This will be my last entry, as this trip is at an end. I am home in Montreal with most of my stuff put away. I still have a few things to do to make sure I am ready for next time, but I will get it done bit by bit. Back at work, back at climbing, back at running on the mountain.

Julio has left Puerto Madryn and is now in Buenos Aires from where he will fly to Seattle for his 6 month stay there working for the School of Fisheries.

Rodrigo and Xuxa have not yet made it home. On Saturday, the day Xuxa was to fly off, two days before Rodrigo, an 8.8 earthquake hit Chile, and the airport has been closed since. It will likely still be two or three days before they even know when they can leave. They were lucky, as things are pretty much alright in Santiago. A good part of the south is going through crisis though. Phone lines are down, and I am thankful for the internet, and in particular for facebook, which has allowed me to hear from many of the people I met while in the Malalcahuello region, and know they are alright. But as I write this, many people in Chile are not, and I hope that the country makes it through as well as possible.

Body home, heart in Osorno with Rodrigo and Xuxa

I woke early yesterday morning after sleeping 10 straight hours. The previous day's travel-induced fatigue was gone, I felt very alert, and ready to tackle the mountain of stuff always waiting when I get home after a few weeks away. It was 6am here, 4 am in Chile.

I knew that Rodrigo and Xuxa had planned on going back to Osorno the previous day, meaning that today they would attempt the summit. In my mind, I pictured them awake in their tent, getting ready. I knew they'd plan on being on their way by 5am, and at that time, I was walking with them up to the summit, wondering whether things were snowy, wondering whether they had to use crampons, wondering whether they were roped up already, wondering wondering...

By 10 am, my apartment was a disaster zone. The sink was filled with my thermos, titanium pot, both swiss army knives (yes, I had to buy stuff to replace what I'd forgotten, but I'd taken both my knives!) pee bottle, camelback, ice picks, everything needing a thorough scrub. The bath was filled with both my volcanic-ash mixed-with-salt-mud-and-unidentifiable-muck covered packs and storage bags, gaiters, tent floor etc; there were assorted piles of things all over the living room floor (clean clothes, dirty clothes, duvet stuff needing a wash, goretex stuff needing a wash and treatment) and as I put stuff away, I wrote up a list of what each piece of equipment needed to be functional for next time. I will tick these off in the next couple of weeks, hopefully. But as I kept my hands busy, my mind was still with Rodrigo and Xuxa. If all went well, they would already have summited by now. Did they have good weather? Was the wind awful? Were there nice views? How were they feeling? Was Xuxa over his cold or was he suffering?

On my way to lunch with my good friend Claire, I pictured them walking down, and arriving at their camp. Were they going to break it and walk all the way down or rest there?

It was in the evening that I got the message from Rodrigo from the city of Puerto Montt confirming that they made it up! I was ecstatic for them! And mixed with that, I felt sadness that I wasn't able to take part in it. I walked home from a movie in the slushy mush falling from the sky and splattering everywhere calling itself snow but was still in Patagonia. Of everyone that took part in the course, all are now home except Rodrigo and Xuxa. And nobody but them managed to put in practice what we learned. With their summit somehow came completion, the long rope looped and formed a circle. I was happy and satisfied.

For the time being ;)

Buenos Aires

I arrived in Buenos Aires, rested after sleeping for at least half of the 20 hours, and took a cab straight to Christine's. We only had about 24 hours to spend together and made the most of it, we had a lot of stuff to tell one another, and I was also looking forward to girlie stuff, such as window shopping and silly giggling.

After a great shower (and a silent internal thanks that it was cloudy and therefore not stiffling hot), we were off to lunch, then walking around. On our way back to her appartment, we were treated to a delicious local beer at the restaurant of some friends of Christine's who are from France. We also played a few rounds of shoot the cork in the bucket, which is a lot more fun than it sounds.

As always, the evening flew by, and we went to bed later than we would have wanted. Early the next morning, we did some last minute shopping (I wanted Havaiannah sandals because I only have 94 pairs at home) and had lunch with Javier and Natalia, two biologists whom I met 6 years ago and through whom I met all others. It was great to see them!

And now I am at the airport. I didn't have a chance to put pictures up but will do when I get home. I only have a few minutes left in this country I love so much. I won't be surprised if I come back!

Climbing!!!!

Ricardo and Rodrigo at the top



I spent my last day in Bariloche climbing in Piedras Blancas with the four remaining gang members, Victor having left as well.

With Ricardo, Xuxa, Rodrigo and Simone

It was a lot of fun, and felt amazing to finally be moving upward! It was also hard, as I hadn't climbed in over 6 weeks, and I really felt the lack of strength in muscles specific to what I as doing.



Xuxa's shoes somehow solidified in such a strange shape that putting them on was torture, so he didn't do very much climbing, and after trying, his toes were all white with the cut-off circulation. Good grief!




We froze though, in the Patagonian wind, and I was glad when we went back in town to warmth. Simone and Ricardo came over to the hostal and we all cooked dinner together. I was feeling really tired though, so it was an early night for me. It will feel strange to no longer have Brasilians to speak to now, I will miss it.

I spent the next morning finishing up my bags, then we all had lunch at that vegetarian restaurant we liked so much we went 3 times, and I was off to the bus station for the 20 hour ride to Buenos Aires where I will meet up with Christine before flying home. It's been quite a trip. I never really feel entirely ready to go, but I know that when I get home, I will be happy to be there.

