pole to pole with ME

2007-02-26T01:05:00.000-07:00

I finally made it out to the Elizabeth Parker hut near Lake O'Hara. Everybody has been raving about this place for as long as I've been in the Rockies. So many people list it as their favorite location - I figured that there must be something to it! It didn't disappoint.

Well, as you can see from the photo above, there was plenty of snow! Our group of seven skiers followed the 11 km road up to this alpine paradise, carrying all of our food, sleeping bags, extra clothing, and any other necessities in backpacks. I packed in a small flask of Scotch, for medicinal purposes only, of course... Our gang took about four hours to struggle up the trail, since we had a number of novice skiers and one complete first-timer along for the trip. I think that it's either brave or totally insane to strap on skis for the first time in your life and commit to a full-on excursion. Our newbie did very well, and hardly complained at all, despite the numerous falls he took while a whole bunch of girls stood around and giggled at him. (Way to go, Steve!)

The hut was cozy and warm when we arrived, thanks to some other folks who'd arrived ahead of our party & lit a cheerful fire. We cooked a leisurely supper, played some Scrabble, took a bit of medicine and snuggled into our sleeping bags in the small bunk hut next door.

Unfortunately for the people on the top bunk, our efforts to stoke up the fire before bedtime made the cabin into a sauna. The lower bunk was perfectly comfortable, though. Besides, we didn't want to have to re-start a fire in the middle of the night or wake up to icicles on our pillows. By about one in the morning the fire had died down to a couple of embers anyway and it started to get chilly. Thinking that we were doing everybody a favour, we spent about half an hour coaxing the fire to life again - not a popular move with the folks on the top bunk that were just starting to cool down. Oh, well. Boy, I'm glad that we have central heating these days, y'know? In a draughty cabin, it's really hard to find a comfortable temperature using a wood stove.

In the end we all got a bit of sleep & I was able to test out my shiny new down sleeping bag (thanks Lorne & Karen! That's what I got with the MEC gift card - love it!!!) See?

The trek back to the cars the next day was through an extra six inches or so of snow that had fallen overnight. It was a perfect alpine experience. So quiet up there, with big fluffy flakes of fresh powder sifting out of the sky. Can't wait to go back!

Lunch on the trail. We're perched on the top of a picnic table that's submerged in snow!

2007-01-29T22:49:00.000-07:00

Sunset tonight in Banff National Park, as seen from the road to Johnson Lake.

HOW...FREAKIN'....GORGEOUS...IS...THIS.

2007-01-29T22:29:00.000-07:00

Liz and I had to show off our amazing figure skating style last weekend on Lac Beauvert at the Jasper Park Lodge. Who knew - both of us from small Manitoba towns, both of Icelandic heritage, and both figure skating whiz kids in our youth. Unfortunately, it had been years since either of us had laced on the blades, so we had to keep the double-axels for another day. To her credit, Liz did a few wee jumps - but the place that rented us the skates at the JPL hadn't sharpened them since the last ice age. Mine were so bad that I couldn't hold an edge for a figure-eight - nevermind anything with any speed! Dull skates and rusty skills don't mix. And is it my imagination, or are they making ice harder these days?

Anyway, we had a fantastic time & took Izzy and Gemma for their first skate ever. Okay, so we put skates on their feet and shuffled them across the ice. It counts, right?

2007-01-14T23:57:00.000-07:00

When my brother and sister-in-law were visiting just after Christmas, we did the usual post-Christmas thing - sat around and played Scrabble. Of course, there was a considerable amount of red wine involved, which brought back memories of the time that my brother and I tried to beat Grandma at Scrabble by getting her tipsy (didn't work - she played even better than usual). Anyhoo... We coined a new word, which I want all of you to work into your daily lives: "Banfftastic" It works just like the word "fantastic" except that it applies to things that have to do with Banff. Being, as we are, the centre of the tourism universe, I think this term is long overdue. Let me help you start using the word with an example: "Q: How was the skiing on the weekend, Laurie? A: It was Banfftastic!!!" See how easy that is? Now you try...

2007-01-08T23:55:00.000-07:00

See the entry from December 31 for the full story... but here I am with our erstwhile Environment Minister, Rona Ambrose, back before Christmas. She's tiiiiiny! (or I'm huge...) Mom, Dad - what were you feeding me?!?

2007-01-08T23:50:00.000-07:00

My friend Wendy from Canmore has a team of horses & she's trained them to pull a sleigh. So last week she called me up and we donned fantastic historical Hudson's Bay coats to take the horses for some exercise before they are sent to pasture for the winter. I know it looks snowy, but it was actually about 4 degrees and raining while we took this tour.

2007-01-08T00:09:00.000-07:00

Here are some HOT MAMAS in my kitchen on New Year's Eve. I had a happy house-full with visitors from E-town and Montreal. Miss Kerri and Miss Reka and I had our 10-year reunion dinner on the 30th. There's nothing to make you feel old like celebrating a decade (except maybe the next 10-year reunion with these chicas). See Miss Nix's site for photos of our big day out skiing near Cascade Mountain: www.ninedoorsdesign.com/Banff/Site/Banff%20New%20Years.html After the snowy adventures we had a nice soak in the hot springs and mandatory nap time. Yes, I said NAP and it was FABULOUS. So there.

2007-01-03T00:06:00.000-07:00

Swedish meatball, anyone? I rang in the New Year with some of my best friends on this earth. To those of you who were not here for the party, I wish you a very happy 2007. (Photo credit: www.ninedoorsdesign.com )

2006-12-31T10:30:00.000-07:00

I was summoned to Edmonton just before Christmas to be a Bear Guardian for a day. Our Environment Minister (also in charge of Parks Canada) was visiting several Edmonton elementary schools, and we were spreading the good word about National Parks. My job was to talk about bears and administer the "Bear Care Swear" - it was so cute! Each kid got a "Bear Guardian" badge for taking the oath. I absolutely loved talking to the kids. They probably know more about environmental issues than their parents!

2006-12-13T00:57:00.000-07:00

My cat will do anything for food. Just look at the belly on that one! I think she got a bit of finger in that bite...

2006-12-12T00:08:00.000-07:00

This is from a recent snowshoe excursion into the wilds of Kootenay National Park with Ronni and Lu. Since we're us, the lovely ruby liquid coming out of that thermos is mulled wine. Fine, so we didn't clock more than 2 km but we know how to live it up!

2006-12-10T23:59:00.000-07:00

At the end of November I went to Toronto for a whirlwind weekend to do a show for the Alpine Club of Canada. It was a great time! I managed to skip the coldest weather in the Rockies (-38 C) and skip straight to the balmy Toronto climes (+11 C). Hee hee. My hosts in The Big Smoke did their utmost to keep me entertained. Many thanks to Ian for his couch, and Paul and Sandra for the chauffeuring and trip to the Science Centre (geeks! we're all geeks!) We saw an exhibit based on the science of Marvel Superheroes (X-men and the Hulk, among others). It was vaguely interesting, since they were trying to explain how Spiderman could climb walls and how mutations work, etc. But the whole thing fell flat somehow. Maybe because some of the hands-on stuff was broken. Maybe because there were hordes of screaming children everywhere. Maybe it was a good concept gone wrong. Hm. Anyhoo, the pic is of me being "Storm" from the X-men. Woot.

2006-12-08T01:33:00.000-07:00

In late September Mom & I went on a road trip to the West Coast. On the way, we stopped in at the Adams River in BC to witness the salmon run. I caught this pic of a sockeye salmon in full spawning mode. They turn bright red when they're "in the mood" then once the job is done they turn patchy white and expire. Ahh, ain't love grand?

2006-11-21T10:45:00.000-07:00

This odd-looking device is what's left of a FUGO. We found it at Fort Rodd Hill National Historic Site. It intrigued me because the FUGO was used by the Japanese in WWII to attempt to set North America on fire. No kiddin'. This frame you see was set aloft in the Jet Stream by hydrogen balloons made of lacquered paper (yes, you read that right - paper), and counterweighted with sandbags for ballast. A barometer would trigger sandbags to drop when the device sank out of the jet stream. The whole thing was calculated to make its final descent over the west coast of North America, where it would set off a 15 kilogram anti-personnel bomb and magnesium charges intended to ignite forest fires. Wow. The plan intended to divert resources and manpower from the overseas war effort to the mainland. Unfortunately for the Japanese, the FUGO was deployed as a frantic bid for an advantage...in the winter...of 1944. The devices did sail on the jet stream, as designed to do, but when they reached the U.S. and Canada, they did not start fires or cause much damage at all because of the wet and cold winter conditions. In fact, the only mainland casualties from WWII were a family of picnickers who discovered a fallen FUGO and accidentally detonated it. Interestingly enough, the fear of these fires gave rise to the Smokey the Bear program, still in use today. "Smokey says, only YOU can prevent forest fires"

2006-11-21T10:32:00.000-07:00

So...catching up over the last few months... At the end of September, Mom & I went to the West Coast to visit with family & friends out there. It was a 10 day road epic. We covered a lot of ground and drank a lot of Timmy's (me: double doubles. Mom: green tea) I know, I know, the left coast is the land o' Starbucks, and we did stop at a few of those, but apparently Timmy's puts a teensy bit of crack in their drinks, because we were both addicted. Being environmentally aware, I brought along a travel cup in which to enjoy my numerous coffees to go. Mom had unfortunately lost hers just before leaving home, so the first order of the trip was buying her a new one. Well, with our "sippy-cups" in tow, we fit right in around Vancouver. I swear those folks are going to have to grow another pair of arms. The ones they have now are always occupied with a cell phone in one hand and a Starbucks cup in the other. P. S. This photo was taken on Wickaninnish beach, Vancouver Island.

