maybe even a killer whale or two. The peninsula supports quite of bit of terrestrial wildlife in spite of all the sheep, but most people visit, especially during the spring (August - November) to see the marine life, including whales, southern right whales. Whales have been reported to frolic right off the beach in Puerto Piramides. Also, the colony of southern elephant seals at Punta Norte is the largest, and most northern colony in the world. Unfortunately, I never made it. I got about 20 km down the road heading out to Punta Norte, and the road turned not just bad, but horrible. It was all ripio of course, but the washboard I ran into was the worst I had experienced anywhere in South America, we, me and my van, just could not take it, and I had to turn around. They charge $330 to get into the reserve, but the roads are so bad, you cannot get anywhere to see the wildlife, I was not happy. I did not totally give up, and instead headed out to Punta Delgado, and while the road was not good, I could still drive it. The problem was that when I got there, there was really nothing to see. The place is the site of a hotel and restaurant, and you have to buy something to get access to the beach, where there was supposed to be elephant seals. Well, after an already long day of ripio, I kind of needed a beer, so did not mind taking a break. But then when I wandered down towards the beach, total disappointment again as you were not allowed to get anywhere near the beach. You could only stand on an observation platform and look down, maybe 1/2 a km to the beach, where I could spot maybe 8 or 9 elephant seals. I am not sure if I even took any pictures, only the interesting lighthouse you pass on the way was worth a photograph. What a waste of a day, I would have been better off just hanging at the beach in Piramides, saved diesel, time, and disappointment. So far, Peninsula Valdes was a total bust, again, not excited about my adventures in Argentina.

I ended up staying at the campground in Puerto Piramides one more night, then a hostal one night so I could get some wifi access. I hung a the beach a bit, worked on my blog, got in a bike ride (which of course included being chased by some dogs) and ate great fish tacos at the Guanaco; they also brew their own beer. I saw very little on the peninsula, and left after three nights and two days pretty bummed. I had few opportunities left to see much of anything along coastal Argentina, and I was technically still in Patagonia. All I could do was head north, hope for at least one more opportunity to see something special. 

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I shot the time-lapse sequence below at my wild camping site in Reserva Natural Cabo Dos Bahias, outside of Camarones, Argentina. I shot the sequence for a couple of hours, on the Auto camera setting, with 4 second intervals. The camera seemed to struggle at times, coming up with the right exposure setting, and even focusing. Things seemed better when the sun went behind the clouds, and this definitely helped when seeing the eclipse. Shooting the sun directly, late morning, a challenge.

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I was happy to leave Caleta Olivia, and after being charged $100 pesos (or $6.50USD) for two cups of coffee in the morning at Hotel Granada (breakfast is usually included, at least in Chile, and even Peru), I could not wait to get out of town. I quickly was back on Ruta 3, heading north, and after a very annoying detour in Comodoro/Rivadavia, big place, I crossed the Pampa Salamanca, heading for Camarones and Cabo Dos Bahias. I was planning on finally seeing a nice colony of Magellanic penguins, for free. It was actually not a terrible drive, all pavement, lots of trucks and some wind, but the van was running great, enjoying a nice run on paved roads, hopefully no more ripio. 

​Camarones, 72 km east of Ruta 3, is a nice little town, not much going on, but that is always ok with me. I headed down to the municipal campground, again, right across the street from the ocean. And while aesthetically nothing special, the campground was fine, think it was $200 pesos, me and my van, bathrooms were clean, hot water available all day, and there was electricity available at most sites. It was pretty busy when I pulled in, but definitely not packed. I pulled out my bike, took a ride to explore town, which did not take long. Next day, off for Reserva Natural Cabo Dos Bahias, natural area southeast of town. After Peurto Deseado, and Caleta Olivia, I was looking forward to getting out there, exploring some natural habitats, and seeing some penguins.

I left Camarones the next morning, and for some reason, things had started to get busy in town. I think it was a Friday, so maybe just the weekend was approaching. But, I stopped in a store, the only one in town, to get some supplies, and learned that there was going to be an eclipse that weekend, cool, had not seen one of those in years. So I headed out of town and into the Reserva Natural Cabo Dos Bahias, 28 km from Camarones. The Reserva is part of a larger coastal protected area which includes 180 km of coastline, the Parque Interjurisdiccional Marino Costero Patagonia Austral. The protected area extends from Cabo Dos Bahias in the north, to Isla Quintano in the south. The Parque protects both terrestrial, as well as marine habitats long the central coast of Argentina. It is part of the Argentinian park system, but they did not charge me, libre, nice. I asked the ranger about camping, and he sent me to Caleta Sara, which cost me $200 per night, and place was, well, not a dump, but boy I should have just wild camped, would have been so much nicer. About the only good things about my night there was the big hairy armadillos running around outside of the fence (camping within a fence, never nice), and running into the two German brothers on motorcycles again. This was the third time I had seen them, Punta Arenas at the ferry dock, Chile, the gate at Monte Leon National Park in Argentina, and now at Caleta Sara in Cabo Dos Bahais, such a small world down here. Later in the evening, we drank a couple of beers, and chatted about our travels. The younger of the two was going to continue to travel for many months, the older, he was finished, three months was enough. It turned out to be an enjoyable evening, even if Caleta Sara was totally not worth it. I would wild camp the next night, for sure.

The next morning, while drinking coffee on my roof deck, did get some nice entertainment from a couple of locals, one on a powered surfboard like thing, and his buddy who was filming everything with a drone, Phantom 3, fun to watch. After the show, I headed for the Magellanic penguin colony down the road, which was ripio, but was not bad. There was a little ranger station at the colony, but nobody was home, and, I was the only one there at the time, it was a bit early for Argentinians. They have metal walkways down to, and really through the colony, so you could not actually walk through the colony, but could walk slightly above, only a meter or so at times. This is a pretty big colony, up to 12,000 pairs at peak, though it was getting late in the season by the time I arrived, so there were not that many birds. And for those of you who have never seen penguins in the wild, they are just fun to watch, comical at times, and always entertaining. Many birds were molting, and many also hid under the walkway, it was already getting pretty warm, and these birds, designed for life at sea in cold ocean waters, were struggling with the heat. There were also a few guanacos wandering around, and across a channel, there was a small sea lion colony as well; you could see and hear them, but you could not actually get to the colony. I wandered around and photographed penguins for over an hour, until other people started to arrive, and interrupted my special time with the Magellanic penguins. I would be back the next day for sure.

I drove until the road ended, about 5 or 6 km past the penguin colony. It was a rugged, and beautiful coastline, only me, rocks and waves, and a few guanacos. I then headed back, past the penguin colony, looking for a place to camp. There are a series of other "caletas", though none actually had facilities. I found a great place to pull off, just after Caleta Paton, nice road, and beautiful views. I was not right at the shoreline, but close, The Atlantic Ocean was in front of me, with a nice little bay beside me. A couple of other vehicles pulled in later, a camper, and then a young couple with a tent, but everyone kept their distance, and it was a great wild campsite, one of the best. It was windy, but not terrible, so the awning came out, wonderful place to hang. It would be a great spot to watch the eclipse the next morning.

The next morning, after breakfast and coffee, went for a ride on my bike, before setting up for a time-lapse shoot of the eclipse. I set up the camera, again set on Auto, pointed it at the sun, and hoped I would get something. The eclipse was supposed to occur sometime after 10:00 am, so I shot from well before 10:00 am, until after 11:00 am. I am not sure if this is the best way to capture an eclipse, but with the sun into and out of the clouds, I figure it was worth a try. The next post has the video, nothing special, but did get a very brief glimpse of the eclipse through the clouds. The camera struggled a bit, with the focus, and adjusting the exposure, especially as the sun move in and out of the clouds. It was interesting.

After the time-lapse sequence, I decided that I would stay another night, so I set up for another time-lapse sequence later in the afternoon, see if I could capture the incoming tide. But unfortunately, my quiet little campsite started to get busy, about 7 motorcyclists show up and pulled in right beside me, two other groups came in as well, and soon there were probably 20 or more people wandering around, including at least two who walked right into my time-lapse shoot. There was not much I could do. The eclipse had brought out the people, the weather was great, and it was the weekend, what would you expect?

I had planned to spend the night, but, the battery died during my time-lapse shoot of the tide coming in, bummer, and the place had gotten real busy, so I decided to pack up and head back to town. It was just after 5:00 pm, and had seen what I came to see, so thought I would head back, get a spot in the municipal campground, shower, and chill in Camarones one more night. I liked Camarones, and Cabo Dos Bahias was the best I had seen so far in Argentina. I still had Peninsula Valdes to visit, and north to El Condor, hoped that Argentina would provide more of what I had experienced in Cabo Dos Bahias and Camarones, it was an enjoyable visit.
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I have now been basically living in my van for over 3 months, and you know, van life is pretty good. I am very happy with the design, the kitchen sink and hand pump, my memory foam mattress, and my desk. The overhead pantry gets a bit cluttered at times, and more than once, the brutal ripio has led to an open door. And when it is my overhead pantry, for some reason, every time, my kitchen knife, a small cleaver really, comes flying out. So lucky I have not wounded a hitchhiker along the way. I did learn very quickly that I needed to put bungee cords on cabinet doors, and secure everything as much a I could while traveling. I would hang my bike from a hook while parked, and at night in the van, but would put it down while traveling, did not want it to pull my entire ceiling down at the first huge pothole. I really like living in my van, campsites are often beautiful, and if the weather is not cooperating, I can hang in my van, and I do not have to crawl into a wet tent. Things have loosened a bit, the kitchen cabinet was shaky upon arrival, and eventually, the desk pulled away from the bed platform a bit. And, the middle leg of my bed platform, that suffered irreparable damage along the Carratera Austral, though bed is so securely attached to side wall of van, two legs has been plenty to hold me. Also, the observation lounge has been fun, happy hours, and a great platform for either photography, or to get away from bugs. The awning works great, even if I have not used it lots, but when I do use it, it works great. I have hauled many hitchhikers during my journey, and they all seem to love it my van, especially the vibrant colors. I like the colors, adds a bit of life to my little cave, because, as I have mentioned, other than the skylight, there are no windows back there. About the only thing which has not worked well, actually has stopped working all together, is my vent fan. I really did not need it during virtually all of the trip, never really got that warm, let alone hot, in the van. And now, I think the vent fan is another casualty of the brutal roads, not working at all. This was not problem, as I could open, and close manually, so if I did want some fresh air, just opened, as long as I remember to close when traveling and if it rained. Overall, I am very happy with build, with my van life. It is not for everyone, but worked for me, for months. And down the road, who knows......

