Our Winnebago Revel Just Completed 35,880 Miles from Alaska to Argentina!
Lessons and highlights from a 20-month overlanding journey down the Pan-American Highway.

By: Peter & Kathy Holcombe

We’ve nearly reached the end of the Pan-American Highway. It’s a moment I have dreamt about for almost a decade, but I can actually see it now. Our Winnebago creeps up, up, up the final hill. The rocks and dirt crunch underneath our tires as we slowly make our way up the rough track. It is overcast, with a light drizzle of freezing rain. There are waves crashing against the rocks that line the Beagle Channel to my right, and a rolling meadow with guanacos (alpacas) to my left. Just a few more feet up to a closed gate that indicates the property line of the Argentinian Naval observatory. 

We pull over onto a wide shoulder that marks the end of the road. I open the van door, and the wind violently snatches it from my grasp. The sleet stings my face as I step outside. I clutch my jacket around me, trying to insulate myself from the Antarctic winds, but it doesn’t help. We give an obligatory whoop in celebration of our accomplishment, after all, it has taken us 35,880 miles and 606 days to get here.

Kathy and Peter celebrating a successful mission at the end of the road in Ushuaia, Argentina.

I clamber over to the edge of the earth and look out across the sea. It is dark and menacing today. There are dolphins hunting in the whitecaps below. An albatross soars overhead. The rain and wind increase their fury and force us back inside the van. It’s wild and wicked here, and too uncomfortable to withstand the harsh elements outside.

Honestly, I thought I would feel different here. I imagined the ending of this epic journey across the Americas to end more like a movie: where the hero crosses the finish line in slow motion with dramatic music welling up in the background, with hordes of people cheering and celebrating from the sidelines. But today, it’s just our friend George, Peter, and I creeping toward the end of a long dirt road. The blast of the wind is our only soundtrack … a bit anticlimactic if I’m being completely honest. But really, it has never been about reaching the end of the road. 

Traveling the last few miles to the southernmost point that you can drive in South America, about two hours southeast of Ushuaia, Argentina.

Over the years, I’ve written dozens of articles that cite the definition of overlanding as self-reliant adventure travel to remote destinations, where the journey itself is the main goal. But today, sitting at the end of a very long road, those words echo through my thoughts in a profoundly different way. I realize that this journey was never about getting to this location at the end of the earth, but rather the thousands of simple yet dazzling moments that we experienced along the way.

As I look out across the tumultuous sea, through the drizzle that meanders down the windshield, I can’t help but reflect on those beautiful moments and search for meaning in this undertaking that has consumed us for the past 20 months. 

Reveling in the shadow of giants, Cerro Torres National Park, Patagonia, Argentina.

How Did We Start Traveling the World in Our Van?

Almost 10 years ago, we set out on an audacious mission to take a Winnebago around the world. It took us a few years to get all of the wheels in motion, but in 2019, we shipped our Winnebago Revel to Europe and spent six months exploring 19 countries across the pond. The next phase of our Around the World journey was sidelined by Covid in 2020, but we continued to make plans anyway. 

As global stability returned, we decided to set our sights on “The Greatest Road Trip on Earth,” and drive the Pan-American. Now, most people think that the Pan-American is a single road, one long continuous swath of asphalt that traverses the Americas. And there certainly are roads throughout the Americas that are identified as the Pan-American Highway. But typically, “driving the PanAm” is more of a colloquialism for exploring every interesting nook and cranny across 20 countries in the Americas as you progress in either a north or southbound direction. 

Famagogo’s route through the Americas.

Our Pan-American Overlanding Kickoff in Alaska

On June 30, 2023, we set out from Colorado, heading toward the top of North America. We drove the Cassiar Highway through British Colombia, the Canal Road through the Yukon, and the Dempster Highway through the Northwest Territories, which led us to the Arctic Ocean in Tuktoyaktuk. A frigid dip in the Arctic Ocean felt like the proper kick off to our Pan-American adventure. 

Peter, Kathy, and Tucker Dog at the Arctic Ocean in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories, Canada.

