“I climbed a path and from the top looked up-stream towards Chile. I could see the river, glinting and sliding through the bone-white cliffs with strips of emerald cultivation either side. Away from the cliffs was the desert. There was no sound but the wind, whirring through thorns and whistling through dead grass, and no other sign of life but a hawk, and a black beetle easing over white stones.”  – Bruce Chatwin, “In Patagonia”

Getting to the end of the world takes a very long time.  After multiple flights starting due north in Minneapolis, I found myself arriving at literally the end of the world in El Calafate, Argentina. From 44.9 degrees north to 49.3 degrees south, it would take another three and a half hour bus ride to reach El Chalten, a tiny Patagonian outpost that marks the setting off point for Los Glaciares National Park.