Aaron's Take on the Land of Earth, Wind, and Fire.

On February 19th, 2013 A.D. the troupe set off from Puerto Natales for Tierra Del Fuego.  TDF is a largest island on the southern tip of South America, shared by Chile and Argentina.  It is so named because sailors who first saw the island were able to see the large fires built by the indigenous people as they sailed passed.  Using their keen sense of the subtle, they decided to name the island Tierra Del Fuego which translated means “tierra of the fuego”.  Well that about sums up our adventure there.  Talk to ya’ll later.

No actually, we had a great time on the island.  As we drove along the north coast of the Straits of Magellan we happened upon two abandoned ships on the shore.  We had no choice but to risk tetanus and rampage about the wreckage, exploring, pretending to be spies shooting each other, and avoiding a bunch of smashed beer bottles.  We then proceeded on to the ferry that was going to take us the TDF.  To our dismay we saw the line for the ferry and realized it was about 23 grams (or whatever they use for distance) long.  No really, it was actually long and took us 4 hours to get on the ferry.  When we finally got to the island it was dark and we really had no idea where to stay.  We proceeded to the town of Cerro Sambrero and thankfully found a hostel.  The next day we planned on going to a park to see emperor penguins and then make our way to Lago Blanco to camp.  After an hour of driving on dirt roads we came to the small privately owned park for the penguins and found out they were going to charge us about $24 to look at them.  This was a bit steep for us so we continued on to the lake.  We got tot the lake in the early afternoon and met a couple who looked like they were from West Virginia.  I was actually surprised they spoke Spanish.  He always had full camo gear on, a long ponytail, bushy beard, a four wheeler, Ford F-350, and four dogs.  Over the next two days they were incredibly gracious and shared many things with us.  We spent two nights at the edge of the lake just camping and enjoying a life of leisure.  One day was spent trying to find groceries and gasoline but we found out that the Chilean side of the island is quite barren.  Thankfully a logging mill sold gas thus preventing us from having walk the rest of our trip.

On the 22nd we had the goal of reaching the southernmost city in the world: Ushuaia, Argentina.  We went to the border the southern border crossing (which is only open in the summer) and quickly made it across.  The best part was having to drive through a shallow river.  I guess that explains why it’s only open in the summer.  After a few hours of driving we made it to Rio Grande.  In my opinion, Rio Grande has the charm of  Toledo, Akron, Scranton, PA, and Buffalo, NY, all rolled into one.  It did, however, have groceries and we piled up on fruits and veggies because we had been deprived of these for fear of them being taken at the border.  We then headed down for the southern coast.  I had heard there is good camping along the coast near where the original settle of Ushuaia, Lucas Bridges, had raised his family.  On the way to finding a camping spot we passed a full grown tree that literally grew sideways because of the force of the arctic winds coming off the sea.  In fact, most of the trees in TDF resembled Donald Trump’s hair: windswept and a little thin.  We were able to find a great spot up on a hill with a great view of the surrounding land.  By the ocean I collected some clam-like something or others and we decided to boil them that night.  They tasted ok but thankfully we only each ate one or two because the next day I noticed a sign saying “Danger! Do not collect mollusks.”  Boy do we live on the edge!

The next day we girded up our loins (individually, not collectively) and drove to Ushuaia.  We were pleasantly surprised at how nice the town looked.  While most of the island was a desolate nastiness, Ushuaia is a colorful harbor town surrounded by low snow capped  mountains.  And of course since we were in the southernmost city in the world, we all had to buy something to prove it.  That afternoon was spent unlike any other we had on the trip and we were simply tourists trying to buy some trinkets.  That evening we found another camping spot and made a feast to celebrate making it to the edge of the southern world.  Rice, lentils, boiled potatoes, hand made tortillas, guacamole, and pico del gallo (fresh salsa) were consumed in rapid fashion.  The most disturbing part of the night was realizing the moon was upside down!  It was incredibly bright and I was just enjoying looking at it but I noticed the craters didn’t look right.  I then decided to look at it upside down and lo! it  was the old moon I knew.  Unnerved by the moon we decided to start heading north the next day.  Actually we had to get a move on it because Josh is flying out  of Buenos Aires soon.

