Things warm up at 500 meters.

pictures:

http://www.flickr.com /photos/brianandkim/sets /72157603250388511/

http://www.flickr.com /photos/brianandkim/sets /72157603279092187/

We survived the drive out from Fonck Chico, and aimed for Lago Steffen.  On our map, it had a picture of a fish on it, and well, we just couldn't resist. 
The needle hovered around 120kph, and as we cruised down the freeway we soaked up the views of snowcapped mountains skirted by lakes.  There really are not many cars on the Argentine highway, and crazy bus drivers and wandering cows seemed to be the only obstacles we had to dodge.  Just like lack of traffic, Argentine highways also have a lack of signage.  The road to Lago Steffen is dirt, narrow, steep, poorly maintained, and  exits directly from the freeway on a blind corner.  We only missed our turnoff by about 20km. . . 

What we hadn't counted on until we were more than half way down the road, however, is that it is also one of those timed roads.  Enter between 7am and 11am, exit between 3pm and 7pm, two way traffic after dark.  It was 4pm, and we're really glad that that huge Dodge Ram wasn't barreling around the corner 5 seconds sooner, or we would've had one flat fox on our hands!  Disaster narrowly averted, we continued cautiously down the rest of the road blaring the horn before rounding each blind corner.  We figured that this was a better idea than reversing for 11km.  Oops.

We knew the fox was tough after having taken it down the road to Fonck Chico, but when we came to the bottom of the hill at Lago Steffen, I was convinced that we should leave the fox parked on the side of the road and walk the last 2km to the campsite.  In front of us stood a small stream happily gurgling across the road.  We got out to investigate.  Brian was sure that the fox could make it easily.  It had a stony bottom for goodness sake, and didn't I just see that big truck cross it without pause?!  After some grumbling and protesting on my part, Brian's arguments convinced me that it wasn't really any more than just a puddle, and he demonstrated by wading across that it wasn't any more than ankle deep.  He was right.  The fox conquered the stream in the road.

We continued happily on our way for about another 200 meters until we came to a full-on river running across the path.  A sign just before the crossing read, 'Caution, proceed slowly.  Deep river.'   'Absolutely NOT!,'  I exclaimed.  'Of course it can make it!' Brian retorted.  He waded across and said, 'look, it only comes up to mid-shin!'  I waded in behind him, and after 3 steps was in water up to my knees,  icy cold water that left my feet completely numb by the time I reached the center of the river.  Having our rental car swept downstream with us in it, or getting mired  in the middle of nowhere was not appealing to me, and sounded expensive to boot.  I convinced Brian that we should park and walk, and reluctantly he agreed.

We rounded the corner and a tiny paradise awaited us at Lago Steffen.  Crystalline water reflecting snow-capped peaks, a couple of fly fishermen casting along the edge, and warm weather greeted us.  We cruised along the lake shore and found a perfect camping spot complete with fire pit, a flat place to pitch the tent, and our own stretch of deserted beach.  Exiting the forest, we noticed a family with 2 small children piling into a VW not dissimilar to ours.  I really couldn't believe that this tiny car had forded the river.  They had to have come in some other way. . .

We hot-footed it back to the road-river to witness this small non-amphibious vehicle, neatly packed with a  husband, wife, two toddlers and an empty picnic basket (and most likely a few empty bottles of wine) cross the stream.  He paused on the muddy bank, revved his engine, and shot across that stream, water flying well above the car on all sides, and made it safely to the other side.  I was impressed, and also a little bit apprehensive because this meant that Brian would be hot to test  the fox's cross-country skills in the next 5 minutes.  He shot me and 'I told you so' look, and we headed back to the car.  We needed this on video as damning evidence if we actually did get stuck, so I stayed on the bank to film.  I think the Brian must've gotten momentary cold feet because while I was waiting for him to cross, the camera ran out of memory.  It didn't get documented, but the fox made it safely to the other side of the river.  I'm now a believer, and Brian had some good 'I told you so' rights for the rest of the trip.

Despite being a beautiful place, the fish weren't biting but the ducks sure wanted to eat the lure!  Just as we were about to give up on the fishing for the night, disaster struck.  Brian snagged his lure on a rock, and the rod snapped!!!!  We now had a rather non-functional dinner catching device.  Of course we were going to salvage it, and we fixed it with some tree branches, part of a tent pole repair kit, and some duct tape.  We´ll have to see how well this holds up against a mighty fish.  I'm sure it will have no problem at all.

We enjoyed another night of 'car camping' complete with bottles of delicious Argentine Malbec and loads of chocolate.  We debated whether or not we should stay another night, but in the end, our itchy feet led us back up the twisty turny narrow road (again the wrong way at the wrong time, blaring the horn against oncoming traffic the whole time) the next morning.