Crossing Tierra del Fuego

Dani spotting Fidget on a pass descent

For months, Fidget and I had planned on going to Ushuaia, finding our way back across the Argentina/Chile border, and walking northward on the Chilean side of South America. Upon arrival to Ushuaia, however, we were nearly immediately told that crossing the border would be much harder/impossible.  As learned travelers, we began coming up with alternative options of hiking across the island of Tierra Del Fuego.  We ended up meeting multiple helpful people who gave us different ideas.  Through connections, Fidget and I met a man named Dani who had traversed the island and he shared his route with us. This may not seem like a big deal to US citizens, but down here they have an unwritten edict that if you give another person information about a route, then you consider yourself responsible for their safety along that route.  He was basically trusting us to not be stupid. Thanks, Dani!

After planning for so long, we were definitely antsy to begin our walk. We headed out eagerly, with Dani joining us for the first day across the mountains.  We made it about 20km, across 3 passes and past many beautiful vistas.  The next day was similar, with only 1 pass and an afternoon of slogging through and around a beaver dam-filled valley. We arrived at Lago Fagnano on day three to get our resupply that had been sent with another new friend, Hernan, to his company's (Canal Fun) refugio along the lake, and ended up running into him and enjoyed an afternoon of catching up.

Looking out at Lago Fangano

Day 4, we decided to try and figure out a way across the lake, because going around it seemed to be a pain in the butt, adding four days onto our trip.  We walked over to a small fishing camp to see if we could find a ride across, and the camp host, Jesus, said it would be nearly impossible, but invited us in for  mate and we ended up staying the rest of the day meeting his wife and learning about these giving and caring people.  The next morning we were sitting by the dock and Jesus walks up grinning, saying he got us a ride to the other side of the lake with one of the fishermen!  We load into the small boat with three men and one of their sons, and are dropped off across the lake to continue following our (Dani's) set route.

Fidget checking out an abandoned house.

The wind dies down and there is no trail other than wild llamas, aka Guanaco, so we wander along with our GPS and maps out. Dani's route is much easier at times than we anticipate, though there are many downed trees and open marshy meadows along the way. Taking all the wilderness in is a pleasure, giving me moments of sheer joy knowing at least one fellow adventurer wanted to share this with us.

A lake among the forest of downed trees

The bridge is out! Road walking into Rio Grande

We make it to an Estancia, or giant ranch, and find a dirt road that will take us most of the way into Rio Grande, where we'll be able to resupply.  Food is running low so we push our pace up, doing our first (and thus far, only) 42km day.  The hard packed dusty dirt roads are tough on our feet, mine are sore and sensitive, Fidget's are being torn up by her shoes being so stiff. The wind also picks up again as we got into more open lands again. We walked into Rio Grande and immediately got a pizza and Fanta so we could think clearly while figuring out what's next.  Another connection, Marcello, opened up his apartment to us and we readily agreed. He was kind and helpful host, driving us around to run errands and answering our questions.

After a much needed rest day, we headed forward again, along the road to San Sebastian. Marcello called some friends, so we were welcome at 3 of the Estancias north of Rio Grande. This road walk was long and boring, but we received encouragement in the form of honks of passers by as well as seeing some cyclists. When we reached the border crossing, the wind was raging across the steppe.  We were able to cross into Chile successfully though, and Dani (who we now call Coach, because of his unending educating and encouragement) and his wife Elena picked us up and took us to Punta Arenas.  We're finally on the mainland!

I found this rock in my pocket after carrying it for half a day- woops!

Week 1- Ushuaia to Rio Grande- The People

Flying into Santiago and again into Ushuaia, I knew no one and Fidget knew 2 people from South America- one of her Colorado friends grew up in Argentina and another in Venezuela. I've now had the wonderful opportunity through those two to be graciously hosted and helped by two of their friends and their friends and friends of friends. It truly is an amazing and wonderful part of a culture to continue practicing hospitality based on a person's word. I have witnessed and experienced people in the U.S. helping others, though not to the extent I've witnessed here.

As I am learning more and more down here, it's not what you know, but who you know. Our trip thus far has been an amalgamation of people we meet through other people. Fafay connected us to Cris, who let us stay at his apartment in Santiago. Gaston connected us to Cocó, who let us stay with her in Ushuaia and connected us to Hernan, who helped us with a food drop and connected us to Dani. Dani helped us with a route through Tierra del Fuego, and connected us to Marcelo, who we stayed with in Rio Grande.

Neon, Fidget, and Dani (whom we've renamed 'Coach')

There are many others that Fidgit has reached out to along the way that have been able to help us with questions about the area and other random things. We're also continuing to be given contacts. We've also met and befriended camp hosts and fishermen who helped us cross Lago Fagnano and other random people who have again and again gone out of their way to assist us.

In the United States,  there are wonderful people who also give and give, though from my experience they exist in certain pockets of the country. It's as if the trust in people isn't there and has to be built. Here, it seems to be a prevalent part of the culture, as if trust is there if vouched for by a friend and as long as you don't break it, you're in the clear, and people are happy to help.

A friend of a friend's Estancia we stayed at

It's an interesting dichotomy for me to think about how these seemingly similar cultures have veered just enough away from each other for it to be so noticeably different a hundred or so years later. I also always say I thru-hike to restore my faith in humanity, and this hike (thus far) seems to be no different.

Perhaps people are more welcoming and helpful because Fidgit speaks Spanish so well, perhaps it's because they see two young girls traveling, perhaps it's because we are kindred spirits. Whatever the reason, I know we appreciate it and will not be taking it for granted or forgetting those who have helped us any time soon.

Boat ride across Estrecho Magellenes

Goodbye, Hello, Goodbye.

Everyone has a different view on what goodbye means.  To some, it signifies a finite end, to others it's a temporary inconvenience.  Some people hate saying goodbye, others see it as a step along the process of life.  It can even mean something different at different times in life.

For me, saying goodbye to people can be tough.  I'm not the most outgoing person, and most of the close friends I've made over the years are currently scattered as far as the winds of life have blown them. I tend to brush goodbyes off as another step in the leaving process to avoid showing how I truly feel, which is gratitude for each person being in my life, sadness to be missing them for a period of time, and excitement/trepidation for the next step.

As I leave the U.S. for at least the next 7 months to begin the trip of a lifetime- exploring South America by foot- I try and take time to look back and be grateful for those who  I get to say goodbye to, who have been supportive of me throughout the last few years, as well as some who have been in my life longer. I'm a fortunate human in having friends who want to play outside with me, share their inner selves and stories, help me to grow as a person, or just sit and listen while I cry about unfair things in the world. I try to remember not everyone has that support, and my hope is that I can be as helpful to others as my friends have been to me.

In modern society, it seems as though we often push our emotions off until it's 'convenient' or 'better timing'.  I've seen it happen with others and (obviously) do it myself. I'm working on this, and believe I'm becoming better for the work put in. A huge thank you goes to everyone out there pushing/pulling/supporting/encouraging me to be a better person, it's you who's helped me become me!

I can't blame my loved ones for wanting the most out of life, even if its not as physically near to me as I'd like. I'm about to head as far away as I can to start my next adventure.  Some may think what I'm about to undertake is hard-and it will be in a way-but I feel the hardest part is being open and vulnerable. The soft ache in my heart will remind me of all my loves scattered across the globe.