Sunday the 24th we visited the southernmost golf course in the world and the southernmost train in the world.  Both would have been really fun but both were too expensive so we just started heading north.  The most interesting part of the day was when a gas station on the border told us they were out of  gas which meant it was going to be very close if we could make it to Cerro Sambrero without running out.  Thankfully we did but since the gas station was closed we once again had to stay in a hostel and wait for it to open.  Leaving the island the next day was a breeze.  We waited about 10 minutes, boarded the ferry, and were even given the treat of watching dolphins swim along the side of the boat.  Since they were in water I couldn’t tell how many knots or leagues and hour (or whatever they metric aquatic system calls it) but it was really fast.  It was a great farewell to a great island.

Guanacos and Mountains and Windstorms, Oh My! With Hans

Punta Arenas, Chile, is a city built for farewells. The only interruption of the grey of the sky and the grey of the town is the chipping spray paint of the graffiti, and it was in this ramshackle settlement that we said goodbye to Logan. Incidentally, it was also where we welcomed Sheldon. It is not a welcoming city, but young Yoder bore it with equanimity.

After welcoming Sheldon and leaving Logan, the five of us (and the monkey) made haste to the most popular park in South America, Parque Nacional Torres Del Paine. Translated, “The Towers of Paine” our experience is that it would be better understood without the ‘e.’

We started our expedition under the same iron sky as had overshadowed our visit to Punta Arenas. Only this time, it was spitting down on our heads. We hiked only an hour and a half that first day, but we were miserable throughout it. The rain soaked through our pants to our underwear and socks, our socks into our boots, and from there, it dampened our souls. The scenery (scrubby hills, tall meadows) wasn’t much, and what it was, we didn’t see. Our heads were down, our hoods were up, our spirits were low and the wind was high. It was miserable.

Not as miserable, though, as discovering that we’d left the gas can for the stove in the car. Taking up a granola bar against the hunger, and a trekking pole against the pumas, I ventured forth to rectify the error. I returned to the car, retrieved the gas can, and hiked back to camp (discovering, on my way, puma-looking tracks that gave me an extra energy boost). I got back to the lads, and stove united to canister, we feasted on…a cup of cold granola each, because the stove still wouldn’t stay lit.

The next day, as Weber, Aaron, Sheldon and I pressed on, Josh returned to the car (again) for our other stove. We hiked three hours (in much the same miserable weather as the preceding day) to a sea of tents, and a swirl of other hikers. Mostly, they swirled into and out of an octagonal building set aside for cooking. Drawn by body heat, we repaired thither and feasted on cold tuna and crackers.

After an abortive attempt at a day hike, the four of us hunkered down and waited for Josh. At seven PM, as concerns and stomach pangs increased in intensity, the heroic Gingerich rejoined us, stove in tow. With cries of joy, we embraced the stove. And Josh, too. And then we made lentils, rice, and soup, and for the first time, it seemed possible to be warm, and dry, again.

Next morning, though the sky still spat, it was blue, and the sun shone down on us as we hiked first uphill, and then--defying Newton--further uphill. Including a two-hour day hike to one of the most impressive mountain views of our trip so far, and--due to the official free campgrounds being inexplicably closed--an extra two hours on the end, we hiked ten hours total. In the evening, walking like a posse of the less-energetic extras in a zombie film, we found a remote, soggy, semi-sheltered corner of the campground, and endured the wind and the cold just long enough to make and eat supper. We then endured the warmth and comfort of our tents just long enough to sleep for twelve hours.

