Andes Mountain Tour, Part 2: Puente del Inca, Aconcagua, Cristo Redentor, Las Cuevas

In Part One of this account of the Andes High Mountain Tour I took today, I left you at a beautiful and historic spot, Rutas Sanmartinianas. If you didn’t read that, please follow the link in the preceding sentence and go back to do so now, because what’s the point of me repeating myself? I mean, really, people. The repetition could go on ad infinitum.

Let’s pick up with the next stop after that, Puente del Inca.

But before I do, I need to mention something we passed shortly before reaching Puente del Inca. As we were getting close, the guide, Rocio, directed our attention outside the left side of the bus, the side I was on.

There, she pointed out a small climbers’ cemetery.

People laugh at me because of my fear of heights. But I’ll tell you one thing: my fear of heights will ensure that I’ll never end up in that place. Climbing to a height high enough such that a fall could be fatal, or even just leave me with a small bruise, isn’t going to happen.

Puente del Inca

Puente del Inca is a very impressive and sturdy natural bridge over a river created by the forces of nature. A multilingual sign at the site suggests, with some correction of the English by me, that “It may have started as an ice bridge during the post-glaciation period. Avalanches coming from the northern slopes of the region would provide the alluvial materials for the bridge structure. Hot springs are responsible for the cementation and durability of the bridge over the years.”

It doesn’t show well in the accompanying picture, but much of the top of the natural bridge and a section of rock beside it are a bright yellow. That’s the result of sulphur deposits washing over it.

A luxury hotel was built in 1925 on the other side of the Puente del Inca from the road. The only way I could see to get to the hotel would have been across the natural bridge. Or, I should say, get to the former hotel. It was destroyed by an avalanche in 1965 and is now just some ruins.

There was also a church near the hotel, but closer still to the mountain. The avalanche spared it completely, and it’s still standing. Rocio said that some locals say it’s a miracle. Whatever.

If you look at the picture of Puente del Inca that I posted, you’ll notice what looks like prison cells built on the rock beside the natural bridge. They aren’t prison cells. They were thermal spas for the hotel.

Aconcagua

The next stop on the tour was at the entrance to the Aconcagua provincial park. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t know this before today, but Aconcagua is the tallest mountain not just in Argentina, not just in South America, but in all of the Americas. Its peak rises to 6,960 metres above sea level.

The entrance to the provincial park provides an excellent view of Aconcagua. Or so I’ve heard. It doesn’t provide any view of it when it’s totally obscured by clouds, as it was today.

At one point during the few minutes we stood there trying to see through the clouds, a small hole opened in them in the general direction where Rocio said Aconcagua should be. I saw what looked like the pointy peak of a mountain showing through the hole. I couldn’t see any of the rest of the mountain, just the peak.

I pointed it out to Rocio and asked if that was the peak of Aconcagua, but she said, “No, it’s completely obscured.” Well, that’s a bummer.

Aside

Don’t tell Donald

I hope Donald Trump never finds out that Aconcagua is the tallest peak in the Americas. He’ll insist on annexing Argentina to make it part of the United States.

“The high ground is vital to the national security of the United States. We must have it. It makes no sense for us not to.

“Besides, Argentina not being a U.S. state is stupid. Both Argentina and America start and end with “A.” It’s a perfect fit. And Argentina is already in the Americas, just like the good old United States, so they wouldn’t notice much of a change.

“And that mountain contains a lot of minerals. Nobody knows more about minerals than I do. Believe me.

“When the mountain becomes part of the USA, I’ll immediately sign an executive order authorizing unlimited mining on the sides of the mountain. But not the top. Gotta keep it the tallest.

“But that name has to go. Aconcagua. What is that? Nobody’s heard of such a name. Who can even pronounce it? Nobody. It’s stupid. It needs a patriotic American name. Even before the mining executive order, I’ll sign an order renaming it after your favourite president, Mount Trump. Everyone will love it.”

