Argentina - 10 March 2001

Enric has been singing the sunshine song in Catalan, the one that goes:

"Sol, solet, Vine'm a veure, vine'm a veure,

Sol solet, Vine'm a veure que tinc fred"

And the sun has been following us, just like the German Shepard, Olaf, a resident of the town of El Calafate. Olaf decided to follow Enric to restaurants and then wait for him, to accompany Enric across town, making sure at each road crossing that Enric was still with him. He waited for Enric outside of our Hospedaje (pension), and escorted him to and from the mechanic shop across town. Does Enric resemble Olaf's master, or does the sunshine song attract dogs too? Enric says that he broke up a fight between Olaf and some other dogs and for that he earned Olaf's loyalty.

It has rained on and off these days, though this has not impeded the ride. Each night, we encounter northbound travelers who share horror stories about the national parks we plan to visit: whipping winds forced a robust German to cling to a tree and lose his hat, an English girl spent 10 days trekking around the entirety of Torres Del Paine National Park and never got a view of the peaks, and our friend Juan (who we were to meet prior to our 2 week delay) claimed that rain cold and wet followed him too. He said that going out of a refuge was like doing free fall, the wind could take you anywhere and you would not know where was up or down.

With this news, we had few expectations of great hikes and treks. But by the time we arrived at Glacier National Park we had been on the road for 10 continuous days and decided that we could use a rest and so could the motorcycle. We scoured the rainy town of El Calafate for the lowest price Glacier tour, and scored 2 points - one for price and the other for weather. This town is even more expensive than Buenos Aires, and almost as expensive as San Francisco! But the rain of the last 10 days ceased the morning of our tour.

Classical music was blaring in the bus and the tour guide had us close our eyes as we crested the hill that descended down to the glacier Perito Moreno. The "tongue" of ice literally oozes through a sharply cut valley in the Andes. Glacier National Park is full of some of the world's largest glaciers, and Perito Moreno is one of the few world's glacier that is not regressing. We kept pinching ourselves with the joy that it was not raining and that we could watch this glacier from above, below, and from a boat. We watched giant shards of ice, 20 stories tall, crash into the water. Imagine a huge earthquake, where tons of buildings fall, and then turn the image to ice. The glacier looks like a bed of frozen gnomes or trolls, one stuck next to each other in their pointy hats - an army of giants frozen to the mountains. And it is not just white, but blue, and darker blue and neon blue. Some pieces look like sponges, others like daggers, and when a piece of ice decides to break away, it sounds like the clouds are crashing against each other, and the storm to end all storms is here.

What luck!

Back in town, we pass the local car wash where they were scrubbing down a convoy of mud drenched cars driving north from Torres del Paine National Park. We both stopped at the sight…

Kelly's worry: "If these cars look that muddy, then I am going to look that muddy?????!!!!"

Enric's worry: "If these cars look that muddy, then we are going to get stuck and fall over." I began singing the sunshine song again.

Torres del Paine is in Chile….. so is the story!

We zigzag back and forth across the Argentine/Chilean border, and I don´t know which page to use for each story.

Road conditions change as quickly as the weather in the South. Some forces beyond our comprehension blew luck with the wind in our direction the other day. While we waited at the Argentine border, Enric readjusted the bags on the bike. The shifted around while we drove over rough gravel road in Chile. At the border, roads change from rough loose rock, to "smooth" gravel. "What can you expect from the Chilenos?" says the Argentine customs official. As we drive on, the wind picks up and the road changes from gravel to pavement to dirt and back again. I look behind me and see that the backpack and 2 canteens are missing. I probably should have been checking the bags more often. It has been 50 km since we stopped at the Argentine border.

When Enric pulls over, we are both shouting our frustrations. We head back towards the border to look for the bag. Dirt, pavement, gravel all over again. There is no way we are going to find it. After 10 km, we decide to forget it and we return to our original direction. 2 minutes later, we are both struck with that pang in our stomach for not trying our best to find the bag. Once again, we turn around while Enric says: "we are not going to find it, but we can not leave without trying!!!"

A few minutes later, SOMETHING possesses Enric, and he decides to ask a passing car if they have seen a bag in the road. His magic eyes select the closest car - a blue pickup with two of the road construction workers. The driver rolls down the window. "Excuse me, have you seen… -" Enric begins. "A backpack?" finishes the man in the truck. We sit there with our mouths hanging open as he fishes our backpack and canteens out of the back of his truck.

Logic can not explain the chance encounter with the exact truck that had retrieved our bag. That night, Enric won $50 playing blackjack in the casino in San Martin de los Andes. Perhaps the horseshoe I found in the Aconcagua brought us luck. I was storing it in the backpack. Perhaps it was something else.

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We plan to meet a few friends on the trip, but we are already making many friends en route. While sitting in a cafe in San Martin de los Andes, Andres approaches us. Enric had pointed out his Africa Twin to me the night before, and he spotted us first thing in the morning. We decide to ride the Route of the 7 Lakes together. It is great to ride with someone who wants to stop and take pictures as often as we do. Somewhere after the 3rd lake, we lost track of each other and Enric and I ended up finishing the 7 lakes, looking for Andres en route, and assuming he took a faster road to the town ahead. We were disappointed to have lost him, but figured that this is what happens on the road.

The next morning, after returning from a 25 km bike ride (the non-motorized variety) the boy in the bicycle rental offices says, "A man on a black Honda stopped by and told me to tell you that you are invited to carne Asada at his house." Was it our friend Andres? Who can turn down a free lunch? We let our agenda slide out a few hours in order to pursue the mysterious invitation. The black motorcycle belongs to Taco. He is passing his vacation with family and friends in the lakeside cabin/vast property of his wife´s family. He had just happened to see our motorcycle parked outside the bike rental office and stopped in to leave an invitation. "We met your friend Andres," he tells us. "Do you know this Chilean with an African Twin?" They had run into him the night before at a local bar, and he said that he had been riding around with us the day before. We don't think we will run into him again, but we enjoyed a fantastic Asada under the trees with a view of the lake, joking with the Argentines.

Just a cultural note, and something that has impressed me on this trip - Beef. Well, meat in general in Chile and Argentina. It just is not like in the U.S. with our T-bone steaks, filet mignons and ribs. This shows how vast my meat knowledge is. Cows here are happy animals strolling in lush green hillsides. The animals sincerely LOOK happy. And not being much of a meat eater, have concluded that happy cows make for wonderful meals. Argentine "Asadas" or "Parrilladas" are feasts beef, pork, chorizos (sausage) - every cut you have never before imagined, and roasted over wood or coals for many hours. Pigs, sheep, goats, llamas feast on the grassy like Scotland hillsides that we have been crossing by motorcycle. What more can I say. Plus, the Argentines and Chileans produce great wine…. Bon appetit!