Osorno Volcanoe road trip

Eager to put in practice what we'd learned, the remaining members of the group (Simone, Victor and Ricardo on the one hand, Rodrigo, Xuxa and I on the other) were looking forward to climbing a volcanoe. The first group had chosen Lanin, which, at 3700 metres, is considered more serious stuff. I'd climbed this volcanoe with Marcelo a few years back and it was gorgeous. We chose Osorno. Lower, at less than 2700m, but also more technical, and requiring roped travel up near the summit.

While Xuxa rested trying to get his cold better, Rodrigo and I did the research to get going. Weighing the different options, especially the fact that there was no public transportation directly to the volcanoe, we decided to rent a car for three days which would likely result more economical. We felt that we could drive to the refugio on the first day and walk the two hours to the campground from which we'd attempt the summit the next day, and we'd have an extra day to wait out the weather, coming back in the middle of the night if necessary to get the car back in time.

So, Tuesday evening and Wednesday morning (we had to pick up the car at noon) saw us excitedly getting our bags ready. We wanted to travel light, but honestly, as there was camping involved, the main stuff pretty much stays the same, with only the amount of food making a real difference in weight. A bit before noon, we picked up the car then came back the hostal to get our bags and Xuxa. It was raining. Xuxa was in the back of the car so he could have more space to still rest and try to sleep. We were off! I am not used to car rentals during these kinds of trips and was looking forward to a great deal of things being easier, including border crossings, as we had to go into Chile. Going into Chile also meant we had not been able to get all our food, as we knew anything fresh such as fruit and cheese would get confiscated at the border. We had some, but we had to finish it in the car before crossing.

I haven't spoken much about Rodrigo and Xuxa's friendship. You can probably imagine that traveling for this long with somebody in the close proximity involved when one shares a tent and hostal rooms means you have to get along with the person. They make a really great team, with Rodrigo usually taking the lead, are both very strong and mature, as well as light-hearted and fun loving, and their constant half jokes and light bickering had me in stitches a lot of the time. I never saw them argue or looking annoyed at one another, they were efficient travelers with a positive attitude, patient, flexible, and welcoming of the tag-along I was.

In the car, this became even more apparent. Xuxa, still ill, wasn't much in the mood for anything too demanding (except climbing a volcanoe, of course, but I mean anything too taxing otherwise, such as setting up a tent in the rain) and Rodrigo sometimes pretending to slap him as they'd both accepted that he fell ill because, when we got back from the course, instead of resting and eating properly, he was up most of the night drinking beer. Rodrigo doesn't drink, so he went on about the ravages of alcohol on the body. All done in a funny, amusing way, it made me laugh, they sounded like a married couple. So Xuxa slept, while Rodrigo and I chatted about all sorts of things and got progressively (but quietly) more worried about the weather. We'd asked about the forecast, and it had seemed promising.



A little before getting to the Argentine exit border, we woke Xuxa up to have him eat his share of the cheese and avocado sandwiches he'd prepared, and then, discovering yet another banana, yet another apple, yet another blueberry container, we started seriously stuffing our faces with it all.



We needn't have. Once the formalities of the Argentine customs were through with, it was another 40 minute drive or so before actually entering Chile (in many places, both customs are together, and we'd assumed it would be the case here), and once we got there, a huge line-up made us have to wait. After the line up, it was over an hour before we could get our papers dealt with, as well as the car's, have our bags checked over by a dog, have Rodrigo's dried fruit confiscated (the guy doing the checking must not have known the rules well, it is only fresh fruit you can't take in, but I guess he wanted a taste of the dried kiwis and we didn't want to argue) and go off. By this time, it was raining even harder, and we'd wasted a lot of time in formalities. What we had hoped would be an uneventful 4 hour ride became a 7 hour one and we still had a two hour walk to the campground, which would mean setting up a tent not only in the rain but in the dark.

While we were discussing what road to take (the highway was probably faster, although it made us drive longer, but had tolls and the smaller roads were dirt tracks that we were unsure of our little car being to handle) and the weather came Xuxa's voice. Do you guys mean to tell me we planned this trip to Osorno without anyone checking the weather forecast?? Of course we checked! We called the refugio and talked with the guardaparques, and Leandro checked too and told us. No no no, said Xuxa, did you yourselves check?? Well, no, but we had it checked into. Xuxa rolled his eyes and lay back down while Rodrigo explained that checking had many ways of existing as a concept and I cramped up to tears on my seat at their philosophical bantering. It was the start of another long session of teasing and laughter and joking and my tummy was sore at the end of it.

But first things first, we had no Chilean money, or close to, and wanted an ATM, as well as a store to buy the missing food. Simple enough. Only, it wasn`t. In our wish to avoid the city of Osorno and its expensive highway, we went through towns with a single ATM, and these did not accept our cards. We were able to buy food at a place that accepted credit cards however, and in a bigger town, we went by a huge grocery store where, remembering my own adventure with missing ATMs at the begining of this trip, I asked Rodrigo to stop. We went inside and, marvel of marvels, an ATM that accepted international cards!! We withdrew, and on a whim, I quickly checked to see whether this place sold the pisco that my cousin wanted. They did, I bought two bottles and we were off. I was glad; I'd been considering buying this at the duty free during my Santiago stopover, but it would have been double the price, plus I wasn't sure I wouldn't have had it confiscated due to it being liquid.