2006-09-04T20:00:00.000-06:00

Well, the summer season is over for Mountain WIT, and the guys have gone back to their schools (Ian to Ryerson, Thomas to Red Deer) and I am left to fend for myself through the winter. It's been a truly great summer, though, including a helluva treasure hunt that had Ronni and I running around town to retrieve 26 different clues to get back a precious item of mine that had been kidnapped. This was our stop at Canada Place in Banff. The adventure did include a real canoe ride, plus riddle-solving, feats of endurance and a malicious beaver. I'm making a movie about it.

2006-08-22T21:53:00.000-06:00

This time, I dragged my mother to the summit of a mountain. She got the idea some time ago that she just "had to" climb this peak. The peak in question? Ha Ling (formerly known as "Chinaman's Peak") which is one of the mountains overlooking Canmore. Sure, we took some time dawdling in Canmore, looking for a good peak-bagging hat for Mom, but once we were on the trail, it was all business. See, Mom had been training for this event for a few months now. She had to admit that the hills around Red Deer were not as steep or as long as Ha Ling. But with a bit of cajoling and the promise of some premium-quality chocolate, she did it! Mom's first summit. I'm so proud!

2006-08-11T23:28:00.000-06:00

When will the incessant summit-bagging stop, you ask?!? "When my knees give out!" I say. My knees very nearly gave out on this scramble: Mount Rundle. It's a steep slog up the sloping back of the mountain. Unrelenting up up up. Guess that's how you get to the top, but geez! It winded me. Plus it was freakin' cold up at the top! So our celebratory lunch was confined to a few bites of chocolate for form's sake (must have celebratory chocolate) and a hasty retreat to warmer climes. Really, the forecast was for clear skies and 21 degrees (celcius, if you're wondering) which could have made for pleasant picnicking at the summit. Nope! Never trust the peaks. They'll getcha. Especially if you've forgotten to bring gloves & a toque. Dumbass. I left the peak with my extra pair of socks over my numb hands. Bliss.

2006-08-02T19:51:00.000-06:00

For those of you who knew me when I had really long hair - rejoice! It's easy to get it back...just put on a wig! Here I am, portraying one of the founders of the Alpine Club of Canada, Mrs. Elizabeth Parker. I was fortunate enough to garner a ride on a classic steam train through the Rockies to Rogers Pass in July, all the while in disguise as Mrs. Parker. The show has been going over very well. I've performed it at several Alpine Club of Canada functions, including one at Stanley Mitchell Hut where I packed in the costume and props in my backpack & performed by kerosene lamplight, I think that was my favorite so far, since the audience was made up of climbers who had just spent the day on the peaks and were feeling a real emotional attachment to the mountains. We all ended up a little weepy and sentimental. It was beautiful.

2006-07-05T10:07:00.000-06:00

One of the best things about living in the Rockies is the opportunity to climb those big chunks of rock that obscure the sky. Yesterday, the Dam Big Rodents (plus our roommate, Kim) reached the summit of Cascade Mountain. For anybody who has been to Banff, that's the big peak that looms at the end of Banff Avenue. It was a brilliant day for a climb. We started at about 7:30 am to take advantage of the cool morning. By early afternoon, it was quite warm, but then came some nice, poofy clouds to give a bit of shade. The summit, which at just under 3000 metres above sea level can be particularly cold and windy, was actually pleasant and warm. We spent a while up there to rest and eat a well-earned lunch before trekking back down. Thanks to modern technology, there is perfect cell phone reception at the top of the mountain. I know it may offend some alpine purists, but I couldn't resist calling Mom & Dad from the summit. Too much fun!

2006-06-23T22:06:00.000-06:00

Mmmm, pond scum... This lovely image was extracted from the Cave and Basin, where we did a little show tonight called "History Stinks!" all about the sulfurous hot springs that made Banff what it is today. Wowee. So if you want to say Banff is slimy, you are quite right!

2006-06-18T22:03:00.000-06:00

I guess this blog has evolved into the travels of Mountain WIT this summer. We had a great time in Ottawa/Gatineau, performing at the Museum of Civilization for the CEO of Parks Canada's awards. Couldn't resist goofing a bit in the very posh dressing room.

2006-06-10T18:06:00.000-06:00

Me and my fellow "Dam Big Rodents" (as we like to call the theatre troupe) are in Ottawa this weekend, sampling all of the culinary delights of the nation's capital. (oh, and we're going to be doing a little show here on Monday). We started the day at the Byward Market, where you can find nosh from any part of the globe. We opted for some fruit and chocolate brioche, followed by a hefty wedge of brie laced with black truffles and "pain du bois" which translated somewhat awkwardly to "wood bread." I don't think that they intended to imply that the bread was made of wood... Anyhoo.

One of the famous delicacies of Ottawa is the "Beaver Tail"(see above) - a platter of fried sugared dough served hot & fresh from street vendors. That'll be breakfast tomorrow, if the weather decides to cooperate. It's no fun eating street food if it's being blown from your grip by a soggy northern gale. I thought Ottawa was supposed to be stinkin' hot in the summer! (grr)That's it - I'm going back to the Rockies on Monday.

2006-06-04T18:36:00.000-06:00

June in the Rockies means flowers & lots of 'em. These beauties are Calypso Orchids (related to the yellow Lady's Slipper) found on the trail up to Cascade Lookout. It was perfect hiking weather today: overcast but not rainy, calm and about 15 degrees. It's such a pleasure to have all of this beauty right out my back door. It almost makes up for the dearth of quality available men around here. Sigh.

2006-05-23T22:55:00.000-06:00

Ahh, another very serious day at the office... The Mountain WIT gang recently had a special command performance in Toronto, so naturally, we took in some of the sights as well. Here are my two beloved work-mates, giving a smooch to our totem - "the Dam Big Rodent" - symbol of Canada - one side of the nickel - in short, the beaver. This one was found at the Royal Ontario Museum, in the Natural History section. It was labelled "Please Touch" to differentiate it from all the rest of the exhibits that were strictly verboten. Thomas quipped, "This is probably the most-fondled beaver in Toronto..." (then he blushed furiously)

2006-05-15T22:04:00.000-06:00

Just had to share this lovely pic of my brother and my shiny new sister-in-law. Aren't they a gorgeous couple? It was an epic two-weekend/two wedding extravaganza, but now they're good 'n married. With two weddings in a row, I expect that this one will stick for a good long time. I wish them many many years of bliss!

2006-05-01T18:54:00.000-06:00

Buenos Aires in a nutshell: Old, graceful buildings (some crumbling, some well-kept) with a modern, hard edge just behind. This country desperately wants to regain the prosperity of it's proud past, but is stuck in a cycle of debt and political unrest. In the famous words of Don Henley: "all she wants to do is dance"

2006-04-27T10:33:00.000-06:00

From quiet backwater Patagonian towns to the hustle of Buenos Aires... The city is amazing! This is "Caminito" the most touristy part of the whole city. It sits within the rough neighbourhood of La Boca (this will mean something to international soccer fans - it's the home of the most famous BA team). Julie met me in the city & we covered many urban miles each day - shopping, sightseeing & soaking up the sun!

2006-04-27T10:29:00.000-06:00

LOOK OUT FOR THE TRAFFIC!!! Yeah, El Chalten was abuzz...

2006-04-27T10:04:00.000-06:00

Camp kitchen. Yes, it's all glamour and skittles on the trail. Most of the sites had no tables, so you had to find a relatively level spot and set up the little stove, wind guard, fuel bottle - then wait for the "primus inferno" to calm (this stove had a terrible "pre-heat" cycle which consisted of about two minutes of three-foot-high flames. Pretty impressive.). So then you drool as the water slowly heats to boiling for your large dish of instant mashed potatoes. To be fair, Lu and I ate really well on the trail. We added yummy condiments n' stuff to our mash!

2006-04-22T15:10:00.000-06:00

This was our goal from El Chalten: The Cerro Torre. Apparently, it's a really challenging climb. Huh...wonder why?