Our fourth day on the trail, we once again hiked upward through sunlight, over swinging bridges across wild rivers, and across grassy foothills, up, up, up, up, to the mouth of a long, narrow valley with a river at the base, and a campground far in the interior. Following the winding ribbon of the road, we entered a forest and again begged our legs for just enough to make it up the next hill. As with the preceding day, we frequently paused on the path to gaze in wonder at what lay before us, or behind us, or beside us, and to consecrate it all to memory.

Another short supper was followed by a long night, and the next morrow, our legs gave of their best, and provided one last shove up to one of Torres Del Paine’s most classic vistas--a close up view of Paine’s granite monoliths themselves, over a glacial lake. We came, we saw, and we staggered away not wholly defeated.

                Our hike back out to civilization was chiefly notable for two reasons: we met another native of Columbus, OH, and we encountered a gust of wind so powerful that it pried our feet off of the path, and we had to drop to the ground and crouch against the wall of the mountain to not just get swept off entirely.

                In the parking lot, as we waited for the shuttle buses to take us back across the park to our car, Aaron, Weber and I chatted about life, traveling and Columbus with our new friend. The wind was still carrying on, and powerful, periodic gusts bombarded us with tossing particles of dirt and sand. As we hunkered beneath the blast of one such onslaught, I opened my eyes to see our tarp--having ‘til then been tucked snugly into place on Aaron’s backpack--crossing the parking lot at several hundred miles an hour. I yelped, and Aaron and I jumped up and ran after it.

                It was no use. By the time we were on our feet, the tarp was tossing in the air above an adjacent hill and gaining speed and altitude at a remarkable rate. The last we saw of our tarp, it was a speck, moving ever upward and onward into the clouds. We mourn its loss, but consider the price of a tarp more than fair payment for the sight of the tarp literally being lifted into the clouds, and we hope that it has found its way to a deserving new owner who will love and care for it as we did.

We then spent three years over the course of two delay-prone buses returning to our parking lot, and the waiting warmth of St. Phoenix.

                Reunited with the car, we returned to the now-familiar town of Puerto Natales, cleaned ourselves up, and went out to celebrate Josh’s birthday with a meal at the same restaurant which hosted Weber’s birthday celebration.  I will not recount the actual events of that meal, but if you meditate awhile on the phrases “feeding frenzy,” “starving wolves,” and “no survivors” you should capture the essence of it.

                The next morning we pressed on, and doubtless the chronicles of the days that followed will soon appear here.

Note: internet access has been very difficult to come by, and when we come by it, brief over the past while. We´ll try to update you on the happenings post-Paine asap.

Things That Happened Once - Mr. Weber

If there was a sister machine to the Imagination Station, and it was called the Domination Station, then we took a ride in it for the breakfast at our hostel in El Calafate.  It was one of those hostels where it was big enough to have a table decked out with bread, cereal, juice, tea, milk, coffee, sweet crackers, dishes, knives, jelly, and spoons.  And cups.  All of these were heavily utilized by us.  As I mentioned earlier, it was just big enough that you couldn’t pinpoint the group that ate like they were all pregnant and eating for two.  To be fair though, we were trying to eat for two meals, so in a way, I guess we were pregnant.  Though, I’m doubting that argument would hold up in a court of law, though court shouldn't be involved in our plans.  Right.  Back to El Calafate.

By about 11 a.m., we started driving to Perito Moreno, which holds one of the most popular glaciers in the world, for a reason.  The reason is because it is very big and nice.  Once we got there, we realized we walked into the middle of an octogenarian convention.  Apparently, there was a cruise for elderly people that made stops there.  When we walked into park-owned cafeteria, it smelled just like a nursing home back in the states.  I almost grabbed a guitar and started singing Christian folk songs, just like we used to do with my youth group back in Ohio.  Besides that fact, the glacier was sweet.  Look to the latest pictures for a visual.  It really was insanely awesome.

