The water's high and work is rocking. Nick is kayaking everyday and I have a full time gig waiting tables and serving drinks at the riverside restaurant. It's been busy on Los Condores Ave with wayward travelers passing through-- Joe Numbers and Shannon both stayed a week, my brother was here for two, and there's an Irishman camped out back we can't get rid of. And we have another dog. Remolina Andina (Remo for short) showed up one morning with the Huevo and decided to stay.
My brother came down for the first two weeks of January. It was a two day trip from Homer, Alaska with a bit of bad water in Mexico and lost baggage in LA. After a weekend in town Tony and I took off for Patagonia on an overnight bus trip from Mendoza to Bariloche. We arrived without a plan, bought a map and supplies, and camped around nightfall well within Nahuel Huapi National Parque.
We spent the week backpacking a circuit of Refugios-- one room huts at backcountry camp sites that sell sandwiches and cerveza. Around day three we waited out a bout of cold rain and patagonian wind to attempt a secondary route of ridgelines and scrambling deemed impossible without good weather. The next morning was blue skies and sunshine. It was a full day of backpack bouldering, snowfield descents, and waterfall crossings. We traversed a pristine mountain valley and finished the day with a brutal climb to the shores of a high alpine lake. Johnny Walker was waiting for us up top.
We came out of the woods to more rain and full hostels in Bariloche so we headed north for Aconcagua. Note here-- if you want to spend a few days backpacking the tallest mountain in the Americas and aren´t Argentine be ready to shell out some cash. It was about $100 US dollars for a three day permit, $250 for a week and $1,000 for a shot at ascent. So it is expensive but damn purdy. The trail to basecamp is a straight shot into the mountain alongside a glacial creek and red rock walls.
After a few hours of hiking we arrived at Confluencia-- an international array of colored tents and mountaineers preparing for ascent. When I reached into my pack for our permit I realized my dry bag was gone. I felt my stomach drop- it was not only all of my cash and my passport, it was my brother's passport as well. I stashed my pack and ran back to the park entrance, searching the trail until dark. It was a horrible night- the unusually still mountain air amplified the sleepless silence between us. We broke camp early to retrace our steps and again found nothing.
So rather than backpacking the park Tony took a crosscountry bus trip to the U.S. Embassy in Buenos Aires while I returned to work. It was a three day binge of roadtripping and beer, and then Tony was back in Potre for a full moon rafting trip and all night river party. The next morning he headed back to darkness and cold and Alaska winter.
So rather than backpacking the park Tony took a crosscountry bus trip to the U.S. Embassy in Buenos Aires while I returned to work. It was a three day binge of roadtripping and beer, and then Tony was back in Potre for a full moon rafting trip and all night river party. The next morning he headed back to darkness and cold and Alaska winter.
As for me, I am still passport-free and broke and happy with summer. C'est la vie.
