Well our first stage of adventure touring was a failure. We succeeded in completing only one adventure activity, and that one was not even on our list.
So was it a complete failure? No, not at all. Our time in Salta was really awesome actually, even though it was a failure. As a time of touring and seeing the place in the two days that we had there it was fantastic, and we got to see some amazing places and landscapes. I never realised how beautiful Argentina was in certain places. There is so much more to see yet too.
The Roads
We (Chris, Isaac and I) all hired a car and took off from Salta down to a little winery town called Cafayate. The drive started off along a motorway and slowly progressed into smaller and smaller roads. Eventually we were driving on little narrow dirt roads that in places formed part of a dry creek bed, complete with sand and rocks.
The Scenery
As we travelled we saw some absolutely incredible scenery that
I have never seen before in my life. Mountains that loomed up high overhead with spectacular cliffs, valleys with winding rivers and a road carved into the side of the sheer rock wall, rolling hills through which we slowly wind our way every upward, and more.
There were large slabs of rocks jutting fiercely out of the ground, so large that we felt like ants amongst them. Barren desert landscapes filled with cactus plants and tumbleweed that was carved in half by a rich green strip following the only stream visible through to the horizon.
Mountains of virtually every colour, from white to grey to brown to black to red. And there was even a lunar-scape where the bulbous rounded sandstone formations were so unusual and strange, and yet massive, that it seemed as though we had arrived at another planet.
All along the journey, the massive mountains that marked the start of the Andes mountain range were only a short distance to our right. Ahead of us we could see for miles and miles, with nothing but open plains until more great mountains rose out of the horizon as though dug up with the fork of God.
The People
On the way we find people plowing with horse on one side of the road while on the other is a large tractor and plow pulling through the dirt. At the first sight of this Chris stops the car and we race back to snap a photo or two. Isaac simply looks on and smiles. This is not so unusual for him.
The Problem
Cars are few and far between on this rough and isolated road that we are travelling, which makes what happened next all the more serious. During a long climb up a very winding road, many miles from any form of civilization, and well out of mobile phone range, we struck a problem.
This problem came in the form of a rock. A very big rock actually. Now I have struck many rocks in many different cars over the years and yet nothing has every happened. Other people have told me terrible things that have happened, but to me a car was quite invincible. That was until now.
As the rock spun and turned under our fast moving car, two things were taking place of which at the time we were very unaware. First, a massive lump appeared in the floor at Chris' feet. This was not so terrible. Second, the gyrating rock managed to cut a hole the size of two fingers into the only rubber pipe that protruded from our fuel tank.
This was very serious. Petrol started gushing out at a great rate of knots. We were now running out of time. Very fast.
The Realisation
At a corner further up the hill, I saw a view that would make a good photo and asked Chris to stop the car. The moment we stopped, the sound of rushing fuel became apparent. Looking under the car revealed a growing river of fuel pouring out behind the car. We had a problem, and it was serious.
Quickly turning off the engine and everything electrical on the car, Chris then made a dive for the obviously broken fuel pipe, trying to stop the flow of this precious liquid. With the help of Isaac, we quickly had the car jacked up and pulled the back wheel off to give us a better view of the problem.
The pipe was cut deep and long, providing a large hole for fuel to escape. Chris' hand was the only thing stopping it right now. Surprisingly, a ute came passed only moments later. I flagged them down but they were not interested in helping us at all. So we remained in a fix and Isaac took turns with Chris to stem the flow of fuel.
The Roadside Repair
Looking out over the winding road below we could see another car making its way slowly up the hill. We had nothing with us to fix the problem so we waited for it to arrive. Eventually it did, and to our luck, we managed to obtain some wire from them. This would help us make some temporary repairs.
Cutting a strip of rubber off the rear floor mat, we wrapped this around the broken pipe, and then used the wire to hold it on tight. When we checked it all, the truth was it did not work very well, but since this was our only option, we decided to hold our breath and continue on.
So with fuel still pouring out of the pipe, although at a slightly reduced rate of flow, we continued our drive in the same direction. As we continued the fuel gauge fell fast. It was a race against time, and we needed to make it to some place that could help us before we ran out of fuel.
