For us, the South American skiing experience usually begins at an airport far away from South America. This is followed by a 15-hour flight, a bus ride (or two) that is at least as long, dusty, foreign cities and people who talk far too fast for you to understand them in meagre tourist Spanish...
This is my third winter in Argentina...
...and I have since learned that a certain relaxed attitude is required to be happy here. The clocks run slower, precise planning is as utopian as it is pointless and if you miss the connecting bus again, you just sleep on your ski bag - after all, you don't drag it around for nothing. Anyone who stays here for any length of time will either develop a fairly unshakeable sense of calm, the zen of Argentinian travelers, or a stomach ulcer.
After a thorough survey of my local informants, I decide to avoid Patagonia for the time being due to the lack of snow and make my way from Buenos Aires to Mendoza. From here, I continue up the winding pass road towards Chile to Los Penitentes. The tiny village lies at 2,500 meters and is mainly populated by Argentinian tourists who visit the small ski resort. There are hardly any wide skis or touring bindings, but lots of families and entertaining chaos on the beginner lifts. I meet two friends who immediately want to go on a long tour to Cerro Falsa Las Leñas, a 4000-metre peak that towers over the ski resort. We don't quite make it to the summit, but enjoy a good 1000 vertical meters of Andean powder.
I had actually planned to stay longer
There's enough to do, but my companions, spoiled by the Canadian snow masses, want to go to Vallecitos - and I can't turn down the luxury of a lift in their four-wheel drive rental car. Despite rumors of an extremely dry start to the season there, we set off fully loaded.
Vallecitos is used by many ambitious Aconcagua climbers as a base for acclimatization tours in the nearby La Plata massif. The collection of huts and the rickety old chairlift are located at almost 3,000 meters in the shadow of 5,000-metre peaks such as the Cerro Rincón, an imposing rock face - criss-crossed by couloirs that make skiers' hearts beat faster.
Unfortunately, there really is hardly any snow here and apart from a few day trippers with plastic sledges, we are the only ones who have come here with winter sports intentions. After two days in the extremely cozy Refugio San Bernardo and a few tours that are as impressive in terms of scenery as they are terrible in terms of skiing, we drive back to Mendoza. The dreams of the potential lines with 2 meters more snow will stay with us for a while.
In search of better snow conditions
We continue to Las Leñas, where things actually look better in this respect. Skiing here stands and falls with the wind. When the lifts, or rather the legendary and particularly susceptible Marte chairlift, are running, the developed terrain is hard to beat in terms of expanse and an abundance of steep, aesthetic lines. I'm almost glad that Marte is mostly shut down during my week here, so I don't have to fret about missing out on powder because the 190 peso day tickets are beyond my budget. I make do with occasional, secret lift poaches, coming down from the top after a tour, quite possible. Contrary to first appearances, Las Leñas is quite suitable for wannabe skibums on a budget like me, all it takes is a little willingness to walk and a lack of pretension when it comes to accommodation.
The touring options here are also more or less endless. The blisters I got in Penitentes develop into festering holes in my heels and after a few forced marches with the Canadians, I take it a little easier. The mountains along the road below the ski resort and the hotel complexes offer a lot of potential and I find a few lines here for the next few days, which I trudge up at a more relaxed pace and with extended midday sunbathing. The sky is blue, the snow powdery, the mountains beautiful and I enjoy the solitude of the Andes, which is not even disturbed by airplanes or traffic, let alone other skiers.
