Yes, I said camels. More on that in a minute. As I’ve been documenting, Ru and I joined my friend Pablo and his two daughters Juli and Mica touring, trekking, and tripping down the eastern side of the Andes mountains of Patagonia, southern Argentina. One of our stops was the Cueva de las Manos…the Cave of the Hands.
A UNESCO World Heritage site, the Cueva de las Manos is in such a remote location that it’s often missed by most casual tourists. Since driving all the way around to the main access road would take us over 150 kilometers out of our way, we decided to hike to it. After spending a night in a comfy log cabin, the five of us drove 17-km along a winding gravel road, along which we saw guanacos (WAN-a-coes), which look like short-haired llamas but, like the llamas, vicunas, and alpacas are actually closely related to camels.
We also saw choiques (CHOY-kas), which are ostrich-like birds that people up north may have heard called rheas. I’ll have more on these and other Patagonian wildlife (including condors) in a future post.
Eventually we arrived at the end of the road, but not the end of the trail, for where we were parked was on the opposite side of the valley from where we needed to be. So we hiked down this valley; that’s the cave peaking out from the other side.
And a little closer…
Once on the other side we could see the valley we crossed. To give you perspective, the greenery in the center are full-size trees nestled along the Pinturas River. I admit we dallied in the wonderful shade they provided from the mid-day sun as we crossed a footbridge over the river.
By the way, our car is at the top of that ridge on the right. But let’s not think about the return trip just yet. Let’s go see the cave.
Okay, the cave itself is not so impressive. It’s about 10 meters high, 15 meters wide, and about 24 meters deep. It’s what is outside the cave that stirs the imagination. To get an idea of the layout, take a look at the photo below, which shows the valley and the cave system on the right wall.
The main cave is the hole to the right about mid-way where the slope meets the cliff. However, following along what looks like a cut as you move left in the photo traces over 4000 years of history. And what you see is…hands.
The hands are everywhere. At least three waves of indigenous peoples lived in this area, from about 9,000 years ago to as far as 13,000 years ago. The peoples were semi-nomadic, chasing their main food sources, the aforementioned guanocos and choiques, back and forth across the otherwise barren scrubland. To mark their ownership of the cave and environs they painted their hands onto the rock walls.
Painted is a bit of a misnomer. They actually stenciled negative images by holding their hands against the rock and blowing through a hollow reed a mixture of natural mineral pigments. The different colors were made by blending different base components – iron oxides (for red and purple), kaolin (for white), natrojarosite (for yellow), and manganese oxide (for black). Some unknown binder was added to get it to stick to the rock. Given that the hands are still visible after many thousands of years, one has to wonder whether the inhabitants had permanently painted mouths.
While most of the artwork depicts the artists’ hand (notice that most are the left hand, suggesting that they, like us, were predominantly right handed), as the photo above shows, they also painted guanacos. Needless to say they didn’t hold a guanaco up to the wall and do stencils, so these animals are directly painted as positive images (though I admit, a bit stylistically). For the occasional choique footprint, again they could hold up the three-toed appendage (presumably without the 90-lb bird still attached) and blow pigments to create a stencil.
As I noted above, there were at least three waves of peoples who inhabited the caves over time. Initially you see only the masses of left hand stencils, but as you walk along the rock cut you see a gradual shift in the style and patterns of the artwork. More and more hunting scenes are visible, and near the far end you start to see stick-figure people, geometric shapes, and zigzag patterns.
Cueva de las Manos was a wonderful experience. The guide gave the tour in Spanish, but luckily Pablo and Juli took turns translating the highlights so we didn’t miss much (something to keep in mind if you travel down there without speaking the language). While the site is very remote, I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Now, only one more trek left today. All we have to do is hike back down into the valley, then back up the other side. See those white specks at the top of the ridge (just right of center)? That’s our car. I’m glad I brought a hiking stick.
David J. Kent is an avid science traveler and the author of Lincoln: The Man Who Saved America, now available. His previous books include Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity and Edison: The Inventor of the Modern World (both Fall River Press). He has also written two e-books: Nikola Tesla: Renewable Energy Ahead of Its Time and Abraham Lincoln and Nikola Tesla: Connected by Fate.
Check out my Goodreads author page. While you’re at it, “Like” my Facebook author page for more updates!
Follow me by subscribing by email on the home page. Share with your friends using the buttons below.
