Now back to the usual fun and games.
I'm suffering through an appalling torture as I finish this post. Something that I think the Geneva Convention has long banned. I'm in a cafe that insists on playing the new Rod Stewart standards album...the entire album. You know, the one where he sings all the old standards. I shudder even to describe it. This guy is the John Daly of rock and roll. He has one of the greatest voices of all time, but has pissed it away on every passing trend just to push more product. Does he actually have a personal style, or does he just call his agent whenever its time to make the next record and ask for the latest new hit? This scarf-wearing, soccer team owning, blonde model chasing, skank daughter having little sprite (coming in at like 5' 3", this guy could play Sneezy at Euro-Disney if times got really rough) needs to hang 'em up and spend the rest of his life apologizing to Jeff Beck and Ronnie Lane (well, and us too) for squandering such an incredibly gifted voice. Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? Uh...next! Oh, and they just turned the TVs to that menace to society-a soccer game. Time to go.
Now back to our story. This day is about hiking in the Nahuel Huapi National Park. This is near the Bariloche ski area. I made it to a trail near Cerro Cathedral, and then out to the Llao Llao peninsula before calling it a day.
It started out as another day, another Argentinian morning carbo loading session. Triple the intake and this is what it must be like to eat like Michael Phelps. Its starts out raining this morning, but the clouds begin to break around 9 or so, and since the forecast is for rain tomorrow I decide today should be my hiking day.
At breakfast I met a mysterious American couple in their mid-50s, all suited up for skiing. The woman obviously was familiar with Argentina and spoke fluent Spanish. The man, who was partially visually impaired, didn’t speak a word of Spanish. The woman was helping him navigate around the breakfast table and explaining what surrounded him. They never exchanged any affections, but appeared to be close. They explained that she was from Hawaii, while he was from Denver. They met up here by previous arrangement, i.e. they don’t live in the same town. We engage in some chit chat over our respective plans, what we’ve seen in Argentina so far, etc. What is their story? I got the distinct impression that they have traveled together before. Didn’t see any wedding rings. I fixate on this for a couple of hours after breakfast, but of course its far better and more interesting to decide for myself what their deal is than to actually ask them. Mainly because the real story is probably incredibly pedestrian. I decide that they are both married, but not to each other, and they go to far-flung places like Bariloche, Argentina to carry on their affair, thereby reducing the risk of discovery. Each probably gives their respective spouse some business related reason why they have to travel. They can’t possibly be just friends. Maybe in retrospect I should have tried to see if they were in separate rooms. You see, the gift I have that most people don't is I understand you have to focus on important things, like making up lurid stories about complete strangers, rather than the mundane things, like what you have to do today.
After wasting time looking for bottled water and energy bars (which I have yet to find anywhere in Argentina; another sign of American world cultural dominance, plus, we don't like soccer), I head west in my rented car to the longer of the two trails the Park staffer recommended yesterday. This trail runs to the Frey shelter (this park has numerous "shelters" along various trails, offering food and water and a bunk for multi-day hikers), going between Cerro Cathedral and Lake Gutierrez. The park service map I’m using shows only one turnoff from the main road; naturally it fails to show several more, each of which looks like it might be "the turn." I impress myself byonly making one wrong turn, which I correct rather quickly. The road eventually becomes pitted gravel, running past a number of expensive looking homes with snow still covering their yards and houses. Not a good sign, although the roads are at least clear. The “guardparque” was at the road's end, and the trailhead just across the way.
The Park assistant billed the trail as a four hour roundtrip hike, which was basically how long it took . It runs between two lines of mountains, and is in the middle of a valley with several creeks running through the bottomland. Very shortly in, snow covers the trail, which means for the first time in my life, I’ll be largely trudging through snow…both ways…up to my knees in some places…getting into my boots and creating sloshing water as it melts. Very nice. Well, I guess if I'm going to be known for having cold feet, it might as well be true. As it turned out, the snow was relatively packed down over the first part of the trail, so it didn't affect hiking too much. Later on, it was still powder, which resulted in lots of snow up to the knees events.
Shortly after entering the trail proper I detoured to the “mirador,” which I correctly guess means a scenic viewpoint. The short hike to the mirador nonetheless covered the most pronounced inclined part of the hike. It wasn’t terribly difficult trudging up that mountain, although the snow was slippery in many places. The view at the mirador was really great, giving mountaintop panoramic views on three sides. As previously billed, however, the trick was coming back down the mountain. It was very difficult keeping my footing while going down such a steep incline on snow. I took at least four spills, and grabbed for tree branches to prevent several other falls. Happily, I don’t think I injured anything, just had a few scrapes on the back of my calves, for some odd reason.
