Butch And Sundance And Me

Google Maps said it was  thirty minutes away so what would you do?

So we drove there of course though because we are Team Lost we did overshoot the final approach a little. Not surprising really when you do finally notice the entrance sign.

200 meters, leave the gate closed, thanks. And we never saw a human being while we checked the place out. Pretty cool eh? Maybe not but I enjoy this stuff. Layne likes stopping at roadside stands and shopping and luckily we got to do that after we left the campground. It was a pretty spot with hot showers if you got in early  I got into the shower late in the evening and it was ice cold but luckily the climate is mild here and I was desperate to feel clean. 

I have to say this part of the world is pretty astonishing to look at.  

Here we were at a modest rural campground and all around us were these massive peaks that keep reminding me of a place like Colorado except taller and more vast. 

Three dogs is two too many for my old grump. The two campground dogs were lovely but Rusty barely tolerated them. His jealousy is rather touching I find after all these years. 

Back to Highway 40 south. 

In the wilderness we came across a small village, a tourism office (closed). Oh and a shop.  

For Layne these places are like catnip to a kitty. I hesitate to go in because I will spend far too much on stuff we don’t desperately need. 

We came away with a couple of cheeses and fresh bread and a box of weird salami flavored crackers. Never seen that before. 

I got chatting to the young woman behind the counter. I asked if she was Ve exiles and she looked shocked. In my defense I pointed out she didn’t have the statutory cup of Yerba Maté at her elbow. She laughed and said her boss was bringing the gear to make the national drink of Argentina. I confessed I don’t much like the stuff which to me tastes of wood. She said maté is good for the digestion and I should get the habit. Not convinced. 

And on we went. Making stops is part of the fun of being retired and having time. But now back to history. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid landed with Etta Place in Buenos Aires in 1901. A robbery in Montana had netted them$65,000 and they were ready to settle down. Here:

Harry Longabaugh, the Sundance Kid came here with Etta Place (below) and Robert Parker, known as Butch Cassidy after the Pinkerton Agency made life too hot for them in the US. 

We crossed paths with Robert LeRoy Parker at the Wyoming Territorial Jail Museum in Laramie before we came south and this was his mugshot:

You may not know this but up until they died in a siege in Bolivia (on my destination wishlist) these outlaws never shot anyone. They carried out successful robberies and annoyed rich businesspeople who owned banks and railroads. They tried to seek pardons but that wasn’t going to work so they came south to this cabin and 12,000 acres of ranch land. 

Lots of people were emigrating to Argentina at the time and land dealers were ready to find property for rich emigres to ranch. For four years they lived here in the foothills of the Andes not far from the Chilean border in the mountains. 

These are their actual cabins 120 years later which I have to say filled me with awe. Longabaugh was a social guy and made friends with locals in this sparsely populated region. Parker apparently kept more to himself but they were well liked.  

The story goes Pinkerton’s lost track of them but a series of robberies took place in the area in the style of the Wild Bunch drawing attention ton to the ranching gringos. 

I imagine it was quite possible ranching in this lovely place got boring for people used to robbery excitement. Eventually they sold their land to a neighbor and hiked off to Chile. The meet north to Bolivia to try their hand at mining but robbing mine payrolls was easier they found and managed to annoy influential people who set the army on them. 

They died in a siege when they got sloppy and tired and got caught. It’s believed one of them was injured in the firefight. The other finished him and then committed suicide. And that was that. 

Etta Place vanished possibly to a good marriage in Paraguay or maybe New York. Make your own guess. 

And these crumbling ruins abide, no fee no supervision and not much interest. 

We closed the gates behind us and I got stung by a wasp. 

I can’t explain the fascination but I admit I am fascinated. 

I had the same feelings when I saw the spot where Bonnie and Clyde were ambushed in Louisiana and where Pancho Villa was ambushed in Parral and so forth.

I wanted to come here when we were in Laramie in the summer of 2023. The old prison is a museum worth a visit if you are in the area. 

I don’t know if this is worth a visit but I liked being here by ourselves, free to wander. 

I stuck my camera through a window and got stung for my trouble. 

“Don’t scratch the cabins” in reference I think to graffiti. No trash no marks no nothing. 

Not a place to live in winter in my opinion. 

A long way from anywhere. 