After Perito Moreno, we drove to Puerto Natales, and got into town by 9:30 or 10.  We found a nice little hostel, Nikos II (because, apparently, there is an original Nikos in town (which we found later) that is still in business, and they couldn’t think of another name).  We quickly cooked up our meal in a real kitchen (egg sandwiches and rice!!), and then took it easy, used the internet to talk to girls and stuff, and then went to bed.

The next morning, we went to a nearby lake, Lago Sophia, which we heard was really good for fishing.  This excited us, because we like to fish.  Unfortunately, I think they meant that Lago Sophia was great for not-fishing.  Either that, or we are really bad at fishing.  Which is true.  Needless to say, we caught no fish, but we did catch crocs.  Let me explain this fun little story for you.  Hans, Aaron and I went hiking up a hill/mesa/thing for about an hour or so while Logan took a nap and Josh wrote the previous blog update.  When we came back, Logan was in his sleeping bag on the ground sleeping, and Josh was sitting in the car writing still.  I looked at Logan, and there was a black croc laying up against his head.  I guess the strong Patagonian wind had blown it onto him, and the other croc (we are talking about those shoes with holes, in case you haven’t figured it out yet) was 10 feet away.  Well, Josh decided to try them on, and now they are in our car upping Josh’s legit hikerness.  Apparently, crocs are a staple of hikers down here, since we’ve seen a ton of people strap them to the outside of their bag.  So, Lago Sophia wasn’t great for fish, but it was great for crocs.  To be fair, had the locals told us it was great for crocs, we wouldn’t believe them.

We decided to spend the night near the lake, and we cooked up rice, lentils, tea, and rice pudding.  Good stuff.  We were a little lazy that day, so we only set up one tent, and sent two people to sleep in the car.  I (Andrew) didn’t sleep in the car, so I was ok with it.  We woke up, and drove up to Torres Del Paine to camp for a bit.  We found a campsite (which we had to pay for, boo!), and then went on a 3 hour hike with ganuacos lining the path pretty much the whole way.  These things are a cousin to the llama, and as land animals go, are one of the four things we’ve seen on this trip.  Llamas, these weird emu things, armadillos, and (this is wishful thinking) pumas.  For two days, we camped at Torres Del Paine, hiking easy treks that lasted under 4 hours.  Next week we will be hiking a lot more in TDP, but this was just a primer for us, and also so Logan could see a bit of TDP before he leaves.

After two days in TDP, we drove back to our previous home, Nikos II.  Oh, right!  That day was my (Andrew) birthday!  I was a little disappointed that the guys didn’t hire jesters, those stretcher carriages that kings used to use, and a big crown made out of some form of expensive material.  Oh well.  I’m just kidding. They were very nice to this guy.  Hans woke up a little early and made us fried potato ball things for breakfast which was awesome (along with rice, of course), they gave me shotgun in the car for free (not that we have to pay for front seat, but they told me to sit there), and then we got lots of bread (which is my favorite thing in this world), and told me to go to my room because they were going to cook food in the kitchen at Nikos.  Then, Aaron told me to put on pants because supper was ready.  I walked out and saw nothing for my birthday meal.  They told me we were all going to fast and drink water.  I was so happy!  That was a lie.  I actually walked out, and then they took me to a nice restaurant and paid for my meal.  What nice bros.  Seriously.  We came back to the hostel after that, ate more bread with peach marmelada while we watched the only movie we have along on the trip.  It was a great day.

As I write this, we are driving to Punto Arenas, the city Logan flies out of, and Sheldon will enter from.  It’s really sad to see him go, but it’s also really exciting to have another guy join us.  I guess as the people say, it’s “sweetbitter”.  Logan will be making a pit stop in the Dominican Republic to visit his girlfriend for three days there, and then will head on home to Pennsylvania where he will continue his normal life working on the farm, hunting, and lovin’ life, while having a small hobby of videoing his pursuits of huntin’, and it’s called White Tail Pursuit.  Google it.  It’s legit.  Even though he says it’s not, and shaking his head while I write this down (they sold out a theater at home with a screening of it).  Anyway, Sheldon is coming one night before Logan leaves, so we’ll all have one night together to hang out, all six of us, and then Logan will head out the next day, and we will head back to Torres Del Paine to hike for 5 days.  Life is good.

