Cycling Argentina’s Route 40, Part 2: Buta Ranquil to Mendoza
7 April - 22 May 2025
7 April - Buta Ranquil to Barrancas (22.0 mi, 35.4 km)
8 April - Layover in Barrancas
9 April - Barrancas to Ranquil del Norte (16.6 mi, 26.7 km)
10 April - Wind day in Ranquil del Norte
11 April - Ranquil del Norte to Río Grande Wild Camp (31.0 mi, 49.9 km)
12 April - Río Grande Wild Camp to El Manzano Wild Camp (25.8 mi, 41.5 km)
13 April - El Manzano Wild Camp to Bardas Blancas (19.3 mi, 31.1 km)
14 April - Wind day in Bardas Blancas
15 April - Bardas Blancas to Malargüe (41.5 mi, 66.8 km)
16-18 April - Layover in Malargüe
19 April - Malargüe to El Sosneado (32.8 mi, 52.8 km)
20 April - El Sosneado to Río Diamanté Wild Camp (41.3 mi, 66.5 km)
21 April - Río Diamanté Wild Camp to Río Papagayos Wild Camp (31.6 mi, 50.9 km)
22 April - Río Papagayos Wild Camp to Eugenio Bustos (32.8 mi, 52.8 km)
23 April - Eugenio Bustos to Ugarteche (41.8 mi, 67.3 km)
24 April - Ugarteche to Mendoza (25.7 mi, 41.4 km)
25 April-22 May - Layover in Mendoza
Farewell to Patagonia
As we crested a hill in the early morning light, a broad, brown valley spread out ahead of us. Between us and the iron-gray hills in the distance, a silver strip of river meandered along the otherwise-parched valley floor. Yet this watercourse carried more significance than others we had followed in our journey across Argentina. That’s because the Colorado River (yes, there is at least one other well known Colorado River) is recognized by some as the northern boundary of Patagonia - the country’s wild southern frontier. On the far side of the river sat the region called Cuyo - Argentina’s wine country.
Our first view of the Colorado River, which marked the boundary between the regions of Patagonia (to the south) and Cuyo (to the north). Route 40, North of Buta Ranquil, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
From a practical standpoint, the river forms the border between the Argentinian provinces of Neuquén (where we were) and Mendoza (where we were going next). Over the centuries this natural boundary has come to represent a range of cultural, political, economic and social differences between the regions of Patagonia and Cuyo.
Patagonia’s identity is rooted in its frontier past. Small, isolated, ranching communities were built by ruggedly independent gauchos descended from a mix of Northern European (German, English and Welsh) and nomadic indigenous cultures.
Cuyo, on the other hand, is known first and foremost for its wine production. A relative abundance of water running down from the Andes, combined with plentiful sunshine and fertile soils, has nurtured agricultural communities whose traditions revolved around the seasons for planting and harvesting. Culturally, Cuyo’s inhabitants are more likely to trace their roots to Spanish, Italian or French ancestors, enhancing the region’s Mediterranean feel.
We spent our final day in Patagonia cycling parallel to the river, on the cusp of change between these two iconic regions. Within a half hour of departing Buta Ranquil, we plunged more than 500 ft (150 m) to the Colorado River Valley floor.
A rare, rocky outcrop along the side of the road seemed to lure faithful Christians into decorating it with small shrines. Route 40, North of Buta Ranquil, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A Variable Hawk rested in a bush not far from the road. Route 40, North of Buta Ranquil, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Taking a break on our way down into the Colorado River Valley. Route 40, North of Buta Ranquil, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
About two hours into our ride, we encountered a lovely surprise. A ribbon of uncharacteristically green vegetation cut a path across the road, where a small stream tumbled out of the hills on its way to the Colorado River. In the shade of the tallest trees someone had built a rest stop, complete with concrete picnic tables, barbecue grills and rustic bathrooms. The presence of some rubber hoses indicated that the trees were being watered. And a path led from the picnic area down to a swimming hole in the stream. This was all very unusual - we hadn’t seen anything else like it since entering Argentina. As we rested at a table in the shade, we said a little ‘thank you’ to whoever had created this oasis in the desert.
It certainly was a treat for us to take a break there. When we were crossing the United States by bicycle back in 2018, we met a man in Missouri who had personally built a rest area for the public. It was located at a swimming hole he was very fond of - since he grew up swimming there as a kid. We wondered if the backstory of this rest area was similar.
View of the Buta Có River from the little, roadside, picnic area. The stream provided a pleasant backdrop for a rest stop. Route 40, South of Barrancas, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
When we rolled into the village of Barrancas (pop.1,440), our final stop in Patagonia, we were immediately struck by the prevalence of stonework around town. A number of carved stone monuments were prominently displayed near road intersections and in the central plaza. It seemed likely that there might be a quarry nearby.
This carving near the entrance to town was one of many stone works of art displayed in the village. We definitely got the feeling that there was a limestone quarry nearby. Route 40, Barrancas, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Although we hadn’t seen stone carvings like that in other towns we passed through, it wasn’t particularly surprising that there would be a quarry in the mountains surrounding Barrancas. However, we were quite surprised to see a large number of lumber trucks rumbling through town. Outside of the immediate vicinity of the town’s buildings, there were no trees to be seen anywhere - not even in the nearby foothills. Judging from the evidence, there must have been a forest close enough to Barrancas to support a lumber business. But even on satellite images it didn’t look like there were any trees. So the source of all that lumber remained a bit of a mystery.
We saw multiple logging trucks rolling through the small village of Barrancas. It struck us as odd, since we hadn’t seen any trees to speak of (outside of human settlements) for many days. Route 40, Barrancas, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
After settling into one of the three rooms at the town’s modest hotel, we went over to a well-known, travelers’ restaurant out along the highway. You can imagine our delight when we discovered that they were actually open, even though it was during the usual, Argentinian afternoon siesta break. Best of all, they gladly served us two huge, and delicious milanesa platters. We were set for the evening.
