Falling Into Chile

Photographs are notorious for failing to show gradients properly and the steepness of roads is usually hidden. A case in point:

As we rolled downhill we both came to the conclusion these uphills  could be hard to negotiate in an RV or a heavily loaded van like GANNET2. 

Partly it’s the gradient which was steeper than it looks, on dirt and at 15,000 feet where the engine loses a lot of power. 

We were glad we had come up the Argentine side and only had to go downhill here. 

Michaelangel caught up to us here coming slowly down the hill. 

Where I stopped to take some pictures. 

We followed him down. 

And down, a long way down. 

A nice bit of washboard on the way to make GANNET2 tremble a bit. 

And a sudden burst of wind throwing a dust storm in our face. 

I had to stop for a few minutes to let it subside. 

And then like that it was gone. 

Oh look, a new member of team lost. Michelangel took the upper road but I stopped because I was pretty sure we needed to descend. Eventually he agreed and in fact turned around and cane back. I saw a diversion sign in the valley and I think this side road was a zig zag road for uphill traffic to avoid the excessively steep parts we were driving down. 

He stopped to say goodbye as he had to get to the police post to report a motorcyclist he had met earlier on who had two flat tires and was stuck by the side of the road somewhere back in Argentina. 

We were below 13,000 feet here and it got a bit more comfortable. 

A temporary summer pen with some goats and sheep sheltering in it.  

Slim pickings on their summer vacation at high altitude. 

The Chileans paint mile markers every few hundred feet. 

The sun was heading to the horizon as we slowly descended. We planned to sleep around 10,300 feet where oxygen levels should be comfortable. 

The lake was our goal for the night. 10,300 feet with several spots marked to fiend the night. We were about five miles from pavement and twenty five miles from Chilean customs. And boy, were we tired. 

It was windy of course. 

If you think about altitude too much it will drive you nuts. At this point we were higher up than Leadville Colorado which is the highest town in the US and we’ve camped around there in the national forests. Yet here we were glad to be this low for the night. 

Done!  

There was a grader parked just off the road and we pulled up next to it. It wasn’t the greatest campsite but it was easily accessible and there would be no traffic at night and the sheep pen at the head of the valley was unoccupied. Good enough for two tired travelers and one energetic  dog. 

Michaelangel somehow only caught up to us here and waved as he rode by.  I got a message later he made it home in good order.

Layne sorted out  our to go foods from the Argentine restaurant which we brought to reheat for an easy dinner while I pulled out our window covers.

Window covers: check.

They are an insulated set from a company called Nightfall and they make all the difference. The interior becomes a cave but we hear no noise and feel neither cold nor heat inside. 

In the morning ing water puddles were frozen but after we ran the engine for twenty minutes we had enough heat to see us comfortably into bed. 



I added some air to the tires as pavement started in half a mile. I double checked the pressure in the morning to make it was right. 

His tireless majesty wanted a walk. 

His wish was my command. 

But I did not walk all the way to the water with him to enjoy the birds.
Argentines must have come this way as there is a fire ring to grill their meat. 

We were tired but we had so much coca the in our system we neither of us slept very well. “Are you awake? Me too,” all night was the chorus over the basso profundo snores of a dog, exhausted at last.