Current Journal

The closing VWviaje journal entry comes from American soil! Back in the United States after a year of traveling, here is an account of my final month south of the border. Joined by my friend Alison, we spent our September traveling between Chile and Argentina...and the journey is a marvelous one, indeed. It is a month of skydiving, volcano skiing, flying, and new friends...not to mention juicy Argentine steaks, fine Chilean wines, and the occasional street dog bite. So to bring you up to date, it's back to the Chilean coast in late August...

In the days before Alison is due to arrive, I embark on a mission to rid myself of some extra items I've acquired over the months but have no room to bring home. When a

local second hand shop offers me near nothing for my extra clothes, I choose to distribute my unneeded apparel to the homeless population in Valparaiso. Which actualy

turns out to be much more difficult than it may sound. First of all, I need to find the "not so nice" parts of town where a gringo handing out free clothing tends to draw some attention. And then, before giving out any items, I need to ensure that the recipient is actually homeless...on several occasions I almost gave a jacket to a random guy napping on the bench. But all goes well, and it's nice to know that even my cheap, almost-waterproof Peruvian raincoat will be put to good use. Another afternoon I meet up with Rachel, who is studying at the University in Valparaiso, and we go for a  hike in some of the thickest, most impenetrable fog I've seen to date. Undeterred, we compensate for the lack of view by eating incredible empanadas at our new favorite restaurant, Las Deliciosas. I also savor my last few days on the ocean before selling my surfboards and whitewater kayak...all of which are now in the good hands of Chilean locals. Now free of most possessions, it is time for the final stage of my South American journey.

Gas tank full, oil and coolant topped of, battery charged, tires inflated. The van is officially ready for a 5:00 am departure to Santiago where I pick up my good friend Alison, fellow Westminster graduate. She will visit for the entire month of September as we plan to travel from the deserts of northern Chile to the lush and volcano studded wilds of Patagonia and many places in between. I arrive at the airport without incident, and by some strange and crazy coincidence, my old roommate Drew is on the exact same flight as Alison! Down in Chile for a freeskiing competition, we briefly meet up before he heads up into the mountains. The weather in Santiago is freezing cold, cloudy and smoggy...welcome to Chile Alison!

For her South American initiation, we spend several days around my apartment in Concon and tour the surrounding area. After an afternoon of relaxing and catching up, we hike to the summit of Cerro Mauco, accompanied the entire way by a very ardent farm dog. Although slightly cloudy, the weather is perfect for hiking, and at the summit we take in remarkable views of the Chilean coastline all the way to Valparaiso in the distant south. The next day we ride a micro bus into the resort town of Vina del Mar where we stroll the beaches before proceeding on to the chaotic (but still charming) city ofValparaiso. Valpo, famed roost of the poet Pablo Neruda, is most easily identified by the thousands of brightly colored houses that pour down its steep hillsides. Instead of walking up the streets, we opt to take an asensor into the hills above to search for a cafe. The asensor is essentially an old, wooden elevator that carries us up an abrupt seventy percent grade...and it leaves us wondering when the last time any sort of maintenance was performed on the single cable holding us up.

In our spare time we make friends with the local street dogs and contemplate the possibilities of bringing them home to the United States; a noble idea, but we decide that they probably won't be happy in our dog-strict country considering their current freedom to roam the streets and do as they please. The chilly weather finally gives way to bright sunshine, and we take the opportunity to jump into the frigid Pacific sans wetsuits, enjoy a full moon on the sand dunes, and cook a delicious pasta dinner accompanied with the local Cabernet Sauvignon.

Our first real foray takes us to Santiago where we watch Chile face off against Venezuela in a qualifying game for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. The final score is a 2-2 draw, but the result still allows Chile to qualify for the championship along with Brasil, Argentina, and Paraguay. Stepping off the bus in Santiago, menacing storm clouds finally give way to a light drizzle that steadily increases throughout the night. Undeterred by rain, we enjoy a tasty chorizo and buy giant Chilean flags before entering the sold-out stadium. Although we are there three hours before game time, nobody in the concrete stands is sitting, and we join the noisy crowd in braving the elements as we await kickoff. With loud cheers, flying toilet paper, flares, and firecrackers, the game begins. In the first five minutes Chile starts strong with a beautiful goal, but despite dominating possession for the entire game, they settle for a 2-2 tie. Sometime around midnight we exit the stadium, and to our dismay the bus driver is nowhere to be found. Finally, after much complication, we find another bus bound for the coast - but it's standing room only for the two hour ride home. At about five in the morning we arrive in Concon, exhausted but happy nonetheless to witness the spectacle of a Latin soccer game.

