Good Monday morning!
Jan and I have arrived at Casa Verde in Sucre.
Our flights went off almost without a hitch. The Ottawa to Toronto, Toronto to Panama City and Panama City to Bogota, Colombia legs were uneventful and pleasant. We flew with Copa Airlines and Avianca (Colombian airline) and were pleased with modern planes and great service. The Bogota to La Paz flight left on time (just after 11pm) and was about to land in La Paz on time (3:45am). I noticed the plane was circling a couple of times and then the announcement that due to a major snow storm (yes, it is winter in the southern hemisphere) the El Alto airport did not allow anyone to land or take of. The storm was expected to last another 2 hours, so we would be diverted to Santa Cruz, an hour away by plane. Santa Cruz is in the jungle, at about 300 m above sea level, so perhaps not surprising it is Bolivia´s largest airport. Once we arrived, we waited for information about the next steps. Would the storm let up? Would we disembark and clear customs? Or perhaps we´d be able to get off the plane and just wait in the international waiting hall for updates?
The Avianca crew kept information flowing and everyone took the situation in stride. We were a bit concerned about flying on to Sucre and whether we´d make that flight if it was to leave. Well, at about 6:30 am we boarded the Avianca flight which was to leave to La Paz shortly. We taxied to the runway and the captain announced that it had started snowing again and that we would have to wait until El Alto gave permission. Most people - and certainly we - were sleeping. Nothing else to do really and we were working on a full day of travel already. There were a couple more on again, off again moments and by about 8:30am we took off to El Alto at 4,000m. Seeing the Cordillera Real with its glaciers and 5,000 and 6,000 m summits and the Altiplano clad in snow was beautiful. The landing was quite smooth.
We cleared immigration and customs and were so happy to see Eduardo waiting for us (he will be our mountain guide in 2 weeks when we head into the Cordillera Real)! We had asked him to meet us at the airport so we could hand off our mountaineering equipment to him for safekeeping until we need it. With the storm he had kept track of our flight and waited for us even though we arrived 6 hours late.
Then, moving slowly at 4,000m trying to avoid the altitude headache (we succeeded), we needed to work out our flight situation to get to Sucre. Our initial flight had left and only one other company had seats on their delayed flight (yeah, for the ripples of flight delays when strorms hit). We boarded at 1:20 pm and got to Sucre by 2:20. A 10 km cab ride and we got to Casa Verde. A beautiful B & B in the downtown area of town that Jan researched online. We unpacked, napped for 3 hours and then went out for dinner. We walked to the Plaza 25 de Mayo, the central square, and found many options settling on a trattoria with a cool vibe called Tentaciones. I had the best Chicken Parmesan, Jan enjoyed her pasta, the Campos de Soltanas Riesling (a vineyard in the Ssouth of Bolivia) was tasty and not sweet and the cappucinos were lovely.
It feels great to be in Bolivia again. And we are pleased to start in Sucre, at 2,200 m and not in La Paz at 3,600m, as this gives us a chance to manage our acclimatization process step by step and not just battle the symptoms of living high. We will head to La Paz at the end of the week.
Today, we will meet with Condor Trekking, deal with some electronics issues I have - didn´t find my camera´s battery charger when I was packing - see if I can get any refunds on the other flight we had booked, find some dinosaur tracks, and generally enjoy our first full day in Sucre.
Our transit stats: 34 hours (net flying time about 14 hours), 7 airports, 4 countries, 4 airlines, 1 snow storm, 2 happy travellers.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Bolivia in 2 days
On Saturday we are flying to La Paz. We were thrilled to find a flight on points. Turns out there's no fuel surcharge going to Bolivia, so we just paid the taxes - an awesome deal.The routing is a bit longer than it absolutely has to be: we're going from Ottawa-Toronto-Panama City-Bogota-La Paz then on to Sucre on a local carrier.
Our house sitters are all set up, so we know all will be well at home while we embark on this 5 week mountaineering expedition. Lots of anticipation, wondering whether we are ready. I inadvertently hurt my foot in May in the Adirondacks, basically pretty painful tendinitis in my foot. With lots of physio and stretching, and hot yoga, it has improved tremendously. All that to say, we couldn't follow our plans for backcountry hiking. However, I started joining Jan at hot yoga and since early June I have logged 52 classes :) That has got to help, right!?
