Que tal amigo's?

A couple of days ago I celebrated my 200th day on the road in South America! For a moment I looked back at my first day in Panama City when I arrived as a rookie, not knowing what this adventure will bring me and all the amazing people I would meet and everything that happened since.

My latest adventures started on a pretty island in Northern Patagonia in Chile called Chiloe. Economy is basically all about salmon and wood. Sadly the region was struck by a salmon disease and one factory out of two was shut down and unemployment augmented big time. It is a really poor looking region, but they have a lot of nice things to offer nature wise. I hitchhiked around the island and went spotting some Magellan penguins and other wildlife. Sadly we were off-season so instead of 4000 we only saw 6...

Apart from enjoying nature I also got the opportunity to get a two hour free city tour in a police bus. Sadly the windows are covered with bars, so the view was not amazing. I was unaware off the Chilean law about zero tolerance about alcohol consumption in public. I just went to the night shop buying a beer and got my ass jailed in no-time. They did not even give me a second to play the dumb and unaware gringo-card. In the end they were kind enough to drop me in front of my hostel, so eventually it was a fun experience!

The next day I went to the southernmost point of Chiloe (km 0 of the Pan-Americana) to look for a boat that was willing to take me south through the Chilean fjords to Puerto Chacabuco. I went looking for a bar in the port to talk to some sailors who could help me out. I followed a path formed by drunken men lying in the most awkward positions on the sidewalk. (it was Semana Santa, so everyone had a week of holiday and enjoyed ‘the blood of Jesus' aka liters of wine!) After a while I found myself in front of a dark pub and swung open the door to be instantly overwhelmed by a cloud of smoke and a horrible smell of fish, sweat and alcohol. This seemed the perfect place to find a man that could help me out to get off this island! I walked to the bar with my backpack and immediately became the attraction in the pub! Drunken men started hanging over my shoulders, trying to make up sentences that made no sense. So I asked the bartender who of all these drunken men could help me out. The back of the pub was filled with lifeless bodies laying on tables, the floor or blocking the toilet door. It was clear that I arrived late at the party of the century! At midnight eventually a boat could take me to my wished destination in two days.

The Chilean fjords are really pretty, but the region is one of the wettest there is, so there was not a lot of sun to enjoy the scenery and see the many salmon farms.

The reason why I migrated south again was to go find my Belgian friend, Vincent, again in Coyhaique where we planned to start to hitchhike the famous Carretera Austral together. This is one of the many famous roads in the world like Route 66 (USA), Ruta 40 (Argentina), Pan-Americana (trans-American), the E40 kust-Brussel (Belgium), ...

After finding each other eventually, we put up our thumbs and started dancing, juggling, begging, ... for rides! It was still Semana Santa, so a lot of people go visit their family, but they always go with full cars, which didn't make it any easier. The first day we got stuck in a rainy port for the night, but the second day we had the best luck and could visit a national park and go to our planned destination! There we decided to go kayaking through the fjords and enjoy the natural heat of some hot-springs. It was impossible to get out of town that afternoon, because there was a group of eight Israelis also hitchhiking. Eventually we found a bus late at night that could bring us 25km north. There we slept in a shed/barn with the Israelis and in the morning it was a race to be the first along the road to start hitchhiking! Three Australians joined in and a Brazilian which made us 14 people that wanted to get out of that little, lost town along the Carretera. No luck for any of us that day; only three fully loaded cars left town that day! After another night in a barn we all got lucky and made it to Futaleufú, a little town on the border with Argentina which is world-famous for its river: Rio Futaleufú that has level 5+ rapids! We could not be there without going down this madness, so the next day we found ourselves in a raft, paddling down the white-water river! It was just one big crazy river! It swung us from left to right and in the air again! At the last class 5 rapid we just could not keep the boat straight anymore and we where just thrown off the boat into the whirling streams that sucked me down for a little too long. I came back to surface exhausted from trying to swim against the down-streams and from then on, again I had to struggle for about a minute or two to keep my head above the massive waves and dodge oncoming rocks. Eventually we all survived the flip which does not speak for itself, because it happens that guides or rafters die in such events. It is especially hard to keep breathing and not getting knocked out on a rock in a class 5 rapid.

After having slept in an awesome mansion/under-construction-lodge of the town's banker which was a friend of a friend of two Belgian girls we met earlier on the Carretera, we waxed our thumbs again and stood along the road to hitchhike to Argentina! After a couple of rides, among one was in a (party?) truck, we made it to El Bolson where we spent a day hiking up to a beautiful Cajón Azul (Blue canyon).

Being so close to San Carlos de Bariloche, a place I've been before, and not going there to eat the famous bife de lomo they serve, was impossible! After the four of us downed two kilograms of the world's finest meat we went celebrating my 200th-day-on-the-road birthday and the birthday of the hostel receptionist. (She turned 25 the same day)

In Bariloche the two Belgian girls left us for Santiago and we went to San Martin de los Andes where I wanted to summit the Volcán Lanín (3,776m) to celebrate my 100 last days in South America! Because I had a weather-deadline and I could only get to the base of the mountain by hitchhiking, there was a lot of uncertainty that I would make it to the top. I also needed to get permission from the park ranger for my solo-ascent up the volcano. Normally the mountain is done in two days. On day one you hike up to base-camp or second camp if you're fit. And around 4am the second day you hike up to the summit. I, on the other hand only arrived at the base of the mountain after a long day of hitchhiking at 6pm. You can't start hiking anymore after 2pm, so basically I already knew I had to do it in one day, if I wanted to summit. At 8.30pm I got a green light from the park ranger after a long interrogation and material check. I tried to sleep for a couple of hours, but the road-workers that stayed there, had a party that night, so I ended up sleeping two hours before I had to leave. At midnight I dressed up, took my 8kg backpack filled with food, 5 liters of liquid, a sleeping bag and my gear and started walking towards the summit. I knew I had to walk at a high pace, because the hike normally takes 12 hours from bottom to top and you have to summit before 12pm! After an hour I already lost the path in the dark, the moon was not helping out that night, so I could not see any further than my torch would shine.

Based on my orientation at 5am I was in the middle of an ice field surrounded by deep crevasses. To not take any risks, I decided to rest in my sleeping bag on the glacier and wait for the sun to rise. Two hours later I could see where I had to be and how I could get there the easiest way. Once back on the right path, I realized I was actually 400m higher than expected, which gave me hope again to make it in time for the summit! I started walking at a higher pace and a couple of 100 meters before the summit I walked by three Argentineans with their guide, so I would have the summit for myself for a while and I can assure you, it was breathtaking! The silence, the view of Patagonia emerging in front of you (I ascended through the north-face) and the idea that no-one south of you is standing higher! (There is no mountain higher south of Lanín on the American continent) It made me emotional for a second and I was proud that I summited my first mountain alone!

Afterwards the park ranger was amazed that I summited in nine hours from bottom to top. I also got epic respect from the workers that kept me awake the night before. I finally made my name in mountaineering world!

That night I met Vincent again in San Martin de los Andes where we decided to leave at 6am the next day to Chile! He had been hiking the last days in the beautiful national park Lanín between the famous seven lakes.

I recently read in the news that Machu Pichu is open again, so I am slowly making my way up north now to start a legendary duo-hike to this sacred city! The only problem is that I am looking for the second part of this duo! If anyone is bored back home, feel free to take a plane (I assume the cloud will be gone from the European airspace any day soon) and come hike with me!! Adventure and unforgettable moments are free and totally included!

Hasta pronto gringo's,
G. on the road!