My visit to the Perito Moreno glacier a couple of hours away from El Calafate, Argentina, was an escape to a landscape of jagged white and blue ice. It stretched past the mountains in the distance and clouds clung to the far reaches of the glacier. A milky blue-gray lake lapped at one end of the glacier and transported thick pieces of ice away from it.
The heavy silence that hung over us like the clouds on Perito Moreno was only broken by camera clicks and the thunder-like sound whenever a piece of ice – no matter how small – broke off the glacier and collided with the lake water.
Our flight from Ushuaia to El Calafate, Argentina, was like crossing over into another world, another culture altogether. The land was barren and desolate compared to the wild backdrop of 
The Rio Mendoza, or Mendoza River, was muddy and resembled chocolate milk that rushed over sharp stones and rounded boulders. (Billboard ads for Nesquik even showed the milk-loving bunny surfing down the chocolate river.) Like the bunny, I rafted down Rio Mendoza, trapped in a boat with a group of women who would scream with every wave and then wipe the water from their wide eyes, exhilarated, as if they had just survived a hurricane. Cold water flowed down my wetsuit but was instantly warmed by my heart-pumping body heat.
