Santiago, Round 2

(Complete Picture Set)

After soaking in the ambiance of Valpo and the beach sun in Viña, the next stop was accross the Andes in Mendoza, Argentina. Mendoza via Santiago is a

(Damien and Danielle in Cerro Santa Lucia)

real popular destination/route apparently, so after finding out on a Tuesday I would need to wait until Saturday to head back into Argentina, I decided I would head back to my beloved hostel in Santiago, La Casa Roja. Besides having unmatched facilities, I knew Danielle would be there, and friendly face is always a welcome thing while traveling. Or anywhere for that matter. So back to Santiago I went. I met up with Danielle and she introduced me to some Aussie friends she had. We ended up wandering around the city some more, in the

(Climbing the steps to the lookout tower)

downtown area and the central market, and jumping into the pool many times more. We spent one long day wine tasting...that sounds like we drank a lot of wine. Actually, it was a long metro ride before a long address hunt before finding our winery, which was in the middle of industrial Santiago. So there was no grapes, no tranquil countryside, no green vines growing in perfect rows. Just lots of truck drivers cat calling from delivery trucks as we walked around looking for the winery (I was wearing shorts, so I think it nothing to do with my two female companions but with me showing some leg). All in all, it was a good few days leisure spent before the bus trip to Mendoza.

(Cooking up a storm in the gigantic kitchen)

(Wine tasting - Marja, Danielle, and stunningly handsome american)

(Complete Picture Set)

Valparaiso and Viña del Mar

(Complete Valpo Picture Set)
(Complete Viña Picture Set - Some fotos courtesy of Danielle)

Goodbye Santiago, hello coast. It was a sentimental day to be staring out across the Pacific ocean again. More or less it looks exactly like the Atlantic, a bit more than the less, but knowing it was the pacific brought back a bunch of fond memories of time spent on the California coast.

(Woman trying her best to sell us a bed for the night. Didn't work out)

Leaving behind Santiago in all it's smoggy glory, but also the marvelous hostel with the people and pool that made my day more than a few times, Danielle and I made our way to the coast to visit the UNESCO World Heritage site of Valparaiso and resort town Viña del Mar. At the time, Danielle and I were only minor aquaintances, and she had asked to come along with me when she found I was leaving to Valpo. I am glad she did, as she became a good

(Danielle and I on our quirky port tour)

friend and awesome travel buddy, and we had many good times and laughs together. We each felt a bit of Casa Roja withdrawal, leaving behind the giant house, spacious lounging areas, and the pool. Unfortunately for Danielle, that was the first hostel she had ever stayed in. Everything else just isn't gonna measure up.

Valparaiso, besides having a hard to pronounce name, is an old port city in a protected bay that extends up into the surrounding hills. It has seen better days, but still has a unique charm. One can see the beauty and prosperity it once held, as some of it still manages to shine through the

(Bright Valpo buildings)

wornout buildings that crowd the cracked sidewalks and worn out cobbled streets. It isn't made well for random exploration; if you go on one of the uphill streets, either plan on walking up the whole way to finally find a cross street or just turn around. But wander we did, up a few hills and into and out of beautiful and shady parts of the city. And that is shady as in questionable, not like under a tree. Danielle and I decided to take a boat tour through the port, and after a poor choice by me, jumped on board a boat of questionable quality and chalk full of Chilean tourists. After putting on lifejackets I would probably have felt safer out of than in, and then taking one of those

(Maybe not safe from drowing, but definitely cute)

stupid touristy photos of the boat that they then try to sell you for twice the price of the tour itself, the engine started and the "tour" began. Shouting over the rumble of the boat engine, our "guide" gave us the rundown on the ships in the harbor, like where they were from, what they carried, and their names. He also told us about a nice building full of restraunts where we could have lunch. I tried to do a bit of translation, but with the engine noise, the shouting guide, and subject matter, I think I did a pretty bad job. But it isn't like Danielle missed anything though. At first this quirky little boat tour with a shouting guide and terrible subject matter was entertaining and worthy of a few laughs, but by the end, we were ready to jump ship and swim to shore. Thank goodness it only cost $2. We ate dinner at a restraunt with a great view and mediocre, overpriced food. If only we had read the guidebook beforehand, we would

(Ship being repaired in port)

have known it was a tourist trap. Oh well, we did have the view. In the end, Valpo was worthy of the visit, but at the same time, I am glad I only was there for a short visit.

