Headed North...

Clayton here. We're in a city called Comodoro Rivadavia, in Argentina on the Atlantic coast. We left Puerto Natales the day after we finished our hike, arriving in Punta Arenas. There our hopes of making a cheap trip to Antarctica were dashed. Two years ago (apparently just after our guide was written) all the tourist agencies decided to cancel cheap standby tickets. I guess everyone was standing by. There was still a chance to go with a naval supply ship but there were no more trips scheduled this summer. We knew it was a long shot anyway. Seeing the penguins that afternoon more than made up for our disappointment. Strange creatures, they are actually somwhat boring, though they make some pretty strange noises. Next morning we travelled as far south as we could, to Ushuaia. Our first night was on the floor of a hostel, under the stairs, as every place seemed to be booked up. But it was a free night with free breakfast. We had an impromptu tour of the fire hall, which you would have been interested in Daniel. Spying the golf course, we knew there was no way we could resist the temptation. The southernmost course in the world. Aficionados out there will be interested to know that, like the water in the toilet, the ball actually spins the opposite way. This could be the only reason for achieving my highest score ever, losing six balls in nine holes. Moving on, the Parque Nacional Tierra del Fuego was small but pretty, and it contained our furthest point south in our journey, which is logged on Piet's gps. Ruta 3 in Argentina, the last part of the Panamerican Highway, 17800kms from Alaska: the end of the road. For us it had been km 20020. We made it to Tierra del Fuego. Our goal has been reached. Yaayy!... I don't know what else to say. Somehow it was almost anticlimactic for me, but that's not quite the right word... just strange. After over three hundred hours on buses, with nothing to do but contemplate our goal of the furthest point south, all we could come up with was, "Well, we can only go up from here". The land was again beautiful. Mostly flat prairie, very reminiscent of home, until you reach the south end of the island, where you are in low mountains again. We could see the Beagle Canal from the shore of Ushuaia, where Darwin sailed past on his ship, "The Beagle". When it came time to start heading north we decided we'd try hitching. Our goal was Rio Grande, only 220 kms away. It took four hours and two Mitsubishi trucks. We kept dry under the tarp as it was raining most of the time (I knew I brought that thing for something). And Piet's radio picked up the last bit of the football game between Boca Juniors and River Plate, just in time to hear the announcer scream "Gooaalllll!". It was a memorable experience for me, the first time hitch-hiking. Our attempt the next day didn't go so well. We had intended to make it to a point of confluence about 40 kms away, but couldn't rent bikes, and after an hour and a half of walking without someone so much as slowing down we decided to turn back. The rest of the day was spent reading by the woodstove in the hostel, the first time we had spent really just relaxing since we began the trip. Felt good. Rejuvenating. Caught an early bus to Rio Gallegos, crossing back over the Magellan straight, leaving Tierra del Fuego behind. Then we took a succession of trips arriving at Sarmiento, where we observed a 70 million year old petrified forest. Apparently a catastrophic natural disaster of some sort, like a volcanic eruption or a hurricane (maybe a flood, as some would suggest), knocked the entire forest over, covering it with silica and water, which eventually replaces the material in the trees to form trunks of rock. Over time the wind and rain have exposed the broken pieces. Quite a sight. The "wood chips" sound like broken glass under your feet.
And now we are back on the coast, waiting for a bus to Puerto Madryn, where we hope to see some marine wildlife. It'll be two nights in a row on a bus, but at least we are going up again. Somedays I can't wait to be home, that feeling always returning but never lasting for too long. I guess we just wish you could be here too, then we'd have the best of both worlds.
P.S. We will try to keep more consistent updates. And Joel, our German is rusty. What did you say?

