Gobernador Gregores, Argentina (19,112 kilometers – 11,876 miles)
Apologies to everyone who may or may not be thinking we are being interrogated at length by Patagonian pumas, but we are not. Instead, we have been in the middle of this on two-wheeled bicycles…
There really has not been much time to find wifi. Slightly more important has been doing our damndest for the good part of 2 days to find “a” road here in the mountains between the borders of Chile and Argentina…
Which we found here…
And carried on with absolutely no monotony on this…
So instead of blabbering on about every last detail of the last few weeks, we are going to suck on our beer and or wine this evening, thaw our feet and pass out for a month.
Stay tuned for the final 1,000 kilometers or so.
This is Vicente Miranda Sepulveda. He is 5. He is curious. He can be thrown around like a stuffed animal. He looks darling in my Andean’ish headband. He burns through camera batteries like shitty cigarettes. He lives in a tiny town outside of Coihaique, Chile called El Blanco. He doesn’t like too much milk in the morning.
Most importantly, he earned himself the prestigious title of benefactor to the $50 “Watson Family Dowry Fund,” (not quite the official title) that was generously initiated by my brothers and sisters-in-law to be donated to whomever and as however I see fit. We met him while trying to hibernate in an old shack for the night. He must have seen us scout this locale because he promptly barged in and rattled off 312 questions about everything imaginable. His smile lit up the room and warmed my bones. In a flash, he was off with a “don’t go to sleep yet…I will be back” demand. Within 5 minutes he was back, with warm salmon empanadas his mother had crafted. This earned him the small Watson scholarship and I insisted he tell his mom this is your tip.
As I thought, this gesture of money for no real reason to these unthinkably kind people would be met with question. Therefore, we were forcefully dragged back to Vincent’s incredibly modest home of no more than a wood stove, tin walls, and too much fried bread to handle, where the three of us were to spend the evening. It was in no more words, perfect.
Ryan, Chad, Abs and Kathryn….the Miranda Sepulvedas and Vicente especially, thank you. His hysterical sobbing upon our departure the next morning assured me that he and his family were the appropriate selection.
Love you guys.