After wild camping along the road I headed into the Bosques Petrificados Natural Monument, and now, National Park in Argentina. The monument and park, were created to protect the petrified wood found at one significant site, but also to protect the ecosystem found in the area, the Patagonian Steppe. I was the first visitor of they day. The actual area with the petrified trees is relatively small, along a short loop hike of maybe 2 km. There are a few impressive trees lying on the ground, dark, with an almost glass-like sheen. You could still see the growth rings in cross-section of some trees, and places when branches came off the main trunk. The trunks are mostly of giant araucaria trees, up to 150 cm in diameter, and were petrified during the Jurassic period, 140 million years ago. It was interesting, but there just was not much there, guess I expected more, especially after the effort it took to get there, and based on what folks had said on iOverlander. I was glad I visited, but the road was terrible, so who knows if it was really worth it. I did get to see my first mara, or cavy, a rabbit-like creature which reminded me of agouti of Central America (which they are related to), but with longer legs. They are part of a group of rodents native to South America, but they almost hop like a rabbit, and have white bands across their butts, always cool to see a new species, and add to my list.

I could not stay long, though some parts of the landscape were beautiful, as I was heading to Puerto Deseado, and because the road to the park off of Ruta 3 was again brutal ripio, I had to move. The drive out sucked, but once on pavement, it did not seem to take long to get to Puerto Deseado. The primary reason for a visit here was a large Magellanic penguin colony which exists in the Reserva National Ria De Puerto Deseado on a peninsula and island just south of town. I headed for town, bank and mercado, and then down to the coast and the municipal campground. I was the only one there when I "checked in". I think every little town in Argentina has a municipal campground, really weekend party pads as far as I can tell. They vary from very nice, to total dives; the one here was just ok, but was right across the street from the ocean. Next, I poked around a bit, only to learn that it was pretty expensive to get out to penguin colony, and apparently there was no way to walk, bike or drive to get there. The cheapest place I could find (of the two in town that I found), wanted $1600 pesos for a 4 hour trip out to the peninsula where the colony is located. This is over $100USD, which was too much for me, I am all about viewing, and photographing wildlife, but want to do so for free if I can. So, I just camped, had dinner, worked on the computer (most of these municipal campgrounds have electricity at each site), and went to bed early.  I did have a nice chat with a young woman who was working out with others, and their running coach. They were doing intervals, intervals which ended in the campground. It is always interesting to chat with locals when I can, but between my terrible Spanish, and the fact that very few Argentinians speak any English, these conversations do not happen often.

Next, it was back onto Ruta 3 and north to Caleta Olivia. I had decided to stop and get a hotel room for one night, or maybe two, get some wifi access, work on the blog, etc. But along the way, I also stopped at a wonderful little colony of sea lions, two groups, probably 100 animals in total. This was just a random spot along Ruta 3, mentioned on iOverlander, but there were lots of locals there checking out the sea lions. It was cool because you could really get up close, take some nice pictures. The big boys could get quickly annoyed if you got too close, but as they are as quick on land as, well a stone, you could get close and really experience these wonderful marine mammals. First, the males are huge, second, they seem to have little squabbles constantly, fun to watch, and third, they seem to be constantly scratching themselves, they must have constant itches. It was fun to hang out and watch them, photograph them, just sit there and enjoy. They did not seem to mind us, and people generally seemed very respectful of the animals. I spent over an hour there, and was the best time I had had in a couple of days, it was worth the stop for sure.

I then headed into Caleta Olivia, and well, what a dump, literally. As you enter town on Ruta 3, you drive through the town dump, a landfill, and there is plastic everywhere, plastic bags stuck to every bush and fence around, place just totally littered with plastic. They also burn their garbage, so there was smoke blowing everywhere, foul-smelling smoke, right along the busiest north-south route along coastal Argentina, strange. I went into town, got a room, Hotel Granada, went downtown to do some banking and shopping (my normal routine whenever in an Argentinian town), walked along the coast, and quickly decided one night was more than enough. The next day I would quickly continue my journey north, but hopefully I would find someplace nicer to stay. On the road again. I had seen some petrified wood and some sea lions, but not much else. The Argentinian people I have met have been very nice, I was just hoping to see more special places, more species, more nature, and so far, I mostly just drive, me, my van, and Ruta 3.

After mud and a puma in Parque Nacional Pali Aike in Chile, it was time for my last border crossing, and the beginning of the long road north to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I would be spending a lot of time on Ruta 3. I did not want to think about my adventure coming to an end, but that was the case, I was ready, and I had a few weeks to get within striking distance of the port of Zarate, which is about 100 km northwest of Buenos Aires. There were still a few interesting places which I wanted to visit, and some different species I wanted to see, and hopefully photograph, so I hoped it would be an enjoyable and productive trip north. 

I got off the ripio leading from Pali Aike, and headed to the Paso Integracion Austral at Monte Aymond, a different kind of border crossing. This is an integrated border crossing, there are not separate facilities if you will. If you are heading north, you do not stop until you are into Argentina, where you wait in one line, immigration, and get two stamps, exit and entrance. Then I waited in another line, Chilean Aduana (customs) where I turned in my vehicle permit for Chile, before I waited in a third line for Argentinian Aduana, where they issued me a permit to drive my van in Argentina. And if you are going south, you do not stop on the Argentinian side, you head into Chile where they take care of exit and entrance formalities. Interesting, and pretty efficient, as this was by far the busiest border crossing I had to deal with, especially compared to places like Rio Bellavista in Tierra del Fuego. I took care of business, still only took an hour or so, and headed into Rio Gallegos on my way, the never-ending search for cash, before continuing on Ruta 3 north. I was heading for Parque Nacional Monte Leon, another one of Doug Tompkins' projects. This is supposed to be a special place, the largest park along Argentina's Atlantic coast. Most recently, the land of Monte Leon was a sheep farm, and in the late 1800s, the land supported more than 40,000 sheep. Eventually, the land was purchased in 2001 with funds provided by The Patagonia Land Trust, Doug Tompkins, and donated to the National Parks Administration of Argentina. And in 2004, Monte Leon became a national park. The park now encompasses 68,169 ha and 40 km of coastline. The park currently supports a large colony of South American sea lions, as well as a huge colony of Magellanic penguins, and guanaco, puma, other species of birds, pretty diverse place. The park does not seem to have many hiking trails, but there is a campground, a beach, and even a coffee shop. I was excited to see this park, it was on my list.

It was another long day of driving, but I got to the park administration, the old estancia, and found everything closed. It was almost 6:00 pm, but I still thought someone would be around. I registered, and was about to leave, when a ranger showed up, and informed me that the park was closed, that the recent rains had caused some real problems with the road down to the beach, and after getting stuck, I was cool with chilling for the night. I headed back down Ruta 3 to the gate and actual entrance to the park, where another overlander was already parked. They were Germans, and had a huge camper, almost military-style truck. I would spend the night wild camping by the gate, and hope the park opened in the morning. It was late anyway, time for bed.

Got up early the next day, and took a walk down the road after climbing the gate, I wanted to see how bad the road was, I did not want to get stuck again. Well, after three trucks drove into the park, two were rangers, and the rangers returned, they told us (by this time I had met the Germans, plus a couple of other Germans on motorcycles who I had run into earlier in Punta Arenas, Chile), that the park would not open that day, and maybe not the next day either. By this time, it was after noon, and I really could not wait around two, or maybe even three days to see if the park opened. I was totally disappointed, and a bit annoyed, as I had walked 8 km or so down the road, and outside of the first puddle, the road did not seem that bad at all. This was a park I really wanted to see, to explore, and now, closed, I was not happy. But, what could I do, my disappointment with Argentina continued, and I left Monte Leon, and headed back north on Ruta 3.

I decided I would head to the Bosques Petrificados National Monument, even though folks on iOverlander had said the road was pretty bad. I got to the turn off, and headed down the road; it was pretty bad, and even terrible at some points. There is no camping in the park, or monument, so I drove to the sign, entrance to the National Monument, and wild camped along the road. It was actually pretty neat, a quiet, desolate landscape, with colorful rocks, a few cavy, and not much else. Another overlander camped off the road about 500 m away, guess waiting for the park to open the next day as was I. I slept well, it was really quiet out there, even with the wind. My van rocks with the wind, back-and-forth, had gotten used to it by now.  

For me, any outdoor adventure, and especially one spent wandering around in another country, is about many things, but first and foremost, it is about the habitats, and plants and animals I see in those habitats, which makes an adventure meaningful. I love to hike, bike, and paddle if I can, but nothing beats hiking down a trail, lined with unique vegetation, when suddenly something catches your eye, some movement, a flash of color, or you just hear something. You are not alone in that habitat. And for me, a given destination, a focus of my travels, is not just about the beautiful landscapes, the plants, the mountains, or the lakes and streams I plan to visit, to experience, it is also about the animals I hope to see, and hopefully, photograph.  My travels so far have taken me from the insanity of Lima, Peru, to Chile, coast and high desert, through the Lake District, and then into Patagonia, Chile and Argentina. And now, I have also wandered a bit in Tierra del Fuego, and headed north into southern Argentina. Along the way, I have seen, visited and explored, even adventured in, many wonderful places, places where I was fortunate to often see some pretty cool animals as well. I began keeping a checklist early in my adventure, and at first, I tried to limit my list to animals I both saw, and photographed. Well, that did not work, exactly, and I saw many animals, especially birds, which I could not necessarily identify. So my checklist became a list of animals I saw, and identified, and often, photographed. This is my list, and I included the scientific name (which I hoped I spelled correctly), just to bore everyone, and because I am a scientist, and this is what we must do. This list is in no particular order, nor is it organized according to group, it is just a list, and images of many of the species are included below. I have also included a location of where I first saw the species, if I remembered, or for many species, simply indicated that this species was common, I saw them everywhere (e.g., guanaco). I have seen many wonderful things during my adventures, but pudu, pumas and burrowing parakeets, all so very cool. 