The next morning we took a metro line to Viña del Mar, about a 15 minute ride north on the coast. The section above ground was quite pretty, and the section below ground looked about like every underground metro ride you will ever take. Viña is totally different than Valpo, full of sandy beaches, modern buildings and design, and definitely a resort town. It was pretty to walk through though and

(Cool foto by Danielle)

had some interesting places to visit and see. The coast with some beach was also nice to see and walk on, something Valpo lacked. For lunch we went to this overpriced beachside cafe that sold small, bland sandwiches for $4-6, but then gave you a mountain of gellato for $3. I was quite impressed after ordering my three flavors when the guy handed my overflowing bowl with a cone stuck in the side. It was a bit interesting to eat as the heat outside made it a dripping mess. But I guess that is half the fun of eating icecream. Afterward Danielle went back to Santiago and our beloved Casa Roja, and I spent the night in Valpo.

(Viña del Mar beach)

Back in the hostel I met some of the new people who had come in, and ended up cooking dinner with one of them. Pasta with sauce. For those of you who have traveled before, you know what a rare, fine delicacy that is. No one ever eats pasta. Ever. The stove was actually really nice with this interesting glass surface that would fold down flat over the burners or could be propped up so it was like any other stove. Now before I continue, who has ever seen a stove like this before? If you said yes, you are weird and will probably laugh at our soon to be revealed stupidity

(Seriously large pile of gelato)

more than the rest. Next question, how many people have seen glass-top stoves before? Yeah, me too. Why you would put a folding glass top on was a bit perplexing to my friend and I, but hey, maybe it distributed the heat better. We figured no one would have put it on if it wasn't for cooking with. So we lit the burner, put down the glass, and started cooking. I should note too that when we arrived, the glass top was down, like it was supposed to be there to cook with. That is definitely not why it was there. How do I know? Because after cooking for a few minutes and not liking the results with the glass down, we decided to go back to the traditional method of just the bare metal. Seconds later the large glass plated shattered into a thousands peaces and spilled

(Castle by the sea)

dramatically down onto the stove and countertop. Luckily, we had taken all the open pans off the stovetop and only covered boiling pasta was left on, so we didn't have to throw out the food to prevent ourselves from swallowing glass shards. So, just so everybody knows, if you find a foldable glass stove top on the next stove you cook on, don't put it down while cooking. It is only for extra counter space and tricking travelers into breaking things. I don't know what the owner thought. I left before he found out, and I haven't heard back from my friend. I sure he was just thrilled though. Who wouldn't be?

Santiago, Chile

(More Pictures)

Oh, how interesting my visit to Santiago was. Initially I planned to be there a matter of days. Two to three perhaps, but I still found myself there after a week and a half. Initially frustrating, the extended stay was actually a blessing, and I ended up meeting some great people and having a great time.

The reason for the extended stay had to do with my passport. Running out of space for entry and exit stamps, I found out you can have pages directly added to your passport at an American embassy. Santiago was the closest one, but I arrived on Saturday, and had to wait for the embassy to open on Monday. No worries. I randomly chose an amazing hostel; a giant red house in a chill neighborhood a few blocks from downtown. La Casa Roja came with a TV room, 3 sort of living rooms, 2 courtyards, a big open space out back, complete with a bar-patio area, pool, grass area, ping pong table, and cricket batting cage (the owner is Australian). You can spend the whole day there and have a great time. I met some awesome people, some odd balls, and some people that were just downright strange. I won't really go into all the stories, partly because some are uninteresting, some long, and others just inappropriate. Anyway, with a couple days to see the city, I figured I could get my passport taken care of Monday and be on my way.

(Hostel Dog)

(Night on the Patio. I show this one for Dave, our shirtless friend holding up the peace sign with the beard. Unfortunately, you can't make out the long braids coming off of his chin. He has tried drugs on nearly every continent he has traveled to. What a dude. )

(Night lights of the ping pong table. One night, some people actually stayed up all night playing. Had more to with the beer than the ping pong, but a feat nonetheless.)

(Patio)

(Pooooooooooool)

(Some Cricket mate?)

(Bar and Patio)

(Grass area next to bar patio and pool)





(So yeah, pretty wicked hostel, right?)

I missed the embassy hours for US citizens on Monday (only 8:30 to 11:00 in the morning for some reason), so had to come back Tuesday. I soon found out that the incredibly complex procedure of taping pages into the passport takes an impressive 4 days, which meant I couldn't pick up my passport until Monday of the following week. Having seen and done all I wanted to in the city over the weekend, this was unwelcome news. It was at least comforting to know that American beauracracy is just as efficient here as it is back home.