This, of course, did not prevent us from stopping to take photos along the way when we saw something really amazing. It just meant that our photo stops were considerably shorter than before. When we drove too, it was faster than before also, so that we could travel further while we still had some fuel.
The Mechanic
We finally arrive at a tiny town with little fuel left, but there was no mechanic here, so we tried to continue on to the next, much larger town. It was said to be about 15 minutes further on. Time that we just did not have with the fuel remaining. Our situation was looking very difficult.
Chris then gets the idea to ask this young boy coming along on a bicycle if there was a mechanic in the small town we just passed through. He assures us there is, and since we do not have any other options, we turn around and search out the workshop.
We find a tyre changing place, which we are assured is also the mechanic of the town. A knock at the door draws out the head of a worn old lady. She then calls in her tired voice for her husband, who wanders without hurry slowly toward our car. "Yes," he assures us, "I am a mechanic."
The Professional Repair
With a radiator hose, designed for water rather than fuel, and a car jack lifting our car by the fuel tank - both not so wonderful things - he begins the process of fixing our broken car. Although we were both mechanics, Chris and I are happy to let this guy work away at it with his two all-purpose tools that seem to do anything and everything.
When he had finished, our leak was fixed. The adrenaline could now subside and we could move on as soon as we paid the guy. When we asked him, he gave us the worst price we could ever imagine. "Whatever you think is a fair price," he told us.
So what do you pay a guy when you are in a strange country with no idea what the normal prices are and with a repair that is nothing close to common? Chris thought $5 pesos would be enough, and judging by the glint in the guys eyes when we gave him $10 pesos, he would have been about right. None-the-less, we were all relieved to be able to continue our journey now without losing fuel.
The rest of our journey was thankfully very uneventful with our hire car, and we were able to really enjoy the amazing views that appeared around every corner.
The Winery
Entering Cafayate, we stop at the most famous winery in the area according to our well informed guide. Isaac was as surprised as us when we heard it was closed until December 2005. So we then went to the second best winery in the town.
Normally there are groups of people waiting and we would all go through the tour of the winery together, and then come back to taste, and hopefully, buy some wine. Our situation was different (isn't it always), and there was nobody around. So we did our wine tasting first.
The wine was so good that we ended up buying four bottles. After this, we went for a private tour of the winery, learning as we went that this was an organic winery with totally organic wines. I cannot speak for Chris, but I was very impressed, and glad that we had bought what we did.
It turns out that Argentina has some very good wines, but as in the case of this winery, most of it does not get far from the vineyard before it is consumed. The wine we bought was not drunk further than Salta, and was only found in really good restaurants and hotels. The rest of it was sent overseas to markets in Germany, Switzerland, and France among other countries. Understandably, it was very good wine.
So armed with our bottles, Chris and I wait in the car for Isaac to finish his dealings with the company. Shortly Isaac wanders out to our car with two bottles of wine in his hand and a big smile on his face. This was his "payment" for bringing two gringos to this winery as their "tourism guide."
Our Campsite
In Cafayate, we look around for a place to camp, wanting to use our tents for the first time. Chris bought his before his travels and still had not used it, and I had only just bought mine the day before and was also keen to see how it was. The second campsite offered us a better price and more people, so we took it, leaving Isaac to sleep in the car.
Dinner
After sorting out and setting up our tents, we then all head into town for a nice BBQ meal (Asado). The recommendation of a local sent us off the main route into the back blocks of town where we find a very cheap and also very nice locals restaurant that served great meat. With this meat we also shared some of our newly bought red wine. It went perfectly, disappearing over a long night and lots of talking.
After dinner, we split up and Chris and Isaac head back to the tents while I stop off at the Internet to write a number of emails. When I get back to the camp grounds, a little after midnight, I have to climb the locked gates to enter. Surprisingly, I heard the voices of Chris and Isaac, still up and chatting with one of the local crowds of people nearby. I stop for a short while, but quickly head on to my tent.
