Robert Annis
May 15, 2018
It has all the trappings of Patagonia: Towering volcanoes, glacial lakes, soaring mountains and scenic trails. But unlike its neighbor Bariloche, San Martin de Los Andes isn’t making headlines—yet.
We’d only been hiking for about 90 minutes when we reached a rocky clearing. Although steep in parts, the hike up the small mountain wasn’t terribly technical. The remnants of that winter’s snowfall obscured the trail in many places, forcing us to improvise our way through thick evergreen forest and occasionally find ourselves thigh-deep in icy snow. While the uphill slog wasn’t enough to leave me breathless, the view did. It was as if an Argentinean deity, a postcard-maker and a group of Instagrammers had conspired to create the perfect travel photo.
A cloudless blue sky served as the background for the snowcapped Lanín volcano, which at 12,467-foot-high (3,800 meters) is the highest peak in this part of Patagonia. There are several smaller peaks to the north and the gorgeous deep-blue Lago Tromen; the border with Chile lay a stone’s throw to the northwest. And it’s because of all this that travelers are starting to flock to the nearby town of San Martín de los Andes, quietly becoming the newest adventure sports mecca in South America.
Cyclists will want to tackle the 62-mile (100-kilometer) Seven Lakes Road ride, which follows Route 234 and passes through both Lanín and Nahuel Huapi national parks, multiple waterfalls, and, of course, the seven lakes: Machonico, Escondido, Correntoso, Espejo, Lácar, Falkner, and Villarino.
On our ride, we come across two tanned Bosnian-Canadian bikepackers, tucking into a lunch of bread, cheese, and tomatoes on a bridge overlooking the Lácar. The pair had left Vancouver two years ago and had just made it down to Argentina. For the past week, they’ve been cycling with an Italian who was riding on a fully loaded 20-inch folding bike. The trio are all smiles as they recount some of their adventures on the road—and seemed to agree they’d saved the best spot for last.
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A few small towns dot the roads between San Martín and the surrounding the national parks. While this isn’t the sticks—you’ll easily find food and drink—you might encounter difficulty obtaining a new bike tube or kayak paddle, so a little prep is key. While much of Route 234 is blacktop, other roads go from pristine pavement to chunky, washboard gravel to pavement again—with seemingly no warning or reason. As a result, riders should definitely opt for wide tires and low pressures.
On my last day in town, Julian invites some of the more experienced mountain bikers to go for a quick ride on the singletrack on the southwest edge of town. For centuries, the indigenous Mapuche community carved the trails along the mountain; and now they’re adapting those same trails for nature-loving outsiders, charging a 10 or 20 peso fee to hike or ride them.
The original plan was to ride the gravel roads up to the top of the mountain, then take the trails down, but as we’re running short on time, Julian convinces one of his pals to shuttle us up. And thank goodness. As the truck noisily labors up the steep switchbacks, we’re thankful it’s the engine straining and not our weary legs.
The ride down is much more fun. As we rocket back to earth, our tires kick up huge clouds of dust. The trails are fast and fun, but we force ourselves to stop every so often to admire the views of San Martín de los Andes below. It’s a good bet that it’ll look much different the next time I visit.