2006-04-22T15:07:00.000-06:00

I got a kiss from a wandering guanaco (WAN-uh-ko, related to the llama) on the way to El Chalten. So much for anti-habituation! No, I did not feed it, for those of you Parkies who might balk at this behaviour...This animal was so domesticated, it was actually begging to be let into the cafe! People fed this baby guanaco tidbits of things it probably shouldn't have been eating. I had no idea where the rest of the herd was - it seemed like this little one had been abandoned, and was living in harmony with the other animals on the property: a German Shepherd dog, a brown and white calf, assorted chickens and a grey cat.

2006-04-20T14:44:00.000-06:00

One of the most haunting experiences of my time in Argentina was an impromptu visit inside this defunct Casa Grande (the "big house" of an estancia or ranch). This was the only photo I took of the house - any more would have felt intrusive & disrespectful to it's history. The house had been unoccupied since the early 1980s, but everything was just left inside. Patagonia was a prosperous area around 1905, when Estancia Bon Accord was founded, and the ranch boasted the first short-wave radio in the district when they became available. It was a hub of life around El Calafate, and close to 100 people lived in and around the activities of the ranch. The big house hosted dances and parties. Now, it sits, filled with treasures collecting dust. I itched to give it all a shine and set the place up as an interpretive centre. The ingredients were all there - they just needed a nudge. I guess when I make my million dollars and perfect my Spanish, I can go back & put my plan into action...

2006-04-19T00:15:00.000-06:00

This was a real gaucho! (batteries and brandy not included) Gustavo (or Chavon, as most called him) took us for a bum-jolting day-long ride across the scrub-lands to the Estancia Bon Accord. This was our lunch stop. There wasn't much chat while we were riding, but when he pulled out the booze at lunch, we knew we'd get along!

2006-04-19T00:10:00.000-06:00

These dashing young men were demonstrating some local folk dances and songs in a public square in El Calafate. Their costumes are a slightly more showy version of the gaucho's attire.

2006-04-19T00:04:00.000-06:00

It's pretty easy to come to this conclusion: "Patagonia is spiky." Nearly every thing that grows on the arid pampas has spines, thorns, needles or is just downright prickly in some way. The foreground of this picture features the ubiquitous Calafate bush. Legend has it that if you consume the Calafate berries, you are destined to return to Patagonia. I don't know if I needed magic to entice me back. Aside from the inhospitable plant life, I found southern Argentina to be exactly the kind of place you'd want to revisit.

2006-04-13T10:48:00.000-06:00

We had been suffering Nescafe Instant coffee for a month in Chile. This was our first morning in Argentina, and the hotel was a bed and breakfast deal. Joy of joys, the man in the background came out with a piping hot carafe of BREWED COFFEE!!! and some hot milk to go with it. Heaven... Well, the hotel kinda sucked in other respects, plus it was an hour's hike from downtown after the tourist info girl had assured us that it was "not far." Hiking over an hour with your pack is nothing, if you are expecting to do so. Hiking through town with a full pack and an empty belly, plus a full bladder when you have no Argentine cash for a taxi and no bloody idea why the hotel is not where they said it was on the map is quite another thing. Two blessings in disguise came out of that trauma, though. Lua and I enjoyed an exquisite meal at a restaurant very near to our (eventually found) hotel, and we got real brewed coffee in the morning. We liked Argentina immediately.

2006-04-12T09:39:00.000-06:00

This was our welcome to El Calafate - a frontier town in Patagonian Argentina. Horses are still a way of life here, and the Gauchos (cowboys) roam the pampas to care for the wandering sheep and kill lurking pumas.

2006-04-10T11:24:00.000-06:00

The border crossing to Argentina. The photo makes it look like a town. These three were the only buildings for miles around. Must be a lonely post for the crossing guards. Nothing around you but rolling pampas (grassland) and the occasional guanaco. (Don't know what a guanaco is? Stay tuned...)

2006-04-10T11:21:00.000-06:00

We celebrated the circuit properly, with a big dinner of fresh veggies at a fantastic restaurant in Puerto Natales - El Living. Julie was on the road to recovery from her flu, and Lu and I were about to hop town for more adventures.

2006-04-09T21:34:00.000-06:00

Never trust "pie" in Chile - at least not in Puerto Natales. After 11 days on the trail, Lu and I were easily lured into a cafe promising espresso coffee concoctions and strawberry-apple-rhubarb pie. Talk about false advertising! If it hadn't been for the intervention of a shaving of apple and rhubarb, the top and bottom crusts of this pastry would have met. Be warned, friends... Pie is not always pie.

2006-04-07T20:21:00.000-06:00

After 11 days on the trail, we still looked hot...

2006-04-07T09:02:00.000-06:00

Wringing out socks from a dip in the drink... The night that we were camped at the base of the towers was filled with torrential rain. That made the river across the trail back to civilization swell from a boisterous creek to a raging torrent. In the process of placing logs across a particularly tricky section, I went in up to my thigh. Fortunately, I wasn't wearing my pack, and I was able to stay on the log & get back to shore. One boot was thoroughly soaked, so I had to finish the last two hours of our momentous hike in my sandals.

2006-04-05T19:11:00.000-06:00

That's what it's all about. Getting up at dawn to see first light on the Torres del Paine, and noshing on chocolate for breakfast. This bar was Julie's Celebration Chocolate, given to Lu and I when she left. See, Julie didn't make it to this event - she was struck by a bad flu after our toast to the completion of the circut, and she took the bus back into town to recover. The flu had nothing to do with the beer, honest! Hey, Ju - thanks for the chocky!!!

2006-04-04T18:08:00.000-06:00

Beer never tasted so good. We'd made it to the Hosteria Las Torres - right back where we'd started. That meant we'd done the circuit, right? Oh, if it had only been that easy...

2006-04-03T20:02:00.000-06:00

Feelin' like a champion after a quick dash up 500 vertical metres of trail (without our heavy packs!) to view Valle de Frances. The wind was completely insane, and glaciers were thundering down all around us. Wow.

2006-04-02T00:36:00.000-07:00

Good equipment can make life on the trail so much more enjoyable. By day 7, we felt that a little homage to our Therma-Rests was in order. We love them. We love them. We love them. Oh, yeah, the tent was pretty good too.

2006-03-31T21:19:00.000-07:00

The blur at the bottom of this image is the spray thrown skywards from our zodiac ride across Lago Grey. We were doing Mach 7 through herds of icebergs bobbing in the lake. Whhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

2006-03-31T21:15:00.000-07:00

Lookin' sooooo stylish on Glaciar Grey... Lu and I went for an ice hike, with crampons and ice axes and all that. We spent about three hours meandering around the toe of a glacier which rumbled 4km down from the Southern Patagonian Ice Field. We had walked beside a good distance of the length of this glacier the previous day and the morning of the ice hike, to get from camp to camp. Standing on this giant was an utter thrill. We even got to try our hands at ice climbing!

2006-03-30T13:00:00.000-07:00

At the top of the pass, the vista of Glaciar Grey and all of the surrounding peaks took away what little breath we had left. We paused for a lunch at the apex of the circut, and marvelled at our good fortune with the weather. Every day, we kept saying "Well, if the rest of the hike gets crappy weather, we've been really lucky until now." It never did turn crappy.

2006-03-30T12:56:00.000-07:00

Another photo by Julie. This was on the way up the pass. Not bad, just a slog up and up and up on rock. Most of it was pretty stable - no nasty scree to slide on. And the weather? PERFECT.

2006-03-30T12:48:00.000-07:00

Photo courtesy of Julie: this is a small portion of the boggy bit on the approach to the pass. In reality, it was about an hour and a half of hopping from one grass tuft or stick to another. See below for the carnage.

2006-03-30T12:47:00.000-07:00

ohhhh, the mud... Apparently, we had it pretty good, compared to how the trail could be. The approach to the crux of the circuit hike meanders across an unavoidable and inexplicably boggy hillside. This photo was taken on one of the few oases of dry ground. Legend has it that on a bad day, you can't avoid going in up to your knees in the slime. All in all, we fared really well. The pass was still to come...

2006-03-29T10:14:00.000-07:00

This was the best wildlife sighting on the hike. Sure, we saw some birds, but the cougars were all in hiding (not that I'd want to get too close to one of those!). This Patagonian Fox (el Zorro Patagonico) was rifling through the garbage at Camp Dickson. Hmm. I think the Chilean park managers could take a page from us? One fox, at a different camp, was so habituated that he would steal hikers' boots from the vestibule of their tents! This foxy fox had collected over 40 individual pieces of footwear in one season. Maybe it liked the salt on the sweaty boots. Maybe it just had a twisted sense of humour, and liked to see hikers do the circuit in their flip-flops. Either way, the cache of lost boots has yet to be found...

2006-03-29T10:08:00.000-07:00

Poor Julie! After only two days on the trail, her feet were in pretty bad shape. We patched her up as best we could, knowing that our moleskin was in frighteningly short supply, and there was little chance of getting more on the trail. We tried a plaster of second skin topped with moleskin and secured with duct tape, but the whole thing slid when her feet got damp, and matters got worse. A moment of inspiration sent us diving for the tensor bandages. We wrapped all of the anti-blister dressing (minus the duct tape) into place. This worked well enough that her heels started to heal by the end of the hike! Julie was a real trooper, bless her dear heart.

