Media Centre for Patagonia Exploration and Wildlife Research Expedition

JB Haab

Here's a cuento from Parque Naciónal Lanín:

The other day a small group of us went on a trek over the mountain to the next valley where we were scheduled to work the next day. The hike was well marked and straight forward... so, naturally, I decided to make it interesting by finding our own route. At lunch, I was telling the others that I usually end up bushwacking when I hike on my own and we were talking about how Emily, my girlfriend, always gets frustrated when I divert our progress from the trail out into the unknown. They laughed...

The scene was spectacular: we had just lunched atop a ridgeline capped with volcanic crags and descended into a high country, marsh covered valley that stretched to the next ridgeline in the distance. The panorama dropped out below us and expanded to either side of us. We sat there awe inspired feeling as if we were seeing all of Patagonia below us... This valley looked huge… HUGE! That is until we saw some sort of prehistoric gigantic four-legged creatures racing along the sodden valley floor.

These things were enormous! What the heck where they? We sat watching their rhythmic strides, hair flowing like a horse’s mane. Wait a minute… those are horses! Those are regular horses...

The mountains had played a trick on us. What seemed like an endless valley below us was actually only about three kilometers wide and just as long. Our perspectives were warped by the majestic beauty of being able to see the mountains of Mendoza directly behind us roughly 600 kilometers away. What minutes ago were some sort of colossal prehistoric creature, newly discovered by a group of sun burnt volunteers, were merely a herd of horses, Perhaps the most common animal, second only to sheep, that we find up here in the Patagonian highlands.

After we descended into the marshlands, an hour later, I persuaded them that the clearly marked trail (taking us up towards the peak which we were to be traversing around) was not the trail that we were looking for, and that we should continue through the valley and head towards the forested river below... "These aren't the droids you're looking for," said the jedi.

We found ourselves perched atop a slope that headed down into the lower valley to the southeast.

Hold on... We need to be headed down to the Southwest, not the Southeast - this cant be right. We decided to keep traversing high below the ridgeline and try to cross over a different pass to see if we could find a watershed that heads towards the right direction. Vamanos!... We trudged along and the others started to doubt what I was doing, remembering how they were laughing about Emily's frustrations with my bushwacking tendencies just hours before. However, with luck, we happened upon a lone gaucho with his cattle dogs headed towards his mountain camp. He confirmed that my plan was sound and that we would find the trail in the next valley over. He looked at us, however, and warned that going over the pass wasn’t easy, "…there are no trails and the way is clogged with bushy trees on a steep slope."

Mashugana!.... We heeded his warning, considered the option of returning to where we previously diverted from the trail but having confirmed that our trail was just over the near ridge, the gaucho tempted us to continue on and see how hard the pass would be to scale. All agreed that we should proceed with the caveat that we could return back to the original trail if the pass proves too much for our abilities. We set off with a final agreement that we not commit to anything risky that would close our option of turning back.

Now, I was in my element… Like Moses, we split the mountains. We were cautious due to the steep slope and definitely got a little tense, but as the slope declined and the bushes thinned out everyone was relieved that the apex of the ridge was close at hand. We reached a rocky pass littered with basalt boulders and in the steady torrent of winds ripping around us, we stood dumbfounded facing the most dramatic view that I’ve seen in quite a while: The valley dropped steeply below us to the southwest where we could see that it joined with the massive blue beauty of Lago Quillén. As if this wasn’t enough, in the distance, through the haze of the ephemerous clouds, perched atop the horizon, we could see the massive monolith of Volcán Lanín. Its bulk highlighted by the curtains of glaciers clinging to its perfect pyramid form amid the deep blue sky. Here, one of my companions turned to me and said thanks... he reminded me that had we taken the trail we would have been deep inside the valley below and unable to see the distinct beauty that lay below... Whew!!!! it worked out! I could imagine how Moses felt once he saw the burning bush!

Another two hours of cruising down the dusty trail through the majestic Pehuen forest (monkey puzzle trees) seeming like a prehistoric jaunt more than a finale to our hike and we were at camp, eating a curry that another volunteer had prepared for the group. Nine and a half hours of hiking, hanging out and getting lost in the beauty of the Andes... If only every day of my life could be like this one.

JB Haab