Northwest Argentinia till Salta

After crossing the border at Las Flores, I wanted to end the day at Lago Cuesta del Viento and post a few pictures. I was proud of myself. My first pass over 4'000 m.a.s.l. As the name suggests, the lake is known for its wind and kite surfers.

After moving twice, I realized that I wouldn't be able to sit outside here, but I didn't want to drive any further. 

It wasn't until the next morning that I went to Jachal. My second visit was just like the first. Exchanging money at Western Union was only possible for domestic transactions (a nice lady at the post office explained to me that if there was a letter in my passport number, she wouldn't be able to carry out the transaction)

The one-way streets were still not signposted and, like the first time, the supermarket closed at 13:00. I didn't get any empanadas either! But I got water at the gas station and so I made my way north. 

The route to Huaco was the same, but now, after the rain, everything was much greener. Even the streams and rivers along the RN40 carried muddy water. On the straight stretch behind Huaco, the only thing that stood out were the dips. No bridges were built, but the RN40 was lowered to allow the creeks to flow.  Somewhere along one of these straight stretches, I left the San Juan Province and entered La Rioja Province.

It was only now that I realized that I had already driven through parts of the province in the first few weeks. I had already enjoyed the Parque Provincial Ischigualasto with its red rock formations on the outward journey.

La Rioja Province stretches from the Andes in the west (Monte Pissis 6'795 m.a.s.l) across the dry pampas almost as far as Cordoba. There are several mountain ranges, such as the Sierra de Velasco and the Sierra de Famatina, which run through the province. People earn their money here with wine, vegetables and livestock farming. This province is not densely populated either.

There had been heavy rain in the weeks before and there was sand and grit in the depressions on the RN40, ploughed through by the tires of the vehicles. So I didn't have to brake hard, just find the right lane. It was like this all the way to Guandacol.  

Behind Guandacol there is a river, the Rio La Troya, or should I call it a lake? In any case, there was a partially flooded passage. No bridge, no dip, just grit and the remains of the RN40. I wondered how they had got through here when it had rained more heavily. 

I ended my day at the Vallecito Encantado (Enchanted Valley). This is a small gorge with rock formations from the Carboniferous period. You can see a lot of red sandstone that has taken on strange shapes due to rain and wind. The picture is rounded off by the green valley of the Rio La Troya and a nameless sierra in the background

The full moon illuminated the sandstone that evening, making the red appear even more intense. I hadn't noticed the lunar eclipse at 4 a.m. or was too lazy to get up.

Next stop, Chilecito!  Since Huaco, the Cuesta de Miranda was the only winding stretch of the RN40. The Punto Alto pass (2'040 m.a.s.l.) connects the Sierra de Sañogasta and the Sierra de Famatina and was an old Inca road between Chilecito and Villa Unión . I would say that the Cuesta de Miranda was a small highlight. In addition to the rock formations, there were photogenic cacti in abundance.  

Afterwards I read that there are two “Top 10 Ruta 40” sights in La Rioja, Talampaya and the Cuesta de Miranda. I understand the former, the latter probably means that there is not much else to see. 

I visited Chilecito, the second largest town in the province.  I have no idea why this town made it into my travel guide! In my opinion, it wasn't much more worth seeing than the towns before it. And size doesn't necessarily make you beautiful. 

And the fact that there was a small store where I could recharge my German gas bottle (3'500 ARS per KG) shouldn't be a criterion either. The Plaza Principal De Chilecito and the Parque De La Ciudad did not prompt me to take a picture. But I did buy some vegetables and facturas. All before the sidewalks were rolled up at 13:00.

I wanted to spend the weekend in a canyon with a water basin (El Rincón) near Shaqui.  In Shaqui I saw the effects of the rain again, as the bridge over the Rio de Cuipan suggested by Google Maps no longer existed. I took plan B and crossed the Rio de Cuipan at the Camping Municipal. Twenty minutes later, I had a cool spot at El Rincón and was already looking forward to my swim in the natural pools. 

