Gold to Crimson This was it; after almost a year and a half among lakes, mountains, volcanoes and glaciers, I was leaving Patagonia. For the eighth and last time, I crossed the southern Andes. On the weekly Sunday afternoon bus from Junin de los Andes, Argentina, we passed through wild west scenery with native forests of prehistoric araucaria trees and Lanin Volcano, whose clouds kindly parted for my last view. After passing through the Paso Tromen (to the Argentines)/Paso Mamuil Malal (to the Chilenos) our funky old bus was stopped by a herd of cattle walking down the middle of the dirt road that is the international highway. We had entered Chile. For the last month, I'd been chasing autumn foliage in Argentina's Lake District. In April, I thrilled to the first leaves yellowing in the
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