Leaving Antuco, celebrating my birthday, and walking to Community Puente Ingles and San Fabian

Louise, Neon and Fidgit leaving Antuco

Fidgit walking along above Laguna Las Lajas

The (late) morning of January 1st, 2017 (how did that happen?!) Fidgit and I packed up and hitch-hiked back to the trail. We got a ride with a kind couple who were only going a short distance and dropped us at a bus stop a few kilometers past their turn off. We then were picked up by a guide/engineer, Louise, who was heading to the same place we were for a day-hike. Louise ended up walking with us most of the day, excited to have company as well as share his knowledge of the area with us. We parted ways late in the day when our paths diverged. Fidgit and I headed up a steep rocky area to continue Jan's GPT route along Laguna Las Lajas, and Louise hiked to a lake nearby before returning to his car. We hiked a few more kilometers up and found a campsite near the ridgeline. Tired from the hike and so much socializing in the past couple days, I fell asleep quickly after dinner.

We woke up to a chilly morning, packed up and walked along the ridge most of the day, sharing company with some condors floating lazily above us. Though the ridge-walking was mostly water-less, the route dropped down for a short time to a water source before climbing back up and continuing its march along the ridge. We spent the evening dropping steeply down the northern end of the Laguna and were able to find a lovely place to camp near a meadow speckled with horses and cows.

Fidgit checking the GPS above the Laguna

In the morning, I woke up to Fidgit having sneakily decorated the tent while I slept. It was my 32nd birthday, and she had found some decorations in town. I'm very lucky to have such a compassionate hiking partner, and usually wish that I could be so thoughtful. We hiked on, through a windy valley that led to a low saddle between some peaks, and we dropped down to an old access road. At the road, we decided to push to see if we could make it to a marked hot springs by evening. Music in my ears and road walking made the kilometers go by faster and we made it to the hot  springs around 8 p.m., just in time to be invited to have dinner with the caretakers, Yoanela and Miguel. They were so kind, and even took part in Fidgit's idea to sing 'Happy Birthday' to me. After we agreed to join them for breakfast the next morning, Fidgit and I went to sleep near 1 a.m. - far past my bedtime.

We made it to hot springs for Neon's 32nd
birthday!

After a lovely breakfast the next morning, we decided to stay a day, rest, and learn more from Yoanela and Miguel. They shared much information, including their family history of coming to these springs for generations. Their passion and knowledge for the area was evident and we discussed them often as we continued our hike northward along the cordillera.

We valley hopped a couple of low saddles and then began our climb to Volcan Chillán. Up a steep, well-used horse path we went for 5 kilometers to come over a crest to the view of the volcano with some horses staring at us in the foreground. We then crossed a high valley to some more natural hot springs! We unfortunately didn't get to spend as much time at these springs as the last ones, though we were able to enjoy them for a time.

As we crested the next saddle along Volcan Chillán, we heard something that sounded like a rock slide. Looking toward the noise, I watched a large plume of smoke rise from the mouth of the volcano. I had assumed that most volcanoes were dormant or aggressively active; as it turns out, some are minimally active. We watched the smoke travel across the sky and cover the sun above. A short while later, ash began raining down as we made our way down the valley. We sped up and made quick time getting down to the river at the bottom of the valley.

The hot springs caretakers with some
 of Manuel's wood work

After crossing the river and not seeing any more smoke being burped out of the volcano, we stopped to eat some lunch before heading up to one last pass before town. Over the pass, we came down to a valley and were able to follow a well-traveled animal path to a road which then led us into the community of Puente Ingles.

Staring horses at the pass near Volcan Chillan

We arrived in Puente Ingles on a Saturday which wasn't convenient for catching a bus into the nearest sizable town of San Fabian, but was convenient for hitch-hiking into town. Even then, it took a while for someone to pick us up, as most of the vehicles that passed were stuffed with people and things. We were finally given a ride by a local man out with his son for the day. He told us about many things on the ride, including the large dam that is being built along Rio Nubles that, once built, will flood the community of Puente Ingles. We arrived in San Fabian and found a hostel run by a kind woman named Angelica. She welcomed us in and helped us with more information about the town, including where the internet was(the town square) and where to find food (which markets had what) Thanks to the locals, we were able to make the most of our time in town.