My Tent
A one man tent, there is little room inside for anything more than me, yet I manage to squeeze enough room to start writing my diary. That is about the last thing I remember that night. I know I made a number of entries before everything turned to black, as I could see it all in the morning. But when I feel asleep everything was still as it was, as if I was writing it. In the morning I felt great, and ready for our next day. We were heading back towards Salta.
Heading North
The road back to Salta was all sealed, so it was easier for our racing driver (Chris) to go fast. Seated in the back I was shaken from one side to the other, and had to brace myself by hanging onto the two front seats. We saw amazing sights of rocky mountains and huge chunks of ground still sticking up into the air as though the rest of the land around them had been washed away by water.
Fortunately Chris likes taking photos too, so we stopped often to snap shots of pretty much anything that we could find. Whatever looked interesting or beautiful required a stop. Even an old guy stuck on the side of the road under a permanent makeshift shack that was selling handcrafted goods.
Interesting Gorges
The Devil's Throat and the Amphitheatre were two interesting and very busy tourist stops on the way. They were actually simply a big gorge in the rocks that went back a little way. The Amphitheatre had some great accoustics in a big round opening at the back of it. The Devil's Throat was somewhat similar except there was a super-steep slope of rock at the very back of it. Of course, being there, it had to be climbed. So Chris and I scrambled up to the top of it and looked back down the gorge from where we had come. That was an amazing sight. Isaac stayed behind and chatted with the local artists selling their wares.
The Dam
And then we reached our next destination. Cabral Corral or something like that. It is a big dam just near Salta. The idea was to go Bungee jumping and rafting. We ended up doing rappelling instead. Rappelling is when you climb up to the top of a big rock and then let yourself down again with a rope attached to you. Our rock was about 80 metres high and we were able to slide down the side of it twice, which was a lot of fun. Personally, I think it looks more impresive than it actually is, but still enjoy doing it.
Rappelling
Why did we not go rafting or bungee jumping? Well, it turned out that all of our stops for photos on the way cost us too much time, and when we arrived the rafting team had already left. On their return we discover that the rapids were only level 2 and 3, which meant they were not very big or rough, so we were happy to have missed this trip. We will look in Mendoza for something with a little more fun.
Bungee Jumping
After we finished our rapelling down the 80 meter rock, we headed up to the bungee jumping place. It should have been open still, until 7pm. Today was the only day that it wasn't. Their doctor had left early to go somewhere or do something. We were not the only one crying however, as the owner also was upset that he was going to lose our money.
Camping Again
So, defeated in all that we had wanted to do, we decided to return to the beautiful banks of the river next to the rafting company and go camping again. But we did not know there was such a huge storm coming.
Reaching the rafting company again, we settled down to a drink with the lads there and chatted about everything and anything. In the distance was a storm, but it did not look too bad. I set up my tent because it was new and I wanted to check how waterproof it was. Foolishly I also placed my sleeping bag, blanket, and jumper inside it also.
The Storm
When the storm hit it was huge. Torrents of rain so hard that you could not see through it came bucketing down out of the sky. Soon there was great chunks of ice also falling. I thought about my poor little tent in the midst of all of this but self-preservation kept me from checking up on it.
As Isaac and I waited out the storm in a large covered area, water started pouring across the floor past our feet. Everywhere we looked was water. The road had become a flowing river, and the walls behind us were pouring out water like a leaking dam wall. The roar of the hail and rain on the tin roof above us made it almost impossible to communicate except for flashes of smiles.
My Poor Tent
When the storm finally abated, I raced down to my tent to see how it fared. The water on the road, still flowing fast and deep, was freezing. When I reached the stairs down to the camping area, I could not actually see them, as there was a waterfall still in full flow. Things were not looking good.
My tent, when I found it, was in the middle of a large stream, forcing it into two smaller streams. There would have been two inches of water around the top and sides of my tent, and I was sure when I saw this that it would be inundated with water. Glancing inside however, reveals that it has fared well. There are drops of water on one side, and a little pool of water on the other side of my tent and nothing more. My sleeping bag only got a little wet even in the midst of all of this. What a cool little tent I have.
Throwing my stuff from the tent into the car, I drag the empty tent up to the toilets and give it a shower, washing off the mud and dirt that had accumulated all over it. Then with my chamois camping towel, I dry it off and hang it up for the night. I do not think I will spend the night in it this time.
