Salty! In a good way.

On the final leg of the southwest circuit we crossed the Salars Chiguana, Uyuni and Coipasa. The Salar de Uyuni is the largest salt flat on earth, twenty-five times bigger than those in Utah, and by far the most surreal place on the planet.

Between 40,000 and 25,000 years ago Lago Minchin covered the southern altiplano. After it evaporated the area lay dry for 14,000 years, until the emergence of Lago Tauca. Tauca dried up some 12,000 years ago, leaving Lagos Poopó and Uru Uru and the Salars. The Salars were the lowest points in the lake, where, without an outlet to the sea, minerals leached from the mountains collected, forming the salt flats.

An indigenous account holds that Yana Pollera, one of the nearby peaks, fell in love with Thunupa and Q’osqo, two neighboring volcanoes. When she gave birth to a child the two mountains fought over who was the father. Concerned for her child’s safety, she sent it to the south and flooded the plain between them with breast milk so it could feed. Eventually the milk turned to salt and the Salar was formed.

When there’s water on the Salar it reflects the sky, the horizon disappears and the heavens seem infinite. When the Salar is dry it’s an endless expanse of white ground and blue sky, eerily empty. In some areas minerals like lithium have separated the Salar into perfectly shaped hexagonal tiles.

We felt as if were gliding across the Salar, like the surface of another planet. That was, until the jeep got a flat tire, our fourth of the trip, at 100kph. All of a sudden the steering went a kilter, and we started sliding sideways. In the five seconds it took to slow to a stop the tire wall had melted away, exposing the rim and bending the retaining ring at a 45° angle. Thank goodness we had an extra tire and a mechanically talented guide, because I don’t think AAA makes calls there.

The vast expanse is broken up by a few bizarre islands. As last testament to the Salar’s lacustrine origins the islands are coral, now covered in centuries old giant cacti. They’re incredibly inhospitable and harsh, but the one we visited, Isla del Pescado, was actually inhabited by persecuted Inca during the colonial period.

Communities of indigenous people continue to make their living on the Salar today, harvesting salt, borax and other minerals. They scrape the salt into the perfect little mounds pictured here, shovel them into trucks, iodize them and export them to Chile and Argentina. Many people also make their homes, stores and hotels, including the one we stayed in, out of salt. It’s surprisingly warm, since nights on the Salar can reach -50°F. On the margins of the Salar super-hardy people sill herd llamas and grow quinoa.

Again, a picture is worth a thousand words. Or in this case 12,106 sq.km and 10 billion tons of salt.