After some serious debate, we decide that the van is capable of one last road trip...a six hour drive north to La Serena and the famously clear skies of the Chilean desert. Northbound, we follow the coast on a perfectly manicured freeway before taking a long dirt road out to Fray Jorge National Park. A hand written sign on a fencepost indicates that the park might be closed for maintenance, but we drive on regardless. Arriving at the park entrance the next morning, there are no other signs and nothing to stop us, so we decide to go for a hike. Our plan is to climb one of the steep desert mountains for a view of the ocean. Along the way we pass no other hikers, and we are fortunate enough to see a nearby burrowing owl. And a park ranger. He stops us and patiently explains that the park is closed today for maintenance, so we choose to play the "I don't understand Spanish" card. Alison is particularly good at that one. Perhaps he is feeling generous today because he actually allows us to continue and says, "if another ranger sees you, then this conversation never happened." And like that, we have the entire national park to ourselves. Beneath the unrelenting sun, we top out on the coastal hills and are granted a splendid view of the Pacific as well as the sweeping desert mountains, uncharacteristically green and speckled with flowers from winter rains. On the way out of the park, Alison tries her hand at driving the van on the rocky dirt roads, and she easily passes the test to become a fully certified van driver.

From the park it is a short drive to La Serena where we spend the afternoon wandering past old churches and historic buildings in the tidy city. After indulging in some local dulce de leche ice cream it is time to move on, and we drive further into the mountains to camp at the not-so-scenic Shell station. The next day we take a tour of the Capel pisco factory, famous for producing Chile's national drink. Pisco is a type of brandy that is distilled from grapes, and the final product is a strong liquor with an almost tequila-like taste. At the factory, we learn about the entire pisco production process, from the grape harvesting up to bottling and distribution. Now official pisco experts, we drive further up into the mountains and spend an afternoon in the little town of Pisco Elqui. Here, there is a spectacular contrast between the auburn desert mountains and the lush valley floor, laden with abundant pisco vineyards.

At nightfall Alison and I sign up for a tour of the Mamalluca Obervatory, and we are eager to see Chile's famously clear skies from behind the lens of a digital telescope. Chile is world renowned for its observatories, and the combination of dry desert skies with minimal light pollution draws stargazers from around the globe year after year. We also learn that the southern hemisphere is more appealing to astronomers because here there are more visible constellations and objects than in its northern counterpart. With the moon low and not a cloud in sight we pass the night viewing constellations, star clusters, and nebulae. The observatory caretaker even allows us to camp in the parking lot, and we are rewarded with one of the best camp spots of the entire trip.

Early the next morning, or perhaps not so early, we set out through the desert hills for the Enchanted Valley, an archaeological  site with pictographs and other indications of an earlier culture. But what we expect to be a two hour drive turns into a full day off-roading event complete with some significant van overheating. But despite the slow going (many rest stops for the van), it turns out to be a wonderful drive with stunning scenery and the snow capped Andes in clear view. Along the way we pass through several villages with primitive but clean houses and the occasional satellite dish. The fields are filled with goats and alpaca, and the valley floor is a vibrant green from the year-round river. Late in the day, now worried about our low gas situation, we stop for fuel in a small village that definitely has no gas station. After asking around, I find a man who sells us fifteen liters of unleaded from a barrel in his backyard, and he pours the gas into our tank from some old plastic water bottles. But, however sketchy it seems, the van accepts the new gasoline and continues on without so much as a hiccup. Somehow the balding van tires survive the rocky dirt track, and we emerge safely from the canyon onto a freshly paved road. As the sun drops below the horizon we find a faint 4X4 path that leads us to a dry creek bed where we establish camp for the night.

Alison and I awake in the morning to find ourselves in a beautiful canyon surrounded by sandstone bluffs and numerous cacti, not unlike a scene from the American

southwest. Hiking up the wash for an hour or so we scale some obstacles and come to a waterfall with a clear pool at the bottom. A sheer cliff prevents us from hiking any further up the wash, so we walk up and out of the canyon for a view of the surrounding area. Along the way we also find scores of turquoise stones in the dry riverbed and are reminded of Chile's mineral rich lands.

Back on the road, we finally arrive at the Enchanted Valley and spend the rest of the afternoon wandering among some well preserved pictographs. Alison breaks out her slackline and we spend a bit of time testing our balance by walking the line strung between two trees. For those that don't know, a slackline is basically a length of climbing rope used to walk across (much like a tightrope) to practice balance...and it's not as easy as it looks! Fully satisfied with

our trip to the north (not to mention ready for some first class steak dinners), we drive back to Concon in preparation for a trip to Argentina.

