Volcanoes, Mountains, and Glaciers

11/26/11 (Quite behind here!)

Volcanoes, Mountains, and Glaciers

As mentioned in the last post, I’m finding it’s a lot more difficult to update a blog when traveling by Gus than it is when staying in conventional hotels or hostels. It’s not that we’re camping every night, because we are spending some time in hostels. But we are spending a lot of time on the road (Patagonia is a pretty big place to cover!), and when we’re stopped, we’re climbing a mountain or visiting a glacier or gazing at a waterfall. So, instead of trying to explain everything that’s happened in the last little while, this entry is going to share the highlights, a lot of it through pictures. (My original plan was to include Pucón in this two-week highlight entry.  The problem is, once I start reflecting on a place, there’s so much I want to remember I just keep writing.)

The landscape in Patagonia is breathtakingly beautiful. Really, we’re driving along and could stop every three minutes to take a new picture of a striking site. Fortunately we don’t, as the days have been long enough with the lunch, toilet, and the occasional can’t-miss-this-photo-opportunity stops we’re already making.

Sites along the drive: (I don't know where all of them were--need to be better about staying current with this blog!)

We left Pucón under cloud covered skies and went to Puerto Montt where we were to take an overnight ferry to Chaiten. I’ll admit there wasn’t much going for Puerto Montt, especially as most places were closed because it was Sunday. As we weren’t sure what food shopping opportunities were ahead, the group had to make a big shopping run.

Can you tell where I forgot to reapply on the volcano? 

Shopping like this is an interesting exercise in group dynamics. Our trip leader Clare has divided the 21 of us into cooking groups (ours has five people, most have four—don’t know how she knew about my lack of skills in the kitchen) and made each group responsible for various meals. When a group’s meal time approaches, the group is responsible for shopping and preparing the food. Dinner is the most involved meal as it requires cooking. Somehow, though, my group was scheduled only for breakfasts and lunches (again, good premonition by Clare?). These typically entail cereal and sandwich makings, but even still, it’s hard shopping for 23 with four other people on a tight budget: some in the group think cheese for sandwiches is more important than meat, some want chips while others want eggs, some think we’ll have too much food while others think we’ll have too little. Some get overwhelmed by the process and just shut down while others become too bossy. And today, all the groups were shopping for one or two meals.

After a very long hour or so, our group managed to buy our supplies (and were slightly under budget!) and headed to the truck to load the goods. Getting everything into Gus and ready for the ferry was another process, but fortunately, this was a little easier to accomplish. The rest of the day was spent at a restaurant waiting for 10:00 to come so we could board the ferry.

The ferry crossing was pretty uneventful, though our friend Erin earned the nickname Judas when she decided to fill the fourth spot in a room of boys instead of rooming with Helen, Jane, and me. (This meant that our fourth spot was filled by Heiko, a nice, fizzy drink-loving, photo-taking German man. While it wasn’t a big deal to share with him, it did mean we all had to be a little more discreet with changing and sleep attire, and we now had a noisy sleeper in the room.) It was also amusing to watch the semis, diggers, JCBs, and other heavy industrial machinery exit the belly of the ferry while we waited for Gus to be released and to disembark ourselves.

It's amazing what they fit into the ferry!

Helen, Heiko, me, Jane

Gus being released from the ferry's belly

Chaiten was just a stop on our way south. A nearby volcano erupted several years ago, and the ash from it basically dammed up the river and caused major flooding which destroyed much of the town. There are remnants of houses strewn along the beach that look like they came from Dorothy’s Kansas.

That night we camped in a beautiful spot below the Colgante Glacier. While we were at a campsite that should have had facilities, there weren’t any. After searching in vain for the bathroom, Helen and I realized that the building we were looking for was in fact the charred structure we had passed a couple hundred yards from our campsite. How a bathroom catches on fire, I’m not sure. There was a shelter at the site, and Heiko (fizzy-pop drinker) had had the foresight to purchase marshmallows at our grocery store extravaganza. We roasted them on forks before heading to bed.

The next morning consisted of a short hike to the glacier viewing point before another long day of driving.

It turns out that our big shop for five days in Puerto Montt was a bit premature as there was in fact a very large grocery store where we stopped for the night. So large that I got carried away looking at groceries and was almost left there. (Okay, the group probably wouldn’t have left me, but they did send in a search party. Oops.) There seems to be a mentality on the truck that when there is a chance to buy food, we should embrace it, and there is definitely a lot of eating going on most all the time. We were scheduled to camp again this night, but the camping spot was quite small and in the middle of town, so we decided to stay in a quaint hostel a little out of town instead.

