As this issue of the Quarterly goes to print, twenty of our fellow members will be tracing the very steps I’ll be describing in this article. They were supposed to go on this trip in 2021, however, Argentina had sealed its borders so that even Argentines such as Marcela Ferreyra were stranded abroad for long periods. But not long after the trip had been canceled, those restrictions were lifted. Members were polled if they were willing to still go and a few did rally, and we did a “dry run” of this year’s trip. Last year followed a number of the driest years in Patagonian history: ski areas canceled their seasons for lack of snow, and little rain fell. We on the trip would have never guessed this: we found a wealth of plants, although we did get a little weary of the locals telling us “how much better it ought to be”. I can only imagine what this year’s tour is finding after a very snowy winter!

A special note of thanks must be given to Marcela Ferreyra, a retired professor of botany who has written a number of books on the Argentine flora, mostly concentrating on Patagonia, who was our tour guide for this trip. She is well known to many NARGS members, having spoken at several North American meetings, and given talks to many chapters. Her depth of learning is matched by her wonderful tour guide skills. A trip with Marcela is a trip of a lifetime.

The province of Neuquen, which we traversed from south to north, weaving into and out of various valleys to the Andes, has to be one of the most scenically enchanting spots on the planet. The Andes here consist of dozens of volcanoes, some still smoldering ominously, many clad with glaciers, and jutting as far as the eye can see. On their lower slopes in this province, they are clad for the most part with a forest consisting primarily of monkey puzzle trees (Araucaria araucana) referred to here as “pinos” yet are utterly dissimilar in feel from their distant North American pine cousins. Their bark reminds me of what the skin of some dinosaur must have looked like, and their broad needles and branching also evoke Jurassic sensations. You half expect a Velociraptor to leap out from behind one of them!

And of course, there is the rolling, sometimes grassy, sometimes rocky, Patagonian steppe stretching eastward from the base of the Andes: here we often passed herds of sheep, cattle, or horses driven by gauchos towards the summer pastures. I’m not sure it would be much different in other years, but one of the most haunting charms for me of this entire trip was the utter lack of kitschy touristic signage, the clutter of commercialism that has sullied most gorgeous touristic venues in Europe and North America. Mind you, there are superb amenities in all the scenic lakeside towns, many boasting state-of-the-art ski areas. What they were missing were tourists and the noisy marketing they seem to attract.

We arrived in Bariloche on a crystal clear day, the long, serrated outline of the Andes stretching for hundreds of miles north and south reflected in the navy blue waters of 23-mile (37 km) long Nahel Huapi Lake. The entire region is encompassed by an enormous national park. The west end of the lake is bordered by lush, maritime forests of giant Nothofagus festooned with Usnea lichen where we explored the first day and found a variety of calceolarias, showy orchids, and many other wildflowers in full bloom. The east end of this same lake is surrounded by the beginning of the Patagonian steppe where we found our first rosulate violets and gorgeous cacti including Maihuenia patagonica with rose petals which, alas, were closed. Patagonian steppe is renowned for the enormous number of cushion plants that occur here, quite a few of which (like Oreopolus glacialis) are also found above treeline on the Andes nearby. Oreopolus is in the Rubiaceae, forming dense mounds like its distant Eurasian cousins in Asperula—but the bright yellow color and subshrubby habit are quite different. It formed loose mats here and there along our journey in the steppe but saved its big show for the high peaks. The most widespread and abundant plant on the steppe seemed to be Mulinum spinosum, which some botanists have now transferred to Azorella, which are generally much more compact in growth. Mulinum forms taller, more airy, welcoming cushions studded with yellow bloom—but don’t be fooled! It’s quite prickly.

I remember being surprised looking back at San Carlos from a vantage point on the steppe to see masses of yellow evening primoses (Oenothera odorata). Everything seemed so exotic up to that point, but this evening primrose recalls a half dozen species that grow commonly across the United States. We were to encounter these strangely familiar links again and again. Our two continents have obviously shared floristic elements over the eons.

On our third day, we had acclimatized enough to take a cable car to the summit of Cathedral Hill (Cerro Catedral), the principal ski area near Bariloche, and a floristically rich destination if there ever was one. Few spectacles are more stirring than hiking on a brilliant spring day on top of a mountain with panoramic views of much of Patagonia. Here is where we saw the bright yellow Oreopolus staining whole hillsides yellow and our first alpine rosulate violas. Viola petraea and V. sacculus were both quite common here, but not seen again on the trip. Another alpine I was delighted to encounter was Ourisia fragrans, growing in cool crevices where you would find primulas in the northern hemisphere, and it does resemble a primula more than a penstemon or veronica to which it is more closely related. We found this several times at lofty alpine sites and I kept forgetting to sniff it and see if it is indeed “fragrans.”