At first I wasn't really annoyed by the few flies, but after an hour there was a huge swarm. In and around the van. I tried vinegar water and scrubbed the surfaces, but nothing helped. There were more of them. 

Frustrated, I took flight at 18:30 in the evening and drove to the Camping Municipal. There were a few campers there, but no one from the town. An American biker, Branson, told me it was free and that 2 banos and a shower were open and clean. 

After seeing no swarms of flies, I took a shower and had a beer with Branson. Free camping, drinking water and sanitary facilities, what more could I want for the weekend. I even put up with the people who were coming to the barbecue on Sunday.

Next morning, 9:00, and the flies invaded again. Change of plans, I told myself. I brought forward my Monday trip to the Balcon de Pissis (4'599 m.a.s.l). Hopefully there would be no flies at that altitude.

The 280 km on the RN60 to the Balcon de Pissis led through picturesque villages with only a few restaurants or supermarkets. I did my shopping in Tinogasta and at 14:00 I was at 3'300 n.a.s.l and turned off onto the gravel road to the Balcon.  55 km and 1'300 meters of altitude still lay ahead of me. I drank water at every stop to take pictures.

I climbed steadily up to the Portezuelo de las Lágrimas. The landscape was dominated by shades of green and brown. Then continued on a plateau, grey and brown started to become the colors of choice. But there were always small shrubs that provided a splash of color with their green. I passed 2 white lagoons or salars, saw llamas and donkeys and reached the top after 1.5 hours. In bright sunshine and temperatures that dropped to 7 degrees the higher I got, I enjoyed the view.

When I opened the van door, it was almost snatched out of my hand again. An icy easterly wind was blowing and I got cold so damn quickly in my shorts and T-shirt. I put on a jacket, but paid the price for the quick journey from 1'100 to 4'599 in just under 6 hours. I broke off my walk because I was running out of breath. After 20 minutes, I drove down to Laguna de los Aparejos and took a longer break. At 18:30 I was back at 3'300 m and recovered at the Pastos Largos Refugio. I hadn't had a headache, I was just tired and exhausted at the altitude. 

The next morning, two mountain hikers explained to me how they were acclimatizing to climb the Incahuasi. Almost a week with several ascents and lots of long rest breaks....

But I was fine so far and enjoyed the drive on the RN60 to a campsite at 2'000 meters. The rock formations along the Quebrada Las Angosturas are a stark contrast to the landscape along the RN40. The narrow gorge is so rugged and colorful.

Before Fiambala, I had a good view of the Dunas de Saujil. There were pitches there, but there was no shade and the Dunas de Saujil faced west, so the sun shone until they set. 

I had actually wanted to head north via the RP34, along the Dunas de Saujil, to avoid a detour. But after the rain, or in general, that was the status on IOverlander

So when you want to go north to the Puna , take this junction via las Papas only when you have a not too big rig and very good 4x4

Neither really applies to the Sprinter. The Puna, also known as the Altiplano, stretches across the provinces of Jujuy, Salta, Catamarca and La Rioja in Argentina.  As one brochure said: “This region is a treasure trove for adventurous travelers in search of unparalleled beauty and tranquillity.” That's where I actually wanted to go!

The Puna is also part of the great Atacama Desert, which stretches across Argentina and Chile.  It would also be my last chance to go stargazing in an observatory.

So I looked for a pitch in a canyon near the Ruinas de Watungasta. These were a few walls, no idea who had built them. But after 1 hour the flies visited me again. Not as many as before, but borderline for me. 

Next morning, same game. I gave up and made my way to the RN40 and then further north. I'd say I had about a 150 km detour due to the state of the RP34.

The good thing is that there is not much traffic on the RN60 or later on the RN40, only on the RN40 does the monotony return. At this junction, I entered the Catamarca province. Only from Londres and Belén onwards was there more than cacti and endless expanses to marvel at.