We arrived in Puerto Varas,

a beautiful little town by a large lake and fairly close to where we were going, in the rain. We stopped at the tourist office to check morosely on the weather up on the mountain, and once this was done, we had a meeting to decide what to do. Rodrigo was for camping. Xuxa was for not getting wet. I had not anticipated being the person to make the casting vote and preferred that they sort it out, I would follow. We asked around for lodging, but it was expensive. Rodrigo is the one who came up with the compromise in the end; drive around for a bit to try to find informal lodging, and if the price was right, stay there. We found a place in a house, and rented one room with two beds, which was a lot cheaper than renting 3 beds. The beds weren't that big, and I certainly had no problems with sharing one (I've done that often enough, especially in Germany where it seems to be common and no cause for concern of any kind) but knowing that Brasilians aren't quite so comfortable with the concept, I felt pretty sure they'd prefer sharing a bed themselves.



I was wrong, they did not want to share at all and Xuxa chose the floor! We got some hot water, ate our freeze-dried food as if we'd been camping, debated how to go about things the next day (or rather, Rodrigo and I did, Xuxa was engrossed in a soccer game on tv) and went to sleep.

The next day seemed less miserable. It had rained during the night, but things were drying, and, it seemed to me, the sky wasn't as dark. We got ready and left under the incredulous eyes of our the person whose house we stayed in, who really couldn't believe we wanted to go up the volcanoe.

Oh, by the way, I've forgotten to mention, the lake where we were normally affords beautiful views of the volcanoe apparently reflecting off its waters. We went all around the lake and drove by many panoramic stops, but had not yet actually seen volcanoe Osorno, as it was all wrapped up in thick fog and rain.

So, we drove to the refugio, it seemed like the best place to get precise information and make a final decision on what to do next. It took a couple of hours. The refugio is pretty high úp, together with a ski lift and small resort. When we got there, it was pouring, the fog was so thick the Everest could have been there and we wouldn't have known it, and general hilarity had taken over our disappointed in the car. In the raging wind that was blowing up here and that we could hear quite distinctly with the engine off, Rodrigo said it was too bad, he really did feel like climbing a volcanoe, and Xuxa said yes, I still want to climb it, just let me know where it might be. We ran in to have something warm to drink. And there on the wall were pictures of the gorgeous, perfect- coned volcanoe on whose skirts we were actually stepping. That was our only glimpse of it.



Our visit with the guardaparque was wonderful. Ivan would likely have kept us all day, he was in a chatty mood, but there was no way he was letting us up, there was no point. And wouldn't be for at least 2 but more likely 3 more days. We got lots of great information from him though, and the guys were already planning on maybe coming back next week. I listened on regretfully, wishing I could take part.

We decided to drive back. There was no point hanging around.

On the drive back, both Xuxa and I fell asleep. At one point, feeling sun on my face, I woke up excitedly, all ready to tell Rodrigo to turn back, it was going to be possible after all! But he had read my mind, and with a slightly exasperated smile for the weather, pointed to where we were told the volcanoe was. There, the clouds were just as thick and dark as ever. I almost did turn back without even waking you guys up, he said.

And it didn't last, it started to rain again pretty soon.

We made a stop to try to help some people who'd flipped their car into a ditch and were now sunk deep in mud. We got a kick out of the fact that this was the only use our ice picks got.

We also made a stop to buy cheese and eat, then decided to cross the border and stay in Villa Angostura. It was, however, ridiculously expensive, even camping, and we made it back to Bariloche at about 23h. We had a quick meal and thought that since we still had the car for another day, maybe we could do something the next day. We crossed our fingers for nice weather.

We'd received messages from Simone, Victor and Ricardo. Their own trip to Lanin was also rained out, and they were back too. We planned to meet the next day to go climbing if the weather was nice. It would be my own last day.

If there is one thing I want to remember from these couple of days, it is the absolute power of laughter. And despite the disappointment of not being able to do any climbing whatsoever, I would not trade these two days of good humour and jovial atmosphere with two amazing people for anything. I will miss Rodrigo and Xuxa.

Back in Bariloche

Late last night should have seen us sleeping in our tents, in bed early for an early rise to the summit of Osorno. But rather than that, we trudged back to Bariloche, rained out. It is raining over the entire region, with no visibility. Simone, Victor and Ricardo had gone to Lanin to make an attempt there and waited 3 days for nothing. The weather forecast sucks until I leave... but I really hope that Rodrigo and Xuxa make it up something, whether Lanin or Osorno. In the meantime, we are crossing our fingers to be able to at least do a bit of rock climbing today. I leave tomorrow. Later today I'll relate our road trip.

Resting in Bariloche

Today was the second day we spent resting here, washing clothes and having meals with whoever of the 11 people who took the course is still around. Xuxa is nursing a cold.

Tomorrow, we were supposed to go rock climbing, but we've convinced ourselves to go climb a volcanoe instead, so that is what we will do. We rented a car and are driving to Osorno to attempt the summit. If all goes well, we will be back in Bariloche Saturday at the latest. And then... time to go!