We will post updates and photos here as we go and when we have internet access. The basic itinerary is
week 1 - Sucre and area - with a 3 day, 2 night hike up to 3,800 m
week 2 - La Paz and day trips to the Altiplano and Cordillera Real
week 3 - Mountaineering with Bolivian Mountain Guides in Cordillera Real - training week
week 4 - Mountaineering with Bolivian Mountain Guides in Cordillera Real (Chearoco, Chachacomani, Illimani) - summit week
week 5 - Madidi National Park (the jungle)
The itinerary is designed for acclimatization. We will gradually sleep higher and higher as we progress through the first 3 weeks. At the same time we will be active hiking and trekking or day tripping much higher still. In fact, in week 2 we hope to spend a day trip driving all the way to 5,400 metres, just to help the body get used to the lower air pressure and stimulate adaptation to the altitude over time.
We'll see how the mountaineering works out. We have our sights on a couple of 5,000+m peaks and several over 6,000 m. Summits are never a given and we have a lot of respect for the mountains. We are both eager to be in these mountains again and gain all manner of new experiences and deepen our skills along the way, too.
Our house sitters are all set up, so we know all will be well at home while we embark on this 5 week mountaineering expedition. Lots of anticipation, wondering whether we are ready. I inadvertently hurt my foot in May in the Adirondacks, basically pretty painful tendinitis in my foot. With lots of physio and stretching, and hot yoga, it has improved tremendously. All that to say, we couldn't follow our plans for backcountry hiking. However, I started joining Jan at hot yoga and since early June I have logged 52 classes :) That has got to help, right!?
We will post updates and photos here as we go and when we have internet access. The basic itinerary is
week 1 - Sucre and area - with a 3 day, 2 night hike up to 3,800 m
week 2 - La Paz and day trips to the Altiplano and Cordillera Real
week 3 - Mountaineering with Bolivian Mountain Guides in Cordillera Real - training week
week 4 - Mountaineering with Bolivian Mountain Guides in Cordillera Real (Chearoco, Chachacomani, Illimani) - summit week
week 5 - Madidi National Park (the jungle)
The itinerary is designed for acclimatization. We will gradually sleep higher and higher as we progress through the first 3 weeks. At the same time we will be active hiking and trekking or day tripping much higher still. In fact, in week 2 we hope to spend a day trip driving all the way to 5,400 metres, just to help the body get used to the lower air pressure and stimulate adaptation to the altitude over time.
We'll see how the mountaineering works out. We have our sights on a couple of 5,000+m peaks and several over 6,000 m. Summits are never a given and we have a lot of respect for the mountains. We are both eager to be in these mountains again and gain all manner of new experiences and deepen our skills along the way, too.
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| This is the highest spot we've ever walked to: Huayna Potosi, 6,088m (19,975 feet) November 19, 2010 |
Sunday, May 26, 2013
High Peaks serve up the best back country tests
(Scroll down for photos.) Last weekend we shouldered our 40+ pound backpacks and set off on a 3-day back country excursion in the Adirondack High Peak's wilderness. As usual, we carried our tent, sleeping bags, kitchen, the mandatory bear barrels with food, essential toiletries, first aid and clothing to suit every weather with a couple of extra bits just in case.
Friday night we made great time driving to Lake Placid (3 hours), got dinner at the local brew pub and checked in at the Alpine Air motel, as it was too late to find a camp site. The next morning, we set off from the South Meadows area, about 2 miles from the Adirondack Loj, and hiked to Bushnell Falls via the Klondike Trail and John Brook Lodge. The 7 miles (just over 11 km) took about 5 hours: the hiking has some attention-getting uphill sections and enough blown down trees covering the trail to slow us down a bit. Of course, we took a couple of fine breaks along the way. Furthermore, the first bridge has been washed out for a while (Hurricane Irene I think), so we forded the river which tends to slow things down a tiny bit, too. The good news: crews were rebuilding the bridge and it should be finished by now!
Bushnell Falls area has two lean-tos a few hundred yards and a river apart. We went to Number 2 which has a designated camp site beside a mountain stream; we were all set. After setting up and settling in we took an hour to head back to the actual Bushnell Falls, a few hundred yards from our camp, and down a steep, muddy embankment. The falls are pretty and Jan made a sport of climbing around them in her ancient sandals ... because up close and personal is always better. A fun excursion spent trying to take interesting quality photos of moving water.