Josh tells of rampaging Mont Fitz Roy

On the morning of Febuary 3rd we woke up at ready for our 4 or 5 day hike to and around Mt. Fitz Roy.  Although it was early, everyone was ready to go hiking.  We had divided all the food and supplies amongst each other, found the trailhead where we were starting, and had our bags packed, ready to go, the night before.  So we got up and ate a small breakfast and by about 10 o’clock we were out on the trail. The weather to start the hike didn’t seem to promising at first considering it was windy and rainy. I was praying that the weather would clear up as the day went on.  Thankfully, The Lord answered that prayer and  in about an hour the weather had cleared up and we were hiking through forests and up hillsides.  Then at around 12:30 we stopped to have a snack and we realized we had been hiking on the wrong trail, and in order to get to our campsite for night one we had to hike back to where we started and go on another trail.  I’m not sure why you would name one trail Lago Toro and another Lago Torres. So our day of three hours of hiking quickly turned into a total of seven hours of hiking.  We arrived at our campsite for the night at about 7 PM, very tired and hungry. We quickly set up tents and some took a small nap before we started on dinner, which was rice and lentals! After eating, which took awhile because we could only cook one thing at a time. We quickly and happily resigned to our tents to sleep.
We then woke up Monday morning ready to go, we were optimistic for our short day of hiking which would be about three and a half hours to our next campsite. We got some rice in our bellies and headed off down the trail by 11 AM.  We stopped off at some great viewpoints of the valleys and mountains along the way. We arrived at our second campsite by about three in the afternoon and set up camp and ate a snack. We then decided to go take a closer look at Mt. Fitz Roy before we cooked supper. At this point, because we weren’t used to hiking a lot, our feet were blistering up. Logan had especially bad feet because he accidentally stepped into a bush with bare feet and got thorns in his feet, then on top of that he had blisters. After some of us bandaged up our feet all of us but Logan decided to head up this mountain on a one hour hike to see a great view. After about 45 minutes of zig-zagging up the mountain we reached the top to see a beautiful view of Mt. Fitz Roy and the blue glacier water lake below it.  After being up there for a half hour we decided to head back down and get to cooking. That night we had some more lentals, rice and warm tuna, with crumbled crackers on it. After that we hung out for a bit and retired to our beds.
On Tuesday Febuary 5, Aaron and Hans got up before the sunrise to see the sun come up on Mt. Fitz Roy. Then they figured they would get a head start on breakfast by making rice.  Sadly, our stove had other plans and to make a long story short we ended up having about half done rice for breakfast. It was nasty. After eating we decided that we were going to stay and camp at this place another night. So we were going to hike to the end of the trail and back, which was about eight hours of hiking in total. We set out, and about an hour into the hike we saw a beautiful glacier that had a couple waterfalls emptying into a clear blue lake.  Later, around hour two into our hike it started to rain a little, it continued to rain, and rain, and rain. It ended up raining the rest of our hike, which made things fun. But thankfully we all brought our rain jackets with us, so the top half of our bodies stayed relatively dry.  When we got to the end of the trail there was a restaurant in the middle of nowhere. We all ended up splitting a pizza between the five of us and it was really good. So after our break to eat we headed back out into the rain. We walked back in a little different way to see some different sights and arrived back at camp. We then had to deal with our stubborn stove to make dinner. It worked just about the same as it did that morning and we ended up having somewhat of a “lentil soup”, which consisted of lentils, water, and onions.  One thing about camping and always being hungry is that most all food tastes good!  Well, except for that horrible rice we had that morning. After eating we immediately went to bed, everyone was cold and tired.  Thanks to the Lord it had stopped raining when we were eating dinner and all the stuff in our tents stayed dry.
On the 4th and last morning of your trek Andrew and Hans woke up before the sunrise and watched the sun come up on Mt. Fitz Roy again.  That morning Hans worked his magic with the stove and got it to give us a good flame for breakfast and we had a crazy amount of rice, which was amazing! Then, as we were packing up to leave, we met the Israelis that we keep running into. This was about the 4th or 5th time in about three weeks that we met up with them.  After everyone had taped up there feet we headed down the mountain to Chalten. It was a good walk because it was downhill and took us right around two hours. When we got down and packed everything back up in the car we hit up the grocery store and had some good ole tomato on bread sandwich things. Ahh, it was just fabulous! We drove about four hours down to the city of El Calafate. Where we stayed the night in a hostel. It was great to have some warm showers and soft beds to sleep in again.

