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Torres del Paine

Patagonia isn't just an area to go for a pleasant stroll. It's a land of epic weather. Winds strong enough to lift a 100 kilo dude right off his feet. Rain that could soak a seal to the core. And a razor thin ozone layer that welcomes the burning sun. The resulting land and mountain scape is a strange beauty. 

Our preparations began long before we arrived. Collecting provisions in Mendoza we knew would be impossible to find in the tiny launch town of Puerto Natales. Included was about 60 dollars worth of vacuum sealed sausage, the only supply that was deemed unfit to cross the Chilean border. We quickly guzzled a salami each to the apparent delight of the line up in front of border security. The outcome was a couple of queasy bellies on a bumpy bus. Small victories.

DAY ONE: Jeff had one heavy pack.

DAY TWO: Things are getting pretty.












DAY THREE: Baby river ducks ­– highlight of the day.








DAY FOUR: A long day was joyously broken up, or made even longer, with an hour of fast sledding by a glacier.

 

DAY FIVE: Bug bite right in the baby blues.

DAY SIX: Just some boring avalanches and stuff.











 

 

DAY SEVEN: The big winds came.








DAY EIGHT: 4am hike to the towers.

The Deepest Canyon in the World

Twice the drop of the Grand Canyon, Canyon del Colca, registers as the deepest canyon in the world (okay, the canyon 6 hours away was confirmed to be a 130 m deeper, but it didn't have us).

We found geysers, hot springs, cold springs, a brutally scorching sun, fell in some cactus, got really close to massive condors, and found superb company.

Tip: if you go, base your trek out of Pachamama in Cabanaconde

10 Beautiful Days

The HuayHuash Cordillera Circuit is reported to be the best trek in Peru, some even say, in South America. And with the entire 10 days above 4000m, a demanding one. Armed with a cute Guia, an ever smiling cook, and a pint-sized donkey driver, we set off.

(While not necessarily advisable, it's impossible not to compare epic treks. And the questioned begged, how would this compare to the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal?)

DAY ONE:

 

 

DAY TWO: 4750m Pass
Freezing cold pee in the middle of the night = Stargazing Extraordinaire.

 

 

 

 

 

DAY THREE: 4650m Pass
Avalanche! Seriously cool to see and hear.


 

 

 

 

 

 

DAY FOUR: 4800m Pass
The fastest 4 year old in the mountains was a pro at scamming chocolate from hikers atop the pass. And it showed.

DAY FIVE: 4750m Portachuelo de Huayhuash Pass
Hot Springs, Baby.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DAY SIX: 5000m Punta Cuyoc Pass
Rain, sleet, hail, and snow.

 

 

 

 

DAY SEVEN: 5020m Santa Rosa Pass
Celebrating on the sublime pass with our new friends from Spain — Luis and Rosa. It was a loooong day.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DAY EIGHT: 4800m Punta Tapuish Pass
Our trusted four-legged guide, Sambo, goes missing. Hope you find him, Camillo.

 

 

 

DAY NINE: 4750m Yuacha Pass
Beer!

 

 

 

 

DAY TEN: 4300m
Conclusions. These might be the second highest mountains in the world, and even though our average daily-altitude was higher here, the sheer size of the Himalayas puts it in a different category. That is undeniable. The cultural experience of the Annapurna Circuit also trumps the HuayHuash. But when it comes to diversity of landscapes, HuayHuash is orgasmically nimble, dazzling us over each pass and down each valley. As for which is more beautiful, we'll let you be the judge.
 

The Quilotoa Loop

Shortly after checking into Pasado de Tigua, an organic farm turned fancy guesthouse (after Ecuador switched to the US dollar and their milk business hit the skids) we wandered up the hill to search for the mysterious High School Band music booming from a collection of small indigenous houses. Turns out it was day two, in a four-day wedding celebration. We were quickly forced to dance and plied with their local hooch. At any given point there could be five glowing men, each with their own bottle and a shot glass clamouring to give us a mouthful of gritty fire. SSSSSaaaahhh. It was a fun way to warm up for an absolutely gourmet, organic meal back at the farmhouse that evening.



