The Sierras de Córdoba belong to the Sierras Pampeanas, a scattering of ranges that march north and south along the eastern flank of the Andes. They sort themselves into bands. The Sierras Chicas run along the eastern edge, rising abruptly above the plains and the city of Córdoba. West of them stand the Sierras Grandes, holding the highest summits, crowned by Cerro Champaquí at 2,790 meters. Their rounded contour tells a story of deep time and dry air. Even on the loftiest peaks, the winters are so parched that little snow accumulates, and there is no trace of the glaciers or frozen ground that shaped mountains elsewhere during the last ice age.

Climb from east to west and you cross an invisible border. The eastern slopes catch the rain, as much as 1,200 millimeters a year, and grow lush. The western slopes lie in the mountains' rain shadow, where the total can fall below 400, and the land turns Chaco-dry. The plants and animals follow suit, with the lowland life of the Chaco giving way, high up, to species more at home in the Andes. Above roughly 2,000 meters, exposure stunts the trees and grasslands take over, dotted with hardy tabaquillo woodlands tucked into sheltered hollows. It is a compact lesson in how altitude and rainfall draw the map of life.

More than a hundred bird species live in these mountains, two of them found nowhere else on Earth. The Córdoba cinclodes breeds only here, haunting the tabaquillo groves near water, and Olrog's cinclodes keeps to grassy, rock-strewn slopes by the streams and lakes. Overhead, the Sierras offer something rare: one of the few places outside the Andes where wild Andean condors still ride the updrafts, best seen soaring above the cliffs of Quebrada del Condorito National Park. Not all the news is good. Generations of cattle grazing have reshaped the land, and ranching and hunting have thinned the native mammals badly, a reminder of how heavily even gentle mountains can be used.

Few people live in the mountains themselves; there is little arable land, and most of Córdoba's population stays down in the city. But the cool air has long pulled visitors up. Wealthy córdobeses built summer resorts in towns like Alta Gracia and Jesús María, and today Villa Carlos Paz, Cosquín, La Falda, and Villa General Belgrano draw holidaymakers by the millions. Cosquín alone is a name known across the country for its long-running folk music festival. The valleys carry an unexpected accent. A large German-Argentine community settled here, and the region is known for its craft beers and Alpine-styled villages like La Cumbrecita, where the architecture would not look out of place in Bavaria. Old sweet-wine country around Colonia Caroya and Villa Dolores has been joined by ambitious new boutique wineries on the cooler eastern slopes, coaxing serious vintages from these high terroirs. One local label, Familia Navarro Torre, even took gold at the Vinandino competition with a Cabernet-Malbec, proof that these gentle, ancient mountains still have something entirely new left to offer.