80% of the 102'602 km² province of Catamarca is covered by mountains. I was interested in the transition area between the Andes in the far west and the Puna. I also learned that water resources were damn scarce and that there were far fewer gas stations than elsewhere in Argentina. The Puna has a desert climate with very little rainfall, but there is still heavy rainfall in January and March. So I was 2-3 weeks too early. 

After my research at the Camping Municipal Puerta de San José, north of Belén, I knew I had to adjust my Puna tour. The RN40 between La Poma, Abra del Acay and the RN51 was impassable. Rain had washed away part of the road.

What can I say about Londres and Belén? Nice little towns, petrol stations, cute plazas and small stores. There was also a Western Union in Belén, which gave me my 200'000 ARS in 1'000 bills. The employee just shrugged his shoulders and said “Esto es Argentina!”

I made another attempt to go out to eat and was lucky. For 12'000 ARS I had a Milanese with patatas fritas. They were really edible!

The Camping Municipal Puerta de San José was now the second campsite that cost nothing, was clean and even had electricity and hot showers. I had no time pressure and took a break and did the long overdue car cleaning.

I was a little nervous when we entered the Puna. I had put together a route with LocusMap and it was over 1'000 km long.

This was the first time in South America that I filled up my spare gasoline canisters. 90 l in my tank and 40 l spare. Consumption so far was 12 l/km and later on in the Puna it increased to 15l/km on a daily average. So I needed to refill at least once.

From Laguna Blanca i would drive in between 3'000 m.a.s.l and around 4'600 m.a.s.l

The first stop was Laguna Blanca. The approach was uphill on a well-paved RP43 along the Rio Bolson.

As I drove along the road through the Dunas de la Difunta, I knew I had arrived in the Puna!

Only the last 10 km to the Laguna were dirt road, good dirt road. Laguna Blanca was a big highlight for me. 

I didn't find much about this Laguna Blanca, because there are several other Laguna Blancas about which more is written. The pitch (3'208 m.a.s.l.) was on the edge of the lagoon, right next to llamas/vicunas and various birds. A Cóndor Andino was circling in the distance. Chilean flamingos, James flamingos and various ducks were swimming on the lagoon less than 300 meters away. 

The only sounds I heard were the whistling of the wind and animal noises.

We then headed to Antofagasta de la Sierra via El Peñón. The colors changed with the altitude. Brown, green, yellow, white and all possible shades of gray. In between there are salars, lagoons and volcanoes (e.g. Volcan Carachi Pampa or Volcán Antofagasta). I didn't make much progress, as many pictures as I took.

If you want to learn more about the Altiplano-Puna volcanic complex, you can find out more on Wikipedia 

Deposits are found throughout the puna and include pumice-rich and ash-rich deposits. The lava fields near Antofagasta, Piedras Campanas, are among them

At the Mirador Virgen De La Peña, I once again had a little mishap. I got stuck between volcanoes and gorges at the viewpoint, but at least I was only 100 m away from the RP43. A nice Argentinian Amarok driver then pulled me out.

The subsequent drive was along an endless straight stretch of road in bright sunshine and 22 degrees on a high plateau to Antofagasta.

The small town lies at 3'440 m above sea level, was asleep when I arrived and was my only option for refueling and getting water. The YPF gas station in town charged 2'409 ARS (cash only) for the diesel Comun. Up here you can probably set the price yourself.

There are three types of diesel fuel in Argentina:

1. Grade 1, also known as AGRODIESEL or GASOIL AGRO, is mainly for agricultural equipment. The retail sale of grade 1 diesel fuel is optional.
2. Grade 2, also known as GASOIL COMUN (ordinary diesel fuel), is intended for the majority of diesel-powered vehicles. Grade 2 diesel fuel is available with two different sulphur contents, depending on the population density of the location where it is sold.
3. Grade 3, also known as GASOIL ULTRA, is the highest quality diesel fuel available since February 1, 2006. 

