Hitchhiking the World: Chap 11 (Chile & Argentina)

---May 19th 2016---

It took me a full day to reach Encarnacion, the bordering town of Paraguay. Still having some time on my watch, I decided to get in Argentina, and cross the city before setting camp. This way, my morning would be without the painful city walk. What a bad move that was. First, I was forced into the bus crossing the international bridge, which got stuck in traffic for about an hour. I than tried to get my stamping on a “floating paper” to save room into my passport; no luck with that either. The bus brought me to the terminal where I lost a lot of money with the ritual “cambios” [money exchange]. Finally, as I was looking for the country’s map, I was told to wait until morning, which forced me into sleeping in town. Thankfully, there was a field right in front of the bus terminal where I set my tent. As for the next morning, I got up earlier than the tourist information booth and waited for about an hour before the lady got there, telling me she didn’t have any map; what a waste of time.

After all this time wasted, it was finally time to get back into action, little did I know wat to expect for the next few days. A few weeks before, when I left Argentina to head back to Bolivia, I remembered being happy to leave the country, and I must say that this feeling didn’t change much since. Crossing from Posadas to Talampaya, (roughly 1500km) was made thanks to only 3 actual hitchhiked rides. As for the rest, they all involved me talking my way into getting the ride.

My “second first” ride of Argentina was a motorcycle. It took an hour walk followed by another hour waiting until this motorcyclist passed by. As he passed me by, he signed me he was turning in not too long. As for me, I screamed that was fine, and it worked, finally, got my ride. Just on the other side of the curve, I was dropped, and started hitchhiking. I waited an hour on the spot but eventually got fed up with everyone telling me they were only going to the next intersection. Pissed off, I took my bag and started walking toward that “near” intersection. I walked for two hours in the middle of the fields until I saw this “near” intersection. Seeing a police control, I decided to walk toward it, and even if they didn’t help me find a ride, one of them invited me to eat; good old macaroni.

This meal brought my moral up a little, and I guess it showed as I got myself a ride within 40 minutes. I was definitely blessed with that ride as it was heading to Charata, about 600km down the road. I ride with the guy up until the night, where I fell asleep in the car. He woke me up at around 10pm. Tired; I put up my tent in the park, and crashed asleep again.

I woke up the next day hoping my previous day was just a nightmare. Full of confidence, I walked to the edge of town, and with a huge smile, I started hitchhiking. It took me 1h45 minutes to have a motorcycle give a ride two towns down the road. From there, magic happened, I instantly got a first ride (which gave me two insanely good apples), followed by another car ride, just 10 minutes later. This second ride wasn’t quite going to Santiago del Estero, so as it passed a bus, it flashed it to stop, gave me about 200$ (20$ Canadian), and told me to take the bus to the city. Nice gesture, but poorly executed as the bus was not only not going to Santiago del Estero, but just to the next town. I guess we really messed that one up!! Now in Quimili, I positioned myself right next to the Truck-Stop, but luck wasn’t on my side as every single trucker would tell me they weren’t going my way. Eventually, a motorcycle passed by. I intercepted him and asked him where he was going.

“Sorry, would you be heading this way?” I asked pointing down the road.

“No, I’m going this way” he responded pointing the other way.

“Alright then, have a good day” I responded discouraged, as watched him go. But, rather than heading in the direction he had previously pointed, he actually went in my direction. I’ve seen lots of annoyingly mean people trying to get rid of me, but this guy really was a prick. You don’t have to lie about where you are going, just say you don’t like hitchhikers, and that is fine.

