Hau Hum II
The next morning, we walked the 2k back to the restaurant, where we had clearly established the night before that theywould be open by 8am. But they werent. Finally, after circling the building and peering in every window, a lady came out and explained they would be open for lunch from 1 to 4. Dishartened, and hungry, and trailing the string of horses, we headed back to the campsite. We decided to explore up the road a bit, on the off chance that there would be a store or something, but 15 minutes later we were at the border into Chile, and no food in sight. So it was the peanuts and water.
Then we loaded one pack for a day hike, and set off for a highly touted waterfall. After walking a couple of hours, and seeing some incredible raptor much like a goshawk in the forest, we arrived at the falls, which were spectacular. Three men about our age from Mendoza arrived while we were at the viewpoint, and we had a long talk about the election. They asked and we told them we had voted for Obama. They said the same thing as a number of others had told us: they were rooting for Obama, and every North American that they had ever met since the end of the primary was for Obama, and they were mystified as to Bush got elected, and incredulous that Bush had been reelected. They were interested in the concept of the absentee ballot. Voting is compulsory in Argentina, and you can only be excused if you are >500 km from home, and then you haveto go to the local police station on election day and have them sign your identity card to prove you werent home.
Anyway, after viewing the falls we headed back to the campground. Careful study of the map had lead me to conclude that there was a atajo, a shortcut, via an abandoned trail at the viewpoint. Despite the sign that said essentially "no passage, danger of death" CT reluctantly agreed to give a try for just 50 yards. It became immediately apparent that indeed it was the old much shorter way into the falls through the woods, and absolutely no danger of death, except maybe death by starvation if we didnt get back to the restaurant in time or they were still not open.
But the restaurant WAS open, and we settled in for a late afternoon lunch. I ordered what seemed to be a hunters stew made with wild boar, and CT opted for something called venison arrojo. While we were scarfing down the bread basket and waiting for the food to arrive she got out our Spànish dictionary and discovered that arrojo meant "throw up". But fortunately when the food arrived it was not deer vomit, but instead venison rolled up around a morel stuffing. Both dishes were delicious, and made even more so due to the level of our hunger.
Back to the campground for nice hot showers, a long siesta, reading for a few hours, then back to the restaurant for dinner. CT wasn`t hungry, and just ordered bread pudding, but I had a wonderful fresh trout. By the time dinner was over, about 10:30 (we ate early by Argentine standards), it was of course pitch dark when we headed back the 2k to the campground. I had the headlamp and halfway there, we saw a pair of glowing eyes ahead of us. I thought a dog, but it darted across the road and CT glimpsed a big bushy tail. It came back and approached us cautiously, and we realized it was a zorro! Then we looked behind us, and there were 2 more circling us. They were beautiful, but it was unnerving. CT stamped her foot, and they backed up but just a little. I stamped really hard, and gave my best "get out of the way, cows" yell, and they ran off into the brush. Soon we were passing a ranger station with a bunch of dogs, and we never saw the foxes again.
The next morning, the weather was looking a little forboding as we packed up. As we worked, the boy of the family came out and put an enormous wooden yoke on the two large steers that shared our pasture, hooked some leather loops from the oak yoke over their horns, and with taps from a cane pole coupled with verbal commands lead them off into the woods where the family was logging. After absorbing all that, we decided not to take the 4k walk to the boat dock, figuring that the chances of the boat not showing up were high and if it didnt we would have to walk 6k to the restaurant to call a remise. We really wanted to be back at Puma hostel to follow the election results that night, so we just went straight to the restaurant to call the car. En route, we had to cross the Hau Hum river as we had done many times already on a rickity one lane bridge. But today they were repairing the deck, and at the moment about 20 feet of it was missing. The workers showed us that this was no problem, and all we had to do was walk across this gap on the underlying steel griders. Since they were only about 5 inches wide and we were 30 feet above the swiftly flowing river, this was daunting. But they showed us if we used the sidemost girder, we could us part of the bridge as a hand rail. CT swallowed hard, and walked straight across while I took pictures. We recovered by reading for an hour while we waited for the remise.
Then we loaded one pack for a day hike, and set off for a highly touted waterfall. After walking a couple of hours, and seeing some incredible raptor much like a goshawk in the forest, we arrived at the falls, which were spectacular. Three men about our age from Mendoza arrived while we were at the viewpoint, and we had a long talk about the election. They asked and we told them we had voted for Obama. They said the same thing as a number of others had told us: they were rooting for Obama, and every North American that they had ever met since the end of the primary was for Obama, and they were mystified as to Bush got elected, and incredulous that Bush had been reelected. They were interested in the concept of the absentee ballot. Voting is compulsory in Argentina, and you can only be excused if you are >500 km from home, and then you haveto go to the local police station on election day and have them sign your identity card to prove you werent home.
Anyway, after viewing the falls we headed back to the campground. Careful study of the map had lead me to conclude that there was a atajo, a shortcut, via an abandoned trail at the viewpoint. Despite the sign that said essentially "no passage, danger of death" CT reluctantly agreed to give a try for just 50 yards. It became immediately apparent that indeed it was the old much shorter way into the falls through the woods, and absolutely no danger of death, except maybe death by starvation if we didnt get back to the restaurant in time or they were still not open.
But the restaurant WAS open, and we settled in for a late afternoon lunch. I ordered what seemed to be a hunters stew made with wild boar, and CT opted for something called venison arrojo. While we were scarfing down the bread basket and waiting for the food to arrive she got out our Spànish dictionary and discovered that arrojo meant "throw up". But fortunately when the food arrived it was not deer vomit, but instead venison rolled up around a morel stuffing. Both dishes were delicious, and made even more so due to the level of our hunger.
Back to the campground for nice hot showers, a long siesta, reading for a few hours, then back to the restaurant for dinner. CT wasn`t hungry, and just ordered bread pudding, but I had a wonderful fresh trout. By the time dinner was over, about 10:30 (we ate early by Argentine standards), it was of course pitch dark when we headed back the 2k to the campground. I had the headlamp and halfway there, we saw a pair of glowing eyes ahead of us. I thought a dog, but it darted across the road and CT glimpsed a big bushy tail. It came back and approached us cautiously, and we realized it was a zorro! Then we looked behind us, and there were 2 more circling us. They were beautiful, but it was unnerving. CT stamped her foot, and they backed up but just a little. I stamped really hard, and gave my best "get out of the way, cows" yell, and they ran off into the brush. Soon we were passing a ranger station with a bunch of dogs, and we never saw the foxes again.
The next morning, the weather was looking a little forboding as we packed up. As we worked, the boy of the family came out and put an enormous wooden yoke on the two large steers that shared our pasture, hooked some leather loops from the oak yoke over their horns, and with taps from a cane pole coupled with verbal commands lead them off into the woods where the family was logging. After absorbing all that, we decided not to take the 4k walk to the boat dock, figuring that the chances of the boat not showing up were high and if it didnt we would have to walk 6k to the restaurant to call a remise. We really wanted to be back at Puma hostel to follow the election results that night, so we just went straight to the restaurant to call the car. En route, we had to cross the Hau Hum river as we had done many times already on a rickity one lane bridge. But today they were repairing the deck, and at the moment about 20 feet of it was missing. The workers showed us that this was no problem, and all we had to do was walk across this gap on the underlying steel griders. Since they were only about 5 inches wide and we were 30 feet above the swiftly flowing river, this was daunting. But they showed us if we used the sidemost girder, we could us part of the bridge as a hand rail. CT swallowed hard, and walked straight across while I took pictures. We recovered by reading for an hour while we waited for the remise.
posted by Axolotl at 9:51 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home