We stopped in Esquel, a surprisingly busy little town with a modern well equipped Goodyear tire shop. They rotated our tires for six bucks but couldn’t change the oil but they did have our weird grade of oil so I bought six quarts. We need an oil change in about 600 miles and as we have an oil filter we are ready when we find a suitable shop. 

The town was shutting down for the weekend and we pressed on for another hour to the village of Tecka where they have a ten bucks a night campground. Rusty approved. 

We arrived at six pm on Friday and said Hi to the youngsters and their motorcycles and tents as they grilled their dinner Argentine style. 

We had sausages and relaxed with another drive planned for Saturday across the middle of Argentina. Our route from Epuyén with a detour to the cabin and then south to Esquel for the rotation and then to our campground: 

Bariloche

Highway 40 down the Andes runs through several national parks north of Bariloche. 

You can see why this area is a national park. The views are fabulous. 

Villa La Angostura, another pretty little alpine town. We had to drop off a couple of young hitchhikers half way through their camping vacation. 

He’s a circus performed trained at the University in Buenos Aires -that’s what he said - and got a job in Santiago in Chile where he has a better chance to earn a living. Trouble is his aging parents want him home to help with their honey farm. A familiar dilemma. 

On we went. 

From there we pressed on to Bariloche, a town that has fascinated me for years from a distance. And that unfortunately is not a good thing as reality is often a let down . 

Our first stop was a gas station to try to keep the tank full and here in the outskirts of Bariloche there wasn’t a line, but the filling process took forever. Oh and the hot shower lifted on iOverlander was out of service. She smiled happily and said it will probably be ready in a few hours. Lovely. I started the engine. 

We stopped a little further ahead to try some fried sandwiches and they weren’t bad, where the bread tasted more like focaccia with ham and cheese inside. $2:50 each with a small cup of coffee. 

We had three jobs on our mind. One was to buy car insurance for six countries which iOverlander said you could achieve in an office in town. Then we wanted to change money. Credit cards give us the best rate but lots of places in this messed up economy prefer cash. And finally a shower. There was a hostel which offered four dollar showers and failing the gas station that was our aim.

Asa program I know that sounds naval but it’s the reality of road life when you aren’t on a short term trip. Bariloche is a tourist destination and is full of hotels she restaurants and tours and stuff they even offer a Nazi tour as many of those fine folks found sanctuary  here.
I’m adding a post by my friend Jim who I thought did an admirable job of describing Bariloche on his Facebook page. I told him I was going to use it in no uncertain terms and here it is. 

Where are the Germans?

Bariloche, Argentina was known as the "Little Switzerland" and "Little Bavaria" because this was where the German immigrants settled in the 1850s. But we haven't seen a German (yes, you can tell) nor have we heard anyone speaking German. But they did leave their mark. Some buildings are unmistakable Bavarian architecture. You won't find a schnitzel but their legacy of brewing remains. I haven't had one bad beer.

But the Germans weren't the largest group of European to arrive here. In fact, they rank third or fourth. First place honors go to the Italians. No one is speaking Italian but pizza and pasta joints abound. Yet when it comes to urban legends, leave it to the Argentines to pick on the Germans! Then again, they're easy to pick on given history.

First biggest urban legend: Hitler managed to escape to Bariloche on a German U-boat. Obviously not true. But conspiracy addicts point out two German U-boats arrived here after the war. That's true. The crews opted to surrender here instead of the U.S. or Great Britian because they believed Himmler's disinformation that they'd be sterilized. That didn't happen either.

Second urban legend: Argentina was a hide out for Nazis after the war. And yes! There is truth to that. But was Argentina any different than other countries? Argentina President Juan Peron was no different than his U.S., U.K. and USSR counterparts in wanting to recruit the best scientists and inventors. Truman got von Braun. Peron got Kurt Tank.He ended up building Argentina's first fighter jet. Peron also got Ronald Richter who was going to build a FUSION reactor for Argentina. Turns out Richter was a smart scientist who basically conned Peron to the tune of millions of dollars. He was eventually exposed and later arrested.

Argentina's program to bring Nazi science to South America was eventually taken advantage by unscrupulous Italians and Vatican officials who processed the necessary fraudulent paper that brought real Nazi war criminals like Adolf Eichman, Dr. Josef Mengele, Erich Priebke, and others. With the exception of Mengele, all we arrested and returned to Israel (Eichmann) and Italy (Priebke) to answer for their crimes.

