 |
| Perito Moreno Glacier, Argentina |
 |
| Jenna in the plaza, Coroico. |
|
When Jenna and I decided to take the road less traveled, by tourists anyway, down to the Amazon basin from La Paz via public bus we were both excited at the prospect of saving a few bucks to experience one of the most infamously shitty stretches of road that is traveled, anywhere. Before the "remodel" in 2007, an average of 200 people a year died on the infamous "Death Road." Some cyclists, some pedestrians, and handfuls of truckers and bus patrons careening over the edges were commonplace. Recently the average has dropped down, especially for cyclists, due to a stretch of road designated solely for non motor traffic. We had broken the trip by stopping in Coroico, about three hours down from La Paz, before continuing on another 16 hours (this trip has been know to accede 48 hours due to weather and road conditions) to Rurrenabaque. After leaving Coroico we had a not-so-quick stop over in Yolosita; the junction between the road to La Paz and the road heading downhill into the Amazon basin. Bolivia runs on its own time and bus arrivals and departures are more like educated guesses than certainties, so when the bus coming from La Paz was 2 hours late it gave us some time in Yolosita to observe some locals.
 |
| Mr. Tall Boy tossing his belt |
The local drunk and a pack of feral dogs had an obvious difference of opinion. Barefoot in a home made white vest and little blue shorts that would make Magnum PI jealous, he would stumble out into the street clutching a Tall-Boy and a pack of about 6 haggard street dogs would descend on him barking furiously, hackles raised and teeth gnashed. He would antagonize them by drunkenly swinging sticks or tossing errant rocks their way; this battle was clearly a daily norm for the residents of this tiny junction town as they took little notice. He even managed to lose his belt, although I´m not sure why he was wearing a belt with tiny blue running shorts, taking it off and lassoing it towards the pack leader.
A little girl in box shot me with her finger pistol, and a naughty ten year old running a local shop tried to snag my camera, Jenna caught him and yelled, "NOOOO!!" They both got a mug shot.
 |
| Bang! | | | |
 |
| After he was caught in the act | |
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
At dusk the bus arrived, ending the entertainment in Yolosita and starting a long night down from the mountains.
As the sun sank lower in the western horizon a bright, nearly full moon began to illuminate the dark forested mountains and deep valleys. Cliffs dropped thousands of feet to one side while the ancient bus clung to mudslide prone hills rocking like a ship on rough seas as it sputtered and crept down the rut scarred road, pitching frightfully close to the silver lit crevasses. Gradually as the dark mountains became shrouded with mist, the dry cold air of the altiplano gave way to the thick, life-filled humid air of the lower jungle. Staring out the window for hours as we slowly lurched down and down I realized that there are very few places on earth where one can spend 16 hours traveling solely downhill on a bus, descending 13,000 feet from barren snow clad rocky peaks into a verdant green world seething with life.Bolivia is so rad. As the sun rose, and my corner of earth greeted dawn, I was thankful for another sleepless night spent deep in thought watching the world go by.
 |
| I do love motorcylces! |
Our first full day in Rurrenabaque we decided to rent some motorcycles and go for a cruise. Jenna learned to drive a scooter in Indonesia, sharing the road with all manner of animals, vehicles and debris, crashing twice, so why not learn to drive a motorcycle in Bolivia on a dirt road cratered with giant holes, deep sandy pits, and again, all manner of animals and debris. We arranged our bikes from a couple of local kids fresh into puberty, who were more than helpful teaching Jenna how to operate a clutch on a motorcycle in exchange for a days wage; obviously unconcerned that she had never driven one before. I was less than thrilled by her sly grin that said, "I´m going to drive this fucking thing if it´s the last thing I do, so back off!" But she is as brave and stubborn as I am so off we went, helmetless and grinning from ear to ear. Needless to say, she got the hang of it and we made the amazing trip out to a lake, a couple hours outside of town, without incident.
 |
| God loves girls on motorcycles and/or with surfboards! |
 |
| Dust covered after our day long bike journey |
 |
| The pampas |
The pampas are a wetland of sorts, similar to the everglades, but far more seasonally influenced. Arriving at the end of the wet season, most of the area is a maze of waterways, swamps, and flooded grasslands home to a myriad of animals: turtles, pink dolphins, black caiman, alligators, anaconda, cobras, monkeys, capybara, tapir, and a dizzying variety of tropical birds and a SHITLOAD (official biological classification) of mosquitoes. During the day we cruised the waterways looking for wildlife in a long boat, and also at night with flashlights spotting caiman and alligators. We also spent a few hours wading through flooded grasslands and swamps looking for the worlds largest snake, the anaconda. Jenna and I broke off from the group and wondered solo and silent through the domain of this awesome animal, searching the still murky water, ankle to thigh deep, fighting off relentless shitloads of mosquitoes. However, we had no luck finding an anaconda.
 |
| Sunrise in the pampas |
|
 |
| Sunset in the pampas |
 |
| More pampas |
The "Eco lodge" we stayed at was part house of horrors, if you´re a monkey, part buffet, if you´re an alligator or caiman, and part, "this is a fucking eco-lodge?" if you´re a human. All parts considered, you get what you pay for and we didn't pay much and had a great time.
 |
| The "Eco Lodge" (insert creepy music) |
 |
| We had a great spot! |
Pedro...
