Since coming here,
I’ve had the goal of making it up into the mountains at least once every
weekend. Ambitious? Probably so, but so far I’ve done just that and wanted to
give some of the highlights of those various excursions here. (Warning, this
may be a longer blog as a result).
I’ve also tried to do
my best to photograph the scenery here, which never ceases to leave me
speechless. I’ll wake up from a nap on the bus, turn to look out the window,
and my jaw drops at the sight. Mountains, valleys, rivers, rocks, canyons… the
vistas are just so astounding. I’ve decided the best way to describe this range
of mountains is “violent.” When you think about the tectonic action happening underneath
Chile that has created this range, it’s exactly that, and has resulted in some
of the most intense cliff faces, craggy spires, and jutting rocks I have ever
seen. The mountains are naked of trees, which seems to make their intensity
that much more raw. My Rockies seem so much more tranquil after visiting this
range and hopefully you can tell why through my photographs…
Las Termas
We visited a hot
springs in a nearby town (about an hour south west) that boasted beautiful
natural pools among the stunning setting of an Andean valley. Hot springs are
fairly frequent along the range (again due to the violent tectonic action
happening below) and the ones we visited served for a very relaxing, enjoyable
day for under $20US. You can see the setting and how much my friends and I
enjoyed it in the pictures at left and right.
Las Leñas
Dubbed the best skiing
in South America, Las Leñas was a huge destination for me coming to Argentina.
Unfortunately, however, the Andes have had the same snow season Colorado just
suffered through and we unfortunately couldn’t partake in the terrain which Las
Leñas is famous for – specifically enormous chutes funneling down from the top
of the peaks. Instead, we dabbled with the other tourists, most of which had
very questionable skiing ability (one guy completely forgot to get off the
lift).
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| Welcome to the South Face (the black dot is a person) |
One of the highlights
of the resort was an unexpected thrill for my friend Ryan and I whilst trying
to get on a ski lift. You see, we ski up to the lift, scan our passes, then
notice that the ground a few feet ahead is moving.
It’s not snow. It’s a conveyor belt. Baffled by this concept we both start
hollering in English about this new absurdity whilst my German friend Sabastein
looks at us wondering what all the commotion is about (apparently this is
normal in Germany). We got on the lift fine, (though Ryan thought for sure we
were going to fall off the end of the conveyor belt before the lift picked us
up) and after recovering dubbed it, “the magic carpet.” We went on that lift a
few times more just for kicks and giggles.
 |
| One last look back at the resort |
By the end of the day,
Ryan and I went hunting for something more interesting than watching tourists
crash on bunny slopes (then casually skiing around them), and found a challenge
in The South Face. Sorry North Face, your branding means nothing down here
where the sun curves to the north making the South Face the dangerous side.
Ryan and I found this slope (see picture above) which was nice and icy and
very steep. It was technically “closed” and was suggested to “ski at your own
risk,” which we happily did. The first time down we actually broke a sweat, and
excited to find something interesting, decided to do the run again. About
halfway down I hit a branch or something because the next thing I know my ski
is off and I’m sliding down the hill on my hip (one of the pitfalls of ice).
Managing to stop myself finally, (only casualty: a fingernail), I had to hike
back up the hill to get my ski, and then stomp a trench for my ski to get it
back on. I took this whole experience to mean that Las Leñas was also upset I
couldn’t try her more intense runs, because if I had, they probably would have
kicked my butt.
Touché Las Leñas. Touché.
Parque
Aconcagua
Perhaps my confidence
comes from my trip to Kenya, (hey if I can survive Nairobi, I can do anything
right?) but I have this uncanny ability now to make travel plans and go to
remote (and awesome) places. This was definitely true of my adventure to
Aconcagua which occurred this past Friday.
Backstory: Cerro
Aconcagua is the largest peak outside of the Himalayas. Standing at 22,841
feet, it dwarfs all other mountains in the western hemisphere and is widely
attractive to hikers worldwide since its north face has very little technical
difficulty and can be summited without oxygen (I may or may not have looked
into this option myself). Needless to say, with my love for climbing mountains,
I wanted to see this thing. So I call up my friend Ryan (who’s probably cursing
himself for ever saying “call me up whenever you want to do something outdoorsy…”
) and we headed up into the mountain wilderness to the national park of
Aconcagua.