Fresh cheeses, milk and homemade coconut yogurt powered us through the first leg of our Trek. The scenery far more impressive than expected. We stopped to chat, look at some tradition deerskin art and enjoyed more local tunes. Well on our way, we met a tipsy fellow who convinced us to take a path that differed from our hand drawn map. After an hour of gorgeous views, it looked like we might have to backtrack. But that's not really our style, so we consulted a 200 year old man that pointed down the gorge. We took that as affirmation there actually was a way up the other side, even though our eyes swore every path ended in a sheer face. Plenty of razor grass kept us company as we worked our way down the gorge and scrambled along the bank looking for a place to cross the river. On the other side, we began exploring a path that held promise — or at least an ample dose of wishful thinking. So we pushed forward despite the absence of people to ask or any sign of footprints. Steep, skinny and crumbly was wearing us out when we got so close we could taste our victory and began to bask in our adventurous spirit. But our hopes were drained. Our way ended with an impossible 50 meter cliff between us and the top. As we began our retreat and mentally prepared for spending the night in a tiny abandoned hut at the bottom of the gorge, a new path taunted our legs and lungs. It was a slope of pure exhaustion that dashed hopes once again with a sheer rock face (#%&*)!!! However, this time, a few extra cliff hugging steps revealed a hidden path on the backside of the wall. Rolling over the top lip, we savoured the absolute beauty of getting lost. (Not realising we had another three hour, post-sunset journey before we found a place to crash.)



The break of day surprised us with more than a mountain of rice and potatoes prepared in our host families' bedroom, turns out, we were only a tiny tumble from the crater's rim. The view was sublime. We circled half the ridge. Were escorted for an hour by a young, crocheting girl who just finished checking on her llamas. Pounded through another gorge (following a proper path) and arrived in the town of Chugchilan with plenty of sunlight to spare.

Another day hiking through dynamic mountain fresh, landed us at Lulu Llama, a cute hostel where we made ourselves at home cuz nobody was there. It was a mistake not to stay an extra night, but we forgave ourselves since we opted to hop on the Lechero (milk truck) out of town. It was hands up, hands down, the best ride we've ever had. Sitting atop giant milk jugs we bounced around the mountain's dirt road dangling over the edge. We couldn't stop laughing and smiling. It was a total thrill ride, with brief stops to allow local farmers to climb aboard and contribute to the big blue drums sloshing with fresh squeezed Betsy Juice. And that's the Quilotoa Loop.

 

Maybe Tomorrow

Sikkim is about as green as you can get. Plastic bags are banned. Littering and spitting are a rarity. And hand painted signs, usually on natural slabs of rock, offer thoughtful reminders of one's duty to the planet. Most impressive.

We decided to spend our time hiking among the jungle-y hills, trying to get a taste of the local life, and forewent the higher altitude treks and journeys up north that required yet another permit, and would have bound us to a guide.

    

A lot of pretty walking. That's how we would have described this land if it wasn't for our mythic stay at Pala's -- a little homestay above Kecheparli Lake. We figured on spending a night. We hung on for six. The man in charge was Pala. An 83 year-old ball of energy with 11 kids, the youngest of which was seven! It was a total joy to immerse ourselves and observe the daily mountain life. The family cooked our meals over open flames, washed clothes with their feet, and built tools and games out of bamboo. Everything we ate came from the village, save for rice and oil. Ask for mushrooms, and Pala, the former cook of the Dalai Lama, returns 30 minutes later with a basket of tasty wild fungus. All that pure food and fresh air can make a cat thirsty. So we stimulated the local millet industry by sipping Tongba -- a fermented grain that you repeatedly top up with hot water and suck through a bamboo straw. Delicious. Heather even got to walk the little kids down the mountain to school in the morning, and teach little monks The Way of Connect 4.
   

We loved every minute of it.

Nepal — Annapurna Circuit — Freaking Awesome

Trek from tea house to tea house. Lodge to lodge. From village to village, Medieval and recent, until you ascend to more than half the height a jumbo jet reaches during long-haul flights — 5416 meters (17,769ft.)

DAY 1 : Besisahar > Khudi > Bhulebhule (840m/2756ft)

The first few days through the foot hills were good fun. We hit the trail, found our stride, and slogged through our only day of rain. We also spent time chatting with other people's guides to get the low down on the hard to reach gems. Gems they obviously didn't want their clients to become interested in. And of course, each day was extremely beautiful.