2006-03-28T12:15:00.000-07:00

There is something to be said for the effects that you can get out of a cheap digital camera and a dirty lens. I particularly like the "superhero" effect we get in this photo. We felt like superheroes for making it through day 2 of Torres del Paine's circuit. Behind us, you can just make out the refugio and campsites at Lago Dickson. It was a really nice camp, situated in a peninsula on the glacial lake. Gee, our packs look a lot lighter than they were!

2006-03-26T23:59:00.000-07:00

If you go back in the archives of this blog (March 4, 2006), this entry tells a story about Nescafe. Here is the dork who seems to think that Nescafe is really damn tasty.

2006-03-26T23:57:00.000-07:00

Finally! We get to the hiking bits. This was day 1 on the trail. Check the size of those packs! Actually, every time we'd encounter other trekkers, we would mentally compare their loads with ours. If their packs looked too small, we would glance at each other knowingly, and think smugly how ill-prepared they must be if they were carrying that little gear. (Hey, we had to make ourselves feel better somehow!)

2006-03-23T01:12:00.000-07:00

This tempting fellow stood outside of one of Patagonia's famous Parilla (barbecue) restaurants. The lamb and beef in this part of the world are unsurpassed. Typically, a carcass is staked and spread as you see here, and placed near a hot bank of coals for most of the day. The results? Tender, juicy, abundant, addictive meat. Vege-who?

2006-03-21T09:49:00.000-07:00

Here's the bar of the pub onboard the ferry. Yup, there was a pub. The guy who runs the place is Mr. Pollo (the name translates to "Mr. Chicken") and what a character he was! After the ship had engine problems, and it was determined that we would be sailing for an extra night, the crew put together a free bingo night in the pub. Theory goes that if you are hammered enough, you won't worry about things like getting into port and whether or not we might sink. So. Mr. Pollo was particularly good at mixing the local specialty, Pisco Sour. To describe the ingredients would not entice you to try it, but I swear it's super-tasty! Pisco (grape brandy) sugar, lemon juice and egg white shaken together over ice. These things are killer.

2006-03-20T22:38:00.000-07:00

On the second day of the ferry ride, we disembarked at Puerto Eden, a tiny community on Wellington Island. The whole town waits for the bi-weekly visit of the ferry for supplies, news and commerce. Many of the locals had set up handcraft stalls near their homes, and they would display their wares for that hour and a half, twice a week, when somebody just might buy. I can't say that I was overly tempted by anything for sale. Thing 1: I would have to carry it around the Torres del Paine circuit (a trinket had not much chance of surviving being crushed in a backpack and hauled over mountains). Thing 2: what they were selling was crap. Not made in China crap, but made in Chile crap. Seriously. If you got a grade 1 class together, you could come up with better "handicrafts" than that! Honestly...

2006-03-19T09:18:00.000-07:00

Lu and I caught up on a bit of reading on the ferry. The bunks were soooo comfortable, and each had a curtain so that you could shut out the rest of the world & nap. We soon became accustomed to the gentle roll of the ocean in the fjords. So much so, that when we got to dry land in Puerto Natales, we felt seasick from not being at sea.

2006-03-18T09:50:00.000-07:00

The next big adventure, in a litany of adventures, was the Navimag ferry from Puerto Montt to Puerto Natales. If you EVER have the chance to do this - DO IT!!! It was a blast: the trekker's cruise. The small mountain of backpacks at the ferry terminal spoke volumes about the kind of company we were to keep on the boat. Almost the entire passenger list (about 250 people) were heading south to hike in Torres de Paine. It was three days of enforced relaxation. If you've been following all winter, you'll know that Lu and I are not good at relaxing, but the boat was different. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

2006-03-17T21:04:00.000-07:00

loookitthesizeofthesemussels!!!! The smallest was bigger than my palm. They were part of a local specialty called Curanto in Puerto Montt. In curanto, you find a mix of seafood in a savoury broth, topped with a healthy heapin' of grilled chicken, pork, and sausage. If the protien overload might do you in, don't worry - it's all balanced by three types of potato dumplings... Wow.

2006-03-16T09:57:00.000-07:00

A few posts back, you'll find a photo of the interior of a grand wooden church. This is an example of the wooden shingles typical of homes on the island of Chiloe. And if you look really close, there's a cat in the window (I was missing my cat!)

2006-03-16T09:54:00.000-07:00

In the town of Castro, people living along the bay had built "palafitos" - houses on stilts. When the tide was out, you could see a small army of residents out on the mud flats in front of these houses, collecting shellfish.

2006-03-15T14:54:00.000-07:00

owie owie owie. My legs got crisped to a bright fuschia hue on Chiloe. For the full story, see the archives from February 2006 - "Strollin' on the beach"

2006-03-14T09:37:00.000-07:00

Our second hike on the island of Chiloe was a little more "structured". The bus dropped us off at the gate of a national park where we were able to obtain a map (of sorts) and we started along a sandy beach. One of the curiosities of this beach were the cattle lounging on the sand. "What are they doing there?" we wondered. There was nothing for them to eat except seaweed! It's still a mystery to me...

2006-03-13T12:25:00.000-07:00

On the island of Chiloe, they have distinctive architecture involving wooden shingles as siding for the majority of the houses. This skill with woodworking translated into the building of over a dozen wooden churches on the island, which are now recognized and protected as a UNESCO world heritage site. This is a view of the interior of the largest, the church of San Francisco, in Castro. These churches are an amazing contrast to the cold, ornate, gilded stone cathedrals in Europe. The feel inside is like a warm hug because of the wood surrounding you. Ornamentation is minimal, and the simple elegance of the structure speaks for itself: the divine manifested through the work of human hands.

2006-03-13T01:31:00.000-07:00

One of the best treats in South America is "milk jam," or dulce de leche. We bought a pouch of this caramel-like substance and took it on our hikes. It lasted a total of 18 hiking days, and that's not for lack of eating the stuff! It was great on apples, bananas, crackers, or just licked off your finger. It improved crappy chocolate and our moods. This stuff is GOLD. Good thing the Italian Centre in Edmonton stocks it!

2006-03-11T12:01:00.000-07:00

THIS was the reward for taking a chance on the boat ride. Our first hike in Chile was spectacular, the whole way along. Weather was perfect - a bit of a breeze, pleasant sunshine, the roar of the surf always nearby.

2006-03-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

Lu, with the backpacks, on the boat that we took from the village of Chepu to a remote trailhead on the island of Chiloe. We were gobsmacked when we got dropped off in Chepu at the "tourist information," which was the size and approximate look of an outhouse in a field of horses.

The helpful gent at said information booth gave us a vague wave in the direction of the Pacific Ocean, when we described the trail we wished to hike. "Take a boat," he said, "and you'll find the trail over there." (or something like that, in Spanish). There was an assortment of watercraft moored at the delta nearby, so we negotiated a ride on a rickety motor boat with a group of locals who happened to be sitting around, looking like they were eventually going to go somewhere on the water. We tried to make them understand, with the help of the phrasebook, that we needed to be picked up the next day at three, wherever they dropped us off.

They seemed to get it, and were not at all bothered by our worried brows, so we just decided to go with it. They dropped us off at a dock, led us through a farmer's field, and waved onward, so that's the way we went. How hard could it be? Just keep the Pacific Ocean on your right on the way in, and on your left on the way out. Simple. We had extra food, in case we got stranded & they didn't show up, so off we went. We took the fact that they didn't accept our money for the ride as a bit of a guarantee that they would, in fact, pick us up.

2006-03-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

Not a great photo, but there's a story here: Lu is holding the fateful bottle of Kerosene... See, she'd bought a multi-fuel stove in Santiago (most airlines don't like you flying with a camp stove, so we decided it was better to buy one in the country), and we couldn't find any white gas in Ancud. Not much call for it, I guess, as we found out, the hiking culture has not taken ahold of Chiloe. Anyhoo, this kerosene was so polluted that by the time we got it to flashpoint to light the stove, we very nearly set the hillside alight! Some quick action with a bucket of water saved the day (and our cabin) but the stove never did work right, even when we got proper white gas & ditched the filthy kerosene. Every time we lit it, there would be a small inferno, and it would leave a scum of oily carbon on the bottom of our cooking pots. Next time, I'll buy the cheapie cannisters the locals use!

2006-03-10T11:30:00.000-07:00

Next stop, the village of Ancud on the island of Chiloe. This was the view just down the hill from the cabin we rented.

2006-03-09T14:51:00.000-07:00

This stu-unning tree flourishes in the main square in Talca. I forget the name, unfortunately - anybody know?

