Chilean Rains

Summer in Pucón is typically dry, sunny and hot enough for rafting, boating and bathing. But we’ve spent four days under overcast skies and have had few breaks from the aggressive downpours. Our dirt road snakes up the edge a small mountain crest and parts of it have washed out, which makes sharing the road while riding with trucks a treacherous adventure. It’s not only rainy, but bitterly cold as well. We light a fire in the main house and Monica and I turn the gas heater on in our room to make the nights a bit warmer.  Sometimes in the evenings we can hardly hear each other over the din of the downpourhitting the tin roof of the house. Mathias says he’s never seen a summer like this.  

I’ve led two sopping half-day rides in as many days. We bring ponchos for the riders, who are usually beginners, but it’s still four hours in the rain, brushing through wet branches and slipping down sloshing paths. I like to see how excited I can make the riders about the uniqueness of the experience. Eventually, they forget that they’re wet and freezing and concentrate on the adventure of it all. As we ride down the driveway back to Antilco, they’re mud splattered and dripping wet, but they smile hugely and thank me for all the fun. These are my favorite rides.

We had an exciting night Saturday in the hardest rain yet. The entire Boss family went to Pucón for a rare dinner out together, and Carmen and I stayed home to welcome back Monica from Chile- Argentina trek. Last Monday she left with two tourists for five-day trek to the Argentine border. There, the tourists crossed the border on foot and met Mathias’ Argentine partner, Hernan. They mounted new horses and rode for three more days on the others side of the Andes. Monica, however, loaded our horses into a huge truck, along with all of the saddles and gear, and came back to Antilco. Unlike the towed horse trailers used in the U.S., the Chileans put all the horses in the open bed of a truck to transport them. They loaded at 2:00 in sunshine, but quickly met rain. By the time they arrived to Antilco, water had soaked through the wool padding on the saddles and the horses were jumpy and skittish with fear, having spent six hours bouncing over rural roads in a rainstorm. 

Carmen and I drove a quarter of a mile down the road to meet the truck in the only place it could pull over safely. It is usually light until 9:30 here, but the black clouds and sheets of rain gave us an early nightfall at 8:00. I led the four horses off the truck, tied them to one another in a chain, and, running, led them the quarter mile back down the road, back to Antilco, and into their pasture. Carmen and Monica unloaded the gear, thanked the truck driver and sped back to the barn. We laid the gear out the best we could, but knew nothing would dry overnight. Tents, sleeping bags, saddle pads and riding chaps would have to be stretched out the next day in the sun.

But, there was no sun on Sunday, but we took advantage of a few clear hours on Monday to dry and repair all the gear. Since we three workers here (Carmen, Monica and I), we take turn guiding and do other ranch work in the meantime. The half-chaps, which cover the bottom half of the leg, need endless mending; leather saddle bags need conditioned with Mathias’ homemade mixture of beewax, oil and turpentine; the crude leather bridles wear often need re-stitched; and the horses frequently wear out their shoes and need hoof attention.

For this last chore we are helped by Luis, a charismatic, proud man who lives two miles down the road and is, in all senses of the word, a genuine cowboy and knows it too. He is about forty-years old and wears his hair in a black ponytail at the nape of his neck. He decorates his belts with silver medals, and carries a worn, brown leather jacket. He’s eager to make sure foreign girls are well-aware of his prowess, but there is nothing affected about him. He’s half mystery, half legend, calming even the most anxious horses, finding passages through unblazed rainforest, and easily rounding up horses spread wide over acres of pasture land. He comes once every-week and a half or so to shoe the horses and, on Thursday, even deigned to teach Carmen and I. Though, “teach” is a generous word. Mostly he leaned back against the barn and laughed when I struggled to file the hoof correctly, or smirked, muttering that he could do it better and faster. I would hope. We spent four hours on six shoes. It was a job he could have done in an hour. I am thrilled to learn though, and should have plenty of opportunities to practice cutting away the old nail, filing down the remainder to a smooth, level plane, fitting the shoe and hammering it on.

This has turned in to a long entry, but this first week has been hectic. Only a few more thoughts…

                The property has over a dozen fruit trees (cherries, plums, apples, pears) and a huge garden that Karin tends. The cherries are ripe, as well as a few plums and a huge raspberry patch, and I find plenty of opportunities to steal away for ten minutes devouring fruit. The German-Chilean cuisine the Boss’ eat is very bread, cream, potato and meat heavy. Cream is more of a staple than a dessert treat, and they pour it liberally into tomato sauce and coffee alike.  The hidden traps in their diet snuck up on me last time, and I was determined not to fall into them again. So instead, I sit high in the trees and gorge myself on cherries. I even picked a bagful and made a kuchen (a fruit tart with an egg/cream filling) for the family. Upon tasting it, Remo paused, his face contorting, then said, “Interesting… I think I will add sugar.” He spooned on a thick layer of sugar, and followed with a quarter inch of cream. The rest of the family followed suit.

                As for everything else that fills my days, I am happy and having wonderful fun. Two years ago, my experience was more solitary. This time, we are three girls working together (in the rain). It’s added an element of friendship that wasn’t here last time. We’ve seriously begun a mini language school and take turns learning and teaching. I teach Carmen and Monica Spanish, although they speak some already, and they listen to me butcher German day after day. I’ve been picking it up pretty quickly though and committed to practicing.  Unfortunately, they both leave at the end of the month and I’ll be here alone through February until another German girl arrives March 1^st.

                I leave Friday for a three day trek through much of the same territory I trekked two years ago. With six riders, we’ll ride through the mountains to some natural hot springs called Rio Blanco then return. Then I’ll lead four riders overnight up into the Pitraco mountains for my birthday. I have two more treks scheduled, including an eleven-day ride, and am hoping there will be more. I plan to leave Antilco for two weeks around March 15^th to travel south through Patagonia, - so if you want an adventure vacation (spring break), come travel with me! For now though, everything is wet but wonderful.