GPT07 | Laguna Dial
Termas El Medano
11 January 2024
It’s 7am and everybody is still sleeping at the campground at Termas El Medano but I would like to take the opportunity to start walking some kilometers before the heat of the day kicks in. I even spot a couple of clouds. Will they bring rain or just provide some welcoming shade?
Getting a ride is surprisingly easy. Ricardo is my driver, and one of the first questions, as always, is whether I am hiking alone. He mentions that there are a lot of bad people (from other countries), but we agree that they are most likely not hanging out in the mountains. “Cuidense” (take care of yourself), he says as I get off.
I take a long lunch break at 2pm beneath a giant rock. Though it’s quite warm all around, a cold wind blows through my shady spot, so I put on my puffy jacket after a while. I have a bit of a headache and am unsure whether I should stay or move on. The afternoon awaits with a steep climb, but to my surprise, once I’m up, I reach a vast green plateau. Several waterfalls crash down into the valley, and I’m surrounded by peaks still covered with remnants of snow.
It’s quiet and serene. I wonder how many people have walked this path before. Strangely, being alone up here makes me feel quite safe. Suddenly, I spot a very basic shed. It looks deserted, but there’s a horse and a couple of dogs. Damn!
I try to pass by at a distance, but as I come closer, the dogs start barking. Of course! An older man emerges from the shed, his tan and many wrinkles showing that he spends a lot of time outside. I decide to greet him, and soon another younger arriero (Chilean cowboy) sticks his head out of their simple shelter.
Though I am fluent in Spanish, understanding them is a bit of a challenge. They inquire about where I am heading and warn me that the ground in that direction is very humid. When I mention that I plan to walk for another hour until 8pm, I realize they don’t have a watch to know what time it is. Not needed up here!
Hard to find a flat, wind-protected spot between all the stones ;)
Asado & Horses
13 January 2024 | 16°C
It will be mostly downhill today, however, I don’t get far in the morning. After only two kilometers, I reach another “puesto”, a simple hut of an arriero. There are quite some people there and they start waving from the other side of the river as soon as they see me.
El Chofo, the arriero living here during summer, approaches on his horse and aks if I want to stay for a coffee. I join the group for coffee, followed by a cold drink and an “asado” (barbecue). It’s quite a big group there, they all came up here by horse for the weekend, daddy’s with their sons and friends. Though I only understand only half of what they are saying due to a lot of “modismo” (slang), it’s a lot of fun. I learn new vocabulary and even get to ride one of the horses. At 1pm I finally wave goodbye.
No major river crossings today but a couple of locations where the trail is washed away. Not only a problem for walkers but also for the cows. I see one cow on one side of a landslide calling “a friend” on the other side. Apparently, she wasn’t sure if it’s save to cross. She’s blocking my way and I make a first attempt to walk around it that I have to abort - too dangerous to just hold onto a few plants - until I find a better option further uphill.
At 8.30 pm, I call it a day. I am super tired but happy. If only I hadn’t “met” these itchy plants causing some rashes on my thighs and keeping me from falling asleep!
Rio Guaiquivilo
15 January 2024 | 20°C
It feels like I’m in a western movie:
While sipping on my coffee, my eyes wander over the vast dry land. Suddenly, in the distance, I see two cowboys on horses and a couple of dogs entering the scenery. They move slowly towards the river and just ride through while the dogs swim and paddle against the current. Damn, have I just missed my water taxi?
“Hondo” is a new word I learned during the last couple of days. It was the standard answer to my question of the water level of Rio Guaiquivilo: high/deep. An arriero (Chilean cowboy) in Carizales suggested I could try to ask some caballeros (horsemen) to take me over. But these two have been too far away.
Continuing my walk along the river, I pass by several puestos where arrieros live but they all seem to be out for a ride doing their work. No dogs, no one home. At least, I could still come back in case I don’t manage alone.
Around noon I take my chance. My first attempt fails: only two meters in and the water is already up to my waist plus the current is stronger than expected. Patience, I tell myself.
My next try is roughly 500m upstream. Looks like some kind of sand/stone bank under water that reaches half into the river. Easy and only knee deep. Once I step off of it, the current gets stronger and water is up to my thighs. I push against it and slowly step forward using stones under water as a support.
“Don’t panic, just focus and be patient”, I tell myself. Then after 4-5 steps it gets shallower again. “I made it!” This was just half of the “fun” though because now I am on some kind of island between two arms of the river. Point of no return. Surprisingly, the other crossing is easier.
Relieved I let myself fall into the sand on the other side. Could I make it all the way to the lagoon today with that dopamine push now?
First views of Rio Guaiquivilo
Laguna Dial
16 January 2024 | 24°C
Trails on the Greater Patagonian are mainly routes for animals. If there wasn’t animal breeding in the mountains, there wouldn’t be any trails at all. There’s “footprints” from horses, cows and goats.
I wonder how they manage to pass the sketchy, steep parts. But they always seem to find a way. Is it easier on 4 feet? Today, I saw footprints from a boot for the first time.
It’s a lovely morning when I reach Laguna Dial.
No one there, crystal clear waters, serene; just a frog that croaks and a pair of birds that start warning everyone once I arrive. About halfway around the lake, I see horses from afar, then a structure of an old shed appears and finally 2-3 people. Nobody seems to notice me, not even the dogs. Everybody is busy with something.
“Hola, que tal?” I say . “Oh, where are you coming from?” “From behind that mountain”, “Sit down and have a rest.” I happily except a break in the shade which is hard to find today. Turns out it’s three Argentinan friends spending a couple of days here at the lagoon. They just arrived by horse. First thing to do: prepare some mate! Where is “la bombilla”?
It’s almost two hours later when I continue my walk. My pack seems heavy. Is it the beer I got offered or the fact that I did not have a proper lunch today? I listen to some podcast to distract me but it doesn’t help. Eventually, I sit down by a nice creek behind a bush and snack from my food bag.
And it works! I feel energized again and walk to the end of the valley. But ooops where’s the exit? Wasn’t aware of that ascent at the end of the day. But the temperature is just right at 7pm, so let’s go. Some caballeros just coming down mention that it could be windy at the plain on the other side and recommend to pitch my tent behind one of the giant rocks. The ascent is fairly quick.
Last challenge of the day: find a spot that is both flat and not covered with cow poop! At 25km I finally stop my walking engine. Enough for today.
San Fabián
8 January 2024 | 29°C
“But where did you sleep?” “In a tent somewhere up there.” The 3 guys that give me a ride into San Fabian start laughing. They are about to head back home from a short day trip going fishing further up the river. “We already get sore feet when walking an hour to our fishing spot.”
They stop on the way at a tiny shop that looks more like a shed to buy coke, cheese and a big loaf of freshly baked bread called “tortilla al rescoldo”, a dough that is baked inside the hot ashes of a fire. They share everything with me and I feel like I’m heaven after 6 days of walking.
They drop me off at Cabañas Nativas in San Fabián where a mini cabin is my home for a day of chill, eat, walk around the small village and find out what’s next. There even is a swimming pool!
