This post has no pictures

First, a disclaimer: This post will have NO pictures. The subject is a digestive disturbance, so if you don´t want to hear about poo, don´t read this. There is also some minor profanity, as it relates to the digestive process. If you know me well, you know that I believe the bathroom has a door for a reason, and this is one of my least favorite subjects. Therefore...

A dedication: To Hobbit, my dearest friend, who dug a hole in a rainstorm for me.
Consider this your Christmas present. I know how much you LOVE to tell this story, and hear it told, so this is liscence to do so freely. You have been begging me to write a blog on this subject for weeks, so here it is.

The tale begins in Samaipata, Bolivia. We set out on a 3 day trek that was to take us through cloud forests, canyons and river crossings. The first day started well; we spent the day making our way through a valley and up a mountain covered in a forest of prehistoric ferns, as tall as tall pines, but with no wood or roots. It was a long day, trekking through ankle deep mud and climing over 1000 meters in elevation. We made camp in a refugio--a small house, over 100 years old, which had recently been graced with a new roof, but was mostly just a clay shelter on the side of a mountain. The local who was restoring the place and clearing out an area for a garden was done for the day, so he showed us where to get water, and the shovel (which translated means toilet), then he headed back down the mountain to his family.

So Hobbit grabbed a tree branch and started sweeping out the house while I cooked dinner. I had a headache, and my muscles were sore, but I didn´t think too much of it until later. After dinner it got dark quickly, and we sat and watched the stars and fireflies come out, and then a lightning storm coming over the mountain. We said goodnight to the guide (who was sleeping in another shelter) and Hobbit, our friend Laura and I rolled out our sleeping bags and went to bed.

A couple hours later, I woke up suddenly with a feeling of imminent disaster in the pit of my stomach. I frantically unzipped my sleeping bag, searched for my shoes in the dark, grabbed the toilet paper and ran outside. Well, almost. The hundred year old house has door frames that are about as tall as the middle of my forehead, so I smacked myself pretty hard, stumbled a bit, then stepped out into a full-on thunderstorm. The temperature had dropped from the pleasant afternoon warmth, and the light of the moon was gone behind the clouds, so I waited, shivering and clenching my butt cheeks until I could see the shovel by the light of a lightening strike. I headed into the bushes, and did what had to be done. I have never had such horrible diarhea. I burried my poo and toilet paper and stumbled back into the house (hitting my head on the way in).

"Hobbit! Are you awake?" I asked.
"No. What the hell are you doing?"
"I think I´m sick," I said. "Do you have some toilet paper, or water?"
"No. You´ll be fine. Go to bed." He mumbled and rolled over.

What happened over the next 8 hours is pretty hazy for me, but this is what I´ve piece together. About every 20-30 minutes or so, I raced against a disaster in my pants, out into a thunderstorm of epic proportions, to dig a hole in the dark, fill it back up again, and then crawl back into my sleeping bag. If this doesn´t sound terrible already, consider that everything that could possibly make the situation more miserable, did.

My muscles started to ache and cramp, and sleeping in a bag on a clay floor offered little relief. I started to burn up with a fever. The chills and sweats were helped along by the exposure to the cold, driving rain every time I exited the shelter, at which point I routinely slammed my aching head against the doorframe in my hurry to exit. I was desperately thirsty, and despite all the rain, had no drinking water left. At some point, Hobbit was woken up by my mumbling incoherently, and discovered my fever and distress. He headed out into the storm and got some fresh water (I don´t know from where) and came back to find me in a terrible state.

"My head hurts, my bones hurt! I can´t stop shitting!"
"Hey, you´re ok, I got you some water..." Hobbit tried to console me.
"No, this is bad." I started crying. "And now my socks are wet, and I can´t dig a hole because it´s too muddy! And it´s so cold!"
"You´re fine, you´re ok. Just lay down for a minute and I´ll help you."

And then, my dear friend Hobbit put his own sleeping bag over me, in my sleeping bag, grabbed the shovel and a headlamp, and headed into the storm. He dug me a hole deep enough to make it until morning, got me a new roll of toilet paper from his pack, and started feeding me ibuprofin. He slept under a towel since he gave me his sleeping bag. "We have a car coming in the morning," he said. "They were going to transport us to the next base camp, but we´ll take you back to town and to the doctor. You can make it til morning. You´ll be ok."

