The Vagabond Hiker

Hiking, trekking, and climbing the world

A Smorgasbord of Chilean Walks

Following our five days in Rapa Nui, Maggie and I embarked on a south-to-north journey in Chile, from the Lakes region to Araucanía and then on to the Atacama Desert. Chile being such a long, thin country and limited to about two weeks, we flew rather than drove the 1500 miles between Pucón in Araucanía and San Pedro in the Atacama. The photos that follow highlight our hikes and walks, starting at the Lakes Region just north of Patagonia.


Shoreline of Lake Llanquihue, Puerto Rosales. Volcan Osorno can be seen in the background left. Our AirBnB cabaña in this small community was a great alternative to the touristy Puerto Varas six miles away.
With Maggie at Lago Llanquihue, Puerto Rosales. As the tide came in, the walk along the pebbly beach became somewhat problematic.
Lago Llanquihue and Volcan Calbuco from one of the many trails above the Volcan Osorno ski lifts. Volcan Calbuco last erupted in April 2015, three months after my first visit to the area.
Variegated lava and Volcan Osorno’s summit. The summit climb was not on our itinerary that day.

Driving about four hours north from Lago Llanquihue, one arrives at the outdoor capital of Chile, the town of Pucón on Lago Villarrica. We opted once again for an AirBnB cabaña outside of this bustling town. The temperatures skyrocketed during our three days in the area. With usual maximum daytime temperatures of 77F (25C) in the summer, the Lago Villarrica area is a hiker’s paradise. Instead, we faced afternoon temperatures of about 99F (39C). With electricity off throughout the region for more than a day, we were fortunate to have a backup diesel generator for our cabaña. One day we made an early start and did an amazing hike up through the forest to a series of lakes.

Forest view, Huerquehue National Park. If you visit one park in the Pucón area, Huerquehue should be it.
Maggie provides scale for one of many rather large trees in Huerquehue
Volcan Villarrica from Tres Lagos Mirador, Huerquehue. This hike had it all: amazing forests, spectacular view points, and five lakes.
An Araucaria (monkey-puzzle) tree in Huerquehue. The region of Araucania is named for this iconic and threatened tree.
Araucaria forest bordering Laguna los Patos, Huerquehue
A metallic green-blue lizard in Huerquehue. We saw many of these lizards, but none so bold or colorful as this guy.
Flowers along Lago el Toro, Huerquehue

Leaving the extreme heat of southern Chile (!) we flew to the Atacama desert, one of the driest places on earth. At the airport in the mining town of Calama we were told that the road to the picturesque town of San Pedro where we were staying was closed due to flooding. Fortunately, the road had just been reopened and the waters were not so high as to impede our journey. Not so fortunately, our lovely cabaña a few miles outside of San Pedro was solar powered. As there had been little sun in the prior couple of weeks, there was no electricity, which in itself was not such as big deal. More critically, though, there was no water since the pump required solar power. After one night the kind hosts relocated us to a hotel nearer town for the next four nights where (at least most of the time) we had both electricity and water.

Volcan Licancabur seen reflected in runoff water on the road south from San Pedro. This area is a part of the Salar de Atacama, the largest salt flat in Chile. Several miles south of here the road was closed due to washouts, so we were not able to get to the laguna with the flamingos.
Another view of Volcan Licancabur, this one from Tulor archeological site outside of San Pedro.
Rio San Pedro, almost always dry, had burst its banks a few days earlier. Sixty people in the area lost their homes from the flooding, the first since 2001.
The desert route and the Quitor archeological ruins north of San Pedro de Atacama were closed
Valle de las Muerte, San Pedro. This was a great, though short, loop hike. Fortunately we got there before they closed it later in the day because of lightning threat. The Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon) was also closed, so we missed one of the more amazing sights in the area.
Lightning storm looking toward Valle de la Luna, San Pedro. I took a dozen photos from this roadside view point, but only this one showed a lightning strike.

While my plan originally had been to spend another month at the solar-powered cabaña in the Atacama, the weather made me rethink my options, so I booked another flight for Santiago and headed to the coast north of Valparaiso and Vina del Mar, to the town of Concon, for a month of walking, swimming, and kayaking on the ocean.

Concon night vista from my balcony. Concon is along the Pacific coast north of the resort town of Viña del Mar.
Concon coastal view. I did a number of coastal walks in Concon and on the miles-long beach just out of town to the north.
A Concon house I saw on one of my walks. An absolutely amazing property.
A pond at the Jardin Botanico Nacional outside Viña del Mar. While not a great botanic garden, the miles of paths were very peaceful on a Monday morning.
A cormorant drying its wings at the Jardin Botanico Nacional
Cerro la Campaña summit block from the Sendero Andinista. Campaña National Park is located in the coast range about 25 miles east of Concon.
Vista towards the Pacific Ocean from the slopes of Cerro la Campaña. The hike to the summit was only 7 km, but gained about 1500 meters in elevation, 600 m of this in the final 2 km scramble to the summit.
The Vagabond Hiker on top of Cerro la Campaña (1880 mslm). The Pacific Ocean is in the background.

