A long, long time ago (in March), two frenchies, one argentino, and one gringa chinita, ventured off from the Patagonian hamlet of Chalten northbound into the unknown along the infamous Ruta 40. In the hustle and bustle of our crowded hostel, Herman and I spontaneously decided to become 'high-chicken' buddies and thumb our way north along the Carretera Austral and conned (I mean asked) our French hostel-mates if they would be our first ride. Skeptical at first about the possibility of Tetrising the two of us (plus our packs) into the backseat of their tiny 2-door rental, we managed quite well in the end, and for a memorable day and a half, roadtripped north together until our junction. Little did Herman and I know our first real stop would be in the middle of no where, freezing cold, windy, and after half an hour...rainy too! Well, the hopeless optimism of us travelers carried us through the journey, and four months later, Team Ruta 40 reconvened in BsAs to share stories, laugh about good times, and celebrate the open road!
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