Neon with Volcan Chillan having a
minor eruption in the background

An older Lava flow near Volcan Chillan

Our hitch-hiking spot/a bus stop

Angelica with her daughter and grandson

Christmas in Ralco, Trapa-Trapa to Antuco, and New Year's

Pre-shower feet in Ralco

We spent a short time in the tiny pueblo of Trapa-Trapa, then, realizing we wouldn't be able to get what we needed to get done on our town stop (internet and full resupply) hitch-hiked to Ralco, a larger town nearby. Our hitch turned out to be a nice guy named Felix, who had grown up in Trapa-Trapa, but now lived elsewhere. He and Fidgit talked about the history of the natives in the area, as well as the development of the road that he was driving along. It was a warm day, so I was just in the backseat trying to not get carsick- I succeeded! We made it to Ralco and were able to find a place to stay and some non-trail food.

Fidgit at the look-out above Trapa-Trapa

Though still a small town, Ralco had what we needed, so we rented a room at the hospedaje for a couple of days to celebrate Christmas, get in touch with loved ones across the globe, and get some work done. The owner of the hospedaje and her daughter were very kind and were even able to do our laundry, making it the second time we had washed our clothes this season (minus underwear and socks, of course; those were washed far more often). Christmas in the summer is still something I'm getting used to, though the downpour all day helped set the mood for staying in and drinking tea while watching Chilean TV.

Fidgit walking along in the valley

Road walking between countries towards
Volcan Antuco

The rain cleared up as we were leaving town and we were able to catch a 'micro' or bus back to Trapa-Trapa. It was my first experience being on a full bus down here. By full, I mean the seats were filled (some with women who had children on their laps) and everyone who piled in after that got to squish together in the aisle until everyone got on the bus. As the bus trundled up the one-lane dirt road, most of the people on the bus drank beer after beer, throwing the empty cans out the open windows. As the bus got closer to Trapa-Trapa, boxes of wine came out, and then vodka. Some of the more drunk locals began attempting to talk to me and I told them in Spanish that I don't speak much Spanish, though they kept trying. No one became aggressive, though. I was grateful that our stop came up quickly after that. Fidgit and I have a rule to not be around men drinking heavily for safety reasons, though it was unavoidable this time. I was glad to get back to the trail and camp outside of town that night.

Nearing the Chilean Frontera

The next morning, we were able to follow a well-worn horse path up out of the valley and down into a valley full of puestos that opened up and had a road at the far end which traveled between Argentina and Chile. We were in between countries again, traveling between the fronteras. We set up camp and walked 'back into' Chile at a border patrol station. Even though we had never actually left the country, because we passed the station, they had to check and stamp our passports again. It was confusing for both sides to try and explain the situation. We made it through after about 30 minutes and began our ascent to the pass west of Volcan Antuco. Up and up through an old lava field we went, loose rocks slipping out from under our shoes. The wind that picked up near the top was a welcome event, as the sun was getting hotter with each step. Fidgit also wasn't feeling well, though we were able to get over the pass and hang out in the shade of a giant boulder for lunch. As we traveled down the other side of Volcan Antuco, Fidgit began feeling worse, so we took our time picking our way through this fresher lava field and then down the multi-kilometer, steep downhill that took us to the road and our campsite for the night.

Fidgit going along the lava field

After some sleep and re-hydration, Fidgit felt a little better, and we were able to hitch into the town of Antuco to resupply, planning on coming back to the trail early he next day. As things don't always go as planned, Fidgit had another bout of illness in the night, and we decided to stay another day in town. The hostel owner basically forced Fidgit to go to the 'posta' or health clinic in town to get some meds; she felt much better after she did. We were also then invited by the hostel owner to come celebrate New Year's with him and his children and grandchildren that evening.

Nearing the pass!

We were getting ready to go across the backyard to visit for a short time that evening when the hostel owner's son-in-law came to retrieve us and we were escorted across to where the Asado was going on. Perfect timing, as the lamb was nearly done. We met the daughter and grandsons of the hostel owner and were immediately swept up in talking to them about our travels and the U.S. Dinner was ready shortly and we ate heartily before being invited to play ping-pong while waiting for midnight. The time flew by and suddenly we were all celebrating and wishing each other well in the new year. Strangers had yet again invited us into their homes and shared themselves kindly, I fell into a deep sleep a couple hours after the new year with a smile on my face.