As it turned out though, I was glad I ended up staying a while longer. I met some great people and had some of the best fun I have had yet on the trip. I met a guy named Nick from England, an Aussie named Sean, and an American named Andrea. It is amazing what can start with just a simple hello in your dorm room or as someone passes you in the hall. We did quite a bit together and had some great fun and a lot of laughs. I hadn't gotten so attached to anybody as with this group, and being the last one to leave was hard. It was the first time I have actually missed people I have been with. Usually you just have a good time and move on, but it would have been nice to stay with this group a bit longer. We played all over Santiago, dancing up a storm in some interesting clubs, lounging by the pool, wandering aimelessly all over the city, sharing our travel stories as we walked city blocks, and continually making each other laugh by being goofy or sharing past experiences. That is a great thing about traveling. Sometimes your plans don't work out, you get stuck somewhere, etc., but then some how, some way, you find yourself having the most fun you have had yet in a most unexpected and unplanned way. I will miss my Casa Roja friends dearly. Hopefully our paths will cross again sometime, someplace, but until then, we each will be burning our own trails with new friends in new places.

(As of yet, I haven't received pictures from anyone, so hopefully those will come soon! They unfortunately include all the photos of people, proof that I didn't just have imaginary friends in Santiago...)

Lonquimay Circuit

(Complete Picture Set)


Yah, so one last trek with my gear on my own before sending the tent on home. The old girl has been good to me. I actually think I started getting so used to sleeping on my 5 mm foam pad, in that I "preferred" it to a normal soft bed. I started noticing these last few treks that the first few nights back it was hard to fall asleep. Sort of weird, if you ask me.

Anyway, the base "town" for the trek was this super chill, super small village called Malalcahuello (say it ten times fast, I dare you). I was told to ask for a man known as Tio Pepe, who could give me the best information on the mountains in the area. Wanting to climb a few more volcanoes, I "searched" for the man by asking one of the other 24 people living in the town if they might happen, possibly, to know a man there going by Tio Pepe. Amazingly, I only had to ask one person. It turned out he actually met another guy from Tahoe back in the '70's by the name of Douglas Wreath. Some of you might know the name (sorry if I spelled it wrong), but he has since passed away, climbing somewhere in Africa apparently. Tio Pepe and his wife were very hospitable, and offered me dinner on top of advice. I love small towns.

I started the trek with a night in a Cabin Tio Pepe owned higher up in the mountains. From there I set off, doing some long, hot days. Nothing but volcanic rock and ash for a trail, and sometimes no water whatsoever for upt to 16 miles. I ran accross a brilliant sign at one point, right at about mile 11, which had the enticing picture of a water faucet dripping with water on the wood pole sticking in the ground. Problem was, there was no faucet, hose, creek, stream, pond, or puddle nearby. I left a bit perplexed, probably muttering something about CONAF (trail administration) under my breath. Not my idea of a good joke.

Days two and three went through the wetter parts of the watershed, and provided some spectacular views of lava fields, volcanoes near and far, beautiful granite mountains, and tree covered hills. I got some good campsites with some great views, one even with a little swimming hole in a river. The last day (three) I was to walk out for a long while...20 miles maybe, but luckily, not long after the trees had disappeared and I was well into the baking hot lava field again, a truck passed by and offered a ride. My pack was off and I was in the back of the truck in record time.

Raftage

Ok, you guys will have to check out the full photo set here, because I am not going to post them all, but they are some good fun. They sort of run in a story mode with comments, so check them out for a photo story version of below.

And I never thought I would ever say this, but I may have found a place that rivals Tahoe. No seriously, as hard as that is to believe. I think it comes up short, but man does this place rock! I have been in the township of Pucon and around in the mountains for about two weeks now, and it has been sweeeeeeeet. Climbing volcanoes, trekking around them, chilling on the lake's beach, mountain biking have been my entertainment, and it is all so close together. Now I have one more to add to the list: white water rafting. Oh yeah baby, life is good.

So the Upper Trancura River is rated class IV, with a two IV's and a IV+ being the main attractions. The bus trip was a quick 15 minutes up the road, and after the typical entertaining orientation about how not to die while river rafting, we pushed up for practice on the water.

We received the usual commands of "forward," "back," "left/right back," "stop," "jump left/rigt (usually highside in the States)," etc. The new kicker was the "get down" command for when you go over waterfalls and things of that nature. Yeah, there were some wide eyes on the raft, hehehe, especially from the 4 Ausies who had never been before. Personally, having been on a class IV river before, and having fallen into the water mid-rapid and surviving, I was all smiles. Ok, ok, I was a little wide-eyed too, but totally amped on the adventure.

