A story of climbing Aconcagua.
After exiting Aconcagua Provincial Park, roughly 48 hours after reaching the Peak of one of the world's great Seven Summits, we pause our 90s playlist (Mr. Jones is still so over-rated) as we pull up to a generic-looking roadside general store. They sell the usual wares - booze, smokes, mags, Coke (Zero!), snacks. And, thankfully, they also have a little hot food station. I'm exhausted, hungry (hangry, more likely) and just begging for the day to be over. As I'm waiting for my chicken empanadas to be reheated for the rest of the 2 hour drive back to Mendoza, a beautiful, friendly kitty cat crosses the length of the store and rubs his little head on my lower leg. I felt like the reality of my world really crashed in to me at that moment. The adventure is over and I miss my cats. The beautiful, annoying little shits that they can be. I miss their cries for 7pm supper and the 45mins of staring at me that precedes the feeding time, as if I've ever forgotten a meal. Funny, they can tell time when it's time for food.
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