After completing the circuit of Nacional Parque Torres del Paine MoWenck have spent the last four weeks traveling-crossing frontiers, exploring nacional parques, hiking, camping, and even whitewater rafting-in South America´s vast Patagonian region. No other part of South America-not even Amazonia-excites the imagination of travelers quite like Patagonia. The first European´s to explore the region reported encounters with a giant "so tall that the tallest among us reached only his waist," or so recorded Magellan´s chronicler Antonio Pigafetta. The term Patagonia itself is sometimes believed to derive from the Tehueleces´s (the natives) supposedly oversized feet. It seems more likely however that the term came from the Spanish romance Primaleon, in which there is a charactor-a giant-named Patagon. Later more scientific expeditions-most noteably that of Charles Darwin on the Beagle-credibly debunked the legend of "Patagonian giants" but still the unknown of the southern latitutdes have continued to project a mystique that has been a mixture of anticipation and apprhension.* In anycase, I can report, the proud few Tehuelches I have encountered in Patagonia are, on average, no taller than myself.
What else can I be? All apologies. I thought I would start this pseudo-blog off with a lesson, so that all you all can feel at least a bit more edjumacated-you know, less igmorant. I hoped that maybe this little lesson would help you to justify continued reading of my drivel, on the clock at work. So, without further delay...
After spending a cold windy morning trying to hitch hike out of the not so pleasant Chile Chico I came to realize 2 things: the high season for hitch hiking the Carterra Austral in Chile was long past and we would therefore be dependant on the ever decreasing regularity of public transport. Ugh. The next morning we saddled up early and made for the port at Chile Chico to catch the ferry across Lago General something or another-a shortcut to the North and a place called Coyhaique. We had decided to cut out a visit to the enticingly named Puerto Rio Tranquillo and what is often described as the most beautiful section of the Carterra Austral. Pitty that, have to do it next time I suppose.^ Once across the lake, a 3 hour wind blown trip, we had no difficulties arranging a bus to Coyhaique.
We made it to the sprawling little town nestled in a pleasant valley of the Andes and had only mild problems finding a comfortable and cheap room to hole up in for a day or two. We paid an obligatory visit to the surprisingly helpful Informacion de Turismo where we learned what Coyhaique had to offer. The fly fishing tours looked amazing but also appeared to be a bit out of our budget. Access by public transport to most of the outstanding local trekking was almost non-exhistent. Not good news for Coyhaique. After the Informacion de Tourismo we sought out our forward transport options. Again, very limited: We could leave the next day for Chaiten over 400 K away and at the northern end of the Carterra Austral**. Of course we could jump off anywhere along the route to explore the amazing nacional parques but in order to actually "explore" the parques we would need a car or a bike. The next bus after that would be on Friday, 3 long days away; this bus though, would alow us to connect with another bus headed to Futuleufu on the boarder with Argentina and this was something we were very keen to do. A plan began to formulate in my head but first we needed to check on rental cars.
I did not figure we would have much luck finding a rental car. Oh sure there are plenty of rentals to be had on the Carterra Austral-even in places like Chile Chico-but they are not exactly economical for the budget conscientous traveler (which I still consider us to be). The cheapest we could find in Chile Chico had been at $90 US/day without petrol, insurance, or the fee charged to return the car to the city where it was rented. Yikes! There was a glimmer of hope for Coyhaique, a mega metropolis compared to Chile Chico but alas the prices were the same or higher. Therefore we would have to miss Parque Nacional Lago Los Torres, Parque Nacional Queulot, Puyuguapi, Laguna San Rafael and glacier, and La Junta.*^ At this point we decided to put my plan into action. The first step was to make a tentative itinerary that would get us to San Carlos de Bariloche (Argentina) and allow us to see the few things along the way that would be manageable outside "the high season"-we were now officially in the "shoulder season". Having done this we next bought a flight from Bariloche to Buenos Aires for 10Apr06, just in time to meet up with our friends Colin and Selene. We bought the bus tickets for Friday to get us to Futuleufu and then did our best to enjoy Coyhaique and its surrounds. We managed to do a pleasant hike just outside of Coyhaique the next day. The day after we ventured out through Regional Parque Rio Simpson to Puerto Aisen where we wondered about for the day. Finally Friday came and we jumped on the early morning bus to Santa Lucia where we would transfer to the Futuleufu bus. With any luck we would be in the alpine village on the boarder that night.
The ride up the Carterra Austral was amazing. The Carterra Austral is essentially a dusty one lane "rippio" (dirt) road that stretches for 1000 KM through Chiles remote Patagonian region. The road passes through the sometimes volcanic but always towering Andes Mountains, over crystal clear fly fishing streams, past pristine lakes and bosques (or woods), and through several nacional parques. Despite the fact that the bus was a rickety, really nothing more than a cramped glorified van, this was one of my favorite rides in all of our travels-that is how amazing the scenery is-unfortunately, we were on a schedule and could not stop to take pictures and enjoy the astounding beauty (next time = $1). We made it to Santa Lucia where we hopped on another, even more dilapidated bus, headed to the boarder and Futuleufu. We made it to the village around 8pm and quickly found lodging and dinner. Whew.