Leftover food scraps were kindly donated to the creatures of the forest, which unfolded in the following story: Jenna, two other guests and I wandered off on one of the many above water/ground walkways to find a small pile of leftover fruit, rice, etc being guarded statuesquely by a medium sized black caiman--about 6-7 feet in length. In the surrounding trees and in increasing numbers on the ground, were dozens and dozens of cute little yellow monkeys with bearded faces. Pedro (yes he had a name) waited, not flinching a muscle...closer and braver the monkeys became...SNAP! Old Pedro grabbed an unlucky monkey by the waist. The trees went ape-shit! All the monkeys started screaming, not to mention the poor little guy caught in Pedro´s maw. Calmly, without haste or worry, Pedro slunk back into the jungle, all the while the monkey clutched in desperation at passing trees and bushes. Yikes, it´s a lot different in person than it is on TV; sitting on your couch saying something intelligent like, "well that´s mother nature, and all animals need to eat to survive." Horse shit! Try watching a cute little yellow fur ball being dragged to his death by a giant fucking lizard to the sound off his screaming buddies. Bummer!
 |
| Sneaky old Pedro |
 |
| Aforementioned cute yellow fur ball |
 |
| Scene of the slaughter, post capture; how quickly they forget |
And Pepe too...
Pepe, is the not so medium sized alligator that also calls the "Eco-lodge" home. At just under 12 feet long he is a formidable beast that lurks under the scantily built walkways and hides in the nearby swamp until he is ...called. I was unaware until my recent stay in the pampas that an alligator could learn a name and respond to verbal requests. PEPE! PEPE!...PEPE! Oh there he is, moving silently from his hidden lair in the bushes, across the water towards the kitchen. At least they let me feed him chicken scraps. I also liked to take my morning coffee with Pepe. Nothing gets the blood going like mud black coffee with a prehistoric killing machine between you and a deck of rotten 2 x 6´s.
 |
| Having coffee with Pepe |
 |
| Pepe rolling around in chicken parts |
 |
| Pepe, waiting patiently under the kitchen |
We also did some piranha fishing from our boat, had lots of bites (hahaha) and caught 4 catfish, 2 a piece.
 |
| Pretty big deal |
 |
| Making fishing look good! |
 |
| Our boat |
 |
| Capybaras |
 |
| Monkey |
 |
| Looking for snakes! |
One of the highlights of the pampas for us was getting to swim with pink river dolphins. They weren't lured with bait or called to dinner either. The dolphins house, as our guide called it in Spanish, was a lagoon like any one of hundreds in the pampas, but home to only dolphins, no reptiles. Like their cousins in the seas, these dolphins are fiercely territorial against predators, highly intelligent, cunning and coordinated. In short, the caiman and alligator know better than to cruise the lagoons that are full of dolphins because they would get a beat down from flipper and that´s not the kind of thing you want to explain to your lizard friends. Typically the dolphins will let you know that they know you´re there by circling, making close passes and occasionally giving your legs a nudge or two. They are, after all, not threatened by us, but very curious. I was very lucky indeed with my experience.
Keep in mind that you can´t see your own knees in the rust-colored, murky water, and it´s a bit unnerving knowing that, while the nasties (gators, cobras, anaconda oh my) keep their distance, they are still there. The girl next to me got a couple nudges on her feet, then I was greeted full on by a beautiful pink river dolphin. It surfaced next to me and then slowly put its head in my arms and let me put my other hand under its belly; all the while looking at me with bright intelligent eyes. It then gave me a dolphin hug, rubbing against my torso and arms, and then promptly disappeared back under the still surface. Jenna, a lover of animals, was insanely jealous and I was elated to have such a close encounter. Looking into the eyes of a wild, highly intelligent animal is an experience that is hard to explain and it will never be forgotten.
 |
| Swimming in a dolphin lagoon |
...And the last 2 months (mostly pictures) before the pampas...