Ready to enjoy a hearty milanesa platter after a day of cycling. Route 40, Barrancas, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Rural businesses in Argentina often use handmade signs to attract customers and convey essential information - like this one for a local restaurant that listed the basic menu, address and phone numbers on hand-painted panels of wood. Route 40, Barrancas, Neuquén, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Crossing into Cuyo
The road northward from Barrancas enters a kind of no man’s land between Patagonia and Cuyo, with about 90 miles (145 km) of very wild terrain and just a couple of tiny communities. In fact, almost 60% of this stretch of Route 40 remains unpaved, rough gravel. As you might expect, relatively little traffic makes its way northward into Mendoza Province along this route. That was fine with us. As far as we were concerned, the less traffic on the dirt road to send up clouds of dust when passing us, the better.
Given the remote character of this part of the route, we were not thrilled when the weather on our day of departure from Barrancas had all the hallmarks of an incoming storm. The clear, blue sky had become mostly overcast and there was a noticeable chill in the air. To be honest, this was not a big surprise. We had been aware of a brewing weather system for several days, and had altered our schedule to be able to wait out the wind in the next, little town up the road. But it was still an ominous development, and were glad to have a relatively short day of cycling ahead of us.
To maximize our chances of making it to the village of Ranquil del Norte before the wind gained momentum, we rolled out of Barrancas not long after dawn. Within 10 minutes we cycled across the Colorado River, and entered the region of Cuyo. Vehicle traffic was wonderfully light, averaging only 2-4 cars per hour. Each time we stopped for a rest, PedalingGuy commented on how quiet it was in the desert. When the wind wasn’t bowing, there were hardly any sounds at all.
The morning sun lit up a ridge of snow splashed mountains, while the lower, closer foothills remained in shadow. Route 40, North of Barrancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
For a change, we practically had the road to ourselves. Each hour, only about 2-4 cars passed us going in either direction. Otherwise, the desert was quiet. Route 40, North of Barrancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A lone cow wandered across a dry lake bed. It seemed as though the dry landscape didn’t produce enough forage for large herds. Route 40, North of Barrancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We arrived in the village of Ranquil del Norte (pop. <50) while the winds were still calm, but immediately hit a snag. Try as we might, we couldn’t find the rental cabin that was marked on our map. There were no signs or other evidence that a property was for rent. Stumped, we wandered around the block without any success. We even approached a man and woman chatting in front of one of the houses, hoping they could help us. It was a bit unnerving when they told us that they didn’t think there were any rental properties in town. This was a tiny little village, and it seemed like people should know about something like that. The prospect of waiting out the incoming storm in our tent was gaining in likelihood, but not desirability.
When we returned to the main road, we saw another woman watering the grass near a small park. We decided to try our luck with her.
Finally, we had made the right connection. She told us right away that there were at least two places for rent in town. One of them was right there, across the road from us, less than 50 meters from the people who did not think there were any rentals in town! Perhaps this was not too surprising after all, since there were no signs and it was simply rental by word of mouth - an early version of Airbnb.
It reminded us that this is how people used to travel before the invention of the internet. In remote areas like this, with towns of less than 100 people, you would just arrive and start asking around for a place to stay.
The lady that was helping us walked over to the front of one of the nearby houses, and called out for someone to come help us. Two people emerged from the house. They confirmed that they had a cabin to rent, and that it was available for the next two nights. We were thrilled that we wouldn’t be stuck sleeping in our tent through another wind storm.
The rustic cabin (on the left) that became our home for two nights, while we waited out another wind storm. Route 40, Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Ranquil del Norte ended up being one of the more out-of-the-way Argentinian towns where we would spend some time. Besides the elementary school and a tiny information center, the only other businesses in town were two, very limited grocery stores, each one occupying a small, bedroom-sized space. It took visits to both of the stores to procure enough food for our layover, while we waited for the storm to pass.
Food options in the little village of Ranquil del Norte were fairly limited, so we made do with whatever was available. The only bread sold at both of the little grocery stores came in the form of humongous loaves of locally-made bread. One loaf kept us fed for days. Route 40, Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Unfortunately, we bought a couple of canned items (lentils and tuna) before realizing that our cabin did not come equipped with a can opener. We used to carry a can opener, but it broke a while back and we had not replaced it yet. We spent the next several hours trying to solve the problem of how we would open those cans. Neither one of the shops sold can openers, our host didn’t have one, and several other people we asked in town didn’t have one either. We even managed to break the ‘can opener’ on our cheap, Leatherman knockoff, multi-tool within seconds of trying to use it to open one of the cans. We were starting to run out of ideas.
However, during our hunt for a can opener, one of the shop owners informed us that nobody in town used can openers. Instead, they all just opened cans using a knife. He even produced a big carving knife to show us what he used, and assured us that slicing through metal doesn’t harm the knife. (Yeah, right.) In the end we managed to get the cans open using a serrated knife on our multi-tool (kind of like a tiny saw). It did the job, without damaging our other knives that we use more frequently. But we made a note to get a new can opener at the earliest opportunity.
A Valley of Lava
With the windstorm behind us, we looked forward to three, pleasant days of cycling through one of the wilder sections of Route 40. The crisp, cold air on the morning of our departure from Ranquil del Norte was particularly welcome, since the ride began with a 1.5 hour uphill climb that kept us comfortably warm.
From the top of a nearby ridge, a couple of alert dogs watched us cycle by and then trotted along with us for a short distance. Unlike some dogs that you can outrun, these dogs were clearly faster than average and would not be left behind if they didn’t want to be. A remarkable number of dogs in this region had the sleek appearance of Sight Hounds (i.e., Greyhounds, Salukis, or Borzois). We were surprised to see these two so far from a ranch or farmhouse. Route 40, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We were still in goat country. One hillside was crawling with hundreds of goats, looking almost like a swarm of ants from a distance. You can tell how good an area is for grazing by the domestic animals that you find. Cows get the best grass, sheep are next and goats subsist on the most meager of dry dessert vegetation. Route 40, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Soon after cresting the first hill we rode onto the dirt, and enjoyed a glorious, two-hour descent. We particularly enjoyed the downhill ride because the gravel surface was not very good for cycling. It was basically a fine dust, packed with lots of loose, round stones - which made it very slippery, and mushy in places. It took a lot of concentration to cycle in a good line through the stony dust. But it still was a whole lot better than trying to claw our way uphill on the slippery surface.
