Calafate to San Martin de los Andes, 2,000 kilometers on Argentina’s Ruta Nacional Cuarenta (40). Dry, dusty prairie. Dust storms. Nothing but prickly grass all the way to the horizon.Winds so fast we could put Sparky (the car) in neutral and still be going 120 km/hr.

Driving Cuarenta means long stretches of emptiness. Your driving companions are sheep, guanacos, choikes, choikes malas (mini-choikes) and more sheep. If you’re driving after dark you might catch a glimpse of a zorro (fox) as is darts across the road, invisible except for gleaming eyes and bushy tail. There are a few small, dusty towns along Cuarenta, placed at strategic intervals so that the motorist can theoretically make it from one town to another without starving or running out of gas. From afar, these towns seem like oasises. They are dots of green, ringed by the tall poplars necessary to sustain life in an area where winds can outstrip jet planes. In actuality, they’re often a disappointment. Finding anything useful/edible proves frustratingly difficult, as you roll past one boarded up and graffitti-ed storefront after another.  And if you happen to pass through during siesta, 1 to 5 pm, dream on. Most of these towns have gas stations but whether or not they have gas is another matter entirely. And if they do have gas, there is a decent chance they will only sell you enough to get you to the next town. This is great until you get the car stuck twice, have to backtrack several kilometers and have a ridiculous headwind the entire time. Then you’ll probably run out of gas 3 kilometers outside of Perito Moreno and have to hitchhike in the rest of the way, kind of like we did.

Cuarenta is in the process of being paved and the closed-off, recently-paved  sections are extremely tempting after hours of bone-jarring washboard gravel. All you have to do is move a giant “PELIGRO” (danger) sign and off you go at 100 km/hr. Sometimes, of course, this backfires and puts you face to face with giant construction equipment. Occasionally the guy driving the road-grater will flash his lights and suggest by way of angry hand gestures that moron, you’re driving in a construction zone. Most of time though, the construction workers just ignore you and as long as you can dodge the skidders and the backhoes, you’re good to go. Every now and then you’ll come to sections of the pavement that have been blocked by large piles of sand. This is how we got Sparky stuck the first time. (We got him stuck the second time because Macky thought it would be a good idea to uproot the “PELIGRO” sign and try driving over it. Don’t bring it up, it’s a sore subject.) Sometimes the paved sections just end in nothingness. This is why we ended up doing a fair amount of backtracking and running out of gas.

But detours, flat tires, getting stuck and running out of gas. This is what driving Cuarenta is all about. It’s also about pitching a tent on the side of the road at one in the morning. To be fair, not our best night’s sleep ever (the prickly grass was more than a match for the bottom of the tent), but certainly a necessary Ruta Cuarenta experience.

Getting Stuck Take One

Getting Stuck Take Two

Filling up after Macky hitched into town to get gas