Finally, after 2h, I managed to talk my way into a truck heading the next intersection, about 1km down the road. From there, I tried hitchhiking, but I kept on being bypassed by other hitchhikers positioning themselves in front of me. Once more annoyed by countless people telling me they were only going to the next intersection, and the hitchhikers stealing my rides, I stormed off toward that “famous” next intersection. Out of all the decision I’ve taken in this trip, this isn’t far from the worst that I took. I walk, walk, and walked. Two o’clock, became three, then four, five, and finally six. Six o’clock; four hours of walking, and still no sign of that “next intersection”, and still people were signing me they were going at intersection. But things were even worst; night had fallen. I was hours walk from the last piece of civilisation, not knowing how far was the next one, had no light, dressed with dark cloth on the road without any pull-over, and cars were passing by at crazy speed. Hitchhiking wasn’t an option anymore, but camping wasn’t one either as the tall grass wouldn’t let me put my tent, nor lay down. I was stuck in the worst kind of way, and there wasn’t a glimpse of hope. For the first time of my hitchhiking career, I was actually scared of the situation, as getting hit by a car was very plausible. Not too sure what to do, I decided to stand in the middle of the road waving my hand at car to catch their attention. At least, this way, I can see them coming, and if I see one doesn’t see me, I can jump in the tall grass. I tried and tried, but no luck. It was now 6:20, and counting the hour wait before I stormed off and started walking, it had being 5h20min that I was waiting, a new record. Finally, out of the shadow came a dimmed light car I could barely see. Scared this one wouldn’t see me; I squeezed myself in the tall grass and watched it come. Can you believe me if I say this one stopped. I was so surprised and happy; I jumped in the air screaming of joy, and ran toward the van. As got closer, I noticed the driver, I had seen him a while earlier. The axle of the car had broken down, and as I was walking by, I offered my help. They gently declined my offer as there was nothing I could have done, but seeing that I was a good person. And so, when they saw me in the dark, squeezed between the vegetation in total desperation, they stopped.

It turned out they didn’t just stop to get me to the next town, as they drove me all the way to Santiago del Estero, feed me while we drove, feed me once more at destination, gave me a sandwich for the next day, and bought my a road map of Argentina. Who knew saying “would you guys need an extra pair of hand” would have such an impact.

After a night at the gas station, I got back on the road, with only a 20min wait, but was my only luck of the day (or so). It took two hours to get a small ride to next town, where once more annoyed by that “I’m only going to the next intersection” hand gesture, I once more stormed off in the middle of nowhere. This time though, I looked at my map to know if there was anything; and it told me there was indeed a road 2km down the road. The only problem was that there weren’t. And so, once more, I got stuck in the middle of nowhere. Eventually, as I was trying to head back in town, I saw another broken car. I once more offered my help, but they refused it. They didn’t look like they wanted to help me, but I decided to use the broken car to my advantage, pretend I was part of the people in the car and that I needed a ride to the next town for repair parts. Unfortunately, I was in Argentina, land of the selfish; got no luck. This lack of luck gave me bit of luck as time passed by, and the car owner got his car fixed. I asked him if I could join in for the ride, and despite not truly wanting, he accepted. This ride won me 100km, and got me to Lavalle, a major intersection with a police control. For the first time of my trip, I asked the police to catch me a truck. In Bolivia, one had done it, but I didn’t have to ask for it. Just like that, with 5min, I got a truck heading to Catamarca. He made me visit the city, and drove me to the gas station at the end of town.

The night was falling down, and hitchhiking wasn’t an option, but having done poor millage, I wanted to keep on hitching, so I started asking everyone at the gas station, and eventually got a ride halfway to La Rioja. Unlike Catamarca, the gas station of the town didn’t have much car. Discourage, I decided to finish my day in town. Therefore, I needed to find protection from the menacing clouds. And walk the totality of the town and all I found was a small road side chapel. I’m not sure how legal it was for me to sleep there, but I squeezed my sleeping bag behind the religious statue and went to sleep.

The night was horribly cold, so I didn’t have too much difficulty waking up early, before anyone saw me. Not wanting to try the clientless gas station, I headed toward the police road block. I asked for help, but none wanted to help me out. And after an hour trying to get a ride, I got into a fight with one of them; not too good. Not wanting to face the awkward wait, I walk back toward the gas station. I bought a razor, took about an hour to dry shave in the dark and dirty washroom, and kept on waiting. Hour passed by, three hour and twenty minutes to be precise, until a car stop a few meters behind me to by oranges. I did not miss my occasion, and went talking to them; finally a ride. I got dropped off at La Rioja, not too far from the gas station. With much more traffic, I started asking around for a ride toward Pitquia and got one in just about 10min. From the back of the pickup, I reached was I was hoping would be my last stop until Talampaya; and it was. Therefore, it took me an hour and forty minutes to get that last ride.

Hungry, and wanting to try the locro, a local dish I had heard so much about, I decided to get myself one. As was eating on the terrace of the park, I started talking with an older couple who had just finished the afternoon tour. They were Argentinians who had lived 14 years in USA. Amazed by my story, they gave me there contact information for me to be able to spend a night in San Juan.

Eventually, night fell down, and I got to the camping site. Being in a remote national park, I had no option other than camp in the campground. I put up my tent in the dark freezing night (about 2°C at night), and went to bed. The atmosphere was freezing cold, but my sleeping bag could handle this cold; and it did. I woke up the next morning with very little will of leaving my sleeping bag, but if I wanted to tour Talampaya and visit Valle de la Luna, I had to get up as early as I could.