2006-03-09T00:02:00.000-07:00

What would Chile be without a wine tour? As predicted in a previous post, we made it to the Maule Valley, home of some very fine vineyards. Indeed, the Balduzzi Vineyard delivered some tasty samples, especially their late harvest dessert wine. Pictured here in the cellar are American Oak casks filled with maturing reds, and the aftermath of a major tasting event. Lu and I are not pictured in this moment for a very good reason... *hic*

2006-03-07T22:01:00.000-07:00

A little bit of photo-art, n'est-ce pas? This colourful scene met my camera in the winemaking town of Talca, about four hours south of Santiago. It was a relief to get out of the big city and bask in the sun of an austral summer!

2006-03-06T14:03:00.000-07:00

our feet, after a perilous hike in the city. We were misdirected by a well-meaning embassy employee to follow a particular road to a mall that we needed to visit (in search of a battery charger for my camera - the original had been stolen the day before). In true LS2 style, we got stuck walking in a narrow ditch between a thoroughly fenced golf course and a freeway! Good times...

2006-03-05T14:03:00.000-07:00

Spot the lushes... We'd been in Chile for less than 20 minutes, and were already researching how to access the enormous potential of the wine tour. (Vineyard? Nice. Fermentation bins? Charming. When do we get to the tasting?!)

Just when you thought it was over...

2006-03-04T12:36:00.000-07:00

Daaaaaaaaaaaaarlings!

I'm home now, re-establishing my home in Banff, and Wendy is the happiest kitty alive to be home again. She had exemplary treatment at Uncle L and Auntie K's house, then at Mom & Dad's, but just as Dorothy says, "there's no place like home."

I heave a sad sigh for the end of the adventure in South America, but fear not, blog fans! Since I now have the ability to post photos once again, I have devised a clever plan to feed your blog addiction without resorting to writing about the minutae of my daily life. (I promise, it won't be so interesting for the next month anyway - work work work) SO - the plan is this... every day you can view a new picture or two from the trip, as if it were happening in real time.

Wowee.

See below for the first of the installments, and enjoy!

2006-03-04T12:35:00.000-07:00

Lu and I at the Calgary Airport, about to step into the adventure. This turned out to be a prophetic image, because the instant coffee that we were forced to drink for the whole stay in Chile used this gesture in their advertising. We found this absurdly hilarious, since the coffee was so bad, and the guy in the photo looked so excited about it. So on the trip, to celebrate any great thing happening, we would make this gesture and trumpet "Nescafe!!!"

Hello Buenos Aires...and goodbye

2006-02-28T06:01:00.000-07:00

Time to go home... I can't stand the thought of going back to routine life after such a luxurious time on the road. Don't get me wrong - I love my work and my home and friends and family - it's just been such a treat to have this winter to explore the world. Just wistful, I suppose, because tonight I get on a plane and all of it will be in the past. What a ride.

Buenos Aires is a city - what more can I say? It's filthy, smelly, noisy, crowded, and THRILLING. This city is hyper-aware of its passionate history, and flaunts Tango as much as the beloved Boca soccer team, Evita, and the national flag. This energy is expressed daily - Porteños (as locals are known) stay out all night on a regular basis, often with the entire family. Small children play in the streets at midnight, with nobody seeming to give a second thought to it.

This all takes place amongst the crumbling frontages of manor houses from the wealthy turn of the century, when Argentina was a major power in South America, and the wool trade was booming. BA is filled with an embarassment of amazing architecture. Often called the Paris of South America, on quieter corners, it is easy to see why. On the busy ones, you'd better just watch out for traffic. Sidewalks are not necessarily for pedestrians.

Not many quiet corners are found in the downtown area where Julie and I are staying. It's smack in the middle of downtown, near the touristy bits. We've immersed ourselves in Tango (hard to avoid, actually) and eaten the famous Parilla (grilled meats) almost every night. So much to tell, but I have to go! There's one more day to cram in more BA. Ciao & Besitos!

Putting away the trekking poles

2006-02-23T16:33:00.000-07:00

Hi all, sorry to be out of touch.

First, may I say how TOTALLY AMAZING the scenery is down here. Think I´m spoiled in Banff? Well, yes, but the drama of the mountains here comes from the fact that they rise suddenly and majestically from the rolling pampas (think prairie with a whole lot more spiny shrubby things).

Lu and I splurged on an overnight horseback expedition which took us 35 km from El Calafate to the once-renowned ranch of Bon Accord. We had a real gaucho for a guide, who cooked meat & veg to perfection over an open fire (which could have set the whole grassland on fire at a second´s notice) and topped up our tin cups with generous portions of red wine and whisky. Our kind of trip, for sure. We were the only guests on this excursion, so it felt pretty damned decadent. The host family at the ranch took in we gringas with good humor, and the visiting nephew showed us around his domain with the gusto only a nine-year-old can muster in the company of those who only partly understand what he is saying.

The real highlight of this part of the trip was not the sheepskin saddle (fine & comfy) or the sparkling glacial lake we rode beside, but the private tour we got of a defunct Estancia house. Everything was left as if the owners had just walked out one day (apparently not far from the truth - the estancia system collapsed in the 80's due to poor government policies, and many were sold to foreign owners). We walked into a time past, when the ranch held the only radio in the province, and was the social centre for the newly forming town. Gauchos lived and worked lifetimes on the ranch, tending a multitude of sheep and protecting them from the fierce pumas that stalked the pampas. Now there is a dim echo of that time, and the big house remains shut and unused, its contents left to the whims of time. It would make an amazing interpretive centre, with a bit of time and money. Hmmm... Career opportunity? Hard to say. The owners of the farm now favour a quiet lifestyle, with the occasional horseback visitor. Besides, it was far more moving to see the estate in this "found" condition than it would have been in a catalogued collection of artifacts. Still, the visit raised more questions about that lifestyle and time (and the family, in particular - all buried in a small graveyard on the property) than were answers available with the gaping gulf of language.

Anyway.

I started this entry talking about trekking. The short version of the story is that we hiked Los Glacieres National Park and now we´re done. I fly to Buenos Aires tomorrow to take in some of the Tango Festival, and drink some more red wine. My holiday is nearly done. In a couple of weeks, it will be back to reality & also back to my nearest and dearest.

Cheers!

No time for "woosers"

2006-02-16T07:14:00.000-07:00

Mom used to ask me all the time, when I was younger, to go for a walk. I detested going for a walk - not because my mother is bad company, but because I figured why should I walk when I have a perfectly good bike which will get me there faster?
Well, how times have changed.
I have just completed the longest walk of my life, thus far. Aproximately 130 km, with side trips: the full Torres del Paine circuit.
To give some perspective to this accomplishment, imagine hiking from Edmonton to Red Deer in 11 days (not so hard, you say). Now throw a bit of rugged terrain in the way ( a little harder). Just for fun, imagine some pretty large hills, say around 400 to 800 metres elevation gain or loss. Now make the trail nice and rocky, and add some boggy sections that have to be negotiated on rotting logs or muddy tufts of grass clinging to the slope. Throw in a few river crossings to add some spice, along with gusts of wind that can knock you sideways. Still not enough challenge? Oh, yeah, and you have to carry all the supplies you will need for the whole excursion (food, fuel, tent, clothing & sundries) which adds up to a load of about 60 lbs on your back.

This is what trekkers call ... "fun"

