Lago Puelo to Bariloche

Leaving Lago Puelo (lake in the background)

We left the village of Lago Puelo slowly, meandering down the road out of town eating more blackberries (of course) until we found the trail markers of the Huella Andina again. The mornings had been getting chillier, and we heard talk of impending rain. The days were getting noticeably shorter too. Our weather window for the season was drawing to a close, and we were trying to edge out as much kilometerage as we could before it completely shut us down.

Walking along the Huella

The skies stayed clear for us as we walked north, skirting west of the larger town of El Bolson. We continued along the Huella, which was basically just markings along lesser-used side roads along the edge of the valley. As we walked along, we also came upon apple trees and more blackberry shrubs, so even though our packs were full from town, we were filling ourselves with foraged goods instead. No complaints here, as fresh fruit is hard to come by in Patagonia.We settle in for the night, tucked away behind a fence and with a line of trees protecting us from the dirt road that we had been walking all day with a friendly cat as a neighbor.

The (empty) car we came across on our roadwalk

The next morning it was a bit chilly, but refreshingly so, not in a freezing-my-fingers-off way. We followed the road-trail to the actual trail, even coming across a vehicle turned on its side, appropriate for the date being April 10th - my 4-year life-a-versary. We continued along the trail and  went along an aqueduct for a bit. I felt like I was back on the PCT, minus the desert part. Fidgit and I then went up and down and up until we found the path down to Rio Foyel. We found a house at the bottom of the hill and began speaking with the owner who, even though he already had 7 people in his one-room home, invited us in to share mate and join the party. The other people, all family members, had come out to help slaughter a cow to sell to another local. The carcass was hanging as the dogs were outside pulling scraps off of the hide lying on the ground. The family members slowly trickled out, and after speaking with Abraham (the proprietor of the estancia), he asked us to sign his guestbook he was given by the creators of the Huella Andina. We obliged, and he told us how he's planning on building a small outbuilding for hikers to stay when they come through on the trail and invited us to stay for the night. With the nights becoming chillier by the day, we readily agreed and then chatted away before tucking in for the night.

Abraham feeding his birds

Abraham's estancia

In the morning, we were even happier to have slept inside as we looked out the window to see a light frost covering everything in sight. We slowed our morning a bit, waiting for the sun to hit the valley so our feet wouldn't freeze too much crossing the river. Abraham offered to saddle his horse, so we could take it across. We turned him down as he had already done so much for us in the past 12 hours. We said a long goodbye and walked down to the shallow river, waded across and went straight back up the other side of the valley, continuing to follow trail markers (yay!). While along this section of trail, we saw many people out working in their yards or corralling their horses; all were friendly and a bit curious when they saw us approaching. It was obvious the Huella is a new addition to their land, and we were so grateful that they have allowed it to cross all of this private land, or we would've been walking something with more car traffic and dust. We made it to the tiny town of Rio Villegas and were able to do a small resupply we had planned before the market (aka a tiny shop full of food items attached to someone's house) closed for the evening.

We're still on the Huella Andina

At the ranger station- their grill

Leaving Rio Villegas, we entered into another national park- Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi. This park felt less deserted; it seemed as though there were others out there taking advantage of the last nice weather of the season to get out. We even stopped into a ranger station near Bahia Steffen to get a permit before passing up and across a trail that was well-traveled by horses, not so much by people. The trail was easy to find, and we covered the kilometers quickly. We even found a small meadow near water to camp that evening. We could tell colder weather was moving in and wanted to make it to Bariloche before we were completely frozen, though I'm sure that was more of a concern for me, as Fidgit quite enjoys winter. We woke up to a cloudy sky, which turned into a light drizzle mid-morning. Coming out to another dirt road, we decided to continue following the Huella instead of road-walking to town. The day was mostly road-walking as it was, but it's nicer to road-walk if you know it ends at a trail, in my opinion. After about 30km, we called it a day and crawled into the tent near the trail head.