Interesting rock colors on Volcan Antuco

Fidgit picking her way through the newer lava field- the
posts are how we found the 'trail'

Getting ready to share in a New Years' dinner.

Liucura to Trapa-Trapa

Looking ahead on the trail near Liucura

Our friendly horse neighbors for the evening

We walked out of Liucura and immediately climbed up and around the large hill along the outskirts of town. As we walked, there were a couple of people riding their horses towards us along the same path/old road. Fidgit and I arrived to them, and they asked us our plan for our route, as they were concerned. Fidgit got out the GPS and maps and told them the lake we were planning on getting to that evening. They said they had come from it, and it was far. They were able to give us some more detailed directions to get to the lake, warning us about tricky turns and pumas as well.  We walked on, making it within a couple kilometers of the lake we had mentioned before camping near a puesto. As we were preparing to get in our sleeping bags, a small herd of horses ran up and began eating in the meadow we had set up in. They would look at us curiously and run away a few meters if we made any sudden movements, but generally left us alone as we tucked in for the night. When we awoke, the horses were gone and the valley had filled with a light mist. We packed up and moved north along the route, going up and over a pass before lunch. Right after lunch, we had a truck drive up. The driver was very excited when we told him what we were doing. He and his two passengers got out of the vehicle, talked quickly in Spanish to Fidgit and took many photos. They were kind and friendly, giving us some food for our travels and asking many questions before departing. That evening, we walked up and over another pass and across a valley to prepare for the ascent of our largest pass yet. Looking at it from the valley floor, we were unsure as to how we would cross it.

Fidgit and looking out at the valley we'll be going down

Neon wringing out soaked socks from a wet
morning on-trail.

The first thing we did in the morning was walk up to the pass, loosely following the GPT route, and we were able to find a faint trail that led us up and over the 2140 meter pass with no troubles. Coming down, the other side was exposed and rocky, at times steep. I ran out of water, and thankfully we came down quickly to the valley floor where I was able to refill and take a break. The clouds had been slowly building through the day, and as we started looking for a place to camp, the rain began slowly, building as the minutes passed. We came to the mouth of the valley and crossed a river in the rain. Looking ahead on the GPS, we saw a puesto marked and decided to head to that. We came upon the puesto a couple kilometers later and were able to set up for the night inside - continuing to stay mostly dry and warm. I always appreciate those who leave their seasonal puestos unlocked for weary travelers.

Waking in the morning, the rain had stopped, so we packed up and headed on, enjoying the lack of dust along the trail. We made it up and over a small pass and continued to follow the valley to a small lake. As we pushed through some overgrowth, Fidgit thought she heard a cat-like noise, and we thrashed back into the open to go around so as to not disturb the cat/animal. We had been warned so much about them at this point that I think it was getting to us. When we rounded the other side of the brush, it turned out the animal was a horse tied up in the meadow. I sighed a big sigh of relief, and we walked on along a small lake and promptly into a bog on the other side, soaking our feet. As we kept walking along the valley floor, we crossed the river many times, so I didn't mind my feet being wet from the bog. Now I could rinse them in the river! Sock laundry, right? I was also appreciative that it was warm out so the wet wasn't as bothersome.

Going up to the 'hot springs'

Fidgit and the steaming, sulfuric-smelling hole near the
filled in 'hot spring' pool.

After following the valley floor most of the day, we came up and over another low pass to a valley that had multiple puestos and a refuge. We slept in the refuge to be near the next low pass we would go over. In the morning, we went over the low pass and onto another valley which we followed to the northern end where we tuned off to another route option that went up to an alleged hot springs. After a steep ascent and a lunch break, we made it to the 'hot spring,' which ended up being a pool filled with volcanic clay next to a few steaming holes in the ground that smelled of sulfur. Disappointed, we marched on to another high pass. As we crossed the pass, we saw a large plume of smoke coming off a near-by mountain. At first glance it looked like a forest fire, but upon closer inspection it was a volcano seemingly erupting at a constant rate. Since we weren't sure what the protocol for volcanic eruptions was, we took some photos and kept our eye on it as we began our descent.