As we descended off of the ridge, we could see a new volcano in the distance. For some time its peak was hidden in the clouds, making it look enormous. But when the clouds later cleared we could see that it didn’t rise to a cone - instead it was topped by a broad, flat caldera, and not so tall after all. Route 40, Payún Liso Volcano, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
At the bottom of the descent we had our first encounter with Argentina’s Río Grande (another familiar river name), which would be our traveling companion for the next several days. The sight of so much water rushing thorough the rocky channel seemed incongruous in the desert-like landscape. Without a major source of water in the high mountains nearby, there would be no water here.
At the river crossing we were struck by a change in the landscape, which was suddenly covered with dark, basaltic lava rocks. We had reached the edge of a huge lava field, which blankets an area larger than the island of Jamaica. Over the past 600,000 years, a series of magma eruptions filled the river valley with molten lava. Now the river flows through channels that run along the western edge of the lava field, slowly eroding its way back towards the east.
The rushing water of the Río Grande cut a channel along the edge of a dark, prehistoric lava flow. You can see the regular desert sand on the left, and the dark lava rocks on the right. Route 40, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
For the rest of the day we cycled parallel to the river, along the edge of the Payún Matrú volcanic field. Large swaths of land were topped with dark, jagged ridges, and huge, black lava boulders lay scattered around, as if they had been ejected into the air and landed there. When we stopped at an overlook, the craggy shapes of the rocks were striking. It reminded us of cycling through Craters of the Moon National Monument in the United States - but this lava field is actually much bigger (nearly four times the size of Craters of the Moon).
We enjoyed an hour and a half of mellow cycling through the valley, before climbing back sharply uphill onto a volcanic mesa. That final climb was steep enough that PedalingGal ended up walking for a bit. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
After a long day in the saddle we found a great spot to camp along the edge of a mesa overlooking the river. As we were scouting a spot for our tent, two huge Andean Condors soared slowly over the ridge on the far side of the river canyon. It seemed like a good omen, since we hadn’t seen condors in quite a while.
In the end we chose to pitch our tent in a low spot between a couple of large, lava boulders that provided some wind protection. An afternoon breeze had picked up, so we added a few extra guy lines to the tent, just in case. As we ate our dinner in the early evening, another condor flew by.
A pair of Andean Condors glided slowly by our campsite on a bluff overlooking the Río Grande. Hopefully we didn’t look so worn out that they were hoping for a meal. Route 40, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Most of the plants in this area came armed with dagger-like spikes. We had to be careful to avoid running over small plants trying to grow on the sandy paths - so as not to puncture our tires. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We ended up with a nearly perfect campsite, nestled among the lava boulders on a mesa overlooking the river. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We slept like babies. Too bad the morning was so, darned cold. In our first attempt to get up, around 7:30am, we got so cold we dove back into our sleeping bags, shivering until we warmed up again. The water in our bottles wasn’t frozen, so the temperature was probably above freezing - but not by much.
But eventually we had to face the music. On these open landscapes it was wise to start early and cycle as much as possible in the morning hours, to avoid any problems with the afternoon winds. Before long we managed to give it a second try, and successfully donned our frigid clothing. However, it was just too cold for hanging out around camp. Even at 9am the sun had not yet risen over the ridge to our east, so we skipped breakfast in favor of getting back on our bikes. We both wanted to get our blood moving and generate some heat.
The morning light cast a warm glow on the brown and tan slopes of the surrounding hills. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
It took about 1.5 hours before we finally warmed up enough to stop for breakfast. We set up our camp chairs at a spacious overlook and enjoyed a leisurely meal, with a world class view of the Río Grande below.
Breakfast with a view of the Río Grande Valley, as it wound its way along the edge of the lava field. Route 40, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
From a distance some of the mountains were a kaleidoscope of muted colors. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Much of the ground along the sides of the road continued to be covered with jagged, moon-like, lava rocks. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, North of Ranquil del Norte, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
One of the more impressive sights of the day came when we crossed the Río Grande once again. This time the road crossed the river where it had cut a narrow, slot canyon through a long tongue of the lava flow. Known as the Pasarela (a.k.a., the ‘catwalk’), it’s a popular, scenic spot along this section of Route 40. The water rushed through the deep gorge with great force and we guessed that it must have been very deep, because the wide river was squeezed into a channel no more than 25 ft wide (7.5 m). We took a small path down from the road to the edge of the gorge, with a footbridge offering close-up views of the churning water below.
View of the slot canyon of the Río Grande from the Pasarela (the ‘catwalk’), a foot bridge over the gorge cut through the dark, volcanic rock. A motorcyclist stopped on the highway bridge to take a look down the canyon as well. Route 40, La Pasarela, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A lava outcrop near the river crossing seemed to be a magnet for people setting up small, roadside shrines. Route 40, La Pasarela, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Eventually we left the lava field behind, and the vegetation became a lot more lush, especially along the water courses. A row golden and lemon-yellow trees lined the banks of the Mechanquil River, reminding us that the southern hemisphere fall was upon us. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Around 1:30pm we stopped at a small store called a Kiosko - the only place with services along this gravel section of Route 40. It wasn’t much of a shop - just a tiny shed on a scruffy farm. In these remote areas, any place that sells supplies usually gets lots of attention from the few people who pass by, even if it doesn’t have much to sell. Any supplies are appreciated, especially by people like ourselves who have limited capacity for carrying food or drink.
