Malargüe - Touch the sky

It was a 29th of December when I reached Melargue. I was welcomed by a quiet and drowsy place. As I was only passing by, it wasn’t in my plans to stay for more than just a couple of days. Leaving San Rafael behind, with its beautiful valley, the Atuel canyon and its exquisite wine cellars, I had sincerely no expectations.

Asking around I ended up at the “Refugio de Juan”. The owner let me in just in time to get away from a hail storm that got stronger while he commented how the stones ruined many farmers, including him. While chatting he revealed his real passion, the mountain, and how he had once been the argentine champion at survival in high ranges. As the storm got weaker and the chitchat was coming to an end, he simply slipped: “On the 8th of January I’m going to the debris of the plane”. Immediately I understood that he was talking about the Uruguayan airplane. I wanted to be there too. Actually, I had never thought about it, but from that moment on it nearly became an obsession. Once again I was pleased of traveling this way; just being flexible to whatever comes up.

While waiting I visited some wonderful places as the Pincheiras castles and the Payunia, a stunning volcanic region with a lunar scenery surrounded by volcanoes which are investigated by scientists from all over the world.

Malargue combines unique climatic conditions and environmental purity, making this a perfect place for the Pierre Auger astronomic observation laboratory, a particular spot that deserves a visit.

Of course I managed to find the time to mingle in the Fiesta Nacional del Chivo, which takes place anually here the first days of January. Can’t miss the opportunity to have a chivito asado with some local red wine to help it go down.

I decided that the day before the departure should be spent relaxing. As I got up I heard down the street the voices and laughs of some of my fellow travelers. Four mendocinos, that like me were well into their thirties. I immediately got fond of them as a result of their jokes and occurrences. Fun was guaranteed.

After a heavy lunch we set off. The group was complete as Juan, a guy from Buenos Aires and his helper joined in. We hopped into a van that took us to where we would part with the horses at the break of dawn.

Already on my way I started feeling that weird, but pleasant sensation that rouses as you leave civilization, noise and people behind. (although momentarily)

To assure that we rested, Miguel el puestero prepared a spectacular chivo which we practically devoured, together with red wine served in a hollow melon. No doubt that we were going to sleep like logs.

During the morning I was introduced to “Zurdo”, a white horse with a crazy look in his eyes (like the majority of them) and huge ears. He was responsible of bringing me back in one piece at the end of our trip. Throughout the journey I understood that there isn’t an animal that is as noble, strong and intelligent as the horse. It was a pleasure to observe the coordination of his movements, the strength of his muscles especially standing out in sharp slopes and while crossing rivers with heavy flows.

We were only riding for a bit when we were already being seduced by the mountain range. The virgin surroundings and the clean air got hold of us, and even though uncomfortable, we were all smiling as happy kids. The snow, still present in patches due to the heavy winter, made the landscape even nicer. For long periods of time no one said a word, the mountain imposed its silence and each one got lost in our own thoughts. We stopped every three to four hours. Near five in the afternoon of our first day we reached a mountain shelter in a precarious state which we adopted hastily.

Taking advantage that the sun was still up, we went for a good plunge in one of those incredible small mountain lakes with frozen water. The challenge was to see who went in first and was able to stand in there, freezing, for longer. We were teenagers again, enjoying of silly competitions.

The night had for us an unexpected weird sky, storm coming up for sure. Juan and Miguel, the puestero told us how in just a couple of seconds a storm can be created and that sometimes they were responsible in delaying trips bang in the middle of summer. As we lied down, yet another teenage drawback makes us enjoy of the jokes that go round the tents. Finally the sleep seeps in and we rest.

Early in the morning we leave. The group shows a bit of anxiety, way pass midday, if we keep the steady pace we will reach the airplane.

The slopes get sharper as we move on, and huge stones in the river beds become more often. Even so we keep smiling.

As we get nearer we are obliged to walk the last stretch. After leaving behind some complicated slopes and a labyrinth of hard snow we stand only a few steps away from the cemetery. Here lie the ones that sadly stayed and some debris of the plane. I feel a very deep emotion that brings me together with my being. The group has scattered, each and every one of us get there at our own pace.

As we step on the cemetery I embrace one of the mendocinos. We are both crying, soft, serene, zero anguish, loads of peace. The clinching goes on, later the silence wins.

Sitting on a rock I mutely look around at the landscape of stone and snow. After a couple of minutes I start thinking how they managed to stand that long sitting and waiting on a rock just like this one. I study the magnitude of the mountain range to my left and I wonder were they got the strength to go over to Chile trespassing all these obstacles. The vital impulse of a guy such as Parrado, that leaves his dead mother and sister behind, and walks forward to go across the impossible. He is an example of the strength and hope that we, human beings, are able to show.

For a long while the silence is absolute. Surely everyone is having flashes of their lives in their heads. Juan tells us it is time to go back if we don’t want the night to catch up with us before we reach the shelter. After a couple of pictures we start coming down. I feel that the end of a unique and profound experience is starting. For sure it will mark me for long.

“Zurdo” points his ears up and tags along, he just dreams with a good roll on the grass, running with no saddle, and no tourist.
Content courtesy of Nomada Magazine