the colors of earth

a day of rain makes sitting in an internet cafe updating thoughts and experiences the only logical thing to do. thinking of everything that has these two eyes have seen and that these two feet have walked across. the feelings i have now will fade with time somehow. how can i hold onto these feelings. can i jar them up somehow and release the scents, the views, the feel, the smells, peoples faces, the moments anytime i want. can i keep them for when i need them most will i ever be able to recall the silence on a crowded subway in medellin, the taste of exotic fruits in bogota, the look of a cowboy as he corrales his cattle in argentina, the smell of fresh grapes in mendoza, the jolting yet rejuvenating feeling of swiming in glacial relic lakes, the music of chilean folklore. how can i bring myself back to these moments.

i spent a couple days in mendoza, argentina drinking gallons of great wine and eating kilo after kilo of succulent steak. i thought i arrived with enough time to hike up to base camp of Mt. Aconcagua. The tallest mountain in the western hemisphere at almost 23,000 ft. I knew i wasnt prepared to make the summit, which has been a dream of mine since childhood, but at least making it to base camp would be a thrill. Unfortunately, the climbing season ended days before i arrived. I fortunately met jose, a 48yr old chilean who has been living in sydney for 15 years who just made the sumit a week before. listening to his story and the struggle of climbing in an oxygen depleted atmosphere that is inhospitable for any creature or plant alike, against -30 below temperatures means that i will have to come back to argentina to stand ontop of this earthly creation at some point in my life.

regardless of weather or not i was able to make it to base camp, i had to at least see the mammoth mountain with my own eyes. There was a short 2 day hike, where, if the weather was just right, you could see the summit behind its more modest peaks. by the time i made it to the camp (not base camp, just a camp along the hike) it was beginning to get dark and the ridge was no longer visible. so of course im going to wake up before sunrise and watch the sun reveal the snow covered peak. slowly, and carefully, as if it was a slow dance with the land, the suns rays slowly began to reveal peak after peak, casting long shadows on the wayward side of each mountain, watching the shadows move across the range till the sun was actually visible making each shadow disappear, untill finally the top of aconcagua towered over every other feature.

imagine seeing multiple colors expose on a cliffside of a mountain. colors that you only thought could have otherwise only been seen in a rainbow. these colors were brilliantly displayed in the barren hillsides of hamuhuaca in northern argentina. cerro de siete colores, the mountain of seven colors, is exactly that. except i think i counted more then 7. rolling hillsides and gentle sloping mountains of different minerals being exposed at different times show how even mountains can have life of color to it.

May life be too thrilling to want to read this, or may it perk up a particularly dreary day with a little bit of distraction from the far reaches of the Southern Hemisphere.

thumbing my way

lets see, where did i leave off. oh yeah, im a professional hitchiker. or so i thought. i took a bus from bunoes aires to bahia blanca, where i figured it would be an easy straight shot across the pampas (flat plains) of argentina to patagonia. i got off the bus terminal and walked 4 miles to the outskirts of town where i posted up next to a petrol station soliciting for a ride west. i presented myself in my cleanest attire and sporting a clean shave and groomed curly fro. this to assure any weary picker upper that im just a good ole american hitchin south america. my first ride was a group of 3 argentians on holiday from school headed north to cordoba. alejandra, carlitos, isabelle. thankfully they spoke a little english so the conversation wasnt to stagnant. it was a 10hour ride that consisted of mate after mate. we would stop at people houses along the way, just random people, and ask them to boil some water for us. wed leave 15 minutes later with a thermas full of hot water, and steak sandwiches everytime. at the junction of routa 151, they turned to head north, so i had to get off and find my next ride west. i was left staring at herds of cattle and absolutely nothing else. i figured it couldnt be that far to the next town. so ill just walk along routa 22 to the next petro station and surely ill find a trucker willing to help a lost kid. there was no next town. at least not in the direction that i was walking. pearl jams "thumbing my way" got heavy rotation for the next 3 hours. finally, just as the sun was setting, a stroke of luck came and a trucker pulled over and took me to my final destination. marco was a 39 year old delieverer of refrigaration systems for restaurants to store meat. mucho surpriso. finally, 29 hours later, i made it beriloche. the first city of many that i will visit in patagonia.

I was immediately awe struck by the natural beauty of lake nauhi huapi and hit the ground running. i went on a 2 day mountain bike ride through roads that wind and curve around majestically clear lakes. whenever i got thirsty, id simply stop, walk to one of the lakes, and knees down and drink. the best water ive ever had. now this is what i call mountians and lakes.

one afternoon, i was consulting my lonely planet on what to do next. a german girl named zena asked what i had planned next and asked if i wanted to go with her and her 5 year old son on a day trip to hike through some caves. "sure why not, and maybe on the way back you can drop me off at the bus terminal so i dont have to walk there or catch a cab" i said. complete miscommunication. she had a rental car and therefore had limited miles she could put on her car. we got to the caves which was about a 2 hr drive from beriloche, and did a short hike and when i asked her to take me back 2hrs to the bus stop, she looked at me dumbfounded like i was crazy or something. this was not the plan. the plan was to come back to beriloche and head south. instead i was literally stuck with a woman and her kickin and screaming 5 year old for the next two days will we made it to the next town. it turned out to be great though. we picked up one hitchhiker and drove down deserted dirt road routa sieta lagos (7 lakes road) and came across the most stunning lakes ive ever seen surrounded by towering snow peaked mountains.

we seperated in pucon chile. when i think of pucon chile, i think of me being kindly asked to leave a bar. i went on a volcanoe hike with 4 people from isreal. after the hike got canceled due to weather, we decided to go to a bar and get some drinks. now i tried my best to leave politics and worldy affairs aside when traveling. theres just so many other things to talk about. one of them asked what my nationality is. so we got on the topic of iraq and saddam. and they strongly disagreed with everything i said as i strongly disagreed with everything they were saying. it turned into a 15 minute standing, nearly shouting match until a waitress came up to me and kindly asked me to leave. id be glad to. check please.