I made it to El Chaltén, 49 degrees S, 73 degrees W. It's an amazing little, chilled town surrounded up close by mountains and glaciers. You can see Mount Fitz Roy from town, and almost touch it. Even though January Is the height of the tourist season it doesn't feel half as crowded as any beach or ski town - partially because of the gauntlet to get here. There are two options, plane or bus.
I took the bus - a 28 hour experience through some of the remotest country I've ever seen. Patagonia is a desolate place. The Andes are on the west, and the ocean is on the east, in the middle is a dry, empty, flat, wind torn, sun scorched swath of land with bare horizons on either side. But it was beautiful in its own right - I saw many llamas and ostriches along the way.
I saw very few cars though. The roads were dirt, sometimes only appearing half constructed, leaving our bus to travel at a crawl for parts. It turned out to be a bone yard, both for literal bones (which litter Patagonia), and for cars. We passed fewer than ten cars outside the few small towns early on, but we did come across two broken down further on which we stopped, got out and offered assistance for. The first car had apparently rolled (the two occupants were fine), and we helped change two tires and push it back on the road. The second was a car with its front axle broken. We moved the car to the side of the road and shuttled the stranded folks further along.
Needless to say, when we finally turned west and the Andes began to appear, it was a blessing. The mountains appeared suddenly, big black rock with clear, crisp white snow on their upper flanks, glaciers filling valleys and bowls. The tops of the peaks were hidden beneath mist and clouds. But then for the next few days, everything shinned magnificently.
I enjoyed the weather, and spent some time hiking and camping.
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