As it turned out, the descent was the sketchiest thing I've done in some time. We couldn't immediately see where we were going, as there was a small hill between the pass and the descent. As we rounded the hill, we saw part of where we would descend. There was a steep landslide area, rock spires and intermittent loose boulders with scree beyond it. The spires had steep, exposed drop-offs on either side of them, making what we were looking at doing nearly impossible without ropes. "That's what we're to go down?" I said in my head, unbelieving.

We began to slowly pick our way down, continuing to make sure the route on our GPS was indeed going this way. It was. As we descended, Fidgit and I kept a few meters of space between ourselves, so if there was rock fall or one of us slipped, the other would be a safe distance away. I would go across the area first, and Fidgit followed after I was out of rock fall zone. Along the top of the descent, we navigated around and through the towering spires, unsure if the next step on the scree field would hold or slip out, causing us to careen down the scree field. Thankfully, in the middle of the descent there was a thicker coating of marble-sized scree, so we were able to walk along more assuredly, sinking ankle-deep into it each step. It then thinned out again around the base of another spire, with each step slipping away underfoot as quickly as I could take the next one. I nearly laid down and hugged the ground when we were back on it solidly. It took us four or five hours to pick our way down the three kilometers from the pass to the valley floor.  Deliriously tired, we set up camp and passed out.

Looking out from the descent of doom while ankle-deep in scree.

Fidgit, excited and grateful for Huaso bread

This is how Neon feels after a tiring week on trail

We awoke the next morning rested though weary, with new and different muscle soreness. We were so grateful to be following along a cow path that we covered a lot of ground that day, continuing to keep an eye on the GPS route to make sure we were on track. As we were getting closer to our next resupply point, we were also realizing that we may not have enough food to get there. We had already been cutting back and paying attention to our dwindling food, and we cut back even more to make sure we would make it into a resupply. We were setting up camp that night as a Huaso riding by on his horse stopped to talk with Fidgit for a bit. It was the first other person we had seen in three or four days and quite friendly, waving as he rode away. I went down to the nearby stream to get water and wash my socks, and while I was gone, he rode back and offered us a loaf of bread, which Fidgit accepted after making sure that he had enough food for himself. I returned from the stream, and we happily ate our fill, knowing that we would make it to our resupply with the help of that kind man's bread.

The next day, we did make it to the small shop to get enough food to make it up to Trapa-Trapa. The owners were kind and helpful, they even asked their father to give us directions, as he was a local guide. We left after a resupply and a cafecito, wishing them well on their budding business. I felt like I was waddling away- I hadn't been that full in days. We road-walked nearly the rest of the day, getting lost in some lava rock near the end of the day before going along the southern end of Laguna El Barco and finding a camp spot near the trail head we were to follow. Weary from both lack of food for the past few days and sun exposure, I slept well that night.

We awoke the next morning and climbed up to an exposed, aged lava field, crossing the open area quickly. I enjoyed the cool breeze as the clouds passed lazily above us, giving us some shade from time to time. A few days ago, we had seen a volcano erupting, and were able to ask the shop owner about it when we had resupplied. He had told us that it was indeed a nearby volcano erupting, but that it had been going on for about FOUR YEARS so no one paid much attention to it anymore. From our vantage point along the ridge, walking north, we were able to see the smoking volcano most of the day. Thankfully the smoke was blowing east and we were walking along west of it.

Lago El Barco

We tucked in that night near a herd of cattle and were enjoying our dinner when they all decided to move on right past our tent. Fidgit had spent a couple of seasons on a ranch in Montana, so she had more confidence in keeping them away from our tent, while I was trying to stifle my want to move away from the giant horned beasts. Neither animal nor human nor gear was harmed, and we walked down the trail into the small community of Trapa-Trapa the next morning.

The nearby smoking volcano

Fidgit walking along the open ridge line through lava rock with another peak peeking out in front of her.

The last hurdle before Trapa-Trapa- an unfinished bridge across the rio.

