Hi all,
I'm posting this entry pretty much to make sure that my blog doesn't get removed due to inactivity. I'm not sure if that even happens, but I'm not taking any chances.
Hope all is well,
Andrius.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Fishing and Glacier Perito Moreno
Hello Friends!
Day 10 (Day 1 Puerto Natales)
Day 10 (Day 1 Puerto Natales)
I'm sitting at a table with two older Israelis who are eating something that smells delicious. I would chat with them, but they are speaking Hebrew and have given no indication that they know English. So far the highlights of my day have been talking to Kelsey (it's been a while) and the milk and cookies I'm eating right now. Mmmm. I'm still trying to decide what to do with myself and the 4 days I have to kill. I'd like to fish but it's turning out to be bothersome because I don't have waders and nobody will rent me any. I'm also considering heading up to El Calafate in Argentina for a day or two, but that seems a waste because I went to all the trouble of bringing the fishing gear down here. Augh! What I really want is to fish, but I'd also like to get to Argentina one last time. I'll try and figure it out by tonight. I'm going to town to figure out my situation, and I'll finish this entry tonight. Lord only knows where I'll be!
Well, here I am. I guess I should explain where "here" is because "here" is actually more like "nowhere". I'm alone, in my tent, by a river. The river, called Rio Hollemburg, runs 3.5 km between Lake Balmaceda and the ocean and is located about 30 km outside of Puerto Natales. I'm camping about 1.5 km from the road, or halfway up the river. I figure it's pretty much just me and a bunch of cows. Truth be told I'm a little scared. I'm absolutely and totally alone. The only people who know where I am are some guy in a flyshop and the taxi driver who brought me here. In addition, being alone in the woods is a bit spooky. It was getting dark when I was cooking so I brought my pot and cup inside the tent with me. For some reason the tent provides a little bubble of comfort--something familiar, I guess. I still have the problem of things that go "bump" in the night, and I wish I haad my ipod to forget about the wind and other noises from outside. Ugh...I'm stuffed. I made a pretty good stew/soup, but it's super gooey and salty and I made enough for two. Unfortunately I'm alone so I feel ready to explode. I usually finish everything I make, but if I take one more bite I'll retch. I'll deal with the leftovers in the morning when the world feels a bit more friendly.
So. This evening really was beautiful. This river is a flyfishermans dream--3.5 km of deserted water with coho salmon, trout, and numerous other sportfish including sea-run trout. It would also be a good bird sanctuary. Even my novice eye has spotted about 30 different species just this evening, and there are thousands of them! If I had a shotgun I'd be eating rabbit and goose stew, and I would be considerably less worried about intruders. Hell, if I had a long stick I could probably swat one out of the air. To fish I walked up to the lake. The terrain levels out considerably there, and it's possible to see the mountains across the ocean and the lake stretching away in the opposite direction. Although I didn't catch any fish (not even a bite!), the sunset over the mountains was picturesque. Add the wildlife and the stream and it was a beautiful moment indeed. Walking back to the campsite, on the other hand, was rough. I was tired, hungry, frustrated from a lack of fish, a little frightened, and quite lonely. I would really love to have someone to share this experience with--neither camping nor fishing is as much fun alone, really. I guess my attitude might change if I catch something tomorrow, but it's just not the same alone.
Sorry this entry is so long, but I really have nothing else to do and this is keeping my mind off the possiblilty of a 2 ton heifer stumbling over my tent in the night and squishing my intestines out my belly button. Anyway, I really am looking forward to getting home. I think knowing that soon I'll be with the people I know and love is making this much more difficult. I'm ready to go back to my old stomping grounds and just be comfortable for a while. That said, I feel like I've matured a lot here in Chile. I can tell from the way I think, talk, and interact with people that being here has changed me, hopefully for the better. I guess change is probably an inevitable consequence of living abroad, but it's strange all the same. Gnight!
Day 11 ( Day 2 fishing)
Jumpin' junipers what a day! Where to start? Of course I didn't rise and shine with my alarm at 6 am and it was more like 9:30 when I rolled out of my sleeping bag. I ate some cold but delicious granola and went to fish. It was a bust. I fished at least 2 hours and trided every single bloody fly, streamer and nymph in my box. I fished surface and I fished bottom, with every plausible combination. After trying everything, I still had nothing. Well, almost nothing--I did catch one 8 incher. I was mad. I came back to camp and decided that if I wasn't going to catch and fish, at least I would eat well. To that end I sauteed garlic with spices and browned some ham in them. I mixed all that with mashed potatoes and it was delicious.