Our trip down was interspersed with the smaller rapids, but the big ones were Hellstar, El Feo (The Ugly), and Smiley. We also got to jump off about a 15 foot cliff back into the water after having to walk around an enormous class VI rapid, which was also sweet. It was a fun day with a good group, and we were able to run some more difficult lines I think because of it, and even the swimming breaks turned into pushing wars and water fights. Back in town I chilled out on the beach, now wanting to add river kayaking onto my list of sports to learn.

Villarica Traverse

(Complete Pictures - even more than what is here!)

This trek was inTENSE! It was my first "demanding" rating for a trek, and the 6 days of trekking the rugged landscape around Volcan Villarica lived up to that rating. Throw an unusually angry climate into the mix, and it made it all the more interesting. I think this trek would have had some fo the most amazing scenery I have seen yet, but with the cloudy, rainy days, I missed out on what my book described as spectacular views.

(View to Lago Villarica)

When I arrived in Pucon CONAF was their typical uninformative selves, telling me that the trail was closed due to snow and trail repairs. So I climbed the volcano, went bike riding, and talked to some locals, who told me that CONAF office staff never walk the trails and know nothing, and that the trail should be open. So I went back 3 days later (arrived Friday, so I had to wait until Monday to talk to them again) to pressure them into giving me permission, but another guy was in the office and told me the trail was open. Amazing what can change over the weekend. So I got prepared to

(snow covered trail)

go, and then the weather decided to misbehave. A couple days of rain, so I waited to go. It didn't really clear up but it was supposed to get better according to the forecast I looked at. I paid for transportation up there, a whopping $30, but when I got to the ranger station to register the visibility was terrible, the forecast had changed to three more days of rain from what the rangers had looked at, and I still had around a 600 foot change in elevation before starting the trek, so I decided to throw in the towel and wait a bit longer. I waited, got a new weather report, and went back again (another $30!). Another

(Morning brings frozen tent, but clear skies)

ranger told me the trek was closed (but I now know better than to believe them), so I informed him, politely, that the trail he was in charge of was indeed open, and I was going to go walk on it. So he let me through after I paid and registered, and I continued up to the trailhead. Then came a new twist. Snow. Because of the permanent snow and glaciar on the volcano, the wind comes up mountain, picks up moisture, freezes, gets redirected down mountain, and thus results in snow. I sat in the car with my driver, who owned the company I summited the volcano with, staring out the window trying to decide what to do. I had spent 60 dollars just to get to the stinking trek, and I hadn't even started yet, and I was pretty sure the snow would stop in the afternoon and the weather clear the next day. So I took off, armed against the weather with my will and some gators the owner let me borrow for the trip. It was cold.

(L-Ohhh, preeettttyyy; R-Volcan Villarica)

I walked for about an hour and a half through thick clouds and snow, and it was snowing enough that it started to bury the trail. I finally reached a little patch of trees and decided to camp and wait out the storm, hoping it would clear by the next day. If not, I was only an hour and a half in, so I could walk out if need be. The night was cold, but with a dry tent (inside) and all my clothes on in my sleeping bag, I actually wasn't too cold. I woke up to a frozen tent though, covered in ice on the outside, and although chilly, a beautiful and clear day. The trek was saved.



So I took off on day two with a mission, wanting to combine it with what I didn't do day one, meaning I had a long day ahead of me. I took off at 8:00 and didn't arrive to camp until 6:30, with maybe an hour and a half worth of breaks, so 9 hours of hiking, and about 14.5 miles. It was a tiring day, but easy compared to what lay next. Less distance (9.5 miles) but with some steep trail, day three took me almost as long as day two, and after walking these two days consecutively, I was hurting! I got to camp, I got everything ready, ate dinner, and went straight to bed. The day wasn't that impressive as far as views go due to the high amount of clouds, but I was in some pretty forest and could see a little ways across some beautiful landscape. Just most of the high peaks and volcanoes were hidden.

(Above-Me and Volcan Lanin (GIANT!); L - Volcan Temuco (left) and Volcan Lanin, Below-Close up of Volcan Lanin)

I slept soundly that night, and woke up to the pitter patter of rain on my tent. I hate that sound in the morning. The thing I like least while trekking is having to pack up in the rain, with a wet tent, wet gear, and no garuntee you will be able to dry them later. Hiking in the rain isn't so bad if it isn't too cold, because you will warm up with the activity of walking with your pack. I didn't want to wait the weather out, pretty sure it wouldn't stop raining, and needing to keep moving since I had six days of solid hiking to do. So I packed up, took off, and got wet.

