A short mustachioed fellow approached me and called out my name. It was the lodge driver, J.C. He pointed to a vehicle and indicated we had a lot of driving to do," Mucho kilometers". The next thing I knew we were heading east towards Argentina on route 215 in a Mitsubishi with a windshield cracked in a spider web pattern. My dog was sitting up like a soldier at attention in the back seat. Several kilometers later she began to wobble and it looked like she was going to faint. I spotted a little creek next to the road and alerted J.C. We stopped and she waded in the cool water. I hung on to her as the current was powerful. It revived her. Ten minutes later we were back in the vehicle. I kept checking my dog. No more wobbly!
We pushed onward. Mucho kilometers!
We were climbing as we headed east. I spotted the King of the South: The Osorno volcano which is still active. It was gigantic and a perfect conical shape with snow on its peak. It looked like Mount Fuji. I had never seen anything quite like it. During my journey through Patagonia I would see other volcanoes but none this large. It truly is the, "King".
We pushed onward and kept climbing. Mucho kilometers!
The border crossing into Argentina was a breeze. I showed my passport and other documents. J.C. did all the talking. He briefly joked with the guard. I didn't understand a thing. We were waved through. Southeast we travelled now on route 231. We stopped for an ice cream in a pretty tourist town called Villa La Angostura which reminded me of many of the small towns in the Laurentian mountains just north of Montreal. I purchased a map there and oriented myself. My dog gobbled up part of the ice cream cone. No wobbly! Things were looking up. Shortly, we entered Nahuel Huapi National Park, the first National Park of Argentina. It is their Banff or Yellowstone. We followed a very large and deep looking beautiful lake aptly called Lago Nahuel Huapi. We drove along it for hours.
We pushed onward. Mucho kilometers!
Eventually we dropped out of the Andes mountains and forests down into the open Argentine foothills. Near the eastern end of Lago Nahuel Huapi I spotted the large town of San Carlos de Bariloche across the lake. It had a lot of modern architecture and many multi-level buildings. We drove around the eastern end of the lake, crossing the Rio Limay, and came closer to Bariloche. People were sunning on a sandy beach. Then we turned onto route 40 and headed south to Esquel.
Mucho kilometers!
There was less development south of Bariloche. We crossed rolling terrain and several streams which looked like they could contain trout. Many hours later we passed through Esquel a large town sitting in the arid, barren steppes within striking distance of another famous Argentine National Park, Los Alceres. Then westward on to the Welsh village of Trevelin that has an Anglo heritage. We stopped briefly then pushed for the Chilean border. We followed the Rio Grande for some distance. The same river is called the Futaleufu in Chile. For the next four months I would spend most of my time rafting this river. We had another smooth border crossing after showing identification.
Mucho kilometers!
Around suppertime the Mitsubishi came to rest at Jim's place. We had arrived in a quaint village tucked in a valley on the eastern side of the Andes. All the homes were wooden, many quite aged and crooked. I spotted horsemen on the streets and an Ox drawn cart with automobile tires. There we cars around. Some had no mufflers and spewed blue smoke. I felt I had gone back in time. I then realised I had been up for 36 hours straight. The soldier in the back seat was no longer standing at attention but instead was curled up in a ball and dreaming. We were in Futaleufu.
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