Prior to our trip, I had reservations about driving through the Atacama Desert. It’s the vast desert we travelled which spans the south-western part of Peru and the top 1/3 of Chile. Questions swirled in my head…Would we be able to make it between gas stations without running out of gas, would we break down in the middle of nowhere with no hope of another passerby for days, would there be lodging and supermarkets, would we be able to keep the kids entertained for long stretches without anything going on outside as we drove, would we run out of water...
As we made our way down through Peru’s portion of the desert and crossed the border into Chile, I found my reservations about this area were not too far off base. It’s hard to convey the feeling of wild and barren surrounding you in this desert. We would drive for long stretches and not see anything. Nothing for as far as the eye can see. No other cars, no clouds, no trees, no weeds, no lizards darting across the road. Not even birds. Just vast expanses of brown and grey rock covered hills stark against the bright blue sky.
Many times, I wondered, is there anything living in this place? Well, in some parts of this desert, the answer is “no.” There were soil samples taken in the Yungay region of the desert and, not surprisingly there were no traces of living matter. None. For someone who grew up in a place with life teeming in every crack and crevasse of the landscape, it’s pretty hard to fathom…. No trace of living matter. Nothing can survive here. Not even cockroaches. This particular area of the Atacama is likened to the surface of the moon by scientists.
And then there is the dryness. And when I say it’s dry, I don’t just mean the heels of your feet start to crack and you’re constantly thirsty. The Atacama Desert is the driest non-polar place in the world. It has experienced extreme hyperaridity for at least 3 million years, making it the oldest continuously arid region on earth. In Iquique and Arica, cities we visited, the average rainfall is 0.04 to 0.12 of an inch PER YEAR. As a comparison, on average, Portland receives 42 inches of rain per year. The normal span between periods of rain for much of the Atacama is four years. And when I say periods of rain, I mean they may receive .05 of an inch. It is so dry, there are weather stations in the Atacama that have never recorded rain. Ever. Supposedly, there hasn’t been significant rainfall in parts of the desert since 1590. That’s over 400 years without any rain, folks!
We would just drive for hours through nothingness and all of a sudden, we’d start to see these eerie little groupings of four walled structures dotting the landscape. They would be cement block walls, some with corrugated metal roofs, some not, grouped as though they were a deserted town. They rarely had anything inside and we never did figure out what they were, but they always signaled that we were approaching a town of some sort.
The little towns we’d pass through were dusty and dry, but the people always seemed to be smiling and warm when we’d stop to restock on water and junk food. We chose to follow the coastal route, when possible, for our desert driving and enjoyed the contrast of the desert landscape meeting the ocean. We had some of the most epic camp spots on some beautiful stretches of beach in this portion of Chile. Our camp spots would be wild and completely devoid of anything resembling amenities, but we became self-sufficient. And we met some really wonderful families camping in these places! Tabor made some of her best friends on the trip so far in these isolated locations.
Another interesting aspect of the Chilean portion of the Atacama are the mineral deposits. As a result of nature’s abundance, mines are everywhere in the North of Chile. Not usually visible from the road, signs indicating a mine off in the hills were prevalent. As a reminder of what goes on in the mines, we would see parts of the massive dump trucks that work at these mines being transported on semis. The dump trucks are so immense a semi could only haul portions of the trucks at a time. The tires alone are 13 feet tall and each truck has six tires! Seeing the parts of these behemoth vehicles was amazing and Nash definitely was in awe. Other reminders of the mines were the red 4x4 trucks carrying mining equipment and workers. Often, they were the only other vehicles we’d see on the road and they became a reminder that we weren’t alone out there!
The mines have an interesting effect on the Chilean economy in the North. Many people in the North are employed in some capacity by the mines and many business have been built up to support the mines and workers. The universities in this part of Chile offer doctorates in mineral processing and degrees in civil engineering for mines. The mines afford a great deal of wealth in this area and as a result, the larger cities in the North are very expensive. Antofogasta is the most expensive city in Chile.
Somewhere between our stops in the towns of Huasco and La Serena, we started seeing tumbleweeds along the road and the occasional bird flying above. Signs of life in the desert. Not much further on, we started seeing small shrubs, weeds, and the occasional scrubby tree. I was inordinately excited. The occasional tree gave way to stands of trees, small streams, grass, and later, agriculture. Between La Serena and Con Con, the landscape had changed completely and we were no longer in the desert. I found myself wistful for quiet days with just the four of us in the middle of nowhere followed by starry desert nights in our tent.
After nearly two months of driving through the desert, we’ve gained an appreciation for this unique place. It really is amazing. It’s barren and resplendent l at once. We became accustomed to the chill pace of life here, and as the rocky hills gave way to forests and fields, Ross asked if I thought we would miss the desert and the peacefulness of seclusion. I had to wonder the same thing.