This small store only sold air-temperature, bottled drinks. Fortunately, that’s exactly what we wanted. We bought three 1.5L bottles of flavored water, then stopped in a shady spot just a little bit further down the road to guzzle them down. PedalingGuy polished off one 1.5L bottle of apple water all by himself, in just a couple long gulps. We both needed the extra fluids, and felt much more energetic after that.
It was a happy moment when we arrived at our planned campsite. Once again, we were able to find a spot several hundred yards from the road. It turned out to be the drilling pad for an old, capped, oil well. To our delight, the pad had a nice, big, flat, thorn-free space to put our tent.
As we were pitching our tent, a young man on a horse rode over to greet us, followed by his two dogs. He was very friendly, and told us that it was fine to camp there. Then he pointed to some trees about a half mile away indicating that was where he lived, and invited us to come over to the house if we needed any water, wanted to use their cell phone signal, or needed any help at all. That was very generous, and we thanked him for his hospitality. Then he rode off into the desert.
Our campsite on the decommissioned oil drilling pad. In addition to being nice and flat, it was gloriously free of thorn bushes. Route 40, Río Grande Valley, near El Manzano, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
It was a lovely, peaceful, moonlit night. The moon was at its peak of fullness, casting a cool, glow on our tent all night. Although the morning was considerably warmer than the day before, it was still quite chilly. So we repeated our habit of cycling for a few miles before breakfast. PedalingGuy found us a fantastic spot on a high point in the road, with a beautiful view of the Río Grande Valley spread out below.
Enjoying a chilly breakfast with another stunning view of the Río Grande Valley. Route 40, Near El Manzano, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
But the big event of the day was that we reached the end of the gravel section of road, and cycled back onto pavement. Once we were back on the asphalt, the road surface was in excellent condition all the way to town. Compared to the dirt, the pavement made it feel like we were gliding on air.
That was an excellent development, because a breeze started blowing right around dawn, and by 11am it was starting to get downright windy. The final few miles of cycling into the village of Bardas Blancas (pop. ~100) were considerably more pleasant since the smooth, new road surface helped to offset the strong headwind.
As we approached the village of Bardas Blancas, the river valley was covered with a blanket of pampas grass, swaying in the wind. Route 40, Río Grande River Valley, North of El Manzano, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
For a moment, it looked like a dinosaur had somehow survived in this remote valley. But it was just a statue guarding the entrance to an isolated, travelers’ hostel. Descanso Cordillerano, Route 40, South of Bardas Blancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
At the entrance to town we were lured into a small, roadside cafe by the promise of a hearty meal. While waiting for our lunch, we used the restaurant’s wifi to check the weather. Not only did we confirm that the wind was already blowing at a brisk 20 mph (32 kph), but we learned that it would be gusting to 45 mph (73 kph) tomorrow! That was all we needed to convince ourselves that we should hunker down for another day. We’d just enjoyed three days of cycling in gorgeous weather, and we wanted to keep up our winning streak.
La 40 Parador was the perfect spot to grab a hearty lunch after three days cycling through remote landscapes with few services. Route 40, Bardas Blancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
When we arrived at the cabin where we had a reservation, we found that it was still occupied. Since it was a Sunday, the occupants were engaged in what a large percentage of people in Argentina do on Sunday afternoons - they were having a traditional asado. Asados are like barbecues, but bigger and more grand, tied closely to the country’s gaucho culture. You would be surprised how many asados occur in Argentina every Sunday. In fact, it may be the tradition that is most characteristic of Argentina, and one of the reasons why everything seems to close down on Sunday afternoons. Everyone is having their asado.
So even though it was well past checkout time, we clearly could not interrupt a family asado, and we knew better than to try and rush them. While waiting we spent the next couple of hours taking a leisurely walk around the tiny village, and relaxing in a miniature park near the entrance to town.
At one end of the park stood a striking mural, celebrating the 25th anniversary of a famous, local festival, the Vuelta del Veranador. Each year in early May, the festival celebrates the return of the gauchos from their summer camps up high in the mountains with a special church mass, feasting, traditional dances, rodeo games, and (of course) the selection of a festival queen. On one side of the mural a handsome gaucho stood surrounded by his contented flock of goats and his trusty shepherd dog. On the other side of the mural, a cowboy with his horse stared more darkly at the viewer, seeming more dour, and much less cheerful than the first image.
Climb Over the Cuesta del Chihuido
Between us and the next big town lay the highest pass we had encountered since our final day of cycling in Colombia, before a bicycle accident totally rearranged our plans. Reaching an elevation of nearly 6,500 ft (1,980 m), we would be cycling uphill for nearly four hours, and still have 25 miles (40 km) of additional cycling to go once we had cleared the top of the pass. It was going to be a pretty big day.
We wanted to give ourselves plenty of time. So for the first time in a while, we set an alarm to get ready in the pre-dawn darkness. When we departed Bardas Blancas, there was just enough light to see the road ahead without using our headlights. Within five minutes we had crossed the Río Grande for the last time, and began the long, steady climb. By 10am the wind was already starting to blow, and we were only slightly more than halfway up the mountain. So we kept up the pace, and didn’t stop to rest much. We knew there would be time to rest once we made it over the top.
At the base of the hill up onto the Cuesta del Chihuido, another Route 40 sign was in the process of being smothered by travelers’ stickers. Arroyo Agua Botada Valley, Route 40, Near Bardas Blancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The morning sun cast a golden glow on the surrounding mountains. Arroyo Agua Botada Valley, Route 40, North of Bardas Blancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We did have one unnerving delay. About an hour into the climb, PedalingGuy noticed a noise coming from his back brakes, and pulled over to the side of the road to have a look. He quickly discovered that the cable casing for his back brake had pulled out of the barrel adjuster on his handlebars - a problem he had encountered before, but which seemed to be getting more frequent.
We got out our tools, and he worked on the cable for 25 minutes, while PedalingGal tried not to worry too much (because we had a very big downhill coming up after the top of the pass, so it was important that PedalingGuy’s brakes were working well). Finally, he managed to get the frayed ends of the cable inserted back into the barrel adjuster. However, we agreed that this was something we should probably get fixed, once and for all, when we got to the city of Mendoza.