Black-necked swan (Cygnus melancoryphus)- Parque Patagonia, Chile
​Peruvian pelican (Pelecanus thagus) - Arica, Chile
Black-face ibis (Theristeus melanopis) - everywhere, especially northern locations
Flamingos (are 3 species, Chilean, James' and Andean) - San Pedro de Atacama, few in Parque Patagonia, Chile
Southern caracara (Caracara plancus) - everywhere
Chimango caracara (Miluago chimango) - everywhere, north to south, east to west
Tawny-throated dotteral (Oreopholus ruticollis) - Parque Patagonia, Chile, but common
Magellanic woodpecker (Campephilus magenllanicus) - Parques Pumalin and Patagonia, Chile
Chilean flicker (Colaptes pitius) - Parque Patagonia, Chile
Patagonia sierra-finch (Cometocino patagonica) - Isla Grande Chiloe, Chile
Upland goose (Chloephaga picta) - common, lots in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina
Humboldt's hog-nosed skunk (Conepatus humboldtii) - Parque Patagonia, Chile
Guanaco (Lama guanicoe) - COMMON, Patagonia, Chile and Argentina
Vicuna (Vicugna vicugna) - San Pedro de Atacama Chile, altiplano, Peru
Southern pudu (Pudu pudu) - Pumalin Park, Chile
Ringed kingfisher (Ceryle torquata) - Pucon, Chile
Rufous-collaraed sparrow (Zonotrichia capensis) - everywhere, and as far south as Tierra del Fuego National Park
Red fox, Zorro rojo (Lycalopex culpaeus) - common, especially south, Chile and Argentina
South American grey fox (Lycalopex griseus) - common, Chile and Argentina
Big hairy armadillo (Chaetophractus villosus) - Tierra del Fuego, Chile, coast of Argentina
Lesser rhea, Nandu (Pterocnemia pennata) - common, especially south, Chile and Argentina
King penguin (Aptenodytes patagonicus) - Tierre del Fuego, Chile
Magellanic penguin (Spheniscus megallanicus) - Cabo dos Bahias, Argentina
Mara, Patagonia cavy (Delichatis patagona) - Bosques Petrificados, Argentina
Sea lion (Otaria flavescesns) - south of Coleta Olivia, Argentina
Southern elephant seal (Mirounga leonina) - Peninsula Valdes, Aregentina
Elegant crested tinamou (Eudromia elegans) - Peninsula Valdes, Argentina
Burrowing parakeet (Cyanoliseus patagonus) - El Condor, Argentina
Puma (Puma concolor) - Parque Nacional Pali Aike, Chile 
​

I think most tourists who travel overseas lug along a travel guidebook, I carried three, plus one for just Patagonia which included parts of both Chile and Argentina (thanks Kevin, Jon and Holly). I cannot tell you how many times I would see tourists (and I was very often one of them), sitting at some hostel, restaurant, or bar, pouring over their guidebook, translated of course into German, French, Dutch, even Madarin I suppose. Books are heavy, and can be bulky, though with my van, this was not really a problem, but what about all those trekkers, backpackers, or bicyclists, is it worth to carry a guide book? Well, the short answer is, based on my experience, no (sorry Kevin, Jon and Holly). I think most of these books are written for a tourist who is different from me. I am interested in camping, hiking, and biking, observing nature and natural habitats, and I will occasionally stay in an inexpensive hostel, though it seems like these books mostly target the 3- to 4-star tourist.  For example, I carried travel guides produced by Fodor'sTravel, and while I loved the maps of towns and small cities, and the interesting introductions to some areas, they were really not of much help to me in terms of places to eat or stay. If you go to Puerto Natales, Chile, you are most likely heading up to Parque Nacional Torres del Paine 80 km north, so you are most likely a trekker/backpacker, an overlander like me, or just someone who wants to day hike and take in the amazing scenery and wildlife which define the park. Yet when you look at "Where To Eat", Fodor's lists seven restaurants and cafes, two are $$, three are $$$, and two are $$$$. The "$" denotes how expensive an establishment is, whether a restaurant or a hotel, hostel, and the scale runs from one $ to four, with these obviously being the most expensive places to eat and stay. And when you look at places to stay, you see the same thing, four $$, three $$$, and one $$$$. Where are the less-expensive places? Fodor's does not list any one-$ restaurant or hotel in Puerto Natales, a town mostly filled with the outdoor types, people who are more likely to sleep in a tent than in a four $$$$ hotel. This pattern is very common, whether you are visiting San Pedro de Atacama in northern Chile (though they do list many more one-$ hostels there as that is the most common overnight accommodation there) to Ushuaia, Argentina down south.  Now, having said this, I do want to add that while I found the guidebooks for the individual countries to probably not be worth carrying (I had books for Peru, Chile and Argentina), I did really like the guidebook produced by Footprint, on just Patagonia (thanks Kevin, Jon and Holly!). It has a hard cover, is smaller and more compact, and it seems to cater more to the outdoor type than Fodor'sTravel. I realize that there are a number of other companies making travel guidebooks, and maybe some of them are great (I saw lots of Lonely Planet guidebooks), but for me. The Patagonia guidebook was worth it to haul around and use, the others, not so much. And remember, there are a million of online sources of travel information, and I am sure many guidebooks can be downloaded, so there is really no reason to haul all that paper around with you. Bring a pair of binoculars, or extra pair of socks (or two), but leave the guidebook at home, most just do not seem to be worth it, at least not for me. Happy travels!

While I was a bit disappointed with Ushuaia and Tierra del Fuego National Park, there were many beautiful views as I drove to, and from Ushuaia. It was definitely worth the effort, very glad I made it to the "Fin de Mundo", but it was time to start the long journey north. On my way out of the park, I drove by a guy I recognized, and we quickly exchanged a wave and a smile; he was the Italian I had met in Porvenir a week or so earlier. I headed into town, stop at a bank (again, getting money in Argentina a challenge), look for ice, and stop at a grocery store. I got some cash, but no ice, and in the parking lot of a supermercado at the edge of Ushuaia, I met a couple from Alaska (really Salt Lake City, Utah, USA). They had rented a camper in Buenos Aires, four months for $14,000 USD, had driven south in Chile mostly, now were on their way back north to Buenos Aires. It was nice to chat. As a result of my stop in town, was a bit late hitting the road, back on Ruta 3, and only made it to Camping Hain along the shore of Lago Fagnano. Camping Hain is just on the edge of the small town of Tolhuim, and is an interesting place, another place recommended by folks posting on iOverlander. I met a wonderful young German couple in a rented RV, with a son who could not quite walk yet, but boy could he crawl. They would just throw him on the ground, and off he would go, like a bug, was wonderful. We talked (they were both teachers), drank some wine, and enjoy watching, and photographing, a wonderful sunset. Again, the joys of such an adventure are not just about the beautiful places you get to see, but also the wonderful people you get to meet.

The next day was a long one, and the weather later on did not help. I left Camping Hain pretty early, though did get to say a quick goodbye to the Germans, before heading back through Tolhuim to Ruta 3. And as is obviously a persistence and near continuous trend, I picked up two hitchhikers, a young French couple who had been on the road traveling for over a year. They were heading north, to Buenos Aires, after spending way too much time in Ushuaia trying to basically hitch a ride to Antarctica, which did not happen. We drove north, through Rio Grande, and then up to the border crossing at Paso San Sebastian, and back into Chile. It started to rain just before we crossed the frontier into Chile, and it never stopped. And oh, those countries in South America, they never cease to entertain me. After we left Argentina, we also left pavement, and even though this road is basically the main thoroughfare for people and trucks to get from northern Argentina to Tierra del Fuego and Ushuaia, the road is ripio, it is not paved. The Chileans are working to build a new road, paved, but for now, all Argentinians (and others) who want to drive to Rio Grande and Ushuaia, have to do so on ripio, just brutal. And with the rain, and the trucks, it was not a fun afternoon, we only made it as far as Cerro Sombrero. I dropped off the French couple, they were not finished traveling for the day, and headed into town, wild camped right in town by the main square. This is not saying much, as there is not much to Cerro Sombrero, but it was raining, I was tired of driving, and not much else mattered at that point. I cooked dinner, and chilled, and parking lot where I had settled was actually pretty busy, as the local gymnasium was right in front of the square, so lots of people coming-and-going, regardless of the weather. And also, got to love iOverlander and other overlanders; about 8:00 pm that evening, another rig pulled in beside me, EU plates, nice, new Fiat van. They spent the night beside, guess misery does love company, as it rained all night. 

The next morning, after getting diesel and food, got to stock up while still in Chile, headed for my last ferry ride, a short 30 minute trip across the Estrecho de Magallanes. It was still raining, and windy, and it actually seemed like a rough ride, but we made it. I then headed north, through Punta Delgada, and onto Parque Nacional Pali Aike. Although the rain had mostly stopped, the ripio back to, and into the park, was pretty bad, muddy and slick. It was shaping up to be an interesting afternoon, and evening.

Pali Aike is an interesting place, and a bit out-of-the-way, so the park does not get that many visitors. The park lies northeast of Punta Arenas, along the border with Argentina. There is a massive mine field along part of the road to the park, a remnant of difficult times in the past between Chile and Argentina. Most of the park is a large volcanic field, product of three eruptive periods, the last of which occurred between 16,000 and 10,000 years ago. Most of the craters are highly eroded now, but there are some nice hiking trails, Laguna Ana, and a cave, Cueva Palie Aike. There is really no official campground, but they do allow overlanders and people like me to stay overnight in our vehicles, near the trail head for the Sendero Crater Morada Del Diablo. I was kind of excited, as seemed like such a desolate place, no trees, only a few small bushes, rocks and the remnants of past volcanic activity. I did see a few guanacos, they seem to be everywhere in Patagonia. I headed down the road to the ranger station, a bit concerned, as the road was not good.