 

DAY 2 : Bhulebhule > Ngadi > Bahundanda > Ghermu > Syanje > Jagat (1300m/4265ft)

 

DAY 3 : Jagat > Chamje > Tal > Karte > Dharapani (1900m/6234ft)



DAY 4 : Dharapani > Bagarchap > Danagyu > Latamrang > Koto Qupar > Chame (2670m/8760ft)



DAY 5 : Chame > Pisang > Ghyaru (3670/12041ft)

Our breakaway from the main route started halfway through day five. Ambition turned into a 10-hour march that culminated with a switchback ascent of 350m to the ancient stone village of Ghyaru (3670m). The scenery was unreal. And with barely a soul around, we got the prime room in the village, hedged with a 20 foot run of windows. The million dollar view put us face to face with Annapurna II (7937m). We stayed for two nights to recharge and take in the natural gifts. At night we could look up from our bed and gaze at Orion, the Big Dipper, and all the constellations we know nothing about. By 5am, a cold, dim light that seemingly came from nowhere gave the mountains an imposing and eerie presence. Toss in a cackling crow. The only sign of life, strategically perched atop a single barren tree at the village edge. Spoooookey. More than once I peeked back over my shoulder, thinking I smelled smoke and had heard the gravelly voice of Rod Serling in the room.

         

DAY 6 : Ghyaru (3670m/12041ft)
  

DAY 7 : Ghyaru > Ngawal > Mungji > Manang (3540m/11614ft)

Finishing off the high road with another gorgeous day, passing only yak herders and local archers, we rolled into the trekking hub of Manang and went shopping. More Snickers, more peanut butter, and, thankfully, some elastic knee sleeves to relieve the grind of our unconservative pack jobs. Manang's extravagance — a thundering piece of apple crumble and a room with en-suite toilet and solar shower — wooed us into spending the night. It's the type of place you could easily loose a couple of days stuffing your pie hole with fat, flaky pastries worthy of any European town. But we had other plans.



DAY 8 : Manang > Khangsar > Tilicho Base Camp (4150m/13615ft)

The highest lake in the world! Our trip to Tilicho Lake Base Camp came with a number of tense moments. We had to keep close watch on the rocks that tumbled from above in the late afternoon wind. Our traverses across the danger zones were slow and way too calculated, unlike the swift footed movements we employed on the return journey, after seeing Nepalese men navigate the piles of loose sliding stone that masqueraded as a ledge. It was a lesson we were thankful to learn. The camp itself sits at 4150m and is run by a bunch of grumpy men who can put together one tasty dahl baht. Very important. The combined exertion and altitude make it necessary to eat big. At this point I could put back enough rice during one sitting to make a fat kid curl up in Richard Simmons lap.

 

DAY 9 : Tilicho Lake (4920m/16138ft)

The next morning we woke early. The weather cooperated. We went up. The bright blue sky, multiple mountain ridges, and river valley below offered us the most spectacular eye candy to date. We went up. Into the crunchy bowl of snow, flanked by steely blue peaks. We were completely alone. Euphoria reigned. For an entire hour we played. Tilicho Lake, the highlight of our trek, belonged to us.



DAY 10 :Tilicho Base Camp > back over a bunch of mountains > Yak Kharka (4018m/13182ft)

Later we bunked in the same room as a German woman. This kind of altitude can make it hard to breath, and earplugs were useless against her sonic Blitzkrieg. Only with a thick woolly hat, neck guard, and pillow for reinforcements could I dampen her vicious snore. A little groggy we took a "short cut" back to the main trail. It was another 10-hour go with barely a hint of flat. Heather found herself on the wrong side of a stomach bug, so the scenery and effort failed to give the usual high. Although the desolated trail was as good a place as any for urgent breaks. Eventually we made it to Yak Karka and Letdar, two close together acclimatization towns that made for a good, yet ice cold recovery. Nurse Wasiluk was on duty.