The hours until morning were almost unbearable. It was a perfectly designed torture. I shivered and sweated, shitted and ached. I lay waiting for minutes at a time, clenching my butt, waiting for the rain to let up, just a little. When morning came, I was full of hope, but my digestive tract was as empty as it´s ever been.

Hobbit woke up and headed over to talk to the guide about getting out. While he was out, the only thing left, the one thing that could make this all worse... it happened. Hobbit walked back through the door with his characteristic sunny smile and saw me standing in the doorway to the little side room.

"Feeling better?" he asked brightly.
"No!" I was horrified. "I am not better! Shit in my pants is NOT better, Hobbit! No!"
"No. No. You shit your pants. No."
"Yes," I wailed. "This is not good!"
Our friend Laura woke up. "Wait what´s happening?" She asked sleepily.

Hobbit headed for my pack, got me clean clothes and some cleaning supplies. Then he delivered the bad news.

"Listen, Sarah. Just don´t freak out now."
"Hobbit," I responded, "I cannot possibly BE more freaked out than I already am."
"The road is washed out."
"What does that mean?"
"It means... The driver that was coming to get us couldn´t make it up the mountain. No one can." I stared at him. "We have to hike out of here."
I just stared. He continued.
"The guide says it´s about a 2 hour hike, normally. We have to go over the mountain, but after the first part it´s on a gravel road and the end is flat."
"There´s no one coming to get us?"
"No, Sarah. They can´t. The only way out is to hike. We could wait here, maybe tomorrow they could get up, but even then, it´s not sure. We´ll empty your pack and carry your load. We are walking out of here."

Thus began a miserably long trek, over a mountain, in drizzling rain, with frequent poo-breaks, a fever and shaking, aching limbs. Hobbit cheered me on the whole way, secretly gleeful about the story unfolding before him. An adventure in the backcountry AND diarhea? What could be better! As he has often explained, diarhea is the funniest sickness.

I eventually made it to a waiting car, which deposited me at a hospital, where a doctor sent me home to the hostel to sleep for the next three days with instructions to drink and rest and eat simple foods. In the normal course of things, this would have been a mean sickness, but the circumstances were just so perfectly awful that I can´t help but laugh. Why can´t I get sick near civilization? But then, not all was terrible. I couldn´t have asked for a better friend for the situation; he did everything but carry me out of there.

The Salt Flats

After a rediculously disorganized 5 hour long border crossing into Bolivia, Hobbit and I caught a bus to a little town called Tupiza.


We were on our way to the Salar de Uyuni, the worldest largest salt flats.


This post is best experienced in pictures, I think, so I´ll keep the descriptions to a minimum.


Together with Thomas, the Swiss guy from New Years and Laura, a girl we met on the bus who is from Holland and booked a Jeep and headed out on a 4 day tour of the remote and beautiful southern region of Bolivia.


The first day was all about llamas and colorful landscapes.


The mountains in this area are are extremely rich in minerals, which is apparent in the beautifully varied colors on the mountainsides.


We stayed that night in a little mountain pueblo (village) with maybe 25-30 inhabitants.


The next morning was a 4 am wake up call to start the journey up.


This second day was the beginning of the serious elevation, and for me, elevation sickness.


A little nausea, shortness of breath and a headache couldn´t keep me out of the natural hot springs though!


Even those that weren´t sick were huffing and puffing on the 10 meter walk to and from the jeep--4500 meters is very high.


Day 3 was the day of the flamingo!


We saw 3 varieties at various lakes, which were themselves colored spectacularly by minerals.


We stopped to observe a newly developed geyser that had just started erupting 5 days earlier.


That night we stayed in one of the famous salt hotels.


These buildings are constructed from--you guessed it--salt.


Not just the walls though, furniture was constructed from salt blocks, benches, tables, chairs, we even slept on beds made of salt brick (with a mattress).


And the final day was the crowning moment.


We drove directly accross the salt flats which are really a prehistoric salt lake that is constantly still evaporating.


We stopped at a cactus "island" for breakfest, a bit of somewhat fertile land which used to be an actual island.


It is covered in ancient cacti, some as old as a thousand years.


