A date with glory (and the clouds)
It is not a simple journey. Nor is it a mere journey to follow. It is neither a statistic, nor just another destination on the personal bucket list. It is about going further, about finding meaning in our existence.
To travel along the legendary Route 40 is to achieve glory, it is to get into the truck, hold on to the present and feel more alive than ever. The joy is full, the adrenaline blasphemes the fibers of the routine and transforms them into a chaotic universe, but with a clear horizon: the summit.
The chronicle of this adventure began in Curitiba, the capital of the Brazilian state of Paraná. In one of the many green spaces of that ecological city, Raí, Ernesto and Osiris planned a new trip in their Honda CG 160. The destination? Argentina. They had already done National Route 3, from Buenos Aires to Ushuaia, and part of National Route 40 in Patagonia, passing through the incredible Seven Lakes Road, among other places of interest.
This time, the plan included Route 40 again, but in the northern region of Argentina. The idea was to combine wines (off-road, of course), landscapes and adventure. So they decided that they would leave Curitiba and head for Cafayate, a destination known for the quality of its estates and wines, especially Torrontés (native vines) in the south of the province of Salta. The ultimate goal was to make the crossing of the 40 from the aforementioned Cafayate to La Quiaca, in the province of Jujuy.
Wonderful entrance
They left Curitiba, went south, and entered Argentina through Bernardo de Yrigoyen, a border city in Misiones, a province known for being home to the famous Iguazu Falls, one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World.
Once settled in Cafayate, they looked for a good place to rest for a couple of nights and enjoy this iconic tourist spot, between vineyards and mountains. The palace of rest was Patios de Cafayate, just removed from the center of the town. With colonial architecture and pristine elegance, two moons in Patios served not only to recharge batteries, but to fully enjoy the experience of an unforgettable place. A furious sun, wine of the highest quality paired with the classic empanadas from Salta and relaxation. Cafayate is a synonym of good life.
Before taking Route 40 north, the group of friends stopped at a mechanic workshop to do a general checkup of their motorbikes. There, between mates and an old radio –which transmitted catchy tunes, though– they were attended by Funes, a man close to 80 years old, who lived through all the eras of the town. He spoke just enough, strictly the necessary, but he showed much kindness, a very typical characteristic in these latitudes.
Amazing formations
With the motorbikes ready for the breakaway, the next stop would be in Molinos. To get there, the dirt road gave them one of the great masterpieces of nature in northern Argentina: the Quebrada de las Flechas. Amazing and shocking. A surreal landscape to take a thousand and one photos. Raí, who had good knowledge of photography, took longer than his travel mates to take pics in search of the perfect angle.
Before nightfall, the motorcyclists from southern Brazil arrived in Molinos to settle in the Hacienda de Molinos hotel. Enchanted by the warmth of the service, the three felt as if they were starring in the movie The Mission or The Name of the Rose. Both the ranch and the town have a very powerful mystique and the Brazilians grasped it as soon as they arrived.
A breakfast of champions -always with dulce de leche included- and back on the road. The gravel was never a problem, quite the opposite. It added adrenaline and spiced up the experience. Remember that the main idea was not to travel for the sake of it, but to find life within life, to raise the spirit to unfathomable skies. And they were doing so.
Salta clouds
They had lunch –a milanesa sandwich with ham, cheese and egg– in Cachi. Before entering the charming town, travelers would say in unison, “a photo with Juan Calchaquí!”, the imposing monument to the Indian that welcomes you. The church, the museum with its beautiful recess, the square and its typical buildings mesmerized the Brazilians, who wouldn’t stop talking with the locals.
They had to reach San Antonio de los Cobres before the end of the day. The altitude was beginning to affect them, but the adventure was becoming more epic. The temperature gradually fell below 0 degrees. However, inside the coquettish Hotel of the Clouds, the heat of its walls chased away any hint of cold.
The next day, the last chapter of Salta held a real feat of engineering and transportation: the Train to the Clouds. Opened in 1948 as a freight train, in 1972 it became what is now known as one of the world's tallest tourist trains. Seven carriages for 460 passengers. Among them were Raí, Ernesto and Osiris, who were spellbound all the way, recording with their cameras as the train passed through the famous La Polvorilla viaduct, at more than 4220 meters high. "Wonderful, incredible!" they agreed.
In Jujuy
Goodbye, Salta; hello Jujuy. After passing under the iconic viaduct, the 40 adds more gravel and winding paths to the road reel. The motorcycles took a break and refueled in Susques, a town with no more than 2,000 inhabitants and that, at the time the Brazilians arrived –3 p.m.–, was empty, nobody was seen in the street. Fortunately, a small market was open to buy some restorative sweets and plenty of water. A funny observation: they always found dogs playing in the street in every town.
They would spend the night at the Hostal Rincón de Cusi, a warm refuge in Cusi Cusi, but before resting the warrior spirit, they stopped to take several drone shots -Raí had a very modern one- in the Valley of the Moon. The compass in the veins of each of the three friends indicated the access to glory. Just as it was in the Train to the Clouds, in the Quebrada de las Flechas or in the endless gravel, the Valley was another of the inexplicable apotheoses of the trip.
The men of Curitiba were not very fond of mate, but with Rubén -owner of the hostel in Cusi Cusi- they had such a good time that they experienced several rounds of mate during breakfast.
The last stop of the feat would be in La Quiaca. Strong coats and an unbreakable helmet to face the 15 degrees below zero, the temperature in the Puna this morning (Route 40 is a serious adventure).
In another of the inevitable detours –Argentinian nature is an endless number of photographic possibilities– the travelers had heard about the Farallón de Cabrería. And that's where they went. Each step that brought them closer to the Farallón was a perfect sequence of mountain kaleidoscopes. The motorcycles were filled with dirt, but more so did they fill their souls knowing they were living an unrepeatable existence.
Full Orchestra Final
It was something supreme, but even more so was reaching the Farallón, a giant wall that dignifies erosion and the movement of plates. Majestic, although the adjective imperial fits it better.
Goodbye to the physical image of the Farallón –it will remain forever in their retinas –and back to the 40 to finally reach La Quiaca. The Brazilians thought they had reached the northernmost point of Argentina, but Luis, a high school teacher, who kindly took a photo of them at the milestone indicating the end of National Route 40, told them that there were other towns even further north.
Beyond the demystification, nothing tarnished the joy of such a trip that reinvented the friendship between them, put them to the test on the motorcycle and marveled them with the familiar towns and landscapes.
Glory has neither compassion nor shortcuts. It is reached by the paths glory itself sets or it is definitely lost. It has nothing to do with money, or anything like it. It is a matter of breaking your veins, clenching your molars and crossing the infinity of the impossible. All that and more is what Route 40 awakens in you.