Jun 29, 2026 · 23 min · 10 segments
Three stories set on some of Latin America’s loneliest roads. A worker in Patagonia encounters travelers who seem to exist outside of time. A father driving along a Guatemalan highway in the dead of…
I arrived when the town was even smaller than it is today, before new hotels started popping up everywhere, and before tourism grew as much as it has in recent years.
I work in construction, and over the years, I took part in projects all throughout this area, many of them in the town of El Chaltén.
There, we built cabins, extensions, guest houses, and some of the hotels that today receive visitors from all over the world during high season.
That's why I know the roads leading there quite well, roads that become impassable in winter.
And it's precisely for that reason that I've never been able to find an explanation for what happened to me.
Though I have theories, which I'll share at the end, theories that I'm not sure frighten me more or confuse me more.
For those who don't know El Chaltén, the town changes enormously when that time of year arrives.
Workers leave, especially in July and August, and even the road to the village becomes dangerous.
At the time, we were working on an expansion being done at a hotel, a practically brand-new hotel, one more of the many projects appearing in those years.
That morning, I had to bring some materials needed at the site before it was shut down for the season.
I remember going several kilometers without seeing a single person, just the road, the mountains in the background, and that particular silence Patagonia holds in winter, when all you can hear is the frozen wind, the silence of the end of the world.
I arrived when the town was even smaller than it is today, before new hotels started popping up everywhere, and before tourism grew as much as it has in recent years.
I work in construction, and over the years, I took part in projects all throughout this area, many of them in the town of El Chaltén.
There, we built cabins, extensions, guest houses, and some of the hotels that today receive visitors from all over the world during high season.
That's why I know the roads leading there quite well, roads that become impassable in winter.
And it's precisely for that reason that I've never been able to find an explanation for what happened to me.
Though I have theories, which I'll share at the end, theories that I'm not sure frighten me more or confuse me more.
For those who don't know El Chaltén, the town changes enormously when that time of year arrives.
Workers leave, especially in July and August, and even the road to the village becomes dangerous.
At the time, we were working on an expansion being done at a hotel, a practically brand-new hotel, one more of the many projects appearing in those years.
That morning, I had to bring some materials needed at the site before it was shut down for the season.
I remember going several kilometers without seeing a single person, just the road, the mountains in the background, and that particular silence Patagonia holds in winter, when all you can hear is the frozen wind, the silence of the end of the world.
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