At the beginning of my trip to South America, the situation is bleak. The north is drying out and the south is sinking into the mud. At least the base in Bariloche is usable and it's not the first time I've had to sit out bad weather here. I'm good at waiting and drinking tea and otherwise all I need is a little faith in God that it will eventually get the necessary few degrees colder and one day you wake up and there's a meter of snow on your doorstep.
So it turns out and this time we are compensated for the rain with a perfect week: No clouds, no wind, cold, stable snow. Matt and Chris, two new friends, keep me company for a few days and together we make our way through steep streams, dense bamboo thickets and overgrown hiking trails towards the powder.
At the end of the day, Chris discovers a small spine line at Cerro Lopez that he really wants to ride. Barely more than 100 vertical meters, free run-out and around 60 degrees. Chris laughs as I struggle inelegantly with my sluff. I should come to Alaska to practise. There's more of this kind of thing there and there's not as much in the way as here...
After an arduous ascent through a stream bed, the next day we find similarly playful terrain and spectacular views of the lake landscape at Cerro Padre Laguna. Unfortunately, we only have time for one run on the more than inviting backside before we have to cross the stream back to the car.
Directly opposite the ski resort is Cerro Bella Vista, a mountain full of aesthetic spines and couloirs and an ideal projection surface for freerider fantasies. In the Alps, I probably wouldn't even think of skiing a face like this in the height of winter, but here, praise be to the maritime climate, nothing at all moves during our snow cover tests. The perfect descent allows us to more or less overlook the subsequent tricky scrambling down small waterfalls in the bamboo jungle.
Every powder dream comes to an end and the Argentinean ups and downs of the weather start all over again: a trip to Refugio Italia turns into a card game marathon after light, but unfortunately very persistent rain sets in during the first night. The hut is relatively remote and not staffed in winter, but would make a great base if conditions were good. Through gaps in the clouds, beautiful alpine lines can always be glimpsed in the immediate vicinity.
Alternative program Patagonia
The absence of drivable snow invites you to take a road trip. I've always wanted to go further south and Jeff, a taciturn heli guide from Alaska, thinks he's up for an adventure too. After stops with moderate snow in El Bolson and Esquel, two days later we drive around 500 km through the pampas and across the border to Coihaique.
I have been told several times that "La verdadera Patagonia" - the real Patagonia - begins south of Esquel. In the 10 hours or so it takes us to complete the journey, we meet about 10 other cars. The few villages seem out of place in the nothingness of the steppe. We ask ourselves why people live here, what they do and what they do for a living. The small towns could just as easily be the backdrop for a modern gaucho romance or a bloody splatter horror in which the screams of the victims echo unheard in the dusty streets. As beautiful as the nature, the pale colors, the flamingos and Ñandús are, we feel more at home in the mountains.
Coihaique is the sleepy capital of the Aisén region. With around 40,000 inhabitants, it is home to less than half the population of Aisén, a region that is roughly the size of Bavaria and Baden-Württemberg combined.