Curarrehue to Liucura

A peaceful morning leaving Curarrehue

It had rained during our time off near Pucon, but the skies were clear as we hiked out of Curarrehue and into the Chilean mountains. We walked up out of the town's valley along a dirt road that turned into an older, more-trail-like road. I was wondering about the change in conditions of the roads, and we figured out we had come back into another part of Villarica- Reserva (instead of Parque) Nacional Villarica. It was nice to have more shade again, as the sun bore down on us in the meadows. We hiked along a large lake to an area of designated campsites for a lunch break. That evening, we found ourselves back on a road, walking between parts of the Reserva. As dusk settled in, we found a small camp spot along the river and slept. 

Enjoying the beautiful view and clear skies

The next morning, we continued our road walk along the dirt road and found some friendly folks along the way. We attempted to greet each person we saw, and everyone greeted us kindly in return. Stopping for lunch in the shade of a bridge, we saw a few kids fishing along the river. We exchanged greetings in Spanish upon their arrival, and they called out excitedly the few English words they knew as they left. As we continued down the road that afternoon, the heat became oppressive. With no breeze to cool us, we stopped in the shade of the few trees along the way to our next camp. We were able to find a campsite near where we re-entered Reserva Villarica (for the 3rd time - those of you counting), and I rinsed the sweaty salt off my face in the stream, ate dinner and fell into a deep sleep.

A roofless puesto along the track

Fidgit enjoying the viewpoint

Waking up the next morning, I sat up and immediately laid down again, as I almost passed out from light-headedness. We decided to sleep a bit longer, and I felt much better, though still out of it by the time we packed up camp and moved on. I thought it was mild dehydration/heat exhaustion from the previous evening. I made sure to drink plenty of water as we walked along, making our way past a couple of large mountains and across many river crossings, down the valley that led to the CONAF station and trailhead for a hike up one of the volcanoes. Stopping at the trailhead for our evening break turned into talking with the CONAF employees about their work and the tourist season in the area - it seems as though this seasonal station usually opens in October, but this year hadn't opened until early December. They were unsure what that would mean for future seasons and funding. We walked on to our home for the night, discussing tourism in Chile and wondering what will happen in the future - will these parks and reserves continue to be funded, or are they the first to have their funding cut in times of money shortage? It is uncertain what'll happen until it happens.

Grateful for clouds along this roadwalk

Neon: professional river-crosser

Enjoying the heat of the stove in the downpour

As we set up camp that evening, clouds were moving in and we awoke in the the morning to rain falling heavily on the tent. We packed up in the downpour and walked along, getting more and more wet. The trail went up and became old road, and we slipped and slid in the mud up and up until we came to a saddle and found a puesto. At this point, we were soaked and cold even in our rain gear, so we decided to stop and build a fire for the day - the cost of pushing on through the rain was not worth it for us, and we had enough food to make it to the next town. Fidgit collected wood to dry while I started the fire, and we were able to dry out and warm up. We tucked in for the day and night under a metal roof that protected us from the deluge that continued until early morning. When we awoke in the puesto, the rain had stopped but everything was still dripping wet. We walked along an old road that turned into trail through a bamboo forest that turned back into a road and led us into the town of Icalma.

Fidgit walking along the muddy road after the downpour.

We resupplied in Icalma and stayed for a day to make sure we had tied up loose ends, as there was a long town-less stretch coming up after the small frontera town of Liucura. We took an alternate of the GPT out of town to avoid road walking on the main road, and instead walked along a lesser-used road that led to trail and another, even less-used road. Walking between Icalma and Liucura took about a day and a half, so we made it into Liucura mid-afternoon and went into the small shop to resupply. A couple of British boys were also resupplying - the 3rd and 4th GPT hikers we've met this year! They were friendly, and we talked trail and culture - they told us about the route to the north, and we were able to help them with trail information to the south and what we had seen of the lakes they would be pack rafting across. We left town heavy with food and rife with knowledge about part of the upcoming stretch.

Laguna Icalma

Pinones/Pine Nuts freshly pulled out of boiling water

Old and new bridges near Liucura

Neon, Nathan, Liam, and Fidgit in Liucura before parting ways