Monte Tronador (Day 9, last day)

I forgot to mention that Xuxa and Rodrigo never made it to their tent. They heard of a snow cave that was built close by and decided to sleep in that instead. This worried Maximo and Nativo somewhat, and at 6h30, Nativo showed up at the cave's entrance with breakfast to wake them up and make sure that nothing had caved in and killed them. They were at once annoyed (they like to sleep as late as possible) and thankful, and it was hilarious to see them come back with that mixture of emotions on their faces.

The morning was devoted to breaking camp and leaving. Goodbye mountains and glaciers, super refugio staff and Mauricio. I turned my back to it all with a great deal of nostalgia.


With Josias, a last view on Monte Tronador


With most of my food eaten and my climbing rope in somebody else's load, I was able to manage my two bags for the hour it took to walk down the rocky way to where the horses would pick up my big bag. Then it was a swift 2.5 hours back to where the bus would take us. I got there an hour early, and decided to have a quick shower (did it ever feel wonderful!) before we left. Aaaaaah!

Back in Bariloche, we all parted ways with plans to have dinner together later. We had a lively evening, with only Maximo (who was with his family) and Lucas missing. We all made outrageous travel plans and drank local beer and heard more of Nativo's fascinating stories. I can't relate them all here, it would take forever, but you can go on you tube, type nativo and nos (knots) and you should be able to see him.



I fell in bed at about 1 am and never heard Xuxa come in 3 hours later. The three of us are sharing a room at the hostel. Tomorrow, sleeeeeeep!

Monte Tronador (day 8)

It was nearly 7am by the time we all were finished with breakfast in the refugio. The rain had stopped, the wind was still howling, and we were putting on harnesses and checking on last minute things to get going. The morning was bright, if cold.



We set off to the snowfield, and when we got to the glacier, we stopped to put on crampons and rope up. The guides all roped up on one rope (mine) in order to be able to be more mobile and be able to get to anyone that needed help quickly. This gave them a great deal of autonomy and swiftness. I was on a 4-person team with Rodrigo, Xuxa and Emerson on Rodrigo's rope.
He was leader of our rope team, as he loves being able to be as independent as possible, and Emerson was second, as he is the strongest and best able to pull Rodrigo (the most likely to fall into a crevasse, being first) out. I was last. The other 7 separated into a 3 person and 4 person team.

Walking roped up is weird, at once constrictive, since you have to walk at the same pace as the person in front of you, stopping as soon as they do to avoid creating slack in the rope but keeping up, and also isolating, since, through the necessity of creating space between each person (no slack in the rope is what keeps you safe in case someone falls through) means you walk alone. Add the wind to the equation, and that means that any communication has to be yelled from one person to the next down the four rope teams, and that is the way our instructions traveled anytime one of the guides had something they needed to tell us.



We started off through one glacier, the same that we would have traveled to go to the summit. Mauricio was leader of his team, being the most familiar with glaciers in general and these in particular. We followed, with the other two teams behind us. We started climbing up and up a progressively steeper snow hill that was covered in a layer of ice after last night's rain. As I walked up, I realised the importance of remaining alert. There seemed to be no possibility of self-arrest on this much ice, which meant that avoiding falling was primordial. I stepped decidedly and carefully and made sure that, at any time, I had at least two anchor points: one foot and my ice tool. The view on the approaching mountain was amazing, and I stole a few glances.


We forked right before beginning the climb though, and went down to another glacier, this one called Frias. Unlike the other glaciers here, the way it faces means its waters travel all the way to the Atlantic Ocean rather than the Pacific. As it snowed a great deal this season, most crevasses were closed and invisible to us, and even someone as experienced and knowledgeable as Mauricio fell into one twice. Thankfully, both times it was only his leg that went through to his hip, and he was able to pull himself out alone. He used a variety of techniques to see things, including lying down along crevasses to feel inside of them with his hands. We watched and waited for his thumbs up before following in anywhere, at both wary and thrilled.

Gusts of wind also broke through to us, and it was impressive to see the people ahead of us get blown down by the strength of it, a wave traveling quickly to us. It gave us warning to brace ourselves, and a couple of times I simply threw myself down, ice tool firmly in the ice and firmly in my hands, as the wind tried to pick me off the surface and blow me away.

The head team, our three teachers, making their way between two huge crevasses. Traveling along a big one usually means it's fairly safe, as it is unlikely there will be another big one close by.

Since what is important is that the rope be perpendicular to the crevasses, we sometimes traveled one behind the other, and sometimes one beside the other, with the rope extended across the crevasses.
We often saw them at the last minute, much later than our teachers did. It emphasized how much we still had to learn

On our way down, approaching mid-day, the sun stared melting the snow, and it became difficult to advance. I often sunk to my hips and slid all over the place, with my companions doing little better. It was very tiresome, and we really got very warm doing that. It made obvious why most summits are attempted in the middle of the night, when the snow is solid enough to allow for cleaner travel than this sloppy sliding all over the place and sinking and falling, flaying from side to side. The guides looked fine, but I felt sure the rest of us were as inelegant as it is possible to be and not turn penguin.

We made a stop for lunch in a fairly safe place.

With Mauricio, Nativo and Maximo
We stayed roped-up and sat with our team members, each team a bit apart. Each team put in a snow stake, just in case. We ate quickly and drank warm tea. Stopping too long wouldn't do, we'd get too cold.
After 15 minutes we were off again, but as the snow was so mushy, we removed our crampons, which was lucky for Emerson; his had broken a bit earlier, and he had only been walking with one.
Rodrigo unsuccessfully trying to get Emerson's crampon back on.