 To get to the Cone de Arita, I had to turn off onto the RP44. 

The RP44 was a pleasant road at the beginning (I could drive up to 70 km/h) and it was only about 80 km to Antofalla. I was surprised that Google Maps predicted 2 hours. Along the Rio Calalaste it was a relaxed ride up the mountains to my highest pass of the day at over 4'500 meters above sea level.  The landscape was picturesque and varied. Not the expected steppe or wasteland.

But the descent to Laguna Salar de Antofalla was really bad. First gear and walking speed for a good 10 km. The reward was a fantastic view of one of the longest salt flats in the world.

The area is considered an oasis in the arid expanse of the Puna and definitely offers breathtaking views. The 8 km uphill at walking pace to my pitch (3'500 m above sea level) spoiled the enjoyment a little! It was dark by 20:00 in the evening and at 8:00 in the morning it was only 6 degrees. The high altitude switch on my Walles heater paid off.

Only 75 km to the Cone de Arita were on the program for the next day. The day continued just as the previous day had ended. It took me over 3 hours to cover the few kilometers that day. Firstly, because of a drone shoot, and secondly because of the lousy road. 

I didn't drive with the automatic, but shifted manually. Every now and then I shifted into 3rd gear, but mostly it was 1st or 2nd gear. The landscape remained colorful and the further down I got, the more colorful the hills became. Unfortunately, the road got worse at the same time. The last 20 km to the Cone of Arita were some of the worst Ripio tracks I had ridden that day. I crawled along the track at 10 to 20 km/h at 25 Celsius.

While the landscape was beautiful up to that point, the Cone de Arita disappointed me a little. I thought I would see it kilometers in advance. When I finally saw it, the volcanic cone was standing there in the middle of the dirt, because there was no water in the Salar de Arizaro, and didn't look as impressive as I had imagined from Insta & Co pictures. 

As the author of the pitch had written in IOverlander, the pitch offers no wind protection. It wasn't really a problem for me, but I was sandblasted when I sat in the chair in front of the camper van. Flying with the drone was out of the question, or I wanted to dispose of the drone for good this time with wind and sand speeds of up to 30 km/h. Driving any further was out of the question, as the next usable parking space was 2.5 hours' drive away.

Details like this tend to be left out on social media, but this wasn't my first windy pitch in SA and it wouldn't be the last!

After a somewhat restless night and temperatures around freezing point, I set off again in the morning. I wanted to buy some bread in Tolar Grande and load up on water.

The drive over the Salar de Arizaro almost to Tolar Grande was much better than I had expected. Once again, the road is dead straight and boring, but after taking a picture of the runway in the middle of the Salar, I managed the 80 km in about 90 minutes. 

The airstrip is operated by a mining company. There are several active and abandoned mines around the Salar such as Proyecto Lindero - Mina de Oro, Proyectos Lindero or Mina La Casualidad. I believe that these mines are the reason for the heavy truck traffic on the RP27. I saw more cars/trucks here in one hour than on the RP44 and RP43 in one day.

The monotony was only interrupted by a red volcanic field shortly before Talar Grande. 

What is there to say about Tolar Grande and its approx. 300 inhabitants? In the 1940s, Tolar Grande was the end point of the railroad line to Chile, which was to connect Salta with Antofagasta. At that time, around 5'000 people lived here.

Today there is not much to see, apart from a chapel and the Casas Cuevas de Tolar Grande. All in all, you can do this in 20 minutes. I didn't manage to have a coffee or eat anything due to lack of opportunity.

Near Tolar Grande are the “Ojos de Mar”, a salty lagoon. I found on the internet that some of the few living stromatolites  in the world can be found here. The only ones on earth that live at an altitude of almost 4'000 m.a.s.l. They didn't catch my eye!

I continued along the RP27 to my campsite at 4'055 m.a.s.l. An old abandoned station on the Salta - Antofagasta line. I have no idea why a station and about 15 houses were built here in the middle of nowhere. 