Currently I am back in England. I leave Monday for my next adventure: 11 days on the island of Madeira, Portugal, most of which will involve walking in the amazing landscape. Until then, enjoy the spring!

The Vagabond Hiker

Rapa Nui (aka Easter Island) Archeological walks

Easter Island, or Rapa Nui in the native language of the Polynesian people that first settled there, is one of the most remote inhabited islands in the world. (Tristan da Cunha in the southern Atlantic Ocean also lays claim to this title, depending on how one considers the year-round Antarctic base several hundred miles away). It is also not cheap to fly as LATAM airways is the only airline flying the nearly 2500 miles from Santiago (Rapa Nui is legally part of Chile) with between one and three flights per day depending on the season and day of the week. While providing the locals with much-needed income, the limited number of flights has the benefit of keeping the island from being over-run with tourists and their concomitant infrastructure that could easily ruin the whole experience.

Its compact size, interesting topography, and good road access to much of the island make Rapa Nui an ideal place to enjoy nature as well as the archeological remains from the Polynesians. Essential to planning your visit and appreciating the sites is A Companion To Easter Island (Guide To Rapa Nui) by James Grant Peterkin. We spent five night in a small AirBnB cabaña where we were able to rent a small 4×4. While we saw all the main sites, there were several more hikes to do had we more time – and had my gout not flared up!

Pastoral view from the Te Ara O Te Ao trail near its trailhead just west of the airport at Matarevi
Hanga Roa from the Te Ara O Te Ao trail. Hanga Roa is the only town on the island and where virtually all visitors stay. The runway is also visible in this photo.
Rano Kau crater and wetland. This is the only wetland on Rapa Nui and contains many endemic species.
Three islets off the southwest coast of Rapa Nui. The Tangata manu, or bird-man, was the winner of the competition to collect the first sooty tern egg of the season from Moto Nui (the largest islet shown here), swim back and climb the sea cliff to the village of Orongo.
Rapa Nui coastline near Ana Kai Tangata caves
Bird-man pictographs, Ana Kai Tangata.
Hanga Roa coastal view of the pebble beach and some restaurants and shops. Everything was expensive on the island, but the local seafood was excellent.
Petroglyphs at Papa Vaca (literally “stone canoe.”) Images at this site include fish hooks, tuna, canoes, turtles, and even one shark.
Rano Raraku quarry. If you visit one site on Easter, Rano Raraku with its over 400 Moai at various stages of production should be it. While you can walk the paths in less than an hour, plan on spending a morning here.
Moai in profile at Rano Raraku. Nearly all of the almost 900 known Moai were carved from tuff, compressed volcanic ash.
The kneeling Moai, Rano Raraku
A collection of Moai, Rano Raraku
Tongariki Moai and platform (ahu) from behind. This is the best example of the skill involved in constructing ahu for the Moai. Like all Moai, these had been toppled over during the civil wars on Rapa Nui and only recently restored.
The fifteen Moai at Tongariki. Note the top knot on the 2nd from the right Moai. Several others had similar red scoria (basaltic) head gear, but they have since been destroyed.
The “traveling” Moai at Tongariki. It was loaned to Japan for the 1970 World’s Fair and returned. In contrast, the British Museum, despite tearful entreaties from the Rapa Nui, has held the Hoa Hakananai’a for 150 years.
Rano Raraku quarry site seen from Tongariki.
Anakana platform (ahu) and Moai, many showing top knots. Anakana is one of only two white sand beaches on the island, popular with locals on the weekend.
Moai on its back at Akahanga. Very unusual since during the civil wars most Moai were toppled onto their faces to destroy their power.
Several top knots at Vaihu. Once thought to be hats, they more likely represent the hair style of the time. Only some of the later Moai were adorned with these massive basaltic sculptures.

And one final image to leave you with. . .

Tongariki and the rugged east coast of Rapa Nui from Rano Raraku

Right now I am relaxing on my balcony overlooking the Pacific Ocean just north of Viña del Mar in Chile, planning my travels through the summer and will shortly update my calendar accordingly. My next blog post, in a couple of weeks, will be a smorgasbord of different hikes and walks I did on mainland Chile this past month. In the mean time, enjoy the outdoors where ever you happen to be.