Got to the ranger station, and checked in. I met a nice French couple, he was actually working in New York City, and they were down in Patagonia for a quick, two week vacation. We chatted with the rangers, I expressed concern about the condition of the roads, one ranger asked if I had 4-wheel drive and I of course said no, the other ranger just smiled and said it was fine, and they open the gate and sent me off into the park. I started out behind the French couple, driving a small, rented SUV. They stopped to photograph a guanaco, I passed them, and then the road turned bad, and I mean really bad. The road was ripio, but really dirt, no gravel, and those fine volcanic soils just turned to ooze with all the rain, and it did not take long before all forward progress ceased. Me and my Sprinter were stuck. As the road was narrow, I pulled off as far as I dared, as I did not want to make things worse, sink up to my axles. Unless a ranger happened by with a 4-wheel drive pickup which everyone drives down here, I would be spending the night not in their camping area, but along the side of the road in the park. It was cold, it was windy, and it was desolate, not a tree in sight. There was not much I could do at that point though, it was late afternoon, I was at least 4 km from the ranger station, so it was best just to hang out and wait until morning. I knew the French couple was behind me, and also knew they were not camping so they would head out of the park, and they could inform the rangers of my situation.

The French couple did approach and stopped, we chatted, and they went on into the park. They still wanted to see something, even if the weather was terrible. Two other vehicles passed me on their way out of the park, both struggling in the mud. And around 7:00 pm, the French couple returned, heading out of the park and back to Punta Arenas where they were staying. We chatted again, I asked them to tell the rangers I was fine, but that I would need help getting out of the mud in the morning. The park closes at 8:00 pm. I would be spending the night in the park alone, along the side of a muddy road, just me and my Sprinter, or so I thought.

It was cold and windy, but the rain did stop, and a full rainbow appeared. I went for a short hike after having something to eat, but it was just raw out there, still windy even if no more rain. And the whole place was muddy, unless you walked on the lava rocks which were scattered about the landscape. I returned to van, snapped a picture or two of the sunset, and settled in for the night. Then, I guess it was a bit after 9:00 pm, twilight was fading, the wind had died down, and it was eerily still outside of my van. I was enjoying a glass of cheap red wine, and listening to some music with my Goal Zero portable speaker, just sitting in the van behind the seats, looking out the windshield of the van, when I sensed something. It was strange, but I sensed something, not sure what it was, but I had to take a look. Now my van is basically a cave, there are windows in the driver's compartment, windshield and the two side windows, but other than a skylight, that is it. I was sitting back in my cave, it was getting pretty dark in there, when I sensed something, so I put down my glass of wine, got up from my portable camp chair, and leaned forward between the seats of the van to get a good look out of the windows. And there, not 5 m from my van, right front corner, sitting there on the rocky bank along the side of the road, was a huge puma. Yeah, just sitting there along the road, maybe 15 feet from my van was this huge puma, and I mean huge, at least to me. I have seen bobcats before, but never a mountain lion or puma, but this animal looked to be the size of a female African lion, just seemed huge to me. And he was just sitting there, checking out the tree-less landscape which surrounded both of us. I do not think he could see me, as again, my van is basically a cave, and there were no lights on in the van (though my music was still playing). I slowly reached down and grabbed my Nikon which was sitting on the passenger seat in the van, check the lens and settings (put it on Auto, but did not check any other settings). I took a few photographs through the windshield, as I wanted at least one picture to show he was really there. That did not work great, so, moved to the back, and as quietly as I could, which is not really quiet at all, I opened the side, sliding door of the van. I figure as soon as the big cat heard anything, he would be gone, but that did not happen. He clearly tensed up as I hung out the side of my van to take a couple of pictures, with flash going off at this point. He slowly moved away, but then sat down again, I snapped a few more photos, before he finally ambled along the bank at the side of the road, and laid down behind the only little bush around. I thought about jumping out and following, got to try and get a better shot, better angle, but, I was worried about the mud, I had already totally muddied one pair of shoes, did not want to trash my only other pair. Yes, I did not worry about the puma, about providing some diversity to his diet, one has to tire of guanacos at some point, I was worried about getting my shoes muddy. Well, by then it was totally dark anyway, and I determined it was probably better to stay in the van, finish my glass of wine, and think about what I had just experienced, what I had just seen. I was just sitting there, drinking some wine, listening to some music as I watched the twilight fade along the horizon when I sensed something, and that something was a puma. I was stuck in the mud for the night along the road in Parque Nacional Pali Aike, but I was not alone, I got to see a puma.  

The next morning a ranger showed up riding a four-wheeler, and we managed to get me out. But, I had to drive to the end of the road, another 4 km or so, before I could turn around. The sun was out, but the road still sucked, and I was sure I would get stuck again. I made it to the turn-around, and then the ranger abandoned me on my way back, but somehow, I made it out. I stopped at the ranger station to express my disappointment (they should never have let me drive into the park), and to show the ranger my pictures of the puma. I then left Pali Aike, and while I saw virtually nothing of the park, other than the side of the road, I did see a puma, which was very cool. Next stop, another border crossing, hopefully my last, as I headed back into Argentina and north, towards Buenos Aires. I was moving north, and while I still had a few stops to make, most of the places on my checklist had been visited. And now, I had seen a puma, something I will not soon forget.

After leaving Lago Blanco on Chilean Tierra del Fuego, and chatting with a couple of Swiss overlanders, it was time for yet another border crossing, which at this point, would make it three crossings between Chile and Argentina, and I had two more before I would eventually head north in Argentina. I headed down the road towards Paso Rio Bellavista, a border crossing only open during the summer months, and what a hoot. After about 14 km of mellow ripio, I got to the Chilean side of the Paso, and thought I was going to have to honk my horn at the gate to get someone out there. But, guess someone saw me as first a young guy from immigration showed up, then another guy from customs wandered out of one of the row of small cabins which lined the road. And just as quickly as I drove up, I drove off, exit stamp, done, papers for my van, gone, gate up, and then down what could barely be described as a road to the Argentinian side. I had to cross a small river along the way, no bridge, really, just a couple of steel planks across the water, hoped my van would make it, which it did, but really, this is the best you can do? And as before, the Argentinians were totally mellow, and especially out here in the middle of nowhere. I bet these guys had never seen a US passport before, and again as usual, all they wanted to talk about was Trump, the new President in the USA. I got my entry stamp, new papers for me van, and after a brief conversation (".... Trump es muy malo, por Estados Unidos, y toda Sudamerica ....."), I was off down another stretch of just brutal ripio. The Swiss couple I had talked to earlier had warned me, but still, another 40+ km of ruts and potholes and rocks and brutal washboard, it was starting to get very old. I just hoped my van would hold up. 

Survived the 40 km, but it took time, so once I hit pavement at Rio Grande, Argentina, Ruta 3, I hurried down the road towards Ushuaia. I did not make it there that day, stopped 160 km short at a private campground, Camping Norte, another dive, but people were very nice, and at $60 pesos per night for me and my van, dirt cheap. It did not matter, after yet another long day on the road, I was hungry, tired and thirsty, so after a couple of beers and a quick dinner, I took a walk at sunset and then headed to bed. The next day, I would make it back to Ushuaia, a long way south from where I started.

I was on the road early, and with pavement all the way to Ushuaia, figured it would be a short trip, only 160 km or so, and I would be there. Well, the road was good, but the winds were brutal again and, I had to climb up a winding road to a pass, then back down a winding road and eventually into Ushuaia. It took longer than expected, because I also, as usual, stopped often to snap some photos. I had already decided that I needed to stay in a hostel or hotel, even though I heard things were pretty expensive in Ushuaia. I needed a shower, had been a few days, and needed some time on the internet, so got to town, and it ended up taking me hours to find someplace to stay, just was not going to pay $1200 pesos (almost $70 USD) per night. Plus, as I mentioned before, I am not a fan of sharing a room with complete strangers in a hostel, but even those places were expensive, $300 pesos or more for a shared bedroom and bathroom. I found a place for $900 pesos, Hostal Rio Ona (really a hotel not a true hostal), not happy, but did include breakfast (which turned out to be pretty pathetic, and pretty much the norm in Argentina compared to Chile or even Peru). I stayed two nights, did some banking during the day, wandered around Ushuaia, and one night, had the best king crab pizza you could ever imagine, there were huge chunks of king crab leg meat covering the pizza, wonderful. I was in Ushuaia in the early 1980s, and of course, I recognized nothing, the town has really grown, and as it is a jumping off point for cruise ships to Antarctica, it is crowded with shops, restaurants, and well-heeled tourists. I should mention that while the focus of Ushuaia is for tourist heading to Antarctica, it is the terminus for many tourist traveling the Americas, including those traveling from Alaska to Ushuaia. I saw bikers and hitchhikers of all types, a number of overlanders and, there is a good mountain biking culture in and around town. I went on a great ride from the edge of town, up to a ridge above town. The ride almost killed me, as I was totally out of shape by then, had not really been on my bike since tooling around Punta Arenas, and that was hardly riding. But, there is a great network of trails NE of town, and from what I heard, there is some challenging terrain. Too bad I had neither the time, nor the physical conditional at that point to explore. Next, off for Tierra del Fuego National Park.
 
After two nights in the "city", it was time to get back to camping, and hiking. I took off west of town, and Tierra del Fuego National Park is not far away, maybe 24 km, so would be a short day. I heading out of town, and almost immediately, guess what, more hitchhikers. This time I picked up six Chileans, mixed group of university students off on a little backpacking trip before classes started again. They were a nice group, though cramming them, and their backpacks, into my van was a challenge. Fortunately, we did not have far to go. Once we paid our $210 pesos as foreigners to get in, we headed first to the mirador Lapataia, and the "Fin de Mondo", the end of the world (really just a sign, symbolic, but still cool). After a short hike to the mirador, we loaded back up and headed back to one of only three campgrounds in the whole park (well, free campsites, think there is at least one private campground in the park which cost money). I was very disappointed, especially considering the cost just to get into the park. Camping might be libre, free, but it was not free to enter the park, so I expected more. I pulled into only one of a couple of spaces in the Verde Creek Campground which offered at least some privacy, instead of just parking along the river, totally out in the open, like some others. There were barely any facilities, pit toilets (which were not terrible), and that was about it. I did have time for a hike later in the afternoon, an out-and-back hike to Laguna Negra. The next morning before heading out (there was just nothing special about this park, not worth it to stay two nights), I hiked the Del Turbal trail (Peatbog Hike, 2 km), which connects at the mirador to the Senda de La Baliza (Buoy Hike, 3.0 km), before returning back to the campground. I had hoped there would be more to see, more hikes, though I did not make up to Roca Lake, another part of the park, as camping is not free there, and I thought the views would be better further south in the park, along Lapataia Bay which spills out into the Beagle Channel. I was a bit disappointed, there was not much to see, or do in Tierra del Fuego National Park. This would not be my last disappointment in Argentina.

