Cueva de las Manos: A journey through gravel and history

Cueva de las Manos summarised for you: A story steeped in history with a highly adventurous touch to get there, more so if you put your confidence into maps.me.

Camped in Patagonia National Park, we decided this was the perfect base to visit Cueva de las Manos. Just 156 kilometer of Argentinian gravel, fuel calculations, and a lunch gamble stood between us and this UNESCO World Heritage Site. What could possibly go wrong?

After a mere 39km of sandy bits, slithery wheels and rhea distractions, we reached our first stop, Bajo Caracoles. This was our intended stop when crossing the Paso Roballos border, but, as expected, there was no camping spot here. On the bright side, they did have fuel! Step one of our rather unprepared day trip had gone well.

This place was also our first interaction with the human world in Argentina. First impressions? Cheap fuel, pricey food and friendly people. Oh, and very peculiar sandwhiches! How can I best describe them to you? Bare with me here. Imagine huge squares of white toast bread, but without any hint of a crust. Now, layer these huge squares on top of eachother with in between each layer either cheese and mayonaise or ham and mayonaise. Once you’ve finished layering this imaginairy sandwich, cut it diagonally so that you end up with 2 triagles of layered bread. The name of this special sandwhich: Sandwich de miga or sanguches. At €5 per sandwich, it wasn’t cheap, but it kept us going.

Onwards to Cueva de las manos! From Bajo Caracoles, take a left on Ruta 40 and turn right on the second gravel road, about 3 kilometers out of town. There is even sign and everything! Now, listen carefully, whatever your gps, app or phone may be saying, without careful consideration, don’t take the gravel road about 40 kilometers north of Bajo Caracoles (Acceso 1 Cueva de las Manos). I’ll explain why later.

The next 47 kilometers offered easy gravel and alien-like landscapes. Exactly like before (link to previous blog), the stones crunched under our wheels in symphony with the rocks pinging off our bash plates. Thankfully, the infamous Patagonian wind had decided to take the day off!

Arriving at Cueva de las Manos, we got a ridiculous looking helmet in exchange for paying for our entrance tickets. Thankfully the helmets came with a guide to show us around! A small path paved with loose rocks led the way. At first, it seemed like just another oasis, but soon, the cliffs came to life. Handprints, strange animals and figurines in vibrant reds, blacks, yellows, and whites, provided a breathtaking glimpse into humanity’s past.

Never heard of Cueva de las Manos? Let me give you the briefest of summaries: it is famous for its stenciled handprints, it’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site and it dates back over 9,000 years.

If this was enough for you, please skip to the next paragraph. If not, here are some more fun facts: the artwork was created by ancient hunter-gatherers using natural pigments. Red ochre from iron oxide, blacks from charcoal, yellows from hydrated iron oxide and whites from kaolin clay. These pigments weren’t just cladded onto the wall, oh no! They were heated and mixed with animal fat, water or plant juices and sprayed onto the wall using hollow bones. The colors remain so vivid today, it feels as though they were painted just yesterday. More than mere art, these paintings travel through time, telling a story of survival, culture, and connection, forever etched into the rugged Patagonian landscape.

After taking in our dose of overwhelmingly beautiful history, it was time to discover the secrets of the ancient valley below. The same valley that helped people survive thousands of years ago! With the day slipping away and about 80 kilometers of gravel ahead, we took a quick walk down, a biscuit-and-water break by the river, and then headed back to our motorbikes.

Had we been smart, we’d have returned the way we came. But without Argentinian SIM cards, maps.me’s shorter route to Ruta 40 seemed like a great idea. As evening approached, we assumed it’d be faster. Surely?

It may not have been faster, but if for sure didn’t give us an option to turn around. After taking a right, the road suddenly dove steeply downhill. It seemed that according to some Argentinians, the best solution to improve steep roads must have been to add more gravel and mix it in with some occasional bigger rock. With no way to stop, we slithered downhill, fully focussed on staying upright. After this the road could only get better, right? And anyhow, the chances that our tiny Honda CRF250L’s would be able to carry us back up felt rather slim.

It got better, but then it most certainly got worse. Much worse. Descending into another valley, we saw a steep climb ahead and wondered if we’d make it out. Both options looked equally bad, so we pushed on, imagining that we actually had a choice in the matter. Gun the throttle, shift down in gear and eyes pearsed ahead, determined not to spend the night here.

The sound of our otherwise rather silent CRF250Ls echoed across the valley as we danced a jig, sprained a tango and hurt a jive on our way up the mountain. Jonas first, me following in his tracks. Then I heard a message across the intercome I rather wouldn’t have: ‘My bike has stalled, keep going as long as you can’. Jonas, who most certainly is the better rider of the both of us, had stalled. My concentration was in the game. Feel the bike, listen to the engine and try to avoid the most treacherous heaps of stones. As by a miracle, I passed Jonas by and kept dancing upright. I danced up the hill, I danced across the rocks and I danced around the corners. For once my dance only came to an abrupt halt to wait for Jonas to get back on track.

Finally, the road leveled out. The gravel thinned. Exhausted, giggling and covered in swet we reached Ruta 40. For once a paved road truly felt like a blessing! At the exit, a beautifully large sign greeted us: 4×4 vehicles only. So, my dear friend, hereby I can say, you have been warned!

From here on life was back to normal. A little more road, back along the sandy bits, slithery wheels and rhea distractions and hup, there was our tent.

Dinner you ask? Well, that consisted of heated beans mixed with some tomato sauce served with tea and a buffet of utterly crumbled biscuits. And you know what? For once, we didn’t care. What a day! Yet another one to add to our mental happy place!