The Road Trip Part 3: Changing Weather

El Chalten was enshrouded by clouds, the mountain that we had seen in so many photographs was not even remotely viewable and we were not even able to guess as to its exact whereabouts. The fact that I could only see from one eye didn't really help my viewing ability either. The day we arrived in El Chalten, we decided to take a little siesta to finally rid ourselves of the previous night's hangover, however when I woke my eyelid was sore and puffy. Within a few hours sore and puffy had become bulbous and bloated, and I couldn't open my right eye. Later, when attempting to read with one eye I found a spider next to my bed and killed the little bastard (who was obviously the guilty party). When popping over to the hostel later for some food, the waitress unwittingly asked what happened to my eye, only to be assailed with a well versed version of the baby and six pumas.

The next day when leaving El Chalten for a long haul drive to Comadore Rivadavia, we left before sunrise, only to be greeted with Mount Fitz Roy itself bathed in a purple and red sky. Slowly the sun rose over the mountain behind us slowly kissing it's majestic peaks, causing wisps of smoke to rise from the mountain as the snow was warmed. In spite of shitty food, spider bites, everywhere being closed and the weather being shit, the 30 minutes of sunrise before parting made it all worth it.

After a long solo effort by Andy, our only two eyed driver at the time, we arrived in Comadore Rivadavia, to find that there was little room at any of the inns. With increasing frustration we began to search less than desirable areas for somewhere to stay, eventually falling upon a rather basic hotel on a street riddled with various creatures of the night. We bedded down and left Vice City promptly. After another long day in the car, our next stop was Esquel, this time hoping to manage to catch the Old Patagonian Express. However, once again we had missed it, and in spite of it already being pitch black, we decided to just smash the last 350km back to Barriloche.

This was not to be so easy. Within 15 minutes of leaving Esquel it began to snow quite heavily, and our pace slowed greatly. For 45 minutes I trudged Seniorita timidly through the raging snowstorm as the weather worsened. Before long the road had become an ice skating rink and every slight turn of the wheel or touch of the brakes took what little control I had of the car. Then after slowly climbing a hill we approached a lorry, or could at least see it's headlights in the blizzard. From first glance it appeared that we had ample room to pass, until it was too late. The lorry had jack-knifed in the road slightly, and by the time I saw it it was too late to stop in time. I turned the wheel to the right, sending the car skidding into a ditch and just narrowly avoiding the lorry itself. Prolific swearing followed. After much messing around we managed to get the car out of the steep ditch and put the snowchains that we had borrowed onto the front tyres. They were the wrong size. More faffing around followed trying to get them off with our freezing hands. We began to discuss whether we should wait out the night's storm in the car, until Andy, who had more experience in these conditions, decided to take the wheel as we slowly crept through the storm. Only one kilometre away from where we had ditched Seniorita, we turned a corner to find no snow and perfectly dry, driveable roads. Such is the changing weather of Patagonia.

We arrived in Barriloche in the early hours of the morning, spending the next few days uploading pictures, sorting out the car (which returned without a scratch), settling our money and saying our goodbyes. The road trip had ended, along with my time in Barriloche. I returned to Buenos Aires to prepare for my journey North.