We settled in to our sleeping bags even before dark and soon fell asleep happy to be out there, on our own, self-sufficient, in gorgeous wilderness.
The next day, we set our sights on Haystack, the 3rd highest 46er with 4,960 feet. We had heard that there would be snow - up to 4 feet - above 3,500 feet. It was hard to image given the summer weather we had been having. But then, there was much late winter snow that we had enjoyed in Ottawa, too. Indeed, once we passed Slant Rock we began to spot snow and as we ascended further, deep snow covered the trail. The spring melt water had been burrowing pathways across the trail underneath the snow pack. We broke through in places as the snow bridges were becoming less stable. The hiking toward summits is steep and slow. It took about 3 hours to get up Little Haystack. Just as we arrived dark clouds started rolling in. The change in weather was fast with visibility quickly reduced; when we reached the summit of Haystack, we could see just a few feet ahead and certainly no longer all the way across to Little Haystack, nor could we see any part of Mount Marcy.
Quick summit photos taken, we set out for the return to camp. A ranger had suggested that instead of crossing Haystack, descending its south side and returning along a path said to be quite difficult at the best of times - and likely treacherous with the snow and ice resulting in much challenging post holing - that we could take Shorey's Shortcut for variety. The way we hiked it, this is not a shortcut at all, quite the opposite, but it was different. Indeed, if we thought we struggled uphill through the snowy path, the downhill on Shorey was even more challenging. We applied all our snow travel skills, digging in heel first and post holed frequently as the snow bridges frequently gave way. Due to the trail's steepness with large boulders strewn everywhere, I went in more than hip-deep in a few spots struggling to gain solid ground again. With the rain falling, the snow and run-off beneath, we both got wet through and through. Perhaps needless to say, the descent took as long as the way up. That is one of the things about the High Peak's: you can't assume that down is faster given the technically difficult terrain.
We made it back to camp safely after about 7 hours covering about 8 miles (13 km) and traversing about 2,000 vertical feet. By now we were completely soaked through and knew we'd get cold as soon as we stopped moving. We quickly decided to use the lean to until we would go to sleep in our tent. We boiled up water for tea as we changed into dry, warm clothes. Then we made dinner and tried to find a way to dry out our hiking boots that were wet inside and out. (see solution below)
With the challenges of the day, so rises the elation. Especially, since we were well equipped and had the sole use of the lean-to, we could review with relish the day's adventures and accomplishments.
The next morning, the rain let up. We packed up, wet clothes off the line making for some extra weight, and set off for the return to our car. The hike out felt easy in comparison to hiking Haystack. We enjoyed the effort and felt awesome after our last ford at South Meadows.
Friday night we made great time driving to Lake Placid (3 hours), got dinner at the local brew pub and checked in at the Alpine Air motel, as it was too late to find a camp site. The next morning, we set off from the South Meadows area, about 2 miles from the Adirondack Loj, and hiked to Bushnell Falls via the Klondike Trail and John Brook Lodge. The 7 miles (just over 11 km) took about 5 hours: the hiking has some attention-getting uphill sections and enough blown down trees covering the trail to slow us down a bit. Of course, we took a couple of fine breaks along the way. Furthermore, the first bridge has been washed out for a while (Hurricane Irene I think), so we forded the river which tends to slow things down a tiny bit, too. The good news: crews were rebuilding the bridge and it should be finished by now!
Bushnell Falls area has two lean-tos a few hundred yards and a river apart. We went to Number 2 which has a designated camp site beside a mountain stream; we were all set. After setting up and settling in we took an hour to head back to the actual Bushnell Falls, a few hundred yards from our camp, and down a steep, muddy embankment. The falls are pretty and Jan made a sport of climbing around them in her ancient sandals ... because up close and personal is always better. A fun excursion spent trying to take interesting quality photos of moving water.
We settled in to our sleeping bags even before dark and soon fell asleep happy to be out there, on our own, self-sufficient, in gorgeous wilderness.