After leaving the mirador area, I resumed the hike proper (“we’re just about to begin the robbery proper”). It wasn’t too terribly steep, so there weren’t tons of difficult grades (no switchbacks, thankfully), but there was snow covering the trail. The snow became deeper, and less packed, as the hike wore on. Adding to the difficulty is that the trail had begun to become a very muddy creek with snow runoff. So I had to choose trudging through the snow or the mud. The terrain probably would have been difficult without the snow. The trail appeared to run through a great deal of bushes, and probably was not that well marked given the number of snow covered bushes I seemed to step on. Yet, the trail offered incredibly close views of several peaks on either side. Check out the photos, which don’t do it justice. The good thing about the snow is that it allowed me to see footprints of previous hikers, thereby providing a better marker than the park likely provided. Also, I tried to walk in the footprints because it gave better footing.
Did I mention that three dogs followed me the whole way? An “autocamping” spot is located next to the guardparque, and these dogs were running around the autocamp when I got out of my car and started the hike. I think were two german shepherds and a mutt, and they ran out of the autocamp and started following me. Actually most of the time they were out in front of me, as if though they were Lassie trying to show Timmy the way back to safety after he got lost in the woods. So, the dogs were leading the way most of the time, as if they were guide dogs. A couple of times when I took a wrong turn, they didn’t go with me, thereby alerting me that I was headed the wrong way. It was kind of annoying at first having them along, but after awhile I realized that they would bark if they saw anything unusual, so that was a good thing. For example, they started barking pretty viciously at some wild horses that were watering at a creek about 30 yards off the main trail, which I would never have seen if not for the barking. I slowly walked off the trail through knee-deep fresh snow, and got fairly close to the horses. The photos weren’t that good because bushes obscured my view.
After that hike, I got back in my car and continued driving west to the Llao Peninsula. This is some land that juts out into Lake Nahuel Huapi, containing outstanding views and incredibly expensive real estate. The area contains the Llao Llao resort, the kind of place where Brangelina or Bill Gates might stay if they came to the area. In other words, away from the riff-raff, which explains why I didn’t get to take many photos of it. Just one really long-range shot, like a stalker might take. You have to go through a guard house to gain entrance; not the most welcoming place, I’d say. The Park staffer also recommended what he called a two hour hike, starting at the tram site just before the turn to Llao Llao, and winding in a loop on and along the entire peninsula. Unfortunately, it was on the main road in the area, which meant there were a lot of cars and buses going by. Also, it took two hours just to make it to the first “mirador”; the entire hike would easily have been closer to four or five hours. True, the mirador did offer an incredible view of the resort and peninsula, and the scenery, especially where the road crossed the river leading into the lake, but the whole point of a hike is to get away from the noise, exhaust, and traffic, not to get into it in person.
Driving around the countryside today, I saw more hitchhikers, mainly looking like they were trying to get out to the lifts. I guess no one’s seen There’s Something About Mary.
I came home just as darkness was falling (around 6:45). After peeling off my wet clothes and arranging with the hosteria to have all my dirty clothes washed before leaving for El Calafate, I headed to Juaja “parilla” at the desk clerk’s recommendation. A “parilla” is sort of like a steakhouse, only they cook their meats over an open pit, as previously discussed. I had “bife de chorizo,” or sirloin steak, and grilled vegetables. By the way, it’s a real challenge to find a place that even serves vegetables. Usually you get your main course, along with potatoes that could be served in any variety of ways, a big bread basket, and mineral water (or wine). Not big on produce here. And, one of the vegetables in the ¨grilled vegetables¨serving was a potato. Also, they included pumpkin. I’ve learned that the Argentinans eat a good bit of pumpkin, which tasted sort of bland. Turns out it’s a little different when its not in a pie at Thanksgiving with whipped cream on top of it. The steak was pretty good-kind of so-so actually. I’ve had better steaks I bought from Central Market and grilled myself. Too much fat in this one, I’d say, although I’ve been told that’s how Argentinians (or is it Argentines?) eat their beef.
Tomorrow-driving to San Martin de los Andes
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