While there we were graced wth the presence of an ostrich begging for a little of our breakfest.


Then we headed out onto the great expanse of chrystalline whiteness.


We stopped and took some photos, and headed back to town.


A really beautiful 4 days of early mornings, spectacular sunrises and 5000 meters of altitude.

Vacation from vacation - Hobbit

It´s been a long busy time traveling and it was time for a vacation from our trip...Christmas and New Year´s where the perfect opportunity for this.

What to do for Christmas was the big question. Well we came up with the perfect plan: go to Mendoza, Argentina (the wine capital of Argentina), find a hostel with a pool and spend it with friends we have met along the way.

This Christmas became a Christmas of legend because we were not the only people that came up with this plan. When we arrived at Break Point, we found that there were several other groups of travelers with the same mindset - eat loads of meat (except Sarah of course), drink and relax by the pool. After weeks of hard traveling, this was a well deserved break for all.

We arrived on the 23rd, settled in and made plans for meals and activities. As Paul and I were figuring things out over a beer, this journalist came up to us and asked us if we´d answer a few questions. The interview was basically about traveling away from home over the holidays and what we planned on doing. We thought nothing of it until the next day. As we where walking around town, we came across a news stand, and there we where front page of the local paper. Yeah, I know just wasted my 15 minutes in Argentina, hell at least I got my 15 minutes!!

On the 24th, Paul, Rach and I decided it would be smart to pay some Argentinian guy $50 to run off a mountain and fly. Well, this might be one of the stupidest, yet coolest things I´ve ever done! Paragliding for those who have a fear of heights is not as glamorous as it sounds when the reservations are made. At first the fear of running off a mountain was enough for me to change into adult diapers, but then to watch these gliders go up and up and then up again I turned a lighter shade of white than Sarah! It was finally my turn. Here I was strapped to some guy who I just met and he is telling me in which direction to run off this perfectly solid mountain. It was time and I ran and all of a sudden I was flying!! It was an incredible feeling, until I looked down and we were going higher!! We flew for about 30 minutes and finally we were on the ground and I was happy, ready for a cold one!!

Christmas Eve night became a festival atmosphere at the hostel. Everyone ate and some groups exchanged presents. Once all the formalities of Christmas Eve were completed, a circle of friends formed around some music. The music was lead by an Irishman of course. Harry played and sang for seven hours, while others sang along, danced and holla hooped. This became the Christmas family, it included English folk, Australians, Americans, Swiss, Germans, Qiwis and Swedes. The festivities lasted through Christmas Day. It was a joyful occasion and everyone was thankful to find each other!!



On boxing day it was time to explore wine country, by bike. Really, wine and bikes, a perfect combination!! A group of 11 went to find the famous Mr. Hugo. He welcomed us with free wine and delicious empanadas. Once we where set on wine and food, it was time to make the 15 km ride to the first vineyard, uphill by the way. Some made it, some missed the big sign in English that said OPEN (Sarah)!! Once everyone was gathered together the tour began with a tasting, followed by the purchase of several bottles that were to be drank prior to the actual tour. This was followed by a bike trip to the next vineyard and more tasting. The bike became much easier to handle after this and it was time to head back to Mr. Hugo to return the bike. We where once again greeted with open arms and free wine. This was a perfect end to a wonderful holiday spent with amazing people from all over the world!! Well actually, I did some high quality rafting the next day with Sarah and Paul. That might have been the best way to end the holiday!!

So the next question, New Year´s? Most people went their own way as we all have our own goals while traveling, but some of us decided to met in Salta, Argentina. Thomas, Micheal, Rach, Cat and Beth all decided to met at the hostel Terra Occulta and celebrate 2010. Once again we found a wonderful group of travelers all in the same mindset.

Once we arrived, Sarah and I first, we rested and explored the beautiful city of Salta. This was the first city we have been to that had an actual Latin American feel and it was wonderful. One by one the New year´s family arrived and the festivities began. The hostel put on a huge spread for 30+ people, vegetarians and carnivores. The lay out of this hostel includes a roof top bar, this is where we ate. It was perfect because once we where done, the fire works began and we could see them all. It was time to dance and celebrate in typical Argentian fashion - past the break of day.

