Box on the Rocks (or Lightning Strikes Twice)

Tuesday, February 10th: The ripio claimed its second victim, this time from none other than Vince himself. Shortly after starting the ripio again after the town of Perito Moreno, history repeated itself as Vince's Box Saloon took what was now a too-familiar nosedive into the unforgiving surface. Another kingpin had come out! Once again, repair had to be done on site, and, as admiring busloads of southbound tourists watched, Vince and Jack proved anything can be done with a little mettle and a handy stone or two. Once the two-hour repair was completed, we drove the rest of the way to Rio Mayo, one day ahead of schedule. It was quickly decided to use that extra day to tend to the care of the cars, especially now that Vince had noted the front spring on his car was severely broken. No dissension was noted from the team, who were now fully aware of the toll the ripio had exacted from the Baby Austins.

Cueva de las Manos

Monday, February 9th: A long, hard drive over even more challenging ripio paid off in big dividends as we reached Cueva de las Manos, a world heritage site located in a spectacular canyon. With a setting reminiscent of the Grand Canyon as a backdrop, we viewed the very interesting cave paintings, with an estimated age of 1000-9000 years. In such a nice setting, and with the Chummy still showing some "hiccups" from the previous day´s roadside repair, another 2 hours were committed to resolving its remaining steering issues. Finally, in late afternoon, we started the grueling drive to our next destination. On the way out, we stopped at a small shack for the advertised coffee. (Our only commercial choice in an otherwise barren land.) Due to our late start after the tour and the rougher-than-expected conditions of the road, we finally pulled in to Estancia Telken well after 9 p.m. for a night of "campio" (as Stan calls it). After setting up our tents, we sat down to a stellar meal prepared by Chef Jack, who (unfortunately for him) has demonstrated his cooking prowess, with even the most rudimentary of ingredients. Exhausted, but well fed, we all slipped into our sleeping bags well after midnight under the bright luminescence of a near-full moon.

Chummy on the Rocks

Sunday, February 8th: The day started innocently enough: A bit more ripio to cover before reaching Bajo Caracoles, a windswept blip of civilisation in an otherwise austere Patagonian desert. All was going well as we found ourselves on freshly graded ripio from time to time, in anticipation of asphalt (which will surely change the character of this famous route). The only contentious element was the fierce wind, which often slowed us down to a crawl and also forced us to seek shelter under the alcove of an abandoned roadside hotel--the only building for miles and miles--to brew up a pot of coffee. Within striking distance of our final destination, however, the Chummy suddenly skidded on its front axle, coming to a grinding halt. What had happened? With a sinking feeling, we looked around the front of the car to see the right wheel lying almost flat under the car, with the front suspension having taken the full force of the nose dive into the hard ripio rocks. We were done for---or so we thought. In short time, the calvary arrived, and, with the aid of everyone pitching in, we were able to pick up the pieces (literally) that had fallen off the car and put "Chummy Dumpty" back together again. The king pin had somehow worked its way out from the suspension, causing the near-disaster. Vince commented that this was apparently a fluke, but we checked the rest of the nuts and bolts, just in case, and slowly limped to our hotel, still smarting.

Austins Meet Ruta 40 Ripio

Saturday, February 7th: After leaving El Calafate, we sped along a paved portion of Route 40, only to be slowed later by the ripio that has made this highway infamous. We stopped for a welcome repreive in Las Leones for "cafe con leche " (we can ALL say that now) and some delicious desserts. There, we learned the same hotel/cafe had been used previously by none other than Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, who used the hotel in the late 1800's to lay low for a month after a bank heist. Then, it was more ripio to cover before we arrived in Gobernador Gregores. The plan to camp was quickly altered by the arrival of rain and we luckily found ourselves a house to rent, which we quickly sullied with fresh mud as we once again trundled all the essentials (Read: "luggage and G and T mix") inside.