Setting up camp

Waking up to cloudy skies and drizzle didn't do much to dampen our spirits, as we knew we were only two days from town and acquaintances who would soon become friends. We also had something to look forward to that night- we were told there would be a refugio near Laguna Jakob, which we would definitely make it to that night (barring any unforeseen accidents, of course). The drizzle perpetuated, and as the day wore on, we followed the trail up a valley that was beautiful despite the weather. As we continued up, the tree cover lessened, so I had to stop and grab out my rain pants, though it was more for insulation, as my pants were already soaked through. We went higher to the pass, and low trees gave way to rocks. We scrambled higher, waterfall noises all around us.

Fidgit keeping her feet dry

Fidgit crossing a sketchy suspension bridge

Going up to the pass, fall has arrived

As we came over the pass, we looked out onto an expanse of rock, with a barely visible lake in the distance. Laguna Jakob! The rock was a bit slippery from the continued rain, so we walked mindfully across the open expanse down towards treeline and the refugio. As we neared the laguna, we talked about how the refugio would likely be a 3-sided  building with an old gaucho tending a small fire, welcoming us in with a wave and a smile. Fidgit and I walked into a small forest, and then out of the forest to a clearing with a large two story building in it. We were pleasantly surprised to be greeted at the door by a young care taker who also seemed surprised to see us, and gave us a run-down of the short list of rules as we peeled our soaked rain jackets off and grabbed some food from our packs. He was even kind enough to start a fire in the second wood stove in the communal dining area so we had a place to dry our things. We dried out and ate, socialized, and I fell into a restful sleep in the bunk room that night.

Refugio Jakob in the morning

Laguna Jakob and snow-capped peaks

Waking up early the next morning, I crept into the common room and wrote and talked with other guests for a bit before Fidgit meandered in. I immediately said, "look out the window, I think you're gonna be excited." She took a deep breath, and looked out the window- and let out a woop! The peaks surrounding us had been dusted in snow overnight, and she had been talking about missing snow so much. Even though I don't like being cold or wet, Fidgit's joy was contagious, and I was glad to be sharing in the moment. Also, being dry and warm in a refugio helped. We ate breakfast and packed to go as other guests were discussing whether to stay or move on to the next refugio. Apparently there was a common loop many tourists hiked along the mountains outside of Bariloche that contained multiple refugios.

Heading down the valley to town

We snapped some photos and headed down, down, down the valley, which opened up to a rich forest. The morning cleared, and we were able to enjoy views of the valley as we walked and talked. As we neared the road, the clouds rolled in again, so I was grateful to be nearing town. Unfortunately, town was not as close as I had thought. The road walk was alright, but the rain continued to get heavier, and I was struggling. As we came out on the main road to Bariloche, Fidgit suggested we take a break and I refused, saying "if I stop now, I probably will get too cold to start again." Thankfully, Fidgit is more cold weather durable, and we were quickly able to find a small convenience store in which to warm up. The cashier was kind enough to allow us to use her internet to contact our friend Sherry, who Fidgit had been in contact with, to come find us. As we waited, we had some hot coffee and a small snack, and I was able to get my body temperature back up. Sherry showed up, and we were whisked off to a lovely home and warm showers.

Cholila to Lago Puelo

Dario and Laura's hostel in Cholila

Dario and his wife Laura were also in the midst of ending their season at the hostel and

Lunch break at a creek crossing

preparing for the coming winter- Laura was a teacher at a local school and Dario guided ski trips in the winter. He had many stories to tell about different trips he'd led around the are, which is how we found out we could go a different way than walking the road up to where the Huella Andina began again- the official route had ended (again) at the north side of Parque Alerces. We were so excited, and it was a proposed area for a future section of the Huella to go through.

We got surprisingly specific directions about campsites and trails from Dario (he even pointed to them on our maps and was within 1.5km of each!) and headed off after a day of rest. I still wasn't feeling my best, and Fidgit thankfully agreed to stay another night. We walked a few kilometers back down the road the way we came, turned right and followed that road to and around Lago Cholila to begin our journey up the valley Dario had pointed out on our GPS toward Tres Picos (3 peaks).

We found a waterfall AND a way around it.

Morning frost is becoming the norm.

