My time in Chile was so quick that I can give you a play by play. It started with a short stretch of dirt track before reaching the first paved road I had seen in nearly two weeks. Turning right here would drop me 6500 feet in 30 miles to San Pedro in the Atacama desert. Going left would take me to Argentina. I wanted to go to Argentina but to get my Chile entrance stamp I needed to go to San Pedro. It was not a hill I was excited about climbing back up but I didn't seem to have a choice. I had just started toward San Pedro when Tori, a New Zealand cyclist that I had met briefly in Columbia, crested the hill coming toward me. We stopped to say hello and he informed there is a Chile immigrations office at the Argentina border too. With that I turned around and joined him heading towards Argentina.
It was a day and a half ride to the border. We camped one night in a national park dotted with rock towers. They were fascinating to look at and served as a nice wind block. It was another cold night but we were slowly descending toward the Argentina border and, I was hoping, warmer weather.
When I got to the border I handed over my passport. The border agent that gives the exit stamps looked at my passport and asked where my entrance stamp was. In broken Spanish I explained my situation. He was unimpressed but with a little pleading the border agents decided to let me through with no entrance or exit stamps for Chile. The Argentina agent gave me a stamp with a smile and I was on my way. My shortest visit to a country yet.
Chile wildlife. A wolf? Or a warm fox? I'm not sure.
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