Evening came quickly and in the setting sun I saw llamas/vicuñas moving quickly in my direction and then disappearing into a hollow. A slightly smaller animal was on their heels. A puma? I got my camera with telephoto and drone ready for action. The minutes passed, movement now and then, but it got dark too quickly. Again, no picture of a puma or condor!

On Sunday morning, I didn't realize that it was going to be a special Sunday. The area to the east of my pitch is semi-desert and is called Desierto Del Diablo. Apart from a few kilometers, the road is really easy to drive. When I actually arrived in the Devil's Desert, I was speechless. Unspeakably beautiful, rugged, barren, intense colors, none of the words really describe it.

After the Desierto Del Diablo it didn't end there, I drove into Los Colorados. A narrow canyon with red sandstone. Beautiful, but different.

There was supposed to be a junction at the end of the canyon. But there wasn't one! The first place where you could change to the other road had a climbing angle that was not feasible with the Sprinter.  I drove on and at the second point, the road went through sand for 30 m and then went quite steeply onto the other road. I felt a bit queasy when I dared. With a bit of momentum and luck, I made it. I assume it was the RP27 or RP17. Not 500 m further on, I saw that my previous road ended, in nothing!

That was the cool part of Sunday. The next 100 km to the RN51 were straight, boring, dusty, monotonous..... Even the Salar de Pocitos or the few houses that are probably called Salar de Pocitos only made me take a pee break

The RN51 was a different kind of unexpected surprise. Ripio, ripio and trucks in between. I may have seen so many trucks on the RN3, but it was paved and easy to drive. The RN51 goes up to 4'560 m.a.s.l and is more of an off-road experience in some places. And whether up to the Alto Chorillo pass or down to San Antonio de los Cobres, I could usually only drive at 10 - 40 km/h and had to look for the best, i.e. ripio-free, lane. 

I actually wanted to find a parking space much closer to Salta, but by 17:00 I had had enough. There weren't many pitches on IOverlander, so I looked for one where locals had driven in on the right or left. About 10 km before San Antonio de los Cobres, on the Rio San Antonio de los Cobres, I found what I was looking for at an altitude of over 3'800 meters. Until 21:00 in the evening, I could hear trucks searching for their lane on this national highway.

And so it went on through the night. I felt sorry for the truck drivers who had to struggle along the track in the dark.

The next day and a surprise at San Antonio de los Cobres. Firstly, the RN51 was given a good tarmac surface and secondly, there was a police checkpoint where they made it clear to me that the RN40 was not passable. 

By the way, San Antonio de los Cobres, at 3'775 m.a.s.l, is one of the highest towns in Argentina and has a train station that is famous for being a “stop on the train to the clouds”. Although the tracks to Salta looked ancient, there is a tourist train from Salta to San Antonio de los Cobres. I didn't notice much else on the way through. A few stores and restaurants.

A few kilometers later I reach the RN40 exit. It looks okay, but I didn't push my luck. Probably have to do without the Abra del Acay (4'972 m.a.s.l.)

As a substitute, there was the Paso Abra Blanca at 4'080 m.a.s.l. The landscape changed over these few kilometers. It became greener every kilometer I drove towards Salta.

In the valley of the Rio Tastil there were cacti again. Lots of cacti!

The rock formations between Tastil and Alfarcito, together with the cacti, meant that I made more stops than on any previous stretch.

At some point on the RN51, the Rio Tastil becomes the Rio Rosario. The valley becomes narrower and from the Puente Padre Chifri, an old steel bridge for the railroad from the 1950s, you could see the effects of the storms. Pieces of the pavement were missing and streams made their way through piles of gravel to the Rio. It was exciting to see which of the small lakes on the RN51 were how deep and what the best track was.

When I left the Puna behind me shortly before Salta, I also left the good weather behind me. It was raining. And it stayed that way for the next 2 days. I didn't mind, because I went to a Mercedes dealer for the service that was due .