The next day, plans where made for our escape from Argentina and now I sit in Bolivia, halfway through our journey. I want to share a few things that I miss from home:

-Every aspect of the whole bathroom experience!! For example, the ability to throw toilet paper in the toilet. In South America, after use the TP goes in the bin sitting next to the toilet. One does get used to it after a while, but it is still not acceptable! Also, the ability to wash one´s hands with soap after use of the toilet has been lost on most of the South American culture. You either get soap or a towel to dry or nothing at all.

-Not the snow!!

-Privacy. The most privacy I get is in the tent. Otherwise it has been two months of dorm rooms. This is not all bad because of the social aspect of things, but one does enjoy a bit of privacy. When I get home, I´m locking myself in my room for three weeks!!

-PIZZA!! They have no idea how to make pizza down here - they put cherries on it!! And while I´m at it, I´m dieing for a good burger.

-NOT WORK!!

-SIERRA NEVADA!! So the beer here is, well beer. I´m ready for a hoppy cold one!!

-Finally the thing I miss most - my bed!! I have been sleeping in some of the worst beds on the planet. The worst type of bed, which I see frequently, is the one that has a big ¨V¨in the middle of it. I would also die for one night with my pillow!! The general rule on hostel pillows is a thin, flat hard thing.

So there you go, we are half way through our journey. We haven´t killed each other and we are still best friends! The show must go on, Bolivia, Peru and finally Brazil. The next two months are jammed pack with few breaks. The treks get harder, but the sights get more and more incredible!! Take care!!

El Bolson and Back Again - Sarah

Bonus Section!


Perito Moreno: The Last Advancing Glacier in the World
Before our trek to the Fitz Roy, we spent a day exploring around El Calafate, which is home to one of the world´s great natural wonders: an advancing glacial ice field. We rented a car, and got to the glacier just after sunrise. The ice field sits between two peaks, and pours over the mountain range to divide what would be one lake into two. Later in the season, an icebridge forms as the water wears away the underside and causes incredible collapses. When we saw it, we were lucky to see a large chunk of blue ice creak and groan and shudder and eventually fall into the lake to create a huge wave and a brand new BLUE iceberg. As stunning as the view was though, what impressed me most was the sound of the glacier. I´ve never heard such deep, loud, violent sounds, and it was incredible to hear them coming from within something that seems so still. Truly one of my top sights on this trip.

We spent the rest of the day exploring an estancia (working ranch) and around some lovely local lakes. We took the back roads back to El Calafate and were rewarded with a sighting of two Condors riding air currents above the cliffs on the roadside. A good day.







El Bolson... Again.

We´ve grown quite fond of El Bolson, known as the hippie-haven of South America. The locals voted to create a ¨nuclear free zone¨ a few years ago, it´s surrounded by organic farms and has a hippie market with everything for sale from artisan beer to hairy, carved trolls. We spent five days there in a campground with some of the hottest showers I´ve seen in months. There were views of the mountains, clean, cold drinking water from the local glaciers, and a beer shop just down the road. We spent those days recovering from trekking, building massive campfires, drinking good beer and making friends. I happened to meet the only other person on the face of the planet (maybe) who travels with a hula hoop, so we danced alot too. Also there were a LOT of birds--pretty birds with long beaks and red legs that make a sound like a childs toy horn, brown hawks that steal any unattended food, and annoying seagull-like birds that were loud and pestering. That was it, really, for five days. We woke up, ate, debated for an hour or two about the merits of walking into town, ate again, drank a beer, then a few more, then started cooking. Repeat for five days. It was fantastically lazy, and really a lot of fun. We made a couple of half-hearted attempts to do something with water, and thought about going on a trek, but had a couple of reccomendations to move on to Bariloche, which is much more touristy and has more organized adventure-sport opportunities.

When we arrived in Bariloche, we were asking about whitewater kayaking, and the agency put us in touch with a guide in... El Bolson. I was not a particular fan of the touristy Bariloche, so we spent a day there before getting back on the bus to El Bolson.

The guide (Shea) had been guiding for a few years, but was opening up his own adventure-sports business in connection with his parents Eco-Sustainability-Estancia-Lodge thing. Basically, they are about 90% self sufficient, as in they raise their own sheep and cows and fresh produce with which they produce all of their own food except cheese, beer and flour, and have methane collection for heat, wind and solar power and all kinds of other crazy things. In an absolutely beautiful setting, of course. The lodge is geared for high-end guests, but they let us camp and use the facilities for free as part of the Kayaking tour. Pretty sweet.