Although I was a bit disappointed in both Tierra del Fuego National Park, and Ushuaia, I still made it to both, and, had driven 7009 miles since leaving Lima, Peru. I had many places I wanted to visit on this trip, during this adventure, and I named this blog page "54 Degrees South" for a reason, I needed to get to Ushuaia. So, I made it to Ushuaia, and Tierra del Fuego and the "Fin de Mundo", places few have ever, or will ever, visit. This is as far south as you can drive, and while there is more to explore south, such as Puerto Williams on Isla Navarino in Chile, south of Ushuaia, and Isla Hornos and Cabo de Hornos, Cape Horn, I had gone as far as I could go. It was now time to start the long journey north, time to hit the road, yet again.
​Erratum: Ushuaia, Argentina is actually a bit closer to 55 degrees South latitude (54.83 degrees S), my bad.

Technology is important these days, and especially on a trip like this. I just talked about gear in my last post, portable power and a portable speaker, obviously tech gear. But even more important than these pieces of equipment is my smart phone, and the various apps I have used during this journey. I mentioned earlier that I rely on a smart phone, my Motorola Moto G (think maybe 3rd generation, but who knows). I buy local sim cards for local network access (Claro in Peru, Entel in Chile, and Movistar in Argentina), buy lots of data (which other than in Argentina, is really cheap compared to buying data in the USA, and everything is more expensive in Argentina), and as long as I have cell service, a signal, I have access to the internet and e-mail. Of course, I have not always had access to a cell signal, often for days, such as the entire time I was in Parque Patagonia in Chile. But in addition to this, using my smart phone to keep in touch via d-mail, I have found certain apps to be extremely useful, and others to simply be interesting. First, you have to have iOverlander, an amazing app where fellow overlanders post information on, and locations of, campgrounds, wild camping spots, gas stations, hostals, restaurants, and other services. I have found iOverlander to be extremely important, pretty much a necessity for me. I have occasionally disagreed with the reviews or assessments provided (like, "...the road is not that bad, we drove 40 to 70 kph.", a description of a road in Argentina which was brutal, took me 2 hours to drive the 50 km mentioned), but generally, fantastic app, got to have it (and works in USA as well). I have also used MAPS.ME a lot, though mostly this is of importance in towns and cities, hugely important to help me navigate a strange town and find hostals, campgrounds, grocery stores, banks, etc. I used Google Maps early in the trip, but it just seemed like a lot of places, business, etc., were missing, things did not seem to be as up to date when compared to MAPS.ME. Some folks have found WAZE to work ok as well, I just never really used it outside of Lima, Peru, pretty good to help you work through traffic congestion in cities.  I also used Google Translate, again more early in the trip, seems to work well English to Spanish, but not as well in the other direction. And finally, I found a few other apps to be occasionally useful, though mostly these were more for entertainment purpose, like the altimeter, "....hummm, 12,000 feet above sea level, no wonder my head hurts, maybe time for more coca leaves". I used an altimeter, Accurate Altimeter Free (ver. 1.2.2), a compass (Compass 360 Pro, ver. 1.2.9), and Earthquake Alert (ver 2.0.3). There are also communication apps which are very useful as well, most of you are aware of Skype, Google Hangout, and WhatsApp, all of which seem to work well in South America, as long as you have good, and I mean much better than average, wifi, which is not often the case. Technology is important, why not use, it helps.
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I brought too much gear, too much equipment, but some was pretty important, or at least entertaining. So here, shout-out to Goal Zero, just a quick review of some equipment I brought, and have used, sometimes often, during my adventure. First, I have really have enjoyed my Goal Zero Rock Out rechargeable, portable speaker, and iPod which provides the music. I do not listen to music at all while driving (apparently, my right speaker in the van did not survive the trip well, constant hummmmm, so annoying, and when I re-balanced the speakers, lost my stereo sound, and was almost as annoying), but did enjoy listening to music in the evening, while cooking dinner, or just hanging out at camp. I could charge both the speaker and my iPod while driving, and the sound quality is pretty good. You are not going to provide loud music for a large party, but for me, the Rock Out speaker worked great.

As for portable power on the road, you cannot beat Goal Zero for quality and performance. My only complaint is that the Yeti 400 Portable Power Station (in combination with the Boulder 30 solar panels) which I use, weighs a ton (well not a ton of course, but it is heavy). The Yeti 400 works really well, especially keeping the batteries for my cameras charged while in the field. I also used it a number of times to keep my computer going, which was really important, as all my images from my cameras were first downloaded to my Toshiba laptop before being copied to external hard-drives for backup and storage. If the Yeti 400 was fully charged, that was enough "juice" to recharge my computer almost twice. The only issues I ran into early was, the weather, and, having enough time to get the Boulder 30 solar panels out to charge up the Yeti. Early on, along the Carratera Austral, there was little sun, lots of cloud and some rain, and days on the road were long, so there was often little time to use the panels to charge the Yeti. It got better further south, and definitely better as I would later move north along the Argentinian coast, but early on, I struggled a bit to keep the Yeti 400 up to full power. As a result of this, and the weight of the Yeti 400, I do question whether I have really needed this equipment. One reason for this is that, many campgrounds actually have power where you can plug in equipment (this mostly in Argentina), and I stayed in enough hostals that if I planned well, I could get a lot of equipment charged while there. There were many times when I really needed, and used my Goal Zero solar equipment, but I just was not totally "off the grid" enough to justify hauling it all the way down here. Got to love Goal Zero equipment, but for me, speaker necessary, Yeti 400 and Boulder 300 solar panels, a bit of a luxury which might not have been worth it to bring along.

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I left Torres del Paine after my time-lapse shoot, but as usual, I was not alone. I actually picked up a special hitchhiker at Laguna Azul, Poshun from Taiwan. He has been on the rode, on his bicycle, since 2014 (I think), and we met that last morning while I was shooting my time-lapse sequence of the torres across the lake. We chatted, and the next thing you know, we were loading his bike, panniers, and the rest of his gear into my Sprinter. He rode with me (avoiding a couple of nasty hills) to a cross-road in the park, I was heading south to Puerto Natales, while he was going to bike north a bit in the park, and camp one more night before also heading to Puerto Natales. I told him where I might try and stay, but you just never know about these things until you actually get to a town. So he heading back into the park, and I headed to Puerto Natales, had to get back on the road, heading south. I hoped that I would see him again, great guy, and very interesting. The only time in a couple of years that he went back to Taiwan was for his sister's wedding, otherwise, he has been traveling the world on his bike.

I headed south, to Puerto Natales, again, and stayed three nights there, two in a nice little hostal, the Tree House Hostal, and one night camping (i.e., sleeping in my van in a driveway), at Plum Tree Camping. Puerto Natales is a nice little town, right on the Golfo Almte. Montt, and as it is a jumping-off point for many heading north to Torres del Paine, it is full of tourists, and is a busy little town. I had some time to bike and explore, and work on the blog. I also met some interesting folks, as usual, including Eric from California, who had ridden a motorcycle all the way from Alaska, heading to Ushuaia, and who knows where else, and a mother and her daughter from DC (really from everywhere as her husband is career military, a Marine, in the USA), very nice people. Next, I continued south, to Punta Arenas, and as usual, I picked up a couple of hitchhikers along the way, couple of young Chilean girls heading to Punta Arenas to visit some friends. I tried to visit a penguinera along the way, it would be my first time seeing Magellanic penguins, a species which I had not yet seen. I started down the road to the Colonia de Pinguino Seno Otway, but some locals stopped me, told me the colony was gone, area closed, mostly due to dogs, damn dogs. I was not happy, just too many damn dogs in South America, they are everywhere, and now, they are clearly impacting the biodiversity of the area, not good. I ended up camping (libre = for free) at a municipal campground north of town, Camping Chabunco, sad place, garbage everywhere, though many sites stretch along the road, right along the coast. One night there was enough. Next night, headed south of town to Reserva Nacional Laguna Parrillar, though not much to do there unless you want to fish. I did fish that evening, tried fishing in the lake, just not what I was prepared for, and fishing in a small stream which meandered below the campsite where I was, was also not productive, just could not get anything interested in anything I tossed out there, assuming there were fish in stream. There are really only two hikes, one a loop, Sendero Chorrillo Hermoso, and a trail along the laguna, Sendero El Nono, one, the loop, in the park. I did the loop hike after fishing, and then hike the Sendero El Nono the other the next morning before I left. The road to get to the reserve was another rough stretch of ripio, plus, much of the landscape completed denuded, all trees were cut, now just open fields filled with stumps. It was here where I really started to try and think what these places should look like, what vegetation should be here, especially in southern Chile and next, on Tierra del Fuego. The name of the Reserve is taken from the name of a once common shrub, the Magellanic currant shrub, part of what is called the lenga forest (Nothofagus pumilio) and which includes Magellanic coihue (Nothofagus betuloides). The genus, Nothofagus, or southern beech, dominates the forest on the south here, with a number of different species which were once common on low forests which dominated the area. Now, most forests are gone, cut to clear land for raising sheep, which are everywhere, especially in Chilean Tierra del Fuego. The few forests which do remain are interesting, though this far south, there is not much diversity, either for plants, or animals.

After my brief stay in the Reserve, I explored a bit before heading north into Punta Arenas. I was not impressed, just a busy town, a bit old and disheveled, with a busy port. I stayed two nights at a hostal, Hostal Adventura Austral, only to get organized, do some shopping (food), and work on the blog. I caught a late ferry across the Estrecho de Magallanes ("Strait of Magellen") to Porvenir, the only settlement of any size on Chilean side of Tierra del Fuego, and the provincial capital. I had left Patagonia, and was now in new territory, Tierra del Fuego.