However, there was still a road to travel that would take us 30 miles further north, the Dalton Highway that led to Deadhorse, Alaska. So, we retraced our steps and continued north, reaching the end of the road in North America on August 14, 2023. It was a calamitous beginning as we broke an axle one mile from the end of the road and spent a very long week learning how to replace an axle ourselves in the mud on the side of the road in the snow and rain. You can watch the YouTube episode of how we rescued ourselves here.

Watching the Kodiak bears feast on salmon was definitely an experience of a lifetime. Kodiak Island, Alaska.

Southbound on the PanAm in Our Winnebago Revel

Once we were back up and running, we were southbound in our Winnebago Revel for the next 20 months! The countries we got to explore along the PanAm were: the United States, Canada, Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay, and Brazil. (In recent years, it has been dangerous and difficult to travel through Venezuela, Suriname, Guyana, and French Guiana, and they are seldom included in PanAmerican itineraries.)

Learn more about the mods and gear we added for this trip in this article.

Overcoming Language Barriers

We had taken our Winnebago Revel to Baja the previous winter, but crossing the Sea of Cortez to mainland Mexico on a ferry boat felt like the level of adventure was greatly amplified. This was partly because of our very limited Spanish. It was easy to communicate in the tourist hubs of Baja, because so many people spoke English, but as we ventured off the beaten tourist path in rural Mexico, we became more and more reliant on our infantile language skills. 

Winnebago Revels exploring off the road on the PanAm!

We often joked that we had the vocabulary of a five-year-old, and therefore experienced the world as a child would. When we placed an order at a restaurant, sometimes we would get what we wanted, and sometimes something completely unexpected would be placed in front of us at our table. The same was true as we navigated borders and police or military checkpoints. We tried our best to communicate with our limited language skills, Google Translate, and pantomime, and fortunately for us, the officers were quite patient and amicable with us.

Essentially, we had a very limited understanding of what was happening in the world around us. We tried to embrace the unknown with the same curiosity and delight as a child, and we were rewarded with kind and gentle people doing their best to look out for the gringos in front of them. We even had some very kind people help us out of a very difficult situation when we got stuck in the Bolivian salt flats! Here is a link to the YouTube episode of our adventures on the Salar.

Hopelessly stuck in the Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia. This could have been the most hopeless we have ever felt as we had exhausted all our options and could not get ourselves unstuck from the saline quagmire and contemplated abandoning our Winnebago Revel.
This maintenance crew from a nearby village spent the better part of two days helping us escape the Salar de Uyuni and would not accept any type of payment for their help. The people of Bolivia are incredibly generous and kind.

Embracing Being Outsiders

Beyond the language barrier, we experienced (for the first time in our lives) what it feels like to be a very strange and exotic outsider. As we rolled into remote rural villages in our Winnebago Revel vans, particularly throughout the backroads of Central America and Peru, locals on the street would freeze and stare up at us wide-eyed, like we were aliens transported from another planet. But often a warm smile and wave out the window would break the spell, and they would light up and wave back or walk up to the van to greet us. It’s incredible how a smile can completely change everything. 

There was no concealing that we were outsiders - our height, hair and eye color, clothing, vehicle, everything singled us out as different.

And it wasn’t just our Winnebagos that singled us out as foreigners. We spent a significant portion of this journey exploring the backroads of the Americas, far from where tourists typically travel. We were often the only people in eyesight with light skin and light eyes, often towering a foot or more above the tallest person in a town that rarely sees travelers. In these rural areas, children would gawk and stare and point and whisper. But a playful smile and wink would often break the ice, and they would slowly approach us and touch our clothes or whisper something to us and run off, only to approach again more boldly a second time. 

I would ask the women in the market a question in my broken Spanish and they would giggle and cover their mouths, a sparkle in their eyes. They would launch into a flurry of words that I could not understand and then show me something they had made, or grown, or had for sale. We would smile and each do our best to communicate. Sometimes I would make a purchase, and other times we would bid adieu each with a smile on our faces and in our hearts. It is joyful navigating the world as a child does, letting expressions and eye contact communicate what you hold in your heart. 

