With only two short 8 hour bus rides Viviana and I stepped off into the town of Ushuaia and began searching for the house of Ricardo, whom we had contacted through couchsurfing. Ricardo was in the middle of some serious construction on his house, but still found space for us in our own room with a view of the street. After
exchanging only a handful of words, Viviana and I set out to celebrate our arrival. We started the festivities with some hefty steaks and sub-par piña coladas and kept the night going with stouts and ales. After a few hours at an Irish bar, chatting with perhaps the only 3 irish people in town, we were feeling nice and warm inside. At around 4AM we stumbled back to the house to find that Ricardo was waiting up for us, perhaps worried we had gotten lost along the way. The next day we attempted to show our gratitude by making a filling breakfast and exchanging anecdotes with our host. I had reached Ushuaia, but still didn´t quite feel the closure I sought, after all I could clearly see the road 
continuing south out of town. So the next morning we continued down the road into the Tierra del Fuego National Park. With Ricardos help we entered the park before the toll booth opened and were dropped off near the entrance. After a few hours of walking the road came to a sudden dead end in a parking lot and finally the significance of this impasse started to sink in. My original dream of crossing the Americas is complete. From this point on I won´t be going south again, only north, back, towards home. We passed an hour at the end of the dusty road, sharing memories from the trip and contemplating the time and effort it had taken to get down to the tip of the continent without leaving the ground. Here´s a few numbers I have crunched on what it took me to reach the bottom of the continent:Days Traveling: 347
Miles traveled: 14989
Countries Visited: 12
Hours in Bus: 440
Hours on Boats (Sailboats, Canoes, Ferries): 101
Hours in Cars: 103
Hours in Trains: 40
Total hours in transit to get from Portland, OR to Ushuaia, Arg: 684
That adds up to a whole lot of uncomfortable nights, annoying bus salesmen, cramped up legs, interesting conversations, boring conversations, songs skipped on the Ipod, crying babies, bad reggaeton music, smelly neighbors, and one nervous breakdown.
Next I had to remind myself that the end of the road is not the end of our trip. The following morning we woke up and hit the roadside to start the long ride back up. Our first real destination was El Bolsón, about 25 hours to the north. Bus tickets were running about $150, so we knew we were going to have to ´hacer dedo´
(hitchhike) and it didn´t take long before we got our first ride, which took us about halfway to the next major town of Rio Grande. For the second half we were picked up by an ex-soccer player turned volleyball coach named Luchi. We chatted along the way and when we got to the town he offered us a free place to stay in the dormitory at the community sports center where he worked. We wanted to conitue on north, but two hours of unsuccessful hitchhiking convinced us to take our futbolista friends offer and we returned to the dorm, where we slept extremely well despite the complaints of an angry clown unhappy about our presence. The next day we hit the road again. After a few hours wait a big 16-wheeler stopped and picked us up. The driver, Fabian, spoke slurred spanish laced with Argentinian slang and expletives at a mile a minute and didn´t hold back in showing us every side of his dynamically disgusting personality. Within an hour we got off to cross the border into Chile. We seriously discussed the option of leaving him behind and looking for another ride, but he had already offered to carry us 8 hours up to Rio Gallegos and he didn´t seem at all dangerous. So we continued on. At Rio Gallegos we were all too ready to hop 
off, but as he pulled into the service station he mentioned that he would be happy to take us further north, all the way to Comodoro Rivadavia, a 12 hour trip exactly where we needed to go. After a hurried discussion in the parking lot we decided to stay on. This led to a painful 12 hours of listening to more wild stories, complete with animated impersonations of all characters involved, as well as watching him throw numerous pieces of trash out the window and into the pampa. Just as I was reaching my boiling point we pulled in to Comodoro where we hurled ourselves from the truck and quickly said goodbye to our chofer. Despite the consistent trash talking, Fabians actions were actually quite noble. He carried us 20 hours without asking for a dime, and even bought us lunch along the way. Nevertheless, we were all too happy to shell out $50 for a ticket to El Bolsón, and now that we are leaving Patagonia, our hitchhiking will probably be limited to short trips only, although the experience was unforgettable to say the least.Since reaching the bottom I have entered into a very relaxed mood that carries me through the days. Perhaps the only thing that can wake me back up is the realization that at some point the trip will be coming to an end. That means I have had to set a deadline, and soon there will be plane tickets associated with that deadline. It´s looking like we have about 2 months left on the road, but we have packed that 2 months full of activity as we head north through Brazil and possibly into Venezuela. Now in El Bolsón we are just continuing to ride the high of having completed the journey south, and we plan to spend a few days here just enjoying the surrounding mountains and bathing in some sun.
