Hitchhiking to Ushuaia: An Adventurous Journey to the End of the World in Tierra del Fuego
“Each man should be able to marry two women, that way no man has to be considered a cheater,” the trucker rationalized, taking long drags on his Benson & Hedges cigarette. Blowing smoke politely out the window, his cackling laughter turned into a deep cough, revealing a glint from his gold tooth.
While hitchhiking across one of the world's most barren and isolated landscapes (watch our hitchhiking video here), smiling and nodding proved the best approach with this outspoken Argentine driver. I sat in the passenger seat, with Dani in the middle. He bragged about his 29-year-old wife in the Dominican Republic and handed us lollipops, which we politely kept wrapped. We passed groups of guanacos grazing on the vast Patagonian steppe.
Though his views were outdated, he wasn't the dangerous criminal we half-feared when we learned in Porvenir we'd need to 'viajar a dedo' – hitchhike – to Ushuaia, the world's southernmost city.
Porvenir: Setting the Stage for Our Tierra del Fuego Adventure
For 35 days, we had traveled southward across the continent by bus, crisscrossing the Andes between Argentina and Chile. We then took a ferry from Punta Arenas across the Strait of Magellan to Porvenir, a remote Chilean town and lesser-known gateway to Tierra del Fuego.
Porvenir means 'future' in Spanish, yet this timeless town of 5,000 feels unchanged by time. Our guesthouse hosts in Punta Arenas warned, “There's nothing for visitors there.” Still, we were drawn to experience this far-south outpost. Most travelers bus the longer route around, but we chose to cross straight through Tierra del Fuego.
From the ferry, a taxi took us to our excellent Bed and Breakfast, Hosteria Yendegaia (reviewed here). Casually, we asked the driver about buses to Ushuaia.
“No bus,” he said firmly. “Not to Ushuaia, not anywhere.” Porvenir has no bus services in or out.
Vicente, our trustworthy host, replied matter-of-factly: “Just hitchhike. It's how it's done on Tierra del Fuego.”
Hitchhike? Two women across hundreds of miles of wilderness?
I glanced at Dani, her adventurous spirit shining through. “It'll be fine,” she assured me. “We're safer here than hitchhiking in the U.S. or Europe.”
Hitchhiking Across Tierra del Fuego
By 9 a.m., packs ready, we walked to the main intersection. Dani thumbed confidently; I scanned nervously. Within minutes, a pickup stopped – a farmer's daughter and her young brother invited us in.
From Farm to Remote Roads: Our First Ride
The bed held beets and sheep manure, so our bags stayed inside. “First, my house for the dogs, then the estancia,” she said. Estancia meant working farm.
We drove 30 minutes up gravel roads, chatting politely, to a yard of rusty cars and tin shacks. Cats roamed; dogs were chained in the truck bed. They enjoyed the ride, tongues wagging.
She sped through stunning hills and lakes, pointing out a semi-truck ahead: “Wait for him.” Then a white truck: “He'll take you too.”
We stopped at a driveway. Alone on an unpaved road, her taillights faded.
Waiting for the Next Ride: Tension Builds
Would the trucks stop? The white one passed, waving no. The blue one approached – and passed. Stranded far from Porvenir, fears mounted.
Then the blue truck backed up. Relieved, we loaded packs on the empty bed and climbed in.
“You'd have been stuck,” he said in a thick Chilean accent. Stoic and kind, his U.S.-made truck mirrored our 'export only' journey.
An hour of bouncing silence led to crossroads: he south, us east to Argentina.
Wind-swept plains; we sheltered in a urine-scented windbreak with graffiti. Dani flagged cars; we pondered overnighting there.
Crossing the Border
A flashy semi with cars slowed, unhitched its trailer. The driver, in a compact high-tech cab, welcomed us. Friendly at first, he was our earlier trucker – sexist remarks aside, he got us through Chilean customs to Argentina.
Final Stretch to Ushuaia
Border officials waved us through routinely – hitchhiking is common here. A young Argentine sped us 88 km to Rio Grande for the bus to Ushuaia.
The clean van felt sterile after intimate truck rides. At 8 p.m., we hunted hostels in Ushuaia – 1,000 miles from Antarctica, 4,000 from Santiago.
Love adventure stories? Check out: Cave Exploring in Belize, Solo Hiking in Patagonia, and Mountaineering Days.