Slick Pic(k)s By Mr. Weber

 Aaron the Ax-Wielder.  He's really become manly on this trip.

 The view from the aforementioned climbing of the "mesa," or as I like to call it, Big Rocky.  There is our cabin we stayed at (the one across the road in the middle of the screen).

 While some may mistake this for the finger of God writing on the walls, this is actually my finger pointing to where we escalated ourselves.

 Hector's weekend cabin that he let us stay in.  What a bro.  Seriously.

 Band name: Dudes In Fields.  Album name: Sunhead.

 This man was legit.  We felt weird getting out of the car to take his picture, but we knew we'd want it later.

 The Man (Hector), and his father.  One of the legitimately nicest guys I've met, and he really didn't have a big reason to be nice to us.  

 Border crossings are meant for easy access, not governmental overseeing.

 3 hours of the open bumpy road, wondering if we are in Argentina or not.

 A camping spot, where we bought gas so that we wouldn't die in the middle of Chile or Argentina, wherever we were.

 This is what a cake would look like if it looked like this.

 Monte Fitz Roy, soon to be elaborated and enamored upon.

 This guy is a backpacker! Just look how cool he is!

 Glacier, or for simple folk not looking for big words, "cold stuff".

 We slipped into Narnia for a tad.  That evil witch.

 One Man.  One Life.  And.  Stuff..

 Sometimes I get angry and throw rocks at pretties.

 But he plays baseball.

 As the French would say, "Very nice!"  Monte Fitz Roy, again.

 Trudging for 8 hours a day can be fun, but you're also very ready to set up camp.

 Hans pretending he was Alexander the Great, again.

 This was after we set up camp, and Josh and Logan had walked here, and then back to camp before the sun set completely, so we decided to punish them by taking a picture of ourselves and posting it on the blog without them.

 We went to Africa for a day.

 The sunrise at Monte Fitz Roy.  I feel like Hans posted this already.  Enjoy doubly!

 One sweet glacier we saw.  Aaron was there, as you can see.

 4 of us didn't get the sunglasses memo.

 Sometimes, we eat really good.  Sometimes we really don't, but sometimes we eat good.

 One of the most popular glaciers ever.

 We have formed small gangs here.

 They usually don't intimidate.

That glacier again.  They aren't near as cold as we are.  That's not true.  We have consciences.

Hans: A Little Something To Keep You Going Between Real Posts

Monte FitzRoy, though not exceedingly tall,
Is notable for being, basically, a wall,
And though our four days hiking 'round it were nice,
I learned a lesson about quarter-cooked rice...

...Namely, that you can eat it.

I could've done without that lesson.

We learned many other important, unpleasant, and (we think) entertaining lessons while backpacking all over the place in the FitzRoy neighborhood, and hopefully, someone'll be filling out all the gory details, shortly. In the meantime, here's one photo of FitzRoy Weber just after sunrise, and a link to the wikipedia page, just in case you were wondering if learning Important Life Lessons was worth it.