The next morning, we were able to follow the trail he had told us about up to where the valley opened up, then we were to follow along the stream to the end of the valley below Tres Picos, and there would be a campsite with a couple of blue barrels (extra food stash for local climbers who frequent the area). The valley was an interesting adventure. As we tried to stay out of the stream and follow along it, we ended up in and out of some massive overgrowth and leftovers of a multi-year-old fire. Towards the middle of the day, we were able to rock hop and follow along small animal tracks, but at the end of the day, I gave up and just slogged through the water to get to camp faster. It was cold, and the fall chill in the air didn't help much. Thankfully, we were able to have a fire in the fire ring we found once we found the camp- so cozy. And I got to thaw out my frozen feet and dry my shoes before bed!

One of the Tres Picos from the pass

Rock hopping down the valley

The next morning was cold. We were camped near the end of the valley below a pass, and the sun would not be on us until we walked closer to the pass. We packed up quickly, but our fingers froze anyway. With maps and GPS in gloved hands, we wanted to make sure we were going over the correct pass. Fidgit and I ascended the wide pass and were happy to be warmed by the morning sun. We descended the other side, following another creek, or arroyo, along a steep drainage that leveled out as we went down. I was able to keep my feet dry until 4pm. I would like to thank the rocks I hopped and my stubbornness (I hate wet feet). This valley was just as beautiful as the one we had come up, and we stumbled upon 'Camp Mysterioso,' as Dario had called it, right at quitting time. Making another fire in the fire ring at camp, we were able to dry out our shoes and socks once again. Dry feet always make me happy.

Also, my shirt tore on this stretch.

So happy for warmth!

BLACKBERRIES!

In the morning, we packed up and followed a trail we found along the side of the valley. We began to get concerned, because we kept going up and up, but then it leveled out and we passed a refugio and then a few kilometers later came out to a viewpoint with a sign at it- we had arrived in another National Park. Parque Nacional Lago Puelo had multiple signs that helped us get to the actual lake. From there we were able to follow a well-marked people/horse/cow path to the settlement of Disemboque, where we immediately were distracted from walking by massive blackberry bushes. Since there aren't bears or squirrels, the bushes were huge and rife with uneaten berries, so we stuffed our mouths before waddling off to find camp for the night along Rio Epuyen. We talked to a rancher who said there'd been a forest fire, and we were warned finding the Huella Andina into Lago Puelo (the town) may be difficult. My belly full of berries, I slept well that night.

Looking out at Lago Puelo

Some of the easier bushwhacking

Rising early the next morning, we packed up camp and walked through a light fog towards where we believed the continuation of the Huella Andina began. Thankfully, our GPS route was close to correct, as we shortly found trail markers for the Huella. Fidgit and I followed the markers, which led us steeply up out of both the valley and the fog. As the morning continued, we were generally able to find the trail markers and follow them- many of them were painted on rocks along the way, which helped in a newly burnt forest, as many of the trees were charred black and/or had fallen over. We lost the markings a couple of times, but quickly found them again.  At the top of the outcropping, we had been going up, we stopped and had some lunch, looking towards the town of Lago Puelo across Lago Puelo and figuring out what our route for the afternoon would be. The rancher was correct; the wild fire damage was worse on this side. After lunch, we continued following the trail markers, though they became harder and harder to find. Many of them we had to look back after passing the marked tree to see. Eventually, we lost the markers and gave up attempting to find them and just bushwhacked through the burnt forest. There were times that afternoon we were sliding down a steep hillside knee deep in ash from the fire, and we both ended up covered in black from pushing through burnt trees and brush. The going was slow, but we eventually made it out of the burnt forest at a beach, both worn out and definitely out of water. Grateful to be at the beach, we filled up on water and immediately drank a bunch as well. The sun was just setting as two Park Rangers walked up to us and informed us the Parque was closed and we would have to leave. Worn out from our day, Fidgit and I were still respectful and were able to explain our situation to them. The Rangers relented and told us of a place we could stealth camp a couple kilometers down the beach. They also informed us that the wildfire area we had just walked through had just happened last year (2015) and it was closed to hikers. Thankful and exhausted, we pushed to the area they specified and collapsed for a couple minutes before setting up camp and eating dinner. We then collapsed into the tent carefully, as to not get too much ash from the wild fire and sand from the beach in the tent.