We crested another hill and had to dis-rope to get through some rocky parts before having to go up a truly steep hill where we had to practice some other things we'd learned. Then we started off on the third and last glacier, Alerces. This one seemed a bit easier, but tired as I was, I felt it mentally demanding and looked forward to it ending. It led us back to our campground, where we all dis-roped again and felt wonderful about this amazing day that had taught us so much.

We felt elated, but also a bit sad. This was the end, although we weren't down yet. We were now on our own, launched into the open.

We hugged and backs were slapped, we made plans to have dinner together at the refugio rather than cooking, and spent a great evening going over things, sharing stories that it would take a book to relate. Maximo and Nativo were with us, and we enjoyed every minute.

I slept like a log this last night up on the mountain. As always. I didn't want to go, didn't feel quite ready to face ¨civilization¨again. But the group was already disbanding, making exciting plans. The cohesion has to be broken so that everyone can go home.

Monte Tronador (Day 7)

Our group tents, from left: Josias, Lucas, Emerson and Argentine Sergio. I had my back to my own tent for this picture.

Xuxa's tent with Rodrigo. They were behind mine.

My tent, with Monte Tronador visible.

It was relaxed getting ready this morning. The meeting place was our rocky outcrop, since most of us were camped there. Nativo and Maximo went over a few things that we still hadn't covered, we practiced knots again, and went over logistics for the following day. We'd be meeting at 3am for a quick breakfast in the refugio itself (with those whose habit it was to eat their own food exceptionally being allowed to eat it there directly) and then departure in the night. We all felt the anticipation.


A windy Monte Tronador

At the end of our morning of reviewing information, Maximo had us all sit down and talked to us about summit day. It was a really simple and also a really important speech, and I don't think I will forget it. He started by talking about his own days as a young climber, how he wanted to climb everything and as quickly as possible. With his usual amusing way of describing things and telling stories, he made us see the impatient youngster he'd been who'd nearly fallen over half dead from too much haste and too little acclimatization, and how a really old man (he said laughing, explaining that this really old man was about as old as he was now, somewhere in his early fifties) had helped him and thanks to him, brought him to the summit. Start as an old man, the saying goes, and you'll arrive as a young one. We listened. Don't let summit blindness get you, he said. It's not the point. Many of you may think the summit is the most important part of this course; it's not. For us, the most important part is over; it was making sure you guys learned what you did. The summit is only a bonus. Now that you've got the basic knowledge, go practice it and find your own summits.

This speech left me strangely calm. The anxiety for the next day left me. It was true. The purpose is the journey, not just where you are trying to arrive. This was a beginning, not at end. We'd been experiencing really fantastic things, and would keep doing so, if we wanted, but we had to be open to them, not just focused on a point.

We separated to eat lunch. As this is really quick for me as I only need hot water while most others actually cook, I took the opportunity to wash my hair. After a week, my scalp was disagreeably itchy. I'd left my 3 litre camelback full of water on a rock in the sun, and the water had turned lukewarm, allowing for a comfortable scrub. My hair dried very quickly in the sun and wind.

In the afternoon, Rodrigo and I took my rope to a place where Nativo had shown us we could hang it and practice the things we'd had a rough time with the day before, that of getting ourselves out alone. I, personally, completely lost in my translation errors, had absorbed a great deal less of it as I might have wished, so I was eager to practice. So, hanging down from some rocks and pretending to be in a crevasse, I went over the techniques.

It took some time, but I finally got it. Nativo came over to talk us through it, and soon, almost the entire group was there too. So much for our afternoon off, we still wanted more! But eventually I left to get my bag ready. It was getting cool too, the sky turning cloudier by the minute.

After dinner, instead of going to bed at 20h as I had planned, I went to the refugio to soak up the group atmosphere. The wind started to pick up, and it started to... rain!! Up here, the rain is really cold, a couple of degrees more and it might have snowed instead.

When I went to bed, I lay tossing and turning forever. The alarm was set for 2h30, and I slept very little in those few hours. I kept on listening to the raging wind and beating rain. In my feverish dreams, the person ahead of me fell in a crevasse and I successfully stopped the fall, and then my mind would go blank and I didn't know what to do anymore. I would turn around to ask the 3rd, and that person had fainted. The harness dug into my back, my butt froze from being on the snow and my legs shook from the effort of arresting the fall alone, but I still didn't know what to do. I'd wake up, it was only 20 minutes later, the wind was still raging like crazy and the rain pelting the tent. Another toss in the tent, it felt like the whole thing would pick up with me in it and fly me over the mountain. Sleep was impossible. Even Josias' snores were inaudible.

At 2h30, my alarm went off. I stuck my head out of my tent, let out a loud yell, loud enough to be heard over the screeching of the wind. Everyone answered me. We'd agreed on this, making sure no one was left alone in their tent to only an alarm, but that we'd have a group wake up call. I popped my head back in and started getting dressed. I didn't get very far. Maximo was doing the rounds of the tents, it was much too windy, still too rainy, although it was dying down. The summit was clouded over. Go back to sleep until 6h, he said, then we'll leave.