 |
| Looking sharp, and a bit like a sweaty hippy |
 |
| Cheeks full of coca leaves |
 |
| Happy hitch hikers! |
 |
| Burried houses in Chaiten, Chile, after a recent eruption |
 |
| Our first hike, around Volcano Orsono |
 |
| One of many fjords/lakes we crossed heading south on the Carretera Austral, Chile |
The mountains, lakes, fjords, rivers, glaciers and forests of Patagonia are unmatched in their grandeur and magnificence. I could spend hours stumbling on this keyboard trying to recount the feeling of being dwarfed by nature in this isolated part of the earth. Mountain, sky, and water have no end or beginning here, they meld together in a tapestry of awesome--seemingly unperturbed by an increasingly overcrowded world to the north. Having spent some time in Antarctica, I imagine that this country looks like the icy continent before it drifted on into frozen isolation. It feels like a living seam between the world of green and life, and the world of ice just south of Patagonia. As autumn brought death to leaves, and colors became increasingly vibrant with each passing day, so did the winds bringing bite-filled air--a constant reminder of the proximity to the frozen monolith across the Drake. Patagonia is inspiring. It embodies the power of nature that I both love and appreciate. Dozens of active volcanoes dot the landscape, while endless glaciers carve mountains into valleys and tear fjords into coastlines; the timeless battle between ice and earth over the eons is evident and thriving here at the southern extreme of South America.
 |
| Another beautiful crossing, Southern Chile |
 |
| Approaching Cerro Castillo, Chile on an amazing, tough, multi-day hike |
 |
| Cerro Castillo |
 |
| Enjoying some late afternoon sunshine before crossing one of the passes the following day |
 |
| Crossing a snowy pass, Cerro Castillo |
 |
| Alpine lake near the summit of our hike, Cerro Castillo |
 |
| At the summit looking out across the valley, Cerro Castillo |
 |
| Another summit and a look at the valley and river below that we followed out, Cerro Castillo |
 |
| Our multi-day hike from Chile to Argentina |
 |
| At the border between Chile and Argentina |
 |
| Mt. Fitz Roy, Argentina |
 |
| Hiking in Los Glaciars National Park |
|
We experienced the highest winds of either of our lives in Los Glaciars National Park, Argentina. The legendary Patagonia winds were rolling people around like weeds. We were tumbled several times while being pelted with rocks and debris.
 |
| Los Glaciars, Argentina |
 |
| Lake full of ice bergs, Los Glaciars, Argentina |
 |
| End of the line, we made it 1,247KM hitching the Carretera Austral! |
For those that don´t know her well, Jenna loves all animals big and small, cute and ugly, with a passion more than anyone I have ever know--well, almost. My little brother was also a contender for that title. We´ve carried left over bread, scraps of fat and other food all over South America to feed strays. We even put up a tiny kitten in our tent for a night that she saved from a big nasty mutt in Futaleufu, Chile. She rescued some dogs from being picked on, fed birds, cows, bunnies, and was the only person to release her catch in the pampas (she said the catfish was squeaking). So, here are a small sample of Jenna´s Friends:
 |
| Notice the paw on her left leg also |
 |
| Had to feed the pigeons |
 |
| He was a fixture on Jenna´s shoulder in Coroico |
 |
| The luckiest catfish in the Amazon |
 |
| Lucky day for this old white dog |
 |
| Found some hungry cows, hitching, Chile |
 |
| ¿Bunnies? ¿Next to a plam tree in Bolivia? |
Some random happy camping pictures; because there are few things more human and freeing than camping!
 |
| Always happy at meal times! |
 |
| Nice spot at the base of Osorno |
 |
| Backyards too! |
 |
| Wine, food, sunshine |
 |
| BUSTED! |
 |
| Maps are always rad |
 |
| A gypsy I found |
 |
| Amazing lake |
After we left Patagonia we bombed through Argentina, stopping in Mendoza to wine taste and eat steak on our way to Bolivia. We spent some time in Tupiza, Uyuni, and Sucre, then La Paz, Pampas, etc.
 |
| Traffic helpers in Sucre, Bolivia |
 |
| She served the best Llama stew! Somewhere in Bolivia |
 |
| Ah! It´s busy! |
 |
| The world´s largest salt flat, Salaar de Uyuni, Bolivia |
 |
| Market in La Paz |
 |
| Soccer game in La Paz, wearing the home team visor. |
Bolivian buses are legendary around South America. It´s where busses go to die and also...be decorated with some amazingly tasteful art. A few of my favorites, and they can speak for themselves:
And finally, last and certainly not least...ninja and jumping pictures:
 |
| Crouching tiger, hidden glacier, look at that balance! |
 |
| It´s a bird! It´s a plane! |
 |
| Fierce dinosaur my ass! |
 |
| POW! |
|
 |
| I should have stuck with karate... or ballet |