Peter taking a photo with the men who helped get our van free at the salt flats.

I hope that the people we encountered on this journey hold the same fond memories as we do from our brief shared moments. My wish for them is that if they visit the United States, they are welcomed with the same kindness and curiosity that we consistently received throughout our journey.

Feeling at Home in the Most Exotic Places

Driving your own vehicle to foreign lands is a unique way to experience the world. The most noteworthy facet of overland travel is that it allows you to visit places that have not been tainted by mass tourism, and to meet people who are not in an industry designed to please tourists and profit from foreign travelers.

Winnebago Revel next to "Mano del Desierto" sculpture in the Atacama Desert.

Traveling to off-the-beaten-path places in your own RV provides an opportunity to immerse yourself in a community, while still enjoying the creature comforts you are accustomed to, with little impact to the local culture/economy. Traveling with your own home in tow helps minimize travel fatigue because every time you step inside and close the door, you are safely back at “home.”

There were countless times along this journey where I would wake up and have no idea where I was. I could just have easily been in Sedona, Arizona, or the Atacama Desert, because inside my four walls of the Winnebago Revel it is always the same, and that consistency is very comforting on a massive journey such as the Pan-American.

Learn more about the Winnebago Revel

 

See an example of what one of our adventurous drives looked like in this video ...

Shopping in a Different World

Buying groceries was a completely different experience in the rural communities of Latin America. It often involved wandering through a multitude of stalls in an open-air market, interacting with the merchants to negotiate on a price for what you need, and purchasing food that had been sitting out in the open all day long, and often covered in flies. And you had to go to a separate vendor to purchase meat, veggies, fruits, bread, etc. 

It is so very different than a typical grocery store in the USA. While it felt very foreign, and at times seemed unhygienic, the food was always fresh and delicious, and we managed to avoid major foodborne illness throughout our travels.

A typical Saturday market in the Andes.

Exploring the Backroads of Central and South America

Before we left, everyone warned us not to drive at night. While these words of caution are imperative, it is not because of unsavory characters lurking in the shadows as one might think. But rather, because of the free roaming cow, dog, or sheep that might be standing in the middle of the road around a blind corner at night, or the knee-deep pothole that spans the entire road, both of which are almost impossible to see in the darkness.

Guanacos (wild llamas) are frequently seen grazing alongside the road and can dart unexpectedly in front of vehicles, posing a significant hazard.

Hazards aside, driving the backroads of Central America and South America highlighted for us so many different ways that people around the world live. We visited villages where a majority of the houses had dirt floors and windows without glass. Outhouses were customary and hot water unheard of. 

In fact, we went several months without a hot shower, and we even grew to appreciate the exhilaration of a cold-water deluge. Yet, in spite of the simple (and what many people would consider uncomfortable) living conditions, the people there were some of the happiest we have ever met. 

Parked for the night in a truck stop in rural Colombia. During our travels there, we also stayed with a family who explained their local culture and economy to us. It was a very different environment than anything we had ever experienced.

There were weekly pop-up markets in the small towns along our route, where everyone in the community (including dogs) gathered to socialize and swap wares. Yet, we also observed spectacular landscapes decimated by trash simply because there was no system in place to manage the copious amounts of plastic and other garbage that a community generates. 

It is so easy to sit back from afar and form an opinion about people, and where and how they live, but it is something else to really learn about a place and all of the hardships and struggles it faces. Overlanding gives you an opportunity to explore places that are otherwise inaccessible for a typical tourist and allows for a deeper connection to the people who live in those seldom-visited places.

The villages of Peru were vibrant and lively.

Checking Off Bucket-List Places

Before this trip, we each made a list of things that we wanted to do, and that list directed this entire journey. At the top of my list was a trip to the Galapagos Islands. The Galapagos Islands straddle the equator about 900 km off the coast of Ecuador, at the intersection of three tectonic plates. The Humboldt current brings cold water to the islands, resulting in an area that is teeming with wildlife.

