Headed North...

Clayton here. We're in a city called Comodoro Rivadavia, in Argentina on the Atlantic coast. We left Puerto Natales the day after we finished our hike, arriving in Punta Arenas. There our hopes of making a cheap trip to Antarctica were dashed. Two years ago (apparently just after our guide was written) all the tourist agencies decided to cancel cheap standby tickets. I guess everyone was standing by. There was still a chance to go with a naval supply ship but there were no more trips scheduled this summer. We knew it was a long shot anyway. Seeing the penguins that afternoon more than made up for our disappointment. Strange creatures, they are actually somwhat boring, though they make some pretty strange noises. Next morning we travelled as far south as we could, to Ushuaia. Our first night was on the floor of a hostel, under the stairs, as every place seemed to be booked up. But it was a free night with free breakfast. We had an impromptu tour of the fire hall, which you would have been interested in Daniel. Spying the golf course, we knew there was no way we could resist the temptation. The southernmost course in the world. Aficionados out there will be interested to know that, like the water in the toilet, the ball actually spins the opposite way. This could be the only reason for achieving my highest score ever, losing six balls in nine holes. Moving on, the Parque Nacional Tierra del Fuego was small but pretty, and it contained our furthest point south in our journey, which is logged on Piet's gps. Ruta 3 in Argentina, the last part of the Panamerican Highway, 17800kms from Alaska: the end of the road. For us it had been km 20020. We made it to Tierra del Fuego. Our goal has been reached. Yaayy!... I don't know what else to say. Somehow it was almost anticlimactic for me, but that's not quite the right word... just strange. After over three hundred hours on buses, with nothing to do but contemplate our goal of the furthest point south, all we could come up with was, "Well, we can only go up from here". The land was again beautiful. Mostly flat prairie, very reminiscent of home, until you reach the south end of the island, where you are in low mountains again. We could see the Beagle Canal from the shore of Ushuaia, where Darwin sailed past on his ship, "The Beagle". When it came time to start heading north we decided we'd try hitching. Our goal was Rio Grande, only 220 kms away. It took four hours and two Mitsubishi trucks. We kept dry under the tarp as it was raining most of the time (I knew I brought that thing for something). And Piet's radio picked up the last bit of the football game between Boca Juniors and River Plate, just in time to hear the announcer scream "Gooaalllll!". It was a memorable experience for me, the first time hitch-hiking. Our attempt the next day didn't go so well. We had intended to make it to a point of confluence about 40 kms away, but couldn't rent bikes, and after an hour and a half of walking without someone so much as slowing down we decided to turn back. The rest of the day was spent reading by the woodstove in the hostel, the first time we had spent really just relaxing since we began the trip. Felt good. Rejuvenating. Caught an early bus to Rio Gallegos, crossing back over the Magellan straight, leaving Tierra del Fuego behind. Then we took a succession of trips arriving at Sarmiento, where we observed a 70 million year old petrified forest. Apparently a catastrophic natural disaster of some sort, like a volcanic eruption or a hurricane (maybe a flood, as some would suggest), knocked the entire forest over, covering it with silica and water, which eventually replaces the material in the trees to form trunks of rock. Over time the wind and rain have exposed the broken pieces. Quite a sight. The "wood chips" sound like broken glass under your feet.
And now we are back on the coast, waiting for a bus to Puerto Madryn, where we hope to see some marine wildlife. It'll be two nights in a row on a bus, but at least we are going up again. Somedays I can't wait to be home, that feeling always returning but never lasting for too long. I guess we just wish you could be here too, then we'd have the best of both worlds.
P.S. We will try to keep more consistent updates. And Joel, our German is rusty. What did you say?