Another guest post this fine evening from the Carraterra Austral. This one come from J. I told him I would leave his post unedited or commented on but I lied.

I like it a lot. J is a huge backpacker and hiker and was worried about how he would take to my style of road trip but I think it had an impact. Part of his post mirrors a conversation he and I had while camped at the base of Volcan Osorno. Too many people rely on guide books and magazine articles to choose their next destination. We both think there is a lot more satisfaction, even if it isn't the perfect spot as identified by Outside or Lonely Planet, in picking a spot on the map that has cool topography or a dirth of inhabitants and finding our way there. Enough drivel from me, on to the wonderful words (he is going to force me to write better after this) of J Arthur Ralls....

Everyone counts their fortunes differently, and another friend of mine and I used to proclaim that it is he who dies with the greatest number of experiences, not dollars, who winds up the richest. If that is the case, then I just made a huge deposit into my account. Like many "rich" people there was some luck to my fortune, and as is most often true, it arrived in the sense of that commonly quoted phrase "it's not what you know, but who you know" that counts. Knowing Dave (or "DCon") was my fortunate investment. So if I have any "financial" advice to readers it is this: make friends with a slightly-obsessed 'Cruiser fanatic or become one yourselves. I've already been indoctrinated and converted, going so far as to give a name to my own cruiser...in traditionalist frenetic fashion. What would cause such monomaniacal behavior? Perhaps it comes from inhaling the icy thin air as your vehicle--and your lifeline-- slowly but steadily carries you to the top of a 17,900 foot Andean cerro; or by the confidence instilled by it as it brings you over labyrinthine landscapes from long-evaporated senderos. This entry is not intended to be about the Toyota Landcruiser however, or any other particular vehicle (though I have difficulty in condoning anything but the 'Cruiser). It's about taking a road journey and what it strips you of and what it brings you to. Replacing the flat panel of your monitor with the curved panoramic view of a windshield in alien territory is a thrill and a therapy that is wholly rewarding. A back-roads ramble forces you to peel away all senseless and unnecessary material and mental clutter so that all that is left is what will fit into your vehicle (DCon claims I could have done a better job of this...at least materially). What follows is a freedom which allows you to view unfettered the world in it's most raw elements of earth, water and sky. Few places offer such minimalist grandeur in greater amplitude than the Andes of the Atacama desert. Rising up from the coasts of Chile and stretching to the hinterlands of Bolivia and Argentina, the Atacaman Andes paints a shockingly stark yet vibrant picture of overwhelming proportion. It's a place of bare necessities, and because of such there are no distractions. It's a place so open and ample that you can fully unfurl the sails of all your thoughts and let them fly out across the landscape. Thus DCon and I launched into it's heart, armed only with a map, a couple of cold Coke's, and Dave Matthew's Band. In a sense, we followed the bull-bar of Ruby Claire. Some 1,600 miles later (roughly) we had watched the desert towers grow verdant with the replete rainfall of far southern Chile. The rich details of changing landscape and culture are too voluminous for anything less than a book. I could actually recommend one, but I'd rather focus my point on advocating the writing of your own...even if it never makes it to paper. Go take it trip! Fill your memories with things like chocolate-covered alfajores, cold carbonated water, Alpaca-knit hats, national park pamphlets, dusty pillows, souvenir mate (mah-tay) mugs, or whatever your particular path has to offer! It doesn't have to be to Bolivia, or Chile. Go cross a state border or visit a lake you've never been to. Pick the faintest line on the map as your road, and then sit back and watch a new world unfold.

Thanks for the post Jota.

With that I bid you all a hearty goodnight.