Someone once told me that you can get anywhere in the world in five flights, and to get to Ushuaia it took all five. Fifty-one hours to the end of the world starting from my house in Seattle. 

I met up with Grant Giller at the Houston Airport with a plan of taking the easy way out—at least as far as snowboarding in Argentina goes—by setting a course to the well-trodden resort town of San Carlos de Bariloche. Two flights and a layover in Santiago, Chile, later we touched down to questionable conditions. Descriptions of “aggressively firm” and “bad all the way to the top” from friends on the ground were enough for us to book a last second flight to a city further south, a city all the way south: Ushuaia. We cleared customs, grabbed our board bags and headed straight back to the check-in counter to do it all over again. Two more flights and an overnight layover in the Buenos Aires airport later, we finally touched down at what Argentinians call “El Fin del Mundo.”… 

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