The next day, we set our sights on Haystack, the 3rd highest 46er with 4,960 feet. We had heard that there would be snow - up to 4 feet - above 3,500 feet. It was hard to image given the summer weather we had been having. But then, there was much late winter snow that we had enjoyed in Ottawa, too. Indeed, once we passed Slant Rock we began to spot snow and as we ascended further, deep snow covered the trail. The spring melt water had been burrowing pathways across the trail underneath the snow pack. We broke through in places as the snow bridges were becoming less stable. The hiking toward summits is steep and slow. It took about 3 hours to get up Little Haystack. Just as we arrived dark clouds started rolling in. The change in weather was fast with visibility quickly reduced; when we reached the summit of Haystack, we could see just a few feet ahead and certainly no longer all the way across to Little Haystack, nor could we see any part of Mount Marcy.
Quick summit photos taken, we set out for the return to camp. A ranger had suggested that instead of crossing Haystack, descending its south side and returning along a path said to be quite difficult at the best of times - and likely treacherous with the snow and ice resulting in much challenging post holing - that we could take Shorey's Shortcut for variety. The way we hiked it, this is not a shortcut at all, quite the opposite, but it was different. Indeed, if we thought we struggled uphill through the snowy path, the downhill on Shorey was even more challenging. We applied all our snow travel skills, digging in heel first and post holed frequently as the snow bridges frequently gave way. Due to the trail's steepness with large boulders strewn everywhere, I went in more than hip-deep in a few spots struggling to gain solid ground again. With the rain falling, the snow and run-off beneath, we both got wet through and through. Perhaps needless to say, the descent took as long as the way up. That is one of the things about the High Peak's: you can't assume that down is faster given the technically difficult terrain.
We made it back to camp safely after about 7 hours covering about 8 miles (13 km) and traversing about 2,000 vertical feet. By now we were completely soaked through and knew we'd get cold as soon as we stopped moving. We quickly decided to use the lean to until we would go to sleep in our tent. We boiled up water for tea as we changed into dry, warm clothes. Then we made dinner and tried to find a way to dry out our hiking boots that were wet inside and out. (see solution below)
With the challenges of the day, so rises the elation. Especially, since we were well equipped and had the sole use of the lean-to, we could review with relish the day's adventures and accomplishments.
The next morning, the rain let up. We packed up, wet clothes off the line making for some extra weight, and set off for the return to our car. The hike out felt easy in comparison to hiking Haystack. We enjoyed the effort and felt awesome after our last ford at South Meadows.
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| Jan explores her camera's settings. Result: beautiful! |
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| Lunch near Klondike Lean-to on hike in. |
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| Bushnell Falls and Jan. |
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| First big snow. |
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| Jan navigates the snowy path ably. |
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| Clouds move in fast over Haystack. |
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| Haystack summit, really! Just us and the thick clouds. |
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| A tea light for every boot. This actually worked pretty well to dry them out for a few hours. |
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| Improvised clothes line to store our dry clothes for the night. |
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| Back in the meadow steps from our car. Happy. |
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Bolivia 2013 mountaineering expedition
Vacations approved. Travel plans well underway.
We will be going to Bolivia for 5 weeks this fall! 5 weeks means the odds of achieving our ambitious mountaineering goals are quite good - as long as we both stay healthy. We will have 18 days for the acclimatization process and then 16 days of mountaineering, climbing glaciated mountains over 5,000 m and getting ready for up to 3 mountains over 6,000 m. Yes, that's over 20,000 feet.
That means our acclimatization process starts most likely at about 3,000 m with a series of higher day hikes. This will be followed by moving to La Paz where we will sleep at about 3,700 m and we have access to the Altiplano which sites at 4,000 m and the Cordillera Real with some relatively close to the city objectives over 5,000 m. By the time we get to the mountaineering expedition, we hope to have spent time at least twice over 5,000 m.
We'll spend the first week of the mountaineering part between 4,500 and 5,500 m before attempting two 6,000ers (Chachacomani and Chearoco mountains) in a seldom visited part of the Cordillera Real. If all goes well, we will follow this up with an ascent of the 6,438 m (21,122 feet) high Illimani, one of Bolivia's most iconic mountains standing just south of La Paz and the highest mountain in the Cordillera Real.
In 2010, we traversed a large part of this mountain range which culminated in summitting Huayna Potosi (6,088m). The area we plan to explore this fall is further west in this impressive range.
