You may have noticed that mountains have a sort of gravitational pull on our camper. Whenever close to towering granite or even uplifted oceanic sedimentary layers, an undeniable force pulls us in. We know we’re not alone in being drawn to upward-bound dirt tracks and deep colored valleys because the demand is on the rise.

The more connected and industrious man is, the more we crave what mountains offer. The nation’s GDP and the cost of a cabin nestled in an Aspen forest go hand-in-hand. Ironically the mountains were originally set aside for conservation by Washington not because of their altruistic qualities, rather they were thought useless for farming or industry.

In fact, it’s not the imposing altitude or   Continue reading →

After having spent a week in the small but picuresque wine town of Cafayate our tasting buds were piqued and Mendoza loomed on the horizon. 15,000 miles from home, wine country seemed like the perfect place to spend Thanksgiving. As an added bonus, Sophie finished her finals early and hit the road with us.

The enormity of this region hit us full on as we entered the city limits. A quaint mountainous Napa Valley retreat it is not. Mendoza is a sprawling hot-asphalt metropolis of over one million people. Camping is shockingly expensive and miles away from the wine we intended to drink. But it’s hard to bring a Pribbeno party down.

We improvised a Thanksgiving asado to be   Continue reading →

Argentines are not an easy people to pin down, not at all. – Sophie (AKA “El Jabon”)

We’re sharing a cerveza with our cousin Sophie on a rooftop bar at an impossibly cool University hangout in Cordoba. While we wait on the pizza, she gives us a crash course on Argentine identity. Nearing the end of five months of study in this vibrant city, Sophie’s viewpoint is invaluable to us. We have only just skimmed the surface of all that she has absorbed here. Our combined experiences form a unique contrast and one hell of a cocktail conversation.

Although it was a quick overland border crossing from Bolivia to Argentina, culturally it seems we’ve crossed the Atlantic.

The city lights   Continue reading →

Logan: “They have to have it.”

Brianna: “Oh it’s in here, somewhere.”

Salsa. When we’re not traversing altiplano landscapes, climbing wicked peaks, and grilling divine beef, we’re on a never-ending quest for salsa. Today we are standing, somewhat forlorn, in the midst of an entirely too big grocery store. We once found  the spicy stuff lurking behind the broccoli beef seasoning on the international foods isle. It’s out there, hiding.

Lost in our pondering, a tiny Argentine man rounds the corner on us. He seems exasperated yet entirely pleased to have found us. We are immediately inundated with unexpected rapid fire Argentine Spanish.

We’re fresh off a week of Spanish lessons in Bolivia and 11 months of immersion. But   Continue reading →

Parked at home in San Francisco we had no trouble picturing the end of the road.  Southern Argentina’s Patagonia, Ushuaia, Bariloche, they each stood out in our minds as a beautiful way to finish the journey. So now that we have entered the country, we set out to explore the landscapes of Northern Argentina not knowing what to expect.

Dropping down from the Bolivian Altiplano we have taken every advantage of the warm weather and the ability to be outside without down jackets after 6:00pm.  Our surroundings have been startlingly desert all the way down to Mendoza, much like the American Southwest.

Binging on civilization we’ve hit each of Argentina’s major wine growing regions. Having wasted away many afternoons in   Continue reading →

Our first impressions of Argentina

“What will you do after Argentina?” the border official asked us thorough the glass booth. We both began the well practiced reply of the lengthy list of countries to come but it seemed to hit us at the same time. There are no more countries.

We stood there slack jawed, stumbling over incomprehensible Spanish. Border officials are probably trained for moments like this. Where do you go next is a simple enough question and these gringos were blowing it.

Seeing we could use a little assistance, he asked “You go home right?” This was no good. This simply would not do. Home? Where and what is that?

While pulling up to the border we   Continue reading →