We eventually reached the cold and windy top of the pass just before 11:30am. In spite of the chill, we stopped to bundle up with a few more layers of clothing for the long downhill. We also, finally, took a little snack break, which was very welcome.
The descent was steep, and we barreled along at a rapid pace even though we were plowing into the strong headwind. At a hairpin turn, we pulled over to the side of the road just to have a look around. We had to concentrate so hard with the steep terrain, wind and the curves that we otherwise wouldn’t have had a chance to enjoy the stunning scenery.
We stopped to catch our breath and have a look around at a hairpin turn on the descent from the Cuesta del Chihuido. Route 40, North of Bardas Blancas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Before long we had plunged nearly 2,000 ft (610 m) and entered another big, broad, mostly flat valley. Although the vegetation was still very low, we were thrilled that the wind subsided quite a bit once we came down off the pass. We picked up our pace, and made it into the town of Malargüe (pop. 32,700) before 2:30pm, just a half hour before the winds were predicted to reach their peak for the day.
The road surface on the way into Malargüe was in rough shape, but the bridges were even worse. Quite a few of the bridges looked like they should have been replaced a while ago. Loncoche River Bridge, Route 40, South of Malargüe, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A glowing, golden corridor of poplar trees surrounded us as we cycled into town. Route 40, Approaching Malargüe, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We couldn’t believe our luck when we checked into a lovely, modern cabin near the center of town. Compared to the very rustic accommodations we’d experienced since departing Chos Malal, it was a palace. All of the furnishings and kitchen appliances seemed quite new, the beds were comfortable (and didn’t squeak when we moved), the shower was fantastic, and the wifi was fast.
Even before discovering how great the apartment was, we had two reasons for taking a longer layover in Malargüe. First, the next two days had predicted wind speeds over 35 mph (56 kph). We definitely wanted to sit that one out. Second, the third day was Good Friday - a national holiday in Argentina. That meant most stores would be closed, especially in smaller towns. We didn’t want to arrive in the next, little town only to discover that we couldn’t get any food. So staying in Malargüe for a few days seemed like the prudent decision - especially since we had such nice lodging.
The town’s most notable landmark is known as the 50th Anniversary Clock Tower. For most of its history, Malargüe was administered as part of a larger municipality. It has only been recognized as a separate municipality since 1950. The clock tower was inaugurated in 2000 to celebrate those first 50 years. Route 40, Malargüe, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Eggs, tomato and avocado had become one of our go-to breakfast meals. The ingredients were readily available, and it was easy to prepare even in rustic cabins. Route 40, Malargüe, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
This set of keys for our cabin in Malargüe was typical of the big, brass, skeleton keys that were normal throughout Argentina and Chile. Route 40, Malargüe, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Climb to the Town Where the Sun is First Seen
A thick layer of low clouds covered the sky on the morning of our departure from Malargüe. With a temperature in the upper 30sF (appx 3C), no sunshine and thick clouds all day, that made for a particularly chilly ride. However, the brisk temperature was offset by the fact that we had an uphill trajectory for most of the day. As we plowed ahead, we warmed up nicely. It turned out to be an excellent day for cycling.
Looking east, we could see the edge of the thick, gray, layer of clouds that blocked the sun all day. Beyond the cloud line, the sun shone on some distant hills. Route 40, South of El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We arrived in a village with the romantic name of El Sosneado (pop. <100), in the early afternoon. They say that the name came from an indigenous phrase meaning ‘the place where the sun is first seen.’ At an elevation over 5,000 ft (1,525 m), the town supposedly got its name because of its height, which would see the first rays of sun before other nearby, lower-lying villages. Yet although there had been haciendas in the surrounding hills since 1901, the village was not officially recognized until 2005, just 20 years ago. And it remains a modest waypoint along Route 40
Our cabin in town was under the attentive care of three generations of women, all of whom helped us get settled in. To take the chill out of the air they started a fire in the wood stove, which looked like it was older than all the women combined. The stove was rather wobbly, and didn’t inspire confidence. It was not bolted to the floor, and it had a precarious looking chimney pipe that was not very securely attached to the stove - not a great attribute for a wood burning stove.
Our little cabin in the village of El Sosneado. Most of the houses in this small community looked surprisingly similar to our cabin. Route 40, Mendoza Province, Argentina.. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Lucky for us, the village did have two key services: a highway restaurant and a decent little grocery store. Parador el Chacallal had a very limited menu, but they’re well known for serving cured-ham sandwiches, a regional specialty. We bought two of the big sandwiches, and each took home half for tomorrow’s breakfast.
Like many highway restaurants, the windows of the Parador el Chacallal were plastered with stickers left by travelers who seemed to need to mark their trail, by leaving a physical record that they had passed through. Route 40, El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Since it was the day before Easter, we stopped at the grocery on the way back to our cabin to stock up on all of the food we would need for the next three days of cycling. Easter can be a tough time out on the road, when you arrive in a town to find the only store closed for the holiday.
Unfortunately, we had a couple hiccups before departure the next morning. An overzealous refrigerator froze some of our food, rendering it inedible. Plus, one of our water bottles sprung a leak. Given that we had a 100-mile stretch of remote highway cycling just ahead, this caused some concern. Complicating matters, it was Easter morning - when nearly all businesses were expected to be closed.
Without many options, we decided to try our luck and attempt to buy another bottle of water at the restaurant along the highway. On any other Sunday they would open at 8am. So we walked over to the restaurant right when they were supposed to open. Alas, they were closed for the Easter holiday. It was not looking good. But then we got a ray of hope. A sign on the door of the little grocery store said that they would open at 8:30am. We decided to pack up our things, and stop at the grocery on our way out of town.
Back at the cabin, we hedged our bets by filling two 0.5L bottles (left over from some drinks we had the day before) with water, and strapped them together in the bottle holder on PedalingGuy’s front fork. That would leave us just 0.5L short of the water we had originally planned to carry. We were a little bit nervous that the two bottles might be unstable, but at least we would have almost all of the water we had planned for.