Made it to the beach! Notice the ash.

I was sore the next morning from using upper body muscles I hadn't used in a while, and I'm sure Fidgit had some sore muscles as well as we walked into town. It was a bit further down the road than expected, but a lovely respite nonetheless. Dario had told us of a hostel there run by Club Andino Lago Puelo, the local chapter of the Alpine Club. It took us a while to find it, but eventually we did- thankfully we had stopped for a snack on the way into town. A bonus-we were the only people staying there! It seemed as though once the tourist season ended, everyone cleared out, and all of the parks shut down within a week, so quickly. There was a caretaker, a lovely young man who was studying music at the college who was able to stay for free for checking hostel guests in and collecting their money. We were able to get town chores done and relax for a bit. The nights were definitely getting chillier, so it was a nice respite to be indoors for a bit before we made our final push to Bariloche.

Bushwhacking sometimes drives us mad.

The Club's mascot/guard dog, Frida.

Club Andino Lago Puelo

Futaleufu to Cholila through Parque Alerces

Learning about semillas in Futa

Learning how to make Empanadas(!)

Futaleufu is both a river and a town, the river being more famous I assume, by the number of signs I see mentioning rafting and guided tours as we walk into the town. It is a beautiful river, though the town also has a beauty to it, as a small Chilean border town with their busy (rafting/tourist) season dwindling to an end. It began drizzling as we walked into town, and thankfully we had a contact in town, so after stopping by the small tourist information center for directions and a coffee shop to warm up and grab a snack, we wandered over to Alejandra's. After a brief introduction and talk, she so kindly offered us space in her house to stay. We were again taken aback by the kindness and generosity gifted to us from another semi-stranger.

Me, Alejandra, and Fidgit in the yard

We moved into our space, which consisted of putting our packs down and taking showers. Over the next few days we were able to find that balance of relaxing, getting town chores done, and being able to spend time with our host family. Alejandra and her husband were so helpful with information and allowing us some space to decompress. The town of 'Futa' is a small town, so there were some things we weren't able to find, though it wasn't a big deal.

We left Futa after a few days' rest (unplanned, but much needed) and headed down the road to the Chile/Argentina border. Our plan was to cross and hike along Argentine side on the Huella Andina (pronounced way-sha ahn-dee-nah in Argentine spanish), as it seemed more available to us than we had originally thought. a few kilometers out of town, the border crossing was the easiest yet, both countries just waved us through after stamping our passports and we walked on.

The road was dusty, and we were happy to turn off of it onto the Huella Andina and begin our (mostly) off-road travels. The trail was well-marked and even had some infrastructure- we were so grateful for stream bridges and bog avoidance logs! We went to sleep that night quite happy in our little tent in the woods along the Huella. 

Trail marker! And a turnstile!

Fidgit and No Mio at our lunch break

The next day, we continued following the trail and came to the end of that section at the tiny 'villa' of Aldea Escolar, where we were hoping to find some supplemental lunch food. It was not to be, instead we acquired a border collie looking dog. She was super friendly and followed us the rest of the day, even when we tried to get rid of her. So of course we allowed her to continue with us and even named her No Mio. Fidgit was concerned because she had read of this happening to another group, and their dog-follower was chased and (likely) killed by a puma. Spoiler- this didn't happen to No Mio.

Potential trail marker along the investigatory route.

We did have quite the adventure getting into my favoritely-named town though- Futalaufquen. As mentioned above, there is a break in the continuity of the Huella Andina, so we were following Jan's 'Investigatory Route' of the Greater Patagonia Trail, and it was indeed quite investigatory. We bushwhacked through 10-15ft tall bamboo shoots all day, trying not to whack whoever was in the back while also wearing our upper bodies out shoving them (and our backpacks) through what seemed like billions of bamboo shoots trying to hold us back. If you've seen 'Alice in Wonderland,' it reminded me of the card guards multiplying and crossing their weapons in front of Alice.

Getting stuck on the bamboo...