Because of their isolated location in the middle of the ocean, we obviously weren’t able to drive our Winnebago Revel to the islands. Instead, we turned over the logistics of this mission to AdventureLife.com and used this as an opportunity to take a vacation from the daily challenges of international overland travel. 

A giant tortoise, Galapagos Islands, Ecuador.

After talking with us about what kind of experience we were interested in, AdventureLife, booked us on a five-day cruise with GoGalapagos on the Coral II. It was a small ship with only 20 guests that took us to the western islands. We sailed overnight and woke up in the perfect position to explore the sea life in the surrounding waters. We each put on our wetsuit, mask and fins and immersed ourselves in the cold, blue depths. 

I wasn’t in the water more than a minute before a curious sea lion swam up and hovered about three feet in front of me. I moved my arm, and like a mirror image, he moved his flipper. I spun in a circle, and he reciprocated. He dove under the surface and I followed, with the sea lion looking back to see if we were still playing Simon Says. A moment later, a second sea lion appeared and swam so close it almost booped me on the nose. 

The two creatures zoomed in circles around me, spinning and turning. I mirrored their movements trying to keep up with their elegant underwater dance. I was caught in a magical vortex of whimsical movement, a whirling and twirling, shucking and jiving, a beautifully choreographed encounter of two very different species, curiously interacting under the deep blue sea. Eventually our song played out, and both sea lions disappeared into the dark blue depths, leaving me completely awestruck from the extraordinary encounter. 

A sea turtle, Galapagos Islands, Ecuador.

As I looked around to find Peter and Abby, I saw them, frantically waving at me, pointing toward an underwater cliff. I quickly swam over and was again caught in a tornado of activity. But this time it was penguins zooming around me at breakneck speed. They are like compact rockets torpedoing through the water. Their speed and precision in underwater flight is mesmerizing. 

Peter broke the spell as he grabbed my hand and led me away from the shore and into the deep bay where our guide was emphatically signaling for us to follow. I was swimming fast, away from the land and into the middle of the sea. I paused for a minute squinting, searching the depths below me. And then a shadow appeared right underneath. It slowly overtook and passed beneath me. One second, two, three, the shadow was still moving below. This thing was massive. Then I saw the powerful tail fluke undulating through the water, sending a thousand tiny bubbles all around me. It was a humpback whale, and it swam right underneath me! 

The magic continued for another five days as we explored both the land and the water that make up the Galapagos archipelago. It is the only place on Earth that is teeming with wildlife that has no fear of humans. We were so impressed with both the directive from the National Park and the crew from GoGalapagos and their steadfast commitment to protect and preserve this exceptional place so that these magnificent creatures will continue to be curious and comfortable around humans for generations to come! 

See some of our underwater adventures and other Galapagos highlights in this video ...

Getting Comfortable with the Unexpected

Tackling a road trip of this magnitude is a colossal undertaking, and one that is almost impossible to plan in great detail in advance. There are simply too many variables to consider over the course of 20 months and 35,000 miles of travel. We started the trip with a big picture overview: when we would need to be in each country to experience the best weather, and to reach the end within our available timeframe. 

Under each country heading, I compiled a list of everything that we wanted to see in each country. As we traveled and talked to people we would add items to the list. Then, before we crossed the border into a new country, we would mark pins on Google Maps of exactly where we wanted to go and try to develop a reasonable itinerary to efficiently hit all of the pins. But the actual daily schedule was usually researched and decided the night before. I realize that not knowing where you are going or what you are doing the next day is grossly outside of most people’s comfort zones, but I find this freedom and flexibility to be liberating and exhilarating. 

Just navigating the twists and turns of Ruta 3N through Peru proved to be an adventure in its own right!

On most evenings, I would study the map and consult the iOverlander app to look for the next night’s accommodations (sometimes a campground and sometimes an unofficial wild camping spot). I would add any points of interest along our route and confirm that there were no hazards or logistical challenges (like a border crossing) that we needed to be aware of. 

Other than that, the day was left open for us to discover as it unfolded before us. Now this did result in some very exciting days. Of particular note was driving Highway 3N through Peru. The wonderfully wild and winding roads through the Cordillera Blanca provided exhilarating and unexpected surprises around every turn. You can travel these roads alongside us in this episode of our Southbound series on YouTube.