As soon as he said that, I knew that the summit was no longer an option, not with leaving that late. They would take us to do something else. That was fine. It would be another day of learning, a last opportunity to take what they shared with us. I lay back, and for those 3 hours, slept deeply.

Monte Tronador (Day 6)

Xuxa and I fooling around testing out knot solidity.

After having a restful day yesterday (at least, physically, as we still absorbed a lot of information), today was more demanding. We left with our gear to the glacier that we had been self-arresting by the day before, but this time, roped up and attentive, we walked unto it.


It was a fairly short walk, the purpose being to find a suitable spot to practice getting ourselves and others out of crevasses. Maximo soon found it. Reading the colour and shape of the ice and snow, he found us a place large enough for practice and marked the perimeter that we could safely walk in. It was between two crevasses, one large enough in size to allow for practicing.

We un-roped, and learned the necessary steps to get the lead person out if they fall in, and how to get ourselves out as well. Three ropes were set up to do this, with another one for safety. This was in case somebody didn't react quickly enough and let us fall in too far (to stop the person from falling in, you have to throw yourself down on the snow with your ice pick to stop the fall; if you don't, you go in too). We're still learning, after all, and none of this comes automatically, we all have to stop and think. We took turns being the person to fall in (which, although we knew it was safe with the mechanism that Maximo and Nativo set up, is particularly impressive; one does not willingly look down into a crevasse and let oneself fall into it without some heart palpitations), being the person behind that person and doing what is necessary to get them out, and being the third person assisting the second.

Two groups rotated on these, then another rope was to get ourselves out alone, using an intricate combination of ropes to create a sort of ladder to climb out when using ice picks isn't possible (such as when you've lost it, or you are hanging in nothing, with no wall to climb up).



With Mauricio guiding me through the rescue part.


Brasilian Sergio being rescued.

We worked really hard. We now had the benefit of 3 guides, as Mauricio was also with us, so we got a lot of personal attention from him and Maximo, while Nativo was with us for the solo part.
He must have thought I was real dim-witted at one point, because, as tiredness started to take over, it seems my Portuguese got really bad, and when he told me to ¨puxar a corda¨(pull the rope, but puxar is pronounced pushar) I kept trying to push it instead of pulling it. Duh. I was never gonna get myself out of that crevasse due to a linguistic failure. He finally burst out laughing and somehow this set everything back in place and I finally understood.



We spent the entire day at it, but it felt like only a couple of hours. We took no eating break. When I let myself fall into the crevasse, knowing I'd be hanging there for a good 15 minutes at least, I brought some food with me and ate while the circulation in my legs got caught off from the harness. I am definitely going to buy a comfortable, large harness for this kind of stuff. I left mine with Sophie because it won't fit over warm clothes, while hers is adjustable, but it is also not padded and I felt the difference.

The temperature was good. It was windy, especially high up, which created a great deal of temperature changes depending on whether the sun was covered or not. When it wasn't, I felt the heat blasting from the snow surface and trying to burn through my skin and eyes. I'd only brought my category 3 sunglasses, and they weren't enough; tomorrow, I wouldn't make that same mistake! But my category 4 glasses tinge everything yellow and I hate that. When the sun disappeared, we froze.

At the end of the day, sore, exhausted and terribly happy with our progress, we roped back up and trudged to the refugio. The guides let a roped team lead (ours, in this case, with Rodrigo leading the team) through the crevasses. Rodrigo spoke his decisions out loud, checking with Mauricio that his reasoning was safe.

I was soon settled in the refugio with another hot chocolate, but dinner beckoned, I was famished! That evening, everyone seemed to naturally proceed to the warmth of the refugio after eating, and we spent a good time talking and laughing. Tomorrow was another easy day, with review in the morning, then the afternoon off to get ready for our big day: the summit.

It was another perfect, starry night. I again sat on the rock outside, headlight off, to just stare into the sky and drink it in. The wind was just enough to be a reminder that this was a mountain, but if felt really soft against my face as I let the tiredness push me into the tent.

Monte Tronador, Day 5

Early morning fog with the barely visible refugio.

This was our first day of practicing more serious stuff on a more potentially dangerous surface. It was bright and sunny, but cold in the morning. I will take cold over rain any time, and this was very welcome.

With Maximo in the early morning cold, and Monte Tronador in the background.

Physically, it was a pretty easy day, Maximo and Nativo were obviously giving us a break after the grueling day yesterday.

Nativo



In the morning, they took us to a small snowfield on a hill a few minutes away from the campground (a rocky outcrop in the middle of a snowfield) to practice self arrest techniques. This involves pretending you are falling and then learning to stop your fall. The glacier itself was a bit further, but we didn't go on it today.


Then, they showed us how to correctly test snow in order to see what the probability of an avalanche is. This was really interesting and led to a lot of discussions about avalanches and accidents.

We stopped for lunch at 14h00 and by this time, with the sun reflecting off the snow, it got really warm. The break was supposed to be short, but as I sat close to my tent eating (with a view of the refugio close by) I saw a string of all my companions and also the teachers coming out of the refugio with their bags. It turns out that over 50 people were expected that night (the guardaparques radio in to say how many people to expect, and if anyone doesn't make it up, they start a search, so you have to sign in at both ends), and with a capacity for 40 people, that meant that whoever could camp would likely prefer that to sharing very cramped sleeping quarters. So our lonely little outcrop got cozy with Josias, Emerson, Lucas and Argentine Sergio setting up in the spaces in front of ours. The guides and Simone, Victor and Ricardo set up in another rocky outcrop after the next snowfield. Brasilian Sergio would be staying in the refugio with his girlfriend.