After forcing our way through that hell for what seemed like all day, we were exhausted and hungry. We came to a lovely field and promptly set up camp, knowing we would get into Futalaufquen the next day, and it would be by following old road beds. We both fell into a deep sleep. I'm sure No Mio also slept well, even though she was covered in sharp burs from all the bushwhacking.

No Mio and I walking into Futalaufquen

I woke up with a pounding headache, intestinal distress, and nausea. Fidgit and No Mio seemed fine, but- kindly- were patient with me and walked with me the few kilometers into Futalaufquen, where I promptly sat under a tree near the grocery store and fell asleep to remove myself from the pain I was feeling. While I was sleeping, Fidgit ran our small amount of errands, one of which was to get No Mio to a place that was not following us. If we could've kept  her, we likely would have; she was a beloved part of our trek for that short time. I felt much better after my nap, though not fully recovered, so we decided to walk a short way into Parque Nacional Alerces to a nearby campsite where I could continue recovering. There was a lovely view of Lago Alerces, and we ate dinner and went to bed.

Looking out on Lago Alerces

The next morning, we walked along the side of the lake along the road. The road was dusty, and there was a bike race that day(we saw signs), so we decided to go along the beach area instead. It was rocky, but way nicer than being covered in a fine dust every time a car went past. We walked along for a few kilometers and then the beach cliffed out on us, so we had to go up a bit higher. Fidgit decided to continue trying to follow along the water. I still wasn't feeling 100%, so I decided to try and bushwhack back to the road and walk it to meet up with her at the next camping area- bad choice on my part. I was basically trying to 'swim' through head-height vines covered in spines- imagine a blackberry bush without the positives of having a food item on them. At one point, I was looking up a steep area to the road, with one foot on a tree branch and the rest of me being held up by the spiny vines, whimpering to myself that no one would find me if I died.....so, anyway, I made it to the road about 10 minutes after that, feeling like an idiot and covered in scratches. I reunited with Fidgit, and she allowed me to blubber for a bit to her before we headed onward and met up again with the Huella Andina.

Fall is coming!

Fidgit looking out on Lago Verde

I was still feeling queasy and weak, so after a full day of tough (my own fault) walking, I was ready for camp, and a beautiful lakeside camp it was! I slept soundly, even with some Easter festivities going on in another corner of the camp area. I woke up the next day rested, and I felt I started out strong, but I was still having trouble with recovering from whatever ailment was going on. We didn't have much wiggle room in our food supply, so we were discussed our options. Then we found a sign for a camping area with a small camp shop serving food and followed the side road leading to it. We had nearly given up hope on finding it along the road when we reached the end of the road and the campsite. We had some tea and bread and decided to set up camp. We had perfect timing, as the cook mentioned it was their last week before the camp store shut down for the season- another reminder that we didn't have much time left before winter set in.

Even though it was their last day of the season, everyone at the campground was friendly and helpful, even offering directions and information about the next town we would get to. And there were showers! Shower-laundry done and self-showered, I slept well that night.

Bushwhacking wounds. And peanut butter!

We made it to the end of the Parque the next day, and they weren't kidding about it being the end of the season- that place was packed and locked up! We camped there and headed into the town of La Bolsa the next day, which was a wet, dreary one. We got some resupply food and pressed on, determined to get some more kilometers in now that my lingering ailment had improved. Then it started raining. And we were nearing Cholila . . . so we decided to stop in and find a place to stay for the night. We stopped into the tourist information center, which is sometimes useful, and were directed towards a hostel at the edge of town. Walking up their driveway, we were greeted by a friendly dog, and then the owner, Dario. We asked him if he had space for the night, and they did, perfect! We ended up getting way more than just a room- we got directions on our next leg of the journey- it turns out Dario not only runs a hostel with his wife, Laura, but is also a local guide and was able to give us directions along the mountains we had ruled out, because we didn't think it would be possible. Turns out it is possible, and, though not commonly thru-hiked, a few had done it before us. Fidgit and I went to bed that night with full bellies (we showed up on a celebratory day and they had cooked up a feast of sorts) and smiles on our faces for not having to road walk.

Walking along the road into Cholila