Patagonia, Size Large

Bariloche, Argentina gorgeous and is nestled in the Andes on the shores of a huge lake.  In the winter, it is a ski center, in summer, it is known for hiking, fishing, and being a place to enjoy the good life...a cross between Lake Tahoe and Jackson Hole.  We spend the evening there, and do a little shopping in the morning, before heading southeast down the road on Route 40.  As we head out the scenery changes, reminding me of Glacier NP...100 miles further, we seem to be in Wyoming, on the sage plains.  The goal for the day, Comodoro Rivadavia on the Atlantic coast of Argentina.  Once leaving the Andes, Patagonia becomes the "BIG Empty".  Flat plains, and occasional rolling hills...but empty.  The scale of this country is enormous, and beyond my ability to accurately describe...one has to experience it to understand.  At the time of this posting, we have travelled 1,000 miles through the plains and we are not done with it.  We have chosen this route because it is the fastest, not necessarily the prettiest or most interesting.  The Little Red Truck seems to be showing signs of stress, and we are anxious to get to Ushuaia without major trouble. 

Comodoro Rivadavia is a rough blue collar city on the Atlantic...the name of the game here is oil.  As we cruise toward the city, we see oil wells everywhere, and again, it reminds me of Wyoming.  We arrive late in the evening, and get lost, of course.  We stopped at the only restaurant we see, and it tunes out to be a good one, packed with locals who look like people we want to be very, very nice to. Luckily, the head waiter has spent some time in the US and he draws a map to our hotel, which we previously selected on-line.  This means we only have to stop at two more gas stations for further directions.

There is nothing to keep us here in the morning, short of a trip to a bank, but I do catch the sight of a Mormon Church, and four missionaries on the sidewalk along the way...who we choose not to torment.

The day is incredibly boring on the Patagonia steppe...lots of straight lines and emptiness...for another 500 miles to Rio Gallegos.  All Patagonia routes converge on this grubby Atlantic Coast town for the entry to Tierra Del Fuego.  Along the way we observe some strange and interesting wildlife...ostritch-type birds, about four feet tall...wild llama looking animals, Guanacos, that hang out on the prarie, like Pronghorn back home...a Patagonia Hare, the size of a small dog.  All in all, a good day for making progress.  The two police/military stops were uneventful...the police behaved themselves and our papers were in order.  Rio Gallegos is knwon for having a bank hit by Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid for over $100,000 in gold and silver.  The thought of them traveling this far south by horse, boggles my mind.