Parque Nacional Torres del Paine

Hi,
I don´t know how far we are from Canada anymore ever since we travelled a few hundred kilometres on Route 40 in Argentina, a gravel highway. I do know, however, that we hiked about 80km in the last six days. We did what is known as the 'w' in Torres del Paine National Park, just outside Puerto Natales, Chile. This was to be one of the highlights of our trip. It almost wasn´t, but in the end it lived up to our expectations.
We arrived in Puerto Natales on Tuesday (hard to believe that was already a week ago), and spent that day stocking up on food, camping gas, and some much needed advice for two rookie trekkers. We actually hooked up with two Germans and a Korean. The one German was on our ferry and the other two we met in Calafate. The gringo trail is not a myth. We see the same people all the time, it´s crazy. Anyway, we all stayed in the same hostel. Alex and Lee only had two days to hike so we split up once we got to the park, but Birgit had six days so we let her hike with us.
Wednesday morning our bus picked us up promptly at 7:30. I was running a little behind because at 7:00 I went to the station of the previous day´s bus to see if they had found my Tim Horton`s cup, which I had left on that bus. It wasn´t there. Sorry Julie. Our first day in Torres we only hiked two hours. Our goal was to stay at free campsites the whole week, and the first night we stayed in the plain just south of the Torres and Cuernos (the most popular mountains of the park) which gave us a great view while walking towards them. On night one we encountered our first problem, mice. We hung up our food in the shelter, but that didn´t stop the mice from crawling around our tent, trying to get in. We were up till 2:30, swatting the side of the tent to get rid of them.
Day two was to be our hardest day, a seven hour hike to Glaciar Grey. The weather was cloudy and windy, but not too cold. During some parts of this hike we felt like we were in a wind tunnel. And at one point the bridge was missing part of it. Birgit and I walked through the water, which wasn´t deep, and Clay walked onto the bridge and used the parts that were there to replace the missing part. Nothing much exciting happened after that. We arrived at our campsite at 7:00, just as it was getting dark. The last hour was a grueling up and downhill climb. We set up our tents, checked out the glaciar at dusk, and ate noodles for supper. No mice at this campsite.
Day three was when things started going sour. It rained hard all night which meant we started late because we waited for the rain to stop to take down the tent. The hike was partly back to where we came from the previous day(you backtrack three times on this hike, which gives the trail the shape of a 'w'). It rained on and off, so we had to stop to put on and take off our ponchos, since they are necessary when it rains but very annoying when it´s not raining. We arrived at Campamento Italiano sometime before it got dark. Thankfully it wasn´t raining while we set up the tents. We had noodles again for supper. By the way, we bought a gas stove to use with our cooking set. We can use the water from any stream in the park, both for cooking and drinking. As we were getting into the tent we saw a mouse inside the tent. I put on a glove and was determined to catch it, and make it suffer very badly. I lost it somehow, so I took everything out of the tent and handed it to Clay who shook it out. No mouse anywhere. I t was a mistery until the next night Clay saw a hole in the bottom of the tent.
Saturday we had planned to walk up and down the Valley de Frances, but it was raining again so we opted for a two hour hike to Cuernos, a paid camping sight. We got very wet. At first we tried to avoid the water on the path, but when the path is a creek there´s not much you can do and once you`re feet are wet you might as well walk right through the creekpath. The timing of this rainy day could not have been better. The price of camping uncluded being able to use the lodge (where rooms cost $38), which meant we could cook and eat in a dry place, and dry ourselves and our clothes. Unfortunately, it was supposed to rain the next two days as well. We were all disappointed that day, with the rain, the mice, and the leaky tent. However, having grown up in Belgium, I automatically associate camping with rain, so maybe I was a little more prepared than the other two.
Sunday we couldn´t have asked for a better day. In fact, the reason the weather changed was probably due in no small part to asking. We had a long hike ahead of us but it was made much shorter by the sunshine, which made for spectacular views. We arrived at Campamento Las Torres (free again) early enough in the afternoon to take the 45 minute hike up to the Torres. This made our week. It´s pretty nice up there. The next night was quite cold, and Birgit and I got up a 5:30 to hike up to the Torres again and see them at sunrise. The reason I was able to get out of bed that early was knowing I would warm up by walking. Well, the view was pretty nice and definitely worth getting up for.
That was yesterday. We got back to Puerto Natales in the afternoon and had fries for snack and steak for supper. That´s all. Thanks for reading.
Pieter
By the way, we finally got those pictures of the Perito Moreno glacier posted.

