Paso San Francisco

We took two days to cross Paso San Francisco the third border crossing between Argentina and Chile from the north, coming south. It was the third highest of the passes at 15,505 feet officially. Konstantin doesn’t do well at altitude but Layne and I were feeling fine, breathless but no headaches.

This border is only open on Tuesday and Fridays and Rusty’s exit permit had to be used by Thursday so we had to cross on the Tuesday opening. We started out from Fiambalá late Monday morning to be ready. The crossing is 300 miles long with no fuel on the way. We should be fine but we loaded ten extra gallons to be less stressed. 

Konstantin gave us the jugs after he was denied entry to Bolivia where fuel is not easily available. The dog below belongs to the gas station in Fiambalá. The sign says enjoy and relax. I’m forced to believe the dog can read. 

I like to waste our substance giving dog food away to hungry locals so we stopped at the supermarket named for a sea mammal, here, so far from the ocean. 

Rusty picked up some hints from the gas station dog. 

Just be warned: Paso San Francisco is all desert, all the time. And for us the good news was the road, Highway 60 in Argentina was all pavement 120 miles to the border. Highway 31 in Chile was another story. 

Did I mention there is a hotel and restaurant an hour out of Fiambalá? No gas stations but food, that’s a different story. 

This Argentine couple wanted to know our story and they gave us some useful tips about places to see in the region which we will use next year. It was a good chat, and they uplifted us. Too many Argentines are too shy to talk to foreigners. 

The funny looking pottery pot closest to me is the house specialty which they call “pastel de papas” which turned out to be shepherds pie and we liked it.  

The steak was tender and as good as beef’s reputation in Argentina. 

There is something startling about finding a fully functional hotel and restaurant (with vegetarian choices in meat centric Argentina) a full bar and excellent service lost in the middle of this Martian landscape. 

I’d come back and I think we both might have enjoyed staying overnight in this unique environment. 

The views are what you might expect. 

In the van we had those two jugs filled with regular gas and wrapped but not enough to eliminate all the smell. We both wanted them gone. 

Our overnight stop was ten miles further up the road, about 90 minutes from the Argentine border post. The WiFi at this refuge wasn’t working. Too bad. 

The refuges are basic but a couple of hikers in a pick up stopped by before dark and spent the night. 

We parked next to the hut to try yo get out of the wind but the wind backed and my attempt at cover failed. On the plus side I did empty one of the jugs into the tank. It was hellishly difficult in the wind but I got it done. One down. 

The wind rocked us to sleep. At 11,300 feet with temperatures near freezing it was a disturbed night but morning came eventually. Tuesday was the day to cross the pass.