Characato

Characato lies about 20 miles west of La Falda along a dirt road. If you keep looking west, it’s more than 30 miles to the next paved road. You have to go even farther north and south to find pavement. (OK, this isn’t actually true. There are little parts of the roads that have creeks going over/under them; these are paved so they won’t wash out.)

There are, we’re told, about 70 houses in Characato, but only about 20 year-round residents. The rest are owned by folks who come out on weekends, or for a few weeks in the summer. In short, Characato feels miles from everywhere, and there’s hardly anyone there. So why did we go?

Well, there’s a lovely little hostel there. And there are mountains to hike into or just watch the clouds move across. And fun rocks of many shapes, and creeks that pass through them, making waterfalls and swimming holes. And sometimes being far away from lots of things, like light and noise pollution, is enough. Sebastian, who owns the place, says, “it’s like being in another century.”

Nine of us went: me & Leticia, Anna, Zeke, and Makail, Leon & Louisa, and Leticia’s cousin Felipe and his partner Meli. Felt & Meli’s truck only held 4 or 5, so 5 of us walked out, taking advantage of the truck to schlep much of our stuff. We set off at 7am, hoping to get a few miles in before the heat of the day kicked in.

If you want to know how far things are, it’s better to travel by land – that was the idea behind our 2012 bus odyssey around South America. It’s even better to travel by foot, and so we headed west out of La Falda on roads that became dirt roads, then became paths that you could get a 4-wheel drive on, then became single-track, then became bushwhacking toward a road we knew was nearby. We were lucky in that the sun never really came out; the day stayed overcast and relatively cool all day.

We stopped a few times for to eat and drink, and about halfway in Felipe, Mel, Leon and Louisa passed us in the truck, giving us mate and facturas. We had left the gradually rolling pampa and crested a ridge that now looked into mountains of rounded soft-looking rocks and patchy greenery. We lived in La Falda for a year and never knew this was here, I thought.

Time passed, and miles passed, and feet got sore, but eventually we could see what must be Characato…several miles away in the valley below. But eventually we were met by Louisa and a few of the very friendly hostel dogs and walked the last few miles in. There are zero restaurants in Characato, and one dispensa (that’s like a little tiny general store) that’s open sometimes. But they made excellent supper for us at the hostel, and we slept well with 23 miles in the books for the day.

The next day we were up before breakfast and 7 of us walked up the mountain that faces the hostel. Tricky finding our way at times; one of the directions was “the hostel dogs will guide you”, but we got out the door before they were awake. (Zeke, Anna, and Makail did it a few days later, and said that the dogs were, in fact, good guides.)

(That’s Zeke up there.)

What else did we do in three days in Characato? Well, there are lots of directions to walk, with creeks and waterfalls to dip in, mountains to climb, views to enjoy. La Falda is not a metropolis, but it feels like it compared to Characato – you can relax here in a way it just doesn’t seem possible in a place with traffic and stoplights and music playing. The stars in Characato were amazing, too, on clear nights. We fantasized about renting or owning a house out here – they say for about $30K you can buy something small, and lots of the houses are places where people have done just that, and come out on weekends or for a few weeks in the summer. But to live here a full year, among the 20 or so full-time inhabitants…that would be something to experience.

There is one road that goes by Characato, which is actually on a dead-end spur of that road. The road is mostly dirt, except when it crosses a river where the usual thing is a vado – a low river crossing with some drainage for the river to pass underneath, but with the expectation that in high water the river will go over the road. On a run one day I came to this scene, after some rain the night before. And an older Argentine couple who had planned to drive a big loop, but hit this about 26 miles from La Falda. A local had told them it might be passable in half an hour; talking with others later that day, I learned that hours later it still wasn’t. They must’ve gone all the way back to La Falda the way they came, or perhaps taken an intermediate road about 15 miles back that may or may not have the same problem. What a delight, I thought, to be in a place where the weather – in this case, a not-so-huge rain – dictates your way out of town.

Felipe and Mel had to leave after two days, and on the third we hired a truck to take us back to La Falda. But there were 7 of us, so Zeke walked the 23 miles, I ran them, and Louisa and Leticia did a relay, each walking about half and taking a ride the rest of the way. We had the truck to carry our stuff, so it was fun and pretty easy – for me the hardest part was getting the last hostel dog to not follow me back to La Falda.

A final thank you to Pablo and Erica, employees of the hostel, who hosted and fed us and answered tons of questions and generally made the place feel relaxing and welcoming. Will I ever be back here? I hope so.