Personally, these urban legends tarnish the history of German immigrants here. And while there are Nazi Walking Tours in Buenos Aires and Bariloche (we took one!) they're useful for shedding light on the truth.

But we didn't come here to look for Nazis or their stolen gold (Eichmann and Priebke were essentially broke); we came to hike! And with the exception of a lot of dust, the trails and scenery are comparable to Bavaria and Switzerland. The only difference is there's no cafe at the top of the mountain for a beer. But you can get one, and tasty too, when you get back to town.

Bariloche is called many things "The welcome mat to Patagonia" is another. That being said, let me give Bariloche my own monicker: the Gatlinburg of Patagonia. It's a tourist town with a hiking problem. That's a good problem to have.

By Jim Brooks. 

There was of course a line to get gas but I was in the happy position of being able to sail on by. 

Our first job getting showers had gone bad so we tried to find parking near the hostel advertised as offering showers. It was close to the insurance agency which might sell us region wide car insurance. Miraculously we found parking a few blocks away by waiting for a car to leave. Parking is tight beyond belief. 

“Keep Faith In God” (entrance).  

The insurance agent turned us foreigners down flat. Strike out right away. Deflated we decided to skip the shower. We skipped to the money changing plan. We found a change shop and I drove by. Layne got out with $400 and a passport and turned up the volume up on my phone and drove off. Alunch deal sandwich for twelve dollars in country whose minimum wage is $100 a week. That would be the equivalent to about $36 in the US on that parameter. 

I drive around stopping in loading zones until I got moved on driving in a large circle. Nothing happens fast in Argentina except for meter maids pouncing on you in Bariloche. 

Eventually she finished and flagged me down at the agreed spot and I did a middle-of-the-street stop and off we went to walk Rusty. What a ridiculous way to do business. 

There must be something energizing in the air because he loves walking when in Patagonia. I like indulging him. 

Weirdly alpine architecture. Bariloche was not what I expected. I’d imagine a small lakeside town filled with wood and stone Bavarian architecture set in thickly pine forested parks. This huge grid set on a steep hill filled with modern bland buildings was a surprise. We both wanted to leave. 

People here are busy and cold to each other and exude the tourism exhaustion you might expect. Not a place I want to visit again.  

Layne had a funny moment while I was gone. She left the side door open while she pottered inside the van. Two cops on patrol pulled up and looked in apparently Erie van had been broken into. They were very polite and friendly but they urged her to close the door as it wasn’t safe to offer temptation to thieves or robbers. Be leery in Bariloche I guess. 

I am actually reassured to have Rusty along. He sits on the front seat when we are gone and I think he may well act as a deterrent.  Leaving Bariloche: 

We hastened away south on Highway 40. Our plan is to go south then turn east on Highway 25 to the Atlantic Coast. 

More national park mountains. Try and imagine  how vast and  spectacular  they are in real life. 

We were driving south to an area of massive forest fires, the fourth summer in a year Argentine Patagonia has burned. We saw smoke in the distance but nothing reached the road. 

Highway 40 was paved but golly, it was rippled and lumpy and torn up and copiously patched enough to be irritating. But the scenery…



We picked up two Argentine women and further along we found three youngsters by the side of the road. They turned out to be French kids on vacation. Europeans love South America. 

90 minutes later we dropped them off in El Bolson and drove on to make lunch and find a campsite. 

Layne heated empanadas and Rusty rooted around. 

We passed through our third Gendarme checkpoint where they actually stopped us and gave my Florida drivers license a cursory check. Is this vehicle rented, he asked for some reason. Rented I replied all indignant. He’ll no it’s paid for in full. He laughed and waved us on. They ask the weirdest questions. 



iOverlander says they are dog friendly and charge $8 for each of us. 

Nice spot but the showers about of water by the time I took mine. Brisk it was. Some friendly Argentines came by and satisfied their curiosity about the strangers in their midst. 

Did you know Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid came to South America in 1901? They bought a ranch half an hour south of here and the buildings are still there they say. Of course they died in Bolivia later and would you believe Bolivia is on our route to Brazil? Coincidence? I think not.