It was fun, believe it or not! There is something about that level of physical challenge, when, if you rise to meet it, makes you feel immensely powerful.
The first couple of days test your mettle by sheer length of the trail. We started with a 20km hike on relatively easy terrain, but with the packs at their heaviest, it was a really long march for that last kilometre into camp. Julie ( a lone traveller from Vancouver who became a member of our hiking party) was suffering horribly from blisters already. We patched her up with moleskin and duct tape & kept going.
Day two was only a couple of km shorter, but for bodies which had been sedentary on the Navimag ferry for half a week, it was pain pain pain.
Day 3 was a shorter jaunt to Glaciar Los Perros, but the terrain got more challenging. More ups and downs, more tree roots, more rocks to clamber over.
Day 4 dawned to whipping winds, and because of the comfort of the camp and our low energy, we decided on a rest day. Julie´s feet needed a break, and the weather didn´t look very good for crossing the pass - it was reputedly the most challenging part of the trail & not advised in bad weather. So we all slept until we couldn´t sleep any more, then installed ourselves in the cook shelter for the remainder of the day.
The rest was desperately needed, but a couple of things happened that confirmed that a break had been the right decision. First, we met a group of guides and porters who were serving a small party on an all-inclusive adventure tour. These folks wanted to walk the circuit, but in style and comfort. They carried only day packs, while the crew took their gear and plenty of food and treats from camp to camp. These were clearly fellas to befriend. We never mooched, but since we happened to be sitting around the cook shelter, the cook for the guided group offered us a few tidbits of salami and cheese (precious things on the trail - they don´t keep long!) Shortly after dinner was done with their guests, the pisco sour came out. They offered to share with us because they didn´t want to have to carry any extra supplies over the pass the next day. We couldn´t argue with that reasoning, and, never able to refuse pisco sour, soon we were swapping stories & trying on the gaucho (cowboy) gear of one of the porters. It was a scream. For the next four days, we kept pace with this party, and every night, we hung out with the guides. They always had a treat or two for us, and we became fast friends.
The other good reason for stopping was the weather. On the day of the dreaded crossing of the pass, the notoriously devilish Patagonian weather held in our favour, and we reached the crux of the trail (Paso John Garner - famous for gale force winds) under a crystal-clear sky. It was so calm on the pass that we stopped for a leisurely lunch overlooking Glaciar Grey. Mauricio (our guide buddy) said that he´d never seen the conditions so good in the six years he´d been guiding the trail.
The descent from the pass to the next camp was (as Lu puts it) " G.I. Jane." We dropped about 8oom elevation in 2.5km or so - stupidly steep. Most of the trail down involved hanging on to a tree trunk and jumping down to the next one. Crazy!
From Campamento Paso, it was a quick hop to the next camp at Lago Grey, where Lu and I splurged on a guided hike on the glacier. It was worth the price just for the zodiac ride across the iceberg-strewn lake. We were going about Mach 4 through choppy ice-water at the toe of a calving glacier. YEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Up on the glacier, we tried a simple ice climb & took plenty of photos, even though it´s impossible to capture the place properly.
The next day, we got a taste of the famous Patagonian wind. I watched a tent (not ours!) fold completly to the ground under the force of it. By this camp, we had made it to the "front side" where folks could get a taste of the park by hiking the 4 or 5 day "W" trail, which we had now joined. The campsites became busier and noisier. We saw more people hiking in jeans (aaaack), or without packs at all, and we developed a fierce pride about what we had accomplished already on the circuit. Those hiking the "W" became "woosers" - not like the "C" for Circuit that we were doing. We were Complete. Capable. Courageous. Champions.
I have to give special credit to Julie, who kept on going, despite heels that looked like hamburger when we took off the bandages. She had a terrible cold and cough the entire trail, and became so ill that she had to leave a day ahead of Lu and I - before seeing the towers. She finished the circuit, though, and for that she is anything but a "wooser"!
There are so many moments I´ll remember from this extraordinary hike. We saw an enormous landscape on an intimate level. On the last morning in the park, Lu and I got up before dawn to clamber up a moraine for a sunrise view of the namesake of the park - the Torres del Paine. We were rewarded with a soul-searing vista as the rosy light of dawn played on the cold granite peaks. It was the perfect send-off.
I left the park with a bittersweet feeling. Our time on the trail was so intense, the weather so fantastic, that I don´t dare ever come back, for fear that it could never be so good again.

Time to leave Puerto Natales, and Chile, today. We are heading for El Calafate this afternoon, to see what Argentina has in store. It means that this epic adventure is almost at a close, which makes me very sad, but we´ll cram some more in to the next couple of weeks, I´m sure!

Lovin´ the boat!

2006-02-03T06:45:00.000-07:00

Here I am, fresh from a four day sea voyage that was supposed to have taken three. Lu and I hopped the ferry from Puerto Montt to Puerto Natales on Monday afternoon, and the sailing was smooth and sunny for two days. Then, in the wee hours of Wednesday, one of the engines failed, the power went out, and we very nearly ran aground on several occasions in the two hours following as the crew tried to navigate a narrow channel with half-power. Sounds scary, but most of the passengers were too drunk to care. Not I, of course! (gasp of incredulity) We´d already turned in for the night, but got up to investigate when the engine stopped. We weren´t sure whether or not to have our warm clothes on, in case we had to abandon ship. As long as we weren´t sinking, though, the ship was really the best place to be, engines or no. The area through which we sailed is some of the least populated and rugged terrain on earth. Deep fjords with rocky shores and glaciers tumbling into the sea. Awesome is too mild a word.
As for the trouble with the ship, it all turned out all right. The malfunction stranded us overnight in a bay, until the marine authority could come to the ship and determine the remaining engine sound enough to make the rest of the trip. Some passengers chose to transfer to another boat in the morning to try to make connecting busses and flights, but most of the backpackers just shrugged and smiled. Mañana. We´ll get there when we get there. The crew kept feeding us three meals a day, and there was still beer in the pub, so all was dandy. As it was, we all got an extra night accomodation plus meals for no extra money, and that´s all happy in the world of the backpacker.
The ship exceeded our expectations on many levels.
What we had thought would be a chaotic, foul-smelling, cramped and dirty boat turned out to be damned fine luxury for the price paid! We booked dorm beds on the Magallenes ferry, dreading 22 unwashed people in a tiny, airless room below sea level, in cuddling distance to the engine. To our delight, the dorms were more like cabins - bright and relatively airy for ship´s quarters, with only four people actually sharing a space, and curtains for privacy around each generous single bunk bed. This company has clearly figured out their market. The whole trip was tailored for the trekker, with informative talks and films, plus parties and bingo in the evening.
Wonderful.
For the first time, we were truly forced to relax. Nothing to plan, no place to be, except at meals (rigidly scheduled and eagerly anticipated). We dozed, read books, attended the activities, had the leisure to chat & made many new friends from all over the world. Most of them will be on the Torres del Paine trails in the coming week.
Curious about the sights? Search Torres del Paine, and check it out. Breathtaking. Sharp towers of granite, carved by glaciers, and surrounded by the remnants of the same, with flowery meadows and glacial lakes dotting the valleys. This hike (epic at 10 days) is a world classic, and I can´t wait!
So, dear friends, I will be out of contact for a little while. It´s all for a good cause, though my poor feet are not likely to agree with that sentiment until it´s all over.
Here´s hoping for good weather!
Ciao
L

Strollin´ on the beach

2006-01-29T07:10:00.000-07:00

The last two days have been heaven and hell, simultaneously. How is that possible, you ask? Well, imagine a long walk beside the Pacific surf - the sound of seagulls in the air, soft sand underfoot, and a misty haze surrounding you as the damp sand sends its moisture into the sky when kissed by the sun. Ahh. How lovely.
Now imagine that same beach four hours later. You are still on it, still walking. Sand is in every crevice of body and backpack. Muscles ache from trudging through mile after mile of beach. Legs are so sunburnt it feels like the skin will split with every step. Not so lovely.
Yep, we hiked 10k on a sandy beach, then some more on trails, probably about 22 kilometres by the time we pitched our tent in a farmer´s field among the geese and horses and innumerable dogs. Needless to say, we were a little tired. We scarfed down a mouthwatering concoction of sundried tomatoes, sausage and instant mashed potatoes (believe me, it was the best thing I´d ever tasted after a day like that) and tucked into the tent. Lulled by the sound of the waves once again, we slept like rocks, despite the feeling that my legs were going to self-combust from the sunburn. The next day, we got up and did the long walk on the beach all the way back...
Now I have aloe gel and life is all better.
We´ve treated ourselves very kindly on rest days, and got a cute little cabaña in Castro (capital of the island of Chiloé) where we can cook and do laundry. The contrast of camping to these forays into civilization is a bit shocking to the system, but Lu and I both like our creature comforts. Plus, it´s heavy to carry so much red wine, so we have to stop in town sometimes. We are also questioning the sanity of hiking the 8 day Torres del Paine circuit with 60 lbs on each of our backs, but we are committed now!
Tonight we head to Puerto Montt, from which we catch the ferry south to Patagonia tomorrow. The journey will take 3 1/2 days, and we are hoping for good weather! The island of Chiloé has been fantastic, and I am sad to leave, but we´ve done what we came here to do. I will not miss the horseflies!
Happy trails! Seeya at the South Pole!

Chillin´ on Chiloé

2006-01-26T14:46:00.000-07:00

Hi, all - sorry about the lack of photos. I lost a bit of camera gear (not the camera!) so it´s a real pain to post photos at the moment.
We made it to the island of Chiloé, about halfway down the country, and it´s blissfully warm. For the previous two days, Lu and I hiked the west coast of the island, from the village of Chepu to the national park and back. The scenery is stunning - the Pacific Ocean hurling its waves at the rocks below, colonies of penguins sunning themselves on skerries, and flowers everywhere. Despite the beauty, most of the vegetation has spikes or thorns of some kind. Even the ferns are tough and leathery! Still, it´s so nice to be in a summer environment.
The Pacific breeze played nice with us for the hike, and the weather stayed warm and sunny, but the wind was no deterrent to hordes of humungous horseflies that plagued us for the length of our hike. These things were vicious! They went for joints - shoulders, wrists, elbows, knees - and they wanted blood. They seemed to like Lu better than me, thankfully, but they nearly drove the pair of us crazy!
We preservered, and were repaid with the gregarious company of Paméla, a resident of the land adjacent to the national park. She and her husband, Manuél, live in a remote settlement and harvest seaweed for a living. They host campers on their land. We stayed as soon as they told us about the penguins - an excellent camping spot in earshot of the ocean, with great amenities as long as you like cold showers and plenty of horse shit on the ground. Paméla hiked us up a hill to look for Zorros del Mar (seals) , but no luck. We´d seen one of these massive fellas sunning himself on a beach on the way up to the campground, anyway, so we didn´t feel cheated. The penguins, alas were separated from us by a high tide and pounding surf. We couldn´t wait long enough for the tide to go out in order to see them - we had a meeting with our return boat to Chepu scheduled, and were terrified to miss it. So the penguins remained distant, and we caught the boat. One small compensation was that the boat captain refused to take our money for the 45 minute ride to Chepu.
So much more to tell, but for now, I have to go!
Sending you all sunny thoughts,
L

Doing nothing is hard work.