Extracting The Car
Extracting the car was the next problem. When I went to drive the car back up to the road there was a lagoon of water in front of me. I did not know what to do, so approached it slowly. As I got closer, the car started sinking into mud. Almost stuck, some quick manouvering enabled me to back up onto the solid ground again. I then took another approach from a different angle with a lot of speed. Flying through the mud and water like a rally driver, I managed to skid and slide my way back to some solid ground and back to the road. What a shame there wasn't a photo of that move.
Return Home
Our night was spent in a four-bed hostel in the rafting company's building. It was comfortable and dry, with the emphasis on dry. In the morning, when we tried to return to Salta, we found the roads around the dam, all cut tightly into the steep mountain sides, were covered in rocks and mud. One time we had to move some rocks to make it through, but the rest of the time we were able to twist and turn our way through the messes.
And thus ended our two day drive around Salta. It was a beautiful trip and a lot of fun.
Returning The Car
We then go to return the car and face a fine of $50 pesos for a small scratch down the side of it. After what we had been through with this car, this seemed a small thing, but still it was far too much money for the problem. Instead, we search out some car polish and do it ourselves, for only $7 pesos. The guy never said anything about the missing part of the rear mat, nor the dodgy repair on the fuel tank, which we all thought was a stroke of good luck. Our deal had been struck and we were now done with the car.
The Bus Dilemma
For the rest of the morning, we waste time visiting shops and enjoying a coffees at various places. It is already afternoon when we turn up at the bus station to buy our tickets to Mendoza.
The first thing that we notice is the incredible crowds of people everywhere and the long lines for the tickets. Finding our way through to the ticket desk, we ask for a ticket to Mendoza today, and are told that virtually everything is sold out completely. There are only four seats left on the 11pm bus. Not realising how significant this was, we decided to leave it and look for another bus company that would have seats during an earlier time period today. There was not one that did. They were all sold out.
By the time we returned to the only company that had these tickets, they too had been sold, and we were left with no other choice than to book in for the 3pm bus the next day. It was a big disappointment for us at the time. With nothing more that we could do, we then returned back to Isaac's home for lunch.
Worst Night Ever
In Isaac's place, we meet up with all of the students from the other course at Corrientes YWAM base. They were here on their outreach phase. Everyone heads off to the church this night, but instead I consider it worthwhile to organise some of our activities in Mendoza. However it never happens. Instead it is one of the worst nights ever and I return with virtually none of the things I wanted to do done.
San Lorenzo
In the morning, Chris and I wait for Isaac in town. When he arrives he tells us that we will not be graced with his company today, so we farewell the lad casually with the expectation that we will see him again before we leave and climb into a taxi for San Lorenzo. But we will not see him again.
Now San Lorenzo is very close to Salta, and contains all of the very rich people's houses. Large mansions on great chunks of land, all surrounded by huge hedges or fences indicates the stark contrast in money between the haves and the have-nots of Argentina. Professionals such as doctors, dentists, and lawyers all live here, sharing their space with politicians too, who earn up to $12,000 pesos per month ($4000 USD).
La Quebrada
One of the most interesting things about San Lorenzo is the creek here called most appropriately, La Quebrada (The Creek in Spanish). Our taxi drops us off here, and Chris and I then spend one our following the path through lush green forests and alongside the rushing stream full of freezing cold water. All along the way we stop to take a number of photos, trying to capture the beauty of the place.
At the end of our one hour, we find a picturesque little waterfall branched off from the main stream. After taking a number of photos - aren't digital cameras great - I then strip off for a refreshing swim in a little pool just below it all. This was motivated in part because I love the idea of swimming in creeks whenever the opportunity arrives, but also because Chris offered me $2 pesos if I stayed 2 minutes in the water as it was so cold. So I did, and loved every minute of it too.
On The Bus
We have just enough time when returning to catch a chairlift to the top of the mountain and look out over the vast expanse that is Salta. Then it is lunch and climb aboard the bus. We were about to head to Mendoza, and Stage 2 of our adventure trip.