Tierra del Fuego, known as the "Land of Fire", is an archipelago at the southernmost tip of South America, and the main island is called Isla Grande Tierra del Fuego, or just Tierra del Fuego. Tierra del Fuego is divided into both Chilean (62%) and Argentinian (3%) territory, though some islands have been disputed for years. My eventual goal was to get to Ushuaia, the southernmost "city" in the world, and a point in Tierra del Fuego National Park, Argentina, known as the Fin del Mundo, the "End of the World".

As the ferry got in late, I wild camped by the lighthouse outside of Porvenir, nice quiet place to hang out for the night. The next day, after a quick stop in town (where I met a nice Italian guy, would see him later along the road leading to Tierra del Fuego National Park west of Ushuaia), headed for a newly established king penguin colony not that far away, the only king penguin colony that I am aware of found in Tierra del Fuego, or anywhere outside of the islands of the Subantarctic, such as South Georgia Island. I picked up more hitchhikers at the edge of town, two young Swiss women heading to the penguin colony as well. The road sucked again, took over two hours to drive the 80 km to the colony. The colony, Campo de Los Pinguinos, is just outside of Onaisin, and the colony is small, with only about 50 birds as far as I could see. They charged each of us $12,000 pesos, and you were not allowed to get close, I think we were well over 50 meters away, so really not much to see. It was cool to see king penguins, again, but it will take many years for the colony to grow, and make for a better viewing experience.

I wild camped again, along a stream just up the road from the colony. Tried fishing that evening, and again the next morning, but it was too windy, which is pretty much the case most days on Tierra del Fuego. I next headed down the road, all more ripio of course, to Cameron, then east to Russfin, where I fished the Russfin River, through Rio Grande, where I also fished the famous Rio Grande River, before heading to Lago Blanco. The fishing was tough, just too windy for me and my light tackle. I did get some interest in the Russfin River, but just could not keep my fly on the water, wind kept blowing, picking the fly right out off the water, just crazy. The drive was not that bad, considering the fact that it was all ripio, dirt and gravel. And you are immediately struck by the desolate nature of the landscape on Tierra del Fuego, especially in Chile. Though it appears desolate, that does not mean that there is no life, as I think there are a billion sheep on Chilean Tierra del Fuego, they were everywhere. So again I wonder, what would this place have looked like before Europeans arrived and cut all the Southern beech forests down to graze sheep, and the occasional cattle? What is Tierra del Fuego "supposed to look like"? How beautiful might this place before "BE", "before Europeans" arrived? I do wonder, and am curious if much native vegetation exists anywhere in Tierra del Fuego, outside of a few small patches of woodlands preserved by chance, or the rare protected area or park. I do wonder.

The road to Lago Blanco was nice, lots of scraggly trees so characteristic of vegetation here, constantly buffeted by the wind. And the lake, was very beautiful, but wind was brutal. I hiked and biked a bit that afternoon before dinner, others showed up, including some fellow overlanders, both vehicles containing Swiss couples. I chatted with the younger Swiss couple the next day, always interesting to talk to others on the road, good source of information. I was now heading back into Argentina, driving east to Rio Grande, before then heading south and west to Ushuaia, 54 degrees South latitude.

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I understand that talking about 'bodily functions' not of interest to most, but it is when you live in your van and wild camp quite a lot. Having a dependable toilet is important. Guys, well we have it a bit easier than women, we can pee almost anywhere, including in a bottle if paddling (women can as well, just not as easily). But when it comes to taking care of other business, I for one am not of fan of just finding the nearest tree, especially when you are in so many places where there are no trees. You need a portable toilet. After some research, I bought a Dimetic, a small, portable, chemical toilet. The bottom reservoir holds 5 gallons, enough for 45 flushes or more, according to the manufacturer. The top container holds 3 gals, I think, and I add little chemical pillow packs to the bottom reservoir each time I empty the bottom. Well first, it works great, you take care of business (and be sure to use the special toilet paper designed for these toilets, any RV or marine service stores sell it), then you simply pump it up to pressurize, hit the button, and the contents of the top bowl flush into the bottom. You then close off the bottom storage reservoir, and secure so that things do not bounce around too much. Also, especially when you are climbing in altitude, be sure to occasionally open the slide between top and bottom, with the lid closed, this depressurized the bottom reservoir, helps avoid a bit of mess later when you need to use the toilet. And that is it. It is easy to empty, you simply detach the bottom reservoir, proceed to a dump station or even a regular toilet (I often use those nasty pit toilets you find at some campgrounds), and empty. There is a swing arm pipe, swings out to make emptying every easy. There are other portable toilets out there, but this one works great, is easy to use, and even if it does not last 45 flushes (more like 30 or so), I am very happy so far. Because as we all know, sometimes, you just have to go.
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Torres del Paine National Park gets its name from the torres, three granite spires arising from the Paine massif. They are impressive towers. The time-lapse sequence below was shot my last morning in the park, looking over Laguna Azul. The mountains are what make these places special, even if you have no interest in actually climbing any of them, and having the ability to do so might help as well.

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As I mentioned earlier, there were guanacos everywhere in the park, and especially at one open area along the road up to Laguna Azul, a stretch of road I drove four times as I camped at Laguna Azul for two nights, just not that many other places available in the park. These animals are fun to watch, so, decided to set up for a time-lapse sequence, capture a little time with the crazy guanacos. Dance of the guanacos.

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The most visited, and most well-know national park or reserve in Chile, and really in all of Patagonia, is Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, south of Parque Nacional Los Glaciares which is in Argentina, and 80 km or so north of Puerto Natales in Chile. This park was created in 2013, and currently measures 242,242 ha, and is a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. The park gets part of its name, 'torres', which means towers, from three granite spires, part of the Paine massif, which dominate the skyline on a clear day. The park is full of small glaciers, lakes and rivers, along with the mountains, and lots of wildlife. The park is also pretty crammed with tourist, especially hikers and trekkers, with over 150,000 visitors per year. This has become a problem, so starting this year, you actually need advance reservations to stay at the campsites and refugios (more than simple huts, food, beer, wine available, comfortable beds, really more like mini-hotels, with a price to match), and right now, things are a mess, and amazingly expensive. There are two very popular treks in the park, the "W" trekking route, which takes most about 4 to 5 days, and "O circuit", a trek around the park with takes closer to 8 or 9 days (and costs over $250US if in refugios). This year, you need reservations to camp at the designated campsites along the trail, and since dispersed camping is not allowed, you must have reservations to do either trek (unless you are from Italy, and you use the rules to your advantage, and hike the "W" without reservations). And to complicate matters, there are two different, private companies managing the refugios and campsites, Fantastic Sur, and Vertice Patagonia. And if you include Sodexo (yes, that Sodexo, part of the Marriot group in the US), which runs the campground at Pehoe in the park, you have at least three private companies involved here, and it seems like a mess to me. I could not get any reservations last-minute, and I had no choice but to be last-minute as I never know where I am going to be from day-to-day, or how long it will take me to drive where I am going (always longer than I would think!). As a result of the popularity of the park, and insanity of private management and the reservation system, there are very few options to camp in the park, though having my van turned out to be huge. Other than the campsites which are part of the two treks, there are only three campgrounds accessible by vehicle in the park, plus one just at the edge of the park, and, Laguna Azul.

I left El Calafate early, and of course, picked up a hitchhiker on my way out of town. It turned out that he was heading north, not south, so I dropped him off at the crossroads where Rute 40 heads north, and Ruta 40/5 head south towards Rio Turbio, across the border from Puerto Natales in Chile. I had decided to cross the border back into Chile north of Rio Turbio, at Paso Rio Don Guillermo, and into Cerro Castillo, Chile, closer to the park. It was another pleasant drive, though windy as heck, the usual in Argentinian Patagonia, all paved, no ripio. I detoured a bit to avoid a nasty stretch of ripio, into Esperanza, before heading to the border. Now, I have not talked much about border crossings, because, other than when I left Peru and first entered Chile, crossings have been easy, especially when you go into Argentina. The Chileans are more serious, and I always declare that I have something, which I always do, and this gives Chilean Aduana (customs) some fruit, vegetables, meat or honey to confiscate, then I am on my way. They never search my van, they actually sometimes do not even look inside. You just go to immigration of the country your are leaving, they stamp your passport, snag you driving permit, and off you go, through the gate and into the country you are entering. There, you first go to immigration, where they stamp your passport, before passing you onto customs, where you take care of paperwork for the vehicle (which can take only a few minutes if there is no line, and the guy knows what he is doing). And if you are going into Chile, they want to look at the van, but only so see what food you are bringing in, most of which they confiscate, fruits vegetables, honey and meat. And that is it, off you go through another gate, into the next country. As it turns out, I would go back and forth between Chile and Argentina a number of times on my way south to Ushuaia, Argentina, and then when I head back north. I especially like crossing at the out-of-the-way as things are very mellow, and all the Argentinians want to talk about is Trump.

After crossing the border back into, I realized that I did not have as much Chilean pesos as I had thought, so had to head down to Puerto Natales before getting into the park. The road was great, but it was late, so I wild camped at Lago Sofia, nice spot, beautiful lake, and popular with the locals. There were others camping there (I picked up for locals on my way in, they were going to camp for two nights before heading up to Torres Del Paine), a group of kayaker playing in the waves (it was blowing as usual), and later, just some folks who wanted to hang out, drink some wine, and camp along the lake for the night. Next morning, quick trip to a bank, and a grocery store before heading back up to Torres Del Paine. I picked up two hitchhikers  heading to the park for a day, one, a local who works in the park, Alajandro, and his friend from Austria, think her name was (will remember later); he told me about Laguna Azul, which again is not an official campsite. We got to the park administration building, road not great, I paid my park entrance fee, $26,000 pesos, and headed off up the road to Laguna Azul. The road was actually not bad, weather good, and place was beautiful, and guanacos everywhere. Laguna Azul was very nice, only a few overlanders, campers there, a nice bathroom with shower, though park ranger first annoying one I met. It was a nice place to camp, and when the clouds cleared a bit, you could the see the torres, the three granite spires which give the park its name. I went for a great hike, to Cebolla Lagoon, hung by the lake, and enjoyed my first evening in the park. Next morning, took off for a mountain biking ride along the south shore of Laguna Azul, a horseback riding trail, to the rim of Macho Canyon, out-and-back ride, nice to be on my bike, even if totally sucking wind on anything uphill. I then headed out, could only stay at Laguna Azul one night at a time, heading wherever. Did stop along the way, great time-lapse shoot of guanacas, real fun, until the wind blew my tripod with camera down, but still fun.