You’ve probably seen photographs of the Perito Moreno Glacier. One of the most photogenic glaciers in the world, the Perito Moreno is a site to behold. And behold we did. It was one of the final scenic stops on our trip to Patagonia in southern Argentina, and it was worth the wait. I took hundreds of photographs, so picking the few that I use below was difficult. There will be more in the future, but let’s at least get in some of the highlights. Driving along the Peninsula Magallanes, we rounded a turn and, as a group, in unison, all exclaimed, “Wow!,” as we saw this:
Unlike many of the glaciers we had already encountered on the trip, this one is both massive and dramatically intrudes onto the lakes. If you look closely at the photo above, near the shore in the middle right, you’ll see a boat. That boat is roughly the length of the boats that take you into the mist at Niagara Falls. Luckily there was no mist (as it would have been ice cubes), for we were about to go on that boat right up close to the south face of the glacier. The north face, which I’ll get to later in this piece, is just off the right side of the above photo. Staying on this side for now, this is what the south face looks like up close.
To give you some perspective, those mountains in the background are between 2100 and 3000 meters high (6900 to 9800 feet). The face of the glacier runs about 50-55 meters above the waterline (165-180 feet), but remember that most of an iceberg is below water? Well, the total depth of the ice is actually more like 150 meters (nearly 500 feet). To get a really intimate look we decided to nudge up closer:
Imagine that much ice hovering over your head. Here’s another close up shot:
You can see how uneven and ragged the surface is of the glacier. Even more amazing, you can hear it. There is constant groaning and popping and cracking from all over the glacier. Every so often a chunk falls off into the water. And by chunk I mean anything ranging from small (the size of your chair) to medium (your car) to large (your house).
Okay, enough of the south face. Let’s get back onshore and drive around the point to the front and north faces of the Perito Moreno glacier. Look back at the first photo in this post; we’re going off to the right, around that little point of land in the middle. This is the first view you’ll have when you arrive:
See that little gray rock outcropping in the middle back of the ice field (not the mountain in the background, the little jagged rocks with ice surrounding it). That point is 14 kilometers (almost 9 miles) from the front face of the glacier (which is in the foreground, partially hidden by trees). Here’s an overhead shot (complements of Wiki Commons) to give you an idea of how massive it is as the glacier fans out toward the shore.
The front face in my photo is the tiny edge that touches the land on the right side of the Wiki photo. The lower face is the south face that I showed you above from the boat. But let’s go around to the north face (top right in the Wiki photo).
In the photo above you can see where the front face (left) meets the north face (right). By this time (mid-February) the front of the glacier had separated from the land (see the exciting video below). The icebergs in the water are from pieces of the glacier that have calved (broken off), a process that occurs sporadically but constantly as the glacier creeps towards us from the distant mountains. And just to remind you of the size, that shoreline in the right background? It’s about 2.5 kilometers away (1.5 miles).
Okay, one more photo – a close up of the north face:
Since the name of this site is Science Traveler it’s virtually imperative that I mention the state of the glaciers in Argentina. The Perito Moreno glacier is one of 48 glaciers in the South Patagonia ice field (with many more in other ice field further north). Of those 48 glaciers, Perito Moreno is one of only three that is actually growing. Scientists aren’t entirely sure why this one is growing while 94% of the glaciers are shrinking, but any ice growth in an otherwise warming planet is good news [or not, since it’s likely the growth is due to changing weather patterns as a result of man-made climate change].
Another cool science bit for this glacier is the periodic rupturing it undergoes. Because of the unique flow pattern and geography of the region, the Perito Moreno glacier tends to push up against the shores of the Peninsula Magallanes (right in the Wiki photo). Usually the glacier melts back a bit during the summer (which was when I was there). But roughly every 4 to 5 years it creates an imbalance that results in a spectacular display. As the glacier blocks off the flow between the two arms of the lake, it raises the water level of the Brazo Rico as much as 30 meters (100 feet). The pressure caused by the weight of the water starts to strain the section of the glacier that has dammed it in. Eventually the ice is worn away enough to create an ice bridge. Slowly the combined stresses of forward moving glacier, downward water pressure, and seasonal melting cause big chunks (the house size) to fall out of the bridge. Until the whole thing collapses in a huge splash.
The last rupture in January of 2013, but the most magnificent rupture occurred in 2004 where, over the course of nine months, the ice dam formed, eroded, and eventually shattered. The video below documents the process.
I’ve provided only a handful of the many fantastic photos I took at the Perito Moreno glacier. I hope you got at least a small sense of the wonder of the location. It’s an experience I won’t soon forget. For more photos and stories of our trip to Argentina click here and scroll down.
Click to Barnes and Noble
Lincoln: The Fire of Genius: How Abraham Lincoln’s Commitment to Science and Technology Helped Modernize America is available at booksellers nationwide.
