Road trip with Dad - day 1

Last week I had the opportunity to travel to Mt. Shasta, California to visit a client [and now friend] to climb, learn to fly fish, take some pictures, and get to know each other. Originally Jim was going to come along, but his work schedule is tight and he had to bail. As Craig [my client] is a fly fishing guide, I started thinking my dad might really enjoy going with me. Sure enough, he was game and we took off on Tuesday.
The plan was to drive from Portland to Ashland the first day, with a detour to take us past Crater Lake. The drive ended up being much longer than planned, but our luck prevailed and we narrowly dodged the Royce Butte wildfire (the road was closed 5 minutes after we passed), falling trees, and a lightening storm on our side trip. We arrived safely in Ashland a couple hours later than planned, but had a great meal at the Black Sheep Pub [a discovery on last year's road trip with Jim], and topped it off with a Guinness float. Naturally, I took a lot of photos...
There will be more photos and details to come...

Fitz Roy or bust!

At 7 AM we began the hike from the cabaña to the base of Fitz Roy. Its only 12km to the camp, and we had no trouble getting there. We have a filter so there’s no need to carry a lot of water in this area with its numerous lakes and streams. Actually, we didn’t even need the filter (except to remove some silt) since the water is less than a mile from a pristine glacier and quite potable. It was quite possibly the best tasting water we’ve ever experienced.


Camp was set among many other travelers from across the globe (French, Italian, German, Dutch, English, Hebrew, Spanish was overheard), a short nap and then another hike, out of boredom. It’s amazing how many days fit into 24 hours when the daylight last 18 hours! We headed out to explore, do some bouldering and find the trailhead that leads further up the mountain for the next day’s adventure.




The hiking was spectacular. The winds are always fierce; blowing all along the hike up to 50 mph in gusts that could make you skips a few steps – which is fun when you’re crossing a tiny log bridge. Thankfully, the camp is set up under some trees. Whenever you want water, you simply need to scoop it out of a nearby stream. The lakes and smaller lagunas are bluer than sky from the pure water and fine silt from the glacier melt. The camp was good, although the latrine was overused. The camp hosts were giant “caracara” falcons common to the area.


At 4:30 AM the next morning, we left camp, taking just one daypack to hike above the tree line into the snow and glacier zone. The trail is steep, rising 500 meters in only 2 km. I explored the area while Hanmi waited for good photos of sunrise and few clouds. There was only one other person around, although there’s evidence at the climber hut of several parties attacking the summit.


We didn’t see anyone else until the hike down to our own base camp, when many of the “early hikers” were panting up the trail, asking about how much further. Not far is the best answer one can give.


After a quick nap we packed and hiked back out, down to the town again (about 3 hours) to pick up the car and find a place to eat and sleep. The routine repeats and we end up in some fairly nice rooms, although a bit musty. It seems common in Patagonia for the rooms to be built to withstand the incessant winds, but suffer from a lack of ventilation at the same time. The windows open and the entire room’s air in exchanged in about 3 seconds, but the musty backdrop is always around due to the season when the room stays dormant for months.

After hiking so much (about 25km) we treated ourselves to a big meal of grilled steaks, with lots of beer. Sleep came quickly and before we knew what hit us, it was morning again.

Torres del Paine

In the lake-strewn hills and plains at the base of Torres del Paine, there are just a few winding dirt roads and busloads of tourists seeking one of a handful of hikes in the area. There’s tons of beautiful scenery, wild animals, and beautiful flowers. The mixture changes as you head into the foothills and then into the true mountain range.

We have hiked all day, in hot sun, howling wind, and misting rain. There are not many people who’ve made the final leg of the hike, and the trail maps all suggest this part is suitable only for climbers. We reached the final bluff by scrambling an hour on gigantic boulders, hopping and climbing an unmarked route – everyone took a different position so that dislodging a loose stone wouldn’t result in the person behind them getting injured.


The final vista was a bit foggy and rainy. But for the journey, it was all worth it. The peaks are impressive, even shrouded in mist. We turn back and reach camp 3 hours later, for a total trip of about 8 hours covering 22km on foot. We make a quick meal and crash in the tent, laughing with exhaustion that the sun doesn’t set until 11:30 here, and even after that, the sky is quite bright until after midnight.

Into The Wild

This vacation is spectacular. Having Cristian and Vanesa join us is a great idea, since we share our perspectives about everything with each new town and hike. The Patagonian Andes are immense, and our tour only touches a tiny part of them. Even so, that’s enough to appreciate this part of the world. The wildlife is much more abundant than in parks in North America, and very different. The guanacos (llamas) and ñandu (small ostrich-like birds also known as “lesser rhea”) are in herds both near and far from the road. Giant condor circle almost everywhere and rested caracara feast on road kill like crows. Pulling over to have a potty break can be exciting, as you have to watch out for black widow spiders, among other things. Armadillos, hares and foxes hide amongst the scrub-brush, occasionally running across the road. It turns out the ñandu can be just as curious about us as we are about the big bird. When we spotted one close to the road, Han eagerly jumped out of the car, camera in hand, only to realize the strange creature was getting uncomfortably close. She kept one eye on the bird while figuring the distance back to the safety of the car. Once the bird was inside her ‘safety zone’ she broke into a run and hopped back into the passenger seat. The bird looked momentarily confused then went back to grazing.

The flowers are typical for the high dessert, small and tightly bushed. In the foothills and mountains, tiny orchids are everywhere. There are occasional poppies and other plants we can’t identify. The bees are over various black and white patterns. In fact, many of the birds are also black and white as well (geese and condors). We’re not sure about the relation.

The geology is also amazing. The Andes have several millennia of inland sea and volcanic upwelling phases. There are giant banded layers in great arching hills that now fragment to expose ages of green life, then water sediment, then a volcanic ash layer of dramatic change.
There are several petrified forests in the parks and lots of different stone compositions. Some large coral even exists along one of the lakes we encountered, ancient relics from a bygone inland sea.


The stone can be a wide variety, all strewn along a single area from the glacier movement pushing the valleys ever deeper. We walked along granite of many types, peppered with rusted iron compositions that are quite heavy, mixed among sedimentary stones from compressed ash, lime or sand. In total, it’s a geologic adventure as much as anything else.