In Perito Moreno, the first city that we reached back in Argentina covered us with food and fuel, and then bend to the gefuerchtete Ruta 40, from which we are already so many horror stories belongs.
It is the only track which leads towards the south, unless you make an over one thousand kilometers long detour on the other side of the continent.
The runway fuert by bare, flat land and gefuerchtet it is because of the wind, the steadily blowing from the west and the motorcyclists all the time from the only
30 - 40 cm wide lanes of trucks in the next, and between aufgehaeuften, loose gravel tried to drive, and it has so many with a heavy fall had to pay.
The wind today was not so strong, but moved dafuer pechschwarze clouds and rain sintflutartiger soon crackled down and everything disappeared under water and transformed into slippery mud.
From nowhere emerged reissende rivers, and we had no idea where the runway now verlaeuft.
Hour by hour kaempften we bodenlosen through the mud and reached the 100 souls nest Bajo Caracoles.
We befuerchteten know, that the city had fortgespuelt.
Even in local hostal kaempfte man with the Waser that hereindrueckte everywhere in the house, but it was then but a dry Plaetzchen for us. After a hot shower, a good meal and before waermenden fire in the fireplace turned the living ghost slowly back.
Outside still raging storms and the people thought that something here has never given haette.
The rain had then in the night aufgehoert and at the next morning the sun shone again.
In Bajo Caracoles Although there was a gas station, but a Frenchman at the refuelling had more water than diesel, and is given after a few metres with his jeep fallen into abeyance.
We gave up there and risked fuelling a continuing journey.
Petrol stations in this area are more than rare, and if we still struggle against the wind must, but perhaps it might just be something ...
Instead of gefuerchteten wind blew, but only a lukewarm Lueftchen and often it was even completely calm.
Had the wind weggespuelt it, or he just sat in the mud?
The track dried slowly, and yet we often had water and slippery mud eiern.
By Topfebenes, bare land was dead straight towards the south and in the places where the runway was reasonably dry, it was good to go.
In order to get gasoline, we had to put a detour on Gobernador Gregores roll, and because the mud passages were very delayed, we stayed there over night on the free campsite. (Only for something very, very undemanding campers)
50 km before Tres Lagos, we will still gefuerchteten the Patagonian wind spueren and Ingeborg was twice wafted from the runway, but it had sturzfrei ueberstanden.
We now have the largest Gletschergebiehte reached South America, and made a side trip into the mountains to Fitz Roy Massive on Lake Viedma.
On Lago Argentina, we visited the Perito Moreno Glacier, one of the few worldwide that are still growing.
Dier 55m high glacier tongue muendet into the lake, and if it crashes steadily huge chunks of ice from the wall into Waser stuerzen and as icebergs float in the lake.
On one side of Lago Argentina, on Lake Roca fandern we have a comfortable place to camp and met there two Argentinean families who were the weekend and were spent on typical Argentine meal invited.
Hanibal of the 1150s was quite excited ....
We left El Calafate, 19 December and windy and cold after 230 km, we were on the border with Chile.
