Santiago and Valparaiso Chile

After so much beauty, wilderness and tranquility down South, Santiago was a bit of a shock. On the bus approaching the city, I had to switch to a city frame of mind. Ironically, while my awareness of my surroundings was now heightened (for safety purposes), the visibility of my surroundings (the snow capped mountains that shroud the city) was virtually non-existent due to the huge amount of smog here.

Needless to say, it was very different being in a big city for the first time in a couple of months. Other than a couple walks around town, I didn't do much here other than catch up on this blog, pictures, etc.

Valparaiso offered somewhat of a reprieve from the big city feel thanks to Pablo Neruda´s house, some really cool, colorfully painted buildings and the beach setting in nearby Viña del Mar. Upon my 10pm arrival in Valpo, I wandered the streets around the bus station for a bit before dropping into a shop to make a call to a hostel I had read about in my book. My small amount of Spanish seemed to convince the (non-English speaking) ladies here that I should not be wandering the streets in the area because it was ¨muy peligroso¨ (very dangerous). My Español is at least good enough to know when to take a warning, so I took their suggestion and followed the nice lady to a door on the same block. After some yelling back and forth up the stairs the lady wished me luck and said if I didn't like it, I could come use the phone. Or I am assuming this is what she was saying anyway. The Hospedaje was amazing. Okay, so it was a bit weird, but it did have hot water (see photo) and one of the smilingest grandmothers I've ever met. Though she didn't speak any English, we still enjoyed watching Seinfeld together. Being the first American and one of only a few backpackers to ever stay here, I had to stay a couple nights.

Pucon, Chile - Ascent of Volcan Villarica

One of my favorite things about traveling solo and without a real plan is the ability to make it up as I go. I had planned to stay here in this little town of Pucon for only a couple days before heading North to my first real city, Santiago. It's now been 6 days and I'm finally leaving. I wandered into a great hostel with some very nice people and haven't been able to leave. I took one day to climb Volcan Villarica which, although not super difficult, requires a guide, ice axe and crampons. After a beautiful day with some spectacular views (including an ever-smoking volcano), I've been hiking, relaxing and enjoying the scenery that surrounds a famous half-ironman triathlon course. It´s supposed to a very difficult course so I could not resist going for a long run yesterday to see what it was all about. Difficult, but beautiful - I would definitely love to come back and do the race some year.

Un otro carrera...Offroad Duathlon in San Martin de los Andes, Argentina

Once in San Martin, I was a bit disappointed to find out that the Ascent of Volcan Lanin could only be done with a guide and the price would be somewhere in the $300 range. Deciding that this was not in the budget, I planned to head straight up towards Pucon, Chile to try another climb. Until I saw the sign posted in a bike shop window advertising an off-road duathlon, that is. After such a great experience running the road race in Bariloche and meeting many locals, I decided that I HAD to do this race. Never mind that I have only been on a bike once in the past 6 months, have never done an off-road duathlon, and am completely ill-equipped (no bike, bad running shoes, lack of race clothing, etc) to compete in such a race. As I realized I would not be winning this particular race, I went into it fairly relaxed (read - I got back from the bars at 5am as you do in Argentina on the weekends. After all, dinner is not until 11pm). Fortunately, organizers are aware of such behavior and this race started at 11am unlike the races that start at 7 or 8am in the states. Anyway, with an old, borrowed bike (complete with the ever-aerodynamic kickstand), I struggled through the first part, felt surprisingly strong on the run and finished third in my age group. Okay, so there were only 3 people in my age group, but c'mon. After the race, I was invited to lunch by a group of local racers/volunteers. Again, it was so great to meet and hang out with not only locals, but locals with a similar passion for sports, racing, etc. One of the girls even offered to take me to Pucon the next day as she was heading that way (the 5 hour ride was much more pleasant than sitting on another bus).
Apart from the race experience, I absolutely loved San Martin and the many people I met. It is a resort town (ski area nearby) that felt very much like a Breckenridge or a Telluride. Over 5 days here, I spent time with 2 Argentinian girls, a German guy and a couple of Americans.

Villa La Angostura....saying farewell to a friend

Instead of heading too far, I decided to stop over in a small town that a Canadian couple said looked "pretty neat". Here in Villa La Angostura, there are tourist options abound, but in a much more "tranquilo" way than other towns like El Calafate. I ended up in a hostel with 6 Argentinians, traveling separately, and a couple gringos (a Dutch girl and an American guy). Everyone there spoke Spanish except for me which was great. It was a great opportunity to listen, learn and practice. This is not generally the case in most hostels as English is the default language spoken 95% of the time. I went hiking with a couple of the girls from Buenos Aires which was helpful with my Spanish practice, and also very entertaining to hear some of the English phrases they would quote from movies they had seen. Also entertaining, were the three stray dogs that followed us from town, up to a waterfall and lookout, all the back to town, to the grocery store (where they waited for twenty minutes) and back to our hostel. This is not an odd occurrence in the Southern part of Argentina as there are stray dogs everywhere.
Finally, one of the guys from Buenos Aires had an electric razor which gave me the opportunity to bid farewell to the ginger beard (as the folks from England call it). I could not resist taking a photo midway through the process. Notice the Lanus jersey I'm wearing in the photo that was given to me by Nati the Portena (term used for a girl from BA). I guess I am now a huge Lanus (Argentinian Soccer team) fan.