Limited signed copies are available via this website. The book also listed on Goodreads, the database where I keep track of my reading. Click on the “Want to Read” button to put it on your reading list. Please leave a review on Goodreads and Amazon if you like the book.
You also follow my author page on Facebook.
David J. Kent is President of the Lincoln Group of DC and the author of Lincoln: The Fire of Genius: How Abraham Lincoln’s Commitment to Science and Technology Helped Modernize America and Lincoln: The Man Who Saved America.
His previous books include Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity and Edison: The Inventor of the Modern World and two specialty e-books: Nikola Tesla: Renewable Energy Ahead of Its Time and Abraham Lincoln and Nikola Tesla: Connected by Fate.
The sign on the gravel road said “El Chaltén – 372 km.” Twenty minutes later, another sign many kilometers further along the same gravel road, again said “El Chaltén – 372 km.” This was already a long drive on a barely there road, even without the questionable signage. But it was worth it.
Three days into our Patagonian adventure we were headed for El Chaltén, the official Argentinian Trekking Capital. If you’re in El Chaltén it’s because you are there to hike into the mountains or you are there to support those who hike into the mountains. Nestled in the shadow of Cerro Fitz Roy within the confines of Los Glaciares National Park, this small village is all about trekking. And amazing scenery.
Arriving late after the long drive we checked into our cabaña, a wonderful log cabin complete with enough beds and hot showers for the five of us, a serviceable kitchen, and the most amazing wake-up view I’ve had in a long time.
A quick breakfast of toast and dulce de leche (caramelized milk, a staple delicacy in Argentina) and we were on our way to Fitz Roy, which along with Cerro Torre dominates the skyline. Following yet another gravel road meandering along the banks of the Rio de las Vueltas, we stopped several times for the gorgeous views in the crisp mountain air. We were blessed with a beautifully sunny day, a day that would be both memorable and long.
After an 18 km drive we parked near Hosteria El Pilar, a starting location that turned out to be fortuitous for our trip back. Hiking along the Rio Blanco we could see the three-peaked Fitz Roy beckoning us closer.
And closer we came. First we got near enough to see the Piedras Blancas glacier close up. This particular glacier flows from the cirque formed by Fitz Roy and continues to a lower level than glaciers we would see later. In the photo you can see Fitz Roy peeking over the hillock to the left, northeast of where Piedras Blancas reaches its small lake.
Like many glaciers worldwide, the Piedras Blancas glacier is retreating from its historical lengths. One feature that can be seen in the video below – a gorgeous glacial waterfall.
But our main goal was still ahead of us. Our trail totaled about 6 kilometers (each way). Most of the trail was easy hiking, but the last 1.4 kilometers were about as close to vertical as my legs could handle. At least a third of our four-hour trek to Fitz Roy was on this last section going up. What we found when we arrived was simply marvelous.
Sitting at the base of Fitz Roy’s main outcropping, which reaches an elevation of over 3400 meters (11,200 feet), is Lagos de los Tres. We were there in late summer (mid-February), so the glacier had retreated back from the edge of this greenish lake. Following along the lake to the left is another glacier, a waterfall, and another lake. The vista was so engaging that it was 5 pm before we started to think about the four hour hike back to where we parked. That hike ended up taking much longer due to a serious fall resulting in a story I later wrote called “The Break.”
Notwithstanding the added excitement, we had an amazing trek up to Cerro Fitz Roy and the various glaciers. An experience I won’t soon forget. Now, on to the next adventure.
David J. Kent is the author of Lincoln: The Man Who Saved America, scheduled for release in summer 2017. His previous books include Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity and Edison: The Inventor of the Modern World (both Fall River Press). He has also written two e-books: Nikola Tesla: Renewable Energy Ahead of Its Time and Abraham Lincoln and Nikola Tesla: Connected by Fate.
Follow me by subscribing by email on the home page. And feel free to “Like” my Facebook author’s page and connect on LinkedIn. Share with your friends using the buttons below.
I’ve recently returned from a science traveling expedition to Argentina. The trip was an incredible experience and I’ll be writing about it more here and elsewhere over the weeks. You can already read about drinking mate and other highlights beginning here (scroll for more).
The trip was a long time coming. I first met my friend Pablo in Connecticut in 1980, where we joined a dozen other students for a semester at the Bermuda Biological Station for Research. We’ve been friends ever since despite the distance, and he’s been inviting me to visit him in his native Argentina for many (many) years. This year I finally did it.
After two flights and more than 14 hours in the air, Ru and I arrived in Buenos Aires, the first time south of the equator for either of us. We would go a lot further south before we were finished, but first there was two rainy days in the capital. Buenos Aires is more European than South American, and seemed to want to copy other cities more than innovate. Then the real trip began. We flew to Bariloche. [Hover over each stop in the map below, and click on the arrow button to follow the travel route.]