Not able to hitchhike (private road), I booked a tour in the canyon, which started at 10:30. We toured the pictographs, the Talampaya Canyon and the Mushroom (stone mushroom that is). Out of the many feature of the canyon, its abnormal echo has to be the most impressive feature. Words, or at least with my vocabulary, cannot describe the sound of that echo, but it had something different than the other echoes I’ve heard in my life.

One of the walls of the Talampaya Canyon

As we climbed one last time in the tour car, a guy sat next to me, Miguel. The social man rapidly started conversing with me, and as rapidly, invited me to join him for the ride toward Valle de la Luna, and after heading toward San Juan. Accepting the ride, we explored the neighbouring park. We stopped at the Painted Hills, the Submarine, the Paleontologist work station and the Mushroom, but once more, one of the parks feature caught my attention: La Concha de Bochas. What made this location odd were its perfectly round balls. Not only is it all concentrated in the same location, but also, in this specific spot, there are no other rocks, just the spheres. These balls are 100% natural and still don’t have any explanation as to how they became this way. They are not volcanic, and it couldn’t be erosion, as there are two set of ball that is agglomerations of different balls. Definitely a very unique place.

The strange and unique inonized ball in Valle de la Luna

Having a tremendous drive to do up to San Juan, Miguel offered to stop for the night at a local motel. He invited me to join his friend and I for the night, so I couldn’t enjoy a warm night. Normally, this sort of invitation would mean a good night of sleep, but starting a cold, I had a lot of problem sleeping. Still much better than the cold though.

The next day was less windy, and a little bit warmer. We took the time to stop at the Defunta Correa, a monument in honor of the Correa who died in the desert with her baby child in the 1800. Thankfully, the child had a different destiny as he survived thanks the milk of her mother still drinkable after her death. This happened quite a long time ago, but the story withstood the test of time, as she is now almost part of the religious icon. Wherever she is now, she protects all the drivers. Since I’ve entered Bolivia, I’ve seen small chapel with red flags, these chapels are in her memory.

Finally a few miles from San Juan, Miguel turned toward the 20 heading toward Cordoba. I exited the car and started hitchhiking the last few miles toward San Juan. The first car who stopped was differently a taxi, so, I told the driver I didn’t have money on me; “don’t worry, I know you’re hitchhiking”. But luck wasn’t with my second ride, as he hide his taxi gear for me to enter without knowing. When I asked him where he was going, he answered with “at 180”. I thought he meant at kilometer 180, or exit 180, but he actually meant for 180$. I hopped in the car and started talking with the guy. I explained him my travelling, and he kept on saying how rich he was from his job at the shipyard, but it turns out he wasn’t rich at all as when I exited the car, he asked me to pay him. I explained I had told him I was hitchhiking and that there was no way for me to know he was a taxi, and he replied by showing me the counting device under his shirt saying I should of known there was something under his shirt. We argued as I believed he drove me on purposed around knowing I couldn’t pay, but as he did mentioned the “180”, I couldn’t get away without paying. Being at the door of my hosts, I didn’t to create too big of a fuss, and ended up paying the bastard (sorry for the bad words).

Jose, the man from I meet in Talampaya on the first night, invited to join him for a drive through town. We visited the different dams, the Quebrada de Zonda, and a few museum, before finish the day around a family diner.

The next day was the 25th of May, the celebration of the Argentinean revolution of 1809. Obviously, José and Patricia invited me to stay for the day and celebrate with the entire family. We all enjoyed an exquisite homemade Locro that lasted all afternoon.

José & Patricia's family reunion

It had now been 3 nights spent indoor and in much comfort, but comfort never lasts too long on this travel, and was time for me to head back in the cold and head towards the mountains. Leo, one of the sons in law, drove me in the morning to the northern edge of town. The day was sad; grey clouds covering the sky and hiding the mountains, with a few rain drops falling over the deserted highway. I waited and waited without much result. My next destination was Puente del Inca, and I knew there was two way of reaching this location; through Mendoza, or by the mountains. I chose the mountains as the road looked much better, but this meant very low traffic. All throughout my waiting, I questioned my decision, but stood with it. It took over three hours to get my ride. Luckily, it was a good ride, helping me cross the totality of the canyon. From there, it took me just about an hour to reach Barreal.