In the afternoon, we learned to find people buried by an avalanche, and then practiced knots.

Nativo is a true expert at this. He manages to do just about anything in fewer movements than can be imagined, and with gloves on.

We looked pretty silly in light shirts (it was still really hot) and huge gloves, trying to imitate him. Maximo and Nativo share the teaching load, each speaking in turn depending on the subject, so we get the full impact of their own region of expertise which is really great, and their obvious passion is very contagious. They make a really complete, efficient team. I also saw Mauricio tonight, the same guide I met the previous two times I was here and who guided me with another person to Punto Condores last year. Some of the staff at the refugio is also the same and recognized me, which was really really nice. Last year, there had been a storm, which meant the guardaparques below had not let anyone come up, and once the people who were there went down, the refugio was almost empty of clients except for me. The staff had made a truly delicious chocolate fondue to which they'd invited me. Very fun! So Mauricio is here and is to join in teaching us tomorrow afternoon. His area of expertise is glaciers, and he works here in Monte Tronador, guiding different excursions.


After dinner with the guys, which is very easy as we all have freeze-dried food that only requires hot water, I got my bag ready for tomorrow (after an easy day today, tomorrow will be more demanding) and then didn't want to turn in. The evening stayed surprisingly warm, and with the setting sun, the stars started to appear. I sat outside on a rock by my tent. A few tents over, Josias started to snore. I could hear Emerson and Sergio fidgeting in theirs. Sergio was probably putting in his earplugs. There was no wind, you could hear everything. The sky turned black only after 22h00, and I sat there, looking at it. The first time I saw this clear a southern sky, I was amazed that I recognized nothing, not one star. The southern hemisphere sky is, obviously, different from the northern hemisphere. No big or small dipper here, no north star. But now I did recognize a few. The southern sky has become familiar.

I had to force myself to go to bed, but I left the door open, and as sleep overcame me, I tried to open my lids one last time to take the stars to the world of dreams with me.

Monte Tronador, Day 4 (Feb 9th)

Our bus was to pick us up at 11am, and in the morning, it started to rain again. I started packing away my stuff while still in the tent, not an easy task considering that my tent is very small and that this expedition involves a ton of gear and food. I put everything I could in my big pack, then also filled the smaller one. Both of those were going to go on the horses, and we'd be going up with just water, some warmer clothes, and anything that could hurt the horses (such as ice picks). We also left some stuff that would be staying below, such as any gear that we had more than was necessary of, which we'd manage to determine during the two previous days. For me, that meant my walking ice pick, some carabiners, a pair of crampons. I also left a change of clothes for the return. I was pretty sure I'd appreciate that another 6 days down the road. And, of course, I left my running gear. I'd brought it hoping to be able to run at this low camp, since there was a road. The two things that stopped me were the fact that I couldn't wash (with the weather, getting in the freezing river with no sun to warm me up after was not at all interesting to me) and also the days being really long and tiring, allowing little time or energy for running before or after.

Everyone left the tent for last, hoping that it would stop raining. It poured even harder, and we had to put them away soaking wet. Apart from the fact that this is aggravating and not good for them, it makes them a great deal heavier to carry. The bus arrived at 11h20 and found us huddling under the trees, wet and miserable. We brought the gear in, soaking the seats and floor. It was only about 15 minutes to Pampa Linda, where we left the big bags with the horses (can you imagine the smell of wet bags on a horse?), and went in to the refugio to warm up with hot chocolates and have a quick lunch. It stopped raining then, the sun came out, and we managed to start the climb up in good weather, with a beautiful view of Monte Tronador, very welcome sight!

The first 4 hours were easy. It's a hefty climb (1200 meters above where we were) and therefore tiring, but an easy trail through a forest that protected us from the wind, and we went up in small groups, passing one another when anyone took breaks, laughing and chatting. But then we got to the part I dreaded; the part that was impossible for the horses (it would have been fine for mules, but there are none here), where we had to pick everything up ourselves. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to manage two big bags weighing a good 35kg together over the rocky terrain.

I was right. I'd gone 5 minutes when I put my smaller bag down and decided to come back for it later. But the guys wouldn't let me. Josias took my bag and tried the impossible; carrying 3 bags over rocky terrain. He laughed, saying it was training anyway (he is a firefighter) but then, the bags prevented us from seeing where we put our feet, and it got tiresome really quickly. Ricardo and Emerson came to the rescue. They each had much huger big bags than I, so they had no little one, and they shared one among themselves, carrying it for a bit then giving it over when they got tired.

And tired, we got that very quickly! This part is very exposed, out of the forest and very windy, a great deal colder (it actually started to snow lightly as we set out) and very rocky, often necessitating the use of hands for firm grasps. We were gasping in no time, and I, knowing it would get worse just before reaching the refugio, was already mentally drained. Just my own big load was enough to have me cringing. I kept telling the guys not to worry, to just leave my bag, I'd come back for it. But they wouldn't hear of it and 19h00 saw us stagger unto the flatter area where the small refugio is situated, and I rushed in to warm up. I was only wearing a light shirt (it was too warm, with that heavy load, for more, but as soon as I stopped I froze) and wanted to change.