2006-01-22T16:42:00.000-07:00

Lu and I had a ¨proper travel day¨today. We had been moved from our little cabin paradise to a hotel just down the road, due to a wedding party filling the whole facility on our intended second night at the cabins. No trouble, since the new place had bikes for rent, and the grand plan for today was to cycle all day, then catch a night bus to Puerto Montt.
We got up and secured the bikes after a hearty breakfast of croissants, jam, and instant coffee (it´s all Nescafé down here. Pity.). Our trusty mountain bikes whirred happily to the bus station, where we got the tickets for the long haul tonight. Then we decided on a challenging trail up the hill just outside town, which afforded an amazing view of Talca and the Maule Valley. At the end of the trail we discovered a movie-star quality house with a tempting azure pool. It´s just a little barbed wire, we thought, and probably nobody is home...
No, friends, we didn´t break in for a swim. We changed course, and, because we are both guides and have an amazing sense of direction, decided to follow a faint trail back down through the woods. (It was hot! We needed the shade.)
The barbed-wire fence should have been the first clue that this was not an "official" trail. We crossed it anyway, confident that the road was not far. This assumption was correct, but in order to get to the road, we had to excuse ourselves across a farmer´s yard. He took it with good grace, and we were just about to continue toward town when my rear tire went flat. Completely.
Sheepishly, we returned to the farmer´s home and, with the help of the phrasebook and the internationally understood waving of the hands, got one of the ladies of the house to call our hotel and report our situation.
So it was, that we passed an entertaining half hour, making the smallest of small talk with an entire Chilean family, sitting in the shade outside their casa. The best was when the matriarch of the clan, preparing vegetables for the midday meal, made a joke about her husband and the large number of children they had - it needed no translation!
After a while, Jaime (our personal concierge at Hotel de Rio) picked us up and brought us and the bikes back to the hotel, all in one piece. So much for cycling, and it was only 1:30! What to do?!
Lunch, naturally.
Sunday had us worried, since a lot of the businesses close in this very religious country. We´d stockpiled some goodies in case nothing was open for a meal. Never fear, Chileans love their food! Near the main square we found a charming restaurant with a patio, and tucked in to some amazing local specialties: I had a bean and corn stew topped with crispy pork cutlets, and Lu got a tender braised chicken with fries (FYI: the Andes are the birthplace of the potato. Ireland only borrowed it!). Topped off with the ubiquitous Pisco Sour, a devillish combination of the local grape brandy, lemon juice, sugar and egg white (trust me, it´s great!) we felt pretty lethargic in the 30 degree heat.
Best remedy? A pool!
Trouble is, neither of us is very good at doing nothing. We discovered this at the local pool, when after about 15 minutes of sunning our pink selves, we were ready to go. Awww, poor dears, you are thinking, right? But it´s a lot of work to force yourself to do nothing when you are accustomed to being busy all of the time! At least we are both like this. It would be really hard if one of us was up to staring at the ripples on the water, but we were both bored.
You can always count on kids for a laugh, so we hung out at the kiddie pool, and fell in love with a pint-sized scamp of a boy, about three years old, who was playing with a plastic shark. We feigned terror at the shark, and he ran back and forth in the shallow water, saying "grr! grrr!" Good times for all.
The afternoon stretched like taffy at a fair, but we hung out at that pool for three and a half hours.
Next big idea was to take a nice bottle of red wine we´d acquired yesterday, and sip it gracefully by the side of the river. Guess. The riverside was a zoo of humanity (mixed with the hordes of wild dogs that roam the streets, the donkeys and ponys to ride, and two gringas that probably could have set up a freakshow tent ¨see the giant gringa!¨to fund the remainder of our trip. Yeah, there have been a lot of stares.) We didn´t see anybody else drinking outdoors, and were getting looked at enough, so we felt like we ought to hide the wine, or at least disguise it. So we walked the whole length of the riverside park, looking for a quiet, shady spot to open the bottle. No such thing was to be found. The place was crawling with what seemed like half of Talca´s 200 000 people. Vendors and hawkers lined the sidewalks, offering cold drinks, ice cream, churros, and all sorts of trinkets. So we ducked behind a bush, dodging the dogs sleeping in the evening heat, and popped the cork. An MEC mug disguised the beverage, and we giggled all the way back to the boulevard, where we finally found a shady place to sit. There went another hour, but what to do, what to do? Busy girls have to stay busy!
So now I come to you, my dear readers, and pour it all out here. It´s almost time to catch the bus now. We´re headed south, to cooler weather. Seems strange to say that, but that´s how it works here! The island of Chiloé has a two-day and a three-day hike that will be warmups to the big hike in Torres del Paine National Park. After Chiloé, we catch a ferry to near the very southern tip of the continent, where there should be penguins!
For now, it´s an overnight bus to a new adventure tomorrow.
G´nite!

It´s not broken, I´m okay.

2006-01-21T07:52:00.000-07:00

Whew! It was a whirlwind return home, and I now report from the fantastic town of Talca, south of Santiago, Chile. Current temperature is 25 degrees Celcius, and it´s sunny like it´s never going to stop. Lu and I are staying at Stella Borbastero, an incredible piece of paradise in the middle of wine country (it has a pooooooooool!) and we are soaking away the stress of Santiago.
Typing is still a bit difficult, due to an incident in Saskatoon. Hence the title of today´s entry. Here´s the scoop:
My soon-to-be-sister-in-law graciously arranged for me to have a massage on the day after my arrival in Saskatoon. I was in such a tizzy to get to this massage that I forgot an important rule of physics. See, my car had been stowed in part of the three car garage - the one with the manual door, as opposed to the section with the automatic door. Due to my extreme excitement at the prospect of a damned fine backrub, I wasn´t thinking about how best to close the garage door behind me. I could have easily closed the manual door from the inside, then hit the button for the automatic and ducked under as it descended. Oh, no, my friends, what did I do? I made a valiant attempt to close the manual garage door from the outside, grasping it by the little ledge, and giving it a good shove downwards.
This is where physics took over.
The downward force could have closed the garage door, had it not been for the presence of my middle and index fingers of my right hand on the little ledge. Unfortunately for aforementioned fingers, the ledge that I was using for purchase closed up as the door went down, effectively bludgeoning my fingertips under my own force.
In the half-second that it took for this message to register from my fingers to my brain, I knew that my strategy for getting the door closed had been a BAD IDEA.
To make a long, painful story short (believe me, I could go on...) Mom determined that the fingertip is only cracked a little bit, it´s healing well enough that I can type with it now, the fingernail might not fall off, and I made it to the massage! So life´s not all so bad.
(Okay, the massage sent my back into spasms, but Karen fixed that (she´s a miracle worker! Support your local chiropractor!!!) and then I got a cold, but that´s getting better, plus I had a bag stolen in Santiago, but I was not threatened or physically harmed, and I didn´t lose anything I couldn´t replace, so life is still all right. Mom & Dad, please don´t worry. Everybody else in Chile is extremely helpful and nice - this could have happened anywhere.)
And now Lu and I are going on a vineyard tour with the sweetest hotelier ever! He couldn´t find us a guide for the day, so he is driving us around himself! I expect to be pleasantly buzzed by dinnertime.
By the way - Empañadas are delicious.
Ciao, niños!

2006-01-10T09:58:00.000-07:00

I have never known a cat so adept at typing as Wendy-Bear (see her comments on previous posts). She is currently helping me at the computer by purring loudly and offering editorial suggestions. She likes this photo because it makes her look slim.

2006-01-10T09:53:00.000-07:00

Those of you who know me well, know my deep, abiding love of food. This meal was my sendoff from Stockholm. I found a medieval restaurant and had a rustic plate of sausage and saurkraut (eep! Cabbage!) with a frosty glass of mead. All of this was served by proper wenches in a candlelit basement in historic Gamla Stan. The building probably dated back to the 1500s! The food was considerably fresher.

2006-01-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

Poland is a strongly Catholic country, and it was no surprise to see their beloved, recently departed Pope John Paul II immortalized in a sculpture in St. Kinga's chapel in the Salt Mine. ("Kyle! No licking the Pope!")

2006-01-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

Kyle just couldn't stop licking the walls in the Weiliczka salt mine. This was a super-highlight of the trip ( the mine, not Kyle licking things. Dirty birdies...)

2006-01-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

By the way, I am back in Canada, but this is an attempt to catch up, from so many days away from a computer while on the road. This is a market stall in Cracow, where I purchased a local cheese (that's the cheese on the stall behind me) which is lightly smoked, and a nice accompaniment to the local pretzel-type bread (see previous post). We lived off this stuff for two days! With a bit of wine and some chocolate, it was damn near heaven.

