Andes horseback journey: 3-day ride with gauchos

4.47

(15 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

I didn’t expect to feel so small out there — not in a bad way, just… kind of awed. The first morning, after our pickup from Mendoza, we met the horses and the gauchos. I tried to remember my horse’s name (I think it was “Moro”?) but honestly I was too distracted by the cold air and how the mountains seemed to swallow up every sound. Our guide, Martín, handed me a mate gourd and grinned when I coughed on my first sip — apparently you’re supposed to sip slowly, not gulp. Lesson learned.

The ride itself was nothing like those touristy loops you sometimes get. We crossed open valleys where condors circled overhead (Martín pointed them out — he could spot them before anyone else), and sometimes we’d stop just to listen. There’s this silence in the Andes that almost buzzes in your ears. At one point, a herd of guanacos darted off in the distance — I’d only ever seen them in photos before. Lunch was bread still warm from the fire, cheese that tasted faintly smoky, and something Martín called “asado de tira”. I’m still not sure what cut of meat it was but it was salty and perfect after hours in the saddle.

Nights were colder than I expected — even with layers — but sitting around the campfire made up for it. The sky looked fake with so many stars; someone tried to count satellites but gave up after three. The wine flowed pretty freely (maybe too freely for one guy who kept telling the same story about his dog back home). There’s something about eating food cooked over wood while your boots are drying by the flames that makes everything taste better. I fell asleep listening to someone softly humming an old folk song — or maybe I dreamt that part.

By day three my legs were sore but I didn’t really want it to end yet. The gauchos joked about city folks walking funny after riding (“mañana vas a caminar como pingüino,” Martín laughed). When we finally said goodbye, he handed me a little stone he’d found on the trail as a keepsake. It’s still on my desk now — kind of silly maybe, but it brings back that feeling of being somewhere wild and far away from everything familiar.