I probably should have stayed in the tent. I went over some high passes, and visibility was extremely sketchy. The trail disappeared naturally on the ground due to loose pumice and sand as well as snow fields. On a clear day, the trail has markers to keep you on track, but you need to be able to see them from afar. Thick clouds don't really allow for that. So I found myself having to stop and wait for a break in the

(L-Soaring Condor; Below-Laguna Blanca Campsite. Not shown, lots and lots of WIND!)

cloud, knowing where the trail was behind me but having no idea where it headed off too in the distance. In the sand at least you could sometimes find a shoe print here and there or some sort of mark indicating someone had been there, but the snow fields are usually long and with almost know trace of anyone walking on them in the past. I was lucky to get those breaks in the clouds, and in retrospect, probably shouldn't have attempted the pass that day in those conditions. But I arrived, so all is good, right? (My Mom and Dad are shaking there heads right now) I camped at a stark but beautiful lake, Laguna Blanca, which is surrounded by desolate hills of weathered lava rock. The wind and rain continued for the rest of the afternoon, but finally the rain stopped in the evening, a huge blessing, as I was able to get some stuff dry. The topography of the area though made it hard to find protected camp sites, so the rattling of the tent in the wind all night was a bit trying on the nerves, but survivable.

(L-The sun is out...quick, take a picture!; R-Smoking Volcan Villarica)

Day five brought clear, sunny skies, and great views, although the volcanoes still hid behind some clouds. I saw some cool valleys, marshy shelfs with cascading waterfalls, and had a beautiful lake all to myself to swim in and camp by. It was also the shortest day of the trek, minus day one due to weather complications, and I was definitely in some need of some rest.

(Top-Day 5, shot of shelf and Mtns; Bottom-On the shelf)

Day six was an uneventful but pretty walk out in the canyons and woods, with no real vistas. I arrived in a place called Puesco, which has a few unused buildings, a border control office, and a CONAF ranger station. I tried to hitch a ride back to Pucon, maybe 60 some odd kilometers away (I don't know it in miles but too far to walk, we'll put it that way), as the bus wouldn't come until the next morning. With little traffic and unwilling drivers, I finally got bored and walked 2 km down to a campground next to a rushing river with a restaraunt and cold coca-cola. The cold river, hot food, and cold coke

(Hanging out by the river)

made my day. It was also nice to see some people, who I hadn't seen since I started the trek. I took the bus back to Pucon the next day to take a long hot shower, relax by the lake, and sleep in a warm comfy bed that night. Although the views were obscured often and the weather made the already challenging trek harder, it was an amazing trip in beautiful country. All the clouds did were make it just short of spectacular, and to know I survived the trek with the weather I did almost added to my sense of accomplishment, like

(Cool mountain range, called "The Comb")

someone finishing a marathon even if they didn't place first. As I sipped a beer with the owner of the company who drove me up the first day, I told him I was headed up north next to do another 6 day trek. He laughed and said that is the spirit of montanistas, that we go out into the mountains and are freezing, and hungry, and tired, and ache, but when we get back to civilization in the shelter of our warm, comfortable homes, all we can think about is getting back out into the mountains. I can't agree more.



















1 - Collapsable Home...................On loan from Dad
2 - 5mm foam bead......................$5
3 - Aged beachwood arm chair..........Free

Having a view better then any plasma/HD TV can produce, all to yourself? Priceless.

Bud Davis

Being far from home has perhaps made me better appreciate my home, my community, and where I grew up. The Tahoe community has always been unique in its culture, and I am proud to be a product of this upbringing, one that all graduates from the north and west shores of Tahoe share. The essence of this community comes from its members, who love the mountain life, its people, and its kids. So many of you have poured into our lives like parents although we weren't your kids, and we have you to thank alongside our own parents for giving us such a special place to grow up. We recently lost a key member of this community after his long battle with cancer. I did not know Bud Davis that well, but knew him enough to see him offer his time on the soccer field, the ski slopes, the restraunt dining room (and kitchen, and bar, and management, and...), the concert halls, long bus trips, the jazz band tours, and the lives of his family and Tahoe community as I grew up, and I know this only captures a snapshot of his life, especially to those that are closer to him and know him better. We all carry a piece of him with us now as products of that Tahoe community he helped shape, and I would like to pay tribute to his commitment and love over the years to that community. May we all be such members in the lives of others and our own communities, no matter where we end up. So here is a small tribute to the life, memory, and legacy of Bud Davis.

Sierra Sun newspaper article