2006-01-10T09:27:00.000-07:00

The print might be a little small, but these are the regulations posted on the ferry for the importation of duty-free liquor from Poland to Sweden: 10L of Spirits, 20L of Intermediate Products (fortified wine), 90L of Wine, and 110L of Beer!!! Now, the issue is: how can I carry all of that? No problem. They will sell you a cart on the ferry to get it all home!

2006-01-08T06:35:00.000-07:00

Street food in Cracow. They have these pretzel-like bread rings (for about a quarter!) that are sold from carts all over the place. We lived on them for two days, just for fun. And they contained no cabbage whatsoever. Gotta run now - catching a plane to Stockholm today! Back in Canada on the 10th. Besos to all!

2006-01-08T06:32:00.000-07:00

'kay, so it's a little blurry, but this is where the whole Snow White thing started. Well, maybe I'm making that up, but this is from the most amazing place I've visited yet on the trip: the Weiliczka Salt mine, just south of Cracow. Salt has been mined here since about 1300, and the chambers are filled with sculptures and chapels carved out of the salt rock. For those of us who are Heritage nerds, this is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, too! I completey reccommend a visit, if you are ever in Poland. Wowee.

2006-01-08T06:26:00.000-07:00

We did a lot of this in the last few days - slog luggage from one train to another. The train system is quite excellent in Poland, as long as you are vigilant against thieves (apparently they are fairly common, and sometimes spray drugs into compartments to incapacitate the passengers, then rob them) although we had no problems. We lucked out on all of the train rides, getting lots of elbow room, and only sharing with a few people. On the overnighter to Ocweicim, we played Jedi mind tricks on people inspecting our car for a place to sit. "this is not the car you want to sit in..." Also,the violent coughing that we were doing might have discouraged them. No, we weren't sick. Just crafty. Crafty....

Positively Poznan

2006-01-04T12:19:00.000-07:00

Anna is an amazing tour guide and very gracious hostess. We have seen the major sights in Poznan, shopped until our feet ached, dined at some of the finest establishments (more detail below) and museumed ourselves smart! Not bad for two days in town...
One of the curiosities of Polish cuisine is the apparent fascination with cabbage. Not that it's such a bad thing, it's just really noticeable when it features in every meal (except breakfast, thanks to our hostess!). We sampled the delights of the Sphinx restaurant last night, since for Kyle and I, the prices were uber-cheap (a huge meal plus wine and dessert for three people came to about $35 Cdn. ). Sphinx is like an Earl's-type place. It's a chain, and they have a policy of hiring cute boys to serve there, in order to attract the female clientele, who apparently make all the decisions on where to go (go Poland!!!). Dinner consisted of an assortment of tasty grilled meats, flatbread, spiced rice, and you guessed it: about 2 lbs of shredded cabbage. Sure, the cabbage was half red and half green, and both varieties came with a tasty dressing, but it was the wallflower of the meal, I have to say.
Another curiosity we encountered today, lunching on peirogies (that's the local spelling) at a holdover of the communist days. The name translates to "milk bar" and you can find no-frills, filling, and very local style food at these places, still subsidized by the government, for about $3 per person.
Enough about food, for now. Shopping in Poland is a treat! A treat if you are young, skinny, and read Vogue a lot. For me, clothing is just not the thing to buy here. Kyle and I both figure that neither of us is cool enough to pull off some of the items on offer. Nice to look, tho.
Sorry for the lack of photos - I'll update those when I get back to my computer in Sveeeden.
Tonight's festivities include taking an overnight train to Cracow to see Auchwitz in the morning. Not the most cheerful holiday spot, but I feel compelled to pay homage to the millions who suffered there. Being so geographically close, there is really no excuse to miss it. Unless you are Jim Keegstra and the whole thing "never happened." It's a bit grim to think that the place where so many suffered is a tour destination. At least Disney hasn't got ahold of it... (C'mon kids! Let's go for a train ride!) Yeecchh.
So with those happy thoughts, I bid you farewell until the next big shiny installment of "pole to pole with ME!!!

P.S. It's still okay to email me! I do check, y'know... And I simply adore the comments - keep it up!

Happy New Year!!!

2006-01-03T04:46:00.000-07:00

SO... first of all, I would like to wish all of my friends and family following this blog (and even those who aren't) a very happy and prosperous new year. It was definitely an experience to ring in 2006 in Karlskrona. The whole town goes nuts with fireworks! All day on the 31st, people were setting off noismaker firecrackers in the streets & in their yards, then when midnight struck, the place looked & sounded like a war zone (minus the screaming in agony & bloodshed). I wish I could post video, to show you what it was like!
Kyle and I had front-row seats for the display in the sky: we were having dinner with some of his classmates from the Sustainable Development program, in this totally amazing manor house on a hill, with a balcony overlooking a good deal of the city. The landlady showed up at about 11:30 with her son and a whole lot of fireworks of our own to launch from the balcony. I thought, from the size of the fireworks, that they would be pretty meagre, but WOW! They were the full-on type that you see at Canada Day!
So we toasted 2006 with some bubbly and watched Mad Max, because it happened to come on right after the Swedish version of Dick Clark had done his thing.
The next day was spent in some hard-core relaxation, and we packed to go to Poland.
Yesterday, we hit the road at 6:30 to catch a ferry to Gdynia (10 1/2 hours across the Baltic Sea). Upon reaching Poland, we promptly got turned around & took the right bus the wrong way. All persons that we'd asked at the ferry terminal insisted that the 150 bus would take us straight to the train station. "You can't miss it!" was the consensus. We missed it. We dutifully hopped on the first 150 that we saw, and rode it to the end of the line, with nary a train station in sight. When, at the final stop, the last few passengers bailed out, and the driver turned off the engine, we approached him with the words "train station" in Polish, written on a scrap of paper. He laughed his ass off. He motioned for us to stay put. In a few minutes, he started the engine again, and we went whizzing back along the route we had just come, past the ferry station, and to the very obvious train station. Phew.
I'm very glad to have the "point-it" book (a traveller's tool of all kinds of images to help you communicate), and I'm sure it will continue to come in handy, since I am hopeless at Polish, and very few people seem to speak English. Their attitude is friendly and willing to try to help and communicate, though, so that makes me feel a bit more comfortable.
The train ride was not so comfy, though. Because of our ineptitude with the bus, Kyle and I were left with very little time at the train station to figure things out. We got tickets to Poznan, thanks to Anna, who sent the appropriate phrase to get what we wanted. Finding the track to catch said train was a bit more of a challenge. The departure boards were unclear, and constantly changing. We ran from platform to platform with our heavy bags and couldn't get a straight answer from anybody. Finally, we asked a young man waiting on a platform where the train to Poznan was, and he explained that it would arrive just before the departure time. Great! That meant we had 25 minutes to grab food from the kiosk downstairs. Gawd. An epic unto itself!
There were two kebab stands open in the questionably clean station. One was lined up a dozen bodies deep. Too busy. We were in a hurry. We chose the other stand, which was sporting one customer, and ordered two kebabs. Kebabs here are very different from back home: they are slathered in a ranch-type dressing, filled with shredded cabage and rotisserie chicken, and topped off with another heart-stopping dollop of creamy sauce. Tasty, tho!
Anyway, the woman behind the kebab counter soon made it plain why there was nobody at her stand. As we watched in dismay as the dozen customers at the other stand, then a dozen more, got their food and scurried off to their trains, we watched Slowey McSlowerson plod from the bread to the meat, the meat to the sauce, the sauce to the veg and back again in a circle that seemed to accomplish little more than fray our nerves. We checked the time. 10 minutes to departure. Our Kebab lady checked the progress of the grilling bread, and was about to give it another bit. I nearly shouted at her, and made some gestures to indicate that it was bloody well good enough and we had to go! She took the hint and proceeded to very slowly fill my kebab with an intricate arrangement of fillings. I took the meal and ran for the train, leaving Kyle to catch up as best he could (at least I could try to get the train to wait for him). As I was approaching the platform I had terrible visions of there being no food allowed in the cars (and a five-hour journey ahead!) but thankfully, it was all okee-dokee. Kyle made it with moments to spare.
The ride down was dark and steamy, since the fellow passengers closed the window, and it was to remain closed for the whole time. Most of the way, we dozed, interrupted a few times by military-type ticket collectors, who inspected our tickets repeatedly. Intimidating, but not as bad as I had feared on Polish trains.
So this post is coming from the city of Poznan, in north-central Poland. The county is Pomerania (yes, home of the little fur-ball dogs) and we haven't seen too much of it yet, but the first impression is of a fairly gritty facade. The churches and historic buildings we glimpsed in the dark from the train are truly spectacular, and Anna is going to show us around many of them here. The plan is to head to Cracow & see the well-preserved old town there.
She left us to sleep in this morning, and we awoke at noon to a beautiful breakfast laid out on the table! What a gal.
Can't wait to see more of Poland!