Back at my apartment, we quickly regroup and decide to spend several days on the leeward side of the Andes in Mendoza, Argentina. Before departing, though, I take a leap of faith and hand over the van to a new acquaintance, Dr. Kirsinger. The doctor, from the wealthy Chilean upper class, says that he will pay me for the interior of my van...he wants to literally strip the inside and take everything out (including the seats and the pop-top roof) to convert his current vehicle into a camper. He tells me that he can do the work in the next two weeks, so with little more than a phone number and his address, I give him the keys to the van. After hours of speaking with customs and police officers, I have found that the only way to legally rid myself of the van (besides shipping it home to the US) is to hand it over to Chilean customs...in exchange for no compensation, of course. Thus, selling the interior is my last-resort effort to make some sort of money on the van.

Now vanless, we are relegated to bus travel - actually a nice break for our wallets given the steep gas prices in South America. With not a cloud in sight, the journey up and over the Andes to Argentina is nothing short of spectacular. We ascend a series of seemingly endless switchbacks to the ski area of Portillo, across the Argentine border, past Cerro Aconcagua (6960 meters), and finally by Puente del Inca, an impressive natural bride at the top of the Andes. After several hours of winding through the rugged mountains, we arrive in Mendoza where we are greeted by a hospitable Argentine woman who offers us a cheap apartment for several days in the heart of town.

A sort of mini Buenos Aires, Mendoza is a clean and modern city filled with excellent restaurants and cafes - it also serves as the gateway to Argentine wine country. In the city we make a morning tradition of drinking coffee, eating croissants, and playing some gin rummy to start off each day. Afterward, we wander the wide boulevards and test our balance on the slackline in the leafy plaza. The weather is perfect, a nice respite from the Chilean cold, and we rent some bikes the first afternoon to pedal our way around the city and up to Cerro de la Gloria, a steep hill that gives us a nice vantage point of the surrounding area. And of course we chow down on plenty of the famous bife de chorizo steak.

In the morning we take a bus up into the foothills where we soak at the hot springs with a group of local Argentines. Without a doubt, we are definitely the only gringos around. One evening we notice a poster for the Banff Mountain Film Festival playing in Mendoza. This is a yearly compilation of the best outdoor action sport movies ranging from skiing, biking, and kayaking to climbing and BASE jumping...so needless to say Alison and I decide to attend. And watching the movies plants a seed in our brains for later events in our travels...

On our last full day in town, we join a biking tour to some local wineries, an olive oil factory, and a chocolate/liquor factory. Everybody in our twelve person group is fun to be around, and we make lots of new friends (mostly from the UK) during the tour. Along the way, we learn about each successive winery and the methods of properly tasting wine, whatever that means. We are also shown the process of producing olive oil, and at our final stop we are offered samples of home-made chocolates and liquors. Alison and I, being the brave (or maybe stupid?) ones in our group, volunteer to try the local absinthe, which is an absolutely terrible idea. Even with sugar, the neon green alcohol is barely drinkable, and it is quite possibly the most awful tasting liquid imaginable.

On our last night in Argentina we are finally served the perfect steak and we are now content to leave the country and return to Chile. After stocking up on some traditional mate tea to top off the Argentine experience, we hop on the bus to cross the Andes and spend the Chilean independence day in-country. At the completion of another long travel day, we arrive back in Concon and prepare for the famous Chilean independence day, September 18th. We grab our Chilean flags and head into town, only to find the whole place deserted. Although the beach is packed with families enjoying the day off of work, there seem to be no festivities. Finally, late at night, we happen upon the big party which consists of mostly middle-aged couples dancing in traditional Chilean outfits. Satisfied with the experience and completely exhausted, we head home and make plans to continue the nonstop action by heading for Patagonia early the next morning.

Southbound on another twelve hour bus ride, we are now headed down the fertile Chilean central valley for Pucon. At the northern reaches of Patagonia, Pucon is the

adventure tourism capital of Chile, and options are abound...travelers can hike, ski, bike, climb, or raft and then soak in the natural hot springs. Without a doubt the most

prominent feature of Pucon is the imposing and perfectly conical snow-capped and smoking Volcan Villarrica that dominates the skyline. Over the next few days we go trekking in the nearby national park, biking around town, soaking in the hot springs, and of course the highlight of our trip: hiking up and skiing down the Villarrica volcano. In between events, we slackline in the park, go rowing out on the lake, and spend time with our new British and Israeli friends. One unfortunate evening, Alison (to the dismay of both her and her parents) is bit on the leg by an angry street dog apparently guarding her nearby puppies. The event, a rarity, makes our travel duo two for two in

having Chilean dog bites.

Our original plan in Pucon is to simply hike the volcano, but when given the option of skiing down as well, Alison and I jump at the opportunity. Joining up with a tour guide we are provided ice picks, crampons, backpacks, and of course some neon yellow jackets and matching snow pants. Although our group is about sixteen people

strong, only four of us will be skiing down. The only downside is that our small backpacks do not have any extra room, and we must hike the entire volcano in marginally comfortable but formidably heavy rental ski boots.