The Vagabond Hiker

Climbing Ojos del Salado, the Highest Volcano in the World

After my Peak Lenin frostbite issue (see my post from September 2017), until now I had hesitated in climbing another high peak. But curiosity as to the lingering effects on my fingers must have gotten the better of me. This past two weeks eight of us (five Brits, myself and another American, and a Swedish woman (the only woman) attempted to climb a series of ever-higher peaks culminating in the 6891 meter (22,608 ft) Ojos in Chile. Ojos, whose summit is on the Chile-Argentina border, is the second highest peak outside of the Himalaya and the highest volcano in the world. Unlike its slightly higher (about 200 ft) more southerly neighbor in Argentina, Aconcagua, climbing Ojos does not require stumping up about $1000 in permit fees. It also has an interesting scramble at its summit, which is generally protected if you are using guides, as we were. Also, since it is not THE HIGHEST mountain, but only the SECOND HIGHEST in both the western and southern hemispheres, only a fraction of the number of climbers attempt the summit. Finally, the road systems, mostly made for the mines in this corner of the Atacama desert, provide many options for nearby acclimatization hikes, eliminating the need to repeatedly go up and down the mountain before summit day.

The photos which follow give an idea of the experience. Just imagine you are in a meat locker with a high-powered fan blowing while climbing. Read on to see whether I reached the summit.

Vallecito acclimatization hike vista. Our first hike was a short leg-stretcher about 1500 ft above our 10,000 ft campsite in the Vallecito Valley
Laguna Santa Rosa at sunset. We spent 3 nights in a hut beside this lake while doing two acclimatization hikes.
Laguna Santa Rosa from our Hermanas Peak hike. This photo shows the mineral salts around the lake. Hermanas Peak is 4950 m (about 16,250 ft). A little blob in the landscape, it is higher than Mount Blanc. Forty-plus mile an hour winds on the ridges made the climb not particularly enjoyable.
A flamingo feeding in Laguna Santa Rosa at sunset. There were several dozen altogether, but they were very shy so my 6x optical zoom couldn’t really do them justice.
Summit view from Cerro Pastillitos (5090 m, 16,700 ft) with the Tres Cruces far in the background. This peak was a long scree climb, our first over 5000 meters. All eight clients attained the summit.
Lagunas Verdes in the morning. After Laguna Santa Rosa, we drove to this highly toxic lake at about 4200 meters for the next 2 nights of camping.
A dessicated cow at Lagunas Verdes. Perhaps it drank from the arsenic-laced water that precludes any life? The warm springs on the lake shore were a welcome relief to some of us, however.
Some of our group at a rest stop during ascent of Carrancas Blancas. It was our first 6000 meter peak.
The Vagabond Hiker pointing out Ojos from near the Carrancas Blancas summit
Our summit team on Carrancas Blancas. I am on the left here. Only four of the eight clients reached the 6000 m (19,700 ft) south summit. The true summit is more than a mile along the ridge and only 200 ft higher, so no one made the additional 4 hour trek.
The Atacama Basecamp. About 5220 meters (17,100 ft), we camped there four nights during our climb of Ojos.
Ojos from the road hike up to Tejos Refuge. At 5825 meters (19,100 ft) supposedly it is the highest refuge in the world. While it is sometime used as a high camp, the small container-like building only has 8 bunks so we later chose to drive up to it to commence the summit day climb.
Ice Penitentes on the hike up to the Tejos refuge. These formations are common high in the Andes, and are a product of very dry air, strong winds, and of course the cold.
Dawn view with my boot on the Ojos climb. We had started climbing at 2:45 AM and I took this photo at about 6:30 during a rest break. There was no snow, so ice axes and crampons were not required. With the cold, though, double mountaineering boots were mandatory. At this point sunrise was about 1/2 hour away, but on the west side of the mountain it would not reach us until the summit block.
I reached the summit of Ojos del Salado (6891 meters, 22,608 ft) at 9:15 AM. Note the burly mitts to keep from getting a repeat of my Peak Lenin frost bite. Argentina is behind me. Two other clients (out of eight) attained the summit.
A final view of Ojos from Murray refuge with mining junk in the fore ground. We completed the trip in only 11 days (10 nights), much faster than is typically done on Aconcagua.
A study in contrasts on our jeep descent through Atacama foothills. The streams are created by snow melt in the summer. Contrary to common perception, it does precipitate in the Atacama, though generally only at high elevation as snow.

For the next 3 days I will be in Santiago, then on to other parts of Chile for the next 7 weeks. I expect to do another 2-3 posts during that time, though admittedly nothing nearly as extreme as Ojos. Stay tuned and keep hiking!

The Vagabond Hiker

Categories

Subscribe for Updates