Back to Bariloche

After departing Hippieville, I made my way back to Bariloche for a couple more days before heading further North into the Argentinian Lake District. Despite the rainy/cold weather that confirmed winter was moving North, I was able to get in a nice bike ride around some of the many lakes in the area. This heavily touristed route known as the Circuito Chico (small loop)offered great views (rated top 10 in the world by National Geographic), the opportunity to exercise new muscles (first time on a bike in months) and another opportunity to get lost in a foreign country. Time to head north a bit and try to find the remnants of summer...

El Bolson - Hippies, Hippies everywhere

I decided to make a quick stop in El Bolson (ARG) which is known most for its abundance of laid-back, artsy folk and groovy market. Though both of these were appreciated (the hippies for picking me up while hitchhiking and the market for the amazing locally grown and made food), a hike up to Cerro Hielo Azul (blue ice) and the higher Barta Negra (black something or other) made this stopover an unbelievable experience. A soon-to-be med student from Iowa and I somehow managed to get lost several times over the couple days of this trek, but the 360* views from Barta Negra's peak were incredible. To get there, we crossed the sketchiest bridge I've ever been on and met a great family (girl in wheelbarrow) that ran the mountain-top refugio where we camped. Eating lunch atop a 6000 foot peak with giant condors riding past on up-drafts is something I will never forget. I only wish I had better pictures of these majestic birds (which can have a 9 foot wingspan in length), but I was too in awe to grab my camera. El Bolson also marked the beginning of my ¨Couch Surfing Experience¨. CS is a website used worldwide that connects travellers and couches (or floors, beds, rooms, etc). It is a way for travellers to find a free place to stay, but more importantly to connect people of different nationalities. For my first experience, we (Iowa guy and myself) camped in Fede´s (40 year old Argentinian guy named Federico) yard after hanging out with him, his daughter and his mother for a night. More CS stories to come I hope.

Carrera de Miguel

Though hardly in shape for anything more than hiking up a mountain with a 27 kilo bag on my back, i was excited to see a sign on a storefront window here in Bariloche (ARG) for the ¨Carrera de Miguel¨. ¨Michael's Race¨, how could I resist? After a little further research, I found out that there was a 5k for las chicas and a 10k for los chicos. I guess Title IX hasn't made it down here yet. Despite the fact that I haven't run a mile since the RnR Arizona Marathon two months ago and all I had to wear were my destroyed hiking/trail running shoes, I figured 'what the hell'? So after shoveling down the hostel breakfast of three sugar covered pastries (basically donuts) and a couple cups of coffee, I ran down to the race start. If nothing else I figured I would be sure to bag a ¨drinking wine ´til 2am/donuts for breakfast 30 minutes to race time/South American 10K¨ PR. To my relief, my Spanish comprehension proved unworthy and I misunderstood the format. As it turns out ALL were welcome to enter either the 5 or 10k. ''Oh,bueno'' I said to the guy at registration, ¨cinqo mille metres es mehor para mi!¨ With my horrible vocabulary/accent, I was probably telling him that I don't like eggs, but at least I felt like I would be giving my feet a little break by running just the 3.1 miles in my crappy shoes.

After signing up (oddly enough, there was no entry fee) we were given a 15 minute talk and headed to the race start where I met an Israeli guy and a couple from Hawaii - the only other gringos in the race. The 3.1 miles went fairly quickly despite the cramps and general grogginess and and we mingled for a bit watching the rest of the pack cross the line. While we waited, we spoke (in our broken Spanish) to the kid who won the 10k. This guy absolutely smoked the field despite the fact that his ¨running¨ shoes looked to be about 7 years old and one of them was literally about to fall off his foot. Seeing this, the guy from Hawaii discretely went over and traded him his fancy white and orange Mizuno Waves for his tattered pair of Nikes. With the look of disbelief, the young Argentinian runner asked ¨how much¨? ¨Free. Just have fun running.¨ Awesome. Later at the awards ceremony, after descending the podium, this kid came over to the Hawaiian and placed his champion's medal around the American's neck and gave him a big hug. One of the coolest moments I have ever witnessed at a race.

The wonder of this day continued as we learned who the ¨Miguel¨ of the race's title was. Without getting into too much history, on March 24, 1976 a lot of bad stuff started going down here in Argentina and many young people who had been rebelling against the crooked dictatorship were kidnapped, tortured and presumed killed. Miguel Sanchez, an Argentinian runner, was one of these people kidnapped here and never found. This race, is held to pay homage to Miguel and others that were lost as well as to keep alive memories of what all Argentinians went through. Accordingly, there were a couple of abuelas (grandmothers) of kidnapped citizens that gave a moving welcome and thanks to the crowd of runners gathered at the awards ceremony. All of this in addition to the fact that one of the prizes in the post-race raffle was a used Donna Summer CD (you can't make that up), made for a truly unforgettable day. Kind of a neat change compared to all of the high tech gear, sponsorship and commercialization that we are used to at most races in the states.