The adventure really begins with the kayaking. The day started on the lake, where Shea took us out and taught us the Eskimo rescue, which involves flipping the kayak upside down, then grabbing on to another person or kayak or something to flip back upright. Then he taught us to do it with a paddle. I managed it once, all the way right, but Hobbit got through it a couple times. It´s hard. And the water is cold.
In the afternoon, we took to the river, where the disaster began in ernest. These tiny little river kayaks are super unstable, and very flippable. So of course, I flipped. Hit a little eddy, and flipped again. No big deal, we were learning to read the river, navagating some easy little rapids, and having a great time. I was actually doing really well in the rapids sections, and suprising the guide that I didn´t cry or quit after getting dumped in the river. But then, just as we entered the second series of real-deal rapids, it all went seriously wrong. I went flying over a submerged boulder, ¨punching¨ through the hole on the other side, and headed for the second boulder, smiling, paddling, a little terrified and super happy about it until Hobbit came from behind, hit me and flipped me. I don´t know what happened to him, but I can tell you the story from the perspective of upside down, underwater.

I was aware that I had been heading towards the second boulder when something crazy happened, and I was suddenly submerged, knowing that that boulder was headed my way, fast. Sure enough, a chest first collision with the boulder rocked me pretty hard, and knocked all the air out of my chest. But this was a long set of rapids, so I proceded to bounce off of the next three or four big huge rocks while the current held me twisted away from the grab line that releases the skirt (and me) from the kayak. When I was able to twist around and grab the release, I was about halfway through the rapids, and though able to breathe, was still very much concerned about the rocks that seemed intent on doing me harm. The addition of air was a huge improvement in lifestyle, but while the upper part of my body had been largely protected by safety equipment, my legs were open for the business of bruises. I´m recovering nicely, but in the span of about 1 minute received enough bruises to make you think that I´d been beaten by loansharks with baseball bats. My legs are mighty colorful (the picture here is fresh out of the water, before full development, and represents the front of both shins, my other thigh and unfortunately, my butt). Anyway, I got back in the kayak, and attempted a few more smooth moves before my back injury put an end to the fun.

This was maybe the best thing I´ve done yet.

So the next day, we took it easy, did a horseback tour of the mountains, ate some of the best pizza in South America, and enjoyed the peaceful and beautiful setting before heading to San Rafael. And in case you were wondering, yes, that is a sheep following Hobbit through a river crossing. This ram attached itself to us when we stopped at a refugio near a locally famous canyon. The canyon was spectacular, narrow enough to stand with one leg on either side, with a blue river gushing about 30 meters below. This was the Rio Azul, upstream of where we had kayaked the day before, and is one of the most beautifully blue rivers I´ve ever seen. But the ram... Just started following Hobbit as he rode away from the fence, snuck quickly through the gate when we tried to lock him behind it, then nearly drowned trying to cross the river which was chest deep for the horses! He followed us to another refugio, where we eventually locked him in a cabin, and sent word to his owner about his whereabouts.

That´s all for now folks! Have a happy Christmas; we´ll make sure to blog about ours here as well.

Peace,
Sarah

The Fitz Roy

So we completed our second trek, I´m sorry to say that the weather was perfect and apparently we are now in better shape than the first debacle! The Fitz Roy is a huge peak overlooking the town of El Chalten. El Chalten is this lazy little town huddled in the mountains. It is a rock climbers paradise, with great treks around the Fitz Roy.

A lesson learned from last time was not to pack while under the influence, so when I relized at dinner that two liter bottles of beer would definetly be considered under the influence, I put the packing off until the next morning. Well, after several more liters of beer, ¨morning¨meant mid afternoon! So, we kinda got a late start, late enough to not getting a bus ticket out of El Chalten before siesta.



I don´t know if siesta has been covered for the gringos. Siesta is the time after lunch when EVERTHING is closed. The closing lasts anywhere from 3 to 5 hours, depending on the store keeper and how much they like their siesta. The siesta phenomeona truely sneaks up on you everyday, because it is always lost in any planning!

