Another day, another walk. The rarity of this possibility within the confines of the usually completely topsy-turvy weather of alpine Patagonia, now for well over one week, is not lost on us. Our motto is to take advantage of every moment of good weather, because the horror stories we hear from the hosts at our B&B keep us on that path. The spell of superb weather that has been in the area of late is completely abnormal, as is the relatively quiet wind, and the often elevated temperatures—which are an average of 15-20 degrees Celsius—(about 58-70 degrees Fahrenheit). We have to slather on sunscreen and zinc-oxide block for noses, ears and the like. On a typical day the wind and relentless sun and glare sear the skin —like in most alpine areas, although not as severely as in high altitude spots.
I digress. To reach this walk we had our first experience taking the “bus” up the only road (dirt) in the valley. These are all private enterprises, and tend to be a tad pricey, but ultimately, we didn’t want to have to walk the 20 km to get to the head of the trail! The valley was gorgeous, but more entertaining were the various passengers on board—well, at least to us. We’ve been slightly fixated on how singularly unfriendly, or let’s say standoffish many of the travellers we've encountered are. Normally one expects that in these small hotel/hostel/B&B places, there is an upbeat exchange of information, accounts of where to eat, walk, drink, and so forth, but there has been an absolute dearth of this. Beyond this, we’ve been struck by the fact that even in these tiny places many tourists staying in the same place don’t appear to have the civility to greet others –for instance, at breakfast. So we’d been noticing that with the exception of the guy sitting behind us—my guess, a youngish American with excellent French and a French girlfriend—most people continued in this vein. He(Mr. behind us) loudly and purposefully greeted everyone as they were picked up and found their seats. Most passengers stared ahead blithely ignoring all attempts at basic manners, and sat in stony silence. The driver kept things alive with some upbeat music, and there were occasional informational/tour comments piped into the mini-bus. Two Catalan girls were sitting in the front seats, made up as if ready for a serious night out, and wearing their sexy “sports” clothes. We picked up another woman whom they had met on the bus up to Chalten from Calafate, and this last one was in a serious hurry as she only had the day and intended to get in TWO hikes. Guess she hadn’t checked the length/distance of each, and was miffed when we attempted to help her out, by explaining the virtual impossibility of such an endeavor. At one point, there was a photo stop—since it was an exceptionally clear day. Comments steered clear of the incredible beauty, and focused on the need to get to the trailhead NOW! As people clambered back on the bus after the 5 minute photo interlude, one of the ubiquitous monster flies that is the bane of every trekker’s existence here boarded with us. One of the Catalan girls immediately said to the driver that a “wasp” was on board and he needed to get rid of it, which caused instantaneous and rollicking laughter from a handful of us. Anyone who has spent ANY time on the trails here has developed some stamina for dealing with these annoying pests for hours on end. The driver was very laid back, simply answering that it wasn’t a wasp. The girl came back with, “But does it bite?” He confirmed that it might, but that usually they were so stupid one could simply flick them away. She seemed doubtful. He then rolled down the front window, at which the huge fly simply flew out. None of us had ever seen such a miraculous deliverance from the pests! About an hour of such merriment entertained us until we were dropped off at the side of a raging river, the Rio Electrico, at which point we began our walk. Pickup would be in the same spot sometime between 4:45 and 5:30. “No se preocupe, les viene buscar mi companero.” Don’t worry, my colleague will be here to pick you up, encouraged the driver. With that, a cloud of dust enveloped us, as he drove off and we headed down to the bank of a small rivulet to begin the walk. (Ok, I digressed some more....)
The trail initially crosses various stray bits of side rivers, the path itself very sandy and heavy walking. A short while later it winds into a forest and is often close to the tremendously powerful and fast flowing, rapids-filled Rio Electrico.
A short 2 hours later we arrived at the campground Piedra del Fraile, which means Friar’s Stone. Friar Agostini originally built a hut which served as a base for his exploration of the area at this spot. The stone is a large rocky hilltop, and from the top one can see the Marconi Glacier down the valley. On the right the river thunders by, while on the left is a steep mountainside that leads to the Cuadrado Pass(1830 m.), one of the steepest walks in the area.
As always, the flies were our constant companions, so when we arrived at the campground we asked the caretaker if we could sit inside the hut to have our lunch if we had something to drink there. Not a problem, at all. We subsequently discovered why! A soft drink ended up costing an exhorbitant US$8 EACH. We got the whole dramatic play by play of why it is so expensive, private land, owner putting pressure on the camp management to make more money, the horrendous multi-hour trip to bring in supplies on an all-terrain vehicle. Blah blah blah. Anyway, decided, ultimately that it meant being out of the fly zone, so ….
Later, she and her husband—having also foisted a $7 cup of coffee(instant, I assure you) on some unsuspecting Germans, who it must be said, didn’t bat an eye…”let” us take a bit of a walk deeper into the valley –without charging us, but please don’t tell anyone—(her plea). The trail up to the campground is free. Wandering beyond there on the trails costs 75 pesos per person( almost $20), although the price goes to 100 pesos in January—despite the signage everywhere which maintains that the price is a mere(!)50.
Did our free wandering, and then headed back down the trail. We knew that we didn’t have enough time to make it to the glacier viewpoint, and make it back for the bus, so headed back, stopping to sit along the river, despite the whipping wind. Around here the choice is wind or flies! Wind was welcome!
Sat along the road waiting for the bus back for about 50 minutes, and it finally came at 5:25. Better late than never, as once again, the handful of cars returning to town neither slowed down nor stopped to find out whether we might need help. All worth it in the end, as the only other passengers on the van were couple from Buenos Aires who had clearly travelled extensively in the country, and gave us all sorts of gems about things to see in the Esquel/Parque de los Alerces area where we head in mid January, as well as some nuggets about the volcanic areas in Rio Negro province north of the city of Neuquen. Charming people who balanced the scale for friendly travel exchanges, at long last.
Olga, beautiful account. Roger has always dreamt of climbing in the Patagonias. Miss you and wish you well. Maria Moreano
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