Futuleufu is an ideal little pueblo on the Chilean frontier with Argentina. The village is nestled in a typical Andean valley at the confluence of several rivers-most noteably the city´s namesake river-and is surrounded by excellent farmland. Indeed most of the year Futuleufu is a remote rural Chilean outpost-the road from Santa Lucia was only completed in 1988, prior to that access to the village by road was only via Argentina. However, with ready access to several whitewater rivers and its picturesque location, every summer Futuleufu becomes a part of Chile´s "Gringo Trail" with tourists pouring into the village to take advantage of the whitewater. The fly fishing is supposed to be top notch. The Rio Futuleufu is considered by many to be one of the premier whitewater rivers in the world (also see the Colorado and the Zambeezi). There are also opportunities to stay and work on local farms and there are many hiking, mountain biking and horseback trails in the vicinity. Essentially the village offers something for everybody-during the high season. We arrived in the shoulder season and we were quickly reminded of how quickly things can change.
The morning of our first day was dedicated to collecting information about forward travel and perhaps rafting on the Rio Futuleufu. Our first stop was at the Informacion de Tourismo which was closed, not just for the weekend but for the rest of the year. We started to ask locals on the street for information about a bus to the boarder. As with any small town the people were friendly to talk with and they provided conflicting information. It seemed likely that the bus to the boarder only ran on Mondays and Fridays. Everyone did point us in the same direction-towards a rickety old shack of a home where there was apparently a guy who provided transport to the boarder in his van. We tentatively rang the doorbell of the house, not tentatively because we were nervous about asking a complete stranger for a ride (we have hitch hiked across New Zealand) but tentative because of the mangy little mut that guarded the door. There was no answer and we decided we would call again later.
I noticed 2 things wondering about the village asking for information: most of the shops, restaurants, hostels and tour companies were closed. End of the season. Second, sadly they were paving every street in the village (more on that later). Before we rang the bell on the shack we did find a tour company that was open, Expeditions Chile. The gringo owner, who happens to be the former American kayaking olympiad Chris Speilios, tried to sell us on a rafting trip that was leaving in 10 minutes. Chris was super agro saying things like "YOUGOTTACOMEONTHISRIVER" and "ITWOULBBEACRIMENOTTODOTHISRIVER" and it struck me that this Frankenstein look alike might well be hopped up on gooballs. One of the guides walked over and informed Mr. Speilios that there was only one seat available in the boat and he quickly left us alone. Chris´s wife, a lady from Santiago, happened to be very friendly and helpful. She explained to us where the transportation shack was and also provided us with hiking information for the day. She did not know if and when there would be another whitewater rafting trip but that we should try back later that evening, she would have more information then. Swell.
So we spent the afternoon hiking out to a mirador with views of 3 lakes. It was a clear sunny day and the hike was enjoyable. We were joined on the hike by a little sausage dog who walked (more like ran) the entire 15K with us. When we got back to town the transport guy was at his shack and confirmed that his next boarder run was scheduled for Monday. We bought two seats. Next we sought out a place to go on line, no easy task. All the while our friend the sausage dog was cruising around the village with us. When we went in a store he waited patiently outside. When we finally found internet access the dog curled up at my feet underneath the computer. It was at the internet shop that we learned the dogs name was Chocolate. Everyone in the village seemed to know Chocolate and they were not surprised that he had latched on to us. All the hiking and research was making me hungry and so we went to the only restaurant in town for some empanadas and a beer. There we met another gringo couple who were dealing with attachment issues of their own: a little village girl-name of Costanza-had latched on to them for the day. You have got to love Futuleufu, dogs and children adopt you. Anyway, we talked with the other gringos who were both keen to go rafting on the mighty Futuleufu river. This was good news because the tour company would be more likely able to get a boat for 4 people rather than try to accomodate 2.
The 4 of us walked back over to ExChile where we encountered perhaps the most socially awkward person on earth. Expediciones chile claims "first we want you to know that anything is possible and our attentive staff will bend over backwards to make your dreams come true." they followed up that bold statement with lots of other statements like "no, sorry not possible" and "we can´t do that." After an hour or so talking with Chris S., his wife, and the socially awkward Ryan, we were no closer to a rafting trip. All the guides were unavailable for the next day-they did mention a slight possibility for a trip in the afternoon but they would not know until 2pm-and the next trip was not scheduled until Tuesday. It was looking more and more like "a crime" that MoWenck would not be rafting the Rio Futuleufu-next time for a dollar. We started the day in search of information we finished the day knowing that our only transport option would not be available until Monday and that there was not much chance of getting on the river in a raft.
