With a roaring thunder and a great splash, a huge chunk of ice broke off the serrated snout of the towering Perito Moreno Glacier and plunged into the milky, turquoise Lago Argentino--it was for this that I, like so many others, made the pilgrimage to the obscure little town of El Calafate. I'd come to El Calafate for five days in late March, well past the December-February Patagonian summer when the small town would triple in size to 20,000 with tourists. Now, the crowds had gone, but autumn was setting in with rain, fierce winds and clouds that obscured the picturesque mountains surrounding the town and dulling my photos. When storms had been predicted for the days ahead, and I could no longer hike, I reluctantly left my beloved El Chalten , population 500, where for
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