Being now late in the day, I found a church, and asked if I could sleep on the property. The nun accepted me to through my tent under the porch roof for extra protection from the clouds; so far so good for this particular road. Unfortunately, I wasn’t at destination, and wasn’t as close I thought I was, as the next day turned out to be my first ever useless hitchhiking day. I got to the edge of the small town, and waited for an hour. A couple picked me up but were going only 7km, to an intersection in the middle of nowhere. I saw in the distance a road control, and decided to head over there for a little extra help, but the police officer turned out to be a real prick (once again, sorry for the word). Not only didn’t he wanted to help me, but as I was hitchhiking a few hundred meters from the premise of the control, he came to kick me out of his vision, saying that he could be in trouble if I was picked up near the control. When I told him it was dangerous for me to head in the middle of nowhere as people don’t pick up, and since I had no food with me, he replied with: “Not my problem”. Thank God I can count of police for security!! The traffic was of about a car every 40min. Things were starting to look pretty bad, but eventually, after over 4h in the dry, cold and high desert, a Good Samaritan passed by. He wasn’t heading the right way, but it was better for me to head back in town, as at least, I have a place to sleep and can find food. Back to square one!

Yeah, I'm discouraged

I killed the last few hours of the day doing nothing other than waiting and waiting. Night fell and traffic completely stopped; I guess it’s another night on the church’s porch.

Depressed, I got up, and headed back to this hellish hitchhiking spot. I didn’t know how long I was going to be there, but I knew it was for a long time. With the freezing breeze chilling my body, standing still wasn’t much of an option, but walking back toward nothing wasn’t much better, so I started joggling. Boy did my joggling skill have been growing ever since. Nine o’clock, turned into ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, and finally fifteen o’clock came to be. At that moment, a car pulled over behind me. I barely moved, thinking it was a prank or something, but no. One of the passengers got out and signed me to come over. Without a second to wait, I grabbed my bag, and ran toward the car with the biggest smile I’ve ever had. Finally, after 14h without any progress, I was out. With that wait, I broke every record of waiting: longest uninterrupted wait (6h), longest wait in a single location (9h20), longest wait without any progress (14h).

I finally got to Uspallata and the sky was blue. But it was around 4pm, and didn’t feel like hitchhiking. I bought myself a snack and setup camp for the night. The night was cold, but my sleeping bag was warm. When I woke up the next morning, my tent was covered in ice, and the sky was back to grey. I tried hitching to the mountain, but was eventually told the road was closed due to the snow storm a few kilometers up the road. The Puente del Inca was now unreachable. I was bummed. I had never worked so hard to reach a place, and just as I reach it, I’m blocked. I crossed town again and hitched the other way, but this time, luck was on my side. I got a quick ride out of the mountains. Oscar and Maria, who lived in Mendoza picked me up, and as we got to the main road, they gave me there contact information so I would have a place to stay if I couldn’t get a ride by the end of the day.

A few minutes later, got a first ride two towns down the road, followed by a ride within the first minute of waiting. I got off at San Carlos, where I found a ride heading all the way to Santa Isabella (375km) down south. We reached the small town by night fall, and being a rainy night, I decided not to go to bed, but do some gas station night hitchhiking, and just like that, within 3 cars, I got a ride all the way to Neuquen (340km). The car I was in could go very fast, so the drive lasted until 3am, but the conversation was on going for the totality of the trip. Now in the middle of the night, and dead tired, I started walking toward the bus terminal for shelter from the rainy sky and the cold. Fortunately, I didn’t had to walk for too long until a car pulled over and picked me up, yes, at 3 am, I got a ride in the middle of a city. I found a small corner in the terminal where I could lay down, and fell asleep.

Four hours later, the noise of the first buses loading and unloading woke me up. Still dark, I walked toward the edge of town; easier said than done since Neuquen and Plottier grew up to form one greater city. Not willing to cross another town, I found a gas station and asked around until I found a ride to the other edge of town. The fog from the night before had still not raised making hitchhiking much harder, but even so, I got a ride fairly quickly to Piedra del Aguila. My streak of luck still had something for me as Enrique was passing by, and decided to pull over for me.

“Where are you going?” he asked me.

“As south as possible. How about you?”

“As south as possible” he replied laughing.

He was going all the way to the town of 28 de Noviembre, a small town as far south as you can go without going in Chile or on the Tierra del Fuego, about 1’800km south. This was to be my longest single ride, but I had a few destinations I wanted to explore before reaching Ushuaia. Having a two days drive ahead, and having only slept 3h, I rapidly fell asleep, asking Enrique to wake me up if he was to see great landscape. I slept for about 20min, before he woke me up for indeed a beautiful valley. Plus this 20min was all I needed to find the energy for the rest of the drive.