The Holcombes taking in the majesty of the Cordillera Blanca.

Navigating Healthcare Abroad

Even with the best-laid plans, inevitably something goes wrong, and this trip was no exception. About nine months into our journey, I jumped off a ledge while hiking and injured my ankle … four miles down a deserted trail, in an isolated area of Peru. While unfortunate, it gave me an opportunity to experience healthcare systems in other parts of the world. I went to the emergency department of a public hospital in Peru who X-rayed me (it took three hours and two tries to get the X-ray between power failures) and sent me on my way (without crutches or a brace) and said I was fine. It cost $12.

A month later, I went to an orthopedist with a concierge translator service (in Peru) who X-rayed my foot and gave me an ankle brace. He said I had a sprain and would be fine in a few weeks. It cost $100. He also sent me to a physical therapist who iced my ankle, taped it, and told me to rest. It cost $50. After two months with little improvement, I spoke to a PT friend in the USA who recommended I get a walking cast. Fortunately, we were able to find one the next day in a small city in Peru. It cost $35. 

After three months with little improvement, a local friend in Argentina recommended that I get an MRI. His sister was a physician and wrote me a prescription for an MRI. The next day, I went to the local clinic in San Juan and had an MRI. It cost $100. A week later, they sent the results that indicated a small fracture and a torn ligament. They recommended I continue wearing the walking cast and said I would be fine. 

Kathy trying to get an X-ray taken between power outages in a hospital in rural Peru.

After four months with little improvement, I decided enough was enough and returned to the USA. I went to an orthopedist, was X-rayed and he reviewed my MRI results. Turns out I had two fractures and three torn ligaments. He referred me to a physical therapist. After five weeks of physical therapy (15 visits), I was out of the walking cast for normal daily life, and able to hike two miles in a small brace. I was ready to return to South America! The total treatment in the USA (orthopedist, X-rays and PT) cost more than $2,000 ($200 of which was covered by my insurance). 

As with everything experienced while traveling, it was eye-opening to live life as the locals do and navigate their public services. Because of the low quality of the public healthcare system, many Peruvians prefer Reiki healers (holistic energy work and natural remedies) over traditional medicine, because they believe it is much more effective (and it may well be based on my personal experience in Peru). While extremely affordable, the healthcare system in Peru was very primitive compared to what is easily accessible, albeit incredibly expensive, in the States. While my injury recovery took much longer than necessary due to lack of quality care, it was an important lesson in gratitude for the unmatched excellence of care that we have easy access to in the USA (as expensive as it is!).

Looking Back from the End of the Road

From the moment we set out on this journey, Patagonia was the region that we were most looking forward to. And it did not disappoint! Once we crossed the threshold, it literally felt as if we had reached paradise. 

Kathy and Peter taking in the views at Torres del Paine National Park, Argentina.

The mountains were spectacular, and the rivers were some of the most beautiful we have ever seen. But what was most striking was how untouched it all felt, but at the same time, very comfortable and welcoming. Mile after endless mile of stunning landscapes, exceptional wild camping, exotic wildlife like pumas, nandus, penguins and guanacos grazing on the side of the road. We just wanted to linger a little longer, to take it all in for just another day (or 10). 

Looking back on this journey, it is obvious that we are no longer the people we were at the start. We have become more resilient, more tolerant, more open. Overlanding is more than just a way to see the world, it is a way to be present in it, to connect with the places and people that make it unique, and to gain a deeper understanding of the complexities of our global society. 

In today’s world, where travel is often dominated by technology and mass tourism, overlanding offers a refreshing alternative—one that celebrates simplicity, sustainability, and the power of human connection. It offers a meaningful way to explore the world, to understand it on a deeper level, and to create lasting memories that will linger long after the road ends. And, perhaps most importantly, it serves as a reminder that the journey itself IS the destination.

Pausing for a moment as a Magellan penguin crosses the road in front of the Revels in Tierra del Fuego, Argentina.

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