By Patricia Pasini Canedi

It is late March, the onset of fall in a remote wilderness, the west of Argentina's Jujuy province. Driving international route 16, after five hours of travel by four wheel drive, we arrived in Susques. This little high mountain town in a bleak windswept terrain of parched scrub, located at 3,700m above sea level served as the starting point of our field survey.

Leaving behind the eastern tiny adobe settlement, blending into the uniform brown landscape, we took the northern dusty track right. For the first couple of four kilometers, we traversed a kind of wet grassland the native people call vegas-an area watered by surface flow-, perhaps the most significant of the area that gives life to this land of harsh extremes of climate.

From the place known as Casa Quemada (Burnt House) we climbed steep slopes and after a further three rocky kilometers, we reached a road less wilderness where we were to leave our four wheel drive vehicle. But the toughest stretch of our desert journey was just beginning.

Landscapes of unmatched, stark beauty, a dreary gray solitude except for the bursts of green after seasonal rain squalls are the domain of the Andes' most widespread small predators, where the rarest appear to survive in a delicate balance within this harsh environment.

Our destination was 'la Ciudad' (The City), whose bleak, uninhabited bolt of rock resembles a city's buildings, towering above all around it with its small and narrow lanes. The surroundings is blasted by violent winds and punctuated by occasional bursts of sleet or hail. High on this astonishing place, sprawled a scene nearly devoid of color-creviced rock rendered in a thousand shades of gray-, constantly changing before our eyes like a mirage.

Among the last of the untouched places, much of this rocky land is probably karst or exposed limestone riddled with shafts and crevices. The huge study area is characterized by strange piroclastic rock formations, volcanic in origin. This kind of geomorphologic feature made our work interesting and taught us to expect the unexpected.

The icy wind stirring up dust clouds put the sun out. The temperature dropped to -15°C and fat drops of rain fell followed by a furious bombardment of hailstones. Sheltered from the hailstorm, our refuge was the rock below, riddled with sinkholes. Inspired by the Andean weather, silent and immersed in my own thoughts, I came to think of the marble plateau as a realm of magical shapes etched by furious forces of nature. As the sheets of rain ceased, we became witness to lizards colored like pieces of rainbow splashed up out of the gorge and displaying thermoregulatory behavior: the distinctive alignment to the sun and daily basking patterns. What an incredible sight!.

We heft our rucksacks, quickened our pace and soon came across a trackless desert. Searching the loose sandstone for clues, we continued the tiring walk toward our selected site. During two kilometers of tracking cats on foot, we reached a vast sand mountainscape locally known as huancares (sand dunes) where rodent tracks pattern the sand. Pulling ourselves out of the sand, feeling heavy and, carrying the equipment over rocks is an ardous task. Climbing each dune's pitched face is exhausting.

Draped in a dozen shades of saturated yellow beneath a clear blue sky, sand dunes rose ever higher, until they looked like mountains across northern Argentina's Andean plateau. Here, in this bitter and windswept realm, where precipitation is only 50mm a year-simple plants succeed by keeping a low profile and working their way into the curving, swelling architecture of dunes.

Descending from the sand dunes flank, we uncovered the amazing side of this vastness untamed landscape when we crossed it in search of these beautiful creatures, so shrouded in myth. A short time passed and we found a deep crevice sunk in steep and narrow canyons where wedges of limestone 20m high shaped the rocky walls in the entrance of a cave riddled with shafts. The shaded caving spot was sheltered from the typical hailstorms and spectacular lightning shows created by the worst of the Andes winds. Rodent signs led on to the mouth of a small cave where on sandy substrate, particularly hazardous to trace, we noticed dry scats and scent trails used by cats. We set up our camera photo-trap overlooking a trail, with the infrared detector beam parallel to the ground within sampling site N° 1.

Back to the wild, a week later, emerging from the leeward side of volcanic rock fragments to the desert's surface we headed for the northeast mountains. Nothing was heard but our footsteps and hearbeats. Walking in the rugged conditions of rocky, wild cat habitat on the roof of the world, a world 4000m above sea level meant taking your breath away for the lack of oxygen in the excessively dry air. But even then the field survey continued to pose a challenge which demanded an outstanding effort, our deepest enthusiasm and boldest risk. About a kilometer downhill and straight toward site 1 we finally approached a deep shaft where we found new fresh tracks in the background. It was then when we decided to select this strategic spot as site 2 to place our camera photo-trap.

The subsequent expeditions from Susques were headed east just for one good reason: an easier point of access. Soon we were rolling up the Trementinal dry, braided riverbed created by spring snowmelt. When steep canyons rose on all sides in front of us, we left the truck and started climbing the mountainside-often clinging to nearly sheer rock faces-to reach the peak. We were the only human presence visible on this desert expanse. Once on top, we paused for breath and then headed for south to get back to site 2 and 1 in order to remove the equipment.

Back home, we developed the films and discovered that amongst other animals wandering the area, our cameras had caught different individuals of Pampas cat Lynchailurus sp. in their daily battle for survival. The felids had gently broken the beam to reveal their identities, helping us to achieve our goal: confirm the presence of one of the least known small wild cats. This research expedition allowed us to prove that the region is still home to the most wide-ranging mammalian small predator of South America: the Pampas cat. Even its wanderings marked by prints and scats, this little phantom remains maddeningly elusive in this mountain district which gives the impression of having always been enveloped in a cloud of mystery.