Cachi to Salta

After this post, I´m going to stop going on about how well a road is paved, I promise. Following the previous day´s grind, I was very apprhensive about this road as the thought of spending another 4-6 hours dodging rocks had by now completely lost its appeal. A quick Google search on route 33 would have prepared me for what lay ahead, but for the complete loss of communication to the outside world. Cachi that night, for some reason, was completely cut off. 

Perhaps it was meant to be because what lay ahead were two big surprises. The first was the fact that route 33 to Salta turned out to be one of the most exhilarating drives I have ever driven. Even the opening straight was a joyride.

Rear view: The snow-caps of Cachi

Front view: At this point, unknown.

Foot to floor, I went for the world land-speed record. As the road gently climbed to a noticeably high altitude, the now familiar signs started to show again, except more intensely. Past the foothills, the road gets steeper and the straight toe-punt to infinity is replaced with long, lazy bends as you start climbing mountains. 

Head throbbing now, breathing with my entire lung capacity. And still it went up, left bend, right bend. Eyes felt like they were being gently pushed out of their sockets - not painfully but just a tiny bit discomforting. The body takes a while to adjust to altitude so the speed I was driving didn´t exactly help, but it was incredible fun. So much fun I almost missed the biggest surprise of all, after taking this almighty bend at full wack.

Hang on, I thought, as I drove past the little shrine dedicated to Santa Maria. Is that snow in the distance?  180 degree turn back to the shrine.

No mate, not snow. Clouds.

At that moment, everything I had seen in the past few weeks paled into insignifcance. I was all alone, above the clouds, breathing deeply, at 10:15 in morning. One of those moments I don´t think I will ever forget.