Other Stuff That C Is For

((This is kinda long, due to the emotional impact certain parts of the post had on me. Sorry))

Okay, first and foremost, I did not have Jabali in Bariloche. After checking everywhere and asking everyone, it seems they ate them all, and there were none left for me. Slightly disappointed, I left for Castro, in the Island of Chiloe. Chiloe is renowned for its old beautiful churches, and delicious seafood, and the unique ambiance. I got to Castro, right in the center of the island, and supposedly the one place that contains all that is so attractive in the island. Having said all this, I should add that all of it didn´t do much for me. Firstly, the restaurant that was recommended to me for seafood wasn´t very good, and the night that I was there they didn´t have the really interesting stuff, such as centolla (king crab). Secondly, getting around the island proved to be slightly problematic, and going to all that effort for seeing one Church at a time seemed a bit too much for me. So I just stayed in Castro for a day and a half, which gave me enough time to check out the old church, and the houses on stilts (palafitos) which the city is famous for.

The Castro church

Palafitos

From Castro I went to Cochamo which is often described as the Chilean Yosemite. In order to get there, I had to get to the godforsaken village of Cochamo, arrange transportation to the trailhead, and hike for 3-4 hours in the rain, in a muddy and slushy trail, crossing several sock drenching streams. When I got there it was too cloudy to really see anything. With nothing better to do, I got to know the local community: climbers, some Americans, some Chileans, all roughly ten thousand times better climbers than I´ll ever be. The main attraction there is the trad routes, but even the sports ones where way out of my league (had I had any equipment to speak of that is). The next day I spent trying, unsuccessfully, to dry myself and my stuff, and waiting for the clouds to clear. In the evening I was notified that tonight we celebrate the end of climbing season, as well as the birthday of the site owner´s lovable 5 year old (the unofficial mascot of the site). The celebrations included a massive sheep asado, as well as a hand puppet show in Spanish, and an improvised musical jam (which included, among other instruments, a dijrido). The kid got his own little climbing wall as a gift. It was pretty awesome (you´ll to take my word for it, as I didn´t have my camera on me).

As the sheep carcases were starting to get chopped, I noticed one of the climbers already had a piece in hand. I asked him how it was, and he gladly passed me the odd looking piece, suggesting I take a huge juicy bite. Only then did I remember noticing the dangling pieces of meat on each of the male sheep. The sly smile on the others´ faces made it clear that I had guessed right. Some of the assadors claimed this was one of the prime pieces. I tried it. It was... soft. The rest of the pieces that I had were more conventional, and delicious.

Asado, an illustration (I´ll spare you the illustration of the part I tried)

The next day, the rain finally abated, I decided to hike up what was said to be the prettiest hike in Cochamo, Arco Iris. Climbing up the muddy steep trail was fun, since it involved several sections of pulling myself over water slick rock faces, using fixed rope lines, over a rather threatening abyss. Fun. I finally got to the top to discover a couple of peaks looming. I assumed, as I saw some rock cairns, that I was supposed to go up to one of them. Therefore, I wasn´t too worried when the cairns disappeared. I just figured I´ll catch the trail again when I´´ll reach the top. After finding my path, which consisted of several ¨shortcuts¨, which to the untrained eye would seem idiotically risky, and dangerously similar to climbing a rock face with no form of security equipment, I made it to the top of the first peak. I saw an alpine lake, Mt. Tronador, and several other peaks. I didn´t see cairns. Somehow, the logical thing seemed to be to climb the other peak. I did that, and again, among the great views, I couldn´t count any cairn. It was getting a bit late, and the thought of getting stranded on a rock shelf overnight didn´t seem that appealing. I tried to find my way down as fast as i could, Which turned out to be pretty slow, since I couldn´t remember the ¨shortcuts¨. I finally made it down to where I last saw the cairns, somehow in one piece. It was really late now, and while it was better to spend the night in the woods than on the rock, I wasn´t too keen on the idea. I half ran, half slid (which means fell on my ass 65 times) down, hoping I can clear the ropes before it gets dark. I finished half rappelling the last section just as sunlight completely disappeared. Now it was just a matter of keeping to the path, using my trusted old head torch. With a lot of luck, I managed somehow to keep to the path (I thing I´m better at it in the dark for some reason), and made it back to the campground. When I arrived I shared my story with the others, who sagely noted that going alone was dangerous. I agreed. They also said that they were there today as well (probably as I was attempting to scale the peaks), saw the peaks and decided it was too far to be part of the route. Now I felt slightly more stupid. To perk me up, they offered some of the huge pot of delicious lentil stew the made. I had four bowls.

Clouds in Cochamo

My ¨path¨

View from the top

My visit to Cochamo ended with a sunny hike back to the village, from where I would try to make my way to Pucon. As always, the other pics can be found here.