I camped that night, after driving along a beautiful road through the park, to Pehoe Camping Zone, run by Sodexo of the USA, $10,000 pesos per night, hot water, small shelters, not much, except killer views, at least from my campsite. Place was pretty quiet. I hiked up to the Condor lookout in the evening, short but steep, and wind was brutal, and this before it started to rain. The next day, I headed back to Laguna Azul, and along the way met a group of guys on bicycles, riding from Ushuaia to Vermont, great guys. I will try and post their url when I find their card, yes, many folks produce business cards so they can hand them out to folks, follow their blog, follow their adventure. I had hoped to backpack and camp one night at Chileno Lodge and camping zone, nope, full, tried even just staying at the camping zone at Las Torres, full, ferry across Pehoe Lake to Paine Grande ranger station and camping, not going to happen. Place did not seem that crowded, but with the new reservation system, they really restrict things, and without reservations, forget it. So, back to Laguna Azul, no reservations required, plus nice, quiet and beautiful place. That would be my Torres Del Paine experience, though did have a nice time-lapse shoot in the morning, and, met a guy from Taiwan, on his bicycle, who has been riding, different places around the world, since 2014. Another interesting person I met along the way. Torres Del Paine is beautiful, a special place, but the Chileans need to figure out how to run a park, to all more people to camp, and explore. Is definitely a special place, though just wish I could have spent at least one night in the backcountry, in my tent, but was not possible without reservations (unless you are from Italy like two hitchhikers I met, they hiked late, showed up to campgrounds late, without reservations, and the rangers could not sent them back at that time of the day .... smart Italians). It was a great place, even if I was only able to spend three nights there. Next, back to Puerto Natales, then head south, eventually, Ushuaia.

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I thought I might have a quick post on money matters, issues associated with money and international travel, especially in South America. First, and most importantly, it is a cash economy while traveling, no matter what anyone tells you. And when I say cash, I mean cash in local currency, not US 'green backs'. While some places will take US dollars,  you are going to get a terrible exchange rate, which is dumb. I saw a Chinese woman buy a poster in small store at a camping site, Pehoe camping zone in Parque Nacional Torres Del Paine, with US dollars, and she paid almost $30US for a poster which should have cost her just less than $20US if she had used Chilean pesos. Exchange rates do vary, but it does help to figure things out quickly so you know how much things really cost. At first, $10,000 Chilean pesos sounds like a lot of money, but depending on the exchange rate, that is only about $15.60USD. And, exchange rates and value of different currencies vary over time, and in different countries. For example, below are exchange rates as of 24 January 2017 for exchange of Peruvian Neuvo Sol, Chilean pesos and Argentinian pesos. They are different, by orders of magnitude, and I am sure they have changed since I looked them up back in January.
1 USD = 15.9 ARS (Argentinian) and 1 ARS = 0.063 USD
1 USD = 652.99 CLP (Chilean) and 1 CLP = 0.00153 USD
1 USD = 3.28 PEN (Peruvian) and 1 PEN = 0.305 USD

To help me, I calculate value in USD of set amounts of local currency, so when a vendor tells me something is going to cost $500 ARS, I don't have a heart attack, "what? A six-pack of good beer and a bag of ice costs $500 pesos? Are you kidding, 500?" ($500 pesos is a little more than $30US, which is still a lot for some beer, but was in El Calafate, tourist town, in Argentina, where everything is more expensive). For example, I can calculate conversion of $1000 of local currency to USD to get an idea of how much things cost, really helps me keep track of what I am spending.

1000 ARS = $62.75USD, $1000 CLP = $1.56USD, and $1000 PEN = $299.16USD

In general, things are much cheaper in Peru than in either Chile or Argentina, Argentina is definitely the most expensive of all, and things cost more the further south you travel. You can expect to pay more for a liter of fuel in Punta Arenas than you would in Valdivia, Chile. 

So, learn the conversion rates, and get a great ATM card and get cash whenever you can. I got a Charles Schwab Bank debit card, and so far, has worked great, as long as I remember to notify them when I move from one country to the next. Plus, they reimburse all ATM fees no matter where you are in the world, and they have no foreign transaction fees, so it does not cost you to use it often. This can be very important in some countries, like Argentina, where I (everyone really) can only take out $1000 to $1500 Argentinian pesos at one time (and for some, this is per day), and this is only $62 to $91USD, not much in Argentina where everything costs more. And finally, what they say in the guide books is true, in places like El Chalten, Argentina, they have only two ATM machines (and my card only worked in one of them), and they often run out of money. So when traveling in western Argentina along the mountains, think of cash like fuel, get some whenever you can, keep the wallet, and tank, full, as it might be some time before you can get more cash, or diesel, and you do not want to run out of either.    

Ruta (or Route) 40 is kind of like the Carretera Austral of Argentina, the road which runs south along the mountains which separate Argentina from Chile. And this is the main road for tourist travel in Patagonia in Argentina, connecting very popular tourist destinations such as Bariloche (properly San Carlos de Bariloche) in the north (more in Argentinian lake district than in Patagonia), to Rio Turbio, across the border from Puerto Natales, Chile, in the south. Puerto Natales is the gateway to Parque Nacional Torres del Paine, Chile's most visited park about 80 km north of town. Ruta 40 actually continues onto Rio Gallegos along the coast, where it ends at the Atlantic Ocean. The landscape along Ruta 40 in Argentina is very different from what you see along the Carretera Austral, and, most importantly, most of Ruta 40 is paved! The landscape along Ruta 40 between El Chalten, and El Calafate, my next destination, is mostly pampa, dry grassland, with a few hills, and lots of guanacos, including many dead ones hanging from the fences which seem to line both sides of the road, from Perito Moreno where we picked it up in the north (I had hitchhikers as usual), all the way south, at least until I got off and headed west to Cerro Castillo, Chile and P.N. Torres del Paine. While guanacos can run, up to 35 mph, they are apparently not agile jumpers, and it is clear that many try and jump the fences which are everywhere, and while line the road, and some do not make it. What a horrible way to die. They must jump, get caught, and eventually die of thirst and hunger, horrible. There must have been something about the more northern stretches of Ruta 40 I drove, where we saw many dead guanacos hanging from the fences, but I saw very few further south on Ruta 40, or on Terra del Fuego. Sad.

I picked up a young married couple, Argentinians, heading for El Calafate, and soon we were back on Ruta 40 heading south. It was actually a quick ride, and while windy, always windy, especially in Argentinian Patagonia, the road was paved the entire way, quite a change from life on the Carretera Austral in Chile. I dropped the couple off at their hostal, wandered around a bit, and ended up at Camping "El Niriguao", which turned out to be very nice. There were neat parking places/campsites, lined with small trees, electricity at every site, nice (and very clean) bathrooms, with hot water showers, and a common room with better than average WiFi, all for only $130 Argentinian pesos, not bad. I stayed two nights, gave me time to do some business in town, hit the supermercado, and work on the blog. El Calafate was a nice town, plenty of shops, and outfitters, now a town for tourists. I do not mind this, seeing lots of hikers and trekkers wandering around town, people from around the world, is pretty cool in my book, outdoor tourist a just a different breed from tourist you find wandering around museums or historic sites. Many actually trek south and across the border into P.N. Torres del Paine in Chile, while I think others trek north, across the glaciers, and eventually up to El Chalten. I did not explore town much, though did wander a bit, tried to update my vehicle liability insurance in Argentina.  Then after a couple of night, off for a place called Lago Roca, west of El Calafate and on the way to Parque Nacional Los Glaciares (again, already visited this huge park when hiking to Fitz Roy), and the Glaciar Perito Moreno. There is a campground at Lago Roca, and, camping libre, free, and when I got there, it was very quiet. I found a spot with a great view of the lake, and mountains and glaciers off in the distance, hiked a bit to explore, got on my bike for a ride, really enjoyed being back camping, and not in a town. I did get some neighbors, but included a wonderful family pictured in an earlier post, husband Swedish, wife from the US, and with two great kids. It was fun to meet them, chat a bit, and enjoy an evening glass of wine (or two) together. He is a big fisherman, and I was tempted, but I did not have an Argentinian fishing license like he did, so I did not join him down at the lake. I guess he and his son caught a couple of nice rainbow trout their first night in camp, but not much after that. It was a great place to spend a couple of nights before heading to the glacier.

Parque Nacional Los Glaciares and Reserve cover an area of almost 600,000 ha along the border between Argentina and Chile in southern Patagonia, and is now a World Heritage Site. The park contains 47 large glaciers, including Glaciar Perito Moreno, the most famous of those in the park. Glaciar Perito Moreno is big, 250 square km, and 30 km long. The terminus is also 5 km wide, with an average height of 74 m where it spills into Lago Argentino. This glacier is unusual, as it is advancing (or at least is stable) and not retreating like most glaciers around the world. This glacier is also a major tourist attraction, as it is big, and very accessible. There is an extensive system of walkways which allow you to view the glacier from many angles, and very close, plus, trekking on the glacier is possible, though expensive (something like $250US for 1/2 day trek on the ice). And, it costs you $330 Argentinian pesos just to enter the park for a day, so I could not afford a boat ride or a trek. Even though $330 pesos seemed like a lot to enter a park just for the day, it was worth it, though weather was totally crappy for me, as within 30 minutes of my arrival on the walkways to view the glacier, it started to rain, hard at times, so had to put my camera away. I still walked around a bit, waited like so many to witness a huge chunk of ice calving off the main glacier and crashing into the lake. Did not happen, though still pretty cool to be so close to such a huge chunk of ice, definitely worth the $330 pesos. But it was raining, so I did not last long, back to El Calafate, camp one more night before heading south, as always. And my next destination, another special place, as I was headed south, and back into Chile, I was heading to Torres del Paine, a crown jewel of Chilean Patagonia. I was heading back to the mountains. 

