March 23, 2014 - Sunday. Calafate, Argentina

MARCH 23, 2014  Sunday -  El Calafate, Argentina

BOTTOM LINE:
Left Chile and drove back to El Calafate, Argentina

BACK STORY:
Waking up and looking outside, we found a wonderful sunrise casting a warm yellow/ orange glow on the mountains that have been a backdrop to our hotel.  We had never fully seen the mountain tops, as each day they were in a shroud of clouds and rain.  Our luck, the day we were to leave was clear and sunny.  We were happy for the tourists we had left behind as we ventured back to Calafate on a 300 mile road trip.

morning light hitting the mountain

As we loaded the car the smell of a campfire was in the crisp air. All water and air heating used at the resort depended on a wood fire 24/7 to bring things to the desired temperature.  A horse and cart delivered split wood to the underground bunker where the fire burned.

heating by wood fire under ground

method of transporting firewood

Colorful jackets and backpacks, lined in hiking formation disappeared up the many mountain trails that fed from the hotel.  There were hikes for every distance and ability level.  Equestrians were busy at the corral getting fit with gear and horses for their morning ride along the river or into the mountains...again depending on ability.  The resort was buzzing with activity that was stimulated by the dawn of a clear and dry day. Hopes were high...smiles of anticipation of the faces of the curious and nature minded.

We were on the road by 9:30am knowing that it would be a long day as I wanted to stop for pictures and views along the way.  As we climbed out of the valley we began to see the Torres Del Paines spires emerge one at a time...beauty, splendor, all for us to enjoy as we said our good-byes.

Torres del Paines in full view

Leaving Torres del Paines in the background

Last view of where we had come from

There were numbers of tour buses and vans pulling luggage trailers that were making their way into the resorts yet very few vehicles headed in our direction.  It explained why is was so quiet at the hotel last night...it was fairly empty of people!

Crossing the river we said our thank you's for the newer metal bridge.  The older wooden bridge with a wooden road-bed and railings looked mighty rickety to have been used, especially on an icy morning.

bridge crossing

The hills were filled with grazing guanaco.  The adults looked over six feet tall and moved with an elegant cadence as their fine fleece fluttered in the wind.  As we rounded a corner I spotted a mother stopping to feed her baby. An adult sat on the top of a hill appearing to guard the others.  It was likely that a dead guanaco that we spotted in a pasture had been taken down by a puma the night before.

Guanaca enjoying a clear morning view

Crossing the border went without incident.  We had the routine down.  While the customs officer had a break I got to have a couple of questions answered. One had to do with these curious miniature houses along roadsides that were draped in red fabric and filled with statues, pictures and crosses. He explained that they were for angels of the road...for those killed on the road or for those traveling and in need of safety.

The second had to do with the definition of the word, Aiken.  It refers to historical people...not certain what that refers too!

As we dropped down to the "Steppe" or prairie-land filled with poor soil and scrubby low growing plants we spotted an anxious fox running into a ditch with something in its mouth...no doubt a much desired meal as he plopped down to eat when he thought we could not see.  He was a "Patagonia Fox" larger with red highlights unlike the smaller grey fox.

Although the prairie seems to be a vast waste land I began looking for the beauty...believing that everything is created with a purpose and an individual beauty.  What I found were colors, shades, hues and textures, all elaborately adding interest to the prairie.

Monet like wild flowers growing beautifully in harsh conditions

I also began to look at clouds dancing in the blue sky, their forms and shades played games with my imagination. I found a huge lens cloud similar to the one that seems to hover over Mt Hood near Portland, Oregon. It's concave center made it look like one of the many berets that I have seen local men wear in Argentina.

The thoughts helped pass the time driving since there were no audible stations on the car radio...just hissing like the sounds of insects outside the car.

Suddenly there was an all too familiar sound of a "flop, flop" outside. I gently pulled the car to a stop while Bruce hopped out saying, "shoot, we have a flat."  I handed him the key to start taking the luggage out of the trunk. Tying my hair back and putting on another layer, I joined in to help.

It was about 46 degrees with a bone chilling wind whipping around all sides of the car.  I pulled the spare out and the jack as Bruce began stabilizing the car.  We were a team and were back in the car with the tire changed in 20 minutes time. Getting out of the cold air was the primary incentive!

Thankfully we were 20 miles outside of Esperanza...the wide spot on Hwy 40 where we filled up with gas on our travels into Torres Del Paines. When we drove up, we realized that the gas station was simply a gas station. Thankfully the attendant motioned across the road to a tire repair business.

We entered to road which was strewn with wire, nuts and bolts and pieces of tire rubber.  Antonio came out and rambled something fast in Spanish. He was quite the guy that knew his business. His clothes were smeared with axial grease and grime as were his hands and arms. We showed him the tire and he again rambled off something in Spanish as he carried it into his little shop. Forty minutes later he had patched and re-inflated the tire. The rim was bent and the tire creased as though there was a slow leak from a puncture in the sidewall.  Not sure where the hole came from, but the tire could not be used again.

Antonio asked for $10 for his time (we paid more) and we were back on Hwy 40 with nearly 100 miles to Calafate.  We arrived without further incident and were welcomed back to our hotel...not needing to fill out forms again.  We were given a welcome drink and the same room as we had for four previous nights. De ja vue!

I headed to the spa to see if there might be a spot in the schedule for a much needed massage. Christian was available right then and asked me, "where do you have stress?"  I answered all over.

An hour later I emerged as a new woman! Christian asked where I was from and when I answered, "California" he was quick and excited to tell me that his massage instructor had taught her method in  Big Sur at Escalon on the California coast!  Small world!