Patagonia Road Trip through Chile and Argentina
14-19 January. We left Patagonia National Park that rainy Wednesday and picked up the dirt road that traces the edge of General Carrera Lake. The largest lake in Chile, covering 1,850 km2, shared roughly half in Chile and Argentina where it is known as Lake Buenos Aires.
It was formed by glacial activity, which explains its intense turquoise-blue colour — the result of fine “rock flour” suspended in the water, reflecting light. The lake stretches approximately 220 km in length with a deeply indented shoreline of fjord-like arms and marble formations, including the famous Marble Caves we’d just visited near Puerto Río Tranquilo.
We can hear a new rattle coming from the truck. With the rock wall beside us, the sound is amplified back to us, something is shaking loose. Not surprising really considering all it’s been through. It takes a few minutes before we discover it’s coming from the roof rack, one of the brackets has started to come loose. Another job for Tim.
Needing to stop for couple of days, we found a wild camp right on the lake’s edge and decided to spend a few days there. After three decent hikes our laundry situation had reached critical levels — the pile was impressive and our clothing options… limited. Looking at ioverlander, laundry services are often one from people’s homes, but with the price of $5usd /kg it just wasn’t affordable.
It became a full day of hand washing in cold water. Conscious of protecting the lake, we hauled heavy buckets well above the shoreline before adding soap, careful not to let anything drain back toward the water. The wringer earned its place to stay in the truck once more — there’s something deeply satisfying about cranking the arm and watching the water pour out. Lines stretched from truck to tree. Extra pegs to keep the clothes from blowing across the lake. The warm wind dried everything surprisingly fast.
While we worked, the kids hammered away at school between “fishing but not catching” sessions. Lines were cast with optimism, reels wound back empty. Still, it was a beautiful place to spend a few days almost completely alone.
CHILE CHICO BORDER CROSSING
17 JANUARY. The small border town of Chile Chico is where we crossed into Argentina. Perhaps the are was the most interesting feature of the tidy town. A little grocery shopping before hitting the border.
ARGENTINA
The crossing itself was straightforward. Fifteen minutes to exit Chile with both ourselves and the truck, another twenty-five to complete the temporary import into Argentina. Our passports are gathering an impressive collection of stamps.
No vehicle check. Immediately across the border, in the adjoining town, there was a subtle but noticeable shift. Houses tidier. Streets cleaner. A different feel altogether.
FAMOUS RUTA 40
We joined the legendary Ruta 40 and headed toward the town of Perito Moreno before turning south for the long 600-kilometre haul to El Chalten. The road alternated between sealed stretches and long gravel sections where dust plumed behind us and the horizon shimmered endlessly ahead. More endless amounts of nothingness and wild, roaming guanacos, sadly many of which don’t make the jump and end up expiring, hung up on the fence.
It took a couple of days to reach El Chalten. The land is so vast it blows my mind, the driving is boring, the kids work away, or should be, so they tell me, on their iPads doing schoolwork. Tho Tim & I suspect it’s more like Netflix downloads. We’re constantly reeling them in to keep them focused, but those devices really are a battle we fight daily.
The next night we camped on what was clearly once a family home — now abandoned and slowly surrendering to the elements. Tim and I explored first. Room to room we went, noticing the solid timber framing, the careful finishings, details that suggested a European builder who had taken pride in his work. Upstairs we found stacks of magazines and newspapers dating from the early 1960s through to the late 90s — the family’s link to the outside world in a place without television.
After our inspection, we sent the kids in together to explore, scaring the wits out of themselves. We could hear their shrieks, then laughter from outside.
‘TOYOTA WORLD RUNNERS’ SPOT
The final stretch toward El Chaltén that long straight road. We stopped briefly at the ‘Toyota World Runners’, spot — where Mathew proposed to Stacey just two years ago — now in remembrance after their tragic accident in BC last August.
SHEEP HEARDING
Just before the final approach, near Paso a Medio, we stopped as cowboys on horseback, assisted by a dozen intensely focused dogs, moved more than a hundred sheep across the road. It was an extraordinary, organic scene — dry dust swirling, farmers whistling sharp commands, each dog responding to its own call without confusion. Controlled chaos. Total focus and fun to watch.
We waited as the last of the sheep crossed, dust hanging in the still air long after they’d moved on. The dogs settled. The farmers tipped a hand in thanks. And just like that, the road was ours again.
A few kilometres later, the horizon shifted.
Where there had only been flat land and sky, granite peaks began to rise. Familiar from photos. Bigger. Sharper, and more commanding.