Back to the trek, since Sarah and I had to wait until five to get our tickets, Sibylle and Sebastian went ahead with our tent to set it up as the first day was a four hour hike. We finally get our tickets and head to the trailhead and to our surprise Sibylle and Sebastian are sitting there. They had gone two hours down the wrong trail!! Hilarious!! The actual trailhead was on the other side of town!!

We gathered together and found that we could make a two hour hike to Lago Capri and camp there, so off we went. Beautiful evening, the trail was uphill all the way, but it wasn´t that bad. Yeah I was winded when I got to the campsite, but I felt pretty good - a master of the two hour hike!! It was a beautiful campsite with an incredible sunset over the lake.

The next day we had an hour hike to the base of the Fitz Roy. We arrived easily and debated to make the accent to the actual base of the peak. Sarah and Sibylle wisely decided to move on to the next campsite which was three hours away. The moron twins, Sebastian and I, had to go up. We left our packs, and began the climb. STRAIGHT UP SWITCH BACKS!! PAIN!! The park information said it would take 2 hours to get up and 1.5 hours to get down. Not these idiots, 1 hour 15 minutes to get up, 45 minutes to get down!! We were insane, something took over us and we were passing people all the way. It was impressive, and a bit crazy because one wrong step and it was a long way down!

We get to the top and the Fitz Roy looms overhead in all her majesty. In front of her is a frozen lake, yes we where above the snow line in short sleeves, incredibile!! We walked out on the lake, solid! We then walked around a smaller peak and the site took my breath away. A huge tourquise lake fed by a glacier. It was incredible, I couldn´t take my eyes off of it. We had to go, we needed to make camp before nught fall. So down we went, at a high rate of speed. We got to the bottom and my worst dreams had been developing and it had become an issue. Every man´s worst nightmare - chaffing!! I got to my pack and frantically looked for the Gold Bond, AHHHH!! Not in the pack!! So here I am, the chaf has taken hold and I´m three hours away from camp. Only thing to do is suck it up and push foward.

And I did, ignoring any pain and kept going. We are now into hour 5 of the hike, with an hour to go and the trail turns up again. I´m completely spent, going uphill and chaffing....kill me now!! We make it and I instantly sit down. Then to the tent for some sort of relief. The rest of the evening was spent in the tent since walking has become and issue! Luckily the kitchen was set up right next to my tent door - perfect!! Dinner was served, and I slipped into my bag hoping for the best the next day. By some miracle, and the use of some unknown ointment, things for my boys where much better the next day. So off we went down the mountain, the problem was there seemed to be alot of up again. After the previous days climb, my up muscles where no longer working, so it was quite the struggle. It took us four hours to get out, not the three we where told. Straight to the cold beers and life was good for a bit.

We swung by the bus place to pay for our tickets. In El Chalten there is only one ATM, it is ussually out of money or broken. When we left on our trek it was broken. So Christian, the bus guy, told us no problem, I´ll hold the reservation. No such luck, the bus leaving that night was full and they had sold our reservation, AUGH!!! The good thing was that the ATM had money and worked! So we went and got money while Christian worked on our problem. We ended up getting a ticket for 7 AM the next morning to El Calfate, where we came from. Then catching a 2 PM bus ride to El Bolson. Done, get us out of here!!

We get to El Calfate and prepare for our 32 hour bus ride to El Bolson. We buy a ton of snack food and drink and off we went. The bus stopped randomly at several eateries in random towns, we think owned by family members! The bus broke down twice. Once in the middle of the night with a blown tire. And once in the middle of the day with a broken belt. Which was hilarious to watch them fix! We where in the middle of nowhere, the drivers where picking up belts holding them up to the engine to check for the proper fit and shaking their heads and putting the belts back down. They finally got the right one, made some adjustments and we where on our way. We finally made it to El Bolson, but that´s a story for another day. I hope everyone is enjoying life, I know we are!

Pengiunos! And the worlds best breakfest.

This is a bit of a backtrack, since Hobbit posted faster than me.