Bariloche, to be exact, is San Carlos de Bariloche, in Rio Negro Province, the northernmost part of Patagonia. Pablo has been a Professor at the National University there for the last 25 years, where he is Director of the fisheries resources group. We arrived in the late morning of an extremely windy day in late-summer, a refreshing change from the long, cold, snowy winter of February back home. One night to relax, then off to begin a road trip that would end up being over 3500 kilometers.
I’ll talk more about them in future posts, but Bariloche and environs boasts two amazing geological features – mountains and lakes. The views were extraordinary. And yet, they were only a preamble to what we were about to experience.
Bariloche – Nahuel Huapi Lake
With short stops in the scenic towns of El Bolson (“the best ice cream in the world”) and Esquel, we drove some of the most inhospitable “roads” in Argentina. Called a highway, much of Ruta 40 is actually a long gravel road. Long as in we drove a couple of hundred kilometers on piles of rocks in which tracks were our only guide. Pablo’s previous explanation that he, like most Patagonians, had installed metal plates on the underside of his SUV, suddenly became all too rational. Besides the constant clanging of rocks, the road would often detour into oblivion. It reminded me how whiny we Americans can be over a few potholes. Perspective is everything.
In any case, we finally arrived at Los Antiguos after midnight, then couldn’t find our lodgings. Eventually the owner came to get us and we settled in for a short, but comfortable, rest before our next day’s adventure. After much awe at the surrounding mountains and lakes we headed over to the amazing colors of the rocky desert, where we stayed the night at the Estancia Cueva de las Manos (The Cave of the Hands Ranch).
Near Cueva de las Manos
We visited the actual caves the next morning. After a long 17-km drive on gravel roads, gawking at choiques (ostrich-like birds) and guanacos (llama-like camelids) along the way, we hiked down, then up, a deep valley to reach the amazing caves full of painted hands.
Cueva de las Manos
Another long drive split between paved and gravel roads brought us to El Chalten, the “Trekking National Capital” of Argentina. Dominating the skyline is Mount Fitz Roy, named after the captain of Darwin’s HMS Beagle. The five of us hiked over 5 kilometers, the last 1.4 km of which were essentially vertical, to reach the picturesque lake below the peak. Four of us hiked all the way back. Pablo hiked back all but the last couple of kilometers, after which he was carried out on a stretcher. But that’s a story for another post.
Mt. Fitz Roy is top right.
The next day we drove from El Chalten to El Calafate (well, Pablo’s daughter drove, I rode in the ambulance with Pablo), then spent a much needed relaxed night in a dormis, complete with an Argentine-style lamb cooked over an open fire. Then, the glacier.
Perito Moreno glacier
The Perito Moreno glacier may be the most famous glacier in the world. It’s massive. And better yet, it is situated such that it splits two lakes and pushes up against an accessible island where visitors can get up close. As the glacier retreats slightly during the summer melt, it provides a front-row seat for thousands of people to see huge chunks of ice calving off the face. A truly unforgettable experience.
All of this so far occurred in just one week of traveling. The final week was less busy – a long two-plus day drive across lower Patagonia, up the coast, and back to Bariloche for several days of local flavor. Twice I came close to going into Chile (within a few kilometers at one point), but that pleasure will have to wait until my next visit.
And there will be a next visit. Pablo and I have begun discussing possibilities that would result in more frequent visits on my part. Besides seeing Chile I also still need to get to Argentina’s Iguazu Falls, the Mendoza wine region (I love malbec), and Ushuaia (the southernmost city in the world).
Come back for more detailed stories and photos from the trip. You won’t want to miss them.
David J. Kent is an avid traveler and the author of Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity. You can order a signed copy directly from me, download the ebook at barnesandnoble.com, and find hard copies exclusively at Barnes and Noble bookstores.
Follow me by subscribing by email on the home page. And feel free to “Like” my Facebook author’s page and connect on LinkedIn. Share with your friends using the buttons below.
The pronunciation of “mate,” by the way, is MAH-Tay. Mate is a tea-like infusion made from the Yerba plant (pronounced Jerba). And it was one of the highlights of my recent trip to Argentina.
While not as formalized as the Japanese tea ceremony, or as regimented as the British tea time, the drinking of mate is a cultural phenomenon in Argentina and other parts of South America. It exemplifies and strengthens the social bond between friends. Why? Because you share the same cup.