More 'Bout FitzRoy

Aaron Gets Greedy, Posts Consecutively

Sunday the 27th we rolled into the town of Coyhaique (pop. 50,000), not sure whether we had a connection in the town.  This past summer while eating at El Vaquero in Dublin my waiter turned out to be Cristian Caceres from Coyhaique.  That evening he told me his father owned a hardware store in the town and that if we took a letter to him we could stay with him.  During our travels down the Carretera Austral I had been emailing Cristian but I had yet to be in contact with anyone in Coyhaique.   So, as I said, Sunday we came cruising into town through scenery that really reminded me of Wyoming or Idaho.  This has been something that has really impressed me about Chile; it can quickly change its scenery and it almost always reminds me of some part of the U.S. that I have visited.  Famished and tired we drove around the town looking for internet to get a hold of this “Hector Caceres Ossos” who was, according to his son, was going to make us barbeque lamb.  We finally got the address of the hardware store and went to the hardware store to deliver the letter that had flown to Cuzco, Peru and ridden buses and the ‘ol Subaru down to Coyhaique.  We knocked and dejectedly realized that since it was Sunday nobody was there.  Unsure of where we could camp, we decided to spend the night at Hostel Patagonia.  It was a great evening of relaxation and recharging.

The next morning we devoured whatever was brought out to us for the complementary breakfast and packed up expecting to leave Coyhaique.  A friendly lady from Chicago at the hostel informed us that Argentina had just passed a law on January 7th that Americans needed to purchase a $160 visa prior to trying to cross the border.  That meant that much of the day would be spent getting visas, purchasing car insurance of Argentina and getting final documents for the car at their equivalent of the DMV.  Thankfully, their equivalent of the DMV had friendly men and women that really wanted to help us instead of elderly grumpy women who could grow a better mustache than I would ever be able to.  Me heart did stop when the helpful man told me that final card of ownership couldn’t be picked up for 10 more days, which in my mind meant that we couldn’t cross the border for 10 more days.  My heart started again when he quickly pulled out some paper that he assured me we could cross no problem.  After this we decided to try again at the hardware store and see if Hector was actually there.  We went into the tiny shop and the a man behind the counter (he looked about 60) immediately lit up.  Few people are excited to see 5 scrubby gringos, but Hector sure was.  He immediately took us to the back of the shop and tried to communicate with us about what I believed was a campground 20 km out of town.  I thought he was saying he knew a place to camp that also had good fishing.  I rode in his Jeep while the guys followed in the car and he first took us to the supermarcado.  There we watched in amazement as he rampaged through the supermarket grabbing Coca Colas, huge slabs of beef, pork, bread, and potatoes.  20 km outside of town we pulled into what turned out to be Hector’s weekend house.  It was a small cabin with a kitchen, another room for sleeping, and bathroom but it blew us away since we were expecting to leave the area.  We all immediately knew that this place had to be thoroughly enjoyed for several days.  That evening we watched in amazement as Hector cooked to perfection the giant slab of beef (basically a roast).  We dominated the food that night more so than the Harlem Globetrotters to the Washington Generals.  Pound after pound was cut off the hunk of meat and we downed it all.  Suddenly Hector had to leave and we realized that there was still a pot full of baked potatoes in the stove.  For dessert we each ate about 4 potatoes.

The next 2 days were spent in the leisurely fashion that one would expect young bachelors to spend their days: sleeping in, eating, fishing (still no luck), rough housing, carousing, hiking, talent shows, bedazzling, scrapbook parties, and the usual hopscotch tournaments.  Seriously, all we would do was fail at fishing and eat the food either Hector or his papa would bring, whether it be sausage, pork, bread, coffee, or onions.  One exciting thing we did was hike up a really steep mesa-like mountain that was just across the road.  It didn’t look that hard from the base but as we went up we had to bull our way through bamboo and bushes since there was no path.  It was quite an experience as we picked and smashed our way through the brush on a very steep slope.  The view from the top sure was worth the climb and the cuts.