After lunch I was so deperate that I put a piece of ham on a hook, and bobber fished for 20 minutes. Even bait didn't work in this godforsaken stream! Somewhere I found new resolve and tied on the old 2 nymph rig. This I fished diligently for about 40 minutes or so then decided to try a brown wooly bugger. I also put on a 3x tippet instead of 4x (stronger line, for you non-fisherpeople) because it matched my leader size more closely ( I was hitting the taper). Right away I caught a nice 15 inch brown. I put it back and made another cast in the same hole. Whaddya know, I got another fish! Right away it felt really heavy, like I couldn't move it at all. Usually if you pull hard the fish will move, but this felt more like a snag than a fish. For a few seconds I thought it actually was a snag, but right as the thought entered my mind the fish made it's first run. Based on the heavy pull and deep diving, I had thought it might be a salmon, but when it ran it flashed it's colors and I knew it was a brown trout, and a big hog brown at that. Minutes later it jumped clear out of the water and I almost had a "hernism" when I saw it in it's entirety. Forty minutes later after 8 attempted nettings I fell panting on the bank about 100 yards downstream with a 8-10 pound brown trout in my net. I was ecstatic! It had taken almost 45 minutes all told, but my 5/6 lightweight rod had finally exhausted the big fish and I had netted it. I snapped several photos with the self timer and returned the fish to the water.
I took a break after that because my hand and arm were cramping something fierce and I was too adrenaline buzzed to be of any use. The feeling of accomplishment was incredible. I had been persistent, found a way that worked on my own, caught, netted, and taken photos of a very, very, big fish. Truth be told, though, I had a lot of help. First and foremost are mom and dad who went to great lenghts to send me flies. Also I have to thank my father for teaching me to fish and Lucas (a friend and expert flyfisherman) for furthering my knowledge.
I fished all evening and caught numerous other big fish, all of which were a blast and fought like mad. All in all it was a fulfulling day.
Day 12 (Day 3 fishing)
Today I fished dawn to dusk. I fell in the stream once and filled my waders with water, caught a bunch of fish, and caught a ride home with two other fishermen--the second people I've seen here. It was good they came because the taxi driver didn't come back and I would have been hard pressed to find a ride to town. Also I was out of food.
Day 13 (Sun 10 dec 2006)
Today started at 8:30 am when I caught a bus to El Calafate, Argentina. It's a six hour bus trip and about half is dirt road--definetly not what I was expecting. There is also nothing to see but barren shrubland with the occasional sheep. The ride was made more interesting by talking with Julia, a French girl my age sitting next to me. We talked in Spanish, thank God. It've spoken way too much English lately. She's here for a year and also left a boyfriend at home. He's from somewhere in the Netherlands because she was trying to learn some crazy language so she could talk with his family (on top of the five she already knows). In Chile she works in Pucon regulating the different agencies that guide trips up the volcano we climbed, Villarica. Apparently there are lots of avalanches and accidents that get hushed up so as not to stifle tourism. Interesting.
The bus pulled into El Calafate at about 1:30 and my first impression was "hellhole". There was a dust storm and the wind was blowing hard enough that it was rocking parked vans so that two wheels almost came off the ground. I caught a shuttle to the hostal ($3/night) booked a tour of the glacier (leaves in 30 minutes) got a bus home (leaves at 8 tomorrow) ran to 3 ATM's to get money to pay for the tour, got food and barely arrived back in time for the tour. Turns out Julie and two other American friends I met on the bus were also taking the tour, so I had company.
The glacier was spectacular. It's called Perito Moreno because Moreno is the last name of some explorer and Perito is a title of honor bestowed upon excellent mountaineers. We first took a boat ride to see the southern face of the glacier. It was really impressive from the water because the glacier towers some 70 meters above the lake. A couple chunks calved off the glacier while we watched. It looked as though they were falling in slow motion, but in reality the whole thing is many times bigger than it appears. (The boat couldn't go any closer than 300 meters because if a large enough piece falls off it could capsize.) After about 3 hours of glacier watching I returned to Calafate and fixed dinner, then retired to my sleeping bag for the night.
Day 14 (Dec 11, 2006)
Well my Patagonian adventure is winding down--I fly back to Santiago tomorrow at 5:00 pm. Today looks to be a lot of traveling as well, because I'm hoping to reach Punta Arenas tonight and spend one more evening at the Hostal Independencia with Eduardo. I'm sure he'd be glad to hear about my travels.
