We left El Bolson saying, “peace out, hippies” as we boarded our bus for the seven hour journey north to San Martin de los Andes. We both woke up that day with colds, which I blame on our dirty airbnb apt and I’m pretty sure I also had a mild fever. With that said, the bus was comfortable and our seats were on the upper level so we had great views of the Andes and lots of blue mountain lakes.

I slept most of the way (as I do), but Harry poked me awake when a national guard and his drug-sniffing dog got on board. It was pretty crazy to see a twenty-something guy being escorted off the bus. Everyone was murmuring, wondering what would happen to him. Twenty minutes later he got back on board with a shit-eating grin and the bus continued on. It was obviously his lucky day.

San Martin de los Andes

San Martin is a truly lovely and picturesque mountain town sitting at the foot of the Andes on the beautiful Lake Lacar. Argentinians from all over flock to San Martin for outdoor activities like snow skiing, hiking and water sports. We were going to stay for three days but ended up doubling our time there since being sick slowed us way down. We needed time to rest before we could venture out and explore.

Oxen and Geese 

One sunny afternoon we hiked up a dry and dusty trail for a bird’s-eye view of San Martin and Lake Lacar. The trail wound its way through land of the Mapuche, one of the aboriginal people of Patagonia. We were almost to the top when we heard a chainsaw, and as we got closer, we heard a man yelling. We weren’t sure what was going on but it soon became clear. There was a Mapuche man cutting timber and he had two large oxen loaded up with a huge log. The trio was wedged into the mountainside above us on a steep hill preparing to advance onto the narrow trail. They were about to come our way so we took off running, seriously worried that we might get trampled.

We made it to safety, totally out of breath, when we saw a couple of hikers coming down the mountain. Using broken Spanish and many hand gestures, we tried to explain the danger that loomed just a short way down the trail. Looking completely confused the woman asked if we spoke English. Ha! We retold the story using English and went on our way.

A short time later, we reached the top of the trail. We heard some boys whooping and hollering and saw a dust storm ahead. What now, we wondered? We were still feeling edgy from the oxen incident. All of a sudden a gaggle of panicked geese ran our way, desperately trying to escape from the boys who were chasing them. Our hearts were racing and I about died laughing at Harry as he screamed and jumped out of the way.

We had enough excitement for the day, don’t you think? {spoiler alert: keep reading} We found the vista and hunkered down on some big rocks to take in the beauty surrounding us.

On the way back down the mountain, we saw a pile of logs and remarked that the man and his oxen had been busy. We kept our eyes and ears open, hoping to see them in action. Sure enough, we heard him yelling and saw dust rising down the path. We were a little apprehensive about hiking down but the man yelled out for us to pass by. The trio was about to embark back up the trail with another log.

We were amazed to witness the antiquated logging technique that used oxen, yolks and chains. This was practically a scene right out of “Farmer Boy” by Laura Ingalls Wilder. When they laboriously started moving up the path, I turned around to take a picture. Just then, the log slipped and careened down on top of the black ox’s back leg, causing both oxen to bellow and stomp. The man was the Oxen Whisperer as he calmed them down and coaxed them into motion back up the trail.

 Tara’s Family

A highlight of our time in San Martin was connecting with my friend Tara’s family. Her brother Ron and his Argentinian wife Vanessa have lived in San Martin and Montana for over 15 years. They own and operate Chocolate Lab Expeditions, a fly fishing company. Their two beautiful kids are bilingual. Tara’s parents happened to be visiting town, so they had us over for dinner. We laughed as we exchanged funny stories about life in Argentina. Such a great night!

El Bolson is Argentina’s happy little hippy community. It’s also the country’s hops capital where 75% of its hops are grown. Nestled in the mountains at the foothills of the Andes, folks come to visit and get drawn into the beautiful location and slower pace of life. Harry’s been dreaming about El Bolson since he first read about it months ago, so what better place for us to spend his birthday weekend than in El Bolson?

Luckily, the bus ride from Esquel north to El Bolson was only two short hours, so we arrived midday with a spring in our step, ready to explore. The best part (and the only good part) of our Airbnb stay was having Aldo pick us up at the bus station to give us a ride to our new home. We definitely won’t be nominating his bachelor pad rental for Best in Show.

Hippyville

What a cute little town, indeed. El Bolson is the Eugene, Oregon of Argentina. We went to the artisan market on Saturday and Sunday and enjoyed walking around, people watching. There were families and stray dogs and wafting scents of you-know-what at every turn. Lots of smiling faces, the prerequisite drum circle and plenty of fresh fruit juices (which is a rarity in Argentina). We had some really good food and Harry enjoyed a locally brewed beer (again, a rarity).

 Lago Puelo National Park 

We spent Harry’s birthday (March 21st) at Lago Puelo, a beautiful mountain lake only a half-hour bus ride outside town. After sunning ourselves on the beach for a while, we felt a hankering for adventure, so we set off with our shoes in hand to cross the first of many shallow rivers flowing into the lake.

We quickly realized that walking on wet stones with bare feet was more painful and slippery than exciting, so we ended up just keeping our hiking shoes on and getting wet. This tactic made more sense in that we moved quicker, and we looked more hardcore (not that anyone was looking). After following a dirt trail for a short while, we decided to create our own path with our own rules. Rule #1: when there’s a fence, climb over it. Rule #2: when there’s a river, walk through it. Rule #3: when there’s private property, ignore it. Rule #4: when it’s your birthday, do as you wish.

We eventually found ourselves back at the national park entrance feeling elated, pretty sneaky and very soggy. Off-roading in Patagonia, yes!

Harry’s Birthday 

Look, a birthday cake! No, I didn’t make it, and no, I didn’t buy it. But I did take a secret photo of it and showed it to Harry at just the right moment. He thought it was a pretty thoughtful gesture. And the beer? Well, this guy likes his beer and drinking a chilled artisan brew in Argentina’s hippy town made him pretty darn happy. Cheers to many more birthdays and beers, Harry!