Cerro Penitentes: Aconcagua's Mirador

I stood on Cerro Penitentes gazing out at the vast Argentinian Andes. Jagged peaks rising from the landscape as far as I could see. LLMs told me that this was the best place to view Aconcagua, the highest point in the Americas.

But all I saw were equally tall and stunning peaks, none towering over others. I scratched my head with my frigid fingers asking, “Which one is Aconcagua?”

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Aconcagua rises to 22,838 feet in elevation, 2,528 feet higher than North America’s highest point, Mount Denali. Such a height earns it the title of the tallest mountain in the Americas and the tallest outside of the Himalayas. The towering peak is near the Argentina and Chile border, a stunning 3 hour drive from Mendoza, Argentina.

I was on a quest to find the best views of the mountain. I wanted to see Aconcagua up close, checking another item off my mental South American bucket list.

The mountain’s most popular overlooks are within Aconcagua Provincial Park, a 274 square mile national park encompassing Aconcagua’s base and the surrounding valleys and mountains. But I was visiting in early November, the start of Argentina’s spring. Most of the park, and the best viewpoints, were closed.

Fortunately, a mountain sitting just outside the park called Cerro Penitentes offered the best views of Aconcagua, even better than those within the park. Since Cerro Penitentes was not in the park you could hike it year-round. Perfect.

Hiking to the top of Cerro Penitentes is a challenging two day, out and back, hike. You cover 18 miles round-trip and climb 5,653 feet in elevation from the starting trailhead at 8,638 feet to the top of the mountain at 14,291 feet. In return for the effort, you experience the best views of Aconcagua.

The trailhead is easy to get to coming from Mendoza. Just hop on Ruta Nacional 7 and enjoy the wonderfully scenic three hour drive.

I traveled Ruta Nacional 7 a few days prior on a bus from Santiago, Chile to Mendoza. So I already knew the route’s beauty. Therefore, I decided to rent a car this time so I could stop and enjoy the scenic mountains.

I also stopped at the charming small town of Uspallata. Uspallata is a popular stopping spot along Ruta Nacional 7 due to its location about halfway between Mendoza and the Chilean border. The last, and only, real town between Mendoza and the border.

I grabbed a savory empanada lunch and stretched my legs by walking the town. Granted, it was a quick walk since it’s a one stop light town with two main roads.

Uspallata has a vibe similar to those interstate towns you frequently see in the United States. Those small towns that are a bathroom break away from major cities where the exits are stacked with Pilots and Flying Js, and there are more Mexican restaurants than Latinos.

That’s Uspallata. Except its empanadas and your typical small Argentinian full-service gas station.

The trailhead is an hour and a half drive from Uspallata, taking you into the heart of the Argentinian Andes. The drive’s beauty forced me to stop every ten minutes for pictures. The steep mountains and deep valleys whispered to me like the Homeric Sirens, leaving me unable to resist the call to pull over and snap some photos. So my trip from Uspallata took over two hours. But well worth it.

Although easy to get to, the trailhead is not easy to find. It is a small discrete dirt lot on the left side of the road. No signs and no other cars. As guideposts, it is after the town of Los Penitentes and before the primary entrance to Aconcagua Provincial Park.

If there are signs saying what the lot is for, you are at the wrong place. If you don’t think you are at the right place, you are.

The hike to Cerro Penitentes’s summit is a tale of two hikes. Day one took me to Refugio Grajales, an established campsite at the base of Cerro Penitentes. It is five miles to the campsite with a slight elevation gain of 1,934 feet (from 8,638 feet to 10,572 feet). But the elevation gain is gradual, no steep climbs or drops.

The hike follows a gentle stream upstream, as the stream gently flows down a valley. The valley surrounds you with beautiful, snow capped, peaks and tranquility. A peaceful and easy stroll along a valley floor. There are no views of Aconcagua, however, as the mountains surrounding the valley block any views beyond their protective walls.

There were stream crossings, though. One was knee-level, requiring me to ditch my boots, roll up my pants, and brave the cold early-spring snow melt. Others required playing hopscotch across rocks scattered in the stream, to varying degrees of success.

I arrived at Refugio Grajales, the formal camping spot, after a gentle 4 hour hike. By formal, I mean some open land free of rocks, a water source from the stream, and an old locked stone building just big enough for two people. After pitching my tent near the stream, I went to bed.

I previously said the hike to Cerro Penitentes was a tale of two hikes. Well, the second tale begins on day two.

Day two starts with a four mile climb to the mountain’s summit. A climb that takes you from 10,572 feet to 14,291 feet, for a strenuous gain of 3,719 feet. Sweeping views await you at the top, making the climb worth the endeavor. At least I hoped so.

I stepped out of my tent on the frigid second morning, anxiously waiting for the sun to rise over the mountains and warm up the chilly valley. I packed a small day pack for the climb since I knew I would be coming back down to the campsite on the way back. I wasn’t worried about people stealing my stuff while hiking because it takes people to steal stuff, something I had not seen since I started the hike.

The climb starts immediately upon exiting the tent. It is a well worn and firm trail with rocky vegetation around the trail. This combination delivered moderate incline and sturdy terrain. “I will be at the top in no time”, I thought, as I strolled up the mountain.

