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Published: February 10th 2018
The sky was clear when we left Calafate. We were driving East however, and fast, so it was highly likely we would meet up again with the storm which we had watched go over us earlier that morning. We did. It was cold. We rose up to meet it, climbing onto the high Patagonia plateau. The temperature dropped to 45 degrees F ( 6 degrees C). The fog came down. We plunged on into the mist, all lights blazing, not knowing quite what would come next. After an hour or two of misery, we watched the clouds lift and drift off to the East. We motored on South to Esperanza (Hope), not even considering a wet gravel short cut down Route 40 to the Chilean Border. Been there. Not doing that. The Westerly winds were good to us then, and we cut back across the country and into Chile without a problem.
On the Chile side of the border we found a great restaurant, and were stuffing ourselves with a thick vegetable soup when Ron looks up and yells out "Rene!". It was the Swiss/Austrian motorcycle gang, minus Angela, their leader. They seemed to have survived Calafate, and were headed
on down to Punta Arenas.
We turned North, and drove up to an Estancia Cerro Guido, now a very nice hotel just outside the Torres del Payne National Park. From the hotel restaurant we could look West to see the mountains against the horizon. To the East were the Patagonian flatlands, extending out to infinity.
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