El Calafate

Clayton here. I'm still unsure about whether or not our last blog was actually posted. For some reason it won't let me see it. (I must admit to being a computer illiterate.) It was only a short update without any real substance.
Still don't know what km it is but we'll add all that when we figure it out. I believe we left you in Puerto Montt, just before we were to take the ferry to Puerto Chacabuco. That turned out to be the ride of my life. Perhaps the story will seem like nothing to some of you but for about five minutes on Thursday morning I thought I might possibly die. Wednesday's daylight gave us some superb views of the land and sea; we rode some really big waves, saw jumping dolphins, sea lions and even some whales as the sun was setting. Much more than I could have hoped for. But at five o'clock Thursday morning the boat collided... with something, something big. The crash lasted about five seconds, seeming like an eternity. Everyone (maybe 200 passengers) was instantly awakened by the shaking of the boat, accompanied by the horrible sound of scraping metal in deep, deep water. The boat was on an angle and the motors were shut off. The windows showed nothing but black: water or sky. Most are looking at each other, not knowing what to say. Ten seconds later, someone comes running into the cabin with a life jacket in each hand yelling, "Jackets! Jackets!". Once we were all suited and on the top of the boat, they began to separate men from women and children. Commotion but not quite panick. I cannot summarize the panic in my head. Trying to recollect all the thoughts is nearly impossible. But at this point we could also make out lights in the distance, the faint outline of a shore, and the boat was right again, reversing. I began to calm down thinking I could make it if I had to swim, but what about the cold? And what about the sharks? I had dreamt the previous night about sinking ships and sharks and I really did not want to be in the water. About 15 minutes later and everyone was back in the cabins, but no one was going back to sleep. The morning light showed a tree branch, with green leaves, lying on the front of the ship. How is that possible? It wasn't long until someone came out to throw all the evidence overboard, including a broken light cover from the front light of the ship. (That light must stand at least 20 feet above the water.) A coast guard escorted us for the last hour, right into port. We never did get a view of the very front, and we were never told for certain what had happened. Anyway, having a lifelong fear of sharks, which is transferred to water in general, I was scared. What more can I say? Chile has been the location of the angriest moment in my life (when my backpack was stolen), and now the most frightening.
I did get back on the horse, so to speak, with another ferry that took us across Lago General Carrera (the same day). By that night we were camping in Los Antiguos, Argentina. The next morning we caught the bus to El Chalten: 14 hours of ranch land basically, mostly on rough gravel road. We saw guanacos (a relative of the llama), road runners, horses and cattle in a land without fences. The winds in Chalten prevented us from camping as the poles in our tent were bending in the wrong direction.
El Calafate, the next day, and we arranged a bus ride to the glacier Perito Moreno. I had never heard of this before, but apparently it is one of the only advancing glaciers in the world, if not the only. It creeps over a narrow point in a river, eventually closing it off completely. The water is diverted around the glacier up onto the banks, but eventually the pressure builds enough to break a tunnel through the glacier, maybe 500 metres long, fifty metres wide (huge anyway). This phenomenon occurred in March of 2004 and before that in 1988. Many were saying that it would happen the next day. However, the rupture happened the night we arrived in Calafate, so we missed it. Still, the icebergs that separate from the glacier are massive and the sound of the crash into the river can actually be felt sometimes. We were hoping to witness the collapse of the tunnel, but it fell apart in chunks. Still one of the most impressive displays of nature I have ever seen. I would suggest finding pictures of it on the net as I'm guessing there are some.
Tomorrow we depart from Calafate for Puerto Natales. One more day of last minute preparations for our week of trekking in Torres del Paine. Things are going well, as always. I've already forgotten the name of the ferry company. We miss you all and hope that everything is going well. And sorry for such a long read. It may be more than a week 'til we write again but we hope you'll stay tuned. As always, thanks for your comments.
P.S. The broken bed was in Puerto Montt, after the 40h famine. Now you know that we're really eating well (or maybe it was just that Powerbar made of lead). We laughed pretty hard, but not the next two times it happened. Thought about asking for a discount, but decided not to as it would be the second request. Piet asked for 40 percent off before we decided to stay there, and they gave it. But now we know why. At least the showers were warm.