We crossed Bariloche, El Bolson, Esquel and finally stopped for the night in Tecka. He offered me to sleep in the hotel for the night as he rented a two bed room. Once more, I felt the beautiful sensation of a warm bed, and warm shower. For our second day, we flew by Rio Mayo and finally got to Perito Moreno. This was my exiting point, but before waving our final goodbyes, Enrique called one of his friends living in Rio Gallegos, for me to have a place to sleep before crossing to the Tierra del Fuego.

Left off at the gas station, I decided to ask around rather than standing along the road. I guess it was a good decision since I got a ride to the Chilean border with the first car. I got to Chile without any problem, and after a few hours got myself a ride to the last town before the intersection heading toward Puerto Tranquillo. It was dark, and I knew the best way to fight the humidity from freezing over my tent was to find a roof. It didn’t matter how closed it was, a simple layer of concrete above my tent was enough to keep my heat from escaping as fast, and would protect we from the ambient humidity. I found this roof in a small playground. A small bridge used for kids to play around. It may not have been much protection, but I felt a lot warmer than some of my previous nights, plus, in the morning, no frost was on my tent.

It took me a while, but eventually, I got a ride to the intersection, and another while later, got a truck ride up to Puerto Tranquillo. Finally, I had reached the Marble Caves. Being on the edge of huge cliffs along a glacier lake, I took a tour boating around the lakes and visiting the different white and blue caves.

Marble Cave

I took the opportunity to ask around about the location of the Queulat Nacional Park, a hanging glacier in the mountains, but to my surprise, the park turned out to be about 600km north of Puerto Tranquillo, and with Chilean waiting average, the clouds, and the winter coming up, I thought better to leave this destination for next time. Instead, I hitched back toward Argentina for my next destination: El Chalten. The hitchhiking was hard, but managed to reach the town from the night before before dark.

As I was hitchhiking, a lady came to me and invited me to stay over at her house for the night. She was definitely a nice lady, but unfortunately, her personality was very hard to cope with. To start with, she had a huge accent, and was talking extremely fast. To be honest, I don’t think I could have understood her even if she had spoken French. But the most annoying thing was that she could stop talking. If she were to ask me a question, I would be able to open my mouth that she was already three conversations further. Eventually, I called it a day, and excused me before heading to bed. This way, I could not only relax, but have a few minutes of silence, but that didn’t make the trick as she kept on talking to me even as I was trying to sleep. She went on and on and on, and the only way to finally get peace was to pretend I was snoring, letting her know I wasn’t listening anymore. Even that barely worked.

Having to get up early for work, the lady woke me up at 5am. While she was still bombarding me with her excessive talking, I ate breakfast, and eventually, managed to slip in a “Thanks for everything, but it is almost 6am and yesterday you talk about a truck passing at that time. If I don’t want to miss it, I should be going”. Sure enough, this made the trick.

There was indeed a truck which passed at 6am, but it didn’t stop. It was dark and cold, and I had to wait for the Sun light to show up before getting a first ride to the next town, and finally back to the border.

I got back to Perito Moreno by mid-afternoon, started hitchhiking, but by the end of the day, I had nothing. Not having much option for my night, I camped outside of town. This was a great reminder that winter was coming, as I barely closed my eyes due to the cold ground freezing me. I shivered until the first ray of Sun, and I sure was happy to be able to get up and head out of town. Therefore, this wasn’t going to happen. I stayed all day trying to get a ride, but still nothing happened. I tried different location: the intersection, the gendarmerie, and the two gas stations, but nothing seemed to head south. Stuck in town for another night, I found a house in construction just across the street, definitely much more comfortable then the night before. As imagined, my next day wasn’t a whole lot better. All morning long, I tried founding a car heading south but after yet another 4h stuck in town; I gave up and changed my plan. Rather than using the 40 south toward El Chalten, I decided to cross to the Pacific, to highway 3, and head toward Ushuaia, and on the way back, tackle the Patagonia. This time, I had a little more luck; I only waited 2h45 to get a ride, limiting my stay in Perito Moreno to a 16h wait. Two rides later, I had crossed to Caleta Olivia. Not wanting another one of those freezing night, I found an abandoned house next to the gas station and set up camp for the night. It turned out quite nicely as the wind picked up and without any hard soil; my tent wouldn’t have lasted the entire night without extra protection.