The next day we found our gringo friends (Sabra & Eli from Davis, CA) and wondered back over to ExChile-as I have said, not many places were open in town. The story there had changed yet again and there was a slight possibility of a Monday trip but we would have to come back later to find out. They pointed us in the direction of a family that offered horseback riding treks and so we sauntered off in that direction. The 4 of us arranged a 3 hour guided ride for that afternoon at 2pm. The ride turned out to be quite pleasant with our guide Jill from Minnesota. She took us out to a bridge over the Rio Futuleufu and then down to one of the biggest river eddys I have ever seen. The horses were really calm and well broken and I even enjoyed a couple of cantors (I still hate to trot). It was a good trip and it was only about $12 per person. Sweet as. Back at ExChile that afternoon we were able to arrange a rafting trip for Monday: the "bridge to bridge" run. Amy and I were very excited. After two days of fantastic and unseasonablywarm weather reality hit Futuleufu and Monday dawned with thick fog. The fog burned off to show dark and heavy high clouds as we met up with our guide Scott from Ontario, Canada. We made it to our put in spot on the river and had lunch before Scott went over safety on the boat. We put in the river and the 8 of us, 7 tourists and the guide, practiced all our rowing moves we would need for the river. Note: there were two safety crafts making the trip down the river with us, a catamoran and a kayak and both guides were actually Chilean! As we started down the river the rain started to fall setting an erie scene. The river cuts through some beautiful countryside with granite rock mountains and lush green forests. The Futuleufu is a powerfull river and lives up to the billing (in my humble opinion). Everything was going swimmingly and the next thing I knew I was swimming too. It happened on a true class V rapid known as Mundaka. We were trying to power through a huge wave but did not have the steam to bust through instead we shouldered up top. That is when I flew across the boat and knocked Mo into the river. I was still on the boat-we had lost 3 at this point-just about to try and highside it when we took our second hit ejecting Eli and myself. We got tossed into the "nuclear fission hole" (no shite, that is what they call it, it certainly was not fuzzy bunnys) and after spending a few seconds under water in what seemed like a washing machine I popped up and swam for the safety boat. The guide, Sabra (like a cat), and another guy stayed in the boat, everyone else swam to safety. It was quite exhilerating. We made the rest of the river wihout incident and we all had a really good time.
The tour got us back to Futuleufu in time to catch our ride to the boarder where we said our final goodbyes to Chile (for this trip). There was another bus from the boarder that took us into a city called Esquel where we spent the next 3 days exploring the countryside. Esquel is located near the Argentinian version of Nacional Parque Los Aleceres but as it was the end of the season access was severely restricted and our transport and hiking options were limited. We still managed to make it out to the parque for one wet windy day and had a rather pleasant hike out to some waterfalls. Unfortunately for us we did get to go to the part of the parque where the Aleceres trees are found. The Aleceres tree is the second oldest tree in the world (some reaching an age of over 4000 years)-I figure it is all right that I did not get to see this tree (next time) since in California we have access to the world´s oldest and tallest trees.
After Esquel we paid a visit to the hippie enclave of El Bolson, he Berkeley of Argentina. El Bolson is a really nice little community in the Rio Azul valley. In the surrounding countryside they grow hops and so it is also Argentinas top microbrewery center. El Bolson offers really good hiking opportunities but most people come to sample the Artesian Feria or street fair held every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. We arrived on a Thursday and after finding a nice place to stay we headed off to the fair. It is a typical artesian street fair with all kinds of crafts being hawked. There is good food and beer available. The smell of puchuli and cannibis wafts through the air. We sat in the middle of the fair and consumed lots of beer talking with other gringos. It was nice. We spent a few days enjoying El Bolson and it surrounds before we made for San Carlos de Bariloche where we only had 2 days before we flew to Buenos Aires to meet up with our friends.
What can I say about Bariloche? Well, we did not really have a lot of time to experience everything we would have liked (next time) but we were not sure what to expect. People rave about Bariloche and how beautiful it is and I have to say they are right. The city itself has been tastefully maintained with excellent architecture etc. and the surrounding country is compareable to that of the Lakes District on the Chilean side, in short: bonita. Our only concern heading in to Bariloche was that it would be an over-commercialized hell hole of a city like Queenstown in New Zealand. As it turns out it was completely the opposite and I found myself wishing I had a week or two to burn in Bariloche. That was not the case and so we made the best of the time we had. We made it out to eat at the world famous Albierto´s where I had one of the legendary Argentinian steaks: the bife de lomo. It was tastey and phat but not as large as I was expecting. We managed a very pleasant circuit of hiking and buses to the North of the city. we generally had a good time and we were both sad to leave so soon. But we had friends to meet in Buenos Aires and so on Monday 10Apr06 we flew out of Bariloche on our way to the capital city. That is where I will leave you all hanging; tune in next time to find out if MoWenck was able to meet up with their friends. Will Tyler dance the tango? Will Amy be able to wait to eat dinner until 11pm? All that and much more awaits you back here at Mowenck.com.
NOTES:
* Moon Handbooks Argentina; Wayne Bernhardson; Avalon Travel Publishing Inc.; Emeryville, CA; 2004; pages 372-377
^If I had a dollar for every time I have said or thought "next time" on this long strange trip I would have the money to travel indefinitely. I could see and do everything until I no longer was earning dollars for thinking "next time". Wow! That is a pleasant thought.
** Technically, the northern end of the Carterra Austral is all the way back in Puerto Montt but in order to cover the final 242 KM from Chaiten to Puerto Montt you have to complete several ferry crossings. The ferries do not operate outside of the high season.
*^$1 for each "next time".