First, as I think I mentioned before, I am a total gear junkie, I like gear, I own a lot of it, and what the heck, I might as well share my knowledge and experience like so many others out there. I do not test gear, I do my homework, I buy the best gear I can afford, and then, I use it, and hope my homework has paid off. Now, this does not mean that I never make a purchase without exhaustive research first, impulse buying does happen. Also, I enjoy many outdoor pursuits, so I have lots of gear used for different kinds of activities, though most of my time is spent just camping, biking, hiking and paddling (though I have skied (downhill) pretty much my entire life, I also snowshoe, fly fish, I even have a SUP).
Previously, I talked about stoves, which was essentially Part 1 of my Just Gear series. Here, a very quick review of my new backpack. My last backpack, a Kelty Coyote 65, I had for years, and it was time. I happened to be in LLBean in Freeport, Maine late last spring, and I wandered down the isle of backpacks, many sizes, shapes and colors. After chatting to folks there, and trying on a few of the models I felt would work best for my purposes, I ended up buying a nice Osprey, and on sale, all packs were on sale, kind of rarity at LLBean. But when I got home, filled the pack with what I figured I might take on an overnight, or a long weekend trek, all I am likely to do at this point, it was not even close, no way my tent, sleeping bag, stove, pot, other camping necessities would fit. So, next day, back to Freeport, but the next largest Osprey model was sold out, and no rain-checks on backpacks (at sale prices), so I ended up buy a Deuter, German brand, very popular in Europe (and thus in Patagonia). I had tried on the pack the day before when I was basically trying on every pack within the range of sizes which seemed appropriate for how I would use it; have no plans for through-hiking the AT or the Pacific Crest Trail in the USA anytime soon. I really wanted an Osprey, but, as the size I wanted, needed was no longer available, I bought the Dueter, ACT Lite, 65+10. This is a good size for most of us, and the pack fit well, at least in the store. The list price was US$209, but I paid much less, again, was on sale. I got it home, threw in the pile of gear heading for South America, and did not even bother to take off the tags, let along actually fill it with gear, try it on, adjust it, etc. Oh well, would figure things out when necessary.

Unfortunately, "when necessary" did not come until I was in Argentina, El Chalten, and Fitz Roy, when I finally got a chance to give my new pack a test. So, loaded it up, gear and "supplies" for two nights, up to Laguna Capri, 4 km up towards the Fitz Roy massif. The pack filled up nicely, separate, bottom compartment easily handled my sleeping bag (15 degree down bag, old, but still in service), sleeping pad (Big Angnes inflatable, Q-Core SL sleeping pad, which I love, or loved, until it developed a leak, very annoying leak, worse than ever, arrrrggggggg), and my camp pillow (Therma-Rest Compressible pillow, own two of them, large and medium, love 'em). The main compartment easily held my tent (Marmot, Limelight 2P) and poles, stove (MSR Dragonfly with fuel canister, see note below, I am an idiot at times), one pot from my MSR nested set, "spork", matches, headlamp, some food, etc., pretty standard stuff for a couple of nights camping. There is one outside pocket in the back which held a couple of last-minutes items, snacks, and side pouches, one for my camera tripod, the other for my Nalgene water bottle. So, bottom-line, this pack held everything you would need for a long weekend outing, though not sure about a 10-day outing in the White Mountains in New Hampshire, US. And, once I swung it up there, felt great, but there are like a 20 straps to adjust, pull in this, tighten that, etc. If properly adjusted, pack rides nice, though I never seemed able to get the hip belt as tight as I would have like. The hip belt is not fully free and independent of the pack, it is attached at the back, and I just could not get it as tight as I would have like. But everything else, once you figure out which strap does what, work great, especially if you pull the pack into your back properly (I got some help from a Canadian, who happens to own a camping equipment store in Toronto, who adjust packs all day, who I randomly ran into while hiking down). I like my new pack, and you see a ton of them on the trail. I think Osprey is still the best for many, but do not be afraid to go European, and try a Dueter, they make excellent packs, I am happy with mine. Go for it, and get out there. 

My travels so far have taken me to some amazing places, Lake Titicaca in Peru, down the Chilean coast, up to San Pedro de Atacama, south along the Carretera Austral, to Parque Patagonia, into Argentina and El Chalten and then back into Chile to Torres del Paine. The scenery has often been amazing, though the roads, well, sometimes the ripio can be brutal. I have spent way too much time driving, but have visited some amazing places, and enjoyed hiking and camping in some very cool locations. And the one constant during my travels, has been the wonderful and interesting people I have met along the way, and especially in Patagonia. There is a brotherhood, and camaraderie, which exists among those of us who travel in Patagonia, and especially along the Carretera Austral. You are immediately friends with others you meet along the road, at campgrounds, or in small towns and cities. We are all here for the same reason, whether hitchhikers, bikers, motorcyclists, or overlanders, we are all here to experience Patagonia, the mountains and rivers, the vegetation and wildlife, the glaciers and perennial snow-pack, the beauty of southern Chile and Argentina. We are all here to enjoy life at the bottom of the continent, to experience the wildness that is Patagonia. And while Patagonia has not been quite as "wild" as I had expected, it has been a wonderful journey, full of beautiful landscapes, and some interesting people and their stories. I cannot get into all of them, but it has been really fun to meet these wonderful people, from around the world. I have already mentioned Thomas the Dane (and his Aussie companions), and Thomas the Swiss, but there are many, many others I have very much enjoyed meeting. I  have met many Germans during my travels, and Dutch, along with Danes, folks from France, Belgium, Sweden, United Kingdom, Israel, Australia, New Zealand, Italy, Spain, Russia, South Africa, Taiwan and Japan, a bunch of South Americans (Chile, Argentina, Columbia, Brasil), and of course a few from the United States.

​There are many interesting people traveling the back roads and trails of Patagonia, and there seems to be real camaraderie among us all. Most recently I met Eli, Cam and Noah, biking from Ushuaia, Argentina to Burlington, Vermont, USA, check out their blog www.mundopequeno.org, and PoShun from Taiwan, who has been biking in different regions of the world since 2014. I met all of these folks in Torres del Paine, the three bikers heading to Vermont, USA, on the road from Pehoe camping zone, and PoShun stayed at Laguna Azul where I also stayed; he and his bike rode a number of km with me heading south out of the park (I was heading to Puerto Natales, he was going to camp one more night in the park). These folks on bicycles are the real studs of the Carretera Austral, of Patagonia in general. I have seen them climbing hills which my Sprinter van could barely climb, battling brutal winds on Ruta 40 in Argentina on the way to El Chalten and Fitz Roy, dodging potholes which would swallow a VW Beetle, and pedaling through driving rain and wind. They are the studs, and they just keep going, riding on, day after day, no matter what the roads and weather conditions are, they just keep riding, total studs. I have already mentioned Thomas the Dane, biker, one of these studs, am sure I will see him again, told him I would buy him a beer in Ushuaia where we both are headed (I have seen him something like 7 times during our travels in Patagonia). I also mentioned meeting Thomas the Swiss, we spent a number of days together and ate dinner twice, in Parque Patagonia, not sure what happened to him. And I met Nick from Colorado, spent Christmas Eve together drinking my beer, and experienced a 7.7 earthquake together on Christmas day. I could go on, and on, just so many wonderful and interesting people, from so many different countries around the world, in some ways, the best part of the trip, is this Patagonian Brotherhood. I hope all of you are all doing well. Be safe, wherever your future travels might take you.

I camped one night at Laguna Capri, it was beautiful, and a bit chilly as morning approached. My tent, a Marmot Limelight 2P, is more of a summer tent, lots of mesh, lots of mesh for the Patagonia winds to blow through. I was a tad bit chilly in the morning, but regardless, enjoyed a great breakfast of bread and peanut butter, and instant coffee. I then took off down the trail towards Poincenot campground, the winds were still blowing, but things began to clear, including Fitz Roy. So, even though I was not really planning on another time-lapse shoot (I had no ropes to anchor the tripod), I set up along the trail anyway, and began another 2+ hour time-lapse sequence. I set the camera on Aperture priority and  the interval at 5 sec, and I think I programmed the camera to shoot for 2.5 hours (or so), and stood there, trying to protect the camera and tripod from the wind, chatted with hikers as they passed. It was cold, but the shoot worked out ok. It looked like a much better day to climb Fitz Roy, as long as the wind did not blow you off the rock face on your way to the top.

Cerro Fitz Roy, or Cerro Chalten, named after the captain of the HMS Beagle made famous by Charles Darwin, was first climbed by two French alpinists in 1952. At 3,405 m (11,171 ft), Fitz Roy is not a high mountain, but it is technically difficult to climb, and the wind and weather can be horrific. The mountain was first climbed by Americans Yvon Chouinard and his three friends, Dick Dorworth, Chris Jones and Doug Tompkins in 1968. They made a film of their ascent, 'Mountain of Storms' (1968), filmed by Lito Tejade-Flores. Then in 2014, between the 12th and 16th of February, Tommy Caldwell and Alex Honnold completed the first ascent of the 'Fitz Traverse', climbing across the ridge line of Cerro Fitz Roy and a number of other peaks. They also produced a film, 'A Line Across the Sky' (2015, a Reel Rock 10 film, from Sender Films and Big Up Productions). Both short films are amazing to watch, as Fitz Roy is an impressive hunk of granite, and with the typically unpredictable weather in Patagonia, it is a real accomplishment to summit this peak.

Shooting time-lapse footage is a great way to show the dynamic nature of things, and especially life in the mountains. The time-lapse footage below of the Fitz Roy massif was shot in late afternoon, across Laguna Capri, not far from my campsite in Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. The sequence was shot with my Nikon D610, my first attempt at shooting a time-lapse sequence. This footage was shot with the Auto exposure setting, and a shooting interval of 5 sec, for 1 hr and 25 mins (I think). The camera automatically compiles all the hundreds of images into a video, interesting stuff. When you look at video like this, you almost wonder why anyone would want to climb this mountain, it must get just nuts near the top, with near vertical granite walls, incredible winds, clouds, rain, snow and ice.

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