We'll post training updates, itineraries and of course progress reports as this expedition unfolds.
We will be going to Bolivia for 5 weeks this fall! 5 weeks means the odds of achieving our ambitious mountaineering goals are quite good - as long as we both stay healthy. We will have 18 days for the acclimatization process and then 16 days of mountaineering, climbing glaciated mountains over 5,000 m and getting ready for up to 3 mountains over 6,000 m. Yes, that's over 20,000 feet.
That means our acclimatization process starts most likely at about 3,000 m with a series of higher day hikes. This will be followed by moving to La Paz where we will sleep at about 3,700 m and we have access to the Altiplano which sites at 4,000 m and the Cordillera Real with some relatively close to the city objectives over 5,000 m. By the time we get to the mountaineering expedition, we hope to have spent time at least twice over 5,000 m.
We'll spend the first week of the mountaineering part between 4,500 and 5,500 m before attempting two 6,000ers (Chachacomani and Chearoco mountains) in a seldom visited part of the Cordillera Real. If all goes well, we will follow this up with an ascent of the 6,438 m (21,122 feet) high Illimani, one of Bolivia's most iconic mountains standing just south of La Paz and the highest mountain in the Cordillera Real.
In 2010, we traversed a large part of this mountain range which culminated in summitting Huayna Potosi (6,088m). The area we plan to explore this fall is further west in this impressive range.
We'll post training updates, itineraries and of course progress reports as this expedition unfolds.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
2013 plans
We've been researching options for mountaineering courses and ascents in the Andes. As of a few moments ago,I have two proposals from Eduardo at Bolivian Mountain Guides on my desk. A couple of days ago we received a proposal from Skyline Adventures in Huaraz, Peru. Reading these itineraries, considering the mountaineering skills we will learn / reinforce and anticipating the high altitude experiences the amazing Andes offer makes me want to go there. Now.
No doubt, Jan and I will settle on one or the other option shortly and set up our year accordingly. There will be training treks, gear updates, skill reinforcement opportunities. My Spanish learning will have renewed purpose. Actually I am done with the courses, but language automation and achieving real proficiency require time and effort.
Yeah! To the Andes in 2013.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Published: Alpine Club Gazette
We've resurrected our love of Cochamo in Chile in my article in the Winter 2012 issue ACC magazine with pictures by Jan. I am so wistful reading this again:
Gazette home page: http://www.alpineclubofcanada.ca/gazette/index.html
And here is the text:
Cochamó is how we spell Paradise
We had finally arrived at the beginning.
I remember in my bones what it felt like to hike to, be in and leave Cochamó Valley, a northern Patagonian gem we discovered during semana santa, the holy week between Christmas and New Year’s.
We learned about Cochamó from a guide we met while trekking in Torres del Paine National Park. His words: “If you want something different, go to Cochamó. The trekking there is an experience unlike any other.” We learned that the only way in was a 5-hour hike; we decided to go.
We had been trekking in Peru and Bolivia during October and November and were spending December in Chilean Patagonia to enjoy the southern hemisphere’s endless days of summer. To get to Cochamó we could simply have flown from Punta Arenas to Puerto Montt but instead opted for the slow way: We embarked on the Navimag ferry in Puerto Natales. This 4 nights/ 3 days excursion through Patagonian fjords and open Pacific is used by two kinds of people: backpackers and truckers ferrying livestock and other goods. We spent time resting, admiring glaciers, dolphins and ship wrecks and meeting backpackers undertaking all manner of journeys. It was worth the time.
We arrived in Puerto Montt on Christmas Eve just in time to stock up on food and wine before stores closed for the holiday. We got tickets for the local bus ($4 each) for the two-hour ride to Cochamó. Our bus driver’s and his assistant’s unbridled enthusiasm for our destination startled us. We had intended to find a local ride from the village of Cochamó to the trailhead. Instead our excited bus driver let us off several kilometres past the village at the beginning of the 6 km gravel road leading to the trailhead.
We got off the bus, which left in a plume of dust as it headed down the dirt road. This was it: an unremarkable, empty intersection in Northern Patagonia’s Lake District. We had a snack, drank some water and shouldered our 45-pound backpacks.