Showers are always a big unknown while traveling. You’ll get cold showers, scalding hot showers, drizzles, deluges, water that stops once you’ve lathered the shampoo in your hair. Normally I’m just happy when there is a shower, but at times, I end up disappointed as a shower will tease you by pretending like it’s going to be a good one (hot with decent water pressure) only to leave you go out on you when you want it most. The shower at this hostel was this type. Having an instant water heating system seemed like a shoo-in for great shower (no need to race for the hot water!), but for whatever reason, the pilot light for the women’s heater wouldn’t stay lit. We ended up needing to have someone stand watch in the hall while we showered. Every couple minutes, “Please check the pilot light!” could be heard following a loud gasp from the shower. But we did get clean. 

The next day was another early start to a long drive ending at a campsite at Puerto Guadal.  The site couldn’t have been in a more idyllic spot—a clear lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Though it was close to 8:00 by the time we arrived and got our tents pitched, the sun was still up and several of us braved the icy lake water and had a refreshing swim before sunset. The southern sky was brilliant that night and I saw several shooting stars before finally going to sleep.

Sophie, Erin, Damian, me, Paul/Johnny, Heiko enjoying(?) a swim at dusk.

Can't complain about waking up early when getting up to this!

We had another 7:00 breakfast and were packed and on the road by 8:00. It was going to be a long day including crossing into Chile Chico, Argentina. Border-crossing, it turns out, is quite a nerve-wracking process for our guides. Fortunately, ours was without incident and we were back on the road within an hour and a half. 

Although we didn’t make our planned 5:00 arrival to the Cueva de Manos (Cave of Hands), a UNESCO World Heritage Site in Rio Pinturas, we did manage to make it there in time for the final tour of the day at 7:00. The site has stenciled paintings of hands as old as 9,000 years old. The native people made the paintings by blowing paint with their mouth over their hands. (It’s like well-preserved very large kindergarten Mother’s Day project.) As it’s a UNESCO world heritage site, I believe the history behind it, but there were definitely some in the group who were skeptical of the authenticity of the whole place. I’ll admit it’s a little strange that these paintings have been so well preserved for thousands of years, but in the past 30 since their discovery they’ve noticeably faded. At any rate, the visit broke up the drive.

Preparing for the cave. Not sure of the need for the hardhats...
but they look good. 

9,000 years old? Or maybe just 1000. Still, they're pretty old.

Our bush camp that night really was in the middle of nowhere.  By the time we found a reasonably flat place to stay, we had little time to set up camp before dark. Helen and I quickly pitched our tent. It was a cold night and the sky was threatening rain. (You need to be more careful about using your flysheet when it’s raining, and evidently, Helen and I had much to learn about this. Fortunately, Clare came around and made sure our stakes were driven in tight enough to keep us dry in case of a deluge.)

Real bush camping

Good Old Gus

From there, we drove 580 kilometers to Glaciers National Park in El Chalten. There we had two days of hiking among beautiful landscapes, though the hail and snow would not have been my first choice of weather in which to experience them. It cleared up as we were leaving, however, and we had some fantastic views of Fitz Roy as we were leaving the third morning.(Even though it might look by my clothes that all the hiking was on the same day, it really was over two--you just get careful about using up clean clothes when traveling with two pairs of pants. :))

There's almost a view.

It's a little cold up here.

It's a little windy!

Made it to the top!

I'm sure I would have loved the view could I see anything.
Yes, it's snowing.

Some point along the hike.

Eating a burger the size of my head to recover.
(For the record, I actually shared it.)

Bathroom sign at the restaurant.

Views of Fitz Roy as we were leaving

Finally, when traveling like this, you get pretty comfortable with people and the bus and seem some interesting things.

Drying laundry. (Amazement at the cup size by a fellow passenger.
Clearly not mine.)

Paul/Johnny with his Macgyvered flipflops.

Damien and his "drool catcher"
--maybe I should get me one of those.

Helen trying to get a splinter out of her two.
I offered her my tweezers.

A Lady Hikes Volcán Villarrica

November 12, 2011

(So, I'm a little behind with this--it's a little more difficult to keep things updated while traveling via Gus.)

Pucón is a small town in Chile perfect for outdoor enthusiasts. After a long morning drive and lunch at the waters edge under and overcast sky, we arrived at the hostel in early afternoon. Helen, Darren, and I had a quick check in and then rented the bikes we spotted in the back of the hostel to check out some nearby waterfalls, Ojos del Caburgua. It turns out while the bikes had brakes that seemed to work when pressing them from a stopped position, they were much less effective at actually stopping a moving bike. The ride to the falls felt a little bit longer than the 17 kilometers we were told it would be, possibly due to the brake situation and the propensity of Helen’s bike chain to fall off while she was pedaling uphill. 

On our way to the falls, we stopped to drop off our laundry...
Inside a laundry/jam/tire store.

Looking great in our helmets!

