There’s the Cordillera tail, and the windswept plains, the trees that grow sideways and guanacos everywhere, the end of the world’s loneliness, the roads’ dust. There’s also, and above the rest, these small creeks between deep banks, that don’t look much but hold unbelievable slabs, and that you’ll easily fish, leaving the pickup on the road’s side. The sun’s shining, it’s summer in Patagonia.