It was quite a ways up
the mountain pass that I realized I had no idea where we were supposed to get
off the bus, or, in fact, where we were at all. Determined to find this
mountain, I brazenly approached the bus driver at the next stop and assaulted him
with my broken Spanish explaining that I wanted to get to Parque Aconcagua and
showed him my bus ticket. I then learned that our stop was closed. By the
police.
Wat.
But never fear! says
the bus driver, and he offers to drop us off at the park entrance just a little
ways farther down the road (which I think justifies my timing for panicking about
our stop). He does exactly this and pulls away on the highway, leaving Ryan and
I standing in the middle of Andes, not another soul in sight.
Mountains, snow, blue
sky, repeat. Everywhere we looked we were surrounding by towering peaks and
white nothingness. It was a wonderful and overwhelming experience all at once.
The visitor center wasn’t open yet, so we followed snow packed footprints up
the trail to get a look at Aconcagua. Rather anticlimactically, she was
shrouded in clouds and never revealed her South Face, which is the very
dangerous climbing route and which we otherwise would have been able to see
from the loop we took. Bummed, Ryan and I threw some snowballs and entertained
the local bird population for a while hoping the clouds would break before heading
back down. We weren’t so lucky. At the Visitor Center (which was finally open)
we talked to the Ranger about other hikes to the mountain and came up with a
new goal: a three day backpacking trip to base camp of the south face, just
over 14,000 feet. Summiting the mountain may be another few years in the
future, but I can at least get a taste hopefully this coming November when we
accomplish this goal. Because we will, Aconcagua, we will. |
| She eluded me this time, but not in the future... |
Puente del Inca
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| Nbd... |
This famous historical
site was very much a total accident that occurred as a result of Aconcagua
being shrouded in clouds. The bus driver had directed Ryan and I to go back
down the highway to the little town Puente del Inca in order to be picked up
for the return ride home (I confirmed this multiple times in Spanish to be sure
we wouldn’t be spending the night lost in the Andes). So after leaving the
visitor center, Ryan and I hit the road down to Puente del Inca, just casually
walking along this barren highway with the ferocity of the Andes range as a
backdrop. You know, casual.
It was as we were
coming up to the town that I saw the colored rocks and started to get curious. “What’s
over there?” We went to investigate, and bam! I recognize the natural bridge
and old bath house my guide books had mentioned and which I had once thought, “well
that would be cool to see!”
Puente del Inca is a
famous hot springs that was once visited by Incan kings who lived in the range.
It was considered a sacred and healing place by them and I loved imagining
their presence in that place. It wasn’t hard to do given the magical colors of
the rocks, created by the hot spring’s minerals. The bath house which you see
was constructed some time later and was visited by Charles Darwin during his
travels in Latin America. He was studying geology in the area (a perfect venue
I might add) and took relaxation in the springs.The bath house was
permanently closed to preserve the bridge and for some kind of safety reasons
(the sign was in Spanish sorry) in… any guesses?
2007. My host mom even
bathed there before they closed. This blows my mind because the structure looks
so much more like a ruin. It must be the mineral deposits, but it looks eerie
to me in its abandoned state. I imagine the ghosts of Incan kings haunting the
structure. Maybe they still sink into the water hoping to warm their rattling
bones. *Shiver*
It was an amazing
experience to happen upon this place and I loved the historical significance of
it. Ryan and I were happy to head home though (yes, the bus did pick us up as
planned) since the sun went behind the clouds and the temperature plummeted. On
the way back I got a few shots of the range that attempt to capture its beauty,
though this really will never be possible.
A phenomenon that happens here is
what I’m calling “cloud windows.” Because the Andes are so enormous, the clouds
usually separate at about their torso. This means that when the clouds briefly
part, you can see the white slopes dotted with crags of rocks and cliffs, but
their caps are lost in the upper altitude clouds. It makes for quite the
double-take situation when you realize what you’re looking at is indeed a
window into the range beyond, but you can’t even see the tops of the peaks. I
attempted to photograph this while coming home from Aconcagua while the sun was
setting, and hopefully you can see or at least imagine the affect. There really
are no words.
More adventures to come…
As I continue to work
at my goal of heading into the mountains each weekend, I’ll do my best to
continue cataloguing my adventures. Words gotten out that I have this uncanny
ability to organize, so I have a plethora of friends willing to accompany me. Who
knows where I’ll end up next!
-Lisa en Argentina
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