Not having El Chalten on my mind, I started hitchhiking toward Rio Gallegos instead. It may have been much easier to hitchhike on highway 3 than on the 40, but it still wasn’t easy. It took me 2h45 to get a ride. At least, the truck that pulled over was going the distance. Plus, thanks to Enrique, I had a contact for the night. And so, once in town, I called Gabriela, which gladly invited me to stay over for the night.

I stayed in Rio Gallegos for two nights before tackling the last push south. Knowing the traffic was going to be sparse, I decided to hitchhike at the gas station. I asked around the truck first, but couldn’t get any “yes”. Of course, hitchhiking to la Tierra del Fuego meant crossing twice the Chile-Argentina border, so for truck drivers, it is an easy “no”. Seeing my luck wasn’t with the truck, I started asking cars. Definitely a good idea since I found a pickup ride to the first border. I exited Argentina, entered Chile, and walked to the truck border and raised my thumb. I got my ride within the first passing truck. Weirdly enough, when I entered the truck, I felt like I knew the driver. And as we conversed, I realised, he was one of the truck drivers I had talked to in the morning. Not sure if the border would accept a hitchhiker aboard, he refused to pick me up, but when he saw me at the border, he asked the border patrol if picking me up would be a problem when re-entering Argentina. When they said there was no problems, and without hesitation, the driver pulled over and honked at me until I realised I had a ride.

We drove all day to reach Rio Grande, but night had beaten me, and I was stuck in town for the night. That being said, Leo, the driver, offered me to stay on the top bed on his truck. Needless to say, I was quite happy, not only dodging another freezing night, but also having the opportunity to sleep inside a truck, something quite rare. But his generosity didn’t stop there, as he invited me for lunch with one of his friends, and got to enjoy a few beers.

I'm getting close, I'm now on la Tierra del Fuego

The following day, Leo drove me to a gas station in town. I asked around for rides, but I knew this wasn’t going to work, so after just 20 minutes, I left the gas station and walked to the edge on town. From there, a police officer picked me up. He wasn’t going all the way to Ushuaia, but halfway. On the other hand, being a police officer, he knew the guys from the police road control, and asked them to help find a ride to Ushuaia. Ten minutes was all it took to get my ride to the southernmost town in the world.

Full of hopes, I called a Dipi, a guy I meet in Jujuy who lived in Ushuaia, but it turns out he couldn’t host me after all. Bummed, I walk to the edge of town, and started looking for a place to shelter from the cold wind. Nothing seemed to the trick. I kept on walking and looking around for an abandoned house, while at the same time, having my thumb up. I sure can say I was surprised to see a car pull over behind me, so I ran toward it, and hopped in. The guy was going to pick his son up from a hockey match, and offered to drive me to the park, but while talking to his wife on the phone, the plan changed to an invitation.

I may have reached the southernmost city in the world, but I wasn’t quite at the end of the road. There was 20km more for me hitch, all the way to Bahia Lapataia. I first hitched a ride through town, followed by a free bus ride, and walked the last 12km to the official sign of the end of the road:

There it is, I've reached the other end of the continent

I could barely hold my excitement. I had made it. I had just crossed an entire continent; over 39’000km. This definitely deserved celebrating. So, I walked a little further, sat down in front of an amazing view, and open a cold beer. I sipped it slowly enjoying the view and the cold breeze. Once I found the bottom of my beer, I grabbed my stuff, and got back on the road. Destination: Alaska.

Those who know me know how much I love statistic. And of course, all throughout my trip, I kept track of a bunch of interesting ones. Here are a few.

I hitched 731 cars, and waited an overall 322 hours to catch all of them.
It took me 254 days to reach the far south, 132 of which I was on the road.
I crossed the entire continent with a budget of 2,28$/day, roughly $1’000cad.

The easiest countries to hitchhike were Belize and Ecuator, with a 7min average, whereas the roughest was Argentina with 64min wait.

The longest I went without eating was 28h45, in Pennsylvania.
The longest I went without showering was a horrible 14 days, from La Paz, to Asuncion. As for my cloth, I got up to 41 days, Chile-Argentina-Bolivia.
My biggest millage in one day was 960km, and my biggest ride: 1032km
Longest wait was 9h20, in Barreal, but 16h40 was my longest interrupted wait, in Perito Moreno
The longest I’ve waited before seeing a single car pass by was 2h30, in the Uyuni Desert.

PHOTOS