Ordinarily we strap used 1.5L bottles of water onto both sides of our front forks when we need to carry extra water. But after one of PedalingGuy’s bottles sprung a leak, we had to make do with two 0.5L bottles lashed together. Route 40, El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
On the way out of town, we were thrilled to find that the little grocery store was open after all. It was an Easter miracle. We were able to purchase a new, large bottle of water, so we ditched the two 0.5L bottles. Now we actually had an extra 0.5L for the next leg of our trip. It felt much better to have a little extra water, rather than having to worry about whether we had enough.
The Road to the Diamond River
With all the delays we ended up departing El Sosneado nearly an hour later than we had hoped. Here and there along the route, we spotted isolated oil wells with pumpjacks nodding slowly up and down. And after we crossed the top of a major ridge shortly after noon, the majestic form of the Diamanté Volcano dominated our field of view for the remainder of the day.
One of several, slowly nodding pumpjacks we saw along the route north of El Sosneado. As part of Argentina’s famous Vaca Muerta shale basin, this area was one of the most important hydrocarbon mining zones in South America. Route 40, North of El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
As we rode toward Mendoza, we saw increasing signs that we were entering an area of particular devotion to the folk saint La Difunta Correa. The legend says that when her husband was left for dead by the army in the mid-1800s, Deolinda Correa searched for him in the desert northeast of Mendoza, but died of thirst on the way. Several days later her body was discovered by a band of gauchos, but her infant child was still miraculously alive. Devotees believe she continues to grant miracles to those who pray for her help, and have built roadside shrines to her across northern Argentina. One of the most common ways to seek her protection is to leave bottles of water (especially around Easter), to quench her eternal thirst. Thus, you can always tell a Difunta Correa shrine by the piles of water bottles left as offerings. Route 40, North of El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The majestic form of the Diamanté Volcano dominated the landscape ahead of us as we rode northward. Route 40, North of El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
This adorable Pygmy Armadillo was busy rooting around in the dirt along the side of the highway. It’s the only species of armadillo that hibernates, spending the winter underground in burrows that it digs with its big claws. Route 40, North of El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Around 2pm we arrived at a well-known picnic area, underneath the overpass of a bridge across the Río Diamanté (a.k.a., the Diamond River) in the shadow of the volcano - and found a party in full swing. Easter had brought out a crowd of revelers, enjoying a day by the river. There were at least 10 cars parked under the bridge, gathered into groups of friends and families. All of them were engaged in the Sunday asado. There were multiple campfires, kids running around happily, and adults relaxing in folding chairs, sipping wine.
Fortunately for us everyone else was traveling by car, so they were clustered near places where they could park. We were able to find a spot to camp down one of the trails, away from the cars and crowds. We spent much of the afternoon relaxing in our camp chairs in the shade of the bridge, watching a group of gray-hooded sierra finches pecking around the picnic sites, looking for scraps.
Around dinner time, we went back to our campsite away from the bridge. As we were settling down to eat, a young family came over to chat with us. They had driven down from Mendoza for the day (a 3-4 hr drive), and were amazed to hear that we had cycled all the way up from Tierra del Fuego.
Our campsite near the Diamanté River Bridge. On the hillside beyond our tent, we spotted the first cactus plants we had seen since beginning our journey through Chile and Argentina. It felt like we were really in the desert now. Route 40, North of El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
As the evening wore on, cars slowly began to depart. In the twilight before 8pm, the last two groups left, and we were alone for the night.
The Road to the Parrot River
The next morning began with a fairly aggressive climb out of the river valley, offering a nice view back towards the bridge where we had camped the night before. We were happy to get the hardest ascent of the day out of the way in the cool morning air.
The view back towards the Diamanté River Bridge. The night before, we had camped at the base of the bridge on the lefthand side, near the river bank. Route 40, North of El Sosneado, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
After a 3.5 hour climb we stopped for breakfast and took stock of the state of our tires. Large numbers of goathead burrs, the bane of cyclists everywhere, managed to impale themselves in amongst our treads. We both had over a dozen to remove from each tire. They all managed to penetrate the rubber far enough so that a small amount of air would escape when they were removed, before the sealant could close the hole. As a result, each tire had to be pumped with air. But in short order we were back on the road.
After cresting the top of the ridge we passed a band of gauchos herding cattle along a fence line parallel to the highway. Further south all of the herds we saw had been goats. The presence of so many cows suggested we were getting into an area with more available grass. Route 40, South of Pareditas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The ground cloth we had carried with us finally came in handy as an ad hoc sun shelter, for a relaxing evening before setting up our tent. Route 40, Papagayos River, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
As the sun sank towards the horizon, we set up our tent in the fading light. We had just enough light to get ourselves settled inside before darkness surrounded us. Route 40, Papagayos River, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Cycling Into Wine Country
We had a delightfully carefree ride from the Papagayos River into the town of Eugenio Bustos. Except for a very brief climb out of the river valley, the route had a gentle, downhill gradient all day. We sailed along at a brisk pace, enjoying the ease and speed of the ride.
Bands of thick clouds alternated with sunshine, creating lovely patterns on the Andean foothills to our left. Route 40, South of Pareditas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Enjoying a quick break along the side of the road, in the chill morning air. Route 40, South of Pareditas, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
As we approached the first town we’d seen in days, the natural landscapes were rapidly replaced by agriculture. Finally, we started to see some of the Cuyo Region’s famous vineyards. Rows of grape vines, turning autumn colors after the harvest season, glowed against a backdrop of rugged, treeless mountains. In addition to the grapes, we passed fields of squash, onions, and other crops.
The Cuyo Region’s famous vineyards spread out across the valley floor, against a backdrop of rugged mountains. Water that drains from the mountains is used to irrigate the crops, allowing them to grow in what would otherwise be sparse desert. Route 40, Near Eugenio Bustos, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Before long there was quite a bit more traffic. Since the highway lanes were still very narrow, we found ourselves cycling on the gravel highway shoulder once again.
