Perito Moreno

I admit: it was a long dreary drive to the town of Perito Moreno from our wild camp outside Gobernador Gregores. It was only a hundred miles but it did not go well. 

Ruta 40 has a reputation for being a tough drive up the western side of Argentina. I had thought pavement had defanged this road but boy, was I wrong. Most of it is paved but a hundred mile drive beat me into the ground.  Sleep, tired nature’s sweet restorer as the bard put it; I needed lots of sleep when we got to the town of Perito Moreno Thursday night. 

We dawdled horribly in our wild camp south of Las Horquetas (the pitchforks) enjoying the sunshine and the protection we got from the wind. We exercised and enjoyed Starlink. We had lunch and finally pulled out at three in the afternoon. Of course the fact that it gets dark at ten meant we had plenty of daylight to drive by… 

We drove along the Rio Chico (small river) in a valley watered into swamp status. It was a pleasant drive on a well paved highway. We could be in Perito Moreno comfortably by 5 pm.  

That was until we had a patch of gravel. We groaned…not again. It’s absurd how abandoned this highway is even today, as it’s the only artery down this side of the country.  

The road became a patchwork quilt of crappy pavement and stretches of gravel that appeared without warning. Even where I was tempted I couldn’t go fifty miles an hour for fear of hitting a pothole (bache - baa-chay) or dropping off pavement into gravel.  

Cats were slaloming or driving the shoulders to avoid the black spots that were deep dangerous potholes. You couldn’t drop your attention for a second. 

Even the holes half heartedly filed in were showing signs of wear and caused GANNET2 to bounce horribly.  

There were ripples and dents and holes and patches for miles.  

The scenery picked up with desert vistas and mountain ranges but I was ready to arrive.  

We cave finally on the approximate half way mark the villages of the bizarrely named Bajo Caracoles (under snails). This weird name comes from prehistoric snail fossils found in the area. In the early 20th century this place was built to be what it is today: a roadside stop in the desert of western Patagonia. 

There is a small hotel and restaurant with hot showers and WiFi for travelers but not much in the eating empanadas or food to go Layne found.  34 people live here with a school and police station prominent alongside the hotel and fuel pumps. 

I can’t imagine living here. 

We wanted to continue north but it’s marked as RV stop for those that want to be in the company of others.  

We had thought about checking out some caves with prehistoric paintings but the road was terrible, :0 miles of washboard to get there and we weren’t in the mood to take on any more difficult roads. Highway 40 was bad enough. 

There is a national park around here (no dogs) offering hikes in multi colored canyons and we got to see some of the colors from the highway.

And finally Perito Moreno, an oasis. 5,000 inhabitants live in the town founded in 1910 and which has been through three nave changes which I find bizarre. Nacimento gave way to Lake Buenos Aires in 1944 after the nearby body of water but in 1952 it was named for a national hero.

He has a glacier and a national park named after him and you’d think that would be enough but he got this town as well.

They say Perito Moreno is a center of ranching and fruit and vegetable growing and has a cold high desert climate. I have heard it has a decent laundry and supermarket and a low cost municipal campground. 

On brief acquaintance it looks pretty enough in this odd modern style of a town with no central attraction. 

We shall have to do a bit of vehicular  exploring as we do our chores. 

We paid seven bucks for a night in the quite crowded campground. 

Rusty got to walk on grass. We ate and slept hoping to forget the struggle to get here. Laundry, showers, shopping and getting ready to re-enter Chile 45 miles to the east, probably on Sunday. 

A break from Argentina for a while and I’ll enjoy that.