Our final (and pre dawn) departure from Santiago, towards the town of Los Andes to the north and at the entrance of the road over the mountains. The Andes are never a single range but band after band of mountains on the bulging crest that is the plate boundary. They are narrower in the Santiago region, comprising fewer ranges and with a prominent valley exiting the Argentinian side such that you only have to cross a single high point. From a map it wasn't hard to see where the crossing would have to go, across the only feasible line from east to west.
We turned into the mountains following and climbing a narrow winding valley, with rough, steep walled mountains on both side and a decent tumbling river. It reminded me somewhat of the Kauwara Gorge approaching Queenstown, but with everything on a greater scale in terms of altitude and mountain height. Maybe its like driving in a dinky car; thats not a bad description of how it sometimes felt.
The road was two lanes with no passing bays, and plenty of slow grinding trucks, like a supply route into Mordor. We stopped on occasion but otherwise it was a winding climb, in convoy, through grey rock faces and occasional views of much higher peaks. The peaks were frosted with snow rather than deep snow fields, possibly reflecting their relative dryness or the high winds they experience.
Climbing higher the temperatures were dropping sharply and a patina of frozen snow and ice began to lace surfaces, with ridges and peaks also more visible. We knew we were in alpine country when we passed through the first avalanche protection; a long cement bunker with covered roof so that avalanche debris would cross above the road.
The drive from Los Andes had not seemed that long, maybe an hour or two, and we were already close to the border. The road was now markedly steeper like a ski field access road and ahead of us a very steep high wall had vehicles moving in tight zigzags, in at least 16 hairpin bends. Traffic stopped a couple of times as we approached, while bottle necks sorted themselves out. Then it was our turn to climb this magnificent section of road, with the views opening up as we climbed. At the top a long tunnel, more avalanche covers and we were on the pass. Above us we could see remnants of an earlier road which took vehicles to a higher pass than the one we were on now, which had been made redundant by the building of tunnels. The old roadways and zig zags added what looked like another 2,000 ft on the pass and looked very undesirable. We were told that a new tunnel is under construction to further lower the pass and improve all-weather access across the roadway. Too bad I thought, standing at probably near 10,000 feet and admiring the bleak rugged mountains still towering above us.
The drive down to Argentina couldn't have been more different. The valley immediately broadened
and the mountains became drier and more weathered and colourful, with the reds, yellows and ochres of a more eroded landscape. The Chilean side had been the steep, active, raw face of the Andes fault system, with the Argentinian side broader, drier and more weathered into smooth forms. But first we had to pass through officialdom which involved three stops, the first two being customs and police inspection related, the third immigration and passport related. The latter was a large covered building, a drive through, with immigration booths like Kentucky Fried Chicken drive throughs. Sitting in each booth was a Chilean staff member, and right beside them their Argentinian equivalent. The passport went to customs officer A who stared at it for a while then at you as customs officials do, before handing it to B, the other country equivalent right beside them, who also looked long at it, you and finally stamped it. Both sets of officials were in their respective country uniforms. Quite comical I thought, especially when on other occasions you hear what Chileans actually think of Argentinians and vice versa. Apparently this immigrations post can take hours to clear when multiple buses etc come through, but we were in luck with timing and were gone in minutes. Our two customs agents were lovely girls. I thought what a place to work, probably at about 9,000 feet, sub zero temperature, in a huge tin building with neon lights and heavy traffic grinding through, or parking with idling motors. Yuk.
Anyway back out into the sunlight and into some of the most wonderful country we have every experienced. A remarkable transformation in landscape, into wide open valleys and soaring ridges, dry and desert like. Colourful rocks and sediments, red in particular, suffused the landscape in warm colour. Some glorious high scree slopes, thousands of feet worth, arching ridges and high peaks behind. Again we had to remind ourselves that we were still at 8 or 9 thousand feet and in the vicinity of 18-20,000 peaks, in fact very close to the highest mountain outside the Himalayas, at 22,000 ft.
An exceptionally grand, wild, otherworldly, lonely landscape - very moving experience to just be there. Largely uninhabited, with just the occasional few buildings. Likewise the traffic had thinned out on the very open roads, and did not detract.
While its a longer drive on the Argentine side the road is open and good driving. We arrived at the edge of the main mountains and into the small town of Uspallata, for the night. In one direction the snow capped Andes, and to the east desert country wrinkled with low hills. The town itself is still at 6,000 feet and the hills are deceptive, adding 3,000 feet in places. We had a couple of evening hours before dark and drove into the barren desert landscape with huge views in every direction. Following a winding road into the hills we were soon back above freezing level although being so dry there wasn't much evidence except the occasional frozen shaded bank or water hole. We found Guanaco, a llama like grazer very reminiscent of seeing red deer in NZ tussock grassland, but also a bizarre XOS rabbit like animal with long fluffy tail. Overhead the occasional eagle glided, with a few smaller bird species making a living in the harsh environment. Large globular cacti were dotted through the scrub, a strange addition to an otherwise alpine environment, with the difference being its not just alpine but also a desert.
We stopped and photographed in the chill winds, trying to capture the landscape and its vast feel, but only a 360 deg video has any hope and I'm not sure if we got any of it.
The evening we went to a restaurant in Uspallata, looking somewhat like a derelict Milk Bar cum Diner from Happy Days. There we signed up for the house special, a Bife Chorizo. Not knowing what that was i though ok might have some Chorizo sausages and maybe beans (?) , but no it was a char grilled sirloin steak of exceptional size. Im guessing 600 grams. It was cooked medium rare to perfection, on an open fire and served with a dried herbs, chilly and olive olive concoction that we subsequently encountered everywhere. It was incredible, although shanti couldn't eat it all and had to hand over (a rubic cube sized) sample for me to help her with. 'Welcome to Argentina, have a nice day!'
The Uspallata hotel was a grand old but faded mansion. We finished an extremely long but incredible day in a cavernous bedroom with worn fittings, useless plumbing and french doors onto a first floor balcony overlooking the garden.
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