But this is just a tease. An hour into the climb, the rock and dirt trail slowly morphs into scree and the gradual incline grows steeper.

For those unaware, scree is a landscape of loose, pebble-sized, gravel often encountered on steep alpine mountains. No vegetation, just gravel. For comparison, think of walking up a steep mountain made of sand. Now, double the difficulty and danger.

Scree is more difficult and dangerous than sand because it gives out from under your feet easier. Ironically, the larger pebbles make it less stable. A wrong step on a steep hill and the pebbles give way under your feet, creating a small avalanche of pebbles that leads to you sliding or rolling down the mountain.

Another nuisance with scree is that the trail disappears. The alpine landscape that scree inhabits lacks any vegetation that helps distinguish the trail from the wider world. It’s small pebbles everywhere. Therefore, you are constantly scanning for small, footprint sized, dips in the pebbles to signify steps of previous hikers.

My pace slowed as scree became more plentiful. Occasionally slowing to a crawl. Literally.

In two sections I encountered dangerously steep inclines with loose pebbles. If the pebbles gave way under my feet then I would slide or tumble more than 100 feet down the side of the mountain. Not only would I risk injury, but even worse I would have to start the climb again.

To maximize stability, I sat on the ground, ensuring five points of contact with the loose scree. Well, six if each butt cheek counts as a separate point of contact. From this position, I slowly butt-scootched sideways across the loose scree, digging my heels and palms into the pebbles with each scootch.

After navigating scree for an hour, pockets of snow started to appear. These were the last holdouts from the spring thaw. The snow was packed, with a hard slushy texture. Not slick and offering firm footing. The firm, mud like, texture resulted from the snow starting to thaw after its nightly freeze.

Compared to scree, hiking on packed snow was a relief. It was firmer and offered more stability since it was easier to dig my heels into it. At times, I went off trail to intentionally hike on snow instead of scree.

After walking, scrambling, and butt-scootching up the mountain for four hours, I found myself on top of Cerro Penitentes. The scree turned into firm, jagged, rocks at the top. Being well above the tree-line, the top was barren of any vegetation.

Also at the top was cold, wind, and a small sign pointing out that this was, in fact, Cerro Penitentes. Just in case you wandered up by mistake.

Thankfully, there were blue skies in all directions. Therefore, the summit offered 360 degree views of the highest section in the Argentinian Andes.

All peaks told the same visual story. All were genetic twins. Towering sharp rocks jutting up from the valleys below. All mountains were bare of vegetation or any life in general since everything stood well above the tree line. The mountains displayed the dark gray color of their rocks with pockets of snow blotting the landscape with white spots.

I took a seat by the Cerro Penitentes sign, added layers due to the wind, and inhaled a snack. A tough climb, but worth it.

Then I got up and started looking for Aconcagua. Given that Aconcagua is the highest mountain in the Americas and Cerro Penitentes is called “Aconcagua’s mirador”, I assumed it would be easy to spot. You know, the tall mountain rising above all the others.

Denali in Alaska (North America’s highest point) or Huascarán in Peru (the highest point in the northern Andes), for example, are impossible to miss. Their snow-capped peaks tower over their surroundings and you can see them from miles away. You don’t have to look at a map, you don’t have to orient yourself. You know.

Aconcagua is different because every mountain around it is large. The relative height between it and its surroundings is not as stark.

Seeing that no mountain clearly stood out as “the one”, I started looking for the highest mountain. Looking and squinting, I saw one that appeared slightly higher than others. Then I took out my topo map and GPS on my phone to ensure I was facing the suspected mountain. I was.

Still not 100% sure, I started looking at pictures of Aconcagua on my phone and comparing them to the suspected mountain, as if I was picking Aconcagua out of a police line up. Finally, I was fairly certain I was looking at the correct suspect. Facial features matched, height comparison with surrounding suspects aligned.

It was only when I confirmed which mountain was Aconcagua that I appreciated the mountain and surrounding views. Cerro Penitentes truly does offer unbeatable views, both Aconcagua and the surrounding peaks.

Although the view of Aconcagua’s south face is amazing, the mountain itself does not wow. It doesn’t pop. Nothing like seeing Denali or Huascarán up close. Those two mountains enchant you; hypnotize you. Aconcagua is just another mountain, only larger.

The reason is two-fold. First, the height disparity between Aconcagua and surrounding peaks is small. For this reason, you do not feel like you are looking at the highest point outside the Himalayas. You do not have any signals telling you that the mountain is really, really high.

Second, it is not symmetrically pretty like Denali and Huascarán. The latter two form giant, snow covered, domes. Domes towering over their surroundings, as if they are gods among children.

Even if you knew nothing about either mountain, you would look at each and say, “Wow, that mountain is beautiful.” If you knew nothing about Aconcagua, you might not even comment beyond, “Wow, all these mountains are beautiful.”

But there is still something special about gazing upon the highest point in the Americas from a vantage point which took effort to achieve. You know you are looking at the Americas’ mightiest mountain from a view few will experience. That makes the view savory.

Also, the views of rugged and barren peaks in all directions make the climb well worth it. Cerro Penitentes offers some of the best views in the Andes and the views are even sweeter when you work for them. And work for them I did.