El Calafate

Clayton here. I'm still unsure about whether or not our last blog was actually posted. For some reason it won't let me see it. (I must admit to being a computer illiterate.) It was only a short update without any real substance.
Still don't know what km it is but we'll add all that when we figure it out. I believe we left you in Puerto Montt, just before we were to take the ferry to Puerto Chacabuco. That turned out to be the ride of my life. Perhaps the story will seem like nothing to some of you but for about five minutes on Thursday morning I thought I might possibly die. Wednesday's daylight gave us some superb views of the land and sea; we rode some really big waves, saw jumping dolphins, sea lions and even some whales as the sun was setting. Much more than I could have hoped for. But at five o'clock Thursday morning the boat collided... with something, something big. The crash lasted about five seconds, seeming like an eternity. Everyone (maybe 200 passengers) was instantly awakened by the shaking of the boat, accompanied by the horrible sound of scraping metal in deep, deep water. The boat was on an angle and the motors were shut off. The windows showed nothing but black: water or sky. Most are looking at each other, not knowing what to say. Ten seconds later, someone comes running into the cabin with a life jacket in each hand yelling, "Jackets! Jackets!". Once we were all suited and on the top of the boat, they began to separate men from women and children. Commotion but not quite panick. I cannot summarize the panic in my head. Trying to recollect all the thoughts is nearly impossible. But at this point we could also make out lights in the distance, the faint outline of a shore, and the boat was right again, reversing. I began to calm down thinking I could make it if I had to swim, but what about the cold? And what about the sharks? I had dreamt the previous night about sinking ships and sharks and I really did not want to be in the water. About 15 minutes later and everyone was back in the cabins, but no one was going back to sleep. The morning light showed a tree branch, with green leaves, lying on the front of the ship. How is that possible? It wasn't long until someone came out to throw all the evidence overboard, including a broken light cover from the front light of the ship. (That light must stand at least 20 feet above the water.) We never did get a view of the very front, and we were never told for certain what had happened. Anyway, having a lifelong fear of sharks, which is transferred to water in general, I was scared. What more can I say? Chile has been the location of the angriest moment in my life (when my backpack was stolen), and now the most frightening.
I did get back on the horse, so to speak, with another ferry that took us across Lago General Carrera (the same day). By that night we were camping in Los Antiguos, Argentina. The next morning we caught the bus to El Chalten: 14 hours of ranch land basically, mostly on rough gravel road. We saw guanacos (a relative of the llama), road runners, horses and cattle in a land without fences. The winds in Chalten prevented us from camping as the poles in our tent were bending in the wrong direction.
El Calafate, the next day, and we arranged a bus ride to the glacier Perito Moreno. I had never heard of this before, but apparently it is one of the only advancing glaciers in the world, if not the only. It creeps over a narrow point in a river, eventually closing it off completely. The water is diverted around the glacier up onto the banks, but eventually the pressure builds enough to break a tunnel through the glacier, maybe 500 metres long, fifty metres wide (huge anyway). This phenomenon occurred in March of 2004 and before that in 1988. Many were saying that it would happen the next day. However, the rupture happened the night we arrived in Calafate, so we missed it. Still, the icebergs that separate from the glacier are massive and the sound of the crash into the river can actually be felt sometimes. We were hoping to witness the collapse of the tunnel, but it fell apart in chunks. Still one of the most impressive displays of nature I have ever seen. I would suggest finding pictures of it on the net as I'm guessing there are some.
Tomorrow we depart from Calafate for Puerto Natales. One more day of last minute preparations for our week of trekking in Torres del Paine. Things are going well, as always. I've already forgotten the name of the ferry company. We miss you all and hope that everything is going well. And sorry for such a long read. It may be more than a week 'til we write again but we hope you'll stay tuned. As always, thanks for your comments.

Tourist trap

Clayton here. We're in El Chalten, paying exorbitantly for the use of the net. This will be a short one, as we must always email our families first. Don't have a clue what kilometer it is. On to El Calafate tonight where we hope to see the glacier Ventisquero Perito Moreno, which some seem to say is still advancing. Anyway, we have at least one good story to tell. It will take more time than we have to tell properly so you will have to wait with bated breath. The anticipation is horrible I know. Hope all is well with everyone.