A Rough Stay in Eugenio Bustos
Eugenio Bustos (pop 12,400) is famous for being one of the premier wine producing areas in southern Mendoza, and there are several high-end accommodations at wineries along the periphery of town. However, the town itself felt somewhat neglected. And the cabin we rented seemed to be emblematic of that neglect. Given the rough state of the place, we decided to skip a planned rest day and headed out of town the next morning.
Contacting our host after arriving outside our cabin in Eugenio Bustos. It looked pretty good from the outside, but ended up being very run down on the inside. Route 40, Eugenio Bustos, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Free Tomatoes
Back on the road, we both started to feel better. It was a cool, clear morning - perfect for cycling. The early sun cast a warm glow on the mountains. And after we exited the urban footprint of Eugenio Bustos, we cycled through a big, agricultural valley.
This is one way to save on labor costs. The traffic control guy for this road construction zone was a metal frame dressed in construction worker’s clothes. He was even wearing rubber boots and a hard hat. Route 40, Tunuyán, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Sighting this Burrowing Owl on an agricultural fence post was particularly fun for us. In addition to being a delightful species, it reminded us of Burrowing Owls we had seen in similar, dry land habitats in North America. Route 40, Near Ugarteche, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Along the way we noticed numerous produce trucks passing us. As a general rule, the trucks were open on top. The exposed vegetables were piled high, and vulnerable to having a few escapees leap off the truck during transit. A couple of times, a few juicy, red tomato bombs fell on the road shoulder around us as a passing truck bounced over a bump in the road. As a result, the margin of the highway was littered with fresh vegetables. In addition to the tomatoes, there were carrots, potatoes, garlic, and onions - enough to make a hearty stew.
At one point we noticed a few people who were collecting these escaped veggies along the roadside, so we got the idea to join in and collect a few for ourselves. By the end of the ride, we had procured two gorgeous, unbruised, ripe tomatoes to go with our evening meal.
One of our ‘gift from the heavens’ tomatoes, that fell onto our dinner plate from an agricultural truck rumbling along the highway. Route 40, Near Ugarteche, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Sleeping In a Vineyard
We had planned to camp at a farm on the southern outskirts of the Mendoza metropolitan area. But when we arrived at the farm, we had an unpleasant surprise. First of all, there was no sign indicating the name of the place we were looking for. We double checked Google maps just to make sure, and it seemed as though we were in the right place. However, when we started to walk down the long, gravel driveway three big dogs came rushing towards us, barking wildly.
One of the dogs was a Belgian Malinois, which is one of the preferred breeds for military and police because of how fierce and fearless they can be. He lived up to his reputation, and aggressively ran towards us, barking up a storm. We stopped walking and stood our ground, still wondering if we were in the correct place. Eventually the dogs got bored and seemed to calm down, so we took a few more steps toward where we thought the campground might be. But that just triggered the dogs to come out barking again. Each time we took a few steps, the Belgian Malinois would see us and aggressively run back toward us. We wondered how this could possibly be a campground with these dogs around.
Luckily we had a cell phone signal. So without moving much, we sent a message to the owner of the farm campground. Within a few minutes, we received a reply that she wasn’t home, but that we should feel free to enter and make ourselves comfortable. Easier said than done with those dogs around. Yet eventually the dogs seemed to decide that since they couldn’t run us off, we just might belong there. Slowly they changed from aggressive to friendly.
There weren’t any people to welcome us to the camping area at Finca Martinez. Instead there were three, big, aggressive dogs including this Belgian Malinois and Boxer. But after they got to know us, the dogs followed us around, looking for attention. Route 40, Near Ugarteche, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
We ended up in an idyllic campsite, with our tent pitched on a grassy hill overlooking a vineyard turning to autumn colors. The tall mountain in the background is Mount Aconcagua - the highest mountain in the world outside of the Himalayas, whose glaciers are a source of Mendoza’s life-giving water. Route 40, Near Ugarteche, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Just as we were starting our dinner an older couple arrived to have a picnic. We introduced ourselves and learned that they were the property owners. Before long we learned that the husband had grown up on this farm, but had eventually moved away to live in the city. Now the houses on the property were occupied by the couple’s children and their families. However, it was clear that they still felt a deep connection to the land. Although they lived in the city, they would often come back to enjoy a meal under the veranda at the campground, and to fill a big jug of water from the farm’s well. In their opinion the well water was much better than the city water. After a long visit, they even gave us some local wine as a gift. They were incredibly sweet.
It was a wonderfully peaceful night. For an hour after sunset, a Ferruginous Pygmy-Owl hooted from the trees nearby. A light rain began to fall after we were nestled into our sleeping bags and continued off-and-on throughout the night. But otherwise the weather remained calm, with almost no wind. The sound of the rain on the tent was gently soothing.
Cycling Into the City of Trees
After a lazy morning at the vineyard, it was time to get back on the highway and make our way into the city of Mendoza. With a population of 127,160 people, the city itself doesn’t sound so big. However, Mendoza is surrounded by a dense cluster of suburbs that all run together. As a result, the Mendoza metropolitan area has well over two million people, making it one of the largest population centers in Argentina outside of the capital of Buenos Aires. We spent most of the next day cycling through an increasingly urban landscape. For two hours we followed the Route 40 highway, cycling almost exclusively on the gravel margin to stay out of the fast-moving traffic.
It was a relief to finally exit the freeway. For the next couple of miles we cycled through residential areas, continuing to dodge cars on the crowded streets. But eventually we reached a bicycle path, and our lives became a whole lot easier. These bicycle paths were some of the narrowest we had seen anywhere. They were so slender that on the two-way sections you could easily hit the handlebars of a cyclist going the opposite direction if you weren’t careful.