With the help of some instant coffee, we are wide awake at 4:45 am and hiking by 6:00. Armed with crampons and the added security of an ice pick, we work our way up the volcano on steep, icy snow fields in the frigid morning air. We can't help but to notice that unless the sun significantly softens the snow then our ski down might be more survival than enjoyment. And a fall on the steep slope would certainly result in a very uncontrolled sliding adventure to the base of the volcano. Luckily, most of our group is in good physical condition, and we arrive at the smoking summit in about six hours with a 360 degree panorama of Chile, Argentina, and the Pacific Ocean. The guides,

who sometimes hike the volcano every single day for weeks in a row, are hardly even tired.

In spite of the incredible view, we are advised to not stay on the summit for more than ten minutes due to the toxic fumes that rise out from the smoking crater. Clicking on our rental skis, we are nervous about the snow quality but eager to ski. It turns out that with six full hours of sun exposure the snow has softened, and below us lies 5,300 vertical feet of perfect spring skiing. It has been over a year since I've skied, but between the excellent snow and the fact that we are skiing down a volcano, my legs don't mind, and we arrive at the base of the ski area in about twenty minutes. In the evening, exhausted and sore, we head up to the hot springs with our British and Israeli friends to savor a relaxing soak underneath the southern stars.

The next morning we hitch a ride with the Israeli's, Shai and Dudu, to Huerquehue National Park for a trek through the forest among the strange looking, prehistoric monkey puzzle trees. Throughout the hike we have dramatic views of the volcano, and at the top we reach a series of beautiful alpine lakes. On our final day in Pucon we rent some bikes and head out for a ride, but a flat tire cuts the trip short and we spend the rest of the afternoon in town rounding up a pack of our favorite street dogs and scheming to bring them home. In the evening we bid farewell to our friends and beloved street dogs, then board the long bus ride back to Concon for our last few days in South America.

Back at my apartment, Dr. Kirsinger arrives at the door one morning with the van...it is still in tact, but is now a convertible! He succeeded in stripping the entire interior as well as cutting off the roof, complete with pop-top and bed. My home for the past year is now hardly recognizable, and it looks  more suited to be a taco stand than a road-worthy vehicle capable of sleeping four. And the only thing left for me to do is drive it to the Chilean customs office and hand it in - to be auctioned off by the Chilean government. But first there are more important things to attend to...

Inspired by the Banff Mountain Film Festival, Alison and I have been talking about going skydiving for the past two weeks. Encouraged by a discounted price from a pilot

friend, we finally make the decision to go...it will be a personal first for the both of us. We drive my recently modified convertible van to the airport and wait around while another group of skydivers jump. The aircraft is a small, four seat Cessna and thus we must go up one at a time because of weight restrictions. Our comical instructor, Eduardo, takes us up separately, Alison first, and we are sure to watch closely when he packs the parachute. We are given a choice in skydiving outfits to wear, and while Alison chooses the classic look, I select the most 1980's neon outfit that I can find. So, after a fifteen minute plane ride we are ten thousand feet directly above the airport among the puffy cumulus clouds. The only thing left to do is jump out of a perfectly good airplane. Thirty six seconds of freefall and a short parachute ride later we arrive back to solid ground with all body parts in tact and one more thing to check off our life to-do list.

The next morning dawns cloudless, and with my last chance to go flying in South America I call up a pilot friend, German, and we meet at the airport for one final flight. Flying northbound up the coast, the weather is absolutely spectacular, and our aerial view allows us to see deep into the azure blue waters. It is a privilege to have one last

flight in the southern hemisphere before returning home, and what better way to do it than on such a spectacular day - it is a great ending to an already perfect trip.

And so all that remains at this point is to rid myself of the van. Early in the morning, we hop into the roofless vehicle and make the chilly drive to Chilean customs. Expecting the worst, I am pleasantly surprised with how quickly and efficiently the officials are able to complete my paperwork. Thirty minutes and a stamped piece of paper later I am

legally free of the van! So after a year of traveling through thirteen countries, her fate now lies in the hands of the Chilean government...

With nothing left to do but pack our things, Alison and I spend the last day in Concon where we bid farewell to the local street dogs that we have now come to know by

name (see the Friends page for pics!). In the evening we meet up with Rachel and have an expensive (but not very good) seafood dinner. With three large bags, a guitar, and an unwieldy kayak paddle, I load my gear onto one last South American bus and head for Santiago. Our redeye flight to the States departs on time, Alison and I say our goodbyes in Atlanta, and several hours later I touch down in San Francisco...and I am back in the United States of America for the first time in over one year!

One final thank you to everyone who followed our journey via the www.vwviaje.com website...share it with a friend!

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