DAY 11 : Yak Kharka (4018m13182ft)



DAY 12 : Yak Kharka > Letdar (4200m/13780ft)



DAY 13 : Letdar >Thorung Phedi > Thorung Phedi High Camp (4800m/15748ft)  



DAY 14 : Thorung Phedi High Camp > THORUNG LA PASS (5416m/17769ft) > Muktinath (3800m/12467ft)

The final night before the pass we bunked at Thorung Phedi, High Camp (4800m). A wise decision that trimmed off the most intense hour of our hike to the pass. Like the climb to Tilicho, we couldn't have asked for better weather. Strong legs, easily 50% bigger than at the start, lifted us across the barren Mars like landscape, past numerous false tops, until we stood at the crest of accomplishment. Being on top of the world is magic. Until you have to descend. Joints pounded, one stride after the other, for more than 1600m of pure down.



DAY 15 : Muktinath > Jomsom (2800m/9186ft)

Unfortunately, a semblance of road has encroached up the west side of the loop. And in Muktinath, our first beeping horn in 15 days signaled the true end of our journey. One day later, after sharing our space with automobiles we jumped into a jeep of our own and headed to the chilled lakeside town of Pokhara to celebrate, with meat. We basked in the glow of our physical feat with 10 days of doing absolutely nothing. And while the idolity was deserved, thin air is addictive, and we'll be back. Next time with ropes.

The Way It Was

Laos is incredibly poor. The majority of people live in simple bamboo huts. Almost everyone needs to farm in order to eat. And a huge percentage of land is contaminated with bombies (unexploded cluster bombs) that were dropped by the U.S. during the secret war from 1964-73. A problem which makes development of any kind, slow, expensive and  risky. It's one of the happiest, most peaceful places I have ever been.
 
We started our journey up north in the Nam Tha province and trekked in one of their largest Nationally Protected Areas. It was gorgeous forest and jungle and we had the privilege of eating much buffalo. The jerky we smoked all night was tops. We we're even lucky enough to avoid skin contact with the leeches that were left over from the rainy season. Unfortunately, according to our young guide, all the tigers moved to China many years ago. He said they were afraid of the people, but I think it was the heart stopping power of the icy waterfalls that did them in. 
 
        

By the time we made it to Muang Noi, a small village only accessible by boat, we had already picked up more local language than in any of the previous countries. Here, we stumbled upon a guesthouse called @moon that had an herbal steam sauna. It was powered by a little woman, a large fire and an even larger cast iron pot. They had the only hot water in the village. A true treat, because Muang Noi gets downright cold when the sun slips behind the mountains.

One afternoon we got an invite to sit with the guesthouse owners at lunch and eat traditionally. Along with a bunch of funky veggie dishes, we had tasty pork laap -- a mildly spicy ground pork dish made from a pig that graciously gave his life at 3am that morning. Needless to say, we weren't the only ones eating pig. Tradition dictates you cannot eat pork laap without beer. Only here, everyone shares the same glass and there is a designated pourer, usually female, who puts between one and two shots of beer in the glass and waits for you to down it. I'm guessing the tradition started to keep imbibing husbands under control.
 
Wanting to experience even more basic Laos life, we took a hike to Ban Na -- 122 people strong. The journey there was beautiful as we passed through a rice valley surrounded by towering green mountains. If you've never seen a 6 year old girl herd cattle and buffalo, I suggest you put it on your to-do list. Aside from a few extra bamboo bungalows for travelers, Ban Na is pure, life as it was village. Only better. Because our hosts, who hung out with us all night by the fire, had picked up enough English to share wonderful stories.

   

On the Backs of Beasts

On the backs of beasts we roamed the land.
Two by two, with tropical fruits in our hand.

Down the white rapids after a relaxing float.
We bravely clung to a big rubber boat.

Through the jungle we trekked with monsterous spiders and snakes.
In the evening a million frogs sang like they had cake.

The villagers smiled, danced, and sold their wares.
In the chilling stream, we washed the dirt off in layers.

The fire crackled, snapped, and roared.
Until in our bamboo huts we lightly snored.

                               

Things Get Hot

The overnight bus was comfortable and we managed a few zzzz's. Eight hours later we arrived in Probolingo, a good 90 minutes before the sun did. Not liking the greasy little tour operator that we were dropped in front of, we started to walk. We got totally turned around, after some advice from a couple of locals, but got it sorted out after some solid info from a man in prison. Go figure.