Thursday we decided it was time to leave the comfort of all that Hector provided for us.  We headed into to town for our final meal with Hector.  Of course he had pasta, tomatoes, and fruit to see us off.  To repay all of his hospitality we gave him a watermelon and bought a belt buckle and a batman sticker for the car.  Seemed fair to me.  We headed south to cross the border into Argentina at Rt 65 and Rt 45.  The internet said that it was a minor highway.  I’m not sure that minor highway is the correct word.  It should have been more aptly labeled “a rock quarry filled with filled with granite too large to for the Stonehenge”.  After bumping and cracking along Rt 65 for a while a sign told us that we were coming to some sort of important area.  I assumed that this was the border.  We came up to 2 small buildings and a gate (somewhat like something you would see at a parking garage) that was clearly open.  I got out and knocked on the doors to the buildings but they were clearly as vacant as anything in Detroit.  Thinking that there must be something further down the road at what I was assuming would be the actual border.  We bumped along for a while longer with nothing to be seen but the strangely desert landscape of the Argentinean Patagonia. We finally saw another car coming our way and I think we were both surprised there was another car we both stopped.  They were Argentineans who spoke English.  We asked them if they knew anything about the border and we realized we were in Argentina.  We were ILLEGALS!  What a thrill!  Also, here is a hint to any smuggler in Argentina or Chile…USE THE RT. 65 RT. 45 BORDER AT 4:30 ON A THURSDAY BECAUSE APPARENTLY NO ONE IS AT THE BORDER CROSSING THEN!  Not quite sure what to do, we headed on into the town of Perito Moreno to find a place to sleep and figure out what to do about our visas and passports.  The thrill of being illegals was so high in the car we were contemplating doing some serious crimes because we technically didn’t exist in Argentina and it couldn’t be traced back to us.  Alas, we didn’t do anything except maybe some minor traffic violations.  We got into town and the tourist information office informed us that no hostels or cabins were vacant in the town.  They also called the border and told us that if we went to the border town Los Antiugos.  We drove there that night and found a cabin for the night.  I was pretty concerned when at the edge of town there was a police checkpoint and the man asked for all of our passports.  Thankfully all he wanted was our passport numbers and didn’t check to see if we had legally crossed the border.

Friday we headed to the border crossing hoping to get things figured out.  Andrew and I told a confused young lady what happened in our broken Spanish and she immediately told her superior.  I was happy to see that we caused a conference of 4 people in a back room to decide what should be done.  Stuff like that just makes you feel important.  Finally, they came back and told us that we needed to got the Chilean border to get our exit stamps and exit document for the car.  So we crossed back into Chile unsure if 2 illegal border crossing cancel each other out or not.  We explained what happened to a helpful Chilean and he seemed to really get a kick out of all of it.  We got the documents and stamps for both countries with ease and started heading south to get to Chalten.  Chalten is the town where we planned to start our Mt. Fitz Roy trek from.  Unfortunately the road down there is half paved and half gravel (possibly another rock quarry).  We drove the rest of the day in utter wilderness, seeing only the occasional car, guanacos (basically lamas),  and large birds I believe to be emus.  Running really low on gas we pulled into an estancia (ranch) that advertised camping.  The man said he would also sell us some gas.  It was fairly bare compared to the verdant valleys of the Carretera Austral but I was still very thankful for it.

Saturday we continued on the road south and finally got to Chalten.  It’s a cool town that seems to be comprised completely of hikers.  We’re staying in a hostel and Sunday we’re starting a 4 or 5 day hike to see the Mr. Fitz Roy and the surrounding land.  There are a lot of glaciers and rugged peaks.  I am incredibly excited for the adventure.  I guess Thursday or so I’ll figure out who won the Super Bowl.  Go 49ers!

P.S.  Thank you for all your prayers.  We have seen God work in every day and it has been an incredible blessing.  Please also continue prayer for Pedro Sandoval as he continues to battle cancer.