There was no traffic. We passed a few farm houses and beekeepers. The last house on the road was said to serve drink, food and have space for camping. We said Hola to the owner. Due to the holiday he was out of supplies but invited us to stay when we would return.
We hiked on. Now the trail began; part of the storied Gaucho Trail connecting Argentina’s Lake District across the Andes with the Pacific Ocean. It had been raining hard, so we encountered copious amounts of mud as we hiked deeper into the valley. The trenches, forged through cattle drives and some as deep as two metres, were filled with puddles of uncertain depth. River crossings featured logs with few man-made supports, if any. We were glad to wear gaiters and waterproof boots despite the summer’s heat.
As we progressed from sea level near the Reloncaví estuary, we hiked through dense native forests, with glimpses of the crystal Cochamó River. Huge bamboo shoots appeared as we proceeded through Patagonian rain forest. Suddenly, the vista opened toward La Junta, our destination, with its pampas grassland surrounded by sharply rising 1,000 m granite domes. We easily found camp with its central cook house, outhouses and an information board nearby. There were a handful of tents and roaming horses. We settled in ($4 pp/d).
Following the path to the rustic cable car crossing − powered by human effort alone, so it’s best to have a friend along especially because the return is slightly uphill − we introduced ourselves at Refugio Cochamó. Later, we met the other campers while preparing dinner. All were here to climb, hike or toboggan the waterfall slides. Without exception, they referred to Cochamó as paradise. Getting here takes effort; an effort worth making.
The next day, we hiked to the base of Trinidad Mountain through thick, steep rainforest. It was immediately clear that the trails had been cut as approach trails to big wall climbs. They are demanding, and at times spectacularly exposed. Fixed ropes are installed where necessary to ensure upward movement, not to provide comfort.
The following day, Arco Iris (1,668 m) was our objective. This trail was cut by machete as Cochamó’s first valley-to-peak trail in 2007. Native forest gives way to massive 3,000-year-old Alerce trees, rain forest and then the first magnificent views across the valley. The most unusual trail feature might well be the fixed rope leading steeply up a granite slab beneath massive tree roots. Or maybe it is the wild granite ridge above tree line. From the snow-capped summit hikers enjoy awesome views over the valley and surrounding mountains, the Reloncaví estuary and distant volcanoes.
The next afternoon we hiked out so we could make our way to the famed coastal city of Valparaíso for New Year’s celebrations. We had planned to camp at the trailhead and then catch the bus at our drop-off the next afternoon. When we arrived two locals told us that the owner had been taken to hospital. Reluctantly, we hiked out to the main dirt road, 6 km, and then started toward the village. A couple of kilometres in, a lovely woman in a pick-up truck offered us a ride. We gladly jumped on the back in our seventh hour of hiking. She didn’t want payment and instead dropped us off at her brother Ruben’s private camp ($5 each).
It had gorgeous views of the glaciated Yate Volcano across the estuary. We had the meadow to ourselves and enjoyed a perfect camp stove dinner while the sun set across the Pacific and dabbed the clouds overhead in shades of red. This would be the last camping meal of our three months South American trek. We left our fuel with Ruben.
Gazette home page: http://www.alpineclubofcanada.ca/gazette/index.html
And here is the text:
Cochamó is how we spell Paradise
By Inga
Petri
We had finally arrived at the beginning.
I remember in my bones what it felt like to hike to, be in and leave Cochamó Valley, a northern Patagonian gem we discovered during semana santa, the holy week between Christmas and New Year’s.
We learned about Cochamó from a guide we met while trekking in Torres del Paine National Park. His words: “If you want something different, go to Cochamó. The trekking there is an experience unlike any other.” We learned that the only way in was a 5-hour hike; we decided to go.
We had been trekking in Peru and Bolivia during October and November and were spending December in Chilean Patagonia to enjoy the southern hemisphere’s endless days of summer. To get to Cochamó we could simply have flown from Punta Arenas to Puerto Montt but instead opted for the slow way: We embarked on the Navimag ferry in Puerto Natales. This 4 nights/ 3 days excursion through Patagonian fjords and open Pacific is used by two kinds of people: backpackers and truckers ferrying livestock and other goods. We spent time resting, admiring glaciers, dolphins and ship wrecks and meeting backpackers undertaking all manner of journeys. It was worth the time.