We waited for our newly arranged ride to mount Ijen. Where we decided to go instead of the popular Mount Bromo. It was a tip we got from David (Le Canadienne) while on Mount Rinjani. Our wait included a nap on the hard floor of a coffee shop, where we had some super tasty Indonesian Kopi, and used some very unwestern facilities. It was a long, hot intermission, followed by a five hour mini bus ride to mount Ijen. 2.5 hours of which were up a totally decrepit mountain. Our driver gave multiple sighs of relief after the particularly rough patches. How reassuring.

That night we stayed at Hotel Arabica, in the lush coffee fields at the base of the volcanic peak. And made better friends with the 6 Czechs in our group. We were even treated to an authentic forest fire light show on the side of the volcano we would climb. We got up at 3:30 am for a little breakfast and headed out. It was suppose to take two hours, but after Rinjani, Heather and I had wings. We floated to the crater's rim in less than an hour.

It was sad, smelly, and absolutely amazing. Mount Ijen is a human powered sulfur mine. We descended into the bottom of the crater where a group of men pick at the huge, steaming, yellow boulders. If the wind blows the wrong way for even a second, breathing quickly becomes a painful chore. Another group of men load up the sulfer into their twin baskets and grind their way to the top, wearing only flip flops.The strongest will haul a spine crushing 100 kilograms (220 American pounds). At the top are two consecutive groups that the sulfur will be handed off to. Payment is 500 Rupiah per Kilo, to be shared. Three big, toxic trips can land each person a whopping 5 dollars a day.

       

Trek Up Mount Rinjani

Leaving the island of Bali, we took a ferry to the island of Lombok which is dominated by 2 main tourist attractions - The Gili Islands and Mount Rinjani. We chose the latter having gotten our fill of beach time in Hawaii. We negotiated a package deal for a hotel night in Sengiggi, one night in Senaru at the mountain's base, and three days and two nights on the mountain (2,000,000 Rupah). It included one guide and two porters to carry and cook for us. We were also joined by two lovely girls from the UK - Jenny and Reena.

 

At 600m we started our hike. Jeff carried a half-full pack for our clothes and water, but the porters carried everything else on their backs, using a large bamboo pole with baskets on each end. And they did it wearing flip-flops. (We asked them if they would wear shoes if we sent them some, but they replied that flip-flops were easier, and the shoes would only be worn to parties).

 

After an exhausting hike through the jungle and up the mountain we made camp at 2641m. Earlier in the day, another group of trekkers using the same organizer joined us. It was even more fun having another group of friends to hike with. David from Quebec, Fredrich from Belgium, 2 girls from Slovinia and Hattie, a local whose dream it was to summit the mountain.  We were in good company. It seemed that everyone was either on a trip around the world, or had done it recently so we got tons of travel advice and even more crazy stories around the camp fire.

 

The food the porters prepared for us was delicious. Vegetable soup, noodles, omelettes, french toast, pineapples, the works. However, sleeping on the ground at night was not so delicious. Not to mention it was freezing. Not to mention the wind was blowing like crazy. Lying there awake I pictured our tent flying around the mountain like Dorothy's house in the Wizard of Oz.

 
But we made it to the next morning, only to be greeted by Jeff getting sick from taking Malaria pills (Doxycycline) on an empty stomach. Lesson learned. So day 2 was rough on him. Actually, he looked terrible, but the scenery was killer. Gazing over the rim you could see a baby volcano surrounded by a gorgeous lake within Rinjani's crater. We hiked down to the lake but decided to take our dip in the soothing hot springs. These hot ponds of water were connected by waterfalls that pounded your back like a skilled masseuse. Taking every pain away.

That day we climbed back up and camped on the other side of the rim. And when I say rim, I mean that if you walked 5 feet to the left of our tent, you would fall down into the volcano's crater. Unfortunately, we could not make the 3am summit hike because the winds were too strong. We heard someone from another group had tried, but turned back after 15 minutes.

The last day was a gorgeous 6 hour hike downhill. Which sounds nice after all that uphill through rough terrain. But it actually killed my knees. The last two hours I hopped along on one leg, with a walking stick in each of my hands.

It was a tough deal, but Big Time rewarding. New friends, good food, and beautiful land to share them on - What more could we possibly ask for?