Gourd, actually. The “cup” is actually a hollowed out gourd, often decorated with leather and metal rims or other designs. Everyone also drinks through the same metal straw called a bombilla.
Before we drink, let’s back up a bit. Unlike tea leaves, Yerba is an evergreen shrub, a species of holly. It has been sipped for centuries by native populations of South America. Like tea, yerba is dried and cut into small pieces. It is then steeped in hot, but not boiling, water. The temperature is important. Boiling the water brings out the bitterness of the Yerba plant, a taste that most non-Argentinians probably wouldn’t like. Hot water – about 80°C – is perfect for enhancing the flavor of mate without “burning” the leaves.
The social context of drinking mate is also important. Sharing mate is an act of hospitality. A single person takes on the responsibilities of the cebador (or cebadora), the preparer of the mate for that session. After drinking the first gourd-full or two, the cebador refills the gourd with water and passes it to the next person, who drinks it down fully. The gourd is returned to the cebador, who refills and passes to the next in line. The yerba leaves remain for each gourd-full, only the water is refilled each time. After each person gets their drink, the circuit repeats for as long as people want mate – or the hot water runs out.
If someone no longer wants any mate, they simply say gracias (thank you) when they hand back the gourd.
The drinking of mate is so ingrained in the Argentinian culture that travelers can be assured that any suitable establishment (restaurants, bars, even gas stations) will happily refill your mate thermos with the correct temperature water, for free. Naturally caffeinated, the mate was a welcome companion as we traveled nearly 3500 kilometers by car around Patagonia. More importantly, mate exemplified the friendships, old and new, forged on this trip. I’m looking forward to returning to see more of Argentina and South America. I thank my old friend Pablo and his two daughters for showing us such a wonderful time…and also for the best gift I could have asked for – a mate gourd and mate to take home.
I’ll have much more on my Argentina adventure. If you missed them, check out my photos from the road here, here, here, and here.
More travel related posts here.
Check out my Goodreads author page. While you’re at it, “Like”my Facebook author page for more updates!
David J. Kent is an avid science traveler and the author of Lincoln: The Man Who Saved America, in Barnes and Noble stores now. His previous books include Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity (2013) and Edison: The Inventor of the Modern World (2016) and two e-books: Nikola Tesla: Renewable Energy Ahead of Its Time and Abraham Lincoln and Nikola Tesla: Connected by Fate.
I’m still out science traveling in Argentina with access by iPhone only. Yesterday I toured around the lake in Bariloche. One of the more interesting aspects was the remnants of the big 2011 volcanic eruption from Chile (the border is only a few kilometers from here).
See that sand alongside the stream? It’s not sand. It’s pumice from the volcano.
The ash was so thick it raised water levels for months. The water covered the roots of the stream side trees, hence the dead trees in the picture below.
On the lake itself the pumice, volcanic rock that is lighter than water, floats.
The beach of the lake is more pumice, at least 10-20 cm of it. That’s my host hopping across the ash/sand. And yes, there’s a story behind the broken leg. I’ll cover that when I get back to the states.
That’s all for now. Keep in mind these photos are all from my iPhone; the best photos are on the other two cameras. So much more to come.
David J. Kent is the author of Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity and Edison: The Inventor of the Modern World (both Fall River Press). He has also written two e-books: Nikola Tesla: Renewable Energy Ahead of Its Time and Abraham Lincoln and Nikola Tesla: Connected by Fate. His next book, Lincoln: The Man Who Saved America, is scheduled for release in summer 2017.
Follow me by subscribing by email on the home page. And feel free to “Like” my Facebook author’s page and connect on LinkedIn. Share with your friends using the buttons below.
Well, I’ve arrived in Buenos Aires. Here is my first view coming in on the plane.
As you can see, the weather isn’t exactly cooperating. Overcast yesterday afternoon when I took this photos. Today is something out of Noah – flashes of lightning, huge crashes of thunder, and rain that fluctuates between steady light and demonstrable deluge.
From yesterday, a monument in Plaza de Mayo.
So far the city is more European than South American. First it seemed like Greece or Rome.
The Casa Rosada (Pink House) is where Evita made her famous song (or was that Madonna).
A cool bridge that is supposed to capture the sweeping arms and legs of tango dancers. You have to have a good imagination here.
Other locations had an obelisk that looked like the Washington monument in an intersection that looked like a mini Times Square. Then a pedestrian shopping street with people constantly hawking “cambrio,” which reminded me so much of Nanjing East Road in Shanghai I wanted to reply Bu Yao.
More when I can get access.
Abraham Lincoln Historian, Scientist, Traveler
Click book for immediate download on Amazon.com
Click book for immediate download on Amazon.com