After the strenuous schedule of going to the beach, drinking beer, riding horses through a national park and down the beach in Uruguay, we opted for a change of scenery.
Rather than committing to a 48+ hour bus ride down to Ushuaia, we decide to take a cheaper, four hour flight to the "End of the World". This city at the southern tip of the continent is the closest that most people get to Antartica without taking a cruise ship (in another life, perhaps). It´s generally a tourist trap, but beautiful nonetheless. It´s COLD! Even in spring,

there is a sharp chill on the air, and the days are LONG. Sunrise is around 4 am and sets at 10 or so. We spent a couple days in a quiet hostel run by a sweet Argentinian guy and his Basset Hound and adopted Sheepdog. We went hiking in the park on the Beagle Channel, saw some glaicers and wildlife including horses, and generally recovered from Uruguay. While we were in Ushuaia, Hobbit received the news that his dog, Mr. Bojangles had been hit by a car and died. I´m sure that anyone reading this understand the deep love that Hobbit has for his friend and companion, and the sadness at this loss. I would like to thank Keith for his sensitivity and kindness in caring for Bo and Hobbit. No one could have handled this tragic situation better. Anyone who knew Mr. Bo will miss his crazy love, and we carry his memory with us on our journey.

After leaving Ushuaia, on the 12 hour ride to Punta Arenas in Chile, we met a Swiss girl named Sibylle, who´s been traveling with us ever since. The bus ride itself was kind of cool! I saw my first Vaicuno (a larger, wild version of a llama) lots of sheep, and even some gauchos (cowboys wearing berets, vests and baggy pants tucked into boots) herding them! We arrived late at the Hostel Independencia in Punta Arenas. If you´re ever in the area I reccommend it for the following reasons:
1. Eduardo. The owner is the tour guide, therapist, entertainment director, matchmaker, cook, mountain guide, and physicial therapist. Need a tent? He´s got one. Need a bus? He´s on the phone for hours getting you a seat on a sold out bus. Need a prescription? He has a medicine cabinet stocked with your first dose and directions to the pharmacy. Want to stay at his hostel but it´s sold out? No problem, he´ll be happy to pitch you a tent in the yard until a room opens up, or make calls to find you another hostel.
2. Breakfest. Eduardo makes the best hostel breakfest on the face of the planet. Omlette, yogurt, cereal, warm, fresh bread and jam, coffee, tea, juice. It is FANTASTIC.
3. Other than Eduardo and his breakfest, there is no good reason to be in Punta Arenas. He will try to help you find things to do, but it´s really just a place to go when you´re trying to get to somewhere else.
While there, we added another member to our happy little family. Sebastian the German-French physicist decided to join us on our trek through Torres del Paine. He´s been with us ever since and we have just tons of fun. The busses are constantly a problem here, never available when you need it, and full. So we got stuck in Punta Arenas and decided to take a

tour of the nearby penguin colony. It was (predictably) adorable! They are in the middle of taking turns eating and caring for the eggs, so we got to see them finding each other, dancing and kissing in their little routines, and trading places.

One last note for any of my political friends reading this...
The yard sign war is alive and well in Chile and Uruguay! They are everywhere, and the campaigns have competing rallies on opposite sides of the street, waving flags and blaring music. They even doorknock and pass out political literature! I´m really enjoying watching the process and comparing notes. (Don´t worry Mom, I´m staying out of it.) It is hard to resist just stepping into a campaign office to ask about their voter registration systems and if they have databases like ours, but I have Hobbit to help hold me back!

That´s all for now. I´m almost a month in, and already I feel like I´m short on time. In my head I start planning the next trip...

Ciao!
Sarah

Torres Del Paine - Hobbit

I know it´s been a while, but it´s hard to find a computer that will allow us to download pictures, and what´s a blog without pictures???

So we have arrived in El Calafate, Argentina. We are moving north and slowly making our way out of the cold weather. Our last stop was Puerto Natales, where we prepared for our first big trek at Torres del Paine. A little geography lesson, this park is located in southern Chile in the Patagonia - which by the way is incredible!!