I wish I thought that was impossible. But, you know. Mad kings gotta be mad kings.

Cristo Redentor

Before we got to our next stop, Rocio had the driver pause briefly at what was to be the stop after that, Las Cuevas, our final stop.

There, she told us that our next stop was almost 4,000 metres above sea level. She said it’s an optional stop. We wouldn’t have any available medical attention up there. So if anyone thought they would have a health problem because of the elevation, they could get out where we were paused, where there was a restaurant and chocolate shop, and wait for us to come back in about an hour.

Her warning was even longer in Spanish. I’m curious about what additional information she gave Spanish speakers. Whatever it was, everyone in the bus opted to press on.

With that, the bus drove through an arched portal in the middle of the restaurant building and onto a dirt road.

The road headed straight for a while, toward a mountain. When it reached the mountain, the road became twisty and turny, including some hairpin turns, as it climbed the mountain.

The road was barely wide enough for two vehicles, and sometimes, it wasn’t even broad enough for that. Occasionally, a vehicle going in one direction had to wait at a sufficiently wide part for a vehicle coming in the other direction to pass. Most of the vehicles were buses roughly the size of the tour bus I was on, but there were also some cars.

The road remained a dirt road—loose dirt—all the way up.

There were no guardrails. With the twists and turns, sometimes I was on the side with a tall, steep drop over the edge. I was less than thrilled with that part.

When we finally reached the top, a plateau not much below the summit, we were at the border between Argentina and Chile. There is a much better road now, but the road we were on used to be the main road from Argentina to Chile’s capital, Santiago.

If the altimeter on my iPhone is accurate, we were at 3820 metres above sea level on that plateau. The views from up there are phenomenal, even with some cloud cover.

At the top, there’s a large statue of Christ the Redeemer. I guess people want to pray that they make it back down safely.

When I was up there, I set foot, or probably a couple of feet, into Chile. There was no demarcation line between the two countries. The countries’ flags flew on either side of the statue, but no border was visible. And there was no border station on the road up. (We drove back the same way, so I don’t know if there was anything lower down on the Chile side.)

One day, I should probably learn more about the Mercosur common market. Is it like the unfettered transit within the Schengen region in Europe? Argentina is a full member of Mercosur and Chile an Associate member. Is that it?

At that altitude, I found breathing to be more difficult, and I got a bit light-headed at times, but you’ll be happy—or not—to learn that I survived.

After spending time up at the Cristo Redentor monument and taking in the views of the mountain from up there, we drove back down the long and winding dirt road to Las Cuevas.

Las Cuevas

There’s nothing much to say about Las Cuevas, there’s not much there. Like I said earlier, there’s a restaurant and a chocolate shop, which also sells wines and souvenirs, but that’s about it. There are a few buildings of unknown use down the road, but nothing else that I noticed.

Rocio said that the current population of the hamlet is two. (I guess most workers commute.)

It was just a lunch stop. The restaurant, which you have to climb some stairs to get to because of the portal for the road that’s cut through its base, has a fixed-price menu. It’s 20,000 Argentinian pesos if you pay by credit card, 19,000 if you pay cash. (Roughly $20US/$19US)

For that, you go up to a hot table with about a half-dozen items and point to the items on it you want. Spanish speakers told the server what they wanted, but that didn’t work for me because none of the staff in the restaurant seemed to speak any English. There were also some raw vegetables like lettuce, shredded carrots, tomatoes, and I forget what else that you could help yourself to. It also came with water, a soft during, or a glass of wine.

It wasn’t gourmet by any stretch of the imagination, but we didn’t get there until about 2:30 in the afternoon, which is way past my normal lunch time. So, I was ready to eat just about anything.

I said that Las Cuevas was our last stop. That wasn’t exactly true. The driver took a slightly different route back through the Andes, but took us back to the restaurant in Uspallata that was our second stop of the morning. But that last stop was strictly for a toilet break.

Damn. I hate ending a post with a toilet, but there you have it.