We finally reached the falls and after enjoying the view for a few minutes, Helen talked me into going for a little swim in the lake. (Helen loves the water as much as I do.  She is also former water polo player( and synchronized swimmer for England!?!).) Our “swim” would probably be better classified as a “dip” as neither of us lasted very long in the water (It reminded me a bit of being in a frozen lake in Finland, only here there were no saunas to heat us up before or afterwards.), but it was refreshing.

The water is a little cold. Didn't make it in
much longer than to snap this photo.

About to fall off the falls!

They look bigger in real life. 

Climbing Volcán Villarrica, an active volcano that rises 2840 meters above sea level, is the draw for most tourists visiting Pucón. One of the five most active volcanoes in Chile, on a clear day you can see a faint glow coming off it at night and plumes of steam during the day. The climb over steep, snow-covered terrain is fairly difficult and requires hiring a guide for the day. Our group secured a tour for everyone while we were out, and we received some gear in questionable state (missing zippers, unglued shoe soles, torn pants) on our return to the hostel.

About to start climbing

Heading out!

The next morning we set off early with our tour guides to face the volcano. The first 1800 meters of the climb are the steepest and most people choose to cover them by chairlift. I had no intention of electing this option though, as it seemed to me if I was going to climb the mountain, I should climb the mountain. However, when we reached the lift, our tour operator strongly recommended that we all ride up so we would have enough energy to summit. (“It would be a shame to climb all that way only to fall short 300 meters before the top” like members of his last group who insisted on walking the first section evidently had.) There was some chaos while the half of the group that had planned up to that point to hike up discussed what to do with this recommendation, and slowly members of the walking group joined the riders. I was still on the fence about it—I really wanted to walk the whole thing and thought that after the hiking I’d been doing at altitude in Peru and Bolivia and then generally having a decent fitness level, I should be okay to walk it. But it got to the point where the guides were telling me I really should take the lift and that I was the only person left in our group hiking and we should all hike together, so I gave in and bought a chairlift ticket. I was about to queue for the ride up when I saw that two guys from my group preparing to walk. To the frustration of my guide (“You need to make up your mind!”), I asked if it was possible to get a refund (It was, though he made me go talk to the chairlift operator myself.), but in the end I joined the walkers. After a brief talk from the guide who would accompany us (“Don’t walk too fast because you want to save your energy and you have a lady going with you.”), we started up the hill.

The four of us steadily climbed, zigzagging across the hill, using our icepicks as walking sticks to steady ourselves in the snow. After an hour and a quarter, we reached the chairlift exit and rested for a moment. While I was grateful for the stop, I was surprised about all the fuss that was made over this section. It was steep, but if that was the hardest part of the hike, I was going to be fine. Toward the end of this first part, our guide lost his balance, his foot went deeper through the snow than he was anticipating, and he ended up pulling a muscle in his leg. He didn’t say anything to us at the time, but once we reached the first stop he had us continue on ahead of him and radioed for another guide to meet us. Of course, he couldn’t let us leave without reminding us to not go too fast—it was a long climb, and there was a lady with us. (For the record, I was the only lady, and I was not slowing anyone down.)

Despite being "una mujer", I made it easily to the top of the lift.
Only 1100 meters of climbing to go.

The walker group

Luckily for us, it was a beautiful day. We continued up the hill and eventually were met by another guide. About an hour and a half from the top, we passed one of the couples from our group who were taking the trek slower than the rest. Forty-five minutes later we reached the rest of our group and climbed the final half hour to the top with them. Despite being a lady, I had made it to the top! (As a side note, the main guide was actually quite impressed by this female feat and paid me extra attention for the rest of the tour. Really. I was “the strongest girl on the mountain” that day. Hmmm.)

The view from the top was incredible. Not only were we on top of a volcano, we had views of other volcanoes to either side. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. This was particularly lucky as we only had one day in Pucón and both the days preceding and following our hike were all overcast. (My last tour group arrived there earlier and said they couldn’t even climb the volcano because of the weather.)

On top of one volcano with a view of the next.

There was actually a drop off behind me.
The guy I asked to take the picture missed the point I guess.

Don't step back!

Smells like sulfur

I made it!

After adding many layers (It’s cold on top!), having a snack, and taking photos, we headed down the mountain—on sleds! I have to admit I was a little nervous about this, particularly after getting extra safety gear and being shown how to use—and not use—our icepicks as brakes. But after the first hill, it was all fun.  We did have a couple people lose their icepicks on the tracks, a potential danger for the subsequent sledders, but we managed to collect the dropped picks before anything bad happened.

Heading down is the fun part!

Good thing we were wearing diapers

The day ended with a trip to some not-so-nearby hot springs. What a life I’m leading! 

Post climb hot springs