We arrived the night before our departure, so it was a mad rush to get our packs prepared, dumping all unnecessary gear. Of course, there were beers involved thanks to Sebastian. 7 AM the next morning the bus arrives and off we go to the park arriving about 11 AM. Perfect day, sunny nice breeze, probably about 60 degrees. We ate our lunch and began. It all started out very innocent, flat and smooth trail and we were all smiling. About an hour in I began to notice that my pack ws quite heavy, heavier than ussual. Hmmm, eh, what do you do? Continue on, it´s is only a five hour trek!! Well, things turned when the trail started to climb, up and more up, and then some more up. This is when I relized that packing while under the influence is a bad idea - I had all the freaking food!! This went on for 3.5 hours, brutal!! Sarah and I were slow and steady with many stops along the way. Sibylle and Sebastian on the otherhand were flying up the slopes, I guess that´s what happens when your from the Alps!! We get to the top of the pass and it was all worth it, beautiful views of the valley that were breathtaking!! After that three more hours of up and we arrived at the campsite. Cooked and slept!!

The next day we were supposed to get up at 4AM and climb to the Torres for the sunrise view. Well this didn´t happen. We slept in and headed up around 9 AM, another steep climb. It actually was the best because we were all alone up there and it was completly out of this world!!

We returned to camp, and headed out for a five hour trek. We´ll that´s what the map said atleast! Everything was going great, another perfectly sunny day, the breeze was a bit heavier but not bad and the tempurature was about 50 degrees. This time we were going mostly downhill with several shorter climbs - I like it!! Then, catastrophe strikes - we lost the trail!! So here we are at the bottom of some STEEP hills, no trail, surrounded by beautiful secenary and little time before the sun goes down. Sebastian, in typical French fashion begins to climb the hill sides looking for the trail. About an hour later, we land the trail!! But, looking at the map, we just wasted about two hours and moved foward on the trail about 500 meters.....sad day!! We head off on the trail, arriving at the next campsite about 9:30PM, exhausted after 10.5 hours on the trail we set up camp, eat and sleep. The wind that night was howling, I´m guessing 70 mph gusts. You could hear it coming down the mountains, it sounded like a stampede of horses. Then it would hit the tent and I thought we were going to be blown away!! After a bit though I was fast asleep.

Third day of five, right? It all started of very innocent, nice trail, a bit windy but not to bad and overcast. We were looking at a five hour trek according to the map. About an hour in, we came upon the shore of a beautiful blue lake, or so it seemed, the lake turned out to be the devil´s spawn!! All of a sudden the winds off the lake picked up and came at us with a vegenance!! 60+ mph wind gusts coming right at us driving lake water into us so hard it hurt! We were soaked and it wasn´t even raining!! Sarah and Sibylle were both blown off their feet. You could see the gusts coming because of the wave of water in front of it, that is when we all learned to stop, drop and hold on...absolutly the craziest weather I´ve ever hiked through!! This lasted over an hour and finally the trail turned inland.

There we found shelter from the wind, and things were good again, although the temperature was dropping. Oh yeah, and it began to RAIN!! We stopped for lunch at a shelter and headed back out, and it rained, and rained and rained some more! The wind picked up and at the peak of the storm it was a complete downpour in 70+ mph winds and about 35 degrees outside. DEATH MARCH!!! We finally made it to the refugio, total time - about 9 hours. Exhausted, cold, sore and wanting to die we sprang for a bed that night. At this point a meeting was gathered and we decided to abort mission, the last two days seemed like a horrible idea. A cold beer and the comfort of a hot shower and hostel seemed like it was neccesary.

So the last day was spent traveling back to Puerto Natales and enjoying the company of fellow travelers! We spent two more night in Puerto Natales and headed to El Calafate, where I sit now. The two nights were not entirely uneventful nights! On Saturday Juan, the owner of the hostel, propsed a parilla - grill out for you gringos. This meant, collect money from fellow guests, go to the meat market and buy a ton of lamb, and start cooking. The cooking went on for hours. We all stood around the parilla eating the meat as it came off the parilla. All the while drinking beers, which eventually ran out and in typical Chilian fashion it was Pisco time!! After a bit of Pisco it was Salsa time, once again until the sun came up!! It was a whole lotta fun, we were with several porters from the park that are friends with Juan and they were fantastic! Sebastian stole the show when he went outside the bar and returned with a dog, which he was dancing with on the dance floor!! It was a great release after 3 days of absolutly brutal hiking!!

As if we haven´t learned our lesson, we are about to embark on another trek around the Fitz Roy....IDIOTS!!