40 Hour Famine and other stories

It´s actually not as hard as it sounds, especially when you don´t have a choice. Everything was going according to plan Saturday. We went shopping for a new camera among other things, and ate our favourite new food (Lomito for Clay, Completo for Piet) at the mall foodcourt at 4:30 pm. We were tempted by Pizza Hut for about half a second till we came to our senses. Anyway, to make a long story short, this was to be our last meal until 8:30 Monday morning. Here´s the long version:
We took a bus to Puerto Varas, where we apparently caught the last bus to Petrohue, thanks to the unexpected help of some friendly Chileans. The driver dropped us off near some waterfalls in Vicente Perez Rosales National Park, and we camped for free next to the river. The new tent is awesome, by the way. We got there pretty late so we just went for a walk till it got dark, then went to bed. We planned to walk to Petrohue, 6km away, on Sunday. We made a little fire in the morning and had our instant coffee. Soon after that it started raining so we sat in the tent to wait it out. It stopped raining at 9:30 pm. At one point in the afternoon I thought we should try to make a break for it, but Clay convinced me otherwise thankfully. With no food, and only the little riverwater we had boiled in the morning to drink we had only one thing to do: think about food. Well, that and sleep, read, practice Spanish and listen to the radio. I actually listened to a newsbroadcast from Holland on shortwave. We did have my emergency Powerbar (don´t laugh) but we wanted to save it for the morning. We went to sleep at 10:30 but didn´t sleep well on the hard ground.
Monday morning we opened that Powerbar, and no, it still didn´t taste that good, but it gave us some form of sustenance for the walk to Petrohue. It seemed like we would never get there. For the first 45 minutes we saw four signpost, each saying Petrohue was 6km away. We did get there eventually though, and ate exactly what we wanted, a sandwich with ham, cheese, and tomato, and a coffee. Very good. We also bought groceries for supper, macaroni, peas, asparagus soup, and two chocolate bars. After a little boat tour on the lake we got dropped off at the other side at our campground. The lake is nice, but with the clouds we couldn´t see any of the three volcanoes which give it its apparant spectacular scenery. We hiked up the hill to gather firewood. Supper wasn´t that good, but filling, except for the chocolate bars.
This morning it was raining again, but we had no choice but to go since our ferry for Puerto Chacabuco leaves tonight. We packed our bags, and right when it was time to pack up the tent there was a 10 minute break in the rain. When we were ready to go, the fisherman who was going to boat us across couldn´t get his boat started. He told us to yell across to the men at the other side. It was pouring rain, and it took us about 5 minutes to get there attention. In the meantime, the bus back to Puerto Varas was on it way, but saw us yelling and waiving our arms, so he started honking and yelling to see if we needed a ride, so we started waiving at him too. Quite a scene, but maybe you had to be there. We got across, and made our way back to Puerto Montt, where we are now. Our ferry leaves at 8:00pm.
For those of you who are interested, we are now as far south of the equator as York, NE is north, and in one week we will be as far south as Dauphin, MB is north.
Pieter

Puerto Montt

km 17365
Clayton here. Had some time, so we thought we'd put an update on even though there's not too much to say. We came from Pucon on lake Villarrica, a beautiful little tourist town. The lake was cold and clear, with an active volcano for a backdrop. Quite a sight at night.
Another first: we finally cooked our own meal. Piet found a good set of camping utensils in Santiago, so we had our first barbecue. Pretty good I might add. That night we had to sleep with our bags in the tent, so first thing in the morning we started looking for a bigger tent. Found a good one for almost half price and then we sold my old tent to the camp owner, so it worked out to be a pretty good deal.
Here in Puerto Montt, we have a few days to kill as our ferry does not leave until Tuesday night. In the time being we will go to Lagos Todos los Santos, which, according to our guidebook, is the most beautiful in the Lake District. It is rather pretty country down here, more and more beautiful forests the further we go. For that reason, among others, I am glad to finally be away from Santiago. Maybe it's just the big city aspect, but I can't see that I would want to go back there, speaking only for myself of course.
We should be in Torres del Paine by next Sunday at the latest, arriving in Ushuaia (just a little further south of Tierra del Fuego) by the end of March. It's all a little later than we had originally planned, but it's no problema.
I wish I had some evocative thoughts to share, maybe even spark some kind of debate, for interest's sake. I'll leave you with a quote from one of my esteemed uncles. "Life is like a roll of toilet paper: the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes." Until the next sheet of two-ply...
P.S. That reminds me of an interesting fact that you may not be aware of. Everywhere south of Mexico you are required to place the toilet paper in the garbage receptacle, as it will plug the sewer. There are many signs posted to remind you. After a couple of months it seems almost natural. Just thought you should know.