Argentina Bound

I leave Tuesday for a six-day Andes crossing ride into Argentina. Once we reach the border on Saturday, I will return to Antilco with the horses and gear but my riders continue on with an Argentine guide and new horses for three more days through western Argentina. Because livestock cannot be transported across the border, we accomplish the two-country ride by partnering with Don Hernan, and Argentine rancher. I’ve never done this ride before, but Carmen’s and Monica’s pictures have given me a glimpse of the countryside to come and I can’t wait. The majority of the trails are unknown to me, and instead of Luis, another cowboy named Aldo will come as the guide. It’s back to learning as I go and improvising, but my riders are four young German girls, so I’m hoping they’ll be flexible and good humored about it all.

In the morning we’ll greet them for breakfast then do the half-day circuit to make sure horses and riders match, and eventually, like the Rio Blanco Ride, we’ll trailer the horses to Laguna Geppingue and eat a huge chicken dinner before heading out early the next morning. I’m thrilled to finally get out into territory I’ve never seen and to physically cross the Andes. They are magnificent and awe inspiring, and there is something excitingly primitive about tackling them on horseback.

I’ll be back in a week, with a full update, but before I leave, I wanted to put down a few lingering thoughts that never found a place in the other entries:

BROOM: There is a scrubby bush called Broom which is invasive in this area, but thrives in the arid volcanic sand and has taken over the river sides around Pucón. It doesn’t grow much more than seven or eight feet high but its thin green stems spray out like a miniature weeping willow, giving it width. In springtime it explodes with showers of incredible, buttery yellow flowers which obscure any sign of the plant beneath. They grow close together and our paths are narrow which makes riding in November and December seem like we’re brushing through clouds of tangible sunshine. Two years ago, I looked forward to the riverside stretch the best; I’d ride ahead and disappear into a sea of yellow.

By January the petals are gone and fuzzy, white, oblong seed pods hang in their place. By now, they’ve turned black and are hard and dry. When we brush between or beneath the sprawling branches the pods rattle and add a simple jangling soundtrack to the river’s churning. When I ride past, I like to snap the pods from their stem (a habit that does nothing to slow the invasive species’ spread). In a brilliant evolutionary development aimed at self-preservation, the pods forcefully burst open and empty their seeds when detached from the stem. It’s a surprise to feel idly pulled pods explode in your hand, but our rides are filled with the rattling and crackling of the broom plants striving for biological immortality, and I love the sound.

GAP YEARS: Today I rode with two mid-twenties Australian guys who have been in Pucón for two weeks learning Spanish at Karin’s language school. One spent the fall in the states finishing his law degree at Tulane, so he understood something of the difference between American’s university educations and the rest of the world. What he found incomprehensible is the USA’s complete lack of a gap year tradition. American students are expected to finish high school, go to college, and immediately enter the grind, while Australians take as a given that they’ll spend about a year, before or after University, traveling or working abroad and seeing a bit of the world. Their ability to take this time off has nothing to do with financial liberty, but rather with cultural liberty. In the U.S. activities are expected to directly contribute to a career and future gain. On the other hand, there is an innate prioritization of personal development in Australian culture, and getting worldly perspective by traveling is accepted as a positive. It is a broad cultural difference, but for Australia’s youth, it’s a freeing one, and I envy them and the cultural support they have to go adventuring.  

·         Karin, Mara, and Remo are back from Santiago and the house is again filled with food and noise, and stories about their adventures at Fantasyland (an amusement park) and the art museums. I’m thrilled they’re back. My time with Mara and Remo will lessen soon as I’m gone through February trekking and they go back to school March 1.

·         The raspberries and cherries are completely gone, but some early plums are deep purple and ripe. There is a tree outside my room of bite size, spherical, yellow plums which I eat by the dozens and can’t stay away from. Most delicious are the blackberries. I’ve only found a few ripe, black ones among the thorns, but the trails are lined with vines and in a few more weeks I’ll feast during every ride.

Now, I’m off into the mountains, to cross the Andes on horseback, and (hopefully) will return in six days. Luego!