A hot chocolate and quick snack that Josias and I had together did wonders to restore body heat and also energy, and before it could get dark, I went to set up my tent in the spot that Rodrigo and Xuxa had picked close to their own. I thought if I didn't do it now, I wouldn't. Apart from us 3, everyone decided to sleep in the refugio that night and set up the next day. It was tempting but...

The tent was soaking wet and the most amazing thing occurred as I was setting it up; it froze in less than a minute because of how cold it was, and then with a vigorous shake, became completely dry. Great!! A wet tent is a dreadful thing to look forward to. But the rocky ground prevented the stakes from going in, despite my having an ice tool with a hammerhead, and so setting thing up was slow as it required maneuvering a lot of rocks to use instead of stakes, and making sure everything was wind proof. Which, in such an exposed area, means practically bomb proof! I was very thankful for taking this much care later on. My tent stayed pretty much put through the wicked wind that blasted everything in the next few days.

Eating was wonderful and restorative. Rodrigo, Xuxa and I ate in their tent. Everyone was pooped. This climb up was the only part that I'd been scared of, however, and having reached the top, I knew the rest would be fine, I'd manage. I should be able to eat through all of 5 days' worth of food, which would mean I could handle my own stuff for the return.

I went back to the refugio before going to bed and chatted with other group members. I hardly took any pictures today so will have to wait for somebody else's before I put any up. This is the only nice one:

With Argentine Sergio, Josias and Victor


Getting in my warm bag in that cold weather was wonderful, and I am pretty sure I heard nothing that night!

Monte Tronador, Day 3 (Feb 8th)

Our second day at Ventisquero Negro went by pretty much as the first did. We walked to the same wall, with very light bags as we'd left everything there. After practicing what we had learned on the previous day, we learned some new things and incorporated those.

A highlight was learning how to group travel doing a traverse, which involved setting a rope up diagonally across the wall, with appropriate knots, and traveling by climbing up along it, then rapeling down, learning to do it safely. For this part, we had to use all the techniques we'd learned, like setting up ice screws properly, knots etc, and we were happy to see that it worked, as a few people did fall, but nobody got hurt. Feeling more and more comfortable is a wonderful feeling, and by the end of the day, my crampons and ice picks felt like extensions of my body as opposed to tools, I was one with them, and that felt good.

The day ended with another highlight; Maximo ahead and Nativo behind, we actually entered the glacier and traveled up and down the walls on our way to as close to the beginning of it as we could safely do (closer and we would have been at risk of getting some tons of falling glacier on our heads).

This involved all techniques learned, with Maximo guiding us to which were most suitable for which parts, and our progress was obvious. It was over an hour and a half of walking and climbing in this manner, but at the end of it, I felt I could have gone on for hours, it was so much fun, and so amazing to feel so in control. Only when we left did I realize that that much concentration is also very tiring.





As this was our last day here, we packed up and walked back to camp where we hurried to cook before it got dark. We were even livelier and chattier than the evening before, entirely still on the adrenalin rush of that wonderful glacier travel experience. Xuxa and I had brought wine to share (Rodrigo doesn't drink) and cooked together, which was the plan for the days at this campground.

It was my turn to do the dishes however, and this is when disaster struck. I went to the river and started by rinsing things first then scouring them. Rodrigo's plate, a new one he got only a couple of weeks ago, is very light and made of rubber. It was also slippery, and the current of the river pulled it right out of my fingers, and in my desire to get it back, I ran after it in the river and got my boots full of water. Fuck! Rodrigo's only plate! Xuxa doesn't even have one, he eats out of his pot like I do. I came back to the dining area, wet and feeling like shit. I would replace the plate, of course, but I couldn't do that before the course was over.

Rodrigo's reaction reminded me a lot of Julio's when I broke his car. He started laughing and said no problem, then seeing my face laughed some more and told me no big deal, relax. He wanted to see where I'd lost it to see whether it was retrievable, and I showed him. It was dark by now, and we couldn't even send the bend in the river close by. The current must have taken it kilometres down by now. I walked back to camp while he decided to go down a bit further.

Five minutes later he was back saying he thought he could see it but would need help retrieving it. By this time, everyone had been laughing about the plate story. More than eager to get it back, I followed Rodrigo and Josias came along as well.

We could see something red among some tree branches in the middle of the river. As this place is prone to mud slides and the such, the river is full of upturned trees. I immediately saw a way of climbing along the fallen trees back up to the plate and jumped on a trunk immediately while Rodrigo and Josias were still discussing how best to go about it. Perhaps it was the wine, but I felt it would be so easy! And it actually was, in less than two minutes I'd gone over about 3 trunks and was lying on one of them right above the river and was able to plunge my arm down to retrieve the plate (being careful, now that I knew how slippery the damned thing is) and held it victoriously over my head, climbing back and was happy out of all proportion with getting it back, I'd even forgotten how wet I was! Rodrigo was also happy and laughing, and Josias only teased me a little about being a chimp, if I understood properly the way he was relating the story to everyone else. I had to get myself into some dry stuff so I missed some of it. The day was elating all around.

Tomorrow we'd have to pack up and travel to the next glacier. A mini bus was coming to pick us up at 11am.