Don´t Cry for Us, Argentina

The mountain: in our way. Located between Alguirres and Tafi del Valle (destination for the day); a 100 km ride, a 6,000 ft. climb.

The word: hell.

The attack: spirited (at first), but mainly slow, steady and laughable.

The hope: After 3,000 ft., that the locals had miscalculated the meter to foot conversion, that the climb would level off and we'd be sitting like pretty bandidos on our saddles as we cruised down to Tafi.

The results: 5 hours on the mountain, climbing; another 3 to Tafi. Which was not a cruise.

The law: the mountain will always kick your ass.

What more can we say about the day on the mountain except that we were humbled, that the sign that said Fin del Mundo (to indicate a panoramic vista for picture taking) might have been hilarious had we been in a mood for hilarity, but we were not -- we were cranky, which is the mood that comes after a sound humbling -- and while we were always full of hope that around every switchback was the end of the climb, a good thing to be on a tough ride, the mountain would not be moved by prayers and useless bargainings and, to be honest, grew even stonier and deaf, its road narrowing in places where only goats and tour buses are lords, and that for the last 3 hours on the evil mountain, we resorted to using our granny gears, the lowest gears available to humbled dawgies and wimps, but that at sunset, we came into Tafi, laid out in the valley like a green bed, and that we rested and then went into the center of town and found a parilla and were revived by sweet wine and humitas en chala and bread and grilled meats, glistening and charred on the plate, and by the company of boisterous families and lively tour groups there to celebrate Easter weekend, and that we were happy, the day and the climb falling into something that felt like peace, and that we rested and rested, for 3 days we rested, before we climbed back on our caballos and charted the rest of the ride to Salta, knowing that there would be more mountains -- there are always mountains in the way -- and that this is the way of the road, but that at the end of the day, the mountain would be behind us and that there would be food and wine and rest, and though we had no right to ever expect it, peace, the peace that comes after a hard and honest struggle up a mountain.