We arrived in Puerto Montt on Christmas Eve just in time to stock up on food and wine before stores closed for the holiday. We got tickets for the local bus ($4 each) for the two-hour ride to Cochamó. Our bus driver’s and his assistant’s unbridled enthusiasm for our destination startled us. We had intended to find a local ride from the village of Cochamó to the trailhead. Instead our excited bus driver let us off several kilometres past the village at the beginning of the 6 km gravel road leading to the trailhead.
We got off the bus, which left in a plume of dust as it headed down the dirt road. This was it: an unremarkable, empty intersection in Northern Patagonia’s Lake District. We had a snack, drank some water and shouldered our 45-pound backpacks.
There was no traffic. We passed a few farm houses and beekeepers. The last house on the road was said to serve drink, food and have space for camping. We said Hola to the owner. Due to the holiday he was out of supplies but invited us to stay when we would return.
We hiked on. Now the trail began; part of the storied Gaucho Trail connecting Argentina’s Lake District across the Andes with the Pacific Ocean. It had been raining hard, so we encountered copious amounts of mud as we hiked deeper into the valley. The trenches, forged through cattle drives and some as deep as two metres, were filled with puddles of uncertain depth. River crossings featured logs with few man-made supports, if any. We were glad to wear gaiters and waterproof boots despite the summer’s heat.
As we progressed from sea level near the Reloncaví estuary, we hiked through dense native forests, with glimpses of the crystal Cochamó River. Huge bamboo shoots appeared as we proceeded through Patagonian rain forest. Suddenly, the vista opened toward La Junta, our destination, with its pampas grassland surrounded by sharply rising 1,000 m granite domes. We easily found camp with its central cook house, outhouses and an information board nearby. There were a handful of tents and roaming horses. We settled in ($4 pp/d).
Following the path to the rustic cable car crossing − powered by human effort alone, so it’s best to have a friend along especially because the return is slightly uphill − we introduced ourselves at Refugio Cochamó. Later, we met the other campers while preparing dinner. All were here to climb, hike or toboggan the waterfall slides. Without exception, they referred to Cochamó as paradise. Getting here takes effort; an effort worth making.
The next day, we hiked to the base of Trinidad Mountain through thick, steep rainforest. It was immediately clear that the trails had been cut as approach trails to big wall climbs. They are demanding, and at times spectacularly exposed. Fixed ropes are installed where necessary to ensure upward movement, not to provide comfort.
The following day, Arco Iris (1,668 m) was our objective. This trail was cut by machete as Cochamó’s first valley-to-peak trail in 2007. Native forest gives way to massive 3,000-year-old Alerce trees, rain forest and then the first magnificent views across the valley. The most unusual trail feature might well be the fixed rope leading steeply up a granite slab beneath massive tree roots. Or maybe it is the wild granite ridge above tree line. From the snow-capped summit hikers enjoy awesome views over the valley and surrounding mountains, the Reloncaví estuary and distant volcanoes.
The next afternoon we hiked out so we could make our way to the famed coastal city of Valparaíso for New Year’s celebrations. We had planned to camp at the trailhead and then catch the bus at our drop-off the next afternoon. When we arrived two locals told us that the owner had been taken to hospital. Reluctantly, we hiked out to the main dirt road, 6 km, and then started toward the village. A couple of kilometres in, a lovely woman in a pick-up truck offered us a ride. We gladly jumped on the back in our seventh hour of hiking. She didn’t want payment and instead dropped us off at her brother Ruben’s private camp ($5 each).
It had gorgeous views of the glaciated Yate Volcano across the estuary. We had the meadow to ourselves and enjoyed a perfect camp stove dinner while the sun set across the Pacific and dabbed the clouds overhead in shades of red. This would be the last camping meal of our three months South American trek. We left our fuel with Ruben.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Desert riches
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| Native Americans adapted well to desert life. |
Desert Botanical Gardens, Phoenix
It's a day off and looking at the local flora and fauna is just the thing.
Hope you enjoy these few impressions.
Sent wirelessly from my BlackBerry.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
The Prairies are flat
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| Highway 1 |
Wonder what hiking would feel like in such a flat place.
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| Highway 1 from Winnipeg to Virden |
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