Bariloche is the northwesternmost town in Río Negro province. Heading northward from there, we quickly entered and spent the next twelve days in Neuquen province, the main focus of our trip. Here we proceeded on highways skirting the foothills of the Andes, weaving into and out of the major river drainages leading to the Atlantic to the east. We would stop from time to time on the steppe when Marcela would spy some special plant. We would tumble out and find far more than we’d expected.

Along the road paralleling the Alumine river, someone noticed the glint of a cactus flower: it turned out to be Austrocactus coxii forming formidable mounds like some giant Southwestern hedgehog cactus. Luckily, they were in peak of bloom for us, a strange blend of orange and yellow—almost bronze. This is a tint you never find in north temperate columnar cacti. One clump was so spectacular that every one of us took many pictures of it from various angles.

As we followed a river up towards the Cordillera, the first “pinos” came to view—often especially rugged araucarias whipped into picturesque bonsai forms by the lowland winds. The forests thickened, and a crystal blue lake appeared with a few hotels tactfully tucked here and there and some quaint villages adding a human touch to the scene. I realized at one point that the great Swiss lakes might have been like this centuries ago. This is what Tahoe must have been like in the 19th Century. Let’s hope that Argentina can avoid having its fantastic lake country overdeveloped.

Each of these lakeside resorts had access to alpine heights nearby, and we had many vigorous hikes at trailheads near each one. Again and again, we would find a variety of alpines—cushions, shrubby sorts, and the inevitable azorellas and rosulate violas. We found Calandrinia colchaguensis growing especially lushly in moist swales above the treeline near Copahue, looking so similar to Lewisia in its form (they are, of course, related). The flowers varied from pale pink to deep rose. Calandrinia affinis was likewise quite often encountered, although the biggest colonies we found were on the steppe, another example of the shared flora of these two very different ecosystems separated by thousands of meters elevation.

Another plant we found at most of our stops was Rhodolirium andicola, a truly gorgeous amaryllid with bright rose-red flowers. These grew in large drifts on many alpine meadows, but also sparingly on the steppe.

Returning to the steppe from Copahue, we found what became a highlight of the trip for me: I know the scarlet gorse (Anarthrophyllum desideratum) only grows farther to the South. I was not aware that that species had a dazzling orange-yellow cousin (Anarthrophyllum burkartii). We only found this “tangerine gorse” once, on a flat stretch of steppe looking much like any other only here it was studded with enormous cushions bristling with bicolored yellow-orange pea flowers. All of us go through life with a list of plants we yearn to see in nature and perhaps one day grow. There is another list of those spectacular plants we don’t know, and finding them is even more delightful. Tangerine gorse leapt to the top of that list.

One stretch of the steppe was especially full of treasures near Laguna Blanca. Here is where we found Viola trochlearis, an outlandish rosulate violet with foliage stitched as in fine brown lace, with coy flowers poking out here and there. On a similar unpromising stretch of steppe below Laguna Epulafquen, we found dozens of extraordinary rosettes of Viola rubromarginata on the dusty gravel between tufts of grass. Here the amazing rosettes are fringed with fine hair, with a distinct colored margin around the edges—and the flowers are wonderfully speckled white and purple. I am sure dozens, possibly hundreds of photos were snapped here by our group!

We had debated coming up to this lake, our last outing of the trip. The view of the massive Andes rising at the west end of the lake was one of the most imposing of the trip. And not far from the east end of the lake we found the bright, burnished-bronze flowered Austrocactus hibernus—utterly distinct in form and flower from all we’d seen up to now. Here the cactus made compact mounds of procumbent stems. We all sprawled trying to catch the snow-dotted Andes behind the plant. So strange that this genus we were to find again and again is so rarely grown in cactus collections or gardens.

These are but a few of the highlights of a trip I would love nothing more than to retrace all over again! And Marcela and her travel agency are making this tour available next year to NARGS. My advice is to hop on it! I can easily imagine this becoming a perennial event for our society. I can’t think of anywhere that offers such spectacular scenery, rich flora and exotic ambiance—all in a country that is friendly, secure, and welcoming.