Although I wouldn't trade this trip for the world, I was really excited to board the bus headed to Puerto Natales this morning. For the first time I'm heading home, and in 4 short days I'll be back in the good old US of A. It will be very sad to leave Chile behind and even more difficult to leave all the good friends I've made along the way. It's been a wonderful experience and I've made memories that will last a lifetime. Thank you all for allowing me to share them through this blog and I hope you all learned something along the way; I know I did. See you soon!
Chao, y por la ultima vez, ya me voy. (Bye, and for the last time, I'm out.)
Andrius
Well, here I am. I guess I should explain where "here" is because "here" is actually more like "nowhere". I'm alone, in my tent, by a river. The river, called Rio Hollemburg, runs 3.5 km between Lake Balmaceda and the ocean and is located about 30 km outside of Puerto Natales. I'm camping about 1.5 km from the road, or halfway up the river. I figure it's pretty much just me and a bunch of cows. Truth be told I'm a little scared. I'm absolutely and totally alone. The only people who know where I am are some guy in a flyshop and the taxi driver who brought me here. In addition, being alone in the woods is a bit spooky. It was getting dark when I was cooking so I brought my pot and cup inside the tent with me. For some reason the tent provides a little bubble of comfort--something familiar, I guess. I still have the problem of things that go "bump" in the night, and I wish I haad my ipod to forget about the wind and other noises from outside. Ugh...I'm stuffed. I made a pretty good stew/soup, but it's super gooey and salty and I made enough for two. Unfortunately I'm alone so I feel ready to explode. I usually finish everything I make, but if I take one more bite I'll retch. I'll deal with the leftovers in the morning when the world feels a bit more friendly.
So. This evening really was beautiful. This river is a flyfishermans dream--3.5 km of deserted water with coho salmon, trout, and numerous other sportfish including sea-run trout. It would also be a good bird sanctuary. Even my novice eye has spotted about 30 different species just this evening, and there are thousands of them! If I had a shotgun I'd be eating rabbit and goose stew, and I would be considerably less worried about intruders. Hell, if I had a long stick I could probably swat one out of the air. To fish I walked up to the lake. The terrain levels out considerably there, and it's possible to see the mountains across the ocean and the lake stretching away in the opposite direction. Although I didn't catch any fish (not even a bite!), the sunset over the mountains was picturesque. Add the wildlife and the stream and it was a beautiful moment indeed. Walking back to the campsite, on the other hand, was rough. I was tired, hungry, frustrated from a lack of fish, a little frightened, and quite lonely. I would really love to have someone to share this experience with--neither camping nor fishing is as much fun alone, really. I guess my attitude might change if I catch something tomorrow, but it's just not the same alone.
Sorry this entry is so long, but I really have nothing else to do and this is keeping my mind off the possiblilty of a 2 ton heifer stumbling over my tent in the night and squishing my intestines out my belly button. Anyway, I really am looking forward to getting home. I think knowing that soon I'll be with the people I know and love is making this much more difficult. I'm ready to go back to my old stomping grounds and just be comfortable for a while. That said, I feel like I've matured a lot here in Chile. I can tell from the way I think, talk, and interact with people that being here has changed me, hopefully for the better. I guess change is probably an inevitable consequence of living abroad, but it's strange all the same. Gnight!
Day 11 ( Day 2 fishing)
Jumpin' junipers what a day! Where to start? Of course I didn't rise and shine with my alarm at 6 am and it was more like 9:30 when I rolled out of my sleeping bag. I ate some cold but delicious granola and went to fish. It was a bust. I fished at least 2 hours and trided every single bloody fly, streamer and nymph in my box. I fished surface and I fished bottom, with every plausible combination. After trying everything, I still had nothing. Well, almost nothing--I did catch one 8 incher. I was mad. I came back to camp and decided that if I wasn't going to catch and fish, at least I would eat well. To that end I sauteed garlic with spices and browned some ham in them. I mixed all that with mashed potatoes and it was delicious.