Yet perhaps the most striking thing about the city of Mendoza was the trees. After a month of cycling through desert landscapes with hardly any trees, Mendoza was practically a forest. It’s no wonder they call it The City of Trees. Nearly every street and plaza was packed with enormous shade trees that towered overhead, creating pleasantly cool and leafy spaces for folks to take walks or just hang out.
A typical, tree-lined boulevard in the city of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
How do they manage to have so many trees in the desert? Mendoza relies on an ingenious network of ditches called acequias to spread irrigation water to every corner of the city. Almost all of the streets are bordered by these open ditches, which bring life-giving water to every single tree. When walking around town, you actually have to be careful not to accidentally fall into one of the concrete-lined ditches, which are a couple of feet deep and could cause serious injury to a distracted pedestrian.
The network of acequias is a modern version of an ancient irrigation system that was first developed by the native Huarpe people hundreds of years ago. They built the original canals to harness the glacial meltwater that originated in the high Andes nearby. When the Spanish arrived in the mid-1500s, they integrated and expanded the original canals into the city plan for Mendoza. At its core, the network of acequias is what allows Mendoza to be an oasis in the desert.
Plazas, Parks, Fountains, and Wine
As a major urban center, Mendoza offered the chance to catch up on some much needed bicycle maintenance. Our top priority was to replace the bottom brackets on both bikes. For a while we had both been hearing an annoying clicking sound when we pedaled, and there was some movement when we pressed on the crank arms - indicating that our bottom brackets were wearing out. PedalingGuy also decided to replace his eccentric bottom bracket insert (which allows us to tension our chains for the Rohloff Speedhubs) - since finding out a couple of months ago that some of the threads holding the bottom bracket in place had been damaged. And lastly, we finally had a mechanic fix PedalingGuy’s fraying brake cable housing. With a new brake cable and housing, his back brake is now working like new, so we won’t have to worry about his back brake failing when we get back into the high mountains.
While waiting for the spare parts to arrive from the United States and making several trips to local bicycle repair shops, we spent the next month exploring the city of Mendoza. Much of the city’s charm is underpinned by its access to all that water - including leafy, green plazas, dancing fountains, and wine. We enjoyed long walks through the city’s many plazas and the vast General San Martín Park. On alternate days, we cycled on steep dirt trails through the city’s Mountain Biking Park. These rides culminated with climbs to the top of Glory Hill, with its monuments honoring those who fought in Argentina’s war of independence.
And, of course, we enjoyed some wine. The region around Mendoza produces 90% of the country’s wine, especially the world-famous Malbec. It’s hard to overstate the importance of Malbec to Argentina’s wine industry. It is the region’s signature grape, and a key driver of Argentina’s global wine reputation. The high altitude, dry climate, and abundant water from the mountains create ideal conditions for growing Malbec grapes, which are still harvested locally, by hand.
Here are some images from our time in Mendoza:
A tile plaque in a small plaza honored the Virgin of Carrodilla, the patron saint of vineyards and wine makers. Each February a festival is held in her honor, just before the start of the grape harvesting season. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Mendoza has five main plazas, each with its own theme. The Plaza de Italia was filled with images honoring the role of Italian immigrants in the city’s development, including the wine industry. An Italian gondola appeared to glide out of the plaza’s central fountain. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The Plaza de España (Spanish Plaza) was one of our favorites, with beautiful, intricate Andalusian tile mosaics covering a series of benches that invited people to simply hang out and enjoy the peaceful setting. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Detail from one of the tile panels in the Plaza de España, depicting Christopher Columbus’s discovery of the Americas. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
An Andean Condor with outstretched wings sits atop the famous Gates to General San Martín Park - Mendoza’s version of Central Park, on the western edge of town. The condor is said to represent strength and freedom. The gates are largely symbolic, since the rest of the park is not fenced. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The Fountain of the Continents was one of the more impressive fountains in General San Martín Park. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Regata Lake in General San Martín Park is more than a kilometer long and hosts the city’s rowing club. We often saw rowing crews out practicing on the lake. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
On the western end of General San Martín Park stands Glory Hill, which hosts several monuments to the Army of the Andes. Led by General San Martín, the Army’s victories over the Spanish liberated several South American countries, including Argentina. Every other day, we would do a bike ride that included the short but steep 712 ft (217 m) climb to the top of the hill. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
The heroic monument to the Army of the Andes, at the top of Glory Hill. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Ciudad Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
A stop for a crepe from a food truck in General San Martín Park was a great addition to our bike rides. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
One afternoon we toured La Enoteca, a museum housed in what was originally Mendoza’s first wine making school. This strainer pump was an early tool used for separating solid parts of grapes from the juice during the wine-making process. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Descending into the depths of the old wine cellar at La Enoteca, Mendoza’s wine-making museum. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
People in Argentina typically drink wine with both lunch and dinner, as well as at social occasions. Every grocery store has an extensive section of shelves devoted to native wines, especially the national pride, Malbec. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
Argentinians also love their sweets. These alluring snacks were on display at one of the city’s many pastry shops. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
One of the city’s star attractions is the Dancing Waters Fountain. The show runs for 90 minutes every evening except Mondays, drawing crowds to the city’s central Independence Plaza. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
As we packed up our gear and prepared to leave the city of Mendoza behind, we reflected on the sun-drenched beauty, quiet desert villages and modern city that had so far defined our journey through region of Cuyo. With Patagonia now fading into memory, Cuyo captivated us with its lava fields, rivers of water coursing through deserts, and autumn-toned vineyards against the backdrop of the Andes’ highest peaks. Each mile along Argentina’s legendary Route 40 was an unforgettable way to connect with the country’s central heartland, and we were ready to continue exploring this diverse region as we continued our journey north.
A neon rendition of Mendoza’s provincial shield, displayed at Independence Plaza. Each part of the image has symbolism: grasped hands for unity, the red cap for freedom, cornucopias filled with grapes for wine, the Sun of May representing Argentina’s rise to independence, and laurel wreaths for victory. City of Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina. Copyright © 2019-2025 Pedals and Puffins.
