Salta, Day Three: On the Road to Cachi

Today’s trip took me into the Valle Calchaquies, through the Parque Nacional Los Cardones, to the town of Cachi. We set out early again and within the hour we were in the Cloud Forest. The mountains were covered in tall, tall trees with large green, lush canopies. These trees (the name of which I didn’t write down – sad face) have massive root systems that are actually fed from the top down. The clouds gather around the treetops, and the treetops actually gather the moisture from the clouds then carry it down to the roots of the tree vs. the roots gathering the sustenance and feeding the treetops. The cool, moist morning air, the deep green trees, the clouds shrouding the mountains in spots, then clearing or moving on – it was still and mystical, like the dawn of time.

It was good to be in a moist climate after many days in the desert. I sat for a few minutes within the woods and just breathed the damp air, letting it slate what felt like a lingering dryness in my body. It was good.

As we moved on, our guide pointed out large tufts of what looked like cotton in the treetops. In reality, these were spiders’ nests. (((shivvver)))

We entered Parque Nacional Los Cardones and sailed through the mountains, coming upon the Cachi mountain peaks, their nine heads capped in white snow. We stopped again at a long stretch of straight road, originally built so that there is less than a centimeter of deviation from a straight line. And here on either side of the one highway were fields of enormous saguaro cacti beyond what my eye could see. They stood, like sentries guarding the desert, or spirits with sunkissed blond halos around their heads, unmoving waiting for something or someone to whisper some secret that would finally, ultimately free them. They’ve been waiting a long time. The average age of cacti in this field was 350. These sentinels grow very slowly – at a rate of 5mm/year until they reach 50, then more quickly after their childhood as at that time, they reach a kind of critical mass, a size that enables them to absorb more nutrients, faster.

We reached Payogasta and stopped to have a lunch at a place that could’ve easily been in Sonoma – an adobe building with rustic beams protruding from the roof, a lovely patio with rough wood tables and chairs, gourmet twists on traditional Argentinean dishes, and wine. I had a Malbec (which is what this region is famous for) with some great tobacco, earth funk, and tart blackberry tastes/smells. While it wasn’t the best match with my dish, which would’ve been better with a white, I imagined a hearty winter meat dish and this wine, a perfect pair.

Next was the town of Cachi, a quaint and postcard-picturesque colonial burg, where I sat in the town square, drinking in the dappled sunlight and reading my book, watching people stroll by, or giggling as children and puppies played games of tag. Lovely.

After Cachi, we headed back to Salta via another beautiful early evening light drive.

I had a relaxed evening, for the most part, catching up on news and reading my book.

Tomorrow, I would leave Salta for Cafayete – the heart of the Northwest Andres region wine country.