After lunch I was so deperate that I put a piece of ham on a hook, and bobber fished for 20 minutes. Even bait didn't work in this godforsaken stream! Somewhere I found new resolve and tied on the old 2 nymph rig. This I fished diligently for about 40 minutes or so then decided to try a brown wooly bugger. I also put on a 3x tippet instead of 4x (stronger line, for you non-fisherpeople) because it matched my leader size more closely ( I was hitting the taper). Right away I caught a nice 15 inch brown. I put it back and made another cast in the same hole. Whaddya know, I got another fish! Right away it felt really heavy, like I couldn't move it at all. Usually if you pull hard the fish will move, but this felt more like a snag than a fish. For a few seconds I thought it actually was a snag, but right as the thought entered my mind the fish made it's first run. Based on the heavy pull and deep diving, I had thought it might be a salmon, but when it ran it flashed it's colors and I knew it was a brown trout, and a big hog brown at that. Minutes later it jumped clear out of the water and I almost had a "hernism" when I saw it in it's entirety. Forty minutes later after 8 attempted nettings I fell panting on the bank about 100 yards downstream with a 8-10 pound brown trout in my net. I was ecstatic! It had taken almost 45 minutes all told, but my 5/6 lightweight rod had finally exhausted the big fish and I had netted it. I snapped several photos with the self timer and returned the fish to the water.
I took a break after that because my hand and arm were cramping something fierce and I was too adrenaline buzzed to be of any use. The feeling of accomplishment was incredible. I had been persistent, found a way that worked on my own, caught, netted, and taken photos of a very, very, big fish. Truth be told, though, I had a lot of help. First and foremost are mom and dad who went to great lenghts to send me flies. Also I have to thank my father for teaching me to fish and Lucas (a friend and expert flyfisherman) for furthering my knowledge.
I fished all evening and caught numerous other big fish, all of which were a blast and fought like mad. All in all it was a fulfulling day.
Day 12 (Day 3 fishing)
Today I fished dawn to dusk. I fell in the stream once and filled my waders with water, caught a bunch of fish, and caught a ride home with two other fishermen--the second people I've seen here. It was good they came because the taxi driver didn't come back and I would have been hard pressed to find a ride to town. Also I was out of food.
Day 13 (Sun 10 dec 2006)
Today started at 8:30 am when I caught a bus to El Calafate, Argentina. It's a six hour bus trip and about half is dirt road--definetly not what I was expecting. There is also nothing to see but barren shrubland with the occasional sheep. The ride was made more interesting by talking with Julia, a French girl my age sitting next to me. We talked in Spanish, thank God. It've spoken way too much English lately. She's here for a year and also left a boyfriend at home. He's from somewhere in the Netherlands because she was trying to learn some crazy language so she could talk with his family (on top of the five she already knows). In Chile she works in Pucon regulating the different agencies that guide trips up the volcano we climbed, Villarica. Apparently there are lots of avalanches and accidents that get hushed up so as not to stifle tourism. Interesting.
The bus pulled into El Calafate at about 1:30 and my first impression was "hellhole". There was a dust storm and the wind was blowing hard enough that it was rocking parked vans so that two wheels almost came off the ground. I caught a shuttle to the hostal ($3/night) booked a tour of the glacier (leaves in 30 minutes) got a bus home (leaves at 8 tomorrow) ran to 3 ATM's to get money to pay for the tour, got food and barely arrived back in time for the tour. Turns out Julie and two other American friends I met on the bus were also taking the tour, so I had company.
The glacier was spectacular. It's called Perito Moreno because Moreno is the last name of some explorer and Perito is a title of honor bestowed upon excellent mountaineers. We first took a boat ride to see the southern face of the glacier. It was really impressive from the water because the glacier towers some 70 meters above the lake. A couple chunks calved off the glacier while we watched. It looked as though they were falling in slow motion, but in reality the whole thing is many times bigger than it appears. (The boat couldn't go any closer than 300 meters because if a large enough piece falls off it could capsize.) After about 3 hours of glacier watching I returned to Calafate and fixed dinner, then retired to my sleeping bag for the night.
Day 14 (Dec 11, 2006)
Well my Patagonian adventure is winding down--I fly back to Santiago tomorrow at 5:00 pm. Today looks to be a lot of traveling as well, because I'm hoping to reach Punta Arenas tonight and spend one more evening at the Hostal Independencia with Eduardo. I'm sure he'd be glad to hear about my travels.
Although I wouldn't trade this trip for the world, I was really excited to board the bus headed to Puerto Natales this morning. For the first time I'm heading home, and in 4 short days I'll be back in the good old US of A. It will be very sad to leave Chile behind and even more difficult to leave all the good friends I've made along the way. It's been a wonderful experience and I've made memories that will last a lifetime. Thank you all for allowing me to share them through this blog and I hope you all learned something along the way; I know